“Say, Bishop, I just got out in time, didn’t I? L. S. has gone to pieces, and the Exchange is in a panic.” Millie, with a startled look, glanced at Jack. The boy had turned as white as a ghost. “You’re wanted at the ’phone, Hazard,” said another clerk, poking his head inside the sanctum. “May I----” began the boy, in a shaky voice. “Certainly; answer it,” said the manager, without looking up. “Poor boy,” murmured Millie as Jack almost staggered out of the private office. “I feel so sorry for him,” and she looked as if she wanted to cry. “What’s the matter with your messenger?” asked Mr. Warren. “Nothing that I know of,” replied Mr. Bishop, in surprise. “Why?” “Why, he looked as if he was going to faint just now.” “I didn’t observe it; maybe he’s sick. He didn’t say anything about feeling bad. So the bottom has fallen out of L. S., eh?” In the meantime Jack reached the ’phone and grasped the receiver in a mechanical way. “Well?” he shouted, hoarsely. “That you, Jack?” “That you, Mr. Bird?” “Yes. L. S. is on the slump, and no telling where it will fetch up; but you’re safe, young man. Your order to sell came in the very nick of time. I disposed of your stock at seventy-six, the top figure, and I had hardly recorded the transaction before Yates, a big gun, dumped ten thousand shares on the market. Hartz couldn’t handle it, and pandemonium has resulted. I congratulate you. You had the closest kind of a call. See you later. Good-bye.” “Gee whiz!” muttered Jack as he hung up the receiver, barely repressing a whoop of delight. “I’ve scooped the trick! And to think that a minute ago I was nearly frightened out of my boots!” CHAPTER XII. THE DUDE AND THE VIOLETS. Jack hustled on his next errand as if the wings of Mercury were attached to his ankles. He was fairly tickled to death over the coup he had made on the market. Five thousand dollars! It kept ringing in his ears and marked time to his nimble footsteps. And it was pleasant music, too, you may well believe. When he got back, the first thing he did was to tell of his good luck to Millie. And wasn’t she glad? Well, don’t say a word! She had been fearing the worst and sympathizing with him in her mind, and after all it had been a false alarm. “What are you going to do with so much money?” she asked, with a smile. “I haven’t decided whether I’ll buy a farm or start a bank,” replied Jack, with a happy grin. “What a comparison!” laughed the pretty stenographer. A little while afterward he told Mr. Bishop, and the manager was amazed. “You’re a lucky boy, Jack; but don’t try it again.” Late in the afternoon he went around to Bird’s office. The big broker was in and expecting a visit from him.