The storm showed a rainbow at the end of which might be a pot of gold.
He was about to cross to a little red-and-white striped bar which was fastened up beside a door when a voice greeted him familiarly.

Instantly his heart sank.

"Why, hello, George, old man!" said the voice.

"What are you doing down here ?" Hurstwood was already confronted, and recognized his friend Kenny, the stock-broker.
"Just attending to a little private matter," he answered, his mind working like a key-board of a telephone station.

This man evidently did not know--he had not read the papers.
"Well, it seems strange to see you way up here," said Mr.Kenny genially.