He stared pityingly at the speaker a moment, then cruelly said: 

“You know they quit putting perfumery on their clothes right after the Chicago fire.”

He left the room with faultless dignity.

“Impertinent young whelp!” spluttered the oldest director; but his first fellow-director who dared to look at him saw that he was gazing pensively from the high window, his back to the group.

“No good,” said the quiet director to the largest.  “A little man’s always the hardest to bluff.  Bet I could bluff you quicker than you could bluff him!”

“Well, I didn’t know what else,” answered the largest director, who was already feeling bluffed.

“Why didn’t J.B. here assert himself then?”

“’Fraid he’d get mad’s ‘ell an’ quit me,” said Breede.  “Only st’nogfer ever found gimme minute’s peace.  Dunno why—­talk aw ri’.  He un’stan’s me; res’ drive me ’sane.”

“Plug’s pulled, anyway,” commented the quiet director.  “Only thing to do is haul in what we can on a rising market.  God knows where she’ll stop.”

“Pound her down,” said the largest director sagely.

“Any pounding now will pound her up.”

“Hold off and let it die down.”

“Only make it worse.  No use; we’ve got to cut that money up.”

“Seven hundred shares, did he say?” asked the large director.  “Very pretty indeed!  J.B., I’ll only give you one guess whether he quits his job or not.”

“Thasso!” admitted Breede dejectedly.

“He’ll show up all right in the morning, mark me,” said the largest director, regaining confidence.

“Sneaking snake in the grass,” muttered the oldest director, yet without his wonted vim.

“I’ll telephone to McCurdy, right in the next block here,” continued the largest director.  “Might as well have this chap watched to-night and keep tight to him to-morrow until he shows up.  We may find somebody’s behind him.”

“’S my idea,” said Breede, “some one b’ind him.”

“Grinning little ape!” remarked the oldest director bitterly.

To Bean in the outer office came the facetious boy.

“Telephone for Perfesser Bunker Hill Monument,” he said, but spoiled it by laughing himself.  It was extempore and had caught him unawares.  The harried Bean fled to the telephone booth.

“I wanted to tell you,” began the flapper, “not to eat anything out of cans unless I just perfectly have it on my pure-food list.  They poison people, but the dearest grocer gave me a list of all the safe things, made up by a regular committee that tells how much poison each thing has in it, so you can know right off, or alcohol either.  Now, remember!  Oh, yes, what was I going to say?  Granny says the first glamour soon fades, but after that you just perfectly settle down to solid companionship.  And oh, yes, I want you to let me just perfectly have my own way about those hangings for the drawing-room, because you see I know, and, oh, I had something else.  No matter.  Won’t I be glad when the deal is adjusted in the interests of all concerned, as poor old Pops says.  Why don’t you tell me something?  I’m just perfectly waiting to hear.”