committee appointed to gather further information.

"Nothing more can be done to-day, Frank," Walter Leigh informed him,
quietly. "The majority want the privilege of examining the books. There
is some uncertainty about this entanglement with the city treasurer
which you say exists. They feel that you'd better announce a temporary
suspension, anyhow; and if they want to let you resume later they can do
so."

"I'm sorry for that, gentlemen," replied Cowperwood, the least bit
depressed. "I would rather do anything than suspend for one hour, if I
could help it, for I know just what it means. You will find assets
here far exceeding the liabilities if you will take the stocks at their
normal market value; but that won't help any if I close my doors. The
public won't believe in me. I ought to keep open."

"Sorry, Frank, old boy," observed Leigh, pressing his hand
affectionately. "If it were left to me personally, you could have all
the time you want. There's a crowd of old fogies out there that won't
listen to reason. They're panic-struck. I guess they're pretty hard
hit themselves. You can scarcely blame them. You'll come out all right,
though I wish you didn't have to shut up shop. We can't do anything with
them, however. Why, damn it, man, I don't see how you can fail, really.
In ten days these stocks will be all right."

Judge Kitchen commiserated with him also; but what good did that do? He
was being compelled to suspend. An expert accountant would have to
come in and go over his books. Butler might spread the news of this
city-treasury connection. Stener might complain of this last city-loan
transaction. A half-dozen of his helpful friends stayed with him until
four o'clock in the morning; but he had to suspend just the same. And
when he did that, he knew he was seriously crippled if not ultimately
defeated in his race for wealth and fame.

When he was really and finally quite alone in his private bedroom
he stared at himself in the mirror. His face was pale and tired, he
thought, but strong and effective. "Pshaw!" he said to himself, "I'm
not whipped. I'm still young. I'll get out of this in some way yet.
Certainly I will. I'll find some way out."

And so, cogitating heavily, wearily, he began to undress. Finally he
sank upon his bed, and in a little while, strange as it may seem, with
all the tangle of trouble around him, slept. He could do that--sleep
and gurgle most peacefully, the while his father paced the f