and tossed and rent asunder,
stood dismayed, so great had been his power. What was about to happen?
Jadwin himself, the great man, in the Pit! Had his enemies been too
premature in their hope of his defeat? For a second they hesitated, then
moved by a common impulse, feeling the push of the wonderful new harvest
behind them, gathered themselves together for the final assault, and
again offered the wheat for sale--offered it by thousands upon thousands
of bushels.

Blind and insensate, Jadwin strove against the torrent of the wheat.
Under the stress and violence of the hour, something snapped in his
brain; but he stood erect there in the middle of the Pit, iron to the
end, proclaiming over the din of his enemies, like a bugle sounding to
the charge of a forlorn hope.

"Give a dollar for July--give a dollar for July!"

Then little by little the tumult of the Pit subsided. There were sudden
lapses in the shouting, and again the clamour would break out.

All at once the Pit, the entire floor of the Board of Trade, was struck
dumb. In the midst of the profound silence the secretary announced. "All
trades with Gretry & Co. must be closed at once!"

The words were greeted with a wild yell of exultation. Beaten--beaten at
last, the Great Bull! Smashed! The great corner smashed! Jadwin busted!
Cheer followed cheer, hats went into the air. Men danced and leaped in a
frenzy of delight.

Young Landry Court, who had stood by Jadwin in the Pit, led his defeated
captain out. Jadwin was in a daze--he saw nothing, heard nothing, but
submitted to Landry's guidance.

From the Pit came the sound of dying cheers.

"They can cheer now all they want. _They didn't do it,"_ said a man at
the door. "It was the wheat itself that beat him; no combination of men
could have done it."

_IV.--A Fresh Start_

The evening had closed in wet and misty, and when Laura Jadwin came down
to the dismantled library a heavy rain was falling.

"There, dear," Laura said, "now sit down on the packing-box there. You
had better put your hat on. It is full of draughts now that the
furniture and curtains are out. You've had a pretty bad siege of it, you
know, and this is only the first week you've been up."

"I've had too good a nurse," he answered, stroking her hand, "not to be
as fit as a fiddle by now. You must be tired yourself, Laura. Why, for
whole days there--and nights, too, they tell me--you never left the
room."

Laura shook her head, an