I turned to the 'phone once more. “Buy all you can get,” I ordered. “Keep on bidding. But be sure and spread the news that it is Colton buying to secure control of the road, not to cover his shorts. Be sure that leaks out. Everything depends on that.” I hung up the receiver. She and I looked at each other. “What will happen, do you think?” she asked. “God knows! . . . Are you going? Don't go!” “I must,” gently. “Father is worse, I fear, and I must not leave him. Doctor Quimby says the next few hours may tell us whether he is--is--whether he is to be with us or not. I must go. Be brave. I trust you. Be brave, for--for I am trying so hard to be.” I seized her hand. She drew it from my grasp and hastened away. Brave! Well, for her sake, I must be. Yet it was because of her that I was such a coward. As I recall all this now I wonder at myself. The whole thing seems too improbable to be true, yet true it was. I lost my identity that day, I think, and, as the telephone messages kept coming, and the situation became more and more desperate, became some one else, some one a great deal braver and cooler and more clear-sighted than ever I had been or shall be again. I seemed to see my course plainer every moment and to feel surer of myself and that my method--my bluff, if you like--was the only salvation. At eleven Louisville and Transcontinental was selling--the little that was sold--at four hundred and fifty dollars a share, on a par value of fifty. At eleven-thirty it had climbed another hundred. The whole Street was a Bedlam, so they 'phoned me, and the newspapers were issuing “panic” extras. “Tell Davis to stop buying now,” I ordered. “Let it be known that Colton has secured control and is satisfied.” At noon the figure was 700 bid and 800 asked. There was no trading at all, for the sufficient reason that no shares were to be had. Johnson came in to ask if he should bring my luncheon. I bade him clear out and let me alone. As he was tip-toeing away I called after him. “How is Mr. Colton?” I asked. “Very bad indeed, sir. Miss Mabel wished me to say that she could not leave him an instant. It is the crisis, the doctor thinks.” There were two crises then, one on each floor of the big house. At one Davis himself 'phoned. “Still hanging around 700,” he announced. “Begins to look as if the top had been reached. What shall I do now?” My plan was ready and I gave my orders as if I had been doing such things for years. “Sell, in small lots, at intervals,” I told him. “Then, if the price breaks, begin buying through another broker as cautiously as you can.” The answer was in a different tone; there was a new note, almost of hope, in it. “By the Lord, I believe you have got it!” he cried. “It may work. I'll report to you, Mr. Colton, right away.” Plainly he had no doubt that “Big Jim” was directing the fight in person. Far was it from me to undeceive him! Another interval. Then he reported a drop of a hundred points.