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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/23171-0.txt b/23171-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..da7d9bb --- /dev/null +++ b/23171-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1140 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Tipster, by Edwin Lefevre + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Tipster + 1901, From “Wall Street Stories” + +Author: Edwin Lefevre + +Release Date: October 24, 2007 [EBook #23171] +Last Updated: November 10, 2016 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TIPSTER *** + + + + +Produced by David Widger + + + + + + +THE TIPSTER + +By Edwin Lefevre + +From “Wall Street Stories.” Copyright, 1901, by McClure, Phillips & Co. + + + + +I + +Glmartin was still laughing professionally at the prospective buyer’s +funny story when the telephone on his desk buzzed. He said: “Excuse me +for a minute, old man,” to the customer--Hopkins, the Connecticut +manufacturer. + +“Hello; who is this?” he spoke into the transmitter. “Oh, how are +you?--Yes--I was out--Is that so?--Too bad--Too bad--Yes; just my luck +to be out. I might have known it!--Do you think so?--Well, then, sell +the 200 Occidental common--You know best--What about Trolley?--Hold +on?--All right; just as you say--I hope so--I don’t like to lose, +and--Ha! ha!--I guess so--Good-by.” + +“It’s from my brokers,” explained Gilmartin, hanging up the receiver. +“I’d have saved five hundred dollars if I had been here at half-past +ten. They called me up to advise me to sell out, and the price is off +over three points. I could have got out at a profit this morning; but +no, sir; not I. I had to be away, trying to buy some camphor.” + +Hopkins was impressed. Gilmartin perceived it and went on, with an air +of comical wrath which he thought was preferable to indifference: “It +isn’t the money I mind so much as the tough luck of it. I didn’t make my +trade in camphor after all and I lost in stocks, when if I’d only waited +five minutes more in the office I’d have got the message from my brokers +and saved my five hundred. Expensive, my time is, eh?” with a woful +shake of the head. + +“But you’re ahead of the game, aren’t you?” asked the customer, +interestedly. + +“Well, I guess yes. Just about twelve thousand.” + +That was more than Gilmartin had made; but having exaggerated, he +immediately felt very kindly disposed toward the Connecticut man. + +“Whew!” whistled Hopkins, admiringly. Gilmartin experienced a great +tenderness toward him. The lie was made stingless by the customer’s +credulity. This brought a smile of subtle relief to Gilmartin’s lips. +He was a pleasant-faced, pleasant-voiced man of three-and-thirty. He +exhaled health, contentment, neatness, and an easy conscience. Honesty +and good-nature shone in his eyes. People liked to shake hands with him. +It made his friends talk of his lucky star; and they envied him. + +“I bought this yesterday for my wife; took it out of a little deal in +Trolley,” he told Hopkins, taking a small jewel-box from one of the +desk’s drawers. It contained a diamond ring, somewhat showy, but +obviously quite expensive. Hopkins’s semi-envious admiration made +Gilmartin add, genially: “What do you say to lunch? I feel I am entitled +to a glass of ‘fizz’ to forget my bad luck of this morning.” Then, in +an exaggeratedly apologetic tone: “Nobody likes to lose five hundred +dollars on an empty stomach!” + +“She’ll be delighted, of course,” said Hopkins, thinking of Mrs. +Gilmartin. Mrs. Hopkins loved jewelry. + +“She’s the nicest little woman that ever lived. Whatever is mine is +hers; and what’s hers is her own. Ha! ha! But,” becoming nicely serious, +“all that I’ll make out of the stock market I’m going to put away for +her, in her name. She can take better care of it than I; and, besides, +she’s entitled to it, anyhow, for being so nice to me.” + +That is how he told what a good husband he was. He felt so pleased over +it that he went on, sincerely regretful: “She’s visiting friends +in Pennsylvania or I’d ask you to dine with us.” And they went to a +fashionable restaurant together. + +Day after day Gilmartin thought persistently that Maiden Lane was too +far from Wall Street. There came a week in which he could have made four +very handsome “turns” had he but been in the brokers’ office. He was out +on business for his firm and when he returned the opportunity had +gone, leaving behind it vivid visions of what might have been; also the +conviction that time, tide, and the ticker wait for no man. Instead of +buying and selling quinine and balsams and essential oils for Maxwell +& Kip, drug brokers and importers, he decided to make the buying and +selling of stocks and bonds his exclusive business. The hours were easy; +the profits would be great. He would make enough to live on. He would +not let the Street take away what it had given. That was the great +secret: to know when to quit! He would be content with a moderate +amount, wisely invested in gilt-edged bonds. And then he would bid the +Street good-by forever. + +Force of long business custom and the indefinable fear of new ventures +for a time fought successfully his increasing ticker-fever. But one day +his brokers wished to speak to him, to urge him to sell out his entire +holdings, having been advised of an epoch-making resolution by Congress. +They had received the news in advance from a Washington customer. Other +brokers had important connections in the Capital and therefore there was +no time to lose. They dared not assume the responsibilty of selling +him out without his permission. Five minutes--five eternities!--passed +before they could talk by telephone with him; and when he gave his order +to sell, the market had broken five or six points. The news was “out.” + The news agencies’ slips were in the brokers’ offices and half of Wall +Street knew. Instead of being among the first ten sellers Gilmartin was +among the second hundred. + + + + +II + +The clerks gave him a farewell dinner. All were there, even the head +office-boy to whom the two-dollar subscription was no light matter. The +man who probably would succeed Gilmartin as manager, Jenkins, acted as +toastmaster. He made a witty speech which ended with a neatly turned +compliment. Moreover, he seemed sincerely sorry to bid good-by to the +man whose departure meant promotion--which was the nicest compliment of +all. And the other clerks--old Williamson, long since ambition-proof; +and young Hardy, bitten ceaselessly by it; and middle-aged Jameson, who +knew he could run the business much better than Gilmartin; and Baldwin, +who never thought of business in or out of the office--all told him how +good he had been and related corroborative anecdotes that made him blush +and the others cheer; and how sorry they were he would no longer be with +them, but how glad he was going to do so much better by himself; and +they hoped he would not “cut” them when he met them after he had become +a great millionaire. And Gilmartin felt his heart grow soft and feelings +not all of happiness came over him. Danny, the dean of the office boys, +whose surname was known only to the cashier, rose and said, in the tones +of one speaking of a dear departed friend: “He was the best man in the +place. He always was all right.” Everybody laughed; whereupon Danny went +on, with a defiant glare at the others: “I’d work for him for nothin’ if +he’d want me, instead of gettin’ ten a week from any one else.” And when +they laughed the harder at this he said, stoutly: “Yes, I would!” His +eyes filled with tears at their incredulity, which he feared might be +shared by Mr. Gilmartin. But the toastmaster rose very gravely and said: +“What’s the matter with Danny?” And all shouted in unison: “He’s all +right!” with a cordiality so heartfelt that Danny smiled and sat down, +blushing happily. And crusty Jameson, who knew he could run the business +so much better than Gilmartin, stood up--he was the last speaker--and +began: “In the ten years I’ve worked with Gilmartin, we’ve had our +differences and--well--I--well--er--oh, damn it!” and walked quickly to +the head of the table and shook hands violently with Gilmartin for fully +a minute, while all the others looked on in silence. + +Gilmartin had been eager to go to Wall Street. But this leave-taking +made him sad. The old Gilmartin who had worked with these men was no +more and the new Gilmartin felt sorry. He had never stopped to think how +much they cared for him nor indeed how very much he cared for them. + +He told them, very simply, he did not expect ever again to spend such +pleasant years anywhere as at the old office; and as for his spells of +ill-temper--oh, yes, they needn’t shake their heads; he knew he often +was irritable--he had meant well and trusted they would forgive him. If +he had his life to live over again he would try really to deserve all +that they had said of him on this evening. And he was very, very sorry +to leave them. “Very sorry, boys; very sorry. _Very_ sorry!” he finished +lamely, with a wistful smile. He shook hands with each man--a strong +grip, as though he were about to go on a journey from which he might +never return--and in his heart of hearts there was a new doubt of the +wisdom of going to Wall Street. But it was too late to draw back. + +They escorted him to his house. They wished to be with him to the last +possible minute. + + + + +III + +Everybody in the drug trade seemed to think that Gilmartin was on +the highroad to Fortune. Those old business acquaintances and former +competitors whom he happened to meet in the street-cars or in the +theatre lobbies always spoke to him as to a millionaire-to-be, in what +they imagined was correct Wall Street jargon, to show him that they too +knew something of the great game. But their efforts made him smile with +a sense of superiority, at the same time that their admiration for his +cleverness and their good-natured envy for his luck made his soul thrill +joyously. Among his new friends in Wall Street also he found much to +enjoy. The other customers--some of them very wealthy men--listened to +his views regarding the market as attentively as he, later, felt it his +polite duty to listen to theirs. The brokers themselves treated him as +a “good fellow.” They cajoled him into trading often--every one hundred +shares he bought or sold meant $12.50 to them--and when he won, they +praised his unerring discernment. When he lost they soothed him by +scolding him for his recklessness--just as a mother will treat her +three-year-old’s fall as a great joke in order to deceive the child into +laughing at its misfortune. It was an average office with an average +clientèle. + +From ten to three they stood before the quotation board and watched a +quick-witted boy chalk the price changes, which one or another of the +customers read aloud from the tape as it came from the ticker. The +higher stocks went the more numerous the customers became, being allured +in great flocks to the Street by the tales of their friends, who had +profited greatly by the rise. All were winning, for all were buying +stocks in a bull market. They resembled each other marvelously, these +men who differed so greatly in cast of features and complexion and age. +Life to all of them was full of joy. The very ticker sounded mirthful; +its clicking told of golden jokes. And Gilmartin and the other customers +laughed heartily at the mildest of stories without even waiting for the +point of the joke. At times their fingers clutched the air happily, as +if they actually felt the good money the ticker was presenting to them. +They were all neophytes at the great game--lambkins who were bleating +blithely to inform the world what clever and formidable wolves they +were. Some of them had sustained occasional losses; but these were +trifling compared with their winnings. + +When the slump came all were heavily committed to the bull side. It was +a bad slump. It was so unexpected--by the lambs--that all of them said, +very gravely, it came like a thunderclap out of a clear sky. While it +lasted, that is, while the shearing of the flock was proceeding, it +was very uncomfortable. Those same joyous, winning stock-gamblers, +with beaming faces, of the week before, were fear-clutched, losing +stock-gamblers, with livid faces, on what they afterward called the day +of the panic. It really was only a slump; rather sharper than usual. +Too many lambs had been over-speculating. The wholesale dealers in +securities--and insecurities--held very little of their own wares, +having sold them to the lambs, and wanted them back now--cheaper. The +customers’ eyes, as on happier days, were intent on the quotation board. +Their dreams were rudely shattered; the fast horses some had all +but bought joined the steam yachts others almost had chartered. The +beautiful homes they had been building were torn down in the twinkling +of an eye. And the demolisher of dreams and dwellings was the ticker, +that instead of golden jokes was now clicking financial death. They +could not take their eyes from the board before them. Their own ruin, +told in mournful numbers by the little machine, fascinated them. To be +sure, poor Gilmartin said: “I’ve changed my mind about Newport. I guess +I’ll spend the summer on my own _Hotel de Roof!_” And he grinned; but +he grinned alone. Wilson, the dry goods man, who laughed so joyously at +everybody’s jokes, was now watching, as if under a hypnotic spell, the +lips of the man who sat on the high stool beside the ticker and called +out the prices to the quotation boy. Now and again Wilson’s own lips +made curious grimaces, as if speaking to himself. Brown, the slender, +pale-faced man, was outside in the hall, pacing to and fro. All was +lost, including honor. And he was afraid to look at the ticker, afraid +to hear the prices shouted, yet hoping--for a miracle! Gil-martin came +out from the office, saw Brown and said, with sickly bravado: “I held +out as long as I could. But they got _my_ ducats. A sporting life comes +high, I tell you!” But Brown did not heed him, and Gilmartin pushed the +elevator button impatiently and cursed at the delay. He not only had +lost the “paper” profits he had accumulated during the bull market, but +all his savings of years had crumbled away beneath the strokes of the +ticker that day. It was the same with all. They would not take a small +loss at first, but had held on, in the hope of a recovery that would +“let them out even.” And prices had sunk and sunk until the loss was +so great that it seemed only proper to hold on, if need be a year, for +sooner or later prices must come back. But the break “shook them out,” + and prices went just so much lower because so many people had to sell +whether they would or not. + + + + +IV + +After the slump most of the customers returned to their legitimate +business--sadder, but it is to be feared not much wiser men. Gilmartin, +after the first numbing shock, tried to learn of fresh opportunities in +the drug business. But his heart was not in his search. There was the +shame of confessing defeat in Wall Street so soon after leaving Maiden +Lane; but far stronger than this was the effect of the poison of +gambling. If it was bad enough to be obliged to begin lower than he had +been at Maxwell & Kip’s, it was worse to condemn himself to long weary +years of work in the drug business when his reward, if he remained +strong and healthy, would consist merely in being able to save a few +thousands. But a few lucky weeks in the stock market would win him back +all he had lost--and more! + +He should have begun in a small way while he was learning to speculate. +He saw it now very clearly. Every one of his mistakes had been due to +inexperience. He had imagined he knew the market. But it was only now +that he really knew it, and therefore it was only now, after the slump +had taught him so much, that he could reasonably hope to succeed. His +mind, brooding over his losses, definitely dismissed as futile the +resumption of the purchase and sale of drugs, and dwelt persistently on +the sudden acquisition of stock market wisdom. Properly applied, this +wisdom ought to mean much to him. In a few weeks he was again spending +his days before the quotation board, gossiping with those customers who +had survived, giving and receiving advice. And as time passed the grip +of Wall Street on his soul grew stronger until it strangled all other +aspirations. He could talk, think, dream of nothing but stocks. He could +not read the newspapers without thinking how the market would “take” the +news contained therein. If a huge refinery burned down, with a loss to +the “Trust” of $4,000,000, he sighed because he had not foreseen the +catastrophe and had sold Sugar short. If a strike by the men of the +Suburban Trolley Company led to violence and destruction of life and +property, he cursed an unrelenting Fate because he had not had the +prescience to “put out” a thousand shares of Trolley. And he constantly +calculated to the last fraction of a point how much money he would +have made if he had sold short just before the calamity at the very top +prices and had covered his stock at the bottom. Had he only known! The +atmosphere of the Street, the odor of speculation surrounded him on all +sides, enveloped him like a fog, from which the things of the outside +world appeared as though seen through a veil. He lived in the district +where men do not say “Good-morning” on meeting one another, but “How’s +the market?” or, when one asks: “How do you feel?” receives for an +answer: “Bullish!” or “Bearish!” instead of a reply regarding the state +of health. + +At first, after the fatal slump, Gilmartin importuned his brokers to +let him speculate on credit, in a small way. They did. They were kindly +enough men and sincerely wished to help him. But luck ran against him. +With the obstinacy of unsuperstitious gamblers he insisted on fighting +Fate. He was a bull in a bear market; and the more he lost the more +he thought the inevitable “rally” in prices was due. He bought in +expectation of it and lost again and again, until he owed the brokers a +greater sum than he could possibly pay; and they refused point blank to +give him credit for another cent, disregarding his vehement entreaties +to buy a last hundred, just one more chance, the last, because he would +be sure to win. And, of course, the long-expected happened and the +market went up with a rapidity that made the Street blink; and Gilmartin +figured that had not the brokers refused his last order, he would have +made enough to pay off the indebtedness and have left, in addition, +$2,950; for he would have “pyramided” on the way up. He showed the +brokers his figures, accusingly, and they had some words about it and +he left the office, almost tempted to sue the firm for conspiracy +with intent to defraud; but decided that it was “another of Luck’s +sockdolagers” and let it go at that, gambler-like. + +When he returned to the brokers’ office--the next day--he began to +speculate in the only way he could--vicariously. Smith, for instance, +who was long of 500 St. Paul at 125, took less interest in the deal than +did Gilmartin, who thenceforth assiduously studied the news slips +and sought information on St. Paul all over the Street, listening +thrillingly to tips and rumors regarding the stock, suffering keenly +when the price declined, laughing and chirruping blithely if the +quotations moved upward, exactly as though it were his own stock. In a +measure it was as an anodyne to his ticker fever. Indeed, in some cases +his interest was so poignant and his advice so frequent--he would speak +of _our_ deal--that the lucky winner gave him a small share of his +spoils, which Gilmartin accepted without hesitation--he was beyond +pride-wounding by now--and promptly used to back some miniature deal +of his own on the Consolidated Exchange or even in “Percy’s”--a dingy +little bucket shop, where they took orders for two shares of stock on +a margin of 1 per cent; that is, where a man could bet as little as two +dollars. + +Later, it often came to pass that Gilmartin would borrow a few dollars +when the customers were not trading actively. The amounts he borrowed +diminished by reason of the increasing frequency of their refusals. +Finally, he was asked to stay away from the office where once he had +been an honored and pampered customer. + +He became a Wall Street “has been” and could be seen daily on New +Street, back of the Consolidated Exchange, where the “put” and “call” + brokers congregate. The tickers in the saloons nearby fed his gambler’s +appetite. From time to time luckier men took him into the same +be-tickered saloons, where he ate at the free lunch counters and drank +beer and talked stocks and listened to the lucky winners’ narratives +with lips tremulous with readiness to smile and grimace. At times the +gambler in him would assert itself and he would tell the lucky winners, +wrathfully, how the stock he wished to buy but couldn’t the week before +had risen 18 points. But they, saturated with their own ticker fever, +would nod absently, their soul’s eyes fixed on some quotation-to-be; or +they would not nod at all, but in their eagerness to look at the tape, +from which they had been absent two long minutes, would leave him +without a single word of consolation or even of farewell. + + + + +V + +One day, in New Street, he overheard a very well-known broker tell +another that Mr. Sharpe was “going to move up Pennsylvania Central right +away.” The overhearing of the conversation was a bit of rare good luck +that raised Gil-martin from his sodden apathy and made him hasten to his +brother-in-law, who kept a grocery store in Brooklyn. He implored Griggs +to go to a broker and buy as much Pennsylvania Central as he could--that +is, if he wished to live in luxury the rest of his life. Sam Sharpe was +going to put it up. Also, he borrowed ten dollars. + +Griggs was tempted. He debated with himself many hours, and at length +yielded with misgivings. He took his savings and bought one hundred +shares of Pennsylvania Central at 64, and began to neglect his business +in order to study the financial pages of the newspapers. Little by +little Gilmartin’s whisper set in motion within him the wheels of a +ticker that printed on his day-dreams the mark of the dollar. His wife, +seeing him preoccupied, thought business was bad; but Griggs denied +it, confirming her worst fears. Finally, he had a telephone put in his +little shop, to be able to talk to his broker. + +Gilmartin, with the ten dollars he had borrowed, promptly bought ten +shares in a bucket shop at 63%; the stock promptly went to 62%; he was +promptly “wiped”; and the stock promptly went back to 64%. + +On the next day a fellow-customer of Gilmartin of old days invited him +to have a drink. Gil-martin resented the man’s evident prosperity. He +felt indignant at the ability of the other to buy hundreds of shares. +But the liquor soothed him, and in a burst of mild remorse he told +Smithers, after an apprehensive look about him as if he feared some one +might overhear: “I’ll tell you something, on the dead q. t., for your +own benefit.” + +“Fire away!” + +“Pa. Cent, is going ‘way up.” + +“Yes?” said Smithers, calmly. + +“Yes; it will cross par sure.” + +“Umph!” between munches of a pretzel. + +“Yes. Sam Sharpe told”--Gilmartin was on the point of saying a “friend +of mine,” but caught himself and went on, impressively--“told me, +yesterday, to buy Pa. Cent., as he had accumulated his full line, and +was ready to whoop it up. And you know what Sharpe is,” he finished, as +if he thought Smithers was familiar with Sharpe’s powers. + +“Is that so,” nibbled Smithers. + +“Why, when Sharpe makes up his mind to put up a stock, as he intends to +do with Pa. Cent., nothing on earth can stop him. He told me he would +make it cross par within sixty days. This is no hearsay, no tip. It’s +cold facts, I don’t _hear_ it’s going up; I don’t _think_ it’s going up; +I _know_ it’s going up. Understand?” And