A cold sweat covered Fletcher's shivering limbs, and for a moment he stood irresolute; but recollecting Bullion, he rallied himself, and, assenting to the proposition, bade Sandford good-bye; then, as the only revenge practicable, he cursed him with the heartiest emphasis, when his back was turned. Presently Tonsor came with the news of Kerbstone's failure.
"The street is full of rumors," he said;—"Bullion is a large owner in the Neversink."
"Bosh!" said Fletcher,—"Bullion is in there for fifty thousand, to be sure; but what is that? He has other property enough,—half a million, at least."
"Still, a pebble brought down Goliath. A house in New York, worth a million, failed yesterday for want of twenty-five thousand."
"Don't you be alarmed. Bullion knows. He isn't going to fail."
"I want to get ten thousand from him to take some shares I bought for him."
"How soon?"
"Now; and he is not at his office."
"I'll get you the money from our house. I haven't deposited the funds for to-day yet, and I'll put in a memorandum which Bullion will make good."
"Hadn't you better wait?"