, he would know our errand here at once."

"I don't cac'late he'd 'member me," said Jess, "though I'd recklect them
gray stun'sls o' hisn out o' a million."

And Winn, contrasting the old man's present raiment with what he usually
wore, concluded he was right.

But that evening, when Page and Nickerson were ushered into the room
where Jess was held in (to him) durance vile, there was a scene.

"I'm powerful glad to meet ye, gentlemen," Jess asserted, shaking the
hand of each in a way that made them wince, "I'd a sorter cac'lated
brokers had horns 'n' claws the way ye're spoken on, but ye look purty
harmless. I suppose ye air brokers," looking from one to the other, "an'
which sort air ye, bulls or bears?"

"Either one or the other, as occasion serves," answered Page, laughing
heartily. "We get together and toss or claw one another, according to
the market, and when the fracas is over, count our cash and go out and
drink to each other's good luck."

And this, be it said, fairly expresses the financial warfare daily waged
"on 'change."

"I've read 'bout yer doin's," continued Jess, "an' I allus cac'lated ye
were all a purty slick crowd o' deceivers, an' best ter steer clear on.
I'm a sort o' an old barnacle livin' on an island, 'n' when this 'ere
Weston woke me up one day, I made a fairly good dicker with him, an'
'long come this young man, 'n' I'll own up I kinder took ter him, bein's
I hadn't chick nor child 'n' nothin' fer company but an old fiddle, 'n'
just ter help him out, bought a leetle stock. I got a few o' the rest to
buy some, 'greein' I'd see they wasn't to lose by it. I fetched it
'long, 'n' I tell ye, Mr. Hardy, yer message has stirred up quite a
fuss. I'll bet yer landlady, the Widder Moore, hain't slept a wink
sense, 'n' if Roby hadn't been obligated to Uncle Sam, he'd 'a' started
fer the mainland that night."

"You are just in time, Mr. Hutton," observed Page, interested in this
honest old man at once, "and unless all signs fail, I'll sell your stock
to-morrow at ten or twenty times its cost. How would you like to carry
back five thousand dollars for yourself and double that to distribute
among your friends?"

"They'd all hev fits," answered Jess, "an' 'ud quit fishin' an' start to
quarryin' right away. But I don't cac'late ye will, Mr. Page, an' we'll
all on us be satisfied to git our hats back. Hope ye may, though; but
thar's no use in countin' chickens till they're hatched."

And Jess Hutto