he shook his right forefinger +with a hammering motion. + +In less than five minutes Smithers was so wrought up that he bought 500 +shares and promised solemnly not to “take his profits,” s. o. sell out, +until Gilmartin said the word. Then they had another drink and another +look at the ticker. + +“You want to keep in touch with me,” was Gilmartin’s parting shot. +“I’ll tell you what Sharpe tells me. But you must keep it quiet,” with a +sidewise nod that pledged Smithers to honorable secrecy. + +Had Gilmartin met Sharpe face to face, he would not have known who was +before him. + +Shortly after he left Smithers he buttonholed another acquaintance, +a young man who thought he knew Wall Street, and therefore had a +hobby--manipulation. No one could induce him to buy stocks by telling +him how well the companies were doing, how bright the prospects, etc. +That was bait for “suckers,” not for clever young stock operators. +But any one, even a stranger, who said that “they”--the perennially +mysterious “they,” the “big men,” the mighty “manipulators” whose +life was one prolonged conspiracy to pull the wool over the public’s +eyes--“they” were going to “jack up” these or the other shares, was +welcomed and his advice acted upon. Young Freeman believed in nothing +but “their” wickedness and “their” power to advance or depress stock +values at will. Thinking of his wisdom had given him a chronic sneer. + +“You’re just the man I was looking for,” said Gilmartin, who hadn’t +thought of the young man at all. + +“Are you a deputy sheriff?” + +“No.” A slight pause for oratorical effect. “I had a long talk with Sam +to-day.” + +“What Sam?” + +“Sharpe. The old boy sent for me. He was in mighty good humor +too. Tickled to death. He might well be--he’s got 60,000 shares of +Pennsylvania Central. And there’s going to be from 50 to 60 points +profit in it.” + +“H’m!” sniffed Freeman, sceptically, yet impressed by the change In +Gilmartin’s attitude from the money-borrowing humility of the previous +week to the confident tone of a man with a straight tip. Sharpe was +notoriously kind to his old friends--rich or poor. + +“I was there when the papers were signed,” Gilmartin said, hotly. “I +was going to leave the room, but Sam told me I needn’t. I can’t tell you +what it is about; really I can’t. But he’s simply going to put the stock +above par. It’s 64 1/2 now, and you know and I know that by the time it +is 75 the newspapers will all be talking about inside buying; and at 85 +everybody will want to buy it on account of important developments; and +at 95 there will be millions of bull tips on it and rumors of increased +dividends, and people who would not look at it thirty points lower will +rush in and buy it by the bushel. Let me know who is manipulating a +stock, and to h--l with dividends and earnings. Them’s _my_ sentiments,” + with a final hammering nod, as if driving in a profound truth. + +“Same here,” assented Freeman, cordially. He was attacked on his +vulnerable side. + +Strange things happen in Wall Street. Sometimes tips come true. It so +proved in this case. Sharpe started the stock upward brilliantly--the +movement became historic in the Street--and Pa. Cent, soared dizzily and +all the newspapers talked of it and the public went mad over it and +it touched 80 and 85 and 88 and higher, and then Gilmartin made his +brother-in-law sell out and Smithers and Freeman. Their profits were: +Griggs, $8,000; Smithers, $15,100; Freeman, $2,750. Gilmartin made them +give him a good percentage. He had no trouble with his brother-in-law. +Gilmartin told him it was an inviolable Wall Street custom and so Griggs +paid, with an air of much experience in such matters. Freeman was more +or less grateful. But Smithers met Gilmartin, and full of his good luck +repeated what he had told a dozen men within the hour: “I did a dandy +stroke the other day. Pa. Cent. looked to me like higher prices and I +bought a wad of it. I’ve cleaned up a tidy sum,” and he looked proud of +his own penetration. He really had forgotten that it was Gilmartin who +had given him the tip. But not so Gilmartin, who retorted, witheringly: + +“Well, I’ve often heard of folks that you put into good things and they +make money and afterward they come to you and tell how damned smart +they were to hit it right. But you can’t work that on me. I’ve got +witnesses.” + +“Witnesses?” echoed Smithers, looking cheap. He remembered. + +“Yes, wit-ness-es,” mimicked Gilmartin, scornfully, “I all but had to +get on my knees to make you buy it. And I told you when to sell it, too. +The information came to me straight from headquarters and you got +the use of it, and now the least you can do is to give me twenty-five +hundred dollars.” + +In the end he accepted eight hundred dollars. He told mutual friends +that Smithers had cheated him. + + + + +VI + +It seemed as though the regeneration of Gilmartin had been achieved +when he changed his shabby raiment for expensive clothes. He paid his +tradesmen’s bills and moved into better quarters. He spent his money as +though he had made millions. One week after he had closed out the deal +his friends would have sworn Gilmartin had always been prosperous. That +was his exterior. His inner self remained the same--a gambler. He began +to speculate again, in the office of Freeman’s brokers. + +At the end of the second month he had lost not only the $1,200 he had +deposited with the firm, but an additional $250 he had given his wife +and had been obliged to “borrow” back from her, despite her assurances +that he would lose it. This time the slump was really unexpected by +all, even by the magnates--the mysterious and all-powerful “they” of +Freeman’s--so that the loss of the second fortune did not reflect on +Gilmartin’s ability as a speculator, but on his luck. As a matter +of fact, he had been too careful and had sinned from over-timidity at +first, only to plunge later and lose all. + +As the result of much thought about his losses Gilmartin became a +professional tipster. To let others speculate for him seemed the only +sure way of winning. He began by advising ten victims--he learned in +time to call them clients--to sell Steel Rod preferred, each man 100 +shares; and to a second ten he urged the purchase of the same quantity +of the same stock. To all he advised taking four points’ profit. Not all +followed his advice, but the seven clients who sold it made between them +nearly $3,000 overnight. His percentage amounted to $287.50. Six bought, +and when they lost he told them confidentially how the treachery of a +leading member of the pool had obliged the pool managers to withdraw +their support from the stock temporarily, whence the decline. They +grumbled; but he assured them that he himself had lost nearly $1,600 of +his own on account of the traitor. + +For some months Gilmartin made a fair living, but business became very +dull. People learned to fight shy of his tips. The persuasiveness was +gone from his inside news and from his confidential advice from Sharpe +and from his beholding with his own eyes the signing of epoch-making +documents. Had he been able to make his customers alternate their +winnings and losses he might have kept his trade. But, for example, +“Dave” Rossiter, in Stuart & Stern’s office, stupidly received the +wrong tip six times in succession. It wasn’t Gilmartin’s fault, but +Rossiter’s bad luck. + +At length, failing to get enough clients in the ticker district itself, +Gilmartin was forced to advertise in an afternoon paper, six times a +week, and in the Sunday edition of one of the leading morning dailies. +They ran like this: + + WE MAKE MONEY + + for our Investors by the best system ever devised. Deal with + genuine experts. Two methods of operating; one speculative, + the other ensures absolute safety. + + + NOW + + is the time to invest in a certain stock for ten points sure + profit Three points margin will carry it. Remember how + correct we have been on other stocks. Take advantage of + this move. + + + IOWA MIDLAND. + + Big movement coming in this stock. If s very near at hand. + Am waiting daily for word. Will get it in time. Splendid + opportunity to make big money. It costs only a 2-cent stamp + to write to me. + + + CONFIDENTIAL INFORMATION. + + Private secretary of banker and stock operator of world-wide + reputation has valuable information. I don’t wish your + money. Use your own broker. All I want is a share of what + you will surely make if you follow my advice. + + + WILL ADVANCE $40 PER SHARE. + + A fortune to be made in a railroad stock. Deal pending which + will advance same $40 per share within three months. Am in + position to keep informed as to developments and the + operations of a pool. Parties who will carry for me 100 + shares with a New York Stock Exchange house will receive the + full benefit of information. Investment safe and sure. + Highest references given. + +He prospered amazingly. Answers came to him from furniture dealers on +Fourth Avenue and dairymen up the State and fruit growers in Delaware +and factory workers in Massachusetts and electricians in New Jersey and +coal miners in Pennsylvania and shopkeepers and physicians and plumbers +and undertakers in towns and cities near and far. Every morning +Gilmartin telegraphed to scores of people--at their expense--to sell, +and to scores of others to buy the same stocks. And he claimed his +commissions from the winners. + +Little by little his savings grew; and with them grew his desire to +speculate on his own account. It made him irritable not to gamble. + +He met Freeman one day in one of his dissatisfied moods. Out of +politeness he asked the young cynic the universal query of the Street: + +“What do you think of ‘em?” He meant stocks. + +“What difference does it make what I think?” sneered Freeman, with +proud humility. “I’m nobody.” But he looked as if he did not agree with +himself. + +“What do you _know?_” pursued Gilmartin mollifyingly. + +“I know enough to be long of Gotham Gas. I just bought a thousand shares +at 180.” He really had bought a hundred only. + +“What on?” + +“On information. I got it straight from a director of the company. Look +here, Gilmartin, I’m pledged to secrecy. But, for your own benefit, I’ll +just tell you to buy all the Gas you possibly can carry. The deal is on. +I know that certain papers were signed last night, and they are almost +ready to spring it on the public. They haven’t got all the stock they +want. When they get it, look out for fireworks.” + +Gilmartin did not perceive any resemblance between Freeman’s tips and +his own. + +He said, hesitatingly, as though ashamed of his timidity: + +“The stock seems pretty high at 180.” + +“You won’t think so when it sells at 250. Gilmartin, I don’t _hear_ +this; I don’t _think_ it; I _know_ it!” + +“All right; I’m in,” quoth Gilmartin, jovially. He felt a sense of +emancipation now that he had made up his mind to resume his speculating. +He took every cent of the nine hundred dollars he had made from telling +people the same things that Freeman told him now, and bought a hundred +Gotham Gas at $185 a share. Also he telegraphed to all his clients to +plunge in the stock. + +It fluctuated between 184 and 186 for a fortnight. Freeman daily +asseverated that “they” were accumulating the stock. But, one fine day, +the directors met, agreed that business was bad, and having sold out +most of their own holdings, decided to reduce the dividend rate from 8 +to 6 per cent. Gotham Gas broke seventeen points in ten short minutes. +Gilmartin lost all he had. He found it impossible to pay for his +advertisements. The telegraph companies refused to accept any more +“collect” messages. This deprived Gilmartin of his income as a tipster. +Griggs had kept on speculating and had lost all his money and his wife’s +in a little deal in Iowa Midland. All that Gilmartin could hope to get +from him was an occasional invitation to dinner. Mrs. Gilmartin, after +they were dispossessed for non-payment of rent, left her husband, and +went to live with a sister in Newark who did not like Gilmartin. + +His clothes became shabby and his meals irregular. But always in his +heart, as abiding as an inventor’s faith in himself, there dwelt the +hope that some day, somehow, he would “strike it rich” in the stock +market. + +One day he borrowed five dollars from a man who had made five thousand +in Cosmopolitan Traction. The stock, the man said, had only begun to go +up, and Gilmartin believed it and bought five shares in “Percy’s,” his +favorite bucket shop. The stock began to rise slowly but steadily. The +next afternoon “Percy’s” was raided, the proprietor having disagreed +with the police as to price. + +Gilmartin lingered about New Street, talking with other customers of the +raided bucket shop, discussing whether or not it was a “put up job” of +old Percy himself, who, it was known, had been losing money to the crowd +for weeks past. One by one the victims went away and at length Gilmartin +left the ticker district. He walked slowly down Wall Street, then turned +up William Street, thinking of his luck. Cosmopolitan Traction had +certainly looked like higher prices. Indeed, it seemed to him that he +could almost hear the stock shouting, articulately: “_I’m going up, right +away, right away!_” If somebody would buy a thousand shares and agree to +give him the profits on a hundred, on ten, on one! + +But he had not even his carfare. Then he remembered that he had not +eaten since breakfast. It did him no good to remember it now. He would +have to get his dinner from Griggs in Brooklyn. + +“Why,” Gilmartin told himself with a burst of curious self-contempt, “I +can’t even buy a cup of coffee!” + +He raised his head and looked about him to find how insignificant a +restaurant it was in which he could not buy even a cup of coffee. He +had reached Maiden Lane. As his glance ran up and down the north side of +that street, it was arrested by the sign: + + MAXWELL & KIP + +At first he felt but vaguely what it meant. It had grown unfamiliar +with absence. The clerks were coming out. Jameson, looking crustier than +ever, as though he were forever thinking how much better than Jenkins he +could run the business; Danny, some inches taller, no longer an office +boy, but spick and span in a blue serge suit and a necktie of the latest +style, exhaling health and correctness; Williamson, grown very gray and +showing on his face thirty years of routine; Baldwin, happy as of +yore at the ending of the day’s work, and smiling at the words of +Jenkins--Gilmartin’s successor, who wore an air of authority, of the +habit of command which he had not known in the old days. + +Of a sudden Gilmartin was in the midst of his old life. He saw all that +he had been, all that he might still be. And he was overwhelmed. He +longed to rush to his old associates, to speak to them, to shake hands +with them, to be the old Gilmartin. He was about to step toward Jenkins, +but stopped abruptly. His clothes were shabby, and he felt ashamed. But, +he apologized to himself, he could tell them how he had made a hundred +thousand and had lost it. And he even might borrow a few dollars from +Jenkins. + +Gilmartin turned on his heel with a sudden impulse and walked away from +Maiden Lane quickly. All that he thought now was that he would not +have them see him in his plight. He felt the shabbiness of his clothes +without looking at them. As he walked, a great sense of loneliness came +over him. + +He was back in Wall Street. At the head of the Street was old Trinity; +to the right the Sub-Treasury; to the left the Stock Exchange. + +From Maiden Lane to the Lane of the Ticker--such had been his life. + +“If I could only buy some Cosmopolitan Traction!” he said. Then he +walked forlornly northward, to the great bridge, on his way to Brooklyn, +to eat with Griggs, the ruined grocery man. + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Tipster, by Edwin Lefevre + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TIPSTER *** + +***** This file should be named 23171-0.txt or 23171-0.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/3/1/7/23171/ + +Produced by David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Tipster + 1901, From "Wall Street Stories" + +Author: Edwin Lefevre + +Release Date: October 24, 2007 [EBook #23171] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TIPSTER *** + + + + +Produced by David Widger + + + + + + +THE TIPSTER + +By Edwin Lefevre + +From "Wall Street Stories." Copyright, 1901, by McClure, Phillips & Co. + + + + +I + +Glmartin was still laughing professionally at the prospective buyer's +funny story when the telephone on his desk buzzed. He said: "Excuse me +for a minute, old man," to the customer--Hopkins, the Connecticut +manufacturer. + +"Hello; who is this?" he spoke into the transmitter. "Oh, how are +you?--Yes--I was out--Is that so?--Too bad--Too bad--Yes; just my luck +to be out. I might have known it!--Do you think so?--Well, then, sell +the 200 Occidental common--You know best--What about Trolley?--Hold +on?--All right; just as you say--I hope so--I don't like to lose, +and--Ha! ha!--I guess so--Good-by." + +"It's from my brokers," explained Gilmartin, hanging up the receiver. +"I'd have saved five hundred dollars if I had been here at half-past +ten. They called me up to advise me to sell out, and the price is off +over three points. I could have got out at a profit this morning; but +no, sir; not I. I had to be away, trying to buy some camphor." + +Hopkins was impressed. Gilmartin perceived it and went on, with an air +of comical wrath which he thought was preferable to indifference: "It +isn't the money I mind so much as the tough luck of it. I didn't make my +trade in camphor after all and I lost in stocks, when if I'd only waited +five minutes more in the office I'd have got the message from my brokers +and saved my five hundred. Expensive, my time is, eh?" with a woful +shake of the head. + +"But you're ahead of the game, aren't you?" asked the customer, +interestedly. + +"Well, I guess yes. Just about twelve thousand." + +That was more than Gilmartin had made; but having exaggerated, he +immediately felt very kindly disposed toward the Connecticut man. + +"Whew!" whistled Hopkins, admiringly. Gilmartin experienced a great +tenderness toward him. The lie was made stingless by the customer's +credulity. This brought a smile of subtle relief to Gilmartin's lips. +He was a pleasant-faced, pleasant-voiced man of three-and-thirty. He +exhaled health, contentment, neatness, and an easy conscience. Honesty +and good-nature shone in his eyes. People liked to shake hands with him. +It made his friends talk of his lucky star; and they envied him. + +"I bought this yesterday for my wife; took it out of a little deal in +Trolley," he told Hopkins, taking a small jewel-box from one of the +desk's drawers. It contained a diamond ring, somewhat showy, but +obviously quite expensive. Hopkins's semi-envious admiration made +Gilmartin add, genially: "What do you say to lunch? I feel I am entitled +to a glass of 'fizz' to forget my bad luck of this morning." Then, in +an exaggeratedly apologetic tone: "Nobody likes to lose five hundred +dollars on an empty stomach!" + +"She'll be delighted, of course," said Hopkins, thinking of Mrs. +Gilmartin. Mrs. Hopkins loved jewelry. + +"She's the nicest little woman that ever lived. Whatever is mine is +hers; and what's hers is her own. Ha! ha! But," becoming nicely serious, +"all that I'll make out of the stock market I'm going to put away for +her, in her name. She can take better care of it than I; and, besides, +she's entitled to it, anyhow, for being so nice to me." + +That is how he told what a good husband he was. He felt so pleased over +it that he went on, sincerely regretful: "She's visiting friends +in Pennsylvania or I'd ask you to dine with us." And they went to a +fashionable restaurant together. + +Day after day Gilmartin thought persistently that Maiden Lane was too +far from Wall Street. There came a week in which he could have made four +very handsome "turns" had he but been in the brokers' office. He was out +on business for his firm and when he returned the opportunity had +gone, leaving behind it vivid visions of what might have been; also the +conviction that time, tide, and the ticker wait for no man. Instead of +buying and selling quinine and balsams and essential oils for Maxwell +& Kip, drug brokers and importers, he decided to make the buying and +selling of stocks and bonds his exclusive business. The hours were easy; +the profits would be great. He would make enough to live on. He would +not let the Street take away what it had given. That was the great +secret: to know when to quit! He would be content with a moderate +amount, wisely invested in gilt-edged bonds. And then he would bid the +Street good-by forever. + +Force of long business custom and the indefinable fear of new ventures +for a time fought successfully his increasing ticker-fever. But one day +his brokers wished to speak to him, to urge him to sell out his entire +holdings, having been advised of an epoch-making resolution by Congress. +They had received the news in advance from a Washington customer. Other +brokers had important connections in the Capital and therefore there was +no time to lose. They dared not assume the responsibilty of selling +him out without his permission. Five minutes--five eternities!