. Then he resumes his pacings. Another
minute goes rapidly by. He rushes to the telephone again.

"Hallo! Is that you, Jones?... What are Margarine Prefs. down to now?...
Ah! Then buy. Keep on buying.... Yes."

He hangs up the receiver. By this master-stroke he has made a quarter of
a million. It may seem to you or me an easy way of doing it. Ah, but
what, we must ask ourselves, of the great brain that conceived the idea,
the foresight which told the exact moment when to put it into action,
the cool courage which seized the moment--what of the grasp of affairs,
the knowledge of men? Ah! Can we grudge it him that he earns a quarter
of a million more quickly than we do?

Yet Mr. Felix Mountenay is not happy. When we have brought off a coup
for a hundred thousand even, we smile gaily. Mr. Mountenay did not
smile. Fiercely he bit another inch off his cigar, and muttered to
himself.

The words were "Leo Abraham! Wait!"

. . . . .

This is positively the last row of dots. Let us take advantage of them
to jump forward another month. It was October 1st, 19--. (If that was a
Sunday, then it was October 2nd. Anyhow, it was October.)

Mr. Felix Mountenay was sleeping in his office. For once that iron brain
relaxed. He had made a little over three million in the last month, and
the strain was too much for him. But a knock at the door restored him
instantly to his own cool self.

"I beg your pardon, sir," said his secretary, "but somebody is selling
zinc."

The word "zinc" touched a chord in Mr. Mountenay's brain which had lain
dormant for years. Zinc! Why did zinc remind him of Leo Abraham?

"Fetch the _Encyclopedia Britannica_, quick!" he cried.

The secretary, a man of herculean build, returned with some of it. With
the luck which proverbially attends rich men, Mr. Mountenay picked up
the "Z" volume at once. As he read the Zinc article it all came back to
him. Leo Abraham had owned an empty zinc-mine! Was his enemy in his
clutches at last?

"Buy!" he said briefly.

In a fortnight the secretary had returned.

"Well," said Mr. Mountenay, "have you bought all the zinc there is?"

"Yes, sir," said the secretary. "And a lot that there isn't," he added.

"Good!" He paused a moment. "When Mr. Leo Abraham calls," he added
grimly, "show him up at once."

It was a month later that a haggard man climbed the stairs of No. --
Throgneedle Street, and was shown into Mr. Mountenay's room.

"W