He hesitated a moment and then answered: “It won’t do for him to die.”
Wilbur walked into the adjoining room, where there was a desk, and, seating himself at it, he began to figure on a sheet of paper.
Sophie followed, and, while he was at work, leaned over him.
“You have heard from the city to-day, or you would not be figuring,” she said.
“Yes,” he replied, “Smith telegraphed me. He has put out every cent he could get hold of, and has invested all ours, too. We shall clear an immense sum. The stock is a drug on the market, and can be got for almost nothing.”
“What does he advise?” Sophie asked.
“He telegraphed that Greer would bring things to a climax.”
“What did he mean by that?”
“Why, stupid, to return the old man,” answered Wilbur, “and then unload. He don’t know but what Greer still has him.”
“And——”