"Mr. Allison has been guyed unmercifully about his kids, Bob," Fred said, "and he has stood by us like a father. Let's give him $5,000 to-morrow as a token of our appreciation of him."

"I am willing," Bob replied. "The old man is our friend."

"Yes, indeed he is."

The next morning, when the old cashier came to the bank, he shook hands with both of the boys, saying:

"They made it pretty hot for me about my 'kids,' but I guess we have made it pretty uncomfortable for some of them."

"I think we have, too," Fred replied. "Here's our check to you for $5,000 for the way you have stood by us."

"The devil!" gasped the old man in dumfounded amazement. "Do you give me that?"

"Yes, of course."

He grasped their hands again.

"Boys," he said, choking with emotion, "I--I don't know what to say. G.o.d bless me, I don't!" and he jerked out his handkerchief and blew his nose a half dozen times.

"That's all right, Mr. Allison. We want you to grow up with us."

"Call me pop, boys--call me pop after this--as my other children do,"

and the old fellow had to wipe his eyes and his gla.s.ses.

It did the two boys good to watch him. They had touched his heart and the stern old man of business had softened like a woman. But others began to come in. The papers told how the two boys had squeezed some of the strongest men in the street and scooped several hundred thousand dollars of their money, and men who had seen them often before now came in to look at them again. But Fred and Bob were quite busy in their little private office engaged in figuring up the result of the deal, leaving Allison to answer questions and receive congratulations. Over in the Stock Exchange the syndicate was busy trying to save further losses. Bryant was on hand, but Bowles was in the hands of his physician.

"We were betrayed by somebody," Bryant said. "Those boys were posted by somebody in the deal and used as a blind."

"That is a serious charge to make, Bryant," said one of the syndicate, "and we'll have to make an investigation to find out if there is any truth in it. The charge reflects on us all."

"I have no idea who the guilty one is," Bryant replied. "I don't even know that the charge is true; but I believe that we were downed by a conspiracy in which one of the syndicate was engaged. Those boys are not deep enough to do what they did by their own account."

"You forget that Allison is in their employ," said the other.

"I don't think he had anything to do with it."

Just then Fred entered the Exchange in search of a broker he wanted to see.

Broker Tabor saw him, caught him by the arm and said:

"Here, Halsey, I want to ask you a question."

"Fire away," said Fred.

"How did you get on to that Rock Island deal?"

"Bryant gave it away."

"Eh! What!"

"Bryant gave the snap away," Fred repeated, and just then he saw the man he was in search of and went over to him.

Tabor returned to where Bryant and other members of the syndicate were standing and said:

"You were right, Bryant. One of the syndicate did give it away, and Halsey admits it."

"Ah! Did he name the scoundrel?" Bryant asked.

"Yes. I asked him how he got on to it, and he said 'Bryant gave it away.'"

Bryant gave a start as if stung and dashed across the room to where Fred was standing, grabbed him by the collar and hissed in his face:

"Did you say I gave the Rock Island deal away?"

"Yes, but you didn't mean to do it."

"What do you mean?"

Brokers crowded around them.

"On the very day you began buying I was standing near you, and heard you say, 'I'll take all I can get of that stock.' I knew then you were going to boom it, so I went off and loaded up for you. Mr. Barron bought the stock for you in less than thirty minutes after I heard you say that.

Did I get any of your fleece?"

Bryant hurled him from him and turned away.

CHAPTER XII.--Fred Makes a Discovery.

The great deal in Rock Island made the young bankers and speculators one of the best known firms in Wall Street. It was known that they had a vast sum of cold cash on hand, and that they had nerve and good judgment, and so scores of men came to them to buy and sell for them.

Gertie Clayton received about $36,000 for the tip she had given them, and she left it on deposit in the bank.

"Bob," she said to him a few days later, "I am not going to do any more typewriting. I was not made for the business, and never did like it."

"What are you going to do, then?" he asked.

"I'll tell you what I want to do," she replied, "I am engaged to a handsome young banker and we are to marry in two years. I think it is my duty to fit myself to be his wife by educating myself so he will be proud of me when we marry."

"By George, Gertie!" Bob exclaimed, "your head is level. Get out of Wall Street and I'll come uptown and spoon with you every evening. I'll make enough for us both."

"You dear, good Bob!" she said. "I knew you would look at it as I do.

You do not know how happy I am. I am going to study music and make myself an accomplished young lady so our home will not be a dull one."

She told Callie her reasons for giving up typewriting, and the latter said:

"You are right, Gertie. I would do so, too, were I so fortunate."

Just a few days later Eva Gaines came down with her uncle, the old broker, and was shown into the ladies' reception room with him. Fred and Bob received them with great consideration.

"You have been making, things lively in the Street," the old broker remarked to Fred.