the floor of this room."

"I want to get to business," said Burlingame sullenly, as he took from
his pocket a paper.

Crozier nodded. "I can imagine your haste," he remarked. "You need all
the fees you can get to pay Belle Bingley's bills."

Burlingame did not wince. He made no reply to the challenge that he was
the chief supporter of a certain wanton thereabouts.

"The time for your option to take ten thousand dollars' worth of shares
in the syndicate is up," he said; "and I am instructed to inform you that
Messrs. Bradley, Willingden, Baxter, & Simmons propose to take over your
unpaid shares and to complete the transaction without you."

"Who informed Messrs. Bradley, Willingden, Baxter, & Simmons that I am
not prepared to pay for my shares?" asked Crozier sharply.

"The time is up," surlily replied Burlingame. "It is assumed you can't
take up your shares, and that you don't want to do so. The time us up,"
he added emphatically, and he tapped the paper spread before him on the
table.

Crozier's eyes half closed in an access of stubbornness and hatred.
"You are not to assume anything whatever," he declared. "You are to
accommodate yourself to actual facts. The time is not up. It is not up
till midnight, and any action taken before then on any other assumption
will give grounds for damages."