Unseen by any of them the door has opened a trifle. Colonel Bob’s curiosity has been aroused by such singular happenings, and he is determined to see for himself what it means. He has some idea that John is connected with the business--that perhaps his father’s telegram was from the authorities or some friend in Denver, telling the sad facts of John’s downfall, and it behooves the sheriff, under these conditions, to keep a keen lookout lest the young man should give him the slip. After going to such trouble it is hardly his policy to let John escape, not if a dozen receptions have to be broken up. So Colonel Bob posts himself by the door to hear what is said, and his quick intuition tells him the true state of affairs. John has held back while Dorothy attempts to arouse her father, but at the mention of the word “ruin” he can restrain himself no longer. “What does this mean, father? I think that I have a right to know,” he says, bending over his despondent parent. Samson Cereal raises his eyes wearily. “Ah! it’s you, John. Yes, you are my son, and you have a right to know. The markets have been so infernally dull, with no business in the country, that in order to keep myself going I looked up some new sources of speculation, and had such wonderful faith in them that I went in deeper than I knew, it being my object to get the control of the company. Majority rules, and the minority can be frozen out. “Lately it has taken everything I can raise to meet my liabilities. I knew a crisis was at hand. One man remained to be bought. His name is Dickerson. He owns the controlling share. Nominally it is worth five hundred dollars. My agent has him cornered in St. Louis, and was instructed to offer him five thousand for his share. I have hoped he would not know that he held the balance of power. But the other parties are after him, and the keystone, without which my arch is useless, is placed far beyond my reach. Read that telegram--read it aloud, John.” The young man takes the message: “Dickerson offered forty thousand cash by the syndicate. Has under oath promised to deliver me his share, provided fifty thousand is telegraphed him by noon to-morrow, the fourteenth. Otherwise it is lost. Answer. “MAX.” “And at this time I could raise fifty million as easily as that many thousand. I’m tied hand and foot. If it could be done the control of a very rich property would be in my hands, but without it the syndicate will dictate terms, and I am ruined beyond all hope.” “But cheer up, father. Surely you do not need despair. You have weathered storms before,” says John cheerily.