“You are a politician, young man. You’ll wake up and find yourself in Congress, some fine day, unless your father goes back to newspaper work and writes some editorials in your favor.”
The boy had a pleasant smile, the colonel thought.
“I have saved up some money, Colonel.”
“Keep it. That’s the best advice I can give you. Go away instantly. Great Scott, youngster, you are in Wall Street now.”
“Oh, I—I’m safe enough in this office, I guess,” retorted Carey.
The famous leader of the stock market looked at him solemnly. The boy returned the look, imperturbably. Then Colonel Treadwell laughed, and Carey laughed back at him.
“What are you doing to keep out of State’s prison?” asked Treadwell.
“I’m a clerk in the office of the Federal Pump Company, third floor, upstairs. I have saved some money and I want to know what to do with it. I read an article in the Sun the other day. It said you had advised people to put their savings into Suburban Trolley and how well they had fared.”
“That was a year ago. Trolley has gone up 50 points since then.”
“That shows how good the advice was. And you also said a young man should do something with his savings and not let them lie idle.” The young man looked straight into the little, twinkling, kindly eyes of the leader of the stock market.