In spite of his natural assurance, Jack’s nerves were all of a tingle during the next ten days as he followed the rising quotations of L. S. from 36½ to 76, the closing figure when the Exchange shut down on the tenth day. Several times he had actually been on the point of ordering the big broker to sell him out, but he hesitated at the golden prospect of a higher market. “With a syndicate probably backed by millions behind it, it will surely go to par,” he reasoned with boyish enthusiasm. He was assailed by the same fatal temptation that has ruined thousands on the very brink of a successful coup. Twice Jack had received a hint from Mr. Bird--the last a strong one. He considered them and then decided to hold on a while longer. “Say, Jack, what’s the matter with you; you’re as nervous as an old woman,” said Ed as they were on their way home on the afternoon of the day the stock touched 76. “Am I?” returned the lad, with a queer sort of laugh. “I didn’t notice it.” “Sure you are. What’s up? You aren’t thinking of running off with Millie Price and getting married, are you?” jokingly. “Hardly, old man.” “Haven’t been robbing the office safe with a view of emigrating to Canada?” “Not much chance for that,” with what was intended to be a cheerful grin. “Then what’s troubling you?” “Is my hair turning gray?” “I haven’t noticed that it is,” said Potter, in some surprise. “Why?” “I didn’t know but that it was, you seemed so concerned about me.” “Stop your jollying. You’re different to what you were a week ago, and that’s enough to show that you’ve got something on your mind. Ain’t I your friend?” “Certainly.” “Then you oughtn’t to keep me in the dark.” “I won’t--after to-morrow.” “Why not now?” “Because I’ve particular reasons.” Ed was by no means satisfied with this answer, but he had to let it go at that. Jack’s mother and sister had also noticed and remarked on the change that had come over him, but to all their anxious inquiries he refused to admit that there was anything the matter with him. That evening he spent studying the market quotations for the past week and figuring upon the chances of L. S. going higher. Finally the big broker’s warning that at any moment he might expect to be lost in the shuffle if he tempted fortune too far decided his course of action for the next day. “I’ll order Mr. Bird to sell first thing in the morning,” he said to himself. Once he had reached a decision, the matter was settled for good and all. Notwithstanding that fact, his dreams that night were enough to set his hair on end. Nevertheless he was perfectly cool and collected next morning when he reached the office and exchanged the usual greetings with Millie Price. “I’ve never seen you look so much like a little man of business as you do to-day, Jack,” laughed Millie. “And I’ve never seen you look half so pretty as you do this morning,” responded the lad, gallantly. Millie blushed to the eyes.