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Parker faded out of the room in the ensuing silence, during which Francis Morgan buried himself in the Panama column and learned that the canal was not expected to be open for traffic for three weeks to come.

A telephone buzzed, and, through the electric nerves of a consummate civilization, Destiny made the first out-reach of its tentacles and contacted with Francis Morgan in the library of the mansion his father had builded on Eiverside Drive.

‘But my dear Mrs. Carruthers,’ was his protest into the transmitter. ‘Whatever it is, it is a mere local flurry. Tampico Petroleum is all right. It is not a gambling proposition. It is legitimate investment. Stay with. Tie to it… Some Minnesota farmer’s come to town and is trying to buy a block or two because it looks as solid as it really is… What if it is up two points? Don’t sell. Tampico Petroleum is not a lottery or a roulette proposition. It’s bona fide industry. I wish it hadn’t been so almighty big or I’d have financed it all myself… Listen, please, it’s not a flyer. Our present contracts for tanks is over a million. Our railroad and our three pipe-lines are costing more than five millions. Why, we’ve a hundred millions in producing wells right now, and our problem is to get it down country to the oil-steamers. This is the sober investment time. A year from now, or two years, and your shares will make government bonds look like something the cat brought in…

‘Yes, yes, please. Never mind how the market goes. Also, please, I didn’t advise you to go in in the first place. I never advised a friend to that. But now that they are in, stick. It’s as solid as the Bank of England… Yes, Dicky and I divided the spoils last night. Lovely party, though Dicky’s got too much temperament for bridge… Yes, bull luck… Ha! Ha! My temperament? Ha! Ha!.. Yes?… Tell Harry I’m off and away for a couple of weeks… Fishing, troutlets, you know, the springtime and the streams, the rise of sap, the budding and the blossoming and all the rest… Yes, good-bye, and hold on to Tampico Petroleum. If it goes down, after that Minnesota farmer’s bulled it, buy a little more. I’m going to. It’s finding money… Yes… Yes, surely… It’s too good to dare sell on a flyer now, because it mayn’t ever again go down… Of course I know what I’m talking about. I’ve just had eight hours’ sleep, and haven’t had a drink… Yes, yes… Good-bye.’

He pulled the ticker tape into the comfort of his chair and languidly ran over it, noting with mildly growing interest the message it conveyed.

Parker returned with several slender rods, each a glittering gem of artisanship and art. Francis was out of his chair, ticker flung aside and forgotten as with the exultant joy of a boy he examined the toys and, one after another, began trying them, switching them through the air till they made shrill whip-like noises, moving them gently with prudence and precision under the lofty ceiling as he made believe to cast across the floor into some unseen pool of trout-lurking mystery.