He hurried to consult with those who, finding themselves in a similar predicament with himself, might use their influence to bring it about. It was a sharp trick to play on those who, now finding the market favorable to their designs in its falling condition, were harvesting a fortune. But what was that to him? Business was business. There was no use selling at ruinous figures, and he gave his lieutenants orders to stop. Unless the bankers favored him heavily, or the stock exchange was closed, or Stener could be induced to deposit an additional three hundred thousand with him at once, he was ruined. He hurried down the street to various bankers and brokers suggesting that they do this—close the exchange. At a few minutes before twelve o’clock he drove rapidly to the station to meet Stener; but to his great disappointment the latter did not arrive. It looked as though he had missed his train. Cowperwood sensed something, some trick; and decided to go to the city hall and also to Stener’s house. Perhaps he had returned and was trying to avoid him. Not finding him at his office, he drove direct to his house. Here he was not surprised to meet Stener just coming out, looking very pale and distraught. At the sight of Cowperwood he actually blanched. “Why, hello, Frank,” he exclaimed, sheepishly, “where do you come from?” “What’s up, George?” asked Cowperwood. “I thought you were coming into Broad Street.” “So I was,” returned Stener, foolishly, “but I thought I would get off at West Philadelphia and change my clothes. I’ve a lot of things to ’tend to yet this afternoon. I was coming in to see you.” After Cowperwood’s urgent telegram this was silly, but the young banker let it pass. “Jump in, George,” he said. “I have something very important to talk to you about. I told you in my telegram about the likelihood of a panic. It’s on. There isn’t a moment to lose. Stocks are way down, and most of my loans are being called. I want to know if you won’t let me have three hundred and fifty thousand dollars for a few days at four or five per cent. I’ll pay it all back to you. I need it very badly. If I don’t get it I’m likely to fail. You know what that means, George. It will tie up every dollar I have. Those street-car holdings of yours will be tied up with me. I won’t be able to let you realize on them, and that will put those loans of mine from the treasury in bad shape. You won’t be able to put the money back, and you know what that means. We’re in this thing together. I want to see you through safely, but I can’t do it without your help. I had to go to Butler last night to see about a loan of his, and I’m doing my best to get money from other sources. But I can’t see my way through on this, I’m afraid, unless you’re willing to help me.” Cowperwood paused. He wanted to put the whole case clearly and succinctly to him before he had a chance to refuse—to make him realize it as his own predicament.