“You were complaining of it the other day.  It was a theological seminary then.  Perhaps that is the name you know her by.”

“Not much theological seminary about her!” with a laugh.

“Well, there’s one thing that you can comfort yourself with, General; she sees no man but you.”

“Is that so?” inquired Mr. Belcher, eagerly.

“That is what everybody says.”

Mr. Belcher rolled this statement as a sweet morsel under his tongue.  She must be hiding her passion from him under an impression of its hopelessness!  Poor woman!  He would see her at the first opportunity.

“Toll,” said Mr. Belcher, after a moment of delicious reflection, “you’re a good fellow.”

“I think I’ve heard that remark before.”

“Yes, you’re a good fellow, and I’d like to do something for you.”

“You’ve done a great deal for me already, General.”

“Yes, and I’m going to do something more.”

“Will you put it in my hand or my hat?” inquired Talbot, jocularly.

“Toll, how much Crooked Valley stock have you?”

“A thousand shares.”

“What did you buy it for?”

“To help you.”

“What have you kept it for?”

“To help keep the General at the head of the management.”

“Turn about is fair play, isn’t it?”

“That’s the adage,” responded Talbot.

“Well, I’m going to put that stock up; do you understand?”

“How will you do it?”

“By saying I’ll do it.  I want it whispered along the line that the General is going to put that stock up within a week.  They’re all greedy.  They are all just like the rest of us.  They know it isn’t worth a continental copper, but they want a hand in the General’s speculations, and the General wants it understood that he would like to have them share in his profits.”

“I think I understand,” said Talbot.

“Toll, I’ve got another vision.  Hold on now!  I behold a man in the General’s confidence—­a reliable, business man—­who whispers to his friend that he heard the General say that he had all his plans laid for putting up the Crooked Valley stock within a week.  This friend whispers it to another friend.  No names are mentioned.  It goes from friend to friend.  It is whispered through every town along the line.  Everybody gets crazy over it, and everybody quietly sends in an order for stock.  In the meantime the General and his factor, yielding to the pressure—­melted before the public demand—­gently and tenderly unload!  The vision still unrolls.  Months later I behold the General buying back the stock at his own price, and with it maintaining his place in the management.  Have you followed me?”

“Yes, General, I’ve seen it all.  I comprehend it, and I shall unload with all the gentleness and tenderness possible.”

Then the whimsical scoundrel and his willing lieutenant laughed a long, heartless laugh.