the talk was of ancient
weapons until the time for action arrived; and a smooth-faced gentleman
sitting at a near-by table and marked down by Ford--though not by Ford's
companion--listened for some word of enlightenment on the railroad
situation, and was cruelly disappointed.

"Why wouldn't you talk?" asked Adair, when they were driving down-town
in the young millionaire's auto. "Or rather, why did you persist in
keeping me to the old swords?"

Ford laughed.

"For one reason, I enjoy the old swords--as a relaxation. For another,
Mr. Jeffers Hawley, who was once one of the Transcontinental lawyers in
Denver, was sitting just behind you, with eager ears. You didn't know
that. Hold on a minute; tell your man to stop at the Chemical Bank. I
want you to introduce me to the cashier."

"Now, what the deuce are you starting a New York bank account for?"
queried Adair, as they came out of the bank together and climbed into
the tonneau of the waiting touring car. "Couldn't you draw on the
treasurer? What's the use of your being the assistant to the president,
I'd like to know?"

"Wait," was the answer; and the questioner waited, perforce.

The board was already in session when the two young men were admitted to
the private room in the rear of the Broad Street offices, and Ford was
welcomed as a man who has recklessly steered the ship upon the rocks.
There were even some open recriminations, notably on the part of the
president; but Ford sat quietly under them, making no defense, and
folding and refolding a slip of paper in his fingers as he listened.

When they gave him leave to speak, he still made no attempt to explain.
Instead, he rose, walked to the other end of the table, and tossed the
bit of folded paper across to Mackie, the broker.

"I inherited a little money, and I have made and saved enough more to
make it an even twenty thousand dollars," he said. "I don't know of any
more promising investment just now than Pacific Southwestern at
twenty-nine and a half. Will you be good enough to buy for my account,
Mr. Mackie?"

The effect was electrical. President Colbrith sat up very straight in
his chair; two or three of the anxious ones opened on Ford with a rapid
fire of questions; and Brewster, the copper magnate, sat back and
chuckled softly in his beard.

"No, gentlemen; there is no change in the situation, so far as I know.
Of course, you are not so foolish as to let the newspaper talk of the
tie-up at the Ch