ive it."

"Don't you have to hone it?"

"No, sir; it's never been touched to a stone or leather. You just get up
and try it once. Those whiskers of yours won't look any the worse for a
chopping."

Peterson laughed, and lathered his face, while Bannon put an edge on the
razor, testing it with a hair.

"Say, that's about the best yet," said Peterson, after the first stroke.

"You're right it is."

Bannon looked on for a few minutes, then he took a railroad "Pathfinder"
from his grip and rapidly turned the pages. Peterson saw it in the
mirror, and asked, between strokes:--

"What are you going to do?"

"Looking up trains."

While Peterson was splashing in the washbowl, Bannon took his turn at
the mirror.

"How's the Duluth job getting on?" asked Peterson, when Bannon had
finished, and was wiping his razor.

"All right--'most done. Just a little millwright work left, and some
cleaning up."

"There ain't any marine leg on the house, is there?"

"No."

"How big a house is it?"

"Eight hundred thousand bushels."

"That so? Ain't half as big as this one, is it?"

"Guess not. Built for the same people, though, Page & Company."

"They must be going in pretty heavy."

"They are. There's a good deal of talk about it. Some of the boys up at
the office say there's going to be fun with December wheat before they
get through with it. It's been going up pretty steadily since the end of
September--it was seventy-four and three-eighths Saturday in
Minneapolis. It ain't got up quite so high down here yet, but the boys
say there's going to be a lot of money in it for somebody."

"Be a kind of a good thing to get in on, eh?" said Peterson, cautiously.

"Maybe, for those that like to put money in wheat. I've got no money for
that sort of thing myself."

"Yes, of course," was Peterson's quick reply. "A fellow doesn't want to
run them kind o' chances. I don't believe in it myself."

"The fact's this,--and this is just between you and me, mind you; I
don't know anything about it, it's only what I think,--somebody's buying
a lot of December wheat, or the price wouldn't keep going up. And I've
got a notion that, whoever he is, it's Page & Company that's selling it
to him. That's just putting two and two together, you see. It's the real
grain that the Pages handle, and if they sell to a man it means that
they're going to make a mighty good try at unloading it on him and
making him pay for it. That's all I know about i