--passed +before they could talk by telephone with him; and when he gave his order +to sell, the market had broken five or six points. The news was "out." +The news agencies' slips were in the brokers' offices and half of Wall +Street knew. Instead of being among the first ten sellers Gilmartin was +among the second hundred. + + + + +II + +The clerks gave him a farewell dinner. All were there, even the head +office-boy to whom the two-dollar subscription was no light matter. The +man who probably would succeed Gilmartin as manager, Jenkins, acted as +toastmaster. He made a witty speech which ended with a neatly turned +compliment. Moreover, he seemed sincerely sorry to bid good-by to the +man whose departure meant promotion--which was the nicest compliment of +all. And the other clerks--old Williamson, long since ambition-proof; +and young Hardy, bitten ceaselessly by it; and middle-aged Jameson, who +knew he could run the business much better than Gilmartin; and Baldwin, +who never thought of business in or out of the office--all told him how +good he had been and related corroborative anecdotes that made him blush +and the others cheer; and how sorry they were he would no longer be with +them, but how glad he was going to do so much better by himself; and +they hoped he would not "cut" them when he met them after he had become +a great millionaire. And Gilmartin felt his heart grow soft and feelings +not all of happiness came over him. Danny, the dean of the office boys, +whose surname was known only to the cashier, rose and said, in the tones +of one speaking of a dear departed friend: "He was the best man in the +place. He always was all right." Everybody laughed; whereupon Danny went +on, with a defiant glare at the others: "I'd work for him for nothin' if +he'd want me, instead of gettin' ten a week from any one else." And when +they laughed the harder at this he said, stoutly: "Yes, I would!" His +eyes filled with tears at their incredulity, which he feared might be +shared by Mr. Gilmartin. But the toastmaster rose very gravely and said: +"What's the matter with Danny?" And all shouted in unison: "He's all +right!" with a cordiality so heartfelt that Danny smiled and sat down, +blushing happily. And crusty Jameson, who knew he could run the business +so much better than Gilmartin, stood up--he was the last speaker--and +began: "In the ten years I've worked with Gilmartin, we've had our +differences and--well--I--well--er--oh, damn it!" and walked quickly to +the head of the table and shook hands violently with Gilmartin for fully +a minute, while all the others looked on in silence. + +Gilmartin had been eager to go to Wall Street. But this leave-taking +made him sad. The old Gilmartin who had worked with these men was no +more and the new Gilmartin felt sorry. He had never stopped to think how +much they cared for him nor indeed how very much he cared for them. + +He told them, very simply, he did not expect ever again to spend such +pleasant years anywhere as at the old office; and as for his spells of +ill-temper--oh, yes, they needn't shake their heads; he knew he often +was irritable--he had meant well and trusted they would forgive him. If +he had his life to live over again he would try really to deserve all +that they had said of him on this evening. And he was very, very sorry +to leave them. "Very sorry, boys; very sorry. _Very_ sorry!" he finished +lamely, with a wistful smile. He shook hands with each man--a strong +grip, as though he were about to go on a journey from which he might +never return--and in his heart of hearts there was a new doubt of the +wisdom of going to Wall Street. But it was too late to draw back. + +They escorted him to his house. They wished to be with him to the last +possible minute. + + + + +III + +Everybody in the drug trade seemed to think that Gilmartin was on +the highroad to Fortune. Those old business acquaintances and former +competitors whom he happened to meet in the street-cars or in the +theatre lobbies always spoke to him as to a millionaire-to-be, in what +they imagined was correct Wall Street jargon, to show him that they too +knew something of the great game. But their efforts made him smile with +a sense of superiority, at the same time that their admiration for his +cleverness and their good-natured envy for his luck made his soul thrill +joyously. Among his new friends in Wall Street also he found much to +enjoy. The other customers--some of them very wealthy men--listened to +his views regarding the market as attentively as he, later, felt it his +polite duty to listen to theirs. The brokers themselves treated him as +a "good fellow." They cajoled him into trading often--every one hundred +shares he bought or sold meant $12.50 to them--and when he won, they +praised his unerring discernment. When he lost they soothed him by +scolding him for his recklessness--just as a mother will treat her +three-year-old's fall as a great joke in order to deceive the child into +laughing at its misfortune. It was an average office with an average +clientle. + +From ten to three they stood before the quotation board and watched a +quick-witted boy chalk the price changes, which one or another of the +customers read aloud from the tape as it came from the ticker. The +higher stocks went the more numerous the customers became, being allured +in great flocks to the Street by the tales of their friends, who had +profited greatly by the rise. All were winning, for all were buying +stocks in a bull market. They resembled each other marvelously, these +men who differed so greatly in cast of features and complexion and age. +Life to all of them was full of joy. The very ticker sounded mirthful; +its clicking told of golden jokes. And Gilmartin and the other customers +laughed heartily at the mildest of stories without even waiting for the +point of the joke. At times their fingers clutched the air happily, as +if they actually felt the good money the ticker was presenting to them. +They were all neophytes at the great game--lambkins who were bleating +blithely to inform the world what clever and formidable wolves they +were. Some of them had sustained occasional losses; but these were +trifling compared with their winnings. + +When the slump came all were heavily committed to the bull side. It was +a bad slump. It was so unexpected--by the lambs--that all of them said, +very gravely, it came like a thunderclap out of a clear sky. While it +lasted, that is, while the shearing of the flock was proceeding, it +was very uncomfortable. Those same joyous, winning stock-gamblers, +with beaming faces, of the week before, were fear-clutched, losing +stock-gamblers, with livid faces, on what they afterward called the day +of the panic. It really was only a slump; rather sharper than usual. +Too many lambs had been over-speculating. The wholesale dealers in +securities--and insecurities--held very little of their own wares, +having sold them to the lambs, and wanted them back now--cheaper. The +customers' eyes, as on happier days, were intent on the quotation board. +Their dreams were rudely shattered; the fast horses some had all +but bought joined the steam yachts others almost had chartered. The +beautiful homes they had been building were torn down in the twinkling +of an eye. And the demolisher of dreams and dwellings was the ticker, +that instead of golden jokes was now clicking financial death. They +could not take their eyes from the board before them. Their own ruin, +told in mournful numbers by the little machine, fascinated them. To be +sure, poor Gilmartin said: "I've changed my mind about Newport. I guess +I'll spend the summer on my own _Hotel de Roof!_" And he grinned; but +he grinned alone. Wilson, the dry goods man, who laughed so joyously at +everybody's jokes, was now watching, as if under a hypnotic spell, the +lips of the man who sat on the high stool beside the ticker and called +out the prices to the quotation boy. Now and again Wilson's own lips +made curious grimaces, as if speaking to himself. Brown, the slender, +pale-faced man, was outside in the hall, pacing to and fro. All was +lost, including honor. And he was afraid to look at the ticker, afraid +to hear the prices shouted, yet hoping--for a miracle! Gil-martin came +out from the office, saw Brown and said, with sickly bravado: "I held +out as long as I could. But they got _my_ ducats. A sporting life comes +high, I tell you!" But Brown did not heed him, and Gilmartin pushed the +elevator button impatiently and cursed at the delay. He not only had +lost the "paper" profits he had accumulated during the bull market, but +all his savings of years had crumbled away beneath the strokes of the +ticker that day. It was the same with all. They would not take a small +loss at first, but had held on, in the hope of a recovery that would +"let them out even." And prices had sunk and sunk until the loss was +so great that it seemed only proper to hold on, if need be a year, for +sooner or later prices must come back. But the break "shook them out," +and prices went just so much lower because so many people had to sell +whether they would or not. + + + + +IV + +After the slump most of the customers returned to their legitimate +business--sadder, but it is to be feared not much wiser men. Gilmartin, +after the first numbing shock, tried to learn of fresh opportunities in +the drug business. But his heart was not in his search. There was the +shame of confessing defeat in Wall Street so soon after leaving Maiden +Lane; but far stronger than this was the effect of the poison of +gambling. If it was bad enough to be obliged to begin lower than he had +been at Maxwell & Kip's, it was worse to condemn himself to long weary +years of work in the drug business when his reward, if he remained +strong and healthy, would consist merely in being able to save a few +thousands. But a few lucky weeks in the stock market would win him back +all he had lost--and more! + +He should have begun in a small way while he was learning to speculate. +He saw it now very clearly. Every one of his mistakes had been due to +inexperience. He had imagined he knew the market. But it was only now +that he really knew it, and therefore it was only now, after the slump +had taught him so much, that he could reasonably hope to succeed. His +mind, brooding over his losses, definitely dismissed as futile the +resumption of the purchase and sale of drugs, and dwelt persistently on +the sudden acquisition of stock market wisdom. Properly applied, this +wisdom ought to mean much to him. In a few weeks he was again spending +his days before the quotation board, gossiping with those customers who +had survived, giving and receiving advice. And as time passed the grip +of Wall Street on his soul grew stronger until it strangled all other +aspirations. He could talk, think, dream of nothing but stocks. He could +not read the newspapers without thinking how the market would "take" the +news contained therein. If a huge refinery burned down, with a loss to +the "Trust" of $4,000,000, he sighed because he had not foreseen the +catastrophe and had sold Sugar short. If a strike by the men of the +Suburban Trolley Company led to violence and destruction of life and +property, he cursed an unrelenting Fate because he had not had the +prescience to "put out" a thousand shares of Trolley. And he constantly +calculated to the last fraction of a point how much money he would +have made if he had sold short just before the calamity at the very top +prices and had covered his stock at the bottom. Had he only known! The +atmosphere of the Street, the odor of speculation surrounded him on all +sides, enveloped him like a fog, from which the things of the outside +world appeared as though seen through a veil. He lived in the district +where men do not say "Good-morning" on meeting one another, but "How's +the market?" or, when one asks: "How do you feel?" receives for an +answer: "Bullish!" or "Bearish!" instead of a reply regarding the state +of health. + +At first, after the fatal slump, Gilmartin importuned his brokers to +let him speculate on credit, in a small way. They did. They were kindly +enough men and sincerely wished to help him. But luck ran against him. +With the obstinacy of unsuperstitious gamblers he insisted on fighting +Fate. He was a bull in a bear market; and the more he lost the more +he thought the inevitable "rally" in prices was due. He bought in +expectation of it and lost again and again, until he owed the brokers a +greater sum than he could possibly pay; and they refused point blank to +give him credit for another cent, disregarding his vehement entreaties +to buy a last hundred, just one more chance, the last, because he would +be sure to win. And, of course, the long-expected happened and the +market went up with a rapidity that made the Street blink; and Gilmartin +figured that had not the brokers refused his last order, he would have +made enough to pay off the indebtedness and have left, in addition, +$2,950; for he would have "pyramided" on the way up. He showed the +brokers his figures, accusingly, and they had some words about it and +he left the office, almost tempted to sue the firm for conspiracy +with intent to defraud; but decided that it was "another of Luck's +sockdolagers" and let it go at that, gambler-like. + +When he returned to the brokers' office--the next day--he began to +speculate in the only way he could--vicariously. Smith, for instance, +who was long of 500 St. Paul at 125, took less interest in the deal than +did Gilmartin, who thenceforth assiduously studied the news slips +and sought information on St. Paul all over the Street, listening +thrillingly to tips and rumors regarding the stock, suffering keenly +when the price declined, laughing and chirruping blithely if the +quotations moved upward, exactly as though it were his own stock. In a +measure it was as an anodyne to his ticker fever. Indeed, in some cases +his interest was so poignant and his advice so frequent--he would speak +of _our_ deal--that the lucky winner gave him a small share of his +spoils, which Gilmartin accepted without hesitation--he was beyond +pride-wounding by now--and promptly used to back some miniature deal +of his own on the Consolidated Exchange or even in "Percy's"--a dingy +little bucket shop, where they took orders for two shares of stock on +a margin of 1 per cent; that is, where a man could bet as little as two +dollars. + +Later, it often came to pass that Gilmartin would borrow a few dollars +when the customers were not trading actively. The amounts he borrowed +diminished by reason of the increasing frequency of their refusals. +Finally, he was asked to stay away from the office where once he had +been an honored and pampered customer. + +He became a Wall Street "has been" and could be seen daily on New +Street, back of the Consolidated Exchange, where the "put" and "call" +brokers congregate. The tickers in the saloons nearby fed his gambler's +appetite. From time to time luckier men took him into the same +be-tickered saloons, where he ate at the free lunch counters and drank +beer and talked stocks and listened to the lucky winners' narratives +with lips tremulous with readiness to smile and grimace. At times the +gambler in him would assert itself and he would tell the lucky winners, +wrathfully, how the stock he wished to buy but couldn't the week before +had risen 18 points. But they, saturated with their own ticker fever, +would nod absently, their soul's eyes fixed on some quotation-to-be; or +they would not nod at all, but in their eagerness to look at the tape, +from which they had been absent two long minutes, would leave him +without a single word of consolation or even of farewell. + + + + +V + +One day, in New Street, he overheard a very well-known broker tell +another that Mr. Sharpe was "going to move up Pennsylvania Central right +away." The overhearing of the conversation was a bit of rare good luck +that raised Gil-martin from his sodden apathy and made him hasten to his +brother-in-law, who kept a grocery store in Brooklyn. He implored Griggs +to go to a broker and buy as much Pennsylvania Central as he could--that +is, if he wished to live in luxury the rest of his life. Sam Sharpe was +going to put it up. Also, he borrowed ten dollars. + +Griggs was tempted. He debated with himself many hours, and at length +yielded with misgivings. He took his savings and bought one hundred +shares of Pennsylvania Central at 64, and began to neglect his business +in order to study the financial pages of the newspapers. Little by +little Gilmartin's whisper set in motion within him the wheels of a +ticker that printed on his day-dreams the mark of the dollar. His wife, +seeing him preoccupied, thought business was bad; but Griggs denied +it, confirming her worst fears. Finally, he had a telephone put in his +little shop, to be able to talk to his broker. + +Gilmartin, with the ten dollars he had borrowed, promptly bought ten +shares in a bucket shop at 63%; the stock promptly went to 62%; he was +promptly "wiped"; and the stock promptly went back to 64%. + +On the next day a fellow-customer of Gilmartin of old days invited him +to have a drink. Gil-martin resented the man's evident prosperity. He +felt indignant at the ability of the other to buy hundreds of shares. +But the liquor soothed him, and in a burst of mild remorse he told +Smithers, after an apprehensive look about him as if he feared some one +might overhear: "I'll tell you something, on the dead q. t., for your +own benefit." + +"Fire away!" + +"Pa. Cent, is going 'way up." + +"Yes?" said Smithers, calmly. + +"Yes; it will cross par sure." + +"Umph!" between munches of a pretzel. + +"Yes. Sam Sharpe told"--Gilmartin was on the point of saying a "friend +of mine," but caught himself and went on, impressively--"told me, +yesterday, to buy Pa. Cent., as he had accumulated his full line, and +was ready to whoop it up. And you know what Sharpe is," he finished, as +if he thought Smithers was familiar with Sharpe's powers. + +"Is that so," nibbled Smithers. + +"Why, when Sharpe makes up his mind to put up a stock, as he intends to +do with Pa. Cent., nothing on earth can stop him. He told me he would +make it cross par within sixty days. This is no hearsay, no tip. It's +cold facts, I don't _hear_ it's going up; I don't _think_ it's going up; +I _know_ it's going up. Understand?" And he shook his right forefinger +with a hammering motion. + +In less than five minutes Smithers was so wrought up that he bought 500 +shares and promised solemnly not to "take his profits," s. o. sell out, +until Gilmartin said the word. Then they had another drink and another +look at the ticker. + +"You want to keep in touch with me," was Gilmartin's parting shot. +"I'll tell you what Sharpe tells me. But you must keep it quiet," with a +sidewise nod that pledged Smithers to honorable secrecy. + +Had Gilmartin met Sharpe face to face, he would not have known who was +before him. + +Shortly after he left Smithers he buttonholed another acquaintance, +a young man who thought he knew Wall Street, and therefore had a +hobby--manipulation. No one could induce him to buy stocks by telling +him how well the companies were doing, how bright the prospects, etc. +That was bait for "suckers," not for clever young stock operators. +But any one, even a stranger, who said that "they"--the perennially +mysterious "they," the "big men," the mighty "manipulators" whose +life was one prolonged conspiracy to pull the wool over the public's +eyes--"they" were going to "jack up" these or the other shares, was +welcomed and his advice acted upon. Young Freeman believed in nothing +but "their" wickedness and "their" power to advance or depress stock +values at will. Thinking of his wisdom had given him a chronic sneer. + +"You're just the man I was looking for," said Gilmartin, who hadn't +thought of the young man at all. + +"Are you a deputy sheriff?" + +"No." A slight pause for oratorical effect. "I had a long talk with Sam +to-day." + +"What Sam?" + +"Sharpe. The old boy sent for me. He was in mighty good humor +too. Tickled to death. He might well be--he's got 60,000 shares of +Pennsylvania Central. And there's going to be from 50 to 60 points +profit in it." + +"H'm!" sniffed Freeman, sceptically, yet impressed by the change In +Gilmartin's attitude from the money-borrowing humility of the previous +week to the confident tone of a man with a straight tip. Sharpe was +notoriously kind to his old friends--rich or poor. + +"I was there when the papers were signed," Gilmartin said, hotly. "I +was going to leave the room, but Sam told me I needn't. I can't tell you +what it is about; really I can't. But he's simply going to put the stock +above par. It's 64 1/2 now, and you know and I know that by the time it +is 75 the newspapers will all be talking about inside buying; and at 85 +everybody will want to buy it on account of important developments; and +at 95 there will be millions of bull tips on it and rumors of increased +dividends, and people who would not look at it thirty points lower will +rush in and buy it by the bushel. Let me know who is manipulating a +stock, and to h--l with dividends and earnings. Them's _my_ sentiments," +with a final hammering nod, as if driving in a profound truth. + +"Same here," assented Freeman, cordially. He was attacked on his +vulnerable side. + +Strange things happen in Wall Street. Sometimes tips come true. It so +proved in this case. Sharpe started the stock upward brilliantly--the +movement became historic in the Street--and Pa. Cent, soared dizzily and +all the newspapers talked of it and the public went mad over it and +it touched 80 and 85 and 88 and higher, and then Gilmartin made his +brother-in-law sell out and Smithers and Freeman. Their profits were: +Griggs, $8,000; Smithers, $15,100; Freeman, $2,750. Gilmartin made them +give him a good percentage. He had no trouble with his brother-in-law. +Gilmartin told him it was an inviolable Wall Street custom and so Griggs +paid, with an air of much experience in such matters. Freeman was more +or less grateful. But Smithers met Gilmartin, and full of his good luck +repeated what he had told a dozen men within the hour: "I did a dandy +stroke the other day. Pa. Cent. looked to me like higher prices and I +bought a wad of it. I've cleaned up a tidy sum," and he looked proud of +his own penetration. He really had forgotten that it was Gilmartin who +had given him the tip. But not so Gilmartin, who retorted, witheringly: + +"Well, I've often heard of folks that you put into good things and they +make money and afterward they come to you and tell how damned smart +they were to hit it right. But you can't work that on me. I've got +witnesses." + +"Witnesses?" echoed Smithers, looking cheap. He remembered. + +"Yes, wit-ness-es," mimicked Gilmartin, scornfully, "I all but had to +get on my knees to make you buy it. And I told you when to sell it, too. +The information came to me straight from headquarters and you got +the use of it, and now the least you can do is to give me twenty-five +hundred dollars." + +In the end he accepted eight hundred dollars. He told mutual friends +that Smithers had cheated him. + + + + +VI + +It seemed as though the regeneration of Gilmartin had been achieved +when he changed his shabby raiment for expensive clothes. He paid his +tradesmen's bills and moved into better quarters. He spent his money as +though he had made millions. One week after he had closed out the deal +his friends would have sworn Gilmartin had always been prosperous. That +was his exterior. His inner self remained the same--a gambler. He began +to speculate again, in the office of Freeman's brokers. + +At the end of the second month he had lost not only the $1,200 he had +deposited with the firm, but an additional $250 he had given his wife +and had been obliged to "borrow" back from her, despite her assurances +that he would lose it. This time the slump was really unexpected by +all, even by the magnates--the mysterious and all-powerful "they" of +Freeman's--so that the loss of the second fortune did not reflect on +Gilmartin's ability as a speculator, but on his luck. As a matter +of fact, he had been too careful and had sinned from over-timidity at +first, only to plunge later and lose all. + +As the result of much thought about his losses Gilmartin became a +professional tipster. To let others speculate for him seemed the only +sure way of winning. He began by advising ten victims--he learned in +time to call them clients--to sell Steel Rod preferred, each man 100 +shares; and to a second ten he urged the purchase of the same quantity +of the same stock. To all he advised taking four points' profit. Not all +followed his advice, but the seven clients who sold it made between them +nearly $3,000 overnight. His percentage amounted to $287.50. Six bought, +and when they lost he told them confidentially how the treachery of a +leading member of the pool had obliged the pool managers to withdraw +their support from the stock temporarily, whence the decline. They +grumbled; but he assured them that he himself had lost nearly $1,600 of +his own on account of the traitor. + +For some months Gilmartin made a fair living, but business became very +dull. People learned to fight shy of his tips. The persuasiveness was +gone from his inside news and from his confidential advice from Sharpe +and from his beholding with his own eyes the signing of epoch-making +documents. Had he been able to make his customers alternate their +winnings and losses he might have kept his trade. But, for example, +"Dave" Rossiter, in Stuart & Stern's office, stupidly received the +wrong tip six times in succession. It wasn't Gilmartin's fault, but +Rossiter's bad luck. + +At length, failing to get enough clients in the ticker district itself, +Gilmartin was forced to advertise in an afternoon paper, six times a +week, and in the Sunday edition of one of the leading morning dailies. +They ran like this: + + WE MAKE MONEY + + for our Investors by the best system ever devised. Deal with + genuine experts. Two methods of operating; one speculative, + the other ensures absolute safety. + + + NOW + + is the time to invest in a certain stock for ten points sure + profit Three points margin will carry it. Remember how + correct we have been on other stocks. Take advantage of + this move. + + + IOWA MIDLAND. + + Big movement coming in this stock. If s very near at hand. + Am waiting daily for word. Will get it in time. Splendid + opportunity to make big money. It costs only a 2-cent stamp + to write to me. + + + CONFIDENTIAL INFORMATION. + + Private secretary of banker and stock operator of world-wide + reputation has valuable information. I don't wish your + money. Use your own broker. All I want is a share of what + you will surely make if you follow my advice. + + + WILL ADVANCE $40 PER SHARE. + + A fortune to be made in a railroad stock. Deal pending which + will advance same $40 per share within three months. Am in + position to keep informed as to developments and the + operations of a pool. Parties who will carry for me 100 + shares with a New York Stock Exchange house will receive the + full benefit of information. Investment safe and sure. + Highest references given. + +He prospered amazingly. Answers came to him from furniture dealers on +Fourth Avenue and dairymen up the State and fruit growers in Delaware +and factory workers in Massachusetts and electricians in New Jersey and +coal miners in Pennsylvania and shopkeepers and physicians and plumbers +and undertakers in towns and cities near and far. Every morning +Gilmartin telegraphed to scores of people--at their expense--to sell, +and to scores of others to buy the same stocks. And he claimed his +commissions from the winners. + +Little by little his savings grew; and with them grew his desire to +speculate on his own account. It made him irritable not to gamble. + +He met Freeman one day in one of his dissatisfied moods. Out of +politeness he asked the young cynic the universal query of the Street: + +"What do you think of 'em?" He meant stocks. + +"What difference does it make what I think?" sneered Freeman, with +proud humility. "I'm nobody." But he looked as if he did not agree with +himself. + +"What do you _know?