n of the earnings
of the company with Wallingford, or with one another, for that matter.
Moreover, new stock-holders might "raise a rumpus" about their methods
of conducting the business, as Wallingford had started to do. Gravely
they called Wallingford in.

"Wallingford," said Mr. Squinch, showing in his very tone his
disrespect for a criminal, "Mr. Turner has acquainted us with the fact
that you are compelled to leave us, and though we already have about
as large a burden as we can conveniently carry, we're willing to allow
you five thousand dollars for your stock."

"For four hundred and ninety-seven shares! Nearly fifty thousand
dollars' worth!" gasped Wallingford, "and worth par!"

"It is a debatable point," said Mr. Squinch, placing his finger-tips
together, and speaking with cold severity, "as to whether that stock
is worth par or not at the present moment. I should say that it is
not, particularly the stock that _you_ hold."

"Even at a sacrifice," insisted Wallingford, "my friend ought to be
able to get fifty dollars a share for me."

"You must remember, Mr. Wallingford," returned the severe voice, "that
you are not so free to negotiate as you seemed to be an hour or so
ago. In a word, you are a fugitive from justice, and I don't know,
myself, but what our duty, anyhow, would be to give you up."

Not one man there but would have done it if it had been to his
advantage.

"You wouldn't do that!" pleaded Wallingford, most piteously indeed.
"Why, gentlemen, the mere fact that I am in life-and-death need of
every cent I can get ought to make you more liberal with me;
particularly in view of the fact that I made this business, that I
built it up, and that all its profits that you are to reap are due to
me. Why, at twenty thousand the stock would be a fine bargain."

This they thoroughly believed--but business is business!

"Utterly impossible," said Mr. Squinch.

The slyly rubbing palms of Mr. Turner, the down-shot lines of Andy
Grout's face, the compressed lips of Tom Fester, all affirmed Mr.
Squinch's decided negative.

"Give me fifteen," pleaded Wallingford. "Twelve--ten."

They would not. To each of these proposals they shook emphatic heads.

"Very well," said Wallingford, and quietly wrote an address on the
envelope containing his certificates. He tossed the envelope on the
postal scales, sealed it, took stamps from his drawer and pasted them
on. "Then, gentlemen, good day."

"Wait a minute," h