of the previous few
years reasserted itself, and business in land and ranches and town
property showed early signs of breaking all previous records.

The Langford-Ralston Company were in almost every transaction; but it
was not until the blossoms were again on the trees that someone
suddenly realised a strange fact.

The private-exchange girl in the L.-R. Company switched the call to
Phil's desk.

"Hullo! Brixton talking. That you, Jim?"

"No, Pete! Jim's out. This is Ralston."

"Well,--I guess you'll do. Say!--what's the matter with that outfit of
yours, anyway?"

"Don't know, Peter. Tell me, and I'll try to fix it."

"Oh, no, you won't! But why the devil don't you fellows buy some
real-estate once in a while?"

"What have you got, Pete? Any snaps?"

"Come off the perch, Phil! You know what I'm gettin' at. Are you
fellows trying to create a slump or some such damned thing?"

"No,--certainly not! That would be poor business for a real-estate
agent."

"Well,--why the devil are you the bear in every transaction you put
through? It didn't used to be that way. Every broker in town's been
buying from you fellows all this year."

"Somebody's got to sell, if there's to be any buying. Now,--don't get
rattled, Pete. It is up to you. Sell if you want to. Nobody will stop
you."

Peter Brixton's voice grew more conciliatory.

"What do you fellows know, anyway? You might let me in on it. We've
done lots of business together."

"We don't know a thing, Peter; just surmise. And everyone knows it,
for we haven't hidden anything."

"That there's going to be a tightening up for a while?"

"Yes!"

"That it is coming soon?"

"No!"

"What then?"

"That it has come."

Peter laughed a little hilariously, then his laugh ended with a touch
of nervousness.

"Say!--is that straight goods, Phil?"

"Just our private opinion, Pete!"

"Well,--I think you're about two years out in your guess, but I'm
going to try a little selling just to be in the fashion. Thanks, old
man!"

"You'd better hurry up then, Peter."

Phil had hardly hung up the receiver, when Jim rushed in, his rugged
face full of excitement.

"Read that!" he shouted, thrusting a cablegram under Phil's nose. "By
gad!--but we've been lucky; every client of ours has had a chance to
sell. If he wouldn't do it, he has only himself to blame now."

The message was in code, with the interpretation scrawled underneath
by Jim. It was from Jim's father's fi