Chapter XIII: Fred Makes an Unbusiness-like Loan

The moment the old man entered the little office Fred sprang to his feet and confronted him. There was something in the wrinkled old face that told of a terrible state of mind.

"Mr. Bowles," said Fred, by way of breaking silence.

"Yes, I am Bowles. I have come to see you and get the truth out of you."

"Take a seat," and Bob pushed a chair toward him.

"I want to know who betrayed us in that Rock Island deal?" he asked Bob.

"No one betrayed you, Mr. Bowles. Fred saw Mr. Bryant buy the stock right along--all that offered--and so we decided that he was going to boom it. We bought 15,000 shares through Barron. That's all the betraying that was done."

"That's a lie! It won't do! I know better than that! Tell the truth, or I'll choke it out of you!" and he glared fiercely at Bob.

"Pitch in and do your choking before you forget it," Bob replied.

The irate old man made a grab at his throat. Bob dodged back, and they both fell to the floor, their chairs upsetting with quite a clatter. In an instant Fred grappled the old fellow's legs and dragged him from Bob. Bob sprang to his feet, seized an inkstand on the desk and dashed its contents all over the old broker's face and bosom. Some of it got into his eyes and blinded him.

Just then two brokers came in and separated them.

"Who is it, Halsey?" one of them asked.

"Mr. Bowles. He is away off his balance."

The two brokers laughed at the plight of the old man. His best friend could not have recognized him covered as he was with ink. As if ashamed of what he had done, Bowles scrambled to his feet, hurried out of the office and made a break for his own quarters. But his appearance on the street caused a sensation. Some boys saw him, and set up a series of yells that brought a crowd about him in less than half a minute. An officer ran up, looked hard at him for a moment or two and then collared him.

"That's all right, officer," the old man said. "Just a little accident, that's all."

"But you can't draw a crowd and obstruct the street this way," the officer replied. "Who are you?"

"I am Bowles, the broker. One of the oldest in the Street."

"What! Are you Mr. Bowles?"

"Yes; come to my office and see before more people gather."

The officer went along with him, and when they appeared in the office the clerks were almost panic-stricken, such a frightful-looking object was he. The officer remained long enough to make sure he really was the old broker and then left. In a little while the old man sent for a carriage and was driven home, where he changed his clothes and got rid of the ink stains on his face and hair. But the Street got hold of it, though Fred nor Bob would not say anything about it. Some said the old man heard they had a bag of wool hung up in their office and went in to fan them out. They fanned him out and kept his fleece.

Those who were in the Rock Island deal felt very sore over the way it had turned out, and it was a difficult matter for them to believe that some one in it had not betrayed them. But Halsey & Company had come up on top, and though but a couple of boys, the cunning old foxes of the Street saw that they would have to be reckoned with in the future. The weeks and months rolled on, and the gas machine was put on the market. Under the management of the young inventor the mechanical part of it worked without friction. Bob took charge of the office work, and soon had one thousand machines placed among the large consumers of gas, at a rental of from $5 to $10 a month each, producing an income of about $75,000 a year. Out of that sum they paid the young inventor $7,500 a year salary. One day Broker Tracey came in and begged Halsey & Company to sell him an interest in the gas machine, offering $50,000 cash for one-fourth interest in it.

"Not for $250,000," said Fred. "It is a gold mine, and we think we can work it by ourselves."

Tracey left, and soon after his departure Mrs. Bryant came in, accompanied by Eva Gaines. She asked to see Fred. He went to the ladies' room, and was received with smiles by both ladies.

"Mr. Halsey," said the broker's wife, "I want to borrow $10,000 for thirty days. I see a chance to make money, but have none to do it with. Will you let me have it?"

"What security have you to offer?" he asked her.

"None; only my jewelry remains unmortgaged," and her eyes filled with tears as she spoke.

"Do you want it for yourself or your husband?"

"For myself. He has lost every dollar he had."

"I am going to put that much into it, too," said Eva. "Let her have it for my sake, Mr. Halsey."

"Will you indorse her note?"

"Yes."

"Very well; I'll let you have the money, Mrs. Bryant," and he made out the note and they both signed it. He gave the broker's wife the money, and they left the bank together.