Manning back to Indian Pond on a
fishing trip; and Samuel went along to help with the carries. And all
the way the talk was of the wonders of city life. Samuel learned that
his home was a God-forsaken place in winter--something which had never
been hinted at in any theological book which he had read. Manning
wondered that Adam didn't get out to some place where a man had a
chance. Then he threw away a half-smoked cigar and talked about the
theaters and the music halls; and after that he came back to the
inexhaustible topic of Wall Street.
He had had interesting news from the office that day; there was a big
deal about to be consummated--the Glass Bottle Trust was ready for
launching. For nearly a year old Harry Lockman--"You've heard of him,
no doubt--he built up the great glass works at Lockmanville?" said
Manning. No, Adam confessed that he had never heard of Lockman, that
shrewd and crafty old multi-millionaire who had gone on a still hunt
for glass-bottle factories, and now had the country in the grip of the
fourteen-million-dollar "Glass Bottle Securities Company." No one knew
it, as yet; but soon the enterprise would be under full sail--"And
won't the old cormorant take in the shekels, though!" chuckled
Manning.
"That might be a good sort of thing for a man to invest in," said Adam
cautiously.
"Well, I just guess!" laughed the other. "If he's quick about it.
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