Several of the party went, Marge being among them. The president “rang up” the little bank, and bawled,—
“Got any New York quotations to-day?”
“Yes,” replied a thin, far-away voice.
“How’s the stock market?”
“Pretty comfortable, considering.”
“Any figures on E. & W.?”
“El,” was the only sound the president could evolve from the noise that followed.
“Umph!” said he; “what does that mean? ‘El’ must be ‘twelve,’—hundred and twelve. Still rising, you see; though why it should have gone so high and so suddenly I don’t exactly see. Hello,” he resumed, as he turned again to the mouth-piece; “will you give me those figures again, and not quite so loud? I can’t make them out.”
Again the message came, but it did not seem any more satisfactory, for the president looked astonished, and then frowned; then he shouted back,—
“There’s some mistake; you didn’t get the right letters: I said E. & W.,—Eastern and Western. One moment. Mr. Marge, won’t you kindly take my place? My hearing isn’t very keen.”