Page:Ned Wilding's Disappearance.djvu/109

Rh and mahogany railings, big rosewood desks, telephones on the desks, stock tickers clicking in one corner, and three girls clicking on typewriters in another corner. On every side were evidence of a big and rushing business.

"Well, sir, what can we do for you? Who are you from?" asked a clerk, from behind a brass grating, as Ned entered.

"I came to buy some stock," the boy replied.

"Who for? Speak quick! This is our busy day!"

"For myself," Ned replied.

"Come, no joking. I haven't any time to waste. Got an order from a broker? Hand it over with the check."

"I haven't any order and I haven't any check," Ned made reply, somewhat sharply, for the clerk's manner nettled him. "I came in here to buy some stock on my own account. I've got the cash here, but if you don't want—"

"What is it?" asked a large, pompous man, with a florid face and a white moustache, coming from an inner office.

"This boy says he wants to buy some stock." the clerk replied.

The florid man looked at Ned sharply.

"You mean this gentleman comes in here to