The thought lighted up his cruel face like a red ray from the pit; it would be such a joke--such a triumph over the pig American! Meanwhile he would bully Mr.Harley, who did not know but what the shares were in his pocket.
If Storri had been informed of how, through the deep arrangements of that strategist of stocks, he had borrowed every dollar of those five hundred thousand from Mr.Bayard, as well as every share of Northern Consolidated delivered to perfect those sales that had brought him down in ruin--in short, if he had been told the whole romance, from Mr.
Fopling's exhortation to "Bweak him!" to the close of the market on that crashing Friday afternoon, he might have been less sure of recapturing those French shares.

But he was ignorant of those truths; and, with confidence bred of ignorance, he summoned Mr.Harley.He, Storri, would browbeat and bleed him; he would teach the caitiff Harley to be more careful of the favor, not to say the fortune, of a Russian nobleman.
Mr.Harley, with the defeat of the "bear" attack on Northern Consolidated, was left in forlornest case.

He was aware that it spelled money-ruin for both him and Senator Hanway; but the picture of the rage of Storri, and what that savage might do in his bitterness, so filled up his thoughts that he scarcely heeded anything beyond.

Mr.Harley was stricken sick by his own fears, and, after returning from New York on the evening of that fearful Friday, never moved from his room.

To the anxious tap of Dorothy, he sent word that he was not ill, but very busy; he must not be disturbed.