As we chanced to leave the restaurant together, I was rallying him upon his abstraction, when to my surprise he said gravely: "Look here, one of two things has got to happen: either we must change our restaurant or I'm going to resign." "Why ?" "Well, to make matters clear, I'm obliged to tell you something that in our business we usually keep a secret.

About three weeks ago I had a notice to transfer twenty feet of Gold Hill to a fellow named 'Tournelli.' Well, Tournelli happened to call for it himself, and who the devil do you suppose Tournelli was?
Why our Italian waiter.

I was regularly startled, and so was he.

But business is business; so I passed him over the stock and said nothing--nor did he--neither there nor here.
Day before yesterday he had thirty feet more transferred to him, and sold out." "Well ?" I said impatiently.
"Well," repeated Tallant indignantly.

"Gold Hill's worth six hundred dollars a foot.