" Going in with your father?" 
" No, I'm going to work for Tighe and Company." 
" Oh, that's the lay, eh? Well, they're clever people. 
I know Ed Tighe." 
The old commission man was greatly depressed. He 
had fancied, through the presence of Frank, that he was 
fixed in ease and surety for the rest of his days. Now here 
was that prop knocked square from under him. And 
his son was no good. It was too bad. 
Brother George came in after a time and heard the 
news. He was much more excitable than his brother, 
much more nervous. 
" Well, now, what do you think of that ?" he asked. 
" Here we were, you and me, just getting ready to give 
him an interest, and now he picks up and walks off. I 
never noticed that he was dissatisfied before. What does 
he say?" 
"He hasn't any complaint," said Henry. " He says 
he don't like this business. I don't believe him, some- 
times. He wants to get in the money game, like his 
father—wants to be a broker. He's going over with 
Tighe and Company." 
" Oh, that's it," said Brother George. "Well, now, I 
wonder who we'll get to take his place ?" 
" You can't get any one to take his place," replied 
Henry, sourly. " He's a natural-born financier. He's 
an organizer. We might have known we couldn't expect 
to hold him. He won't stay long with Tighe. That fel- 
low's going to go it alone pretty soon. Can't you see it 
in his eye? He isn't going to work for anybody. Neither 
you nor I nor any one can keep him." 
He switched around in his chair and looked gloomily 
out of the window. "Now," he said to himself, "I have 
got to get up and hustle around the street myself. If 
that boy of mine were any good—" His thoughts trailed 
off into oblivion. 
George returned to the little coop where he kept his