Everyone agreed it was a difficult morning on the Stock Exchange, although for that matter a great many mornings during the past three weeks had been the same. The bottom had fallen out of innumerable cans. Persons with scarlet or greenish white faces were waving their hands and calling on the Deity to explain the collapse of cast iron securities. If there had been a threat of war things could hardly have been worse. The worst of it was that none of the big sellers seemed disposed to give their reasons for unloading. Mr. Hilbert Torrington, when asked why he had sold huge quantities of oil shares, courteously replied to all and various that he had no observations to make. The oil market, particularly that controlled by Hugo Van Diest, had slumped fifteen points in three days and the others had fallen sympathetically. And now, as though the oil collapse were not enough, appeared Ezra P. Hipps unloading Estuary Rails at a price that would hardly pay for printing the scrip. Ten days earlier the Estuary had looked like a cinch and Nugent Cassis, who had a reputation for sanity, had been buying it by the yard. Here was stock at nineteen shillings being offered at fivepence, and no rush to take it up even at that price. Everyone knew that Hipps was the moving spirit in the Estuary. His holdings were enormous. "In Heaven's name, man, what's the idea?" was shouted at him from every side. "I'm getting out," was the only answer he condescended. Nugent Cassis was beginning to lose his nerve as emphasised by the fact that he was continually winding his watch or pulling at his precise grey beard. His usual air of calm ill-humour had deserted him and, as Lord Almont laconically remarked, "Poor old Cassis is flapping in the wind." "Can't understand their motive," he repeated over and over again. "If they believe they've got Barraclough tucked safely away, what can they gain by this stock juggling?" "They are laying a false scent presumably," said Mr. Torrington. "They must be aware that we know about the kidnapping." "I imagine so. At any rate Cranbourne intends to put them wise." "Then where's the object?" "Our friend Frencham Altar has disappointed 'em perhaps, so they turn their attentions once more to our humble selves." "Makes me almost wish we'd left the whole thing alone. Seventy thousand pounds in three weeks. Appalling! Appalling!" "But consider how we shall be requited when Barraclough turns up with the concession." "_If_ he turns up." "We shall know at eleven o'clock tonight." "That's purely hypothetical." "My dear Cassis, the world is made up of hypotheses--dreams that sometimes come true. What are you doing with your holdings in Estuary?" "I'm selling." The old man's eyes blazed. "On the contrary, my friend. This is a fight and we fight to a finish, please. By your leave we do not take the count until tomorrow morning." "I'm not made of money," Cassis complained.