“Just what would you do about this?” he asked of Strobik, who knew of Mollenhauer’s visit before Stener told him, and was waiting for Stener to speak to him.  “Mr. Mollenhauer talks about having this new loan listed on ’change and brought to par so that it will sell for one hundred.”

Neither Strobik, Harmon, nor Wycroft knew how the certificates of city loan, which were worth only ninety on the open market, were to be made to sell for one hundred on ’change, but Mollenhauer’s secretary, one Abner Sengstack, had suggested to Strobik that, since Butler was dealing with young Cowperwood and Mollenhauer did not care particularly for his private broker in this instance, it might be as well to try Cowperwood.

So it was that Cowperwood was called to Stener’s office.  And once there, and not as yet recognizing either the hand of Mollenhauer or Simpson in this, merely looked at the peculiarly shambling, heavy-cheeked, middle-class man before him without either interest or sympathy, realizing at once that he had a financial baby to deal with.  If he could act as adviser to this man—­be his sole counsel for four years!

“How do you do, Mr. Stener?” he said in his soft, ingratiating voice, as the latter held out his hand.  “I am glad to meet you.  I have heard of you before, of course.”

Stener was long in explaining to Cowperwood just what his difficulty was.  He went at it in a clumsy fashion, stumbling through the difficulties of the situation he was suffered to meet.

“The main thing, as I see it, is to make these certificates sell at par.  I can issue them in any sized lots you like, and as often as you like.  I want to get enough now to clear away two hundred thousand dollars’ worth of the outstanding warrants, and as much more as I can get later.”

Cowperwood felt like a physician feeling a patient’s pulse—­a patient who is really not sick at all but the reassurance of whom means a fat fee.  The abstrusities of the stock exchange were as his A B C’s to him.  He knew if he could have this loan put in his hands—­all of it, if he could have the fact kept dark that he was acting for the city, and that if Stener would allow him to buy as a “bull” for the sinking-fund while selling judiciously for a rise, he could do wonders even with a big issue.  He had to have all of it, though, in order that he might have agents under him.  Looming up in his mind was a scheme whereby he could make a lot of the unwary speculators about ’change go short of this stock or loan under the impression, of course, that it was scattered freely in various persons’ hands, and that they could buy as much of it as they wanted.  Then they would wake to find that they could not get it; that he had it all.  Only he would not risk his secret that far.  Not he, oh, no.  But he would drive the city loan to par and then sell.  And what a fat thing for himself among others in so doing.  Wisely enough he sensed that there was politics in all this—­shrewder and bigger men above and behind Stener.  But what of that?  And how slyly and shrewdly they were sending Stener to him.  It might be that his name was becoming very potent in their political world here.  And what might that not mean!