clock, languidly closed his eyes, opened them, sighed for the third
time, and then spoke.

"So I am to understand that our--ah--juvenile acquaintance has turned
his business affairs over to you," he said. "I congratulate him, I'm
sure. The marked success which you have attained in the--ah--management
of--ah--other business affairs has inspired him with perfect trust,
doubtless."

"That must be it. The average man has to trust somebody and I gathered
that _some_ trusts of his were beginnin' to slip their moorin's.
However, here's the situation. You got him to buy some stock on margin.
The stock, instead of goin' up, as you prophesied, went down. You
suggested his puttin' up more margin. He'd used all his own money, so he
used some belonging to some one else. Now he's in trouble, bad trouble.
What are you goin' to do about it?"

"I? My dear man, what should I do about it? What can I do? I have
explained my situation to him. I am, owing to circumstances and
the--ah--machinations of certain individuals--both circumstances and
individuals of your acquaintance, I believe--in a most unfortunate
position financially. I have no money, or very little. Our--your young
protege wished to risk some of his money in a certain speculation. I did
the same. The speculation was considered good at the time. I still
consider it good, although profit may be deferred. He took the risk with
his eyes open. He is of age. He is not a child, although--pardon
me--this new action of his might lead one to think him such. I am sorry
for him, but I do not consider myself at all responsible."

"I see. But he has used money which wasn't his to speculate with."

"I am sorry, deeply sorry. But--is that my fault?

"Well, that might be a question, mightn't it? You knew he was usin' that
money?"

"Pardon me--pardon me, Kendrick; but is that--ah--strictly true?"

"Well, he says it is. However, the question is just this: Will you help
him out by buyin' up his share in this C. M. deal? Pay him back his
sixteen hundred and take the whole thing over yourself?"

Mr. Phillips for the first time permitted himself the luxury of a real
smile.

"My _dear_ man," he observed, "you're not seriously offering such a
proposition as that, are you? You must be joking."

"It's no joke to poor George. And he's only a boy, after all. You
wouldn't want him to go to jail."

The smile disappeared. "I should be pained," protested Egbert, and
proved it by looking pained