“Yes.”
“I told you I would.”
“An accident is not a fair test of—”
“An accident is not a fair test of anything, because there is no such thing in the stock-market as an accident! The sooner you let that fact seep in the better it will be for the bank account of your children. I must be going up-town now. Good night, gentlemen.”
As early as practicable the next day, after the interest had been figured out to the ultimate penny, Mr. James Burnett Robison was informed by Mr. George B. Richards that he had to his credit the sum of $268,537.71 with the firm.
“I've won my bet!” murmured Mr. Robison, staring absently at the broker.
“You have indeed, Mr. Robison.” Richards spoke deferentially.
“H'm! I hope I can induce Ethel to—Mr. Richards, I'll thank you to sign this paper. There is a notary public up-stairs.”
This was the document:
To WHOM IT MAY CONCERN: