"You are a clever man, Colonel Midas," grinned Wilbraham. "If I had said 'yes' to that question I'd have lost my power. But I'm too old a bird to be caught that way. You go ahead and form your company, and sell your securities to the public at par, pay me my billion, and I'll transfer the business to you, C. O. D."
"Done!" said Midas, and he returned to his fellow-captains on the Street.
Wilbraham was felicitating himself upon a wondrously good stroke of business, when another caller entered his room, this time unannounced.
"How do you do, Mr. Wilbraham?" said the stranger, as he mysteriously materialized before Wilbraham's desk.
"How are you?" said Wilbraham. "Your face is familiar to me, but I can't just recall where I have met you."
"My name is Oberon, sir," said the stranger, "I am the secretary of the United States Fairy Company. There is a little trouble over your account, and I have called to see if we can't—"
Wilbraham's heart sank within him.
"It—it isn't overdrawn, is it?" he whispered, hoarsely.
"No, it isn't," said the secretary.
"By Jove!" cried Wilbraham, drawing a deep sigh of relief, and springing to his feet, grasping Oberon by both hands. "Sit down, sit down! You have been a benefactor to me, sir."