There are genial, liberal, and companionable rascals and mean, contemptible, sneaking ones. The former attract by their apparent honesty and cordial expressions, and are the more dangerous; the latter repel by every look, act, and word. Of the first class J. Malcolm Weston was a pertinent example, while Carlos B. Hill was of the latter.

On "the street" and among his associates Weston was considered a jovial, good-natured man, liberal in small things, a pleasant associate, but lacking in morality and without principle. He paid for one of the best pews in the church Winn's aunt attended, which was always occupied by his wife and family, and by him occasionally; he contributed for charitable and missionary work in an ostentatious way, always insisting that it be known how much he gave; belonged to a club where gambling was the chief amusement and the members of which were mostly stock brokers, speculators, and fast men about town; he wore the latest and most fashionable raiment, and drove a dashing turnout. Before the firm of Weston & Hill had been established he had been the manager of what is known as a bucket shop, and when that failed (as they always do, soon or late) he began his career as a promoter. In this he was not over-successful, mainly from lack of funds to carry out his schemes; but when the conceited, shallow-minded Hill was induced to walk into his parlor, Weston began to soar. Hill was a retired manufacturer and bigoted church member who had saved a small fortune by miserly living, stealing trade marks, copying designs, making cheap imitations of other manufacturers' goods, and cutting prices. He thirsted for fame as a great financier and longed to be a power in the stock market. Weston, whose business arguments usually contained equal parts of religion and possible profit-making, in due proportion to the credulity and piety of his victims, and who could time a horse race, play a game of poker, or utter a fervid exhortation with equal facility, easily led Hill into the investment and brokerage business, and so the firm was established.

This was J. Malcolm Weston.

Of Hill, though his counterpart exists, but not in plenty, an explicit description shall be given. He was of medium size with a sharp hawklike nose, retreating forehead, deep-set fishy eyes, ears that stood out like small wings, and a handclasp as cold and lifeless as a pump-handle. His sole object of conversation was himself; he had pinched pennies, denied himself all luxuries, and lived to be hated, till he grew rich. It was one of his kind of whom the story is told that, having died rich (as usual), a stranger passing the church on the day of the funeral asked of the sexton at the door, "What complaint?" and received the reply, "None whatever; everybody satisfied."

Weston, liberal rascal that he was, was not long in learning to hate his mean-natured partner, and by the time the Rockhaven Granite Company was duly organized and well on toward success, had conceived another and perhaps more excusable swindle (if any swindle is excusable), it being not only to rob the investors in Rockhaven, but Hill as well, and then leave for a foreign clime. But the launching of Rockhaven necessitated outlay. Hill really held the purse-strings, so Weston, the plausible, shrewd schemer, bided his time. But the road to success became difficult. Each successive outlay was whined about and opposed by Hill, who, shallow in his conceit, lacked the courage of his rascality. When Winn was sent to Rockhaven, and money to pay men must follow, and each successive item and advertisement in the Market News (both high-priced) only made him wince the more, it required all of Weston's optimistic arguments to keep him from backing out. But when returns from the sale of this absolutely worthless stock came in, Hill smiled, and when some thirty thousand shares had been sold and, by reason of Simmons' manipulation, it was quoted on 'change at six dollars per share, his eyes glittered like those of a hungry shark. No thought of the honest and confiding men and women who had contributed to swell the total, and would share in the inevitable loss, came to him. No qualms of conscience, no sense of guilt, no fear of retribution! only the miser's lust of gain and the swelling of his abnormal self-esteem. And so gratified was he in this partial success, and so eager to pocket its results, that, had Weston now proposed dividing receipts and absconding, he would have consented with alacrity.

Of those who were to be the dupes of this precious pair a word will now be said. They comprised a varied list, from poorly paid clerks who had caught the gambling fever to Winn's aunt who, since she believed in Weston, and being baited on by the deceptive dividend, had invested almost her entire fortune. There was one cashier in a bank who had "utilized" about three of the many thousands he had access to, an innocent and underpaid stenographer in Weston & Hill's office who persuaded her widowed mother to draw her all from the savings bank and buy Rockhaven, and scores of small investors, trustees for estates; and even sane business men, lured by the early and unexpected dividend and anxious to share in the rapid advance, bought, what they at heart feared was worthless. And so the bubble grew apace, and Weston and his henchman, Simmons, in the privacy of their offices, smiled and congratulated one another, and plotted and planned. They discussed the items to be paid for in the Market News, how long it would be necessary to continue the farce of quarrying carried on by Winn, and how much stock was really being tossed back and forth among the gamblers on 'change, and how much held by honest investors. Of the quarried stone shipped by Winn, enough had been received to build the palatial residence Simmons had under way and some toward another and smaller contract, taken at a price below market rates. To these consultations Hill was seldom invited, for the best of reasons,—he was in the end to be made the dupe of all. Of this latter and final iniquity not even Simmons was informed.