Why should it now?
"It wasn't the money I was after," he began, loftily.
"_Hanh!_"
"Principle of the thing!" concluded Bean.
Breede had lost control of his capable under jaw. It sagged limply. At
last he spoke, slowly and with awe in his tone.
"You don't puzzle me any more." He shook his head solemnly. "Not any
more. I _know_ now!"
"Little old steamer--can't swim a stroke," said Bean.
"'S all," said Breede, still shaking his head helplessly.
At his desk outside Bean feigned to be absorbed in an intricate
calculation. In reality he was putting down "400,000," then "$400,000,"
then "$400,000.00" By noon he had covered several pages of his note-book
with this instructive exercise. Once he had written it $398,973.87, with
a half-formed idea of showing it to old Metzeger.
As he was going out Tully trod lightly over a sheet of very thin ice and
accosted him.
"The market was not discouraging to-day," said Tully genially.
"'S good time to buy heavily in margins," said Bean.
"Yes, sir," said Tully respectfully.
In the street he chanted "four hundred thousand dollars" to himself. He
was one of the idle rich. He hoped Cassidy would never hear of it. Then,
passing a steamship office, he recalled the horror that lay ahead of
him. Little old steamer. But was a financier who had been netted four
hundred thousand dollars to be put afloat upon the waters at the whim of
a flapper? She was going too far.
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