“Yes, I see. But how’s a feller like me goin’ to make any money, Bob, if he don’t bet any?”
“Now, Tom, you’re gettin’ to somethin’ I’ve been thinkin’ about, and I’ll let you into the secret. You see, Tom, I don’t believe in horse bettin’ the way you do, but I ain’t afraid to take chances all the same.”
“What is it, Bob?” interrupted Tom, eager to get into the secret.
“Wall Street,” replied Bob, striking the attitude of a money king.
“Do you mean it, Bob?” asked young Flannery, incredulously.
“Of course I mean it, Tom. There’s piles of money down there.”
“I know there is, Bob, but how are fellers like you ’n’ me going to get it?”
“Why, by speculatin’, of course. How does any of ’em make it?”
“Them fellers are all rich, Bob. They didn’t go down there the same as what we would go, with only five dollars,” replied Tom.
“They didn’t, did they? Well, tell me if Jay Gould, and the old man Sage, and half a dozen more of them big fellers, didn’t go into Wall Street without a cent?”