leaned on the table and spoke in a confidential tone. "And I reckon
Porter'll be doing a hornpipe when he finds it out."

"Who took it?" asked Harvey.

"Spencer, Myers, and I. The books haven't been closed, you know."

Harvey blew out a thin cloud of smoke, and looked at it meditatively.

"Nine thousand shares," continued Jim, "If there's anything he can do now,
he's welcome to try."

"Do you think he will try?"

"Oh, yes, he'll come at us with something or other. But he can't do a
thing."

There was a long silence, then Harvey said,--

"You didn't pay cash for the stock?"

"Ten per cent," Jim replied.

Harvey fingered his cigar. Every new move of Jim's bewildered him. Jim's
imperturbability, and his eagerness for a fight where some men would be
discouraged, were qualities that Harvey was slow in acquiring. His
admiration for Jim amounted almost to reverence. Perhaps had he realized
the bitter fighting that was yet to come, if he could have foreseen the
part that he was to play with zeal and judgment, he would have been even
more bewildered, but Harvey was plucky enough; it needed only the right