The telephone jingled. Bowen caught up the receiver and heard Miss Ferguson’s voice.
“This is Bob Bowen speaking, Miss Ferguson. I’ll be down in a few minutes. Dickover has made me an offer of ten thousand for your stock, and I want your advice.”
He heard the girl’s voice catch. “Ten—ten thousand!”
“Yep. What I want to know is this: Do you want me to play safe on this stock or do you want me to handle it as I would my own? I warn you, there’s a vast difference between the two! I can’t warn you too seriously.”
She did not reply at once. Bowen waited until waiting grew intolerable.
“Hello! Are you there, Miss Ferguson?”
“Yes. I—I was thinking. Please, Mr. Bowen, handle that stock entirely as if it were your own. I’ll take the chance!”
“Good! Thank Heaven for your courage! I’ll be down presently.”
He had quite forgotten the five thousand which she bore for him.
Bowen returned to Dickover’s rooms in no great haste; talking with Tonopah would take time as well as money. But when he entered, he found Dickover giving his private secretary some instructions. “And rush the papers here!” concluded the magnate. “With witnesses.”