Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1905-06-20
CHAPTER Nv.

II was past three o'clock In the
afternoon. The ticker in Trundell,
Croydon & Co.'s offices had clicked
and whirred its final quotations,
spelled goodnight" made a trial OF
its alphabet for morning uses and
stopped. The customers room with Its
light blue haze Of tobacco smoke
seemed to take on a different aspect
the moment the ticker ceased talking.
Just as the familiar surroundings
Of the ocean liner seem to change
as soon as the tireless screw stops
turning. The weil-dressed, cheer
full watcher of quotations tore
leaf from his pad, re-
marked to the nearest customer that
'the close looked mighty we'll for the
opening tomorrow, and passed into
the clerical department. Mr.. Croydon
emerged from his private room and
spoke few words to each customer,
whispering earnestly with one, looking
down on the floor or out Of the win
dow while another spoke to him, lis
tening with the air which Says, Go
on, old man! I'm drinking in every
word you say, but l don't want to let
the Others know how important
think it." But If the communication
lasted too long, Mr.. Croydon would
turn suddenly, place hand on the
speakers shoulder and say: by love.
think you're right! | want to talk
with you about that tomorrow" and
this would be accom- panied by look
which would send The customer on
convinced of having made a decided
impression upon Cornelius Croydon.
One by one the customers drifted
away until Mr.. Croydon was alone.
Then he lit a cigarette and moved to
the window, out of which he stared,
one foot on the cushioned window
seat, his elbow perched on his bent
knee and his chin resting on his hand
Mr.. Croydon never seemed to be
busy. But the customers who made
this observation were not to blame
for their error. The junior partners
work was done mainly after they left.
That the most important business OF
Wall street is transacted after the
ticker ceases Is something which GUS
toners never seem to grasp. Perhaps
II they did they might cease to be
customers.
Thus Mr.. Croyden. staring out OF
the window at the marble wall across
the narrow street. was merely taking
a short recess before beginning the
real work of the day.
Come along, Neil. He's here"
Croyden turned and saw Mr.. Trun-
dell standing at the threshold Of his
private Office, his hand on the door
knob. The junior partner tossed his
cigarette aside and entered the elder
mans room.
The personality Of the owner OF
this room was in entire harmony with
its general air Of luxury. Mr.. Richard
Trundell was man about so years
Of age, full-blooded and trifle port
ly. Had he not carried himself so well
and dressed with such care, nothing
could have saved him from being con-
sidered fat His face was typical Of
high living, and the little tell-talc
sacks under his eyes gave him sleepy
and sometimes heavy look.
But those who had seen the gen.
tleman clean-shaven never trusted him
implicitly or traded long on his sleepy
look. Without his mustache Mr.. Trun-
dell showed mouth as cruel and hard
as any ever seen in human face. 1t
was a large mouth with thin lips
drawn tightly across the teeth and cor
ners drooping-a sneering, sensual,
animal mouth, which laughter only
made savage and anger brutal. Every
feature of the mans face was in har-
mony with his mouth, but Mr.. Trun-
dell's lip was seldom shaved.
| Croydon, seeing NO visitor in the
room, looked inquiringly at his part
ner.
Mr.. Trundell settled himself before
the fire with his back to the blaze,