“How do we stand now?” I asked. I knew that our purchases had not been progressing very well.
“There's five hundred shares to get,” said the King of the Street thoughtfully; “five hundred and thirty-six, to be accurate.”
“That's not a very promising outlook,” I suggested, remembering that we had secured only four hundred shares in the whole day's struggle.
“Well, there'll be an earthquake in the Street if we don't get them, and maybe there'll be one if we do. Decker is likely to dump all his shares on the market the minute we win, and it will be the devil's own job to keep the bottom from falling out if he does.”
The King of the Street then gave some brief directions.
“Now,” he continued, “you are to be at the Exchange without fail, on Monday morning. I'll be there to give you your orders. Don't be one minute behind hand, or there may be Tophet to pay.” And he emphasized his words with an impressive growl that showed the Wolf's fangs.
“I'll be on hand,” I replied.
“Well, then, go,” he growled; “and see that you come with a clear head on Monday. Keep your thirst until after the game is over.”
A few hours later I was at the house of the Wolf, but I forgot to ask for Doddridge Knapp. Luella received me with apparent indifference that contrasted sharply with her parting, and I was piqued. Mrs. Knapp was gracious, and sailed between us before I had received a dozen words.
“Where are your spirits to-night?” she asked railingly. “Have you left them in lower Pine Street?”