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Page 66
"Now then, _now_ then!" spluttered the old gentleman, the pen poised.
"Don't keep me waiting; don't keep me, I say! What amount? Wha'
_tamount_?"
Bean's eyes were withdrawn from the wall. He came briskly to life.
"I'll tell you in a moment. I'll get the shares."
"Shrimp!" said the old gentleman triumphantly, when Bean had gone.
"He told _me_," began Tully. But the advanced dresser wanted no more of
that.
"Shrimp!" he repeated.
Bean re�ntered with the certificates. The old gentleman glanced angrily
over them.
"Bean!" he exclaimed humorously. "Vegetable after all; not a fish! Funny
name that! Bunker Bean! Boston, by gad! Not bad that, I _say_! Come,
come, _come_! Want par, of course--all do! There y'are, boy!"
He blotted the check, tore it from the book and waved it toward Bean as
he turned to the director of the cigarette.
"About that proposition before us to-day, Mr. Chairman--" but Bean had
gone. Observing this, the old gentleman looked about him.
"Shrimp!" he said contemptuously, with the convinced air of an expert in
marine biology.
Bean, outside, once more addressed himself to typewriting. He wondered
if he should be seized with a toothache or a fainting spell. Toothache
was good, but perhaps Bulger had used that too often. Still Tully would
"fall" for a toothache. It gave him a chance to say that if people would
only go to a dentist once every three months--Then he remembered that
Tully was inside. He wouldn't make any excuse at all.
"Going out a few minutes," he explained to old Metzeger as he swiftly
changed from his office coat and adjusted the new straw hat.
Bulger glanced up from his machine, winked at him and shaped a word with
his able mouth. An adept in lip-reading could have seen it to be
"Chubbins." Bean in response leered confession at him.
The broker's office was in the adjoining block.
"I've just made a little deal," explained Bean to the person who
inquired his business. "Here's the check. You know I've got a sort of an
idea I'd like a little more of that Federal Express stuff. Just buy me
some the same as you did before, as much as you can get on ten margins,
er--I mean on ten points."
"Nothing much doing in that stock," suggested the expert. "Why don't you
get down on some the live ones. Now there's Union Pacific--"
"I know, but I want Federal Express. That is, you see, I want it merely
for a technical purpose." He felt happy at recalling Markham's phrase.
"All right," said the expert resignedly. "We'll do what we can. May take
three or four days."
Bean started for the door.
"Say," called the expert, as if on second thought, "you're up at
Breede's office, ain't you--old J.B.'s?"
"Oh, I'm there for a few days yet," said Bean.
"Ah, ha!" said the expert. "Have a cigar!"
Bean aimlessly accepted the proffer.
"Sit down and gas a while," urged the expert genially. "Things looking
up any over your way?"
"Oh, so-so, only," said Bean. "But I can't stop, thanks! Got to hurry
back to see a man."
"Drop in again any time," said the expert. "We try to make this little
den a home for our customers."
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