“Nine, ten, eleven,—­yes,—­at eleven, to-morrow, I shall expect to receive the sum; otherwise I shall feel it my duty to send this letter by a trusty hand.  In fact, I suppose I have hardly done right in not putting the gentlemen on their guard before.”

A cold sweat covered Fletcher’s shivering limbs, and for a moment he stood irresolute; but recollecting Bullion, he rallied himself, and, assenting to the proposition, bade Sandford good-bye; then, as the only revenge practicable, he cursed him with the heartiest emphasis, when his back was turned.  Presently Tonsor came with the news of Kerbstone’s failure.

“The street is full of rumors,” he said;—­“Bullion is a large owner in the Neversink.”

“Bosh!” said Fletcher,—­“Bullion is in there for fifty thousand, to be sure; but what is that?  He has other property enough,—­half a million, at least.”

“Still, a pebble brought down Goliath.  A house in New York, worth a million, failed yesterday for want of twenty-five thousand.”

“Don’t you be alarmed.  Bullion knows.  He isn’t going to fail.”

“I want to get ten thousand from him to take some shares I bought for him.”

“How soon?”

“Now; and he is not at his office.”

“I’ll get you the money from our house.  I haven’t deposited the funds for to-day yet, and I’ll put in a memorandum which Bullion will make good.”

“Hadn’t you better wait?”

“No; it doesn’t matter.  He’s all right; and it isn’t best to break his orders for any ten thousand dollars.”

Fletcher handed the money to the broker, and, as bank-hours were then about over, he put his papers in order and went home.

“Lovey!” he exclaimed, upon meeting his wife, “I have been thinking over what you said about getting my notes cashed.  I believe I’ll take Bullion’s offer and salt the money down.  Probably, now, he will give me a better trade, for there is considerable more due.”

“Oh, John! how glad I am!  You will do it to-morrow,—­won’t you, now?”

“Yes, I’ll settle with him to-morrow.”

He was thinking of the fact that Tonsor had bought shares for Bullion, and he wondered what the move meant.  A house divided against itself could not stand; and he said to himself, that a man must be uncommonly deep to be a “bull” and a “bear” at the same time.  There was no doubt that Bullion had embarked in some speculation which he had not seen fit to make known to his agent.

“There you go,—­off into one of your fogs again!” said the wife, noticing his suddenly abstracted air.  “That’s the way you have done for the last three months,—­ever since you began with that hateful man.”

“I get to thinking about affairs, my little woman, and I don’t want to bother your simple head with them; so I go cruising off in the fog, as you call it, by myself.”

“Oh, if you once get through with that man’s affairs, we’ll have no more fogs!”