TIBERIUS SMITH
was staked, and he began cantering about this focal stock in a saucy circle. Dear, dear! We couldn't see it coming. No one could. But, oh, it was waiting for us. As Tib gracefully waved the cage and allowed just a teasing bit of the bark tape to peep out, the half-naked gathering breathed deep and fiercely. None knew, or cared, how the quotations got into the cage, but each appreciated the arena would soon be dotted with the ruins of the unwise. And the chief was the biggest plunger of all, and his reckless demeanor in bulling Amalgamated made them scary. Yet some one was quietly covering all his offers, but who, we could not see.
"Then as the throng shook spear and fist and elbowed for room, my patron smiled wanly and began with Pig's Tooth, which dropped two points. Next came Lizard and Parrots, fluctuating just a wee bit, and no one as yet had made a big killing.
"‘Now, gentlemen, something tart in Amalgamated,' warned Tib, backing away a few steps and pausing to grin at me over his shoulder. Then indicating the fat, apoplectic chief, he lisped, 'Watch the crowd go down.' And he slowly fed out more of the fateful tape.
"Every gambler in the ring knew an hour ago a dog was worth eleven turtle-shells, and as this was the favorite stock, the next minute meant ruin or opulence and bone finery for many a humble hut.
216
