Dodgeville chronicle. [volume] (Dodgeville, Wis.) 1862-current, 1873-10-17

to shape themselves into an expression OF
friendly and confidential interest.
Paul thought of Madeline and their
boy, and Of the specter on the street
| "He doesn't know our house is bank
rupt yet" he almost said aloud "But he
will before night. He won't want any
thing more of me then"
The old banker asked several questions
about his daughter, his grandson, the
news, and other matters, before he or Paul
became fairly accustomed to the situation,
and then he broke out suddenly with:
''Paul, my dear boy, know can trust
your honor. I'll say that for you, any
| how; but isn't there something can do
| for you? Within the bounds of reason
now; but what shall it be? These are
awful times for us all, my boy"
| Paul Berrian knew he was not dream
| ing, for at that moment the train drew up
with bigger bump than usual at the Jer-
sey ferry stopping place; but if it had not
been for that he would have tried to turn
over in bed and see if the baby were all
right. STILL as he caught up his overcoat
and umbrella, he managed to'find words
| for the first idea that came to his confused
| brains
'I don't know, just at this moment, un-
less you will buy me thousand shares of
Harlem at these panic prices, and hold it
for the rise that is dead certain to come"
'Tip top! A right down good business
operation!" jerked out the old gentleman.
'I'll do it for you, first thing, when | get
on the street. Come around in an hour
or so and see me about it,"
"No margins, you know" replied his
half-dazed son-in-law, as they hurried to-
| ward the ferry
"Of course not; but NUNS the word,
understands" said the banker, and in
another moment d halfdozen of his
brother-fnanciers had seized upon him,
and Paul Berrian was left to his own
devices.
Deeper and damper settled the rainy
gloom of the panic Friday, and the faces
Paul met On arriving at the Office of his
employers were all in keeping with the
weather, while crowds of gloomy men
hurried to and fro through the muddy
streets, hunted hither and thither by the
omnipresent specter of bankruptcy. Paul
had duties to attend to, plenty of them,
and it was good while before he could
manage to get away for even the moment
oftime required for a run to his father-in-
laws spacious and elegant establishment.
| Near as it was, however, it was the first
|
many long day. A feeling of doubt and
he thought of Madeline and his boy, and
pushed bravely ON into the bankers
| private door.
The old gentleman was seated in close
conference with his partners, and he look
ed up for moment with a weary, worn,
troubled look on his face, that changed
| into a flush and q sickly smile as he rec
ognized Paul
"Is that you, my boy?" he said. "It's
all right. Can't stop to talk to you now,
but got it at ninety. Just the very bot
tom Of the market. It's above that now.
You're lucky dog, after all"
And, as the banker turned to his part
ners again, Paul Berrian turned toward
the door, but sudden impulse moved
him to say, with his hands on the knob
"Well, under the circumstances, you
know, | think I'd rather not hold on.
Suppose you sell out for me the first thing
to morrow morning, hit or miss"
"Right againw exclaimed the banker.
81 can make that safe for you. Your
firms failed, hasn't it? Of course. Well,
never mind; only don't bother me now.
Look in tomorrow"
And Paul returned to the gloomy coun-
| tenances in the gloomy office of his ruined
employers, half inclined to subject him
self to some trial test of human sanity.
The day wore slowly away, and Paul was
busy enough, but he made out, now and
then, to take a hurried look at the stock
| list 1t was an eminently satisfactory sort
of look TO him, if not to many others, if
he could have only assured himself that
the whole thing was not an hallucinatiOn.
| Somehow or other his thoughts never
once reverted to the crumpled bit of pa
per he had picked up in the car, that
morning, and when he saw Madeline that
evening he only told her how unusually
kind her father had been to him, without
saying anything about so strange a myth
as the thousand shares Of Harlem stock.
The next morning Paul Berrian started
for Wall street at his customary hour,
though there was likely to be but dull
days business at the office of the bank
rupt firm. Dull as was the look of mat
ters there, however, it was a good deal
after eleven o'clock before he could mus
ter courage to go over and make inquiries
about his wonderful purchase.
"Heard the news?" exclaimed his father
in-law, as he entered. '"The Union Trust
Company? The bottoms Out-now, sure
enough. Oh, that Harlem. Well, my
dear boy, l took care of you. Closed it
out for you the first thing. Got hundred
and ten. Twenty thousand net profit.
There's a certified check for it; you see |
looked out for you in the event of-you
know what; but NUNS the word yet for
there's no telling. Well, l will say you're
a lucky dog, and [ never saw a quicker
turn. Can't stop to talk with you now,
my boy; but you can't say | didn't do the
fair thing by you"
Paul took his check, and was standing,
in sort of grey stupor, looking at it,
when the old banker arose and went for
look at the recording telegraph instru-
ment that was clicking fiercely in the cor
ner.
"Hurrar he suddenly shouted, with
more power of lungs than Paul would
have given him credit for. "Hurra! The
Stock Exchange has closed! It's all right,
now, Paul, my boy All needed was
time, and this will give me all l want.
You understand me, though-mum's the
though know I can do that, and I'm
right down glad you've made so good
turn. Go home, and tell Madeline I'm
coming up to see her and the boy. It's
all right"
Paul was ready to believe him, for he
had fingered his check until he was sure
it was real. He did go home and tell
Madeline, and he hugged his boy to a
wonderful extent that night, but it was
not until several days afterward, as he sat
in the cars bound cityward, studying what
use he had best make OF his suddenly ac-
quired capital, that the thought came
burning into his mind,
What cOu1d there have been in that