oked up.

"Here's the man we were talking about, Scannel, you remember. Remember
Dave Scannel, who was your partner in seventy-eight? Look at him. This
is him now. He's a rich man now. Remember Scannel?"

Hargus, his bleared old eyes blinking and watering, looked across the
desk at the other.

"Oh, what's the game?" exclaimed Scannel. "I ain't here on exhibition,
I guess. I--"

But he was interrupted by a sharp, quick gasp that all at once issued
from Hargus's trembling lips. The old man said no word, but he leaned
far forward in his chair, his eyes fixed upon Scannel, his breath
coming short, his fingers dancing against his chin.

"Yes, that's him, Hargus," said Jadwin. "You and he had a big deal on
your hands a long time ago," he continued, turning suddenly upon
Scannel, a pulse in his temple beginning to beat. "A big deal, and you
sold him out."

"It's a lie!" cried the other.

Jadwin beat his fist upon the arm of his chair. His voice was almost a
shout as he answered:

"_You--sold--him--out._ I know you. I know the kind of bug you are. You
ruined him to save your own dirty hide, and all his life since poor old
Hargus has been living off the charity of the boys down here, pinched
and hungry and neglected, and getting on, God knows how; yes, and
supporting his little niece, too, while you, you have been loafing
about your clubs, and sprawling on your steam yachts, and dangling
round after your kept women--on the money you stole from him."

Scannel squared himself in his chair, his little eyes twinkling.

"Look here," he cried, furiously, "I don't take that kind of talk from
the best man that ever wore shoe-leather. Cut it out, understand? Cut
it out."

Jadwin's lower jaw set with a menacing click; aggressive, masterful, he
leaned forward.

"You interrupt me again," he declared, "and you'll go out of that door
a bankrupt. You listen to me and take my orders. That's what you're
here to-day for. If you think you can get your wheat somewheres else,
suppose you try."

Scannel sullenly settled himself in his place. He did not answer.
Hargus, his eye wandering again, looked distressfully from one to the
other. Then Jadwin, after shuffling among the papers of his desk, fixed
a certain memorandum with his glance. All at once, whirling about and
facing the other, he said quickly:

"You are short to our firm two million bushels at a dollar a bushel."

"Nothing of the sort," cried the other. "It's a million an