I had received a telegram from Jim saying that he would return on a train arriving that evening, and asking that Cornish, Hinckley, and Lattimore be at the office to meet him. I was on the street early in the evening, looking with wonder at the crowds making merry after the dizzy day of speculative delirium. At the opera house, filled to overflowing with men admitted on tickets, the great band was discoursing its music, in alternation with the insinuating oratory of the auctioneer, under whose skilful management the odds and ends of the _Herald_ Addition were changing owners at a rate which was simply bewildering. "Don't you see," said Giddings delightedly, "that this is the only way to sell town lots?" Jim came into the office, fresh and buoyant after his long trip, his laugh as hearty and mirth-provoking as ever. After shaking hands with all, he threw himself into his own chair. "Boys," said he, "I feel like a mouse just returning from a visit to a cat convention. But what's this crowd for? It's nearly as bad as Broadway." We explained what Giddings and Tolliver had been doing. "But," said he, "do you mean to tell me that he's sold that Addition to this crowd of reubs?" "He most certainly has," said Cornish. "Well, fellows," replied Jim, "put away the accounts of this as curiosities! You'll have some difficulty in making posterity believe that there was ever a time or place where town lots were sold with magic lanterns and a brass band! And don't advertise it too much with Dorr, Wickersham and those fellows. They think us a little crazy now. But a brass band! That comes pretty near being the limit." "Gentlemen," said Mr. Lattimore, "I shall have to leave you soon; and will you kindly make use of me as soon as you conveniently can, and let me go?" "Have you got the condition of the Trescott estate figured out?" said Mr. Elkins. "Yes," said the lawyer. We all leaned forward in absorbed interest; for this was news. "Have you told these gentlemen?" Jim went on. "I have told no one." "Please give us your conclusions." "Gentlemen," said Mr. Lattimore, "I am sorry to report that the Trescott estate is absolutely insolvent! It lacks a hundred thousand dollars of being worth anything!" There was a silence for some moments. "My God!" said Hinckley, "and our trust company is on all that paper of Trescott's scattered over the East!" "What's become of the money he got on all his sales?" asked Jim. "From the looks of the check-stubs, and other indications," said Mr. Lattimore, "I should say the most of it went into Board of Trade deals." Cornish was swearing in a repressed way, and above his black beard his face was pale. Elkins sat drumming idly on the desk with his fingers. "Gentlemen," said he, "I take it to be conceded that unless the Trescott paper is cared for, things will go to pieces here. That's the same as saying that it must be taken up at all hazards." "Not exactly," said Cornish, "at _all_ hazards."