far more respect in his tones than he had used to the boys; whom
indeed, he looked upon as talented chaps, but still boys--which to
men of his caliber is an infallible sign that anything such youthful
persons may attempt is extremely likely to go wrong. How erroneous
such an opinion is, those of our readers who have followed the
adventures of the Chester boys know.

Mr. Luther Barr deserves a new paragraph. Long, lean and hollow
cheeked, the term "gangling" fits him better than any other. Mr.
Luther Barr's black suit hung on him as baggily as the garments of a
cornfield scarecrow and Mr. Luther Barr's sharp features were not
improved by a small growth of gray hair; of the kind known as a
"goatee" that sprouted from his lower rip. For the rest of the boys
noticed that Mr. Barr was gifted with a singularly gimlet-like pair
of steely blue eyes that seemed to bore through you.

"As sharp a man as ever drove up the price of ivory," added Mr.
Beasley as he introduced the boys to this singular figure, "he can
scent an ivory bargain--"

"From here to Africa," struck in Mr. Barr in a sharp nasal tone that
grated unpleasantly, "and you and I are going to be Kings of Wall
Street if these boys put this deal through for us," he added with
what was meant to be an amiable smile, but which, as a matter of
fact, distorted his face till it looked uncommonly like an old
Japanese war mask. Indeed the boys, who had seen the collection in
the Metropolitan Museum, could not help smiling to themselves, as
the same thought struck each of them.

"Well, Beasley," exclaimed Barr suddenly, "I'm as sharp set as a