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There was a slu market, and men ere otherwise

decent citizens wailed for one hour of glorious hen Kenyon Line

Deferred had stood at 88 1/2, and even so poor an organization as

Siddons Steam Packets Line had been marketable at 3 3/8

Two bareheaded men came down the busy street, their hands thrust into

their trousers pockets, their sleek, well-oiled heads bent in dejection

No word they spoke, keeping step with the stern precision of soldiers

Together they wheeled through the open doors of the Coether they left-turned into the elevator, and

sih in its

panelled ceiling was concealed some Delphic oracle ould answer the

riddle which circuether and stood with sad eyes, regarding

the attendant's leisurely unlatching of the gate They slipped forth

and walked in single file to a suite of offices inscribed "Pole

Brothers, Brokers," and, beneath, "The United Merchant Shippers'

Corporation," and passed through a door which, in addition to this

declaration, bore the footnote "Private"

Here the file divided, one going to one side of a vast pedestal desk

and one to the other Still with their hands pushed deep into their

pockets, they sank, almost as at a word of command, each into his

cushioned chair, and stared at one another across the table