“You told me that if I had twenty-five or fifty dollars to spare, to buy some--on margin, of course.” “Oh,” said Hartz, letting go of his arm. “So I went the limit of my little pile,” grinned Jack. “Then you made a haul?” “I haven’t sold it yet.” “You’ve a good nerve,” said Hartz. “That’s what the dentist told me once when he yanked out a back molar.” “Better sell to-day,” chuckled Hartz. “I’ll think about it. Kinder ’fraid I might break the market if I let it all out at once.” Hartz punched him in the ribs and passed on. When Jack got back to the office after lunch he meandered over to the indicator. Before he reached it, Millie had him by the arm. Her eyes were blazing with excitement. “Sell, Jack; sell! D. & G. has just been quoted at ninety-two.” “Thanks, Millie,” he said with provoking calmness, picking his teeth with a quill and looking at her quizzically; “but I guess it’s sold by this time.” “What do you mean?” she asked, with wondering eyes. “Well, you see, when I went out to eat I stopped in at the bank and told them to close the deal the moment the stock touched my figure. That puts it up to them, in a way, and of course they notified their broker to that effect. I guess I’m safe enough now.” “Oh, Jack, I’m so happy!” was all she could say. CHAPTER XVIII. A LUCKY DEAL. On the following afternoon Jack Hazard met his chum, as usual, at the corner of Wall Street and Broadway, and the two boys started homeward. “I believe I owe you something like a hundred dollars,” casually remarked Jack, putting his hand in his pocket and fishing up a roll of bills. “You owe me what?” exclaimed the astonished Ed. “One hundred dollars,” replied the young messenger, tersely, “and here it is.” He held out the bills. “Oh, come off!” grinned Potter, with an envious glance at the wad. “Aren’t you going to take ’em?” asked Jack, with a chuckle. “What’ll I take ’em for? They don’t belong to me.” “Of course they belong to you. Do you think I’m flinging one hundred dollars of my money at you?” “I don’t see how they belong to me.” “You want to get a new memory or you’ll land in the tureen first thing you know, Ed Potter. Some little time ago you told me that you had dropped fifteen dollars on a hundred-to-one shot that Denny McFadden induced you to go up against.” “That’s right,” admitted Ed. “Didn’t I promise you then that I would stake you twenty-five dollars’ worth in the next deal I went into on the market?” “So you did,” Ed suddenly remembered. “And have you really made another play in stocks?” “Yep; been working a deal these two weeks back.” “Gee! And you never told me.” “I wanted to surprise you.” “I guess you have.” “I mean by winning a little stake for you.” “Oh!” exclaimed Ed.