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第112章

How can we tell here? We--Hi! there they go again.

Lord! that must have been a smash.I guess the Board of Trade won't forget this day in a hurry.Heavens, you can't hear yourself think!

"Glad I ain't down there in the Pit."

But, at last, a group of policemen appeared.By main strength they shouldered their way to the top of the stairs, and then began pushing the crowd back.At every instant they shouted:

"Move on now, clear the stairway.No seats left!"But at this Page, who, by the rush of the crowd had been carried almost to the top of the stairs, managed to extricate an arm from the press, and hold Landry's card in the air.She even hazarded a little deception:

"I have a pass.Will you let me through, please?"Luckily one of the officers heard her.He bore down heavily with all the mass of his two hundred pounds and the majesty of the law he represented, to the rescue and succour of this very pretty girl.

"Let the lady through," he roared, forcing a passage with both elbows."Come right along, Miss.Stand back you, now.Can't you see the lady has a pass? Now then, Miss, and be quick about it, I can't keep 'em back forever."Jostled and hustled.her dress crumpled, her hat awry, Page made her way forward, till the officer caught her by the arm, and pulled her out of the press.With a long breath she gained the landing of the gallery.

The guide, an old fellow in a uniform of blue, with brass buttons and a visored cap, stood near by, and to him she presented Landry's card.

"Oh, yes, oh, yes," he shouted in her ear, after he had glanced it over."You were the party Mr.Court spoke about.You just came in time.I wouldn't 'a dared hold your seat a minute longer."He led her down the crowded aisle between rows of theatre chairs, all of which were occupied, to one vacant seat in the very front row.

"You can see everything, now," he cried, making a trumpet of his palm."You're Mister Jadwin's niece.Iknow, I know.Ah, it's a wild day, Miss.They ain't done much yet, and Mr.Jadwin's holding his own, just now.But I thought for a moment they had him on the run.You see that--my, my, there was a sharp rally.

But he's holding on strong yet."

Page took her seat, and leaning forward looked down into the Wheat Pit.

Once free of the crowd after leaving Page, Landry ran with all the swiftness of his long legs down the stair, and through the corridors till, all out of breath, he gained Gretry's private office.The other Pit traders for the house, some eight or ten men, were already assembled, and just as Landry entered by one door, the broker himself came in from the customers' room.

Jadwin was nowhere to be seen.

"What are the orders for to-day, sir?"

Gretry was very pale.Despite his long experience on the Board of Trade, Landry could see anxiety in every change of his expression, in every motion of his hands.

The broker before answering the question crossed the room to the water cooler and drank a brief swallow.

Then emptying the glass he refilled it, moistened his lips again, and again emptied and filled the goblet.

He put it down, caught it up once more, filled it, emptied it, drinking now in long draughts, now in little sips.He was quite unconscious of his actions, and Landry as he watched, felt his heart sink.Things must, indeed, be at a desperate pass when Gretry, the calm, the clear-headed, the placid, was thus upset.

"Your orders?" said the broker, at last."The same as yesterday; keep the market up--that's all.It must not go below a dollar fifteen.But act on the defensive.

Don't be aggressive, unless I send word.There will probably be very heavy selling the first few moments.

You can buy, each of you, up to half a million bushels apiece.If that don't keep the price up, if they still are selling after that...well"; Gretry paused a moment, irresolutely, "well," he added suddenly, "if they are still selling freely after you've each bought half a million, I'll let you know what to do.And, look here," he continued, facing the group, "look here--keep your heads cool...I guess to-day will decide things.Watch the Crookes crowd pretty closely.Iunderstand they're up to something again.That's all, I guess."Landry and the other Gretry traders hurried from the office up to the floor.Landry's heart was beating thick and slow and hard, his teeth were shut tight.

Every nerve, every fibre of him braced itself with the rigidity of drawn wire, to meet the issue of the impending hours.Now, was to come the last grapple.

He had never lived through a crisis such as this before.Would he prevail, would he keep his head?

Would he avoid or balk the thousand and one little subterfuges, tricks, and traps that the hostile traders would prepare for him--prepare with a quickness, a suddenness that all but defied the sharpest, keenest watchfulness?

Was the gong never going to strike? He found himself, all at once, on the edge of the Wheat Pit.It was jammed tight with the crowd of traders and the excitement that disengaged itself from that tense, vehement crowd of white faces and glittering eyes was veritably sickening, veritably weakening.Men on either side of him were shouting mere incoherencies, to which nobody, not even themselves, were listening.

Others silent, gnawed their nails to the quick, breathing rapidly, audibly even, their nostrils expanding and contracting.All around roared the vague thunder that since early morning had shaken the building.In the Pit the bids leaped to and fro, though the time of opening had not yet come; the very planks under foot seemed spinning about in the first huge warning swirl of the Pit's centripetal convulsion.

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