bales have been sold to Homma". "What will you bring to Osaka tomorrow" asked the merchant. "So sorry" replied the grower, "all of this year's harvest from my farms has been sold to Homma" The same story was repeated by every grower. There was nary a grain of rice to be bought in the whole of Osaka.

Homma had cornered the Osaka rice market! This was the third day.

The merchants cursed their intelligence sources and poured scorn on their news providers. Their horses were too slow; the riders were lazy, they deserved a good kicking; the only explanation must be that Homma had better intelligence. He must have a courier pigeon service to know these things. Now the merchants would be forced to buy their new rice from Hommaand he was sure to ask a heavy price.

As the sun rose on the fourth day Homma sat in his warehouse with his beloved sheets of rice paper covered with the strange symbols. Local men had worked through the night to store the huge supply of new rice bales in his warehouses. Additional warehouses were being leased to accommodate the rice bales still to arrive from the local farms. Warehouse space in Osaka this year was cheap as the rice crop would be limited to local supplies. In an hour the rice merchants of Osaka would be at his door desperate now to buy some of the new season rice that they had so mistakenly refused in the past three days. Homma's edge was not in faster horses