"Ah, but it's tame, tame, tame! I must have excitement. Theatres are played out, horses are played out, and suppers raise the devil with me." "Then take it easy. Don't risk so much. You used to do this sort of thing well--used to do it right every time. You got up a good deal of reputation for foresight and skill." "I know, and every man ruined in the International Mail will curse me. I led them into it. I shall have a sweet time in Wall street when I go there again. But it's like brandy; a man wants a larger dose every time, and I shall clean them out yet." Talbot's policy was to make the General last. He wanted to advise him for his good, because his principal's permanent prosperity was the basis of his own. He saw that he was getting beyond control, and, under an exterior of compliance and complaisance, he was genuinely alarmed. "Toll," said Mr. Belcher, "you are a good fellow." "Thank you, General," said the factor, a smile spreading around his shining teeth. "My wife will be glad to know it." "By the way--speaking of your wife--have you seen anything of Mrs. Dillingham lately?" "Nothing. She is commonly supposed to be absorbed by the General." "Common Supposition is a greater fool than I wish it were." "That won't do, General. There never was a more evident case of killing at first sight than that." "Well, Toll, I believe the woman is fond of me, but she has a queer way of showing it. I think she has changed. It seems so to me, but she's a devilish fine creature. Ah, my heart! my heart! Toll." "You were complaining of it the other day. It was a theological seminary then. Perhaps that is the name you know her by." "Not much theological seminary about her!" with a laugh. "Well, there's one thing that you can comfort yourself with, General; she sees no man but you." "Is that so?" inquired Mr. Belcher, eagerly. "That is what everybody says." Mr. Belcher rolled this statement as a sweet morsel under his tongue. She must be hiding her passion from him under an impression of its hopelessness! Poor woman! He would see her at the first opportunity. "Toll," said Mr. Belcher, after a moment of delicious reflection, "you're a good fellow." "I think I've heard that remark before." "Yes, you're a good fellow, and I'd like to do something for you." "You've done a great deal for me already, General." "Yes, and I'm going to do something more." "Will you put it in my hand or my hat?" inquired Talbot, jocularly. "Toll, how much Crooked Valley stock have you?" "A thousand shares." "What did you buy it for?" "To help you." "What have you kept it for?" "To help keep the General at the head of the management." "Turn about is fair play, isn't it?" "That's the adage," responded Talbot. "Well, I'm going to put that stock up; do you understand?" "How will you do it?"