But they didn't. They continued to subside. When they had subsided to 1/2 I woke up. My dream of financial glory was over. I had lost my money and my faith in the City; well, let them go. With an effort I washed Jaguars out of my mind. Henceforward they were nothing to me. And then, months after, Andrew came on the scene. At lunch one day he happened to mention that he had been talking to his broker. "Do you often talk to your broker?" I asked in admiration. It sounded so magnificent. "Often." "I haven't got a broker to talk to. When you next chat to yours, I wish you'd lead the conversation round to Jaguars and see what he says." "Why, have you got some?" "Yes, but they're no good. Have a cigarette, won't you?" Next morning to my amazement I got a telegram from Andrew. "Can get you ten shillings for Jaguars. Wire if you will sell, and how many." It was really a shock to me. When I had asked Andrew to mention Jaguars to his broker it was solely in the hope of hearing some humorous City comment on their futility--one of those crisp jests for which the Stock Exchange is famous. I had no idea that his broker might like to buy them from me. I wired back: "Sell fifty, quick." Next day he told me he had sold them. "That's all right," I said cheerfully; "they're his. He can watch them go up and down. When do I get my twenty-five pounds?" To save twenty-five pounds from the wreck was wonderful. "Not for a month; and, of course, you don't deliver the shares till then." "What do you mean, 'deliver the shares'?" I asked in alarm. "I haven't got the gold-mine here; it's in Africa or somewhere. Must I go out and----" "But you've got a certificate for them." My heart sank. "Have I?" I whispered. "Good Lord, I wonder where it is." I went home and looked. I looked for two days; I searched drawers and desks and letter-books and safes and ice-tanks and trouser-presses--every place in which a certificate might hide. It was no good. I went back to Andrew. I was calm. "About these Jaguars," I said casually. "I don't quite understand my position. What have I promised to do? And can they put me in prison if I don't do it?" "You've promised to sell fifty Jaguars to a man called Stevens by the middle of next month. That's all." "I see," I said, and I went home again. And I suppose you see too. I've got to sell fifty Jaguars to a man called Stevens by the middle of next month. Although I really have fifty fully matured ones of my own, there's nothing to prove it, and they are so suspicious in the City that they will never take my bare word. So I shall have to buy fifty new Jaguars for this man called Stevens--and buy them by the middle of next month.