_" pursued Gilmartin mollifyingly. + +"I know enough to be long of Gotham Gas. I just bought a thousand shares +at 180." He really had bought a hundred only. + +"What on?" + +"On information. I got it straight from a director of the company. Look +here, Gilmartin, I'm pledged to secrecy. But, for your own benefit, I'll +just tell you to buy all the Gas you possibly can carry. The deal is on. +I know that certain papers were signed last night, and they are almost +ready to spring it on the public. They haven't got all the stock they +want. When they get it, look out for fireworks." + +Gilmartin did not perceive any resemblance between Freeman's tips and +his own. + +He said, hesitatingly, as though ashamed of his timidity: + +"The stock seems pretty high at 180." + +"You won't think so when it sells at 250. Gilmartin, I don't _hear_ +this; I don't _think_ it; I _know_ it!" + +"All right; I'm in," quoth Gilmartin, jovially. He felt a sense of +emancipation now that he had made up his mind to resume his speculating. +He took every cent of the nine hundred dollars he had made from telling +people the same things that Freeman told him now, and bought a hundred +Gotham Gas at $185 a share. Also he telegraphed to all his clients to +plunge in the stock. + +It fluctuated between 184 and 186 for a fortnight. Freeman daily +asseverated that "they" were accumulating the stock. But, one fine day, +the directors met, agreed that business was bad, and having sold out +most of their own holdings, decided to reduce the dividend rate from 8 +to 6 per cent. Gotham Gas broke seventeen points in ten short minutes. +Gilmartin lost all he had. He found it impossible to pay for his +advertisements. The telegraph companies refused to accept any more +"collect" messages. This deprived Gilmartin of his income as a tipster. +Griggs had kept on speculating and had lost all his money and his wife's +in a little deal in Iowa Midland. All that Gilmartin could hope to get +from him was an occasional invitation to dinner. Mrs. Gilmartin, after +they were dispossessed for non-payment of rent, left her husband, and +went to live with a sister in Newark who did not like Gilmartin. + +His clothes became shabby and his meals irregular. But always in his +heart, as abiding as an inventor's faith in himself, there dwelt the +hope that some day, somehow, he would "strike it rich" in the stock +market. + +One day he borrowed five dollars from a man who had made five thousand +in Cosmopolitan Traction. The stock, the man said, had only begun to go +up, and Gilmartin believed it and bought five shares in "Percy's," his +favorite bucket shop. The stock began to rise slowly but steadily. The +next afternoon "Percy's" was raided, the proprietor having disagreed +with the police as to price. + +Gilmartin lingered about New Street, talking with other customers of the +raided bucket shop, discussing whether or not it was a "put up job" of +old Percy himself, who, it was known, had been losing money to the crowd +for weeks past. One by one the victims went away and at length Gilmartin +left the ticker district. He walked slowly down Wall Street, then turned +up William Street, thinking of his luck. Cosmopolitan Traction had +certainly looked like higher prices. Indeed, it seemed to him that he +could almost hear the stock shouting, articulately: "_I'm going up, right +away, right away!_" If somebody would buy a thousand shares and agree to +give him the profits on a hundred, on ten, on one! + +But he had not even his carfare. Then he remembered that he had not +eaten since breakfast. It did him no good to remember it now. He would +have to get his dinner from Griggs in Brooklyn. + +"Why," Gilmartin told himself with a burst of curious self-contempt, "I +can't even buy a cup of coffee!" + +He raised his head and looked about him to find how insignificant a +restaurant it was in which he could not buy even a cup of coffee. He +had reached Maiden Lane. As his glance ran up and down the north side of +that street, it was arrested by the sign: + + MAXWELL & KIP + +At first he felt but vaguely what it meant. It had grown unfamiliar +with absence. The clerks were coming out. Jameson, looking crustier than +ever, as though he were forever thinking how much better than Jenkins he +could run the business; Danny, some inches taller, no longer an office +boy, but spick and span in a blue serge suit and a necktie of the latest +style, exhaling health and correctness; Williamson, grown very gray and +showing on his face thirty years of routine; Baldwin, happy as of +yore at the ending of the day's work, and smiling at the words of +Jenkins--Gilmartin's successor, who wore an air of authority, of the +habit of command which he had not known in the old days. + +Of a sudden Gilmartin was in the midst of his old life. He saw all that +he had been, all that he might still be. And he was overwhelmed. He +longed to rush to his old associates, to speak to them, to shake hands +with them, to be the old Gilmartin. He was about to step toward Jenkins, +but stopped abruptly. His clothes were shabby, and he felt ashamed. But, +he apologized to himself, he could tell them how he had made a hundred +thousand and had lost it. And he even might borrow a few dollars from +Jenkins. + +Gilmartin turned on his heel with a sudden impulse and walked away from +Maiden Lane quickly. All that he thought now was that he would not +have them see him in his plight. He felt the shabbiness of his clothes +without looking at them. As he walked, a great sense of loneliness came +over him. + +He was back in Wall Street. At the head of the Street was old Trinity; +to the right the Sub-Treasury; to the left the Stock Exchange. + +From Maiden Lane to the Lane of the Ticker--such had been his life. + +"If I could only buy some Cosmopolitan Traction!" he said. Then he +walked forlornly northward, to the great bridge, on his way to Brooklyn, +to eat with Griggs, the ruined grocery man. + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Tipster, by Edwin Lefevre + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TIPSTER *** + +***** This file should be named 23171-8.txt or 23171-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/3/1/7/23171/ + +Produced by David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Tipster + 1901, From "Wall Street Stories" + +Author: Edwin Lefevre + +Release Date: October 24, 2007 [EBook #23171] +Last Updated: November 10, 2016 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TIPSTER *** + + + + +Produced by David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + <div style="height: 8em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h1> + THE TIPSTER + </h1> + <h2> + By Edwin Lefevre + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h4> + From “Wall Street Stories.” Copyright, 1901, by McClure, Phillips & + Co. + </h4> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + Contents + </h2> + <table summary="" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto"> + <tr> + <td> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> I </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> II </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> III </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0004"> IV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0005"> V </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0006"> VI </a> + </p> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + I + </h2> + <p> + Glmartin was still laughing professionally at the prospective buyer’s + funny story when the telephone on his desk buzzed. He said: “Excuse me for + a minute, old man,” to the customer—Hopkins, the Connecticut + manufacturer. + </p> + <p> + “Hello; who is this?” he spoke into the transmitter. “Oh, how are you?—Yes—I + was out—Is that so?—Too bad—Too bad—Yes; just my + luck to be out. I might have known it!—Do you think so?—Well, + then, sell the 200 Occidental common—You know best—What about + Trolley?—Hold on?—All right; just as you say—I hope so—I + don’t like to lose, and—Ha! ha!—I guess so—Good-by.” + </p> + <p> + “It’s from my brokers,” explained Gilmartin, hanging up the receiver. “I’d + have saved five hundred dollars if I had been here at half-past ten. They + called me up to advise me to sell out, and the price is off over three + points. I could have got out at a profit this morning; but no, sir; not I. + I had to be away, trying to buy some camphor.” + </p> + <p> + Hopkins was impressed. Gilmartin perceived it and went on, with an air of + comical wrath which he thought was preferable to indifference: “It isn’t + the money I mind so much as the tough luck of it. I didn’t make my trade + in camphor after all and I lost in stocks, when if I’d only waited five + minutes more in the office I’d have got the message from my brokers and + saved my five hundred. Expensive, my time is, eh?” with a woful shake of + the head. + </p> + <p> + “But you’re ahead of the game, aren’t you?” asked the customer, + interestedly. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I guess yes. Just about twelve thousand.” + </p> + <p> + That was more than Gilmartin had made; but having exaggerated, he + immediately felt very kindly disposed toward the Connecticut man. + </p> + <p> + “Whew!” whistled Hopkins, admiringly. Gilmartin experienced a great + tenderness toward him. The lie was made stingless by the customer’s + credulity. This brought a smile of subtle relief to Gilmartin’s lips. He + was a pleasant-faced, pleasant-voiced man of three-and-thirty. He exhaled + health, contentment, neatness, and an easy conscience. Honesty and + good-nature shone in his eyes. People liked to shake hands with him. It + made his friends talk of his lucky star; and they envied him. + </p> + <p> + “I bought this yesterday for my wife; took it out of a little deal in + Trolley,” he told Hopkins, taking a small jewel-box from one of the desk’s + drawers. It contained a diamond ring, somewhat showy, but obviously quite + expensive. Hopkins’s semi-envious admiration made Gilmartin add, genially: + “What do you say to lunch? I feel I am entitled to a glass of ‘fizz’ to + forget my bad luck of this morning.” Then, in an exaggeratedly apologetic + tone: “Nobody likes to lose five hundred dollars on an empty stomach!” + </p> + <p> + “She’ll be delighted, of course,” said Hopkins, thinking of Mrs. + Gilmartin. Mrs. Hopkins loved jewelry. + </p> + <p> + “She’s the nicest little woman that ever lived. Whatever is mine is hers; + and what’s hers is her own. Ha! ha! But,” becoming nicely serious, “all + that I’ll make out of the stock market I’m going to put away for her, in + her name. She can take better care of it than I; and, besides, she’s + entitled to it, anyhow, for being so nice to me.” + </p> + <p> + That is how he told what a good husband he was. He felt so pleased over it + that he went on, sincerely regretful: “She’s visiting friends in + Pennsylvania or I’d ask you to dine with us.” And they went to a + fashionable restaurant together. + </p> + <p> + Day after day Gilmartin thought persistently that Maiden Lane was too far + from Wall Street. There came a week in which he could have made four very + handsome “turns” had he but been in the brokers’ office. He was out on + business for his firm and when he returned the opportunity had gone, + leaving behind it vivid visions of what might have been; also the + conviction that time, tide, and the ticker wait for no man. Instead of + buying and selling quinine and balsams and essential oils for Maxwell + & Kip, drug brokers and importers, he decided to make the buying and + selling of stocks and bonds his exclusive business. The hours were easy; + the profits would be great. He would make enough to live on. He would not + let the Street take away what it had given. That was the great secret: to + know when to quit! He would be content with a moderate amount, wisely + invested in gilt-edged bonds. And then he would bid the Street good-by + forever. + </p> + <p> + Force of long business custom and the indefinable fear of new ventures for + a time fought successfully his increasing ticker-fever. But one day his + brokers wished to speak to him, to urge him to sell out his entire + holdings, having been advised of an epoch-making resolution by Congress. + They had received the news in advance from a Washington customer. Other + brokers had important connections in the Capital and therefore there was + no time to lose. They dared not assume the responsibilty of selling him + out without his permission. Five minutes—five eternities!—passed + before they could talk by telephone with him; and when he gave his order + to sell, the market had broken five or six points. The news was “out.” The + news agencies’ slips were in the brokers’ offices and half of Wall Street + knew. Instead of being among the first ten sellers Gilmartin was among the + second hundred. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + II + </h2> + <p> + The clerks gave him a farewell dinner. All were there, even the head + office-boy to whom the two-dollar subscription was no light matter. The + man who probably would succeed Gilmartin as manager, Jenkins, acted as + toastmaster. He made a witty speech which ended with a neatly turned + compliment. Moreover, he seemed sincerely sorry to bid good-by to the man + whose departure meant promotion—which was the nicest compliment of + all. And the other clerks—old Williamson, long since ambition-proof; + and young Hardy, bitten ceaselessly by it; and middle-aged Jameson, who + knew he could run the business much better than Gilmartin; and Baldwin, + who never thought of business in or out of the office—all told him + how good he had been and related corroborative anecdotes that made him + blush and the others cheer; and how sorry they were he would no longer be + with them, but how glad he was going to do so much better by himself; and + they hoped he would not “cut” them when he met them after he had become a + great millionaire. And Gilmartin felt his heart grow soft and feelings not + all of happiness came over him. Danny, the dean of the office boys, whose + surname was known only to the cashier, rose and said, in the tones of one + speaking of a dear departed friend: “He was the best man in the place. He + always was all right.” Everybody laughed; whereupon Danny went on, with a + defiant glare at the others: “I’d work for him for nothin’ if he’d want + me, instead of gettin’ ten a week from any one else.” And when they + laughed the harder at this he said, stoutly: “Yes, I would!” His eyes + filled with tears at their incredulity, which he feared might be shared by + Mr. Gilmartin. But the toastmaster rose very gravely and said: “What’s the + matter with Danny?” And all shouted in unison: “He’s all right!” with a + cordiality so heartfelt that Danny smiled and sat down, blushing happily. + And crusty Jameson, who knew he could run the business so much better than + Gilmartin, stood up—he was the last speaker—and began: “In the + ten years I’ve worked with Gilmartin, we’ve had our differences and—well—I—well—er—oh, + damn it!” and walked quickly to the head of the table and shook hands + violently with Gilmartin for fully a minute, while all the others looked + on in silence. + </p> + <p> + Gilmartin had been eager to go to Wall Street. But this leave-taking made + him sad. The old Gilmartin who had worked with these men was no more and + the new Gilmartin felt sorry. He had never stopped to think how much they + cared for him nor indeed how very much he cared for them. + </p> + <p> + He told them, very simply, he did not expect ever again to spend such + pleasant years anywhere as at the old office; and as for his spells of + ill-temper—oh, yes, they needn’t shake their heads; he knew he often + was irritable—he had meant well and trusted they would forgive him. + If he had his life to live over again he would try really to deserve all + that they had said of him on this evening. And he was very, very sorry to + leave them. “Very sorry, boys; very sorry. <i>Very</i> sorry!” he finished + lamely, with a wistful smile. He shook hands with each man—a strong + grip, as though he were about to go on a journey from which he might never + return—and in his heart of hearts there was a new doubt of the + wisdom of going to Wall Street. But it was too late to draw back. + </p> + <p> + They escorted him to his house. They wished to be with him to the last + possible minute. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + III + </h2> + <p> + Everybody in the drug trade seemed to think that Gilmartin was on the + highroad to Fortune. Those old business acquaintances and former + competitors whom he happened to meet in the street-cars or in the theatre + lobbies always spoke to him as to a millionaire-to-be, in what they + imagined was correct Wall Street jargon, to show him that they too knew + something of the great game. But their efforts made him smile with a sense + of superiority, at the same time that their admiration for his cleverness + and their good-natured envy for his luck made his soul thrill joyously. + Among his new friends in Wall Street also he found much to enjoy. The + other customers—some of them very wealthy men—listened to his + views regarding the market as attentively as he, later, felt it his polite + duty to listen to theirs. The brokers themselves treated him as a “good + fellow.” They cajoled him into trading often—every one hundred + shares he bought or sold meant $12.50 to them—and when he won, they + praised his unerring discernment. When he lost they soothed him by + scolding him for his recklessness—just as a mother will treat her + three-year-old’s fall as a great joke in order to deceive the child into + laughing at its misfortune. It was an average office with an average + clientèle. + </p> + <p> + From ten to three they stood before the quotation board and watched a + quick-witted boy chalk the price changes, which one or another of the + customers read aloud from the tape as it came from the ticker. The higher + stocks went the more numerous the customers became, being allured in great + flocks to the Street by the tales of their friends, who had profited + greatly by the rise. All were winning, for all were buying stocks in a + bull market. They resembled each other marvelously, these men who differed + so greatly in cast of features and complexion and age. Life to all of them + was full of joy. The very ticker sounded mirthful; its clicking told of + golden jokes. And Gilmartin and the other customers laughed heartily at + the mildest of stories without even waiting for the point of the joke. At + times their fingers clutched the air happily, as if they actually felt the + good money the ticker was presenting to them. They were all neophytes at + the great game—lambkins who were bleating blithely to inform the + world what clever and formidable wolves they were. Some of them had + sustained occasional losses; but these were trifling compared with their + winnings. + </p> + <p> + When the slump came all were heavily committed to the bull side. It was a + bad slump. It was so unexpected—by the lambs—that all of them + said, very gravely, it came like a thunderclap out of a clear sky. While + it lasted, that is, while the shearing of the flock was proceeding, it was + very uncomfortable. Those same joyous, winning stock-gamblers, with + beaming faces, of the week before, were fear-clutched, losing + stock-gamblers, with livid faces, on what they afterward called the day of + the panic. It really was only a slump; rather sharper than usual. Too many + lambs had been over-speculating. The wholesale dealers in securities—and + insecurities—held very little of their own wares, having sold them + to the lambs, and wanted them back now—cheaper. The customers’ eyes, + as on happier days, were intent on the quotation board. Their dreams were + rudely shattered; the fast horses some had all but bought joined the steam + yachts others almost had chartered. The beautiful homes they had been + building were torn down in the twinkling of an eye. And the demolisher of + dreams and dwellings was the ticker, that instead of golden jokes was now + clicking financial death. They could not take their eyes from the board + before them. Their own ruin, told in mournful numbers by the little + machine, fascinated them. To be sure, poor Gilmartin said: “I’ve changed + my mind about Newport. I guess I’ll spend the summer on my own <i>Hotel de + Roof!</i>” And he grinned; but he grinned alone. Wilson, the dry goods + man, who laughed so joyously at everybody’s jokes, was now watching, as if + under a hypnotic spell, the lips of the man who sat on the high stool + beside the ticker and called out the prices to the quotation boy. Now and + again Wilson’s own lips made curious grimaces, as if speaking to himself. + Brown, the slender, pale-faced man, was outside in the hall, pacing to and + fro. All was lost, including honor. And he was afraid to look at the + ticker, afraid to hear the prices shouted, yet hoping—for a miracle! + Gil-martin came out from the office, saw Brown and said, with sickly + bravado: “I held out as long as I could. But they got <i>my</i> ducats. A + sporting life comes high, I tell you!” But Brown did not heed him, and + Gilmartin pushed the elevator button impatiently and cursed at the delay. + He not only had lost the “paper” profits he had accumulated during the + bull market, but all his savings of years had crumbled away beneath the + strokes of the ticker that day. It was the same with all. They would not + take a small loss at first, but had held on, in the hope of a recovery + that would “let them out even.” And prices had sunk and sunk until the + loss was so great that it seemed only proper to hold on, if need be a + year, for sooner or later prices must come back. But the break “shook them + out,” and prices went just so much lower because so many people had to + sell whether they would or not. