on, for within a month after Mr. Gunterson's friendly
suggestion, the Birmingham Bessemer Steel Corporation was in the hands
of a receiver, who, after some hesitation, issued a statement to the
effect that the bondholders might eventually realize fifteen cents on
every dollar they had paid in.

On the second day of March an unusual thing happened. Mr. Cuyler
entered the elevator and mounted to the top floor of the Guardian
building, crossing the floor toward Mr. Wintermuth's office.

"Hello! What are you doing up here?" Smith inquired, knowing the stars
must be strangely out of their courses to attract Mr. Cuyler to this
unaccustomed altitude. A true local department man is always
uncomfortable, never at home, above the grade floor. "Has the
Sub-Treasury or the Aquarium made a total loss, or what's the matter?"
he cheerfully proceeded.

"No," said Cuyler, sourly. And without further answer he passed on
into the President's room.

"Good-afternoon, Mr. Cuyler," said the President, amiably, but the
local secretary with a glum face stopped him.

"Well, we've lost O'Brien," he said.

"What's that?" demanded the other. "Lost O'Brien? What do you mean?
Not O'Brien of One Hundred and Twenty-fifth Street?"

"That's the man. The best branch manager we ever had--the man we kept
when the Exchange made us close all our branch offices but one. Well,
he's thrown us."

"Thrown us! O'Brien? Why, he's been with us for fifteen years! Tell
me about this at once, sir."

"There's nothing to tell, or nothing much," replied the local
secretary, bitterly. "The business he's been giving us has been
dropping off,--we haven't got a new risk out of him in a month and
we've been losing a lot of our renewals,--and yesterday Charlie saw his
placer going into the Salamander office with a bundle of binders."

"The Salamander? O'Connor!"

"Yes, sir, O'Connor. So to-day I went around to the restaurant where
he eats when he comes down town. He was there."

"O'Brien, you mean? Well, what did he say?"

"He said," replied Cuyler, slowly, "that he had no complaint to make of
the way we'd treated him, but that the Salamander was offering him
facilities which we didn't offer him, and he felt obliged to do
something for them."

"He means they're paying him excess brokerage or something of that
sort," said Mr. Wintermuth, acidly.

"Yes, I suppose so, but of course that's a thing you can't say unless
you're in a position to prov