TIBERIUS SMITH
ing as Dame Fortune took her cue from my patron. But Henry stood aloof with lack-lustre eyes and mechanically pulled the ears of his meagre winnings.
"‘He's had enough,' chuckled Tib, and he turned to gloat over the chief, who now waded in and banged the wrong side of the market for a dozen parrots. 'Wish you could draw the replica of a bean. Henry is a millionaire in beans and we'd sting him to an empty vine.'
"‘Better stick to industrials and let bread-stuffs alone,' I warned.
"‘Maybe, but I love to annoy him, it makes him look so sad. Now, gentlemen—b-r-r-r! Click! click! Dry Lizard at four. Parrot Limited at three. B-r-r-r! Correction: Make Dry Lizard read five, with … Tweedledee now pitching for the Giants. Whew, Billy, but this is a nerve-racking game! Wonder why Henry was chinning with those two bears so long.'
"‘He's about to cut up didoes,' I murmured, over his shoulder. For really, sir, while J. W. G. was spectacular and could agitate his fat figure in true Monaco form, when compared with his silent and ingrowing brother he didn't shut out quite so much light as a silver three-cent piece. Instinctively, I knew Henry had it over him like a mile of blue sky.
"Tib, too, now scented danger and kept looking around for Wogo, who had strayed into the throng.
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