[CHAPTER V.
HOW MCGLORY WAS FOOLED.]
McGlory found his way to the address in Liberty Street without any difficulty. But he was too early. The Stock Exchange had not yet opened, and only a few clerks were at work in the brokerage offices of Random & Griggs.
The cowboy sat down in a room where there were a number of chairs facing a big blackboard. There were a stepladder and a chair in front of the blackboard, and off to one side was a machine in a glass case with a high basket standing under it. A ribbon of paper hung from the machine into the basket. This, of course, was the “ticker” which received and recorded the quotations of stocks at the Exchange, but it was not yet time for it to begin work.
McGlory and Matt were at least an hour too early in setting about their morning’s business.
While the cowboy sat in his chair in front of the blackboard, wondering how long he could wait for Random or Griggs and yet be at the Flatiron Building as per appointment with Matt, a man sauntered in, looked at an office boy who was just going out with an armful of ticker tape, and then approached McGlory.
He was the gentleman in the noisy apparel—he of the cigar, and the newspaper, and the listening ear and scheming brain. He was playing boldly, for the stakes were worth the risk.
“Young man,” said he to McGlory, “are you waiting for some one?”
“I’m waiting for one of the big high boys that boss the layout,” answered McGlory.
“Indeed!” The man flashed a quick look around and made sure that only he and McGlory were in the room. “Well,” he went on, “I am Mr. Random.”