"Well, it's the very time," Bascom retorted. "Look here, Morgan. I know the set you ran with at college. There's Johnny Pathmore-"
"And he's up to his eyes already. When I smash he smashes. And Dave Donaldson will have to readjust his life to about one hundred and sixty a month. And as for Chris Westhouse, he'll have to take to the movies for a livelihood. He always was good at theatricals, and I happen to know he's got the ideal "film "face."
"There's Charley Tippery," Bascom suggested, though it was patent that he was hopeless about it.
Yes," Francis agreed with equal hopelessness. "There's only one thing the matter with him his father still lives."
"The old cuss never took a flyer in his life," Bascom supplemented. "There's never a time he can't put his hand on millions. And he still lives, worse luck."
"Charley could get him to do it, and would, except the one thing that's the matter with me."
"No securities left?" his broker queried.
Francis nodded.
Catch the old man parting with a dollar without due security."
Nevertheless, a few minutes later, hoping to find Charley Tippery in his office during the noon hour, Francis was sending in his card. Of all jewelers and gem merchants in New York, the Tippery establishment was the greatest. Not only that. It was esteemed the greatest in the world. More of the elder Tippery's money was invested in the great Diamond Corner, than even those in the know of most things knew of this particular thing.