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IV + </h2> + <p> + After the slump most of the customers returned to their legitimate + business—sadder, but it is to be feared not much wiser men. + Gilmartin, after the first numbing shock, tried to learn of fresh + opportunities in the drug business. But his heart was not in his search. + There was the shame of confessing defeat in Wall Street so soon after + leaving Maiden Lane; but far stronger than this was the effect of the + poison of gambling. If it was bad enough to be obliged to begin lower than + he had been at Maxwell & Kip’s, it was worse to condemn himself to + long weary years of work in the drug business when his reward, if he + remained strong and healthy, would consist merely in being able to save a + few thousands. But a few lucky weeks in the stock market would win him + back all he had lost—and more! + </p> + <p> + He should have begun in a small way while he was learning to speculate. He + saw it now very clearly. Every one of his mistakes had been due to + inexperience. He had imagined he knew the market. But it was only now that + he really knew it, and therefore it was only now, after the slump had + taught him so much, that he could reasonably hope to succeed. His mind, + brooding over his losses, definitely dismissed as futile the resumption of + the purchase and sale of drugs, and dwelt persistently on the sudden + acquisition of stock market wisdom. Properly applied, this wisdom ought to + mean much to him. In a few weeks he was again spending his days before the + quotation board, gossiping with those customers who had survived, giving + and receiving advice. And as time passed the grip of Wall Street on his + soul grew stronger until it strangled all other aspirations. He could + talk, think, dream of nothing but stocks. He could not read the newspapers + without thinking how the market would “take” the news contained therein. + If a huge refinery burned down, with a loss to the “Trust” of $4,000,000, + he sighed because he had not foreseen the catastrophe and had sold Sugar + short. If a strike by the men of the Suburban Trolley Company led to + violence and destruction of life and property, he cursed an unrelenting + Fate because he had not had the prescience to “put out” a thousand shares + of Trolley. And he constantly calculated to the last fraction of a point + how much money he would have made if he had sold short just before the + calamity at the very top prices and had covered his stock at the bottom. + Had he only known! The atmosphere of the Street, the odor of speculation + surrounded him on all sides, enveloped him like a fog, from which the + things of the outside world appeared as though seen through a veil. He + lived in the district where men do not say “Good-morning” on meeting one + another, but “How’s the market?” or, when one asks: “How do you feel?” + receives for an answer: “Bullish!” or “Bearish!” instead of a reply + regarding the state of health. + </p> + <p> + At first, after the fatal slump, Gilmartin importuned his brokers to let + him speculate on credit, in a small way. They did. They were kindly enough + men and sincerely wished to help him. But luck ran against him. With the + obstinacy of unsuperstitious gamblers he insisted on fighting Fate. He was + a bull in a bear market; and the more he lost the more he thought the + inevitable “rally” in prices was due. He bought in expectation of it and + lost again and again, until he owed the brokers a greater sum than he + could possibly pay; and they refused point blank to give him credit for + another cent, disregarding his vehement entreaties to buy a last hundred, + just one more chance, the last, because he would be sure to win. And, of + course, the long-expected happened and the market went up with a rapidity + that made the Street blink; and Gilmartin figured that had not the brokers + refused his last order, he would have made enough to pay off the + indebtedness and have left, in addition, $2,950; for he would have + “pyramided” on the way up. He showed the brokers his figures, accusingly, + and they had some words about it and he left the office, almost tempted to + sue the firm for conspiracy with intent to defraud; but decided that it + was “another of Luck’s sockdolagers” and let it go at that, gambler-like. + </p> + <p> + When he returned to the brokers’ office—the next day—he began + to speculate in the only way he could—vicariously. Smith, for + instance, who was long of 500 St. Paul at 125, took less interest in the + deal than did Gilmartin, who thenceforth assiduously studied the news + slips and sought information on St. Paul all over the Street, listening + thrillingly to tips and rumors regarding the stock, suffering keenly when + the price declined, laughing and chirruping blithely if the quotations + moved upward, exactly as though it were his own stock. In a measure it was + as an anodyne to his ticker fever. Indeed, in some cases his interest was + so poignant and his advice so frequent—he would speak of <i>our</i> + deal—that the lucky winner gave him a small share of his spoils, + which Gilmartin accepted without hesitation—he was beyond + pride-wounding by now—and promptly used to back some miniature deal + of his own on the Consolidated Exchange or even in “Percy’s”—a dingy + little bucket shop, where they took orders for two shares of stock on a + margin of 1 per cent; that is, where a man could bet as little as two + dollars. + </p> + <p> + Later, it often came to pass that Gilmartin would borrow a few dollars + when the customers were not trading actively. The amounts he borrowed + diminished by reason of the increasing frequency of their refusals. + Finally, he was asked to stay away from the office where once he had been + an honored and pampered customer. + </p> + <p> + He became a Wall Street “has been” and could be seen daily on New Street, + back of the Consolidated Exchange, where the “put” and “call” brokers + congregate. The tickers in the saloons nearby fed his gambler’s appetite. + From time to time luckier men took him into the same be-tickered saloons, + where he ate at the free lunch counters and drank beer and talked stocks + and listened to the lucky winners’ narratives with lips tremulous with + readiness to smile and grimace. At times the gambler in him would assert + itself and he would tell the lucky winners, wrathfully, how the stock he + wished to buy but couldn’t the week before had risen 18 points. But they, + saturated with their own ticker fever, would nod absently, their soul’s + eyes fixed on some quotation-to-be; or they would not nod at all, but in + their eagerness to look at the tape, from which they had been absent two + long minutes, would leave him without a single word of consolation or even + of farewell. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0005" id="link2H_4_0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + V + </h2> + <p> + One day, in New Street, he overheard a very well-known broker tell another + that Mr. Sharpe was “going to move up Pennsylvania Central right away.” + The overhearing of the conversation was a bit of rare good luck that + raised Gil-martin from his sodden apathy and made him hasten to his + brother-in-law, who kept a grocery store in Brooklyn. He implored Griggs + to go to a broker and buy as much Pennsylvania Central as he could—that + is, if he wished to live in luxury the rest of his life. Sam Sharpe was + going to put it up. Also, he borrowed ten dollars. + </p> + <p> + Griggs was tempted. He debated with himself many hours, and at length + yielded with misgivings. He took his savings and bought one hundred shares + of Pennsylvania Central at 64, and began to neglect his business in order + to study the financial pages of the newspapers. Little by little + Gilmartin’s whisper set in motion within him the wheels of a ticker that + printed on his day-dreams the mark of the dollar. His wife, seeing him + preoccupied, thought business was bad; but Griggs denied it, confirming + her worst fears. Finally, he had a telephone put in his little shop, to be + able to talk to his broker. + </p> + <p> + Gilmartin, with the ten dollars he had borrowed, promptly bought ten + shares in a bucket shop at 63%; the stock promptly went to 62%; he was + promptly “wiped”; and the stock promptly went back to 64%. + </p> + <p> + On the next day a fellow-customer of Gilmartin of old days invited him to + have a drink. Gil-martin resented the man’s evident prosperity. He felt + indignant at the ability of the other to buy hundreds of shares. But the + liquor soothed him, and in a burst of mild remorse he told Smithers, after + an apprehensive look about him as if he feared some one might overhear: + “I’ll tell you something, on the dead q. t., for your own benefit.” + </p> + <p> + “Fire away!” + </p> + <p> + “Pa. Cent, is going ‘way up.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes?” said Smithers, calmly. + </p> + <p> + “Yes; it will cross par sure.” + </p> + <p> + “Umph!” between munches of a pretzel. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Sam Sharpe told”—Gilmartin was on the point of saying a + “friend of mine,” but caught himself and went on, impressively—“told + me, yesterday, to buy Pa. Cent., as he had accumulated his full line, and + was ready to whoop it up. And you know what Sharpe is,” he finished, as if + he thought Smithers was familiar with Sharpe’s powers. + </p> + <p> + “Is that so,” nibbled Smithers. + </p> + <p> + “Why, when Sharpe makes up his mind to put up a stock, as he intends to do + with Pa. Cent., nothing on earth can stop him. He told me he would make it + cross par within sixty days. This is no hearsay, no tip. It’s cold facts, + I don’t <i>hear</i> it’s going up; I don’t <i>think</i> it’s going up; I + <i>know</i> it’s going up. Understand?” And he shook his right forefinger + with a hammering motion. + </p> + <p> + In less than five minutes Smithers was so wrought up that he bought 500 + shares and promised solemnly not to “take his profits,” s. o. sell out, + until Gilmartin said the word. Then they had another drink and another + look at the ticker. + </p> + <p> + “You want to keep in touch with me,” was Gilmartin’s parting shot. “I’ll + tell you what Sharpe tells me. But you must keep it quiet,” with a + sidewise nod that pledged Smithers to honorable secrecy. + </p> + <p> + Had Gilmartin met Sharpe face to face, he would not have known who was + before him. + </p> + <p> + Shortly after he left Smithers he buttonholed another acquaintance, a + young man who thought he knew Wall Street, and therefore had a hobby—manipulation. + No one could induce him to buy stocks by telling him how well the + companies were doing, how bright the prospects, etc. That was bait for + “suckers,” not for clever young stock operators. But any one, even a + stranger, who said that “they”—the perennially mysterious “they,” + the “big men,” the mighty “manipulators” whose life was one prolonged + conspiracy to pull the wool over the public’s eyes—“they” were going + to “jack up” these or the other shares, was welcomed and his advice acted + upon. Young Freeman believed in nothing but “their” wickedness and “their” + power to advance or depress stock values at will. Thinking of his wisdom + had given him a chronic sneer. + </p> + <p> + “You’re just the man I was looking for,” said Gilmartin, who hadn’t + thought of the young man at all. + </p> + <p> + “Are you a deputy sheriff?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” A slight pause for oratorical effect. “I had a long talk with Sam + to-day.” + </p> + <p> + “What Sam?” + </p> + <p> + “Sharpe. The old boy sent for me. He was in mighty good humor too. Tickled + to death. He might well be—he’s got 60,000 shares of Pennsylvania + Central. And there’s going to be from 50 to 60 points profit in it.” + </p> + <p> + “H’m!” sniffed Freeman, sceptically, yet impressed by the change In + Gilmartin’s attitude from the money-borrowing humility of the previous + week to the confident tone of a man with a straight tip. Sharpe was + notoriously kind to his old friends—rich or poor. + </p> + <p> + “I was there when the papers were signed,” Gilmartin said, hotly. “I was + going to leave the room, but Sam told me I needn’t. I can’t tell you what + it is about; really I can’t. But he’s simply going to put the stock above + par. It’s 64 1/2 now, and you know and I know that by the time it is 75 + the newspapers will all be talking about inside buying; and at 85 + everybody will want to buy it on account of important developments; and at + 95 there will be millions of bull tips on it and rumors of increased + dividends, and people who would not look at it thirty points lower will + rush in and buy it by the bushel. Let me know who is manipulating a stock, + and to h—l with dividends and earnings. Them’s <i>my</i> + sentiments,” with a final hammering nod, as if driving in a profound + truth. + </p> + <p> + “Same here,” assented Freeman, cordially. He was attacked on his + vulnerable side. + </p> + <p> + Strange things happen in Wall Street. Sometimes tips come true. It so + proved in this case. Sharpe started the stock upward brilliantly—the + movement became historic in the Street—and Pa. Cent, soared dizzily + and all the newspapers talked of it and the public went mad over it and it + touched 80 and 85 and 88 and higher, and then Gilmartin made his + brother-in-law sell out and Smithers and Freeman. Their profits were: + Griggs, $8,000; Smithers, $15,100; Freeman, $2,750. Gilmartin made them + give him a good percentage. He had no trouble with his brother-in-law. + Gilmartin told him it was an inviolable Wall Street custom and so Griggs + paid, with an air of much experience in such matters. Freeman was more or + less grateful. But Smithers met Gilmartin, and full of his good luck + repeated what he had told a dozen men within the hour: “I did a dandy + stroke the other day. Pa. Cent. looked to me like higher prices and I + bought a wad of it. I’ve cleaned up a tidy sum,” and he looked proud of + his own penetration. He really had forgotten that it was Gilmartin who had + given him the tip. But not so Gilmartin, who retorted, witheringly: + </p> + <p> + “Well, I’ve often heard of folks that you put into good things and they + make money and afterward they come to you and tell how damned smart they + were to hit it right. But you can’t work that on me. I’ve got witnesses.” + </p> + <p> + “Witnesses?” echoed Smithers, looking cheap. He remembered. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, wit-ness-es,” mimicked Gilmartin, scornfully, “I all but had to get + on my knees to make you buy it. And I told you when to sell it, too. The + information came to me straight from headquarters and you got the use of + it, and now the least you can do is to give me twenty-five hundred + dollars.” + </p> + <p> + In the end he accepted eight hundred dollars. He told mutual friends that + Smithers had cheated him. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0006" id="link2H_4_0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VI + </h2> + <p> + It seemed as though the regeneration of Gilmartin had been achieved when + he changed his shabby raiment for expensive clothes. He paid his + tradesmen’s bills and moved into better quarters. He spent his money as + though he had made millions. One week after he had closed out the deal his + friends would have sworn Gilmartin had always been prosperous. That was + his exterior. His inner self remained the same—a gambler. He began + to speculate again, in the office of Freeman’s brokers. + </p> + <p> + At the end of the second month he had lost not only the $1,200 he had + deposited with the firm, but an additional $250 he had given his wife and + had been obliged to “borrow” back from her, despite her assurances that he + would lose it. This time the slump was really unexpected by all, even by + the magnates—the mysterious and all-powerful “they” of Freeman’s—so + that the loss of the second fortune did not reflect on Gilmartin’s ability + as a speculator, but on his luck. As a matter of fact, he had been too + careful and had sinned from over-timidity at first, only to plunge later + and lose all. + </p> + <p> + As the result of much thought about his losses Gilmartin became a + professional tipster. To let others speculate for him seemed the only sure + way of winning. He began by advising ten victims—he learned in time + to call them clients—to sell Steel Rod preferred, each man 100 + shares; and to a second ten he urged the purchase of the same quantity of + the same stock. To all he advised taking four points’ profit. Not all + followed his advice, but the seven clients who sold it made between them + nearly $3,000 overnight. His percentage amounted to $287.50. Six bought, + and when they lost he told them confidentially how the treachery of a + leading member of the pool had obliged the pool managers to withdraw their + support from the stock temporarily, whence the decline. They grumbled; but + he assured them that he himself had lost nearly $1,600 of his own on + account of the traitor. + </p> + <p> + For some months Gilmartin made a fair living, but business became very + dull. People learned to fight shy of his tips. The persuasiveness was gone + from his inside news and from his confidential advice from Sharpe and from + his beholding with his own eyes the signing of epoch-making documents. Had + he been able to make his customers alternate their winnings and losses he + might have kept his trade. But, for example, “Dave” Rossiter, in Stuart + & Stern’s office, stupidly received the wrong tip six times in + succession. It wasn’t Gilmartin’s fault, but Rossiter’s bad luck. + </p> + <p> + At length, failing to get enough clients in the ticker district itself, + Gilmartin was forced to advertise in an afternoon paper, six times a week, + and in the Sunday edition of one of the leading morning dailies. They ran + like this: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + WE MAKE MONEY + + for our Investors by the best system ever devised. Deal with + genuine experts. Two methods of operating; one speculative, + the other ensures absolute safety. +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + NOW + + is the time to invest in a certain stock for ten points sure + profit Three points margin will carry it. Remember how + correct we have been on other stocks. Take advantage of + this move. +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + IOWA MIDLAND. + + Big movement coming in this stock. If s very near at hand. + Am waiting daily for word. Will get it in time. Splendid + opportunity to make big money. It costs only a 2-cent stamp + to write to me. +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + CONFIDENTIAL INFORMATION. + + Private secretary of banker and stock operator of world-wide + reputation has valuable information. I don’t wish your + money. Use your own broker. All I want is a share of what + you will surely make if you follow my advice. +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + WILL ADVANCE $40 PER SHARE. + + A fortune to be made in a railroad stock. Deal pending which + will advance same $40 per share within three months. Am in + position to keep informed as to developments and the + operations of a pool. Parties who will carry for me 100 + shares with a New York Stock Exchange house will receive the + full benefit of information. Investment safe and sure. + Highest references given. +</pre> + <p> + He prospered amazingly. Answers came to him from furniture dealers on + Fourth Avenue and dairymen up the State and fruit growers in Delaware and + factory workers in Massachusetts and electricians in New Jersey and coal + miners in Pennsylvania and shopkeepers and physicians and plumbers and + undertakers in towns and cities near and far. Every morning Gilmartin + telegraphed to scores of people—at their expense—to sell, and + to scores of others to buy the same stocks. And he claimed his commissions + from the winners. + </p> + <p> + Little by little his savings grew; and with them grew his desire to + speculate on his own account. It made him irritable not to gamble. + </p> + <p> + He met Freeman one day in one of his dissatisfied moods. Out of politeness + he asked the young cynic the universal query of the Street: + </p> + <p> + “What do you think of ‘em?” He meant stocks. + </p> + <p> + “What difference does it make what I think?” sneered Freeman, with proud + humility. “I’m nobody.” But he looked as if he did not agree with himself. + </p> + <p> + “What do you <i>know?</i>” pursued Gilmartin mollifyingly. + </p> + <p> + “I know enough to be long of Gotham Gas. I just bought a thousand shares + at 180.” He really had bought a hundred only. + </p> + <p> + “What on?” + </p> + <p> + “On information. I got it straight from a director of the company. Look + here, Gilmartin, I’m pledged to secrecy. But, for your own benefit, I’ll + just tell you to buy all the Gas you possibly can carry. The deal is on. I + know that certain papers were signed last night, and they are almost ready + to spring it on the public. They haven’t got all the stock they want. When + they get it, look out for fireworks.” + </p> + <p> + Gilmartin did not perceive any resemblance between Freeman’s tips and his + own. + </p> + <p> + He said, hesitatingly, as though ashamed of his timidity: + </p> + <p> + “The stock seems pretty high at 180.” + </p> + <p> + “You won’t think so when it sells at 250. Gilmartin, I don’t <i>hear</i> + this; I don’t <i>think</i> it; I <i>know</i> it!” + </p> + <p> + “All right; I’m in,” quoth Gilmartin, jovially. He felt a sense of + emancipation now that he had made up his mind to resume his speculating. + He took every cent of the nine hundred dollars he had made from telling + people the same things that Freeman told him now, and bought a hundred + Gotham Gas at $185 a share. Also he telegraphed to all his clients to + plunge in the stock. + </p> + <p> + It fluctuated between 184 and 186 for a fortnight. Freeman daily + asseverated that “they” were accumulating the stock. But, one fine day, + the directors met, agreed that business was bad, and having sold out most + of their own holdings, decided to reduce the dividend rate from 8 to 6 per + cent. Gotham Gas broke seventeen points in ten short minutes. Gilmartin + lost all he had. He found it impossible to pay for his advertisements. The + telegraph companies refused to accept any more “collect” messages. This + deprived Gilmartin of his income as a tipster. Griggs had kept on + speculating and had lost all his money and his wife’s in a little deal in + Iowa Midland. All that Gilmartin could hope to get from him was an + occasional invitation to dinner. Mrs. Gilmartin, after they were + dispossessed for non-payment of rent, left her husband, and went to live + with a sister in Newark who did not like Gilmartin. + </p> + <p> + His clothes became shabby and his meals irregular. But always in his + heart, as abiding as an inventor’s faith in himself, there dwelt the hope + that some day, somehow, he would “strike it rich” in the stock market. + </p> + <p> + One day he borrowed five dollars from a man who had made five thousand in + Cosmopolitan Traction. The stock, the man said, had only begun to go up, + and Gilmartin believed it and bought five shares in “Percy’s,” his + favorite bucket shop. The stock began to rise slowly but steadily. The + next afternoon “Percy’s” was raided, the proprietor having disagreed with + the police as to price. + </p> + <p> + Gilmartin lingered about New Street, talking with other customers of the + raided bucket shop, discussing whether or not it was a “put up job” of old + Percy himself, who, it was known, had been losing money to the crowd for + weeks past. One by one the victims went away and at length Gilmartin left + the ticker district. He walked slowly down Wall Street, then turned up + William Street, thinking of his luck. Cosmopolitan Traction had certainly + looked like higher prices. Indeed, it seemed to him that he could almost + hear the stock shouting, articulately: “<i>I’m going up, right away, right + away!