"Par." "Shucks! Give you thirty." There was haggling and bickering until a price of sixty was agreed upon, and Mr. McCann's heart expanded with satisfaction. "Now, how many shares?" "Want control. Want fifty-one per cent, anyhow. Got 'em?" "Of course." This was not the fact, but Mr. McCann was not addicted to unnecessary facts. He knew where he could get the rest for less than 60. There would be an additional profit and additional credit coming to him. In cold reality, Crane & Keith owned some 40 per cent of the stock. "Take all you'll sell." "I can let you have fifteen hundred shares--for cash." This was an even 60 per cent, but McCann knew where he could get the other 20. "Come to the bank. Come now. Give you the cash." "I can't deliver but one thousand shares to-day, but I can give you the other five hundred to-morrow." "Suits me. Pay for 'em all to-day. Gimme what you got and a receipt for the rest. Comin' to the bank?" Mr. McCann put on his coat and hat and accompanied Scattergood to the bank, where he received a certified check for the full amount, gave Scattergood in return a thousand shares of stock, and a receipt which recited that Scattergood had paid for five hundred shares more, to be delivered within twenty-four hours. Scattergood went to see Mr. Linderman; McCann went out to round up five hundred shares of stock. By midnight he was a worried young man. The stock he had thought to pick up so readily was not to be had. Everybody seemed to have disposed of it and nobody seemed to know exactly who had been doing the buying, for the options had been taken in a number of names. Next morning McCann sought diligently until he found Scattergood. "I've been a bit delayed in the delivery of the rest of the stock," he told Scattergood, and there was cold moisture on his forehead. "Would you mind waiting until to-morrow?" "Guess I'll have to," said Scattergood. "G'-by. Better be movin' around spry. I want to git back home." That night McCann wired his employers to get back home as quickly as conveyances would carry them. They did so, and in no happy mood, for Lawyer Norton had remained immovable in his position. Young McCann told his tale hesitatingly. "Who did you say you sold to?" demanded Crane. "Fat man by the name of Baines." "Baines! He's busted. Hasn't a cent." "Paid cash." Crane looked at Keith and Keith looked at Crane. Just then the telephone rang. It was Scattergood. "Want to speak to Mr. Crane," he said. "Hello!" Crane said, gruffly. "What's this about your buying pulp company stock?" "Bought some. Bought a little. Called up to see why your young man wasn't deliverin'. Want to git home." "Where did you get the money?" "Have to know that? Have to know where it come from before you kin make delivery? Hain't inquisitive, be you?" Mr. Crane made use of language. "I want to see you--got to have a talk. Come right down here."