Tamms said very little going home; and Charlie’s mind was also active. “The Governor” had certainly made of him his most intimate and confidential clerk; but such was his cleverness that Charlie felt he knew rather less of Mr. Tamms’s projects than he did before. Upon one thing, after some reflection, Charlie was decided; and that was to very carefully tear up and throw away the telegram he had written the night before for Mrs. Gower. For Tamms had given too much advice to the Deacon, by half. The next day Charlie got up betimes, and was driven to the pier by Mr. Tamms. “I need not tell you,” said that gentleman, “not to say anything about what I told you, or of our seeing the Deacon yesterday.” “Of course not,” said Charlie. “The Deacon is a very overbearing man in business affairs,” added Tamms, absently. “And by the way, Townley, any chance bits of Allegheny Central stock you can pick up--at the board, you may take for us.” “Certainly,” said Charlie. “How much?” “I don’t particularly care--ten thousand or so, perhaps--you’ll hardly get more than that. But do it quietly.” “The deuce!” thought Charlie to himself; but he held his peace; and by ten o’clock he was back at the office and hard at work. Mr. Tamms did not return; and Charlie had orders to tell everyone that he was temporarily out of Wall Street, taking his well-earned vacation at the seaside. On that day there began to be a sudden activity in Starbuck Oil. At first the price went up a point or two; and then some thousand shares were thrown upon the market, and it fell more than twenty points. Charlie fancied that the selling came from the good Deacon; but who the buyers were, his sharpest investigations failed to show. On the day after, there were rumors of a coming deficit, and the stock went down with a rush, carrying with it the Terminal bonds. The same afternoon there was an item on the “tape” to the effect that the September coupon would probably have to be funded. The next day was a Sunday; but on Monday poor Charlie was flooded with letters, angry and beseeching, and with irate or troubled customers, who were holders of the bonds in question. He had but one course open to him: to those who paid for the bonds, he regretted that unforeseen expenses had made the Terminal enterprise so unprofitable; and to those who had not paid for their bonds as yet he added a polite request for further “margin.” Mr. Tamms in person dropped in late that afternoon; and Charlie told him the condition of affairs, though he could have sworn that gentleman was paying no attention to any word he spoke. “Keep at it,” he said, when Charlie had got through. “You can tell them that we, too, have a large block of bonds, besides owning nearly all the stock, and are heavy losers ourselves. No one could foresee it, of course. Mr. Townley still at Lenox, I suppose?”