"I wrote to Miss Gaines yesterday," Callie said to him, "and told her that you--Fred Halsey--was the one who had saved her uncle's life in the Stock Exchange, and you may expect a sweet-scented note of thanks from her at any moment." On returning home from lunch Fred found the excitement in the Exchange greater than ever, the shares had bounded up to 72. He went to the office and found Tracey out. "He is around at the Exchange," the head bookkeeper said to him. "Go and report to him at once." Tracey was howling like the rest of them when Fred touched him on the arm and said: "I am ready for duty, sir." "Ah! Find Manson and bring him to me--quick!" He looked about among the brokers, but failed to find him. Meeting Bob, he told him Tracey wanted to see Manson. "He is in his office," Bob replied. "I'll go after him then," and he darted out of the side door of the Exchange and hurried around to Manson's office. "Mr. Manson," he said, "Mr. Tracey told me to bring you to him at once." "When did he tell you?" "Just two minutes ago in the Stock Exchange." Manson arose, put on his hat and went out. Fred followed him, and both were soon in the midst of the frantic mob of brokers again. Bryant was the coolest man in the whole crowd. He knew what he was there for and kept taking all the shares that were offered him. Fred saw Manson and Tracey meet and go under the gallery for a few moments' consultation. He kept an eye on them, for he was not sure of their connection with the P. M. combine. By and by they went out and he followed. In the crowd on the street he lost sight of them. Then he went back to the office and told the head clerk. "Wait here and see if he returns," said the clerk, and he did so. The broker came back a few minutes before the Exchange closed and sent Fred to the bank with a big check to deposit. After depositing the check he turned to look into the president's room. Barron was out, but he saw through the glass door that Callie was idle. She caught his eye and came out to speak to him. "Any news?" he asked. "No. Mr. Barron told a man just now that he thought P. M. would go to par to-morrow." "Then I won't sell to-day." "Why, no, wait till to-morrow. How much did you put up, Fred?" "Oh, I had to buy on a margin," he replied. "Of course. I didn't expect you to do otherwise. Did you put up as much as fifty dollars?" "Yes, more," he replied. "Oh, my!" she exclaimed. "That would get nearly ten shares on ten per cent, margin. You promised me ten per cent, for the tip, mind you." "Yes, and you shall have it," he replied, "but don't say a word or you'd be discharged." "Oh, I can hold my tongue when I want to," and she turned and went back into the office. CHAPTER VI.--Broker Bryant's Mistake. When Fred returned to the office the Exchange had closed for the day. Pacific Mail closed at 76. Bob met him at the foot of the stairs, grasped his hand and said: "We've struck it rich, Fred!" "Yes, but you want to keep mum."