them. All the fools are jack-a-dandies, and one has only to find where the strings hang to make them dance as he will. I have Fletcher fast. I heard a fellow talking about taming a man, Rarey-fashion, by holding out a pole to him with a bunch of flowers. Pooh! The best thing is a bit of paper with a court seal at the corner, stuck on the end of a constable's staff."
Mr. Fletcher entered presently,—the office where he was employed being only a few doors off. He was a slender young man, with strikingly regular features and delicate complexion; his mobile mouth was covered by a fringy moustache, and his small keen eyes were restless to a painful degree. The sudden summons appeared to have flustered him; for his eyes danced more than usual, giving him the startled and perplexed look of a hunted animal at bay. He was speedily reassured by Sandford's bland voice and encouraging smile.
"A new opening, Fletcher,—a 'pocket,' as the Californians call it. Is there any chance to operate? Just look about. I have the funds ready. Something safe, and fat, too."
"Plenty of chances to those who look for them," replied Fletcher. "The men who are hard up are the best customers; they will stand a good slice off; and if a man is sharp, he can deal as safely with them as with the A 1s, who turn up their noses at seven per cent."
"You understand, I see."
"I think I ought. Papyrus, only yesterday, was asking if anything could be done for him,—about fifteen hundred; offers Sandbag's note with only thirty days to run. The note was of no use to him, because the banks require two names, and his own isn't worth a straw. But Sandbag is good."
"We'll take it. About a hundred off?"
Fletcher nodded.
"I've plenty more to invest, Fletcher. Let me know if you see any paper worth buying."
Fletcher nodded again, but looked expectant, much like a dog (not wishing to degrade him by the comparison) waiting with longing eyes while his master eats his morning mutton-chop.
"Fletcher," said Sandford, "I'll make this an object to you. I don't mind giving you five dollars, as soon as we have Papyrus's indorsement on the note. And, speaking of the indorsement, let him sign his name, and then bring me the note. I wish to put on the name of the person to whose order it is to be payable."
"Then it is on the account"———
"Of whom it may concern," broke in Sandford. "Don't stand with your mouth open. That is my affair."
"But if you pay me only five dollars"———
"That is so much clear gain to you. Do you suppose that we—my backer and I—shall run the risk for nothing? Good morning! Attend to your own affairs at Danforth's properly. Don't burn your fingers with any new experiments. There's a crash coming and stocks will fall. Good morning!"
The Secretary looked relieved when Fletcher closed the door, and speedily dispatched the necessary letters and orders for the Company. Then leaving the affairs of the Vortex in the hands of his clerk, he strolled out for his usual lunch. Wherever he walked, he was met with smiles and greetings of respect. He turned into an alley, entered an eating-house, and took his place at a table; he ordered and ate his lunch, and then left, with a nod towards the counter. The landlord, who began on credit, expected no pay from the man who procured him money accommodations. No waiter had ever seen a sixpence from his purse. How should a man be expected to pay, who spent his substance and his time so freely in charity?
CHAPTER III.
CONTAINING SOME CONFESSIONS NOT INTENDED FOR THE PUBLIC EAR.
Miss Marcia Sandford, after breakfast, was sitting in her chamber with her
