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Wilson, Harry Leon, 1867-1939

"Bunker Bean"

"Here's the check. You know I've got a sort of an
idea I'd like a little more of that Federal Express stuff. Just buy me
some the same as you did before, as much as you can get on ten margins,
er--I mean on ten points."
"Nothing much doing in that stock," suggested the expert. "Why don't you
get down on some the live ones. Now there's Union Pacific--"
"I know, but I want Federal Express. That is, you see, I want it merely
for a technical purpose." He felt happy at recalling Markham's phrase.
"All right," said the expert resignedly. "We'll do what we can. May take
three or four days."
Bean started for the door.
"Say," called the expert, as if on second thought, "you're up at
Breede's office, ain't you--old J.B.'s?"
"Oh, I'm there for a few days yet," said Bean.
"Ah, ha!" said the expert. "Have a cigar!"
Bean aimlessly accepted the proffer.
"Sit down and gas a while," urged the expert genially. "Things looking
up any over your way?"
"Oh, so-so, only," said Bean. "But I can't stop, thanks! Got to hurry
back to see a man."
"Drop in again any time," said the expert. "We try to make this little
den a home for our customers."
"Thanks!" said Bean. "I'll be sure to."
"Ah ha, and ah ha!" said the expert to himself. "Now I wonder."
On his way back to the office Bean suddenly discovered that he was
chewing an unlighted cigar. He stopped to observe in a polished window
its effect on his face.


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