“William, will you kindly explain this farce?” There was no sigh to George Mel-len’s voice as he asked this. His frown was deep.
“George, I’m not a fool, am I?” asked the richest man in the world, very earnestly. He must be patient. It was his duty; and duty should be everything to a man who, his friends thought, believed that the eyes of Providence were fixed unblinkingly on the centre of his soul.
“Just now, I should say—”
“Well, just now, I certainly am not one. I’ve sold out all my bonds and bought stocks. Yes, George. That,” gently, “is what I have done.”
“And I’ve done nothing all week but buy bonds and sell stocks!” George’s eyes took on a curious expression—the blue in them seemed to grow strangely darker as he half-closed his eyelids. Often the brothers disagreed. William was the abler. But George was the older; and he could not forget the days when he lorded it over his slender brother by physical might.
“You probably bought my bonds, and I bought your stocks,” said William, nodding as if solving a puzzle the solution of which called for no exultation. “I am sorry, George. But you must at once sell the bonds and buy stocks.”
“Explain, hang you; explain!” shouted George Mellen angrily.
“George, keep cool. Richard, will you kindly tell brother George all about Grin-nell?” He looked at the ticker with an exaggerated air of attention, to save further explanations.
George looked from his brother to the bank president, and back to his brother.
“William,” he said at length, quietly. William did not look up from the ticker. It made George Mellen angry and he said imperiously: “William, listen to me! There may be a good reason why you have sold out all your bonds. But there is none why you should not have told me before. Why didn’t you?”