But Bob was off like a flash, and Fred judged by that B. & H. was humming, for Manson was booming it and Bob was his messenger. Seeing two brokers talking near the New street entrance, Fred went over near enough to hear one say: "It will go to 70 to-morrow and somebody will be burnt." "Yes, I think so, too," The Exchange closed for the day, and Fred went around to meet Bob again. He met Manson at the foot of the stairs, his face flushed from the excitement of his tremendous battle in the Exchange. "Ah!" the big broker exclaimed. "I see you caught another thief to-day. Why don't you turn detective? It seems to be your forte." "I'd rather be a broker, sir," Fred replied. "A broker, eh?" and Manson looked him full in the eyes. "Think you have nerve enough for that?" "Yes, sir. I've got nerve enough. It's money I want." Manson laughed and shook his head. "We all want money. That's what we are here for. But there are more losers than winners." "What one man loses another one wins," said Fred. "Of course, but one man sometimes wins from a thousand at one turn, so you see there are always more losers than winners," and the big broker went on up to his office, leaving Fred at the foot of the stairs waiting for Bob. He was quietly waiting there and watching people come and go when he was startled by a cry above. He glanced up and saw some one falling from the upper floor and sprang aside just in time to escape being crushed. It was a messenger boy from Broker Tracey's office. "Oh, Lord!" gasped Fred. "He must be killed!" and he sprang forward to pick him up. The boy was unconscious. Instantly a dozen brokers were on hand to render aid. Broker Tracey came running down to see about him and get the telegram the boy was sent out with. Bob came hurrying down too. "This is too bad," said Tracey. "I am sorry. He is a good messenger. Janitor! Janitor!" The janitor came and by that time the boy had recovered consciousness. He groaned in agony. The physician, whose office was in the building, examined him. "Left arm and leg broken," he said. "Lord, but I am sorry. Doctor, take charge of him, see him through and send your bill to me. Tom, my boy, your pay shall go on just the same. See if anything is wanted, janitor, and get it for him. Where is the telegram, Tom?" "In my pocket, sir," said Tom, white as a sheet. It was found and given to the broker, who turned to Bob and said: "Please send that off for me, Bob, and if you know of a boy who can make a good messenger send him to me in the morning." "Hello, Fred! This is the place for you!" and Bob grabbed Fred by the arm and forced him around in front of Tracey. "Here's the one you want, sir--Fred Halsey." "All right; come here to-morrow morning." So the next morning Fred went to Tracey's office and was engaged as messenger. During the day B. & H. went to 87 and Fred as soon as he was sent on an errand stopped in at the bank and bad his shares sold for Halsey & Co.