“And when that's gone?”
“I don't know about that yet. But I'll find some way that I like better.”
“All right,” said Oliver; “it's your own lookout. I will make my own little pile.”
They rode down town in a cab together. “Where does your information come from this time?” asked Montague.
“The same source,” was the reply.
“And is it Transcontinental again?”
“No,” said Oliver; “it's another stock.”
“What is it?”
“It's Mississippi Steel,” was the answer.
Montague turned and stared at him. “Mississippi Steel!” he gasped.