Arriving at the nursery they stopped short at the threshold. The room was fairly glutted with people, all talking and moving about at the same time. In the far corner was a ticker tape machine, which accounted for the frenetic clicking sound. In the center of all this activity, A.P. looked on from his crib with an expression of enormous satisfaction. Somewhere a telephone rang and, except for the clicking of the machine, the room fell magically silent. A young man with thick-rimmed spectacles produced the phone from the floor, answered it, then brought it forward to A.P.'s crib.
"For you, A.P.," he said briskly. "Brandish out on the Coast."
A.P. nodded sagely and gave his attention to the phone. He listened briefly, pursing his lips.
"Now, just a minute there, Hank," he broke in, "you should be the last one to question my judgment after this morning. Central Mines paid off, didn't they? You're darned right they did, and handsomely, too. Now, I'm telling you, and I'm not going to repeat myself—put your gains on Spartan Steel. And remember, I'm in for twenty per cent for the tip. That's right. Goodbye."
He nodded to the young man who promptly removed the phone from his ear and took it away. At the doorway, Lester stepped resolutely into the room.
"Now, just a second!" he said loudly. "What do all you people think you're doing in my house?"
All eyes swiveled in his direction. A.P. looked around and frowned slightly, as might an ancient warrior who had discovered that he had been riveted into his armor with a gnat.
"Oh, so you're back," he said mildly.
"How did all these people get in here?" Lester demanded.