The Arizona copper camp., 1920-03-27

door behind him. He removed his
coat, hung it on a hook, placed his
hat on the table and his gloves upon
the hat then settled himself in the
chair and rested his feet on the steam
radiator. He lighted a cigar, exhaled
a swirl of fragrant smoke, and took
a magazine from pile on the table.
He had barely read the table of con-
tents, however, before there was
tap at the corridor door, and he ad-
mitted messenger-boy, who handed
him an envelope and departed. Upon
reading the dispatch he tore the paper
to small bits and hurried into the ad-
joining room, throwing off his vest
and loosening his tie and collar as
he ran.
In ten minutes he reappeared. He was
completely metamorphosed. Instead
of the smart morning coat, he now
wore long tan "duster;;" :" instead of
the stylish derby hat, he wore broad
brimmed yellow one; and he wore
soft flannel shirt with attached col
lar, and rough trousers and dusty
shoes. Under one arm he carried a
horsewhip. In fine, he was a typical
rancher, just arrived in Chicago with
load of cattle and a big wallet for
the thousand-dOllar bills. Even his
beard was magicaIy changed: it was
tousfed and all askew, and against
the "sunburn" on his face appeared to
be that of man sadly in need of a
shave rather than of one recently
barbered.
A few minutes later he entered the
customers room" of Quigg & Peevy.
Free and easily, as befitted one of
untrammeled life, he strobe across the
floor toward Quigg's private Office,
with great, awkward movements of
his long body, Ticking his whip
against his thick trousers and putting
like a tugboat at his evil cigar.
Ostensibly, Quigg & Peevy were
brokers. In reality they were swim
dlers. A superficial observer, visiting
their offices, would have supposed
their customers to be La Sale street
spectators. A rigid investigator
would have discovered their only
patrons were victims of the get-rich-
quick fever. The chief business of
Quigg & Peevy was the selling of
worthless stock. The rows of chairs
in the customers room'' and their oc-
cupants, the rushing messenger boys,
the long blackboard and the phleg-
matte youth chalking cabalistic fig
ures, the chattering telegraph instru-
ment, operated automatically not
twenty feet away, were nothing more
than stage properties and players, en-
ployed for the sole benefit of the suck
ers who made them possible.
And upon this opera bouffe stage of
sham and hypocrisy strutted Daniel
Fitzhugh, dreamer and actor. His
roles were many and varied, but he
portrayed them all with unerring ac-
curacy-and, yes, even art. When he
was informed that it was time for an
other entrance" he never knew, until
the messenger came with directions,
what part he would be called upon tod
enact. Now it was that of a West
ern millionaire, bluff, ungrammatical,
breezy; again that Of a French finan-
cier, suaye, polite, tangling his Eng
lish; anon 1t was some great banker
from Liverpool, frigid and precise.
But the character he most often por-
trayed was the Eastern capitalist"
Peevy was a thin, pale man, Of a
dropping eye and pointed chin, and
was deeply attached to a small briar
pipe. His business was to 'round up
the boobs and steer 'em in." Quigg,
aided by Fitzhugh, did the rest.
After the second week Fitzhugh be-
gan to conceive a Sinking dislike for
the knavery he was abetting. After
the third he began to hate it. Capa-
bilities were stirring within him
capabilities which told him he was
worth infinitely more than one hun
dred dollars week, and that every
week he worked for that sum he was
throwing away money. 1t was near
the end of the first month that he
asked his slippery employer for hun
dred-dollar weekly increase. He was
a little surprised when it was prompt
ly granted him.
II was thinking about increasing
your pay, Fitz," said Quigg, in his
large, careless way. you're worth
two hundred a week to me-"
But when three weeks later the
CRATER was told it was four hundred
dollars week or nothing, he frowned,
pinched the pink roll of flesh under
his chin with his chubby fingers, and
rocked himself gently in his swivel
chair. "Tll tell you what, F'itz. I'm
about to tackle the biggest thing I've
ever attempted. I'm launching upon
the grandest little mail-order scheme
in America. 1 expect to spend cou-
pie O hundred thousands in advertis-
ing. If it goes through, as I certainly
think it WILL I'll do the level thing by
you"
''That's not the point" broke in the
petitioner. "Do I or do not get my
four hundred-now?"