"To think that I almost drove you away from my door the other day!" he cried in a whirl. "Mr. Brown, what don't I owe you. What don't I owe you?"
"You owe me nothing," I replied. "Your gratitude is entirely due to Mr. Agar Hume, sir; I was merely his messenger."
"Messenger or not," he retorted warmly, "you brought me a message which has made my fortune, and when this business is over I shall insist upon making you a handsome present, Mr. Brown."
I waved my hand and shrugged my shoulders. "My master does not allow me to accept presents," I said, with dignity. "But that reminds me, I am keeping him in suspense. How many shares did you sell to-day?"
"Five hundred thousand!"
"And the figure?"
"Forty shillings for the first hundred; thirty-five for the second; thirty for the third, and twenty for the last two. The price dropped like a rocket in the last half-hour, and now the whole exchange is full of bears; there is scarcely a single buyer offering. I have no doubt but that to-morrow there will be a further heavy fall."
"Hum!" said I. "Let me see, you have now in credit for my master one million one hundred and twenty-five thousand pounds. That is to say, of course, on settlement. Am I right?"
"Perfectly, Mr. Brown. And for that sum I have disposed of seven hundred thousand shares. I hope that Mr.—er—ah—Hume—will be satisfied."
"I am sure he will be." I put on my hat. "Keep on selling till they reach five shillings, please, then buy scrip through another broker, or more, as fast as possible, until we stand even. Those are my master's latest orders, Mr. Sims."