"What has happened? Where did you get it?"
"What some people lose others gain," Fred replied. "I got a good deal of fleece out of M. & C. the other day. Did you lose any wool?"
Tracey's face was a picture to look at. He was a loser in that deal to the tune of some $20,000, and this sudden and unexpected discovery of where it had gone was a shock to him.
"Well, I'm jiggered!" he exclaimed, looking at Allison. "I've been thirty years in Wall Street and these are the first boy bankers I ever saw."
"They are the first I ever saw, too, sir," said Allison, "and I've been thirty-five years in the Street. They've both got good heads on their shoulders."
"Just come in here and let me show you something. Mr. Tracey," said Bob, leading the way into the private office of the former bankers. "I want to show you some fleece we have on exhibition," and he pointed to a large bunch of white wool hanging to a hook on the wall above his desk, labeled:
"JAMES BRYANT, "M. & C. fleece."
The old broker roared.
"Say, I hope you won't hang mine up that way!" he exclaimed.
"We have too much respect for you to do that sir."