of the oldest and most prosperous in the street, so he said; and its
junior partner was in the confidence of some of the greatest powers in
the financial affairs of the country. And, alas! for the Prescott
family, which did not read the magazines and had never even heard of a
"bucket-shop"!

Adam, the oldest brother, took Mr. Manning back to Indian Pond on a
fishing trip; and Samuel went along to help with the carries. And all
the way the talk was of the wonders of city life. Samuel learned that
his home was a God-forsaken place in winter--something which had never
been hinted at in any theological book which he had read. Manning
wondered that Adam didn't get out to some place where a man had a
chance. Then he threw away a half-smoked cigar and talked about the
theaters and the music halls; and after that he came back to the
inexhaustible topic of Wall Street.

He had had interesting news from the office that day; there was a big
deal about to be consummated--the Glass Bottle Trust was ready for
launching. For nearly a year old Harry Lockman--"You've heard of him,
no doubt--he built up the great glass works at Lockmanville?" said
Manning. No, Adam confessed that he had never heard of Lockman, that
shrewd and crafty old multi-millionaire who had gone on a still hunt
for glass-bottle factories, and now had the country in the grip of the
fourteen-million-dollar "Glass Bottle Securities Company." No one knew
it, as yet; but soon the enterprise would be under full sail--"And
won't the old cormorant take in the shekels, though!" chuckled
Manning.

"That might be a good sort of thing for a man to invest in," said Adam
cautiously.