Part 5

Bowen stared from one to the other, staggered. He could not at first grasp the reality of what had taken place.

“You’re not trying just to brace me up—”

“Rats!” Saunders clapped him on the shoulders happily. “Not a bit of it. I’m a cold-blooded business man, and I don’t give a whoop about bracing you up! As a matter of fact, I did not get control of the stock after all. Henderson’s holdings never did come on the market, you know, except in part. So when I saw how things were going, I let Miss Ferguson boss the job. And it’s blamed lucky I did!”

“Great Jehu!” said Bowen slowly. “Then—then we’re not broke after all—”

“Not by two hundred thousand or so! Which, I judge, our friend Dickover pays—”

Bowen came to his feet, a trifle unsteadily.

“Gus,” he said, his voice solemn, but a twinkle in his gray eyes, “this can only happen once in a lifetime. Thank Heaven it happened in my lifetime! Now, see here. It was Miss Ferguson who saved the bacon to-day, and I want to tell you that she’s too good a partner to lose. Would you mind making this a real private office for a few minutes?”

With a blank look that swiftly changed to a grin of comprehension, Mr. Saunders left.

Bowen turned to Alice Ferguson, and at sight of her rapidly crimsoning countenance the old boyish smile came to his lips.

“Hold on!” he exclaimed. “Don’t say anything for about two minutes, please! I’m all done with business. I don’t want to hear the word again—between us. When I’m talking about partnership like I want to talk, I mean something else than business! Maybe you’ll think that I’m pretty sudden, but I tell you that I never met any one like you before, and I never will again. And I want you to listen, because—”

And Alice Ferguson listened.

(The end.)

[Transcriber’s Note: This story appeared in the November 2, 1918 issue of All-Story Weekly magazine.]