Winston, however, sat gravely
still, though the lad noticed that his eyes were keener than usual, for
the muffled roar of the city, patter of messengers' feet, ceaseless
tinkle of telephone call bells, and whir of the elevators, each packed
with human freight, all stirred him. Hitherto he had grappled with
nature, but now he was to test his judgment against the keenest wits of
the cities, and stand or fall by it, in the struggle that was to be
waged over the older nations' food.
At last, however, a clerk signed to them from a doorway, and they found
Graham sitting before a littered table. A man sat opposite him with
the telephone receiver in his hand.
"Sorry to keep you, but I've both hands full just now. Every man in
this city is thinking wheat," he said. "Has he word from Chicago,
Thomson?"
"Yes," said the clerk. "Bears lost hold this morning. General buying!"
Just then the door swung open and a breathless man came in. "Guess I
scared that clerk of yours who wanted to turn me off," he said. "Heard
what Chicago's doing? Well, you've got to buy for me now. They're
going to send her right up into the sky, and it's 'bout time I got out
before the bulls trample the life out of me."
"Quite sure you can't wait until to-morrow?" asked Graham.
The man shook his head. "No, sir. When I've been selling all along
the line! Send off right away, and tell your man on the market to
cover every blame sale for me."
Graham signed to the clerk, and as the telephone bell tinkled a lad
brought in a message.
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