</i>” If somebody would buy a thousand shares and agree to give him + the profits on a hundred, on ten, on one! + </p> + <p> + But he had not even his carfare. Then he remembered that he had not eaten + since breakfast. It did him no good to remember it now. He would have to + get his dinner from Griggs in Brooklyn. + </p> + <p> + “Why,” Gilmartin told himself with a burst of curious self-contempt, “I + can’t even buy a cup of coffee!” + </p> + <p> + He raised his head and looked about him to find how insignificant a + restaurant it was in which he could not buy even a cup of coffee. He had + reached Maiden Lane. As his glance ran up and down the north side of that + street, it was arrested by the sign: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + MAXWELL & KIP +</pre> + <p> + At first he felt but vaguely what it meant. It had grown unfamiliar with + absence. The clerks were coming out. Jameson, looking crustier than ever, + as though he were forever thinking how much better than Jenkins he could + run the business; Danny, some inches taller, no longer an office boy, but + spick and span in a blue serge suit and a necktie of the latest style, + exhaling health and correctness; Williamson, grown very gray and showing + on his face thirty years of routine; Baldwin, happy as of yore at the + ending of the day’s work, and smiling at the words of Jenkins—Gilmartin’s + successor, who wore an air of authority, of the habit of command which he + had not known in the old days. + </p> + <p> + Of a sudden Gilmartin was in the midst of his old life. He saw all that he + had been, all that he might still be. And he was overwhelmed. He longed to + rush to his old associates, to speak to them, to shake hands with them, to + be the old Gilmartin. He was about to step toward Jenkins, but stopped + abruptly. His clothes were shabby, and he felt ashamed. But, he apologized + to himself, he could tell them how he had made a hundred thousand and had + lost it. And he even might borrow a few dollars from Jenkins. + </p> + <p> + Gilmartin turned on his heel with a sudden impulse and walked away from + Maiden Lane quickly. All that he thought now was that he would not have + them see him in his plight. He felt the shabbiness of his clothes without + looking at them. As he walked, a great sense of loneliness came over him. + </p> + <p> + He was back in Wall Street. At the head of the Street was old Trinity; to + the right the Sub-Treasury; to the left the Stock Exchange. + </p> + <p> + From Maiden Lane to the Lane of the Ticker—such had been his life. + </p> + <p> + “If I could only buy some Cosmopolitan Traction!” he said. Then he walked + forlornly northward, to the great bridge, on his way to Brooklyn, to eat + with Griggs, the ruined grocery man. + </p> + <div style="height: 6em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Tipster, by Edwin Lefevre + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TIPSTER *** + +***** This file should be named 23171-h.htm or 23171-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/3/1/7/23171/ + +Produced by David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Tipster + 1901, From "Wall Street Stories" + +Author: Edwin Lefevre + +Release Date: October 24, 2007 [EBook #23171] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TIPSTER *** + + + + +Produced by David Widger + + + + + + +THE TIPSTER + +By Edwin Lefevre + +From "Wall Street Stories." Copyright, 1901, by McClure, Phillips & Co. + + + + +I + +Glmartin was still laughing professionally at the prospective buyer's +funny story when the telephone on his desk buzzed. He said: "Excuse me +for a minute, old man," to the customer--Hopkins, the Connecticut +manufacturer. + +"Hello; who is this?" he spoke into the transmitter. "Oh, how are +you?--Yes--I was out--Is that so?--Too bad--Too bad--Yes; just my luck +to be out. I might have known it!--Do you think so?--Well, then, sell +the 200 Occidental common--You know best--What about Trolley?--Hold +on?--All right; just as you say--I hope so--I don't like to lose, +and--Ha! ha!--I guess so--Good-by." + +"It's from my brokers," explained Gilmartin, hanging up the receiver. +"I'd have saved five hundred dollars if I had been here at half-past +ten. They called me up to advise me to sell out, and the price is off +over three points. I could have got out at a profit this morning; but +no, sir; not I. I had to be away, trying to buy some camphor." + +Hopkins was impressed. Gilmartin perceived it and went on, with an air +of comical wrath which he thought was preferable to indifference: "It +isn't the money I mind so much as the tough luck of it. I didn't make my +trade in camphor after all and I lost in stocks, when if I'd only waited +five minutes more in the office I'd have got the message from my brokers +and saved my five hundred. Expensive, my time is, eh?" with a woful +shake of the head. + +"But you're ahead of the game, aren't you?" asked the customer, +interestedly. + +"Well, I guess yes. Just about twelve thousand." + +That was more than Gilmartin had made; but having exaggerated, he +immediately felt very kindly disposed toward the Connecticut man. + +"Whew!" whistled Hopkins, admiringly. Gilmartin experienced a great +tenderness toward him. The lie was made stingless by the customer's +credulity. This brought a smile of subtle relief to Gilmartin's lips. +He was a pleasant-faced, pleasant-voiced man of three-and-thirty. He +exhaled health, contentment, neatness, and an easy conscience. Honesty +and good-nature shone in his eyes. People liked to shake hands with him. +It made his friends talk of his lucky star; and they envied him. + +"I bought this yesterday for my wife; took it out of a little deal in +Trolley," he told Hopkins, taking a small jewel-box from one of the +desk's drawers. It contained a diamond ring, somewhat showy, but +obviously quite expensive. Hopkins's semi-envious admiration made +Gilmartin add, genially: "What do you say to lunch? I feel I am entitled +to a glass of 'fizz' to forget my bad luck of this morning." Then, in +an exaggeratedly apologetic tone: "Nobody likes to lose five hundred +dollars on an empty stomach!" + +"She'll be delighted, of course," said Hopkins, thinking of Mrs. +Gilmartin. Mrs. Hopkins loved jewelry. + +"She's the nicest little woman that ever lived. Whatever is mine is +hers; and what's hers is her own. Ha! ha! But," becoming nicely serious, +"all that I'll make out of the stock market I'm going to put away for +her, in her name. She can take better care of it than I; and, besides, +she's entitled to it, anyhow, for being so nice to me." + +That is how he told what a good husband he was. He felt so pleased over +it that he went on, sincerely regretful: "She's visiting friends +in Pennsylvania or I'd ask you to dine with us." And they went to a +fashionable restaurant together. + +Day after day Gilmartin thought persistently that Maiden Lane was too +far from Wall Street. There came a week in which he could have made four +very handsome "turns" had he but been in the brokers' office. He was out +on business for his firm and when he returned the opportunity had +gone, leaving behind it vivid visions of what might have been; also the +conviction that time, tide, and the ticker wait for no man. Instead of +buying and selling quinine and balsams and essential oils for Maxwell +& Kip, drug brokers and importers, he decided to make the buying and +selling of stocks and bonds his exclusive business. The hours were easy; +the profits would be great. He would make enough to live on. He would +not let the Street take away what it had given. That was the great +secret: to know when to quit! He would be content with a moderate +amount, wisely invested in gilt-edged bonds. And then he would bid the +Street good-by forever. + +Force of long business custom and the indefinable fear of new ventures +for a time fought successfully his increasing ticker-fever. But one day +his brokers wished to speak to him, to urge him to sell out his entire +holdings, having been advised of an epoch-making resolution by Congress. +They had received the news in advance from a Washington customer. Other +brokers had important connections in the Capital and therefore there was +no time to lose. They dared not assume the responsibilty of selling +him out without his permission. Five minutes--five eternities!--passed +before they could talk by telephone with him; and when he gave his order +to sell, the market had broken five or six points. The news was "out." +The news agencies' slips were in the brokers' offices and half of Wall +Street knew. Instead of being among the first ten sellers Gilmartin was +among the second hundred. + + + + +II + +The clerks gave him a farewell dinner. All were there, even the head +office-boy to whom the two-dollar subscription was no light matter. The +man who probably would succeed Gilmartin as manager, Jenkins, acted as +toastmaster. He made a witty speech which ended with a neatly turned +compliment. Moreover, he seemed sincerely sorry to bid good-by to the +man whose departure meant promotion--which was the nicest compliment of +all. And the other clerks--old Williamson, long since ambition-proof; +and young Hardy, bitten ceaselessly by it; and middle-aged Jameson, who +knew he could run the business much better than Gilmartin; and Baldwin, +who never thought of business in or out of the office--all told him how +good he had been and related corroborative anecdotes that made him blush +and the others cheer; and how sorry they were he would no longer be with +them, but how glad he was going to do so much better by himself; and +they hoped he would not "cut" them when he met them after he had become +a great millionaire. And Gilmartin felt his heart grow soft and feelings +not all of happiness came over him. Danny, the dean of the office boys, +whose surname was known only to the cashier, rose and said, in the tones +of one speaking of a dear departed friend: "He was the best man in the +place. He always was all right." Everybody laughed; whereupon Danny went +on, with a defiant glare at the others: "I'd work for him for nothin' if +he'd want me, instead of gettin' ten a week from any one else." And when +they laughed the harder at this he said, stoutly: "Yes, I would!" His +eyes filled with tears at their incredulity, which he feared might be +shared by Mr. Gilmartin. But the toastmaster rose very gravely and said: +"What's the matter with Danny?" And all shouted in unison: "He's all +right!" with a cordiality so heartfelt that Danny smiled and sat down, +blushing happily. And crusty Jameson, who knew he could run the business +so much better than Gilmartin, stood up--he was the last speaker--and +began: "In the ten years I've worked with Gilmartin, we've had our +differences and--well--I--well--er--oh, damn it!" and walked quickly to +the head of the table and shook hands violently with Gilmartin for fully +a minute, while all the others looked on in silence. + +Gilmartin had been eager to go to Wall Street. But this leave-taking +made him sad. The old Gilmartin who had worked with these men was no +more and the new Gilmartin felt sorry. He had never stopped to think how +much they cared for him nor indeed how very much he cared for them. + +He told them, very simply, he did not expect ever again to spend such +pleasant years anywhere as at the old office; and as for his spells of +ill-temper--oh, yes, they needn't shake their heads; he knew he often +was irritable--he had meant well and trusted they would forgive him. If +he had his life to live over again he would try really to deserve all +that they had said of him on this evening. And he was very, very sorry +to leave them. "Very sorry, boys; very sorry. _Very_ sorry!" he finished +lamely, with a wistful smile. He shook hands with each man--a strong +grip, as though he were about to go on a journey from which he might +never return--and in his heart of hearts there was a new doubt of the +wisdom of going to Wall Street. But it was too late to draw back. + +They escorted him to his house. They wished to be with him to the last +possible minute. + + + + +III + +Everybody in the drug trade seemed to think that Gilmartin was on +the highroad to Fortune. Those old business acquaintances and former +competitors whom he happened to meet in the street-cars or in the +theatre lobbies always spoke to him as to a millionaire-to-be, in what +they imagined was correct Wall Street jargon, to show him that they too +knew something of the great game. But their efforts made him smile with +a sense of superiority, at the same time that their admiration for his +cleverness and their good-natured envy for his luck made his soul thrill +joyously. Among his new friends in Wall Street also he found much to +enjoy. The other customers--some of them very wealthy men--listened to +his views regarding the market as attentively as he, later, felt it his +polite duty to listen to theirs. The brokers themselves treated him as +a "good fellow." They cajoled him into trading often--every one hundred +shares he bought or sold meant $12.50 to them--and when he won, they +praised his unerring discernment. When he lost they soothed him by +scolding him for his recklessness--just as a mother will treat her +three-year-old's fall as a great joke in order to deceive the child into +laughing at its misfortune. It was an average office with an average +clientele. + +From ten to three they stood before the quotation board and watched a +quick-witted boy chalk the price changes, which one or another of the +customers read aloud from the tape as it came from the ticker. The +higher stocks went the more numerous the customers became, being allured +in great flocks to the Street by the tales of their friends, who had +profited greatly by the rise. All were winning, for all were buying +stocks in a bull market. They resembled each other marvelously, these +men who differed so greatly in cast of features and complexion and age. +Life to all of them was full of joy. The very ticker sounded mirthful; +its clicking told of golden jokes. And Gilmartin and the other customers +laughed heartily at the mildest of stories without even waiting for the +point of the joke. At times their fingers clutched the air happily, as +if they actually felt the good money the ticker was presenting to them. +They were all neophytes at the great game--lambkins who were bleating +blithely to inform the world what clever and formidable wolves they +were. Some of them had sustained occasional losses; but these were +trifling compared with their winnings. + +When the slump came all were heavily committed to the bull side. It was +a bad slump. It was so unexpected--by the lambs--that all of them said, +very gravely, it came like a thunderclap out of a clear sky. While it +lasted, that is, while the shearing of the flock was proceeding, it +was very uncomfortable. Those same joyous, winning stock-gamblers, +with beaming faces, of the week before, were fear-clutched, losing +stock-gamblers, with livid faces, on what they afterward called the day +of the panic. It really was only a slump; rather sharper than usual. +Too many lambs had been over-speculating. The wholesale dealers in +securities--and insecurities--held very little of their own wares, +having sold them to the lambs, and wanted them back now--cheaper. The +customers' eyes, as on happier days, were intent on the quotation board. +Their dreams were rudely shattered; the fast horses some had all +but bought joined the steam yachts others almost had chartered. The +beautiful homes they had been building were torn down in the twinkling +of an eye. And the demolisher of dreams and dwellings was the ticker, +that instead of golden jokes was now clicking financial death. They +could not take their eyes from the board before them. Their own ruin, +told in mournful numbers by the little machine, fascinated them. To be +sure, poor Gilmartin said: "I've changed my mind about Newport. I guess +I'll spend the summer on my own _Hotel de Roof!_" And he grinned; but +he grinned alone. Wilson, the dry goods man, who laughed so joyously at +everybody's jokes, was now watching, as if under a hypnotic spell, the +lips of the man who sat on the high stool beside the ticker and called +out the prices to the quotation boy. Now and again Wilson's own lips +made curious grimaces, as if speaking to himself. Brown, the slender, +pale-faced man, was outside in the hall, pacing to and fro. All was +lost, including honor. And he was afraid to look at the ticker, afraid +to hear the prices shouted, yet hoping--for a miracle! Gil-martin came +out from the office, saw Brown and said, with sickly bravado: "I held +out as long as I could. But they got _my_ ducats. A sporting life comes +high, I tell you!" But Brown did not heed him, and Gilmartin pushed the +elevator button impatiently and cursed at the delay. He not only had +lost the "paper" profits he had accumulated during the bull market, but +all his savings of years had crumbled away beneath the strokes of the +ticker that day. It was the same with all. They would not take a small +loss at first, but had held on, in the hope of a recovery that would +"let them out even." And prices had sunk and sunk until the loss was +so great that it seemed only proper to hold on, if need be a year, for +sooner or later prices must come back. But the break "shook them out," +and prices went just so much lower because so many people had to sell +whether they would or not. + + + + +IV + +After the slump most of the customers returned to their legitimate +business--sadder, but it is to be feared not much wiser men. Gilmartin, +after the first numbing shock, tried to learn of fresh opportunities in +the drug business. But his heart was not in his search. There was the +shame of confessing defeat in Wall Street so soon after leaving Maiden +Lane; but far stronger than this was the effect of the poison of +gambling. If it was bad enough to be obliged to begin lower than he had +been at Maxwell & Kip's, it was worse to condemn himself to long weary +years of work in the drug business when his reward, if he remained +strong and healthy, would consist merely in being able to save a few +thousands. But a few lucky weeks in the stock market would win him back +all he had lost--and more! + +He should have begun in a small way while he was learning to speculate. +He saw it now very clearly. Every one of his mistakes had been due to +inexperience. He had imagined he knew the market. But it was only now +that he really knew it, and therefore it was only now, after the slump +had taught him so much, that he could reasonably hope to succeed. His +mind, brooding over his losses, definitely dismissed as futile the +resumption of the purchase and sale of drugs, and dwelt persistently on +the sudden acquisition of stock market wisdom. Properly applied, this +wisdom ought to mean much to him. In a few weeks he was again spending +his days before the quotation board, gossiping with those customers who +had survived, giving and receiving advice. And as time passed the grip +of Wall Street on his soul grew stronger until it strangled all other +aspirations. He could talk, think, dream of nothing but stocks. He could +not read the newspapers without thinking how the market would "take" the +news contained therein. If a huge refinery burned down, with a loss to +the "Trust" of $4,000,000, he sighed because he had not foreseen the +catastrophe and had sold Sugar short. If a strike by the men of the +Suburban Trolley Company led to violence and destruction of life and +property, he cursed an unrelenting Fate because he had not had the +prescience to "put out" a thousand shares of Trolley. And he constantly +calculated to the last fraction of a point how much money he would +have made if he had sold short just before the calamity at the very top +prices and had covered his stock at the bottom. Had he only known! The +atmosphere of the Street, the odor of speculation surrounded him on all +sides, enveloped him like a fog, from which the things of the outside +world appeared as though seen through a veil. He lived in the district +where men do not say "Good-morning" on meeting one another, but "How's +the market?" or, when one asks: "How do you feel?" receives for an +answer: "Bullish!" or "Bearish!" instead of a reply regarding the state +of health. + +At first, after the fatal slump, Gilmartin importuned his brokers to +let him speculate on credit, in a small way. They did. They were kindly +enough men and sincerely wished to help him. But luck ran against him. +With the obstinacy of unsuperstitious gamblers he insisted on fighting +Fate. He was a bull in a bear market; and the more he lost the more +he thought the inevitable "rally" in prices was due. He bought in +expectation of it and lost again and again, until he owed the brokers a +greater sum than he could possibly pay; and they refused point blank to +give him credit for another cent, disregarding his vehement entreaties +to buy a last hundred, just one more chance, the last, because he would +be sure to win. And, of course, the long-expected happened and the +market went up with a rapidity that made the Street blink; and Gilmartin +figured that had not the brokers refused his last order, he would have +made enough to pay off the indebtedness and have left, in addition, +$2,950; for he would have "pyramided" on the way up. He showed the +brokers his figures, accusingly, and they had some words about it and +he left the office, almost tempted to sue the firm for conspiracy +with intent to defraud; but decided that it was "another of Luck's +sockdolagers" and let it go at that, gambler-like. + +When he returned to the brokers' office--the next day--he began to +speculate in the only way he could--vicariously. Smith, for instance, +who was long of 500 St. Paul at 125, took less interest in the deal than +did Gilmartin, who thenceforth assiduously studied the news slips +and sought information on St. Paul all over the Street, listening +thrillingly to tips and rumors regarding the stock, suffering keenly +when the price declined, laughing and chirruping blithely if the +quotations moved upward, exactly as though it were his own stock. In a +measure it was as an anodyne to his ticker fever. Indeed, in some cases +his interest was so poignant and his advice so frequent--he would speak +of _our_ deal--that the lucky winner gave him a small share of his +spoils, which Gilmartin accepted without hesitation--he was beyond +pride-wounding by now--and promptly used to back some miniature deal +of his own on the Consolidated Exchange or even in "Percy's"--a dingy +little bucket shop, where they took orders for two shares of stock on +a margin of 1 per cent; that is, where a man could bet as little as two +dollars. + +Later, it often came to pass that Gilmartin would borrow a few dollars +when the customers were not trading actively. The amounts he borrowed +diminished by reason of the increasing frequency of their refusals. +Finally, he was asked to stay away from the office where once he had +been an honored and pampered customer. + +He became a Wall Street "has been" and could be seen daily on New +Street, back of the Consolidated Exchange, where the "put" and "call" +brokers congregate. The tickers in the saloons nearby fed his gambler's +appetite. From time to time luckier men took him into the same +be-tickered saloons, where he ate at the free lunch counters and drank +beer and talked stocks and listened to the lucky winners' narratives +with lips tremulous with readiness to smile and grimace. At times the +gambler in him would assert itself and he would tell the lucky winners, +wrathfully, how the stock he wished to buy but couldn't the week before +had risen 18 points. But they, saturated with their own ticker fever, +would nod absently, their soul's eyes fixed on some quotation-to-be; or +they would not nod at all, but in their eagerness to look at the tape, +from which they had been absent two long minutes, would leave him +without a single word of consolation or even of farewell. + + + + +V + +One day, in New Street, he overheard a very well-known broker tell +another that Mr. Sharpe was "going to move up Pennsylvania Central right +away." The overhearing of the conversation was a bit of rare good luck +that raised Gil-martin from his sodden apathy and made him hasten to his +brother-in-law, who kept a grocery store in Brooklyn. He implored Griggs +to go to a broker and buy