er, but it is a place of
business, which is created and fed by the incessant "ticker." How men
existed or did any business at all before the advent of the "ticker" is a
wonder.

But the Chamber, the creator of low-pressure and high-pressure, the
inspirer of the "ticker," is the great generator of business. Here I
found Henderson in the morning hour, and he came up to me on the call of
a messenger. He approached, nonchalant and smiling as usual. "Do you see
that man," he said, as we stood a moment looking down, "sitting there on
a side bench--big body, small head, hair grayish, long beard
parted--apparently taking no interest in anything?

"That's Flink, who made the corner in O. B.--one of the longest-headed
operators in the Chamber. He is about the only man who dare try a hold
with Jay Hawker. And for some reason or another, though they have
apparent tussles, Hawker rather favors him. Five years ago he could just
raise money enough to get into the Chamber. Now he is reckoned at
anywhere from five to ten millions. I was at his home the other night.
Everybody was there. I had a queer feeling, in all the magnificence, that
the sheriff might be in there in ten days. Yet he may own a good slice of
the island in ten years. His wife, whom I complimented, and who thanked
me for coming, said she had invited none but the reshershy."

"He looks like a rascal," I ventured to remark.

"Oh, that is not a word used in the Chamber. He is called a 'daisy.' I
was put into his pew in church the other Sunday, and the preacher
described him and his methods so exactly that I didn't dare look at him.
When we came out he whispered, 'That was rather hard on Slack; he must
have felt it.' These men rather like that sort of preaching."

"I don't come here often," Henderson resumed, as we walked away. "The
market is flat today. There promised to be a little flurry in L. and P.,
and I looked in for a customer."

We walked to his down-town club to lunch. Everybody, I noticed, seemed to
know Henderson, and his presence was hailed with a cordial smile, a
good-humored nod, or a hearty grasp of the hand. I never knew a more
prepossessing man; his bonhomie was infectious. Though his demeanor was
perfectly quiet and modest, he carried the air of good-fellowship. He was
entirely frank, cordial, and had that sort of sincerity which one can
afford to have who does not take life too seriously. Tall--at least six
feet-with a well-shaped head set on squar