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Updated: June 26, 2025
Greedily listening to this insane counsel, the mob resolved to act upon it. Headed by the merchant, they ran down Thread-needle-street, and, crossing Stock's Market, burst open several houses in Bearbinder-lane, and drove away the watchmen.
"Bo," said he at last, "I'm thinkin' th' kindest thing I could do would be t' slip one over t' your point while you wasn't lookin', an' puttin' you t' sleep a bit you want soothin'! Bud'll be too big fer you or any other guy t' tackle now; ye see, his stock's rose th' Noo Jersey p'lice wasn't strong enough t' hold him "
"Colonel Sampson has a big outfit, eh?" "Reckon he has," replied Dick. "Don' know how many cowboys. They're always comin' an' goin'. I ain't acquainted with half of them." "Much movement of stock these days?" "Stock's always movin'," he replied with a queer look. "Rustlers?" But he did not follow up that look with the affirmative I expected. "Lively place, I hear Linrock is?"
When Putney dropped in to order his marketing, he usually said something like, "Well, Joel, how's cremation, this morning?" "Just booming, Squire. That stock's coming up, right along. Bound to be worth a hundred cents on the dollar before hayin', yet." This, or something like it, was what Gates usually answered, but one morning he asked, "Heard how it stands with the Ponkwasset folks, I suppose?
Upon her arrival in London, fresh trains of ideas were quickly forced upon her mind, which were as dissimilar as possible from those associated with love, friendship, and Elmour Grove. At Sir Thomas Stock's, every thing she saw and heard served to remind, or rather to convince her, of the opulence of the owner of the house.
Stock's anger on the other, spurred him on; and he valued himself not a little at having got the better of this temptation. He felt quite happy when he found he had reached the door of his landlord without having yielded to one idle inclination. He knocked at the door. The maid who opened it said her master was not at home.
"To hear you talk," put in Sam, with a grin, "one would think you didn't shove off millions of dollars of suspicious stuff on the public through those damn clever letters of yours." "There's where you didn't stop to think, Sam," said I. "When I say a stock's going to rise, it rises. When I stop talking about it, it may go on rising or it may fall.
On the way, he noticed two dead bodies lying at the mouth of a small alley, and hastening past, was stopped at the entrance to Cornhill by a butcher's apprentice, who was wheeling away the body of an old man, who had just died while purchasing meat at a stall at Stock's Market.
Let me now call to mind the sorrow I used to feel when I was made to carry work home on a Sunday by an ungodly master: and let me now keep the resolution I then formed. So what his heart found right to do, he resolved to do quickly; and he set out at first as he meant to go on. The Sunday was truly a day of rest at Mr. Stock's.
Regretfully they turned into bunk, and sank into sleep too deep for dreaming. The next day Mac came across George at work on a break in a fence. "Good mornin', Mac, me boy. How's things? This 'ere slip do be a fair devil." "Oh, stock's all right. What d'you think of what's happening?" "Aw, yer mean this 'ere row in Yourope? It's a bit of a business, ain't it?"
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