ven't failed yet.
You are not in any danger of any legal proceedings; and if you are, I'll
help defend you. I can't give you the check back because I haven't it to
give; and if I had, I wouldn't. That would be allowing a fool to make a
fool of me. I'm sorry, very, but I can't do anything for you."

"Oh, Mr. Cowperwood!" Tears were in Stires's eyes. "He'll discharge me!
He'll forfeit my sureties. I'll be turned out into the street. I have
only a little property of my own--outside of my salary!"

He wrung his hands, and Cowperwood shook his head sadly.

"This isn't as bad as you think, Albert. He won't do what he says. He
can't. It's unfair and illegal. You can bring suit and recover your
salary. I'll help you in that as much as I'm able. But I can't give you
back this sixty-thousand-dollar check, because I haven't it to give.
I couldn't if I wanted to. It isn't here any more. I've paid for the
securities I bought with it. The securities are not here. They're in the
sinking-fund, or will be."

He paused, wishing he had not mentioned that fact. It was a slip of the
tongue, one of the few he ever made, due to the peculiar pressure of the
situation. Stires pleaded longer. It was no use, Cowperwood told him.
Finally he went away, crestfallen, fearsome, broken. There were tears
of suffering in his eyes. Cowperwood was very sorry. And then his father
was announced.

The elder Cowperwood brought a haggard face. He and Frank had had a long
conversation the evening before, lasting until early morning, but it had
not been productive of much save uncertainty.

"Hello, father!" exclaimed Cowperwood, cheerfully, noting his father's
gloom. He was satisfied that there was scarcely a coal of hope to be
raked out of these ashes of despair, but there was no use admitting it.

"Well?" said his father, lifting his sad eyes in a peculiar way.

"Well, it looks like stormy weather, doesn't it? I've decided to call a
meeting of my creditors, father, and ask for time. There isn't anything
else to do. I can't realize enough on anything to make it worth while
talking about. I thought Stener might change his mind, but he's worse
rather than better. His head bookkeeper just went out of here."

"What did he want?" asked Henry Cowperwood.

"He wanted me to give him back a check for sixty thousand that he paid
me for some city loan I bought yesterday morning." Frank did not explain
to his father, however, that he had hypothecated the certifica