Jack dreamed that night that his D. & S. stock had gone up out of sight and that he had made $10,000,000.
For the rest of the week, whenever he had the chance, he kept his eye on the indicator that ticked out its monotonous song in the reception-room during business hours, and every day D. & S. advanced, sometimes with provoking slowness and sometimes with little bounds, like a boy chasing himself up a flight of stairs.
But the tendency was always upward.
“When will it stop?” mused the lad; “when go the other way? How long dare I hold on?”
And Millie Price watched his eager attention to that fatal piece of mechanism with an anxious eye.
She said nothing.
He hadn’t told her he had embarked in the treacherous whirlpool of Wall Street speculation again, but she knew with the unerring accuracy of a sympathetic and deeply interested observer experienced in all the signs that go with the game.
And it worried her—for exactly how much she thought of Jack no one but herself in this world knew.
CHAPTER XVI.
PLAYING FOR A HIGH STAKE.