“I’ve been expecting a representative of Mr. Whitemore, as those corn options expire at noon to-day. I am bound to say I looked for an older person than you. I presume you have a power of attorney to act for him?” said Mr. Peabody, holding out his hand. Vance produced the paper, which the gentleman very carefully examined. “How am I to know that you are really the person set forth in this document--that you are actually Mr. Whitemore’s representative? It may be a forgery, and you may be acting for people opposed to that gentleman’s interests,” said Mr. Peabody sharply. “I have a letter of introduction which ought to cover that point,” answered Vance, promptly producing an envelope addressed to the person he was talking to. “Hum!” said Mr. Peabody, glancing it over. “Seems to be all right. However, as his option is a large one covering grain in our three elevators, I’ve got to be careful. Excuse me a moment.” “Are you going to call up Mr. Whitemore?” asked Vance as the gentleman rose from his desk. “Why do you ask?” asked Mr. Peabody abruptly, casting a suspicious look at the boy. “Because, for business reasons he expressly desires that you should call up Mr. Walcott of the Chicago National Bank and ask for him. He does not want any communication at his office direct.” “Very well,” replied the gentleman, who easily surmised Mr. Whitemore’s reasons. The elevator magnate entered a telephone booth at the end of the room and sat there a matter of fifteen minutes. “I am satisfied that you are Mr. Whitemore’s representative,” he said as he reseated himself at his desk. “Now, young man, we will talk business. Of course you don’t expect me to close with you except at the market price?” “I expect to settle with you at the price named in the option, less the amount paid to secure it,” said Vance promptly. “You ought to know that corn is several points above the figure stated in the option. We cannot close on those terms.” “Do I understand that you refuse to make a settlement of this transaction according to the terms of the option?” asked Vance, rising to his feet. “Sit down, young man,” said the elevator magnate. “You have the voucher for the option with you, I suppose?” “Certainly.” “I should like to see it.” “You are prepared to redeem the option now, are you?” and Mr. Peabody glanced at the clock, which indicated close on to the noon hour. “Yes, sir.” The gentleman considered the matter for several minutes, during which he cast penetrating looks at Vance’s clear-cut, determined face. “Does Mr. Whitemore propose to hold this corn in storage here?” “I have no instructions as to its immediate removal,” replied Vance; “that is all I can say.” “Very well. Have you Mr. Whitemore’s check for the difference?” “I have Mr. Whitemore’s signed check, made out to your order, which I will hand you as soon as the amount has been computed.” “It is possible there will be a difference in our figures,” said Mr. Peabody, with a grim smile.