"You look as if you had been," I said courteously; but Billoo brushed the remark aside as if it had been a fly.
"If we try to unload," he said, "the market begins to collapse. We can't unload, except a little at a time, and still prices get lower and lower and margins thinner and thinner. Now, I happen to know"—he looked about him importantly—"that to-morrow will hear the failure of a very well-known house, and after that's announced—God knows."
"How true that is!" I said. "But tell me: suppose you gentlemen deliberately absented yourselves for a few days—wouldn't it restore confidence? Wouldn't the other brokers say: 'Billoo, Randall, Tombs, Marshall, Bedlo, etc., don't seem to think there's much doing. None of 'em's here—what's the use of me being scared?'"
"It would have the contrary effect, Sam," said Tombs solemnly. "They would think that we had decamped in a body for Canada."
"I don't know," said I, "but it would be a better thing for the country if you all did ship to Canada—I don't think there's much doing out-doors to-day. Hear that wind!"
"If I can get rid of all my holdings," said Billoo, "I'll sit tight.
We'll see lower prices before we see higher."
"Well," said I, "I'll bet you we don't."
"Young man," said Billoo, and he looked almost well and happy, "just name your sum."
"I'll bet you a thousand," I said.
"Sammy," said Tombs very sweetly, "have you got another thousand up your sleeve?"