As he took down the receiver, Barney Creighton said, "Miss Raymond, if all the kings in Europe call me up in a body, don't connect them with me unless they tell you what they want."
Then he turned his attention to the 'phone.
"Hello! Is this Mr. Duncan?… Yes, this is Creighton speaking … I say, Alf, buy up all the Bleecker's Infused stock possible, only don't mention my name. I think Roger Patterson will let you have about forty per cent of the capital stock … Yes, buy it in the open market if you like. It won't do any harm to start a boom."
******
Late in the afternoon Roger Patterson discovered that he had overstepped the extreme edge of hazard at last. He had gone short of the market on Bleecker's Infused stock by four thousand shares.
All night long Roger Patterson walked up and down the floor of his office, a prey to conflicting emotions. If Barney Creighton held him to the letter of his contract in this deal, he was practically ruined. Ponder as he would, he could find no solution to the problem. Every line of thought that raced through his tired brain led to one conclusion. There was nothing to do but to throw himself on Barney Creighton's mercy. He knew that Barney had a name for being kind-hearted. Dear old Barney Creighton, he was loved by every broker downtown. A perfect shower of invitations poured into his office in every morning's mail. And each letter was absolutely sincere. Others might be invited to dinner because the hostess thought
