of
Filmore walked right into its first real bucket-shop and made itself
at home. It was a positive pleasure to lose money there, and it was a
joy to have young Wix take it. He did it so jovially.

Punctually every evening Wix handed to Gilman his half of the profits
on the trades closed that day, and each week the profits became
larger. Gilman was thrown into a constant state of delight; Wix bought
him a horse and buggy. Gilman saw fortune just ahead of him; Wix saw
possible disaster. It pained him to note that Filmore was optimistic.
There were many more bulls than bears, which was not the ideal
condition. There should have been a bear to offset every bull, in
which case the La Salle Grain and Stock Brokerage Company would have
run no risk whatever.

Of course, the inevitable happened. All the wheat and stock gamblers
of Filmore got in on a strong bull market and stayed in. When the
market finally turned back and the "longs" were frightened out, the
crash came, and every dollar was lost of the original three thousand.
Wix, having anticipated the possibility of such an event, was
disappointed but "game." Gilman, having more at stake and being at
best a cheerful winner only, was frantic.

"What shall I do? What shall I do?" he moaned, over and over.

"Dig up more money," Wix cheerfully advised him.

"I can't!" cried Gilman. "I've gone now even deeper than I dared." He
was silent for a long time. Great beads of perspiration came on his
brow. His hair was wet. "Wix," he finally burst out, "I've got to tell
you something; something that no living creature knows but me."

"No, you don't!" Wix sharply stopped him. "If you have any secrets,
keep them to yourself. I am stone deaf."

Gilman's eyes widened with a look of positive terror. For the first
time in his life he had met that glare in the eyes of a supposed
friend which denied friendship, sentiment or emotion of any sort;
which told only of cold self-interest. Two or three times he essayed
to speak, but he could not. He only stood with his sides heaving, like
a spent dog.

"There is no use whining about this thing," Wix went on sharply.
"We've got to raise money, and that's all there is to it. How about
your profits that I've been handing you? I've spent mine."

There was no answer.

"You said something about owing four hundred dollars before we began,"
Wix went on. "I suppose you repaid that--that loan."

Gilman dumbly nodded.

"I've paid you over a thous