“But you’re all in, boy. I’ve been watching your fight, even before your return. Tampico Pet is your last.” Francis shook his head. “I’d scarcely say that,” he lied. “I’ve got assets my market enemies never dream of. I’m luring them on, that’s all, just luring them on. Of course, Regan, I’m telling you this in confidence. You were my father’s friend. Mine is going to be some clean up, and, if you’ll take my tip, in this short market you start buying. You’ll be sure to settle with the sellers long in the end.” “What are your other assets?” Francis shrugged his shoulders. “That’s what they’re going to find out when they’re full up with my stuff.” “It’s a bluff!” Regan admired explosively. “You’ve got the old man’s nerve, all right. But you’ve got to show me it isn’t bluff.” Regan waited, and Francis was suddenly inspired. “It is,” he muttered. “You’ve named it. I’m drowning over my back-teeth now, and they’re the highest out of the wash. But I won’t drown if you will help me. All you’ve got to do is to remember my father and put out your hand to save his son. If you’ll back me up, we’ll make them all sick....” And right there the Wolf of Wall Street showed his teeth. He pointed to Richard Henry Morgan’s picture. “Why do you think I kept that hanging on the wall all these years?” he demanded. Francis nodded as if the one accepted explanation was their tried and ancient friendship. “Guess again,” Regan sneered grimly. Francis shook his head in perplexity. “So I shouldn’t ever forget him,” the Wolf went on. “And never a waking moment have I forgotten him.——Remember the Conmopolitan Railways Merger? Well, old R.H.M. double-crossed me in that deal. And it was some double-cross, believe me. But he was too cunning ever to let me get a come-back on him. So there his picture has hung, and here I’ve sat and waited. And now the time has come.” “You mean?” Francis queried quietly. “Just that,” Regan snarled. “I’ve waited and worked for this day, and the day has come. I’ve got the whelp where I want him at any rate.” He glanced up maliciously at the picture. “And if that don’t make the old gent turn in his grave....” Francis rose to his feet and regarded his enemy curiously. “No,” he said, as if in soliloquy, “it isn’t worth it.” “What isn’t worth what?” the other demanded with swift suspicion. “Beating you up,” was the cool answer. “I could kill you with my hands in five minutes. You’re no Wolf. You’re just mere yellow dog, the part of you that isn’t plain skunk. They told me to expect this of you; but I didn’t believe, and I came to see. They were right. You were all that they said. Well, I must get along out of this. It smells like a den of foxes. It stinks.” He paused with his hand on the door knob and looked back. He had not succeeded in making Regan lose his temper. “And what are you going to do about it?” the latter jeered. “If you’ll permit me to get my broker on your ‘phone maybe you’ll learn,” Francis replied.