body governed by the strictest laws of political economy in guarding against over-population, by carrying out the Malthusian idea, in the habit the big ones have of eating the little ones.  But occasionally this harmonious family, which is animated by one of the most conspicuous traits of human nature—­to which we owe very much of our progress —­namely, the desire to get hold of everything within reach, and is such a useful object-lesson of the universal law of upward struggle that results in the survival of the fittest, this harmonious family is disturbed by the advent of a pickerel, which makes a raid, introduces confusion into all the calculations of the pool, roils the water, and drives the trout into their holes.

The presence in the pool of a slimy eel or a blundering bullhead or a lethargic sucker is bad enough, but the rush in of the pickerel is the advent of the devil himself.  Until he is got rid of, all the delicate machinery for the calculation of chances is hopelessly disturbed; and no one could tell what would become of the business of the country if there were not a considerable number of devoted men engaged in registering its fluctuations and the change of values, and willing to back their opinions by investing their own capital or, more often, the capital of others.

This somewhat mixed figure cannot be pursued further without losing its analogy, becoming fantastic, and violating natural law.  For it is matter of observation that in this arena the pickerel, if he succeeds in clearing out the pool, suddenly becomes a trout, and is respected as the biggest and most useful fish in the pond.

What is meant is simply that Murad Ault was fighting for position, and that for some reason, known to himself, Thomas Mavick stood in his way.  Mr. Mavick had never been under the necessity of making such a contest.  He stepped into a commanding position as the manager if not the owner of the great fortune of Rodney Henderson.  His position was undisputed, for the Street believed with the world in the magnitude of that fortune, though there were shrewd operators who said that Mavick had more chicane but not a tenth part of the ability of Rodney Henderson.  Mr. Ault had made the fortune the object of keen scrutiny, when his antagonism was aroused, and none knew better than he its assailable points.  Henderson had died suddenly in the midst of vast schemes which needed his genius to perfect.  Apparently the Mavick estate was second to only a few fortunes in the country.  Mr. Ault had set himself to find out whether this vast structure stood upon rock foundations.  The knowledge he acquired about it and his intentions he communicated to no one.  But the drift of his mind might be gathered from a remark he made to his wife one day, when some social allusion was made to Mavick:  “I’ll bring down that snob.”