fifty shares, I believe." Markham smiled again, but seemed to
try not to smile. He apparently considered it a rare jest that Bean
should own any shares of anything; a thing for smiles even though one
must humour the fellow.

"Fifty shares! Well, well, that's good! Now the fact is, old man, I can
place those for you this afternoon. Some of the Federal people going to
meet informally here, and they happen to want a little block or two of
the stuff, for voting purposes, you know. Not that it's worth anything.
How'd you happen to get down on such a dead one?"

"Well, you know, I had a sort of a plan about that stock. I don't
know--"

"Of course I can't get you what you paid for it," continued the affable
Markham, "because it's poor stuff, but maybe they'll stand a point or
two above to-day's quotations. Just let me have them and I'll get your
check made out right away; you can go out of here with more money
to-night than any one else will." Markham was prattling on amiably,
still trying not to be overcome by the funny joke of Bean owning things.

"I don't want to sell," declared Bean. There had been a moment's
hesitation, but that opening, "By the way," of Markham's had finally
decided him. You couldn't tell anything about such a man.

"Oh, come now, old chap," cajoled Markham, "Be a good fellow. It's only
needed for a technical purpose, you know."

"I guess I'll hold on to it," said Bean. "I've been thinking for a long
time--"

"Last quarter's dividend was 3 per cent.," reminded Markham.

"I know," admitted Bean, "and that's just why. You see I've got an
idea--"

"As a matter of fact, I think J.B. doesn't exactly approve of his people
here in the office speculating. He doesn't consider it ... well, you know
one of you chaps here, if you weren't all loyal, might very often take
advantage--you get my point?"

"I guess I won't sell just now," observed Bean.

"I don't understand this at all," said Markham, allowing it to be seen
that he was shocked.

Bean wavered, but he was nettled. He was going to lose his job anyway.
You might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb. To Markham standing
there, hurt and displeased, he looked up and announced curtly:

"I can imagine nothing of less consequence!"

He had the felicity to see Markham wince as from an unseen blow. Then
Markham walked back to his own room. His tread would have broken ice
capable of sustaining a hundred Tullys.

He saw it all now. They were plotti