as much Pennsylvania Central as he could--that +is, if he wished to live in luxury the rest of his life. Sam Sharpe was +going to put it up. Also, he borrowed ten dollars. + +Griggs was tempted. He debated with himself many hours, and at length +yielded with misgivings. He took his savings and bought one hundred +shares of Pennsylvania Central at 64, and began to neglect his business +in order to study the financial pages of the newspapers. Little by +little Gilmartin's whisper set in motion within him the wheels of a +ticker that printed on his day-dreams the mark of the dollar. His wife, +seeing him preoccupied, thought business was bad; but Griggs denied +it, confirming her worst fears. Finally, he had a telephone put in his +little shop, to be able to talk to his broker. + +Gilmartin, with the ten dollars he had borrowed, promptly bought ten +shares in a bucket shop at 63%; the stock promptly went to 62%; he was +promptly "wiped"; and the stock promptly went back to 64%. + +On the next day a fellow-customer of Gilmartin of old days invited him +to have a drink. Gil-martin resented the man's evident prosperity. He +felt indignant at the ability of the other to buy hundreds of shares. +But the liquor soothed him, and in a burst of mild remorse he told +Smithers, after an apprehensive look about him as if he feared some one +might overhear: "I'll tell you something, on the dead q. t., for your +own benefit." + +"Fire away!" + +"Pa. Cent, is going 'way up." + +"Yes?" said Smithers, calmly. + +"Yes; it will cross par sure." + +"Umph!" between munches of a pretzel. + +"Yes. Sam Sharpe told"--Gilmartin was on the point of saying a "friend +of mine," but caught himself and went on, impressively--"told me, +yesterday, to buy Pa. Cent., as he had accumulated his full line, and +was ready to whoop it up. And you know what Sharpe is," he finished, as +if he thought Smithers was familiar with Sharpe's powers. + +"Is that so," nibbled Smithers. + +"Why, when Sharpe makes up his mind to put up a stock, as he intends to +do with Pa. Cent., nothing on earth can stop him. He told me he would +make it cross par within sixty days. This is no hearsay, no tip. It's +cold facts, I don't _hear_ it's going up; I don't _think_ it's going up; +I _know_ it's going up. Understand?" And he shook his right forefinger +with a hammering motion. + +In less than five minutes Smithers was so wrought up that he bought 500 +shares and promised solemnly not to "take his profits," s. o. sell out, +until Gilmartin said the word. Then they had another drink and another +look at the ticker. + +"You want to keep in touch with me," was Gilmartin's parting shot. +"I'll tell you what Sharpe tells me. But you must keep it quiet," with a +sidewise nod that pledged Smithers to honorable secrecy. + +Had Gilmartin met Sharpe face to face, he would not have known who was +before him. + +Shortly after he left Smithers he buttonholed another acquaintance, +a young man who thought he knew Wall Street, and therefore had a +hobby--manipulation. No one could induce him to buy stocks by telling +him how well the companies were doing, how bright the prospects, etc. +That was bait for "suckers," not for clever young stock operators. +But any one, even a stranger, who said that "they"--the perennially +mysterious "they," the "big men," the mighty "manipulators" whose +life was one prolonged conspiracy to pull the wool over the public's +eyes--"they" were going to "jack up" these or the other shares, was +welcomed and his advice acted upon. Young Freeman believed in nothing +but "their" wickedness and "their" power to advance or depress stock +values at will. Thinking of his wisdom had given him a chronic sneer. + +"You're just the man I was looking for," said Gilmartin, who hadn't +thought of the young man at all. + +"Are you a deputy sheriff?" + +"No." A slight pause for oratorical effect. "I had a long talk with Sam +to-day." + +"What Sam?" + +"Sharpe. The old boy sent for me. He was in mighty good humor +too. Tickled to death. He might well be--he's got 60,000 shares of +Pennsylvania Central. And there's going to be from 50 to 60 points +profit in it." + +"H'm!" sniffed Freeman, sceptically, yet impressed by the change In +Gilmartin's attitude from the money-borrowing humility of the previous +week to the confident tone of a man with a straight tip. Sharpe was +notoriously kind to his old friends--rich or poor. + +"I was there when the papers were signed," Gilmartin said, hotly. "I +was going to leave the room, but Sam told me I needn't. I can't tell you +what it is about; really I can't. But he's simply going to put the stock +above par. It's 64 1/2 now, and you know and I know that by the time it +is 75 the newspapers will all be talking about inside buying; and at 85 +everybody will want to buy it on account of important developments; and +at 95 there will be millions of bull tips on it and rumors of increased +dividends, and people who would not look at it thirty points lower will +rush in and buy it by the bushel. Let me know who is manipulating a +stock, and to h--l with dividends and earnings. Them's _my_ sentiments," +with a final hammering nod, as if driving in a profound truth. + +"Same here," assented Freeman, cordially. He was attacked on his +vulnerable side. + +Strange things happen in Wall Street. Sometimes tips come true. It so +proved in this case. Sharpe started the stock upward brilliantly--the +movement became historic in the Street--and Pa. Cent, soared dizzily and +all the newspapers talked of it and the public went mad over it and +it touched 80 and 85 and 88 and higher, and then Gilmartin made his +brother-in-law sell out and Smithers and Freeman. Their profits were: +Griggs, $8,000; Smithers, $15,100; Freeman, $2,750. Gilmartin made them +give him a good percentage. He had no trouble with his brother-in-law. +Gilmartin told him it was an inviolable Wall Street custom and so Griggs +paid, with an air of much experience in such matters. Freeman was more +or less grateful. But Smithers met Gilmartin, and full of his good luck +repeated what he had told a dozen men within the hour: "I did a dandy +stroke the other day. Pa. Cent. looked to me like higher prices and I +bought a wad of it. I've cleaned up a tidy sum," and he looked proud of +his own penetration. He really had forgotten that it was Gilmartin who +had given him the tip. But not so Gilmartin, who retorted, witheringly: + +"Well, I've often heard of folks that you put into good things and they +make money and afterward they come to you and tell how damned smart +they were to hit it right. But you can't work that on me. I've got +witnesses." + +"Witnesses?" echoed Smithers, looking cheap. He remembered. + +"Yes, wit-ness-es," mimicked Gilmartin, scornfully, "I all but had to +get on my knees to make you buy it. And I told you when to sell it, too. +The information came to me straight from headquarters and you got +the use of it, and now the least you can do is to give me twenty-five +hundred dollars." + +In the end he accepted eight hundred dollars. He told mutual friends +that Smithers had cheated him. + + + + +VI + +It seemed as though the regeneration of Gilmartin had been achieved +when he changed his shabby raiment for expensive clothes. He paid his +tradesmen's bills and moved into better quarters. He spent his money as +though he had made millions. One week after he had closed out the deal +his friends would have sworn Gilmartin had always been prosperous. That +was his exterior. His inner self remained the same--a gambler. He began +to speculate again, in the office of Freeman's brokers. + +At the end of the second month he had lost not only the $1,200 he had +deposited with the firm, but an additional $250 he had given his wife +and had been obliged to "borrow" back from her, despite her assurances +that he would lose it. This time the slump was really unexpected by +all, even by the magnates--the mysterious and all-powerful "they" of +Freeman's--so that the loss of the second fortune did not reflect on +Gilmartin's ability as a speculator, but on his luck. As a matter +of fact, he had been too careful and had sinned from over-timidity at +first, only to plunge later and lose all. + +As the result of much thought about his losses Gilmartin became a +professional tipster. To let others speculate for him seemed the only +sure way of winning. He began by advising ten victims--he learned in +time to call them clients--to sell Steel Rod preferred, each man 100 +shares; and to a second ten he urged the purchase of the same quantity +of the same stock. To all he advised taking four points' profit. Not all +followed his advice, but the seven clients who sold it made between them +nearly $3,000 overnight. His percentage amounted to $287.50. Six bought, +and when they lost he told them confidentially how the treachery of a +leading member of the pool had obliged the pool managers to withdraw +their support from the stock temporarily, whence the decline. They +grumbled; but he assured them that he himself had lost nearly $1,600 of +his own on account of the traitor. + +For some months Gilmartin made a fair living, but business became very +dull. People learned to fight shy of his tips. The persuasiveness was +gone from his inside news and from his confidential advice from Sharpe +and from his beholding with his own eyes the signing of epoch-making +documents. Had he been able to make his customers alternate their +winnings and losses he might have kept his trade. But, for example, +"Dave" Rossiter, in Stuart & Stern's office, stupidly received the +wrong tip six times in succession. It wasn't Gilmartin's fault, but +Rossiter's bad luck. + +At length, failing to get enough clients in the ticker district itself, +Gilmartin was forced to advertise in an afternoon paper, six times a +week, and in the Sunday edition of one of the leading morning dailies. +They ran like this: + + WE MAKE MONEY + + for our Investors by the best system ever devised. Deal with + genuine experts. Two methods of operating; one speculative, + the other ensures absolute safety. + + + NOW + + is the time to invest in a certain stock for ten points sure + profit Three points margin will carry it. Remember how + correct we have been on other stocks. Take advantage of + this move. + + + IOWA MIDLAND. + + Big movement coming in this stock. If s very near at hand. + Am waiting daily for word. Will get it in time. Splendid + opportunity to make big money. It costs only a 2-cent stamp + to write to me. + + + CONFIDENTIAL INFORMATION. + + Private secretary of banker and stock operator of world-wide + reputation has valuable information. I don't wish your + money. Use your own broker. All I want is a share of what + you will surely make if you follow my advice. + + + WILL ADVANCE $40 PER SHARE. + + A fortune to be made in a railroad stock. Deal pending which + will advance same $40 per share within three months. Am in + position to keep informed as to developments and the + operations of a pool. Parties who will carry for me 100 + shares with a New York Stock Exchange house will receive the + full benefit of information. Investment safe and sure. + Highest references given. + +He prospered amazingly. Answers came to him from furniture dealers on +Fourth Avenue and dairymen up the State and fruit growers in Delaware +and factory workers in Massachusetts and electricians in New Jersey and +coal miners in Pennsylvania and shopkeepers and physicians and plumbers +and undertakers in towns and cities near and far. Every morning +Gilmartin telegraphed to scores of people--at their expense--to sell, +and to scores of others to buy the same stocks. And he claimed his +commissions from the winners. + +Little by little his savings grew; and with them grew his desire to +speculate on his own account. It made him irritable not to gamble. + +He met Freeman one day in one of his dissatisfied moods. Out of +politeness he asked the young cynic the universal query of the Street: + +"What do you think of 'em?" He meant stocks. + +"What difference does it make what I think?" sneered Freeman, with +proud humility. "I'm nobody." But he looked as if he did not agree with +himself. + +"What do you _know?_" pursued Gilmartin mollifyingly. + +"I know enough to be long of Gotham Gas. I just bought a thousand shares +at 180." He really had bought a hundred only. + +"What on?" + +"On information. I got it straight from a director of the company. Look +here, Gilmartin, I'm pledged to secrecy. But, for your own benefit, I'll +just tell you to buy all the Gas you possibly can carry. The deal is on. +I know that certain papers were signed last night, and they are almost +ready to spring it on the public. They haven't got all the stock they +want. When they get it, look out for fireworks." + +Gilmartin did not perceive any resemblance between Freeman's tips and +his own. + +He said, hesitatingly, as though ashamed of his timidity: + +"The stock seems pretty high at 180." + +"You won't think so when it sells at 250. Gilmartin, I don't _hear_ +this; I don't _think_ it; I _know_ it!" + +"All right; I'm in," quoth Gilmartin, jovially. He felt a sense of +emancipation now that he had made up his mind to resume his speculating. +He took every cent of the nine hundred dollars he had made from telling +people the same things that Freeman told him now, and bought a hundred +Gotham Gas at $185 a share. Also he telegraphed to all his clients to +plunge in the stock. + +It fluctuated between 184 and 186 for a fortnight. Freeman daily +asseverated that "they" were accumulating the stock. But, one fine day, +the directors met, agreed that business was bad, and having sold out +most of their own holdings, decided to reduce the dividend rate from 8 +to 6 per cent. Gotham Gas broke seventeen points in ten short minutes. +Gilmartin lost all he had. He found it impossible to pay for his +advertisements. The telegraph companies refused to accept any more +"collect" messages. This deprived Gilmartin of his income as a tipster. +Griggs had kept on speculating and had lost all his money and his wife's +in a little deal in Iowa Midland. All that Gilmartin could hope to get +from him was an occasional invitation to dinner. Mrs. Gilmartin, after +they were dispossessed for non-payment of rent, left her husband, and +went to live with a sister in Newark who did not like Gilmartin. + +His clothes became shabby and his meals irregular. But always in his +heart, as abiding as an inventor's faith in himself, there dwelt the +hope that some day, somehow, he would "strike it rich" in the stock +market. + +One day he borrowed five dollars from a man who had made five thousand +in Cosmopolitan Traction. The stock, the man said, had only begun to go +up, and Gilmartin believed it and bought five shares in "Percy's," his +favorite bucket shop. The stock began to rise slowly but steadily. The +next afternoon "Percy's" was raided, the proprietor having disagreed +with the police as to price. + +Gilmartin lingered about New Street, talking with other customers of the +raided bucket shop, discussing whether or not it was a "put up job" of +old Percy himself, who, it was known, had been losing money to the crowd +for weeks past. One by one the victims went away and at length Gilmartin +left the ticker district. He walked slowly down Wall Street, then turned +up William Street, thinking of his luck. Cosmopolitan Traction had +certainly looked like higher prices. Indeed, it seemed to him that he +could almost hear the stock shouting, articulately: "_I'm going up, right +away, right away!_" If somebody would buy a thousand shares and agree to +give him the profits on a hundred, on ten, on one! + +But he had not even his carfare. Then he remembered that he had not +eaten since breakfast. It did him no good to remember it now. He would +have to get his dinner from Griggs in Brooklyn. + +"Why," Gilmartin told himself with a burst of curious self-contempt, "I +can't even buy a cup of coffee!" + +He raised his head and looked about him to find how insignificant a +restaurant it was in which he could not buy even a cup of coffee. He +had reached Maiden Lane. As his glance ran up and down the north side of +that street, it was arrested by the sign: + + MAXWELL & KIP + +At first he felt but vaguely what it meant. It had grown unfamiliar +with absence. The clerks were coming out. Jameson, looking crustier than +ever, as though he were forever thinking how much better than Jenkins he +could run the business; Danny, some inches taller, no longer an office +boy, but spick and span in a blue serge suit and a necktie of the latest +style, exhaling health and correctness; Williamson, grown very gray and +showing on his face thirty years of routine; Baldwin, happy as of +yore at the ending of the day's work, and smiling at the words of +Jenkins--Gilmartin's successor, who wore an air of authority, of the +habit of command which he had not known in the old days. + +Of a sudden Gilmartin was in the midst of his old life. He saw all that +he had been, all that he might still be. And he was overwhelmed. He +longed to rush to his old associates, to speak to them, to shake hands +with them, to be the old Gilmartin. He was about to step toward Jenkins, +but stopped abruptly. His clothes were shabby, and he felt ashamed. But, +he apologized to himself, he could tell them how he had made a hundred +thousand and had lost it. And he even might borrow a few dollars from +Jenkins. + +Gilmartin turned on his heel with a sudden impulse and walked away from +Maiden Lane quickly. All that he thought now was that he would not +have them see him in his plight. He felt the shabbiness of his clothes +without looking at them. As he walked, a great sense of loneliness came +over him. + +He was back in Wall Street. At the head of the Street was old Trinity; +to the right the Sub-Treasury; to the left the Stock Exchange. + +From Maiden Lane to the Lane of the Ticker--such had been his life. + +"If I could only buy some Cosmopolitan Traction!" he said. Then he +walked forlornly northward, to the great bridge, on his way to Brooklyn, +to eat with Griggs, the ruined grocery man. + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Tipster, by Edwin Lefevre + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TIPSTER *** + +***** This file should be named 23171.txt or 23171.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/3/1/7/23171/ + +Produced by David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Tipster + 1901, From "Wall Street Stories" + +Author: Edwin Lefevre + +Release Date: October 24, 2007 [EBook #23171] +Last Updated: November 10, 2016 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TIPSTER *** + + + + +Produced by David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + <div style="height: 8em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h1> + THE TIPSTER + </h1> + <h2> + By Edwin Lefevre + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h4> + From “Wall Street Stories.” Copyright, 1901, by McClure, Phillips & + Co. + </h4> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + Contents + </h2> + <table summary="" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto"> + <tr> + <td> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> I </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> II </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> III </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0004"> IV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0005"> V </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0006"> VI </a> + </p> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + I + </h2> + <p> + Glmartin was still laughing professionally at the prospective buyer’s + funny story when the telephone on his desk buzzed. He said: “Excuse me for + a minute, old man,” to the customer—Hopkins, the Connecticut + manufacturer. + </p> + <p> + “Hello; who is this?” he spoke into the transmitter. “Oh, how are you?—Yes—I + was out—Is that so?—Too bad—Too bad—Yes; just my + luck to be out. I might have known it!—Do you think so?—Well, + then, sell the 200 Occidental common—You know best—What about + Trolley?—Hold on?—All right; just as you say—I hope so—I + don’t like to lose, and—Ha! ha!—I guess so—Good-by.” + </p> + <p> + “It’s from my brokers,” explained Gilmartin, hanging up the receiver. “I’d + have saved five hundred dollars if I had been here at half-past ten. They + called me up to advise me to sell out, and the price is off over three + points. I could have got out at a profit this morning; but no, sir; not I. + I had to be away, trying to buy some camphor.” + </p> + <p> + Hopkins was impressed. Gilmartin perceived it and went on, with an air of + comical wrath which he thought was preferable to indifference: “It isn’t + the money I mind so much as the tough luck of it. I didn’t make my trade + in camphor after all and I lost in stocks, when if I’d only waited five + minutes more in the office I’d have got the message from my brokers and + saved my five hundred. Expensive, my time is, eh?” with a woful shake of + the head. + </p> + <p> + “But you’re ahead of the game, aren’t you?” asked the customer, + interestedly. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I guess yes. Just about twelve thousand.” + </p> + <p> + That was more than Gilmartin had made; but having exaggerated, he + immediately felt very kindly disposed toward the Connecticut man. + </p> + <p> + “Whew!” whistled Hopkins, admiringly. Gilmartin experienced a great + tenderness toward him. The lie was made stingless by the customer’s + credulity. This brought a smile of subtle relief to Gilmartin’s lips. He + was a pleasant-faced, pleasant-voiced man of three-and-thirty. He exhaled + health, contentment, neatness, and an easy conscience. Honesty and + good-nature shone in his eyes. People liked to shake hands with him. It + made his friends talk of his lucky star; and they envied him. + </p> + <p> + “I bought this yesterday for my wife; took it out of a little deal in + Trolley,” he told Hopkins, taking a small jewel-box from one of the desk’s + drawers. It contained a diamond ring, somewhat showy, but obviously quite + expensive. Hopkins’s semi-envious admiration made Gilmartin add, genially: + “What do you say to lunch? I feel I am entitled to a glass of ‘fizz’ to + forget my bad luck of this morning.” Then, in an exaggeratedly apologetic + tone: “Nobody likes to lose five hundred dollars on an empty stomach!” + </p> + <p> + “She’ll be delighted, of course,” said Hopkins, thinking of Mrs. + Gilmartin. Mrs. Hopkins loved jewelry. + </p> + <p> + “She’s the nicest little woman that ever lived. Whatever is mine is hers; + and what’s hers is her own. Ha! ha! But,” becoming nicely serious, “all + that I’ll make out of the stock market I’m going to put away for her, in + her name. She can take better care of it than I; and, besides, she’s + entitled to it, anyhow, for being so nice to me.” + </p> + <p> + That is how he told what a good husband he was. He felt so pleased over it + that he went on, sincerely regretful: “She’s visiting friends in + Pennsylvania or I’d ask you to dine with us.” And they went to a + fashionable restaurant together. + </p> + <p> + Day after day Gilmartin thought persistently that Maiden Lane was too far + from Wall Street. There came a week in which he could have made four very + handsome “turns” had he but been in the brokers’ office. He was out on + business for his firm and when he returned the opportunity had gone, + leaving behind it vivid visions of what might have been; also the + conviction that time, tide, and the ticker wait for no man. Instead of + buying and selling quinine and balsams and essential oils for Maxwell + & Kip, drug brokers and importers, he decided to make the buying and + selling of stocks and bonds his exclusive business. The hours were easy; + the profits would be great. He would make enough to live on. He would not + let the Street take away what it had given. That was the great secret: to + know when to quit! He would be content with a moderate amount, wisely + invested in gilt-edged bonds. And then he would bid the Street good-by + forever. + </p> + <p> + Force of long business custom and the indefinable fear of new ventures for + a time fought successfully his increasing ticker-fever. But one day his + brokers wished to speak to him, to urge him to sell out his entire + holdings, having been advised of an epoch-making resolution by Congress. + They had received the news in advance from a Washington customer. Other + brokers had important connections in the Capital and therefore there was + no time to lose. They dared not assume the responsibilty of selling him + out without his permission. Five minutes—five eternities!