"Tell Simpson to write that I’ll give ten thousand if the town raises ten thousand more." "Very well, sir." "Has Mr. Brinley telephoned from Washington?" "Yes, sir. He says he is to take breakfast at the White House to-morrow." "What’s that? He was told to arrange it for to-day." "He was; but he said he’d got word from the——" "Never mind. To-morrow will do, if he only keeps his word this time. Wire him: ’Right; but positively no more postponements.’ Use the code signature and send from somewhere uptown,—Anything from Albany?" "Yes. Senator Scudder says to tell you that bill will be reported to-day and rushed through before evening." "Have Conover go up to the Astor and get Scudder on the ’phone and say that the bill must be passed before noon recess. The Governor will sign it immediately." "Yes, sir." "And Conover is not to mention names." "Of course not, sir." "Anything else?" "No—except somebody has been trying to get you on the long-distance wire from Hartford." "That’s Sparks.—Run over to the corner pay-station and call up the legislative building at Hartford. Get Sparks on the ’phone. Be sure it’s the right man you’re talking to. Tell him that the New York gentleman he wanted to speak to—just that: the New York gentleman he wanted to speak to—is out of town, but has telegraphed you to say to him it is all right for him to go ahead. Got that?" "Yes, sir." "Read it." The secretary read from his notes. "Now," said the business man, "get Mr. Rivington and Mr. Hallett on your own ’phone and ask them if they can find it convenient to come around here to see me for a half-hour. Tell me what they say, and then give me Atwood and the other brokers in the regular order." "Yes, sir." "And, Rollins——" "Yes, sir?" "When Mr. Hallett and Mr. Rivington arrive, we are not to be disturbed." The secretary went; the brokers were given their orders, and then came L. Bergen Rivington and George J. Hallett, the two men with whom this third man was now consulting. "About the Manhattan and Niagara——" began Rivington. He had a way of moving his hands nervously when he spoke, and he rarely completed a sentence. Hallett, who was the man in a white waistcoat, stopped chewing his cigar to ask: "What are they kickin’ about? We own seventy-five per cent. of the preferred and sixty of the common." "And it is too much, I think," said Rivington. "We need it only to keep from unsettling the N. Y. & N. J. interests, because—— Fifty-five of the preferred and fifty-two of the common, perhaps, but seventy-five and sixty——" "And, now," chimed Hallett, "this little fellow—what’s his name?—the president. Oh, yes: Dohan, that’s it—starts out to launch a new stock-issue to bridge the river five miles from town and come into New York, an’ all without as much as sayin’ ’If you please’ to us! We ought to wreck his damned picayune road for him; that’s what we ought to do."