"Damn him!" etc., etc.

And with this the book would drop from his lap and he begin pacing the floor, his eyes on the carpet, his broad shoulders bent in his anxiety to solve the problem which haunted him night and day:--how to get Harry back under his roof and not yield a jot or tittle of his pride or will--or, to be more explicit, now that the mountain would not come to Mahomet, how could Mahomet get over to the mountain?
His friend and nearest neighbor, John Gorsuch, who was also his man of business, opened the way.

The financier's clerk had brought him a letter, just in by the afternoon coach, and with a glance at its contents the shrewd old fellow had at once ordered his horse and set out for Moorlands, some two miles distant.

Nor did he draw rein or break gallop until he threw the lines to a servant beside the lower step of the colonel's porch.
"It's the Patapsco again! It will close its doors before the week is out!" he cried, striding into the library, where the colonel, who had just come in from inspecting a distant field on his estate, sat dusting his riding-boots with his handkerchief.
"Going to stop payment! Failed! What the devil do you mean, John ?" "I mean just what I say! Everything has gone to bally-hack in the city.
Here's a letter I have just received from Harding--he's on the inside, and knows.

He thinks there's some crooked business about it; they have been loaning money on all sorts of brick-bats, he says, and the end has come, or will to-morrow.