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The day book. (Chicago, Ill.) 1911-1917, February 21, 1916, LAST EDITION, Image 18

Image and text provided by University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign Library, Urbana, IL

Persistent link: http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn83045487/1916-02-21/ed-1/seq-18/

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By Evans Macaulay Randall.
(Copyright, 1916, W.--Qr. Chapman.)
"I'm through!"
Roland Dalton looked it. Young,
handsome, well dressed, sober, ener
getic, ambitious this had been his
record "on the Board" for two years,
but just now there was in his face an
appalling discouragement.
"See here, Jerry," he said to his
trader and manager, "there's no need
to publish it, but I don't dare to go
any further. If I did, it would be on
baseless credit and I'll take no chance
with other people's money."
"But, sir, we owe nothing, the
decks are clear "
"And I'm going to quit, while they
are. You follow orders. Pay off every
bill and close up the office. I'll pay
you and Miss Blount a month's salary
ahead. I'll leave each of you a first
class recommendation to Burtelle &
Co., who will be glad of your services.
I'm going up into Wisconsin and get
as far away from the hubbub and
worry as I can for a month. Then I
think I'll strike out for the coast and
begin all over again."
Loyal Jerry Watson's lips pucker
ed. Marcia Blount, at the typewriter,
was white as a sheet Dalton stole a
glance at her and he gulped down a
sigh. Shattered business, a shattered,
though half-fledged, romance it was
"Close up the office and tell any in
quirer that I'm off for a rest," pro
ceeded Dalton, "but pay everybody
and let Dalton & Co. fade away with
out any sensation."
"But, sir," expostulated Jerry,
"things aren't so bad as you think.
We're square. Well, then, how about
the big broomcorn consignment?"
Dalton shook his head drearily.
"Jerry," he said, "the market's
down on that and may stay down."
"But the $10,000 option, sir?"
"I'll lose it rather than take the lot
and involve others in loss. No. I'm
through, I tell you, for good."
Then Roland Dalton went away,
reckless, desperate Jerry stood look
ing about him like a lost souL Miss
Blount was crying softly.
"I never thought he'd flunk!" mut
tered Jerry. "Well, we're through,
too. It's a new job for both of us, I'm
"I will stay and get everybody
checked up," volunteered the pretty
stenographer. "You're feeling blue,
sir. Go home and forget it alL"
Jerry was seated in the midst of his
family that evening when Miss Blount
"I'm Through!"
unexpectedly intruded. She looked
excited and exhilarated.
"Mr. Watson," she announced, "two
strange things happened at the office
after you left."
"Yes?" murmured Jerry, interroga
tively. "The first was a notification that
our people at Aberdeen had shipped
the entire broomcorn consignment."
"Why!" fairly shouted Jerry, in dire
consternation, "a million dollars'
worth! No market! Freight charges

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