w offhand now the location of some ten or fifteen offices, and
was received in them as the recognized representative of Carter, Rand
& Seagraves. In some places he was even known by name and addressed
as Mr. Pendleton--which filled him with considerable pride.

Don went direct to his house from the office, dressed, and went to the
club.

"If any one rings me up, get the name," he ordered the doorman.

He avoided the crowd before the bar, and went upstairs to the library.
He had brought his circulars with him, and now went over them once
again in order to refresh his memory on some of the details. He was as
anxious about getting this right as if Miss Winthrop were a
prospective customer. Perhaps she might be. Women invested money, and
if he was persuasive enough he might sell her a thousand-dollar bond.
If he did not sell one to her, he might sell a few to Barton. Barton
was always investing money--investing the Pendleton money, in fact. He
might suggest Barton to Farnsworth, and drop around and see him
to-morrow. Then Barton might suggest some one else. Before night he
might in this way sell a couple of dozen of these bonds. He grew
excited at the idea. He felt a new instinct stirring within him.

Don had never sold anything in his life except a few old clothes to
second-hand clothes men in Cambridge. Strictly speaking, that was more
in the nature of a gift than a sale: for a hundred dollars' worth of
clothes, he received perhaps ten dollars, which he felt obliged to
spend on his friends at the first opportunity.

Don had always been a buyer--a talent that required neither
preparation nor development. Money had always passed from him to some
one else. This was pleasant enough, but undramatic. There was no
clash; it called for no effort on his part. To reverse all this and
watch the money pass in the other direction--from some one else to
him--impressed him as a pleasant variation.

At seven o'clock Don replaced his circulars in his pocket and went
downstairs. Wadsworth passed him, and for a moment Don was tempted to
stop him and try out his knowledge of bonds on him. The club, however,
was hardly the place for that. But if ever he met Wadsworth on the
street he would see what he could do. Wadsworth had never been more
than an acquaintance of his, but now he saw in him a prospective
customer.

Don stepped into a taxi at the door and gave the driver the address
supplied by Miss Winthrop. The cab after a little cam