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Updated: June 15, 2025
Then came a voice louder than the others. "There's Breen talking to Minott and Biffy. He's in the Street; he'll know.... Say, Breen!" Jack rose to his feet and met the speaker half way. "What do you know, Breen, about that scoop in gold stock? Heard anything about it? Who engineered it? Charley Gilbert's cleaned out, I hear." "I don't know anything," said Jack.
It was during this time that Biffy Lea, one of Princeton's greatest tackles, was slowly but surely making a wonderful tackle out of Doc Hillebrand. Bert Wheeler was making rapid strides to attain the position of halfback. They were the only two freshmen who made the team that year. I was one of those that failed.
Why, hello, Jack! how long have you been here? Morlon, you know Mr. Breen, don't you? Yes, of course you do new member just elected. Get a move on that carcass of yours, Biffy, and let somebody else get up to that table. Charles, take the orders."
Garry tossed back his head and laughed. "Biffy, are you listening to his Reverence, the Bishop of Cumberland? Here endeth the first lesson." Biff nodded over his high-ball. He wasn't listening discussions of any kind bored him. "But what do you care, Jack, what they say what anybody says?" continued Garry. "Keep right on. You are in the Street to make money, aren't you?
It was just as well to know the sheep from the goats, if he was to spend the remainder of his life in the Street. "That's what we want to know. Thought you might have heard." Jack shook his head and resumed his seat beside Biffy, who had not moved or shown the slightest interest in the affair. Nobody could sell Biff any gold stock nor any other kind of stock.
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