ity, he had confronted two bulky policemen.
With a muffled shriek he had slammed the door in their astonished
faces and darted back into the house, his heart in his throat and
hammering madly. How could he know that they were only selling tickets
to a Policemen's Ball? Then he had crept to the window and, concealed
in the folds of the curtain, had watched them go down the street,
laughing and turning often to glance back at the house that held such
a queer-mannered inmate.

Rousing himself from the gloomy revery into which he had lapsed,
Ketchim switched on the light and took up again the report of Reed
and Harris. Sullenly he turned its pages, while the sallow skin on his
low forehead wrinkled, and his bird-like face drew into ugly
contortions.

"Fools!" he muttered. "Didn't they see that clause in their contract,
providing an additional fifty thousand in stock for them in case they
made a favorable report?"

A light tap at the door, and a low cough, preceded the noiseless
entrance of the meek-souled Rawlins.

"A--a--this is the list which Reverend Jurges sent us--names and
addresses of his congregation. I've mailed them all descriptive
matter; and I wrote Mr. Jurges that the price of his stock would be
five dollars, but that we couldn't sell to his congregation for less
than seven. That's right, isn't it? I told him Molino stock would go
up to par next month. That's what you said, I believe."

"How much stock did Jurges say he'd take?" demanded Ketchim, without
looking up.

"Why, he said he could only get together two thousand dollars at
present, but that later he would have some endowment insurance falling
due--"

"How soon?"

"About a year, I think he said."

"Well, he ought to be able to borrow on that. Did you write him so?"

"No--but I can."

"Do so--but only hint at it. And tell him to send his check at once
for the stock he has agreed to take."

"Why, he sent that some days ago. I thought you--"

"He did?" cried Ketchim, his interest now fully aroused. "Well, where
is it?"

"Er--your brother James received the letter, and I believe he put the
check in his pocket."

Ketchim gave vent to a snort of rage. "You tell James," he cried,
pounding the desk with his fist, "that as president and treasurer of
the Molino Company I demand that check!"

"Yes, sir--and--"

"Well?"

"Mr. Cass 'phoned before you got down this morning. He said the bank
refused to extend the time on your note."

Ketchi