When he had cleared his throat of the fiery liquor, the Wolf turned to me with a more composed and kindly expression. “I never drink during business hours,” he said with a trace of apology in his tone. “It's bad for business, and for the drink, too. But this is a little trouble I've had a touch of in the last two months. Just remember, young man, that I expect you to do your drinking after business is over--and not too much then. And now to business,” said my employer with decision. “Take down these orders.” The King of the Street was himself once more, and I marveled again at the quickness and clearness of his directions. I was to buy one hundred shares of this stock, sell five hundred of that stock, buy one thousand of another in blocks of one hundred, and sell the same in a single block at the last session. “And the last thing you do,” he continued, “buy every share of Omega that is offered. There'll be a big block of it thrown on the market, and more in the afternoon. Buy it, whatever the price. There's likely to be a big slump. Don't bid for it--don't keep up the price, you understand--but get it.” “If somebody else is snapping it up, do I understand that I'm not to bid over them?” “You're not to understand anything of the kind,” he said, with a little disgust in his tone. “You're to get the stock. You've bought and sold enough to know how to do that. But don't start a boom for the price. Let her go down. Sabe?” I felt that there was deep water ahead. “Perfectly,” I said. “I think I see the whole thing.” The King of the Street looked at me with a grim smile. “Maybe you do, but all the same you'd better keep your money out of this little deal unless you can spare it as well as not. Well, get back to your room. You've got your check-book all right?” Alone once more I was in despair of unraveling the tangle in which I was involved. I felt convinced that Doddridge Knapp was the mover in the plots that sought my life. He had, I felt sure, believed me dead, and was startled into fear at my unheralded appearance. Yet why should he trust me with his business? I could not doubt that the buying and selling he had given to my care were important. I knew nothing about the price of stocks but I was sure that the orders he had given me involved many thousands of dollars. Yet it might be--the thought struck home to me--that the credit had not been provided for me, and my checks on the Nevada Bank would serve only to land me in jail. The disturbed condition of the books attracted my attention once more. The volumes were scattered over the desk and thrown about the room as though somebody had been seeking for a mislaid document. I looked curiously over them as I replaced them on the shelves. They were law-books, California Reports, and the ordinary text-books and form-books of the attorney. All bore on the fly-leaf the name of Horace H. Plymire, but no paper or other indication of ownership could I find.