After a little I was able to discover a method in the outbreaks of apparent lunacy, and found that the shouts and yells and screams, the shaking of fists, and the waving of arms were merely a more or less energetic method of bidding for stocks; that the ringing of gongs and the bellow of the big man who smiled on the bear-garden from the high desk were merely the audible signs that another stock was being called; and that the brazen-voiced reading of a roll was merely the official announcement of the record of bargains and sales that had been going on before me. It was my good fortune to make out so much before the purchase of the stocks on my order list was completed. The crisis was at hand in which I must have my wits about me, and be ready to act for myself. Eppner rushed up and reported the bargains made, handing me a slip with the figures he had paid for the stocks. He was no longer the impassive engine of business that he had appeared in the back room of his office. He was now the embodiment of the riot I had been observing. His blue-black hair was rumpled and on end. His blue-black eyes flashed with animation. The blue-black dots that showed where his beard would be if he had let it were almost overwhelmed by the glow that excitement threw into his sallow cheeks. “Any more orders?” he gasped. He was trembling with excitement and suppressed eagerness for the fray. “Yes,” I shouted above the roar about me. “I want to buy Omega.” He gave a look that might have been a warning, if I could have read it; but it was gone with a shrug as though he would say, “Well, it's no business of mine.” “How much?” he asked. “Wait!” He started away at a scream from the front, but returned in a moment. He had bought or sold something, but I had not the least idea what it was, or which he had done. “It's coming!” he yelled in my ear. The gong rang. There was a confused cry from the man at the big desk. And pandemonium let loose. I had thought the riot that had gone before as near the climax of noise as it was possible to get. I was mistaken. The roar that followed the call was to the noise that had gone before as is the hurricane to the zephyr. There was a succession of yells, hoots, cries and bellows; men rushed wildly at each other, swung in a mad dance, jumped up and down; and the floor became a frantic sea of fists, arms, hats, heads, and all things movable. “Omega opens at sixty-five,” shouted Eppner. “Bid sixty,” I shouted in reply, “but get all you can, even if you have to pay sixty-five.” Eppner gave a bellow, and skated into a group of fat men, gesticulating violently. The roar increased, if such a thing were possible. In a minute Eppner was back, perspiring, and I fancied a trifle worried. “They're dropping it on me,” he gasped in my ear. “Five hundred at sixty-two and one thousand at sixty. Small lots coming fast and big ones on the way.” “Good! Bid fifty-five, and then fifty, but get them.”