Friday, the Thirteenth

Friday, the Thirteenth

Chapter I.

“Friday, the 13th; I thought as much. If Bob has started, there will behell, but I will see what I can do.”

The sound of my voice, as I dropped the receiver, seemed to part the mistsof five years and usher me into the world of Then as though it had neverpassed on.

I had been sitting in my office, letting the tape slide through my fingerswhile its every yard spelled “panic” in a constantly rising voice, whenthey told me that Brownley on the floor of the Exchange wanted me at the’phone, and “quick.” Brownley was our junior partner and floor man. Hetalked with a rush. Stock Exchange floor men in panics never let theirspeech hobble.

“Mr. Randolph, it’s sizzling over here, and it’s getting hotter everysecond. It’s Bob—that is evident to all. If he keeps up this pace fortwenty minutes longer, the sulphur will overflow ‘the Street’ and getinto the banks and into the country, and no man can tell how muchterritory will be burned over by to-morrow. The boys have begged me to askyou to throw yourself into the breach and stay him. They agree you are theonly hope now.”

“Are you sure, Fred, that this is Bob’s work?” I asked. “Have you seenhim?”

“Yes, I have just come from his office, and glad I was to get out. He’s onthe war-path, Mr. Randolph—uglier than I ever saw him. The last time hebroke loose was child’s play to his mood to-day. Mother sent me word thismorning that she saw last night the spell was coming. He had been up tosee her and sisters, and mother thought from his tone he was about todisappear again. When she told me of his mood, and I remembered the day, Iwas afraid he might seek his vent here. Also I heard of his being abouttown till long after midnight. The mi

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