The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1916-04-21

self working in the shadow of the cop per trust, and it's silent influence over came his strongest arguments. No one, it seemed, cared to risk even a semblance of rivalry with that mon strous aggregation of capital, for the inter1acing of financial interests was amazingly intricate, and financiers were fearful of the least misstep. Everywhere O'Nei1 encountered the same disheartening tinfdity. His bat tie, 1t seemed, had been lost before it was begun.
 Days passed in fruit1ess endeavors. Evenings found O'Neil In his corner of the hotel cafe racking his brain for some way out of his perp1exities Usu ally he was surrounded by friends, for he continued to entertain<in the lavish fashion for whieh he had gained a rep utation, but sometimes he was alone, and then his solitude became more oppressive than it had ever been even in the farthest wastes of the north land. He was made to feel his re- sponsibility with dreadful keenness, for lis associates were in a panic and boInbarCed him with daily in cuiries, yexatious and hard to answer.
 One evening as he ran through his mail he found letter in a woman's handwriting and, gfanctng at the sig nature, started. It was signed "Gloria Gordon Briefly 1t appraised him of her marriage and of her and. Natalie's return to Hope. Gloria thanked him perfunctorily for his many kindnesses, but she neither expressed nor implied an invitation for him to visit them. He smiled Little gri1nly. Already her loyalty had veered to Gordon's side, and Natalie no doubt shared her feel ing. Well, it was but natural per haps.
 He was aroused from his train of thought by stranger whom he found standing beside his table and looking down at him with wavering eye.
 t'Aisser O'Neil, ain't it?" the fellow inquired ''Surel Thought I knew you. I'm Bulker of the old North pass. Remember me2s
 MT. BuIker had been imbibing freely. He showed evidences of a protracted spree not only in his speech, but In the trembling hand which he extended His eyes were b1oodshot, and his good natured face was purple.
 O'Nei1 greeted him pleasantly, and, considering himself enthusiastically welcomed. the newcomer sat down suddenly as if some one had ripped him.
 Been washing you for ten minutes"
 Washing me2'
 '.No, washing you. Couldn't make you out; eyesight's getting bad. Too many bright lights in this town. Ha! Joke! Let's have gill.''
 Thank you, no.
 Must have a little dram for old times sake. You're the only one of the North pass crowd I'll drink with Mir Bu1ker gestured comprehensively at a group of walters, and Murray yielded. You were my friend, O'Neil. You always treated me right"
 What are you doing noww asked O'Nei1, with the interest he could not refuse to any one who had ever worked with him. He remembered the fellow perfectly. He had come on from the, east as auditor and had appeared to be capable, although somewhat given to drink
 fsTm a broker Wall streets my hab- fiat. Fine time to buy stocks, Misser O'Neil.' Bulker assumed an expres- sion of great wisdom. Like to have a tip? No? Good! You're a wise man. They fred me from the North Pass. Wha'd you know about that? Fired me for drinking! Greatest injustice I ever heard of, but I hit running like turkey. That. wasn't the reason they let me go, though. Not on your life.'' He winked portentously and, strangely enough, his eyeltd failed to resume it's normal position. It continued to droop, giving the appearance of waggish .leer. T knew too mushl Isn't healthy to know too mush, is it?n
 i've never had chance to find out,'' smiled Murray.
 "Oh, don't be an ingenue; you saw vted more than anybody on the job. I'll admit took nip now and then, but I never got pickled. Nsay. Who d'you spose I saw today? Old man Illisr'
 O'Neill became suddenly intent. He had been trying to get in touch with Poultney His for more than fort night, but his cables to London had brought no response.
 When did he arriye?''
 'Just 1atelV He's game old roost- CT, ain't he? Gee, he's sore!'
 Sore about what?'
 Bulker winked again, with the same lack of muscular control.
 About that North Pass deai, of course. He was blackmaiIed out of cold million. The agreement's about up now, and figure he's over here to renew it.''
 You're talking Creek" said O'Neil, but his eagerness was manifest.
 "I s'posed you knew. The North Pass has been paying blackmail to the Yukon steamboat companies for three years. When you built the line 1t prac- tically put 'en out of the Dawson mar ket, undsrstand?1 h-
 ''Of course.''