The chiefs object to it. So I do my little
ventures in Tom's name instead, my brother-in-law, Tom Whitley's.
Those Cedulas went up another eighth yesterday. Well hit again: I'm
always lucky. And that was a good thing I put you on last week,
too, wasn't it? Did you sell out to-day? They're up at 96, and you
bought in at 80."
"No, I didn't sell to-day," Guy answered, with a yawn. "I'm holding
on still for a further rise. I thought I'd sell out when they
reached the even hundred."
"My dear fellow, you're wrong," Nevitt put in eagerly. "You ought
to have sold to-day. It's the top of the market. They'll begin to
decline soon, and when once they begin they'll come down with a
crash, as P.L.'s did on Saturday. You take my advice and sell out
first thing to-morrow morning. You'll clear sixteen pounds on each
of your shares. That's enough for any man. You bought ten shares,
I think, didn't you? Well, there you are, you see; a hundred and
sixty off-hand for you on your bargain."
Guy paused and reflected a doubtful moment. "Yes, I'll sell out
to-morrow, Nevitt," he said, after a struggle, "or what comes to
the same thing, you can sell out for me. But, do you know, my dear
fellow, I sometimes fancy I'm a fool for my pains, going in for
all this silly speculation.
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