The tone of his voice struck Dan Burnett to the heart. It seemed to him as though someone were scourging his soul with a whip. He was Barney Creighton's greatest friend, so naturally what affected Barney affected him. Truly nothing is so rare as the strong, whole-hearted friendship of two men.
"I can't tell you much about Roger Patterson," was the reply. "All that I know is that he's a stock broker, the same as you yourself, but whereas you have money to back you up, he plays the game simply on his nerve. He lives from day to day on the extreme edge of hazard. Any hour may see his ruin. His offices in the Empire Building are magnificent, but his bank balance would make R. G. Dun & Co. sick. I frankly admit that to a certain degree, I admire the man's unutterable faith in himself. He bids apparently recklessly, working solely on a margin, and yet he always seems to get through somehow. At present he is trying to manipulate a big deal in Bleecker's Infused Steel stock. He's booming the market, although he knows the stock is practically worthless. Smith & Weston own about forty per cent of the capital stock and it is orally understood that they are willing to sell. You know they have gone over entirely to cotton stock and so of course are naturally willing to accept almost anything for their shares in Bleecker's Infused Steel, especially in view of the fact that they are practically worthless."
"Why?" demanded Barney Creighton curtly.
"For a dozen reasons. In the first place, Bleecker's capital is practically wiped out. There is scarcely any
