"Give them away at once if they are not fully paid up." "Only a pound a share on call," said Mr Caley. "What would you do?" "Sell them at once for anything they would fetch; but there would be no buyers." "Thank you," said Mr Caley. "You hear, Major Gurdon? I quite endorse my partner's views." "But they may recover," said the Major piteously. Mr Caley shrugged his shoulders. "Things could not look worse, sir; but as you cannot lose much more, and the call that will follow will not be heavy, you might speculate a little and hold on." "But I cannot afford to pay the call, gentlemen," cried the Major. "It is ruin to me." "Then sell, sir," said Mr Bland, "and get what you can out of the fire." "Sell? When?" "At once, sir." "I--I think I will see the gentleman first through whom I bought them." "As you will, sir, but time is money," said Mr Bland. "We might be able to place them to-day, as I hear rumours of some one buying up a few. In a couple of hours' time it may be too late." "But surely, gentlemen, they will be saleable at some price?" cried the Major. The partners shook their heads. And in a fit of desperation, the Major decided to sell, and was shown into a room, to wait while the preliminary business went on, Mr Caley himself going out to dispose of the shares. Hours passed, during which the Major sat vainly trying to compose himself to read the papers on the table, but they seemed to be full of nothing else save adverse money market news; and at last he could do nothing but pace the room. The door opened at last and the stockbroker entered, followed by his partner. "I have done the best I could for you, sir," said Mr Caley. "Here is an open cheque, which I would advise you to cash at once. There will be the necessary signature required by-and-by for the transference of the shares to the buyer, but that will occupy some days. Shall we send and get the cheque cashed?" "Yes," said the Major, as he caught up a pen, and glanced at the amount and signature. "Not a tenth of what I paid for them. Humph, `R. Wrigley.'" "Yes, sir, a gentleman who has bought two or three lots, I believe.-- Thank you." The Major threw himself back in his chair, and waited while the cheque was cashed, and then, shaking hands with his brokers, he took a cab and ordered the man to drive to Guildford Street. "I hope we have given him good advice, Bland." "The best we could give. It was a chance of chances to get rid of them at all." "Let me see: that scheme was floated by old Grantham Reed, wasn't it?" "Yes, and he did very wisely in dying and getting out of the way. What a vast amount of money has been thrown down mines." Yes: Mr Clive Reed was in, and the Major entered, and felt a little staggered at the solid, wealthy look of his prospective son-in-law's house, as he was shown into the library, where Clive was busy writing. "Ah, Major," he cried, "then you had my telegram?" "Your telegram, sir, no."