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"Listen!" he said under his breath to Rogers. "I think they must have the goods on Mister Wisenheimer at last. Usually he's the cockiest person round this building. Now take a look at him." Indeed, there was a visible air of self-abasement about Lieutenant Weil as he crossed the wide chamber.
"Yes, I should think you'd be awfully practical," mused Una. "My! three dollars to two hundred! You'll make an awful lot out of it." "Well, now, I'm not saying anything. I don't pretend to be a Wisenheimer. May be nine or ten years nineteen seventeen or nineteen eighteen before we are doing a regular business. And at that, the shares may never go above par.
Or else Headquarters issues a general alarm, giving names, dates, personal description, size of reward and place where last seen. This time it's a general alarm. From what I could gather, a downcasted Issy Wisenheimer has been up to the front parlor beefing about his vanishing bankroll and his disappearing breast-pin.
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