“There goes my breakfast, and the cigar, too. Well, what of it? ’Tisn’t the first time you’ve fasted, my boy, and may not be the last. Good for the digestion, don’t you know. Besides, you’re invited to dinner at the Sherman House with Aleck, and a sharp appetite will give you more of a chance to enjoy the good things of life. It’s brought relief to one small heart, anyway. Now, I might as well return to my chair and settle this question of a million. If I’ve won I can lay back and imagine a royal banquet fit for the gods.” Presently he is scanning the reports. “What’s this? Unexpected advance in Golconda mining stock--I was deep in that. Decline of Reading. I skipped that, glad to say. How about the Consolidated on which I spread? I can hardly see for excitement. What’s that, advanced two cents? Hurrah! and I only hoped for one. Sell out, sell out, don’t hold anything a minute later. I’ve gone and done it. Yes, sir, as sure as fate, I’m a _millionaire_. No thirteen dollars this time; all previous losses wiped out and something like a million to my credit. Think of it, a _cool_ million, too. Champagne--no, that wouldn’t do on an empty stomach. I’ll hie away to Kinsey’s, and scan his bill of fare. This settles it. I’m cut out for a broker. The whole secret is to stand by your colors long enough, and success is certain.” Someone grasps his foot, and looking down he sees the bootblack commencing operations. “Hold on there, boy! just gave the last fifteen cents I had to a little girl who lost her money. You’ll have to trust me or take this paper in pay.” The boy grins and says the paper will do him, so Wycherley makes some notes from it. “Haven’t time to figure, now. May be a difference of a hundred thousand or so either way, but _that_ doesn’t matter. There’s that woman’s face before my mind again. Where have I seen her? Stupid in me to forget asking her name when I gave mine. Well, let it pass--a memory like many others in a checkered career. Ah! done, boy? Thanks. I’ll leave you the paper and call again.” It is just twelve when Wycherley turns up at the hotel, and finds Aleck awaiting him. No one would think the jolly actor had not eaten a bite since the previous night. He has great command over his system, and although the aroma of the soup almost overcomes him he restrains his fierce ardor. Above all it is his aim to act the gentleman. “I see you’ve been up to your old tricks again, Claude,” says the Canadian kindly, as he looks into the face of the adventurer. “What d’ye mean, my dear boy. Surely four o’clock was too late for a morning paper.” “I had the whole thing from the lips of a party who was an eye-witness--who heard you give your name to the poor woman you rescued.” “The deuce you say. I hoped it wouldn’t get out.” “And I’m proud to know you, to be your friend, Claude Wycherley. More than that, you builded better than you knew, comrade.” “How now, Aleck?”