“How could I find out if Bentley & Clews have any D. & G. stock?” asked Jack of Mr. Bishop, at the first opportunity.
“Why do you wish to know?” asked the manager, perhaps a bit sharply, for the question coming from Jack rather surprised him.
“I have a personal reason for wishing to know,” replied the boy, respectfully.
Mr. Bishop looked at him a moment or two before he answered.
“I happen to know that Bentley & Clews have no D. & G. stock in their possession—at least, they didn’t have an hour ago. They delivered a large block of it this morning to Mr. Hartz—all they had on hand.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Of course, whatever I tell you or you may accidentally learn while in our employ must go no further. You understand that, I suppose?”
“Certainly, sir.”
That night, before Jack went to the theatre, he had decided to buy as many shares of D. & G. on a ten-per-cent margin as he could afford.
The bank where Jack had his money on deposit—except $500 with which he had reopened an account at the Seaman’s Savings—had a department devoted to the purchase and sale, through outside brokers, of stock for the accommodation of its customers.