The Profiteers

"Anything doing in your market to-day?" Kendrick asked his younger associate. White made a little grimace. "B. & I., B. & I., all the time," he grumbled. "I'm sick of the name of the damned things. And to tell you the truth, Ken, when a client asks for my advice about them, I don't know what to say." Kendrick contemplated the tips of his patent boots. He was a well-looking, well-turned-out and well-to-do representative of the occupation which he, his father and grandfather had followed, -ten years older, perhaps, than his companion, but remarkably well-preserved. He had made money and kept it. "They say that Rockefeller's at the back of them," he remarked.