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Updated: May 8, 2025


Before seven o'clock Bannon had succeeded in getting two more lights up on poles, one on each side of the track. It was just at seven that the timbers suddenly stopped coming in. Bannon looked around impatiently. The six men that had brought in the last stick were disappearing around the corner of the great, shadowy structure that shut off Bannon's view of the wharf.

It was windier on that particular wharf than anywhere else in the Calumet flats, and the hat he had on was not built for that sort of weather. It was perfectly rigid, and not at all accommodated to the shape of Bannon's head. So, very naturally, it blew off, rolled around among their feet for a moment, and then dropped into the river between the wharf and the tug.

Before Bannon's train came in he understood it all. A clique of speculators had decided to corner wheat, an enterprise nearly enough impossible in any case, but stark madness unless they had many millions at command. It was a long chance, of course, but after all not wonderful that some one in their number was a power in the reorganized G.&M.

She had neither money nor friends in Paris. True: she had mentioned some personal jewellery she planned to hypothecate. Her first move, then, would be to seek the mont-de-piete not to force himself again upon her, but to follow at a distance and ward off interference on Bannon's part.

Before seven o'clock Bannon had succeeded in getting two more lights up on poles, one on each side of the track. It was just at seven that the timbers suddenly stopped coming in. Bannon looked around impatiently. The six men that had brought in the last stick were disappearing around the corner of the great, shadowy structure that shut off Bannon's view of the wharf.

His eyes were roving over the carpet, lifting now and then to Bannon's face with a quick glance. "Guess I'll shave," said Bannon. "Do you get hot water here?" "Why, I don't know," replied Peterson. "I generally use cold water. The folks here ain't very obliging. Kind o' poor, you know." Bannon was rummaging in his grip for his shaving kit. "You never saw a razor like that, Pete," he said.

He was not of the sort that talk just for the pleasure of hearing their own voices, and he had categorical instructions that made parley unnecessary. He would not even tell from whom he had the orders. So the posts were lugged out of the way and the fence was put up and the men scattered out to their former work again, grinning a little over Bannon's discomfiture.

Max could make little out of it, for Bannon's face was under water half the time, but he caught such phrases as "Pete's darned foolishness," "College boy trick," "Lie abed all the morning," and "Better get an alarm clock" which thing and the need for it Bannon greatly despised and he reached the conclusion that the matter was nothing more serious than that Bannon had overslept.

She looked up and met Bannon's eyes again, with an expression that puzzled Max. "I don't care. It's almost time to go home, anyway." So they went out, and closed the door; and Max, who had been told to "stay behind and keep house," looked after them, and then at the door, and an odd expression of slow understanding came into his face.

His eyes were roving over the carpet, lifting now and then to Bannon's face with a quick glance. "Guess I'll shave," said Bannon. "Do you get hot water here?" "Why, I don't know," replied Peterson. "I generally use cold water. The folks here ain't very obliging. Kind o' poor, you know." Bannon was rummaging in his grip for his shaving kit. "You never saw a razor like that, Pete," he said.

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