John could hardly have given them a better opportunity to tell him what they had been planning to tell him of their suspicions regarding Sponley and Curtin; but perhaps because each was waiting for the other, or because neither could think of the right words to introduce so delicate a subject, it was John, very red and uncomfortable over the compliment he had just paid Jack, who broke the silence. “Do you want to leave the bank at once?” “N-no,” said Jack. “If you’re willing to keep me, I’d like to stay until I can decide what to do next.” “Will Mr. Pickering’s failure hurt the bank?” Dick asked the question rather nervously. It was an approach to what she wished to say about Curtin. “Pickering hasn’t failed,” said John, in surprise; “what made you think he had?” Between them they told him what they had seen on the Board of Trade; but they said nothing--it seemed impossible to say anything--of their encounter with Curtin. “Pickering didn’t tell me what he meant to do,” said John, thoughtfully, “but I understood what the object of his move was. He’s in better shape than he was this morning. He busted the market himself, turned right around and sold to himself through other brokers.” “What did he want to do that for?” she asked. “Don’t you see?” said John; “he wants to buy all the lard there is. That puts the price up. Well, as soon as it was known that he was buying heavily, a lot of other fellows--some of them regular traders on the board, but more outsiders, who thought they saw a chance to get rich in ten minutes--came around and began to buy, too. Of course, as long as they’re buying, Pickering can’t get it all; so he busted the market, knocked the bottom right out of it, so as to shake out the little fellows who were getting in his way. He did it uncommon well, too. I don’t think I ever saw anything in provisions take a quicker tumble than lard did this afternoon. He must have caught a lot of small traders. He’s got more lard than ever, and he’s got the price hammered down, too, though that’ll get right back in a day or two. He may have to do the trick two or three times before they learn to leave him alone.” “I suppose, from his point of view, that’s all right,” said Jack. “To me, who’ve never got the idea of it, it seems very much like running a knife into another fellow’s back. The business disgusted me this afternoon, when I couldn’t understand it; and now that I do, it seems worse.” “I wonder how the little ones who were caught feel about it?” said Dick. “Oh, it’s all business,” answered the Banker, slowly. “They know, or at least they ought to know, just what chance they run. What Pickering did was what they might have expected him to do; there wasn’t anything irregular about it. Though I admit,” he went on, “that, personally, I don’t like the idea of it. I’m glad it isn’t my business.” “But do you think it’s honest?” she asked.