“Well, I led the conversation round to Wall Street and incidentally said I didn't know which was easier for a man, to be a fool or to make money in the stock-market. I, myself, I hastened to add, had always found folly extremely easy--but successful stock speculation infinitely easier. That, I may remark to you in passing, sir, is gospel truth.” “You are right,” agreed Richards, heartily. It did not behoove a stock-broker to point out the difficulty of making money in Wall Street. Moreover, Mr. Robison showed so quiet a confidence that Richards had lightning flashes of memory, and recollected every story he had ever heard about queer characters who had taken millions out of the Street. “This Mr. W. Bailey Jackson jeered and sneered, however, until I said I would bet him fifty dollars to fifty cents that I could double a sum of money in the Street in one week, in a reputable broker's office, operating on the New York Stock Exchange in a reputable and active stock--no bucket-shop, no mining-stock, and no pool manipulation. But I made this point: The trick was so easy that it was not interesting. I didn't wish to do it to make money, but if Mrs.--if my friend would accept the profits, I would prove that I knew what I was talking about; and, besides, would keep the children in candy for a month. And, of course, everybody laughed and urged her to consent--especially the Jackson person. In the end she gave in, doubtless thinking I'd win a few dollars--if I won at all. Also my offer was accepted in the presence and by the advice of men and women who could stop Mrs. Grundy's mouth.” “Very clever!” said Richards, with the enthusiasm of a man who sees commissions coming his way. “It was love that made me so ingenious,” explained. Mr. Robison, very simply. “I've got her written acceptance in my pocket as well as that damned W. Bailey Jackson's bet, duly witnessed by the two gossipiest women there. And in this envelope you will find instructions for your guidance in case of my sudden death. So I now wish to double the money.” He looked inquiringly at Richards, who thereupon felt the pangs of disappointment. Neither crank nor crook, decided the broker, but simply _Suckerius Americanus; genus_ D. F. Mr. Robison evidently was going to ask Richards & Tuttle to take the one hundred thousand dollars and double it for him, which meant that Mr. Richards would have to inform Mr. Robison that the firm was not in the miracle business; and that would make Mr. Robison go away mad. Total--no commissions! “Well,” Richards said, just a trifle coldly, “did you come to us to ask us to double your money for you?” “No, indeed,” answered Robison; “I came here to do it.” “When?” “In one week--or, rather, in five days and two hours.” “How are you going to do it?” The broker's curiosity was not feigned. “I propose to study the Menagerie.” Richards said nothing, but looked “Lunatic!”