—passed + before they could talk by telephone with him; and when he gave his order + to sell, the market had broken five or six points. The news was “out.” The + news agencies’ slips were in the brokers’ offices and half of Wall Street + knew. Instead of being among the first ten sellers Gilmartin was among the + second hundred. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + II + </h2> + <p> + The clerks gave him a farewell dinner. All were there, even the head + office-boy to whom the two-dollar subscription was no light matter. The + man who probably would succeed Gilmartin as manager, Jenkins, acted as + toastmaster. He made a witty speech which ended with a neatly turned + compliment. Moreover, he seemed sincerely sorry to bid good-by to the man + whose departure meant promotion—which was the nicest compliment of + all. And the other clerks—old Williamson, long since ambition-proof; + and young Hardy, bitten ceaselessly by it; and middle-aged Jameson, who + knew he could run the business much better than Gilmartin; and Baldwin, + who never thought of business in or out of the office—all told him + how good he had been and related corroborative anecdotes that made him + blush and the others cheer; and how sorry they were he would no longer be + with them, but how glad he was going to do so much better by himself; and + they hoped he would not “cut” them when he met them after he had become a + great millionaire. And Gilmartin felt his heart grow soft and feelings not + all of happiness came over him. Danny, the dean of the office boys, whose + surname was known only to the cashier, rose and said, in the tones of one + speaking of a dear departed friend: “He was the best man in the place. He + always was all right.” Everybody laughed; whereupon Danny went on, with a + defiant glare at the others: “I’d work for him for nothin’ if he’d want + me, instead of gettin’ ten a week from any one else.” And when they + laughed the harder at this he said, stoutly: “Yes, I would!” His eyes + filled with tears at their incredulity, which he feared might be shared by + Mr. Gilmartin. But the toastmaster rose very gravely and said: “What’s the + matter with Danny?” And all shouted in unison: “He’s all right!” with a + cordiality so heartfelt that Danny smiled and sat down, blushing happily. + And crusty Jameson, who knew he could run the business so much better than + Gilmartin, stood up—he was the last speaker—and began: “In the + ten years I’ve worked with Gilmartin, we’ve had our differences and—well—I—well—er—oh, + damn it!” and walked quickly to the head of the table and shook hands + violently with Gilmartin for fully a minute, while all the others looked + on in silence. + </p> + <p> + Gilmartin had been eager to go to Wall Street. But this leave-taking made + him sad. The old Gilmartin who had worked with these men was no more and + the new Gilmartin felt sorry. He had never stopped to think how much they + cared for him nor indeed how very much he cared for them. + </p> + <p> + He told them, very simply, he did not expect ever again to spend such + pleasant years anywhere as at the old office; and as for his spells of + ill-temper—oh, yes, they needn’t shake their heads; he knew he often + was irritable—he had meant well and trusted they would forgive him. + If he had his life to live over again he would try really to deserve all + that they had said of him on this evening. And he was very, very sorry to + leave them. “Very sorry, boys; very sorry. <i>Very</i> sorry!” he finished + lamely, with a wistful smile. He shook hands with each man—a strong + grip, as though he were about to go on a journey from which he might never + return—and in his heart of hearts there was a new doubt of the + wisdom of going to Wall Street. But it was too late to draw back. + </p> + <p> + They escorted him to his house. They wished to be with him to the last + possible minute. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + III + </h2> + <p> + Everybody in the drug trade seemed to think that Gilmartin was on the + highroad to Fortune. Those old business acquaintances and former + competitors whom he happened to meet in the street-cars or in the theatre + lobbies always spoke to him as to a millionaire-to-be, in what they + imagined was correct Wall Street jargon, to show him that they too knew + something of the great game. But their efforts made him smile with a sense + of superiority, at the same time that their admiration for his cleverness + and their good-natured envy for his luck made his soul thrill joyously. + Among his new friends in Wall Street also he found much to enjoy. The + other customers—some of them very wealthy men—listened to his + views regarding the market as attentively as he, later, felt it his polite + duty to listen to theirs. The brokers themselves treated him as a “good + fellow.” They cajoled him into trading often—every one hundred + shares he bought or sold meant $12.50 to them—and when he won, they + praised his unerring discernment. When he lost they soothed him by + scolding him for his recklessness—just as a mother will treat her + three-year-old’s fall as a great joke in order to deceive the child into + laughing at its misfortune. It was an average office with an average + clientèle. + </p> + <p> + From ten to three they stood before the quotation board and watched a + quick-witted boy chalk the price changes, which one or another of the + customers read aloud from the tape as it came from the ticker. The higher + stocks went the more numerous the customers became, being allured in great + flocks to the Street by the tales of their friends, who had profited + greatly by the rise. All were winning, for all were buying stocks in a + bull market. They resembled each other marvelously, these men who differed + so greatly in cast of features and complexion and age. Life to all of them + was full of joy. The very ticker sounded mirthful; its clicking told of + golden jokes. And Gilmartin and the other customers laughed heartily at + the mildest of stories without even waiting for the point of the joke. At + times their fingers clutched the air happily, as if they actually felt the + good money the ticker was presenting to them. They were all neophytes at + the great game—lambkins who were bleating blithely to inform the + world what clever and formidable wolves they were. Some of them had + sustained occasional losses; but these were trifling compared with their + winnings. + </p> + <p> + When the slump came all were heavily committed to the bull side. It was a + bad slump. It was so unexpected—by the lambs—that all of them + said, very gravely, it came like a thunderclap out of a clear sky. While + it lasted, that is, while the shearing of the flock was proceeding, it was + very uncomfortable. Those same joyous, winning stock-gamblers, with + beaming faces, of the week before, were fear-clutched, losing + stock-gamblers, with livid faces, on what they afterward called the day of + the panic. It really was only a slump; rather sharper than usual. Too many + lambs had been over-speculating. The wholesale dealers in securities—and + insecurities—held very little of their own wares, having sold them + to the lambs, and wanted them back now—cheaper. The customers’ eyes, + as on happier days, were intent on the quotation board. Their dreams were + rudely shattered; the fast horses some had all but bought joined the steam + yachts others almost had chartered. The beautiful homes they had been + building were torn down in the twinkling of an eye. And the demolisher of + dreams and dwellings was the ticker, that instead of golden jokes was now + clicking financial death. They could not take their eyes from the board + before them. Their own ruin, told in mournful numbers by the little + machine, fascinated them. To be sure, poor Gilmartin said: “I’ve changed + my mind about Newport. I guess I’ll spend the summer on my own <i>Hotel de + Roof!</i>” And he grinned; but he grinned alone. Wilson, the dry goods + man, who laughed so joyously at everybody’s jokes, was now watching, as if + under a hypnotic spell, the lips of the man who sat on the high stool + beside the ticker and called out the prices to the quotation boy. Now and + again Wilson’s own lips made curious grimaces, as if speaking to himself. + Brown, the slender, pale-faced man, was outside in the hall, pacing to and + fro. All was lost, including honor. And he was afraid to look at the + ticker, afraid to hear the prices shouted, yet hoping—for a miracle! + Gil-martin came out from the office, saw Brown and said, with sickly + bravado: “I held out as long as I could. But they got <i>my</i> ducats. A + sporting life comes high, I tell you!” But Brown did not heed him, and + Gilmartin pushed the elevator button impatiently and cursed at the delay. + He not only had lost the “paper” profits he had accumulated during the + bull market, but all his savings of years had crumbled away beneath the + strokes of the ticker that day. It was the same with all. They would not + take a small loss at first, but had held on, in the hope of a recovery + that would “let them out even.” And prices had sunk and sunk until the + loss was so great that it seemed only proper to hold on, if need be a + year, for sooner or later prices must come back. But the break “shook them + out,” and prices went just so much lower because so many people had to + sell whether they would or not. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IV + </h2> + <p> + After the slump most of the customers returned to their legitimate + business—sadder, but it is to be feared not much wiser men. + Gilmartin, after the first numbing shock, tried to learn of fresh + opportunities in the drug business. But his heart was not in his search. + There was the shame of confessing defeat in Wall Street so soon after + leaving Maiden Lane; but far stronger than this was the effect of the + poison of gambling. If it was bad enough to be obliged to begin lower than + he had been at Maxwell & Kip’s, it was worse to condemn himself to + long weary years of work in the drug business when his reward, if he + remained strong and healthy, would consist merely in being able to save a + few thousands. But a few lucky weeks in the stock market would win him + back all he had lost—and more! + </p> + <p> + He should have begun in a small way while he was learning to speculate. He + saw it now very clearly. Every one of his mistakes had been due to + inexperience. He had imagined he knew the market. But it was only now that + he really knew it, and therefore it was only now, after the slump had + taught him so much, that he could reasonably hope to succeed. His mind, + brooding over his losses, definitely dismissed as futile the resumption of + the purchase and sale of drugs, and dwelt persistently on the sudden + acquisition of stock market wisdom. Properly applied, this wisdom ought to + mean much to him. In a few weeks he was again spending his days before the + quotation board, gossiping with those customers who had survived, giving + and receiving advice. And as time passed the grip of Wall Street on his + soul grew stronger until it strangled all other aspirations. He could + talk, think, dream of nothing but stocks. He could not read the newspapers + without thinking how the market would “take” the news contained therein. + If a huge refinery burned down, with a loss to the “Trust” of $4,000,000, + he sighed because he had not foreseen the catastrophe and had sold Sugar + short. If a strike by the men of the Suburban Trolley Company led to + violence and destruction of life and property, he cursed an unrelenting + Fate because he had not had the prescience to “put out” a thousand shares + of Trolley. And he constantly calculated to the last fraction of a point + how much money he would have made if he had sold short just before the + calamity at the very top prices and had covered his stock at the bottom. + Had he only known! The atmosphere of the Street, the odor of speculation + surrounded him on all sides, enveloped him like a fog, from which the + things of the outside world appeared as though seen through a veil. He + lived in the district where men do not say “Good-morning” on meeting one + another, but “How’s the market?” or, when one asks: “How do you feel?” + receives for an answer: “Bullish!” or “Bearish!” instead of a reply + regarding the state of health. + </p> + <p> + At first, after the fatal slump, Gilmartin importuned his brokers to let + him speculate on credit, in a small way. They did. They were kindly enough + men and sincerely wished to help him. But luck ran against him. With the + obstinacy of unsuperstitious gamblers he insisted on fighting Fate. He was + a bull in a bear market; and the more he lost the more he thought the + inevitable “rally” in prices was due. He bought in expectation of it and + lost again and again, until he owed the brokers a greater sum than he + could possibly pay; and they refused point blank to give him credit for + another cent, disregarding his vehement entreaties to buy a last hundred, + just one more chance, the last, because he would be sure to win. And, of + course, the long-expected happened and the market went up with a rapidity + that made the Street blink; and Gilmartin figured that had not the brokers + refused his last order, he would have made enough to pay off the + indebtedness and have left, in addition, $2,950; for he would have + “pyramided” on the way up. He showed the brokers his figures, accusingly, + and they had some words about it and he left the office, almost tempted to + sue the firm for conspiracy with intent to defraud; but decided that it + was “another of Luck’s sockdolagers” and let it go at that, gambler-like. + </p> + <p> + When he returned to the brokers’ office—the next day—he began + to speculate in the only way he could—vicariously. Smith, for + instance, who was long of 500 St. Paul at 125, took less interest in the + deal than did Gilmartin, who thenceforth assiduously studied the news + slips and sought information on St. Paul all over the Street, listening + thrillingly to tips and rumors regarding the stock, suffering keenly when + the price declined, laughing and chirruping blithely if the quotations + moved upward, exactly as though it were his own stock. In a measure it was + as an anodyne to his ticker fever. Indeed, in some cases his interest was + so poignant and his advice so frequent—he would speak of <i>our</i> + deal—that the lucky winner gave him a small share of his spoils, + which Gilmartin accepted without hesitation—he was beyond + pride-wounding by now—and promptly used to back some miniature deal + of his own on the Consolidated Exchange or even in “Percy’s”—a dingy + little bucket shop, where they took orders for two shares of stock on a + margin of 1 per cent; that is, where a man could bet as little as two + dollars. + </p> + <p> + Later, it often came to pass that Gilmartin would borrow a few dollars + when the customers were not trading actively. The amounts he borrowed + diminished by reason of the increasing frequency of their refusals. + Finally, he was asked to stay away from the office where once he had been + an honored and pampered customer. + </p> + <p> + He became a Wall Street “has been” and could be seen daily on New Street, + back of the Consolidated Exchange, where the “put” and “call” brokers + congregate. The tickers in the saloons nearby fed his gambler’s appetite. + From time to time luckier men took him into the same be-tickered saloons, + where he ate at the free lunch counters and drank beer and talked stocks + and listened to the lucky winners’ narratives with lips tremulous with + readiness to smile and grimace. At times the gambler in him would assert + itself and he would tell the lucky winners, wrathfully, how the stock he + wished to buy but couldn’t the week before had risen 18 points. But they, + saturated with their own ticker fever, would nod absently, their soul’s + eyes fixed on some quotation-to-be; or they would not nod at all, but in + their eagerness to look at the tape, from which they had been absent two + long minutes, would leave him without a single word of consolation or even + of farewell. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0005" id="link2H_4_0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + V + </h2> + <p> + One day, in New Street, he overheard a very well-known broker tell another + that Mr. Sharpe was “going to move up Pennsylvania Central right away.” + The overhearing of the conversation was a bit of rare good luck that + raised Gil-martin from his sodden apathy and made him hasten to his + brother-in-law, who kept a grocery store in Brooklyn. He implored Griggs + to go to a broker and buy as much Pennsylvania Central as he could—that + is, if he wished to live in luxury the rest of his life. Sam Sharpe was + going to put it up. Also, he borrowed ten dollars. + </p> + <p> + Griggs was tempted. He debated with himself many hours, and at length + yielded with misgivings. He took his savings and bought one hundred shares + of Pennsylvania Central at 64, and began to neglect his business in order + to study the financial pages of the newspapers. Little by little + Gilmartin’s whisper set in motion within him the wheels of a ticker that + printed on his day-dreams the mark of the dollar. His wife, seeing him + preoccupied, thought business was bad; but Griggs denied it, confirming + her worst fears. Finally, he had a telephone put in his little shop, to be + able to talk to his broker. + </p> + <p> + Gilmartin, with the ten dollars he had borrowed, promptly bought ten + shares in a bucket shop at 63%; the stock promptly went to 62%; he was + promptly “wiped”; and the stock promptly went back to 64%. + </p> + <p> + On the next day a fellow-customer of Gilmartin of old days invited him to + have a drink. Gil-martin resented the man’s evident prosperity. He felt + indignant at the ability of the other to buy hundreds of shares. But the + liquor soothed him, and in a burst of mild remorse he told Smithers, after + an apprehensive look about him as if he feared some one might overhear: + “I’ll tell you something, on the dead q. t., for your own benefit.” + </p> + <p> + “Fire away!” + </p> + <p> + “Pa. Cent, is going ‘way up.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes?” said Smithers, calmly. + </p> + <p> + “Yes; it will cross par sure.” + </p> + <p> + “Umph!” between munches of a pretzel. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Sam Sharpe told”—Gilmartin was on the point of saying a + “friend of mine,” but caught himself and went on, impressively—“told + me, yesterday, to buy Pa. Cent., as he had accumulated his full line, and + was ready to whoop it up. And you know what Sharpe is,” he finished, as if + he thought Smithers was familiar with Sharpe’s powers. + </p> + <p> + “Is that so,” nibbled Smithers. + </p> + <p> + “Why, when Sharpe makes up his mind to put up a stock, as he intends to do + with Pa. Cent., nothing on earth can stop him. He told me he would make it + cross par within sixty days. This is no hearsay, no tip. It’s cold facts, + I don’t <i>hear</i> it’s going up; I don’t <i>think</i> it’s going up; I + <i>know</i> it’s going up. Understand?” And he shook his right forefinger + with a hammering motion. + </p> + <p> + In less than five minutes Smithers was so wrought up that he bought 500 + shares and promised solemnly not to “take his profits,” s. o. sell out, + until Gilmartin said the word. Then they had another drink and another + look at the ticker. + </p> + <p> + “You want to keep in touch with me,” was Gilmartin’s parting shot. “I’ll + tell you what Sharpe tells me. But you must keep it quiet,” with a + sidewise nod that pledged Smithers to honorable secrecy. + </p> + <p> + Had Gilmartin met Sharpe face to face, he would not have known who was + before him. + </p> + <p> + Shortly after he left Smithers he buttonholed another acquaintance, a + young man who thought he knew Wall Street, and therefore had a hobby—manipulation. + No one could induce him to buy stocks by telling him how well the + companies were doing, how bright the prospects, etc. That was bait for + “suckers,” not for clever young stock operators. But any one, even a + stranger, who said that “they”—the perennially mysterious “they,” + the “big men,” the mighty “manipulators” whose life was one prolonged + conspiracy to pull the wool over the public’s eyes—“they” were going + to “jack up” these or the other shares, was welcomed and his advice acted + upon. Young Freeman believed in nothing but “their” wickedness and “their” + power to advance or depress stock values at will. Thinking of his wisdom + had given him a chronic sneer. + </p> + <p> + “You’re just the man I was looking for,” said Gilmartin, who hadn’t + thought of the young man at all. + </p> + <p> + “Are you a deputy sheriff?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” A slight pause for oratorical effect. “I had a long talk with Sam + to-day.” + </p> + <p> + “What Sam?” + </p> + <p> + “Sharpe. The old boy sent for me. He was in mighty good humor too. Tickled + to death. He might well be—he’s got 60,000 shares of Pennsylvania + Central. And there’s going to be from 50 to 60 points profit in it.” + </p> + <p> + “H’m!” sniffed Freeman, sceptically, yet impressed by the change In + Gilmartin’s attitude from the money-borrowing humility of the previous + week to the confident tone of a man with a straight tip. Sharpe was + notoriously kind to his old friends—rich or poor. + </p> + <p> + “I was there when the papers were signed,” Gilmartin said, hotly. “I was + going to leave the room, but Sam told me I needn’t. I can’t tell you what + it is about; really I can’t. But he’s simply going to put the stock above + par. It’s 64 1/2 now, and you know and I know that by the time it is 75 + the newspapers will all be talking about inside buying; and at 85 + everybody will want to buy it on account of important developments; and at + 95 there will be millions of bull tips on it and rumors of increased + dividends, and people who would not look at it thirty points lower will + rush in and buy it by the bushel. Let me know who is manipulating a stock, + and to h—l with dividends and earnings. Them’s <i>my</i> + sentiments,” with a final hammering nod, as if driving in a profound + truth. + </p> + <p> + “Same here,” assented Freeman, cordially. He was attacked on his + vulnerable side. + </p> + <p> + Strange things happen in Wall Street. Sometimes tips come true. It so + proved in this case. Sharpe started the stock upward brilliantly—the + movement became historic in the Street—and Pa. Cent, soared dizzily + and all the newspapers talked of it and the public went mad over it and it + touched 80 and 85 and 88 and higher, and then Gilmartin made his + brother-in-law sell out and Smithers and Freeman. Their profits were: + Griggs, $8,000; Smithers, $15,100; Freeman, $2,750. Gilmartin made them + give him a good percentage. He had no trouble with his brother-in-law. + Gilmartin told him it was an inviolable Wall Street custom and so Griggs + paid, with an air of much experience in such matters. Freeman was more or + less grateful. But Smithers met Gilmartin, and full of his good luck + repeated what he had told a dozen men within the hour: “I did a dandy + stroke the other day. Pa. Cent. looked to me like higher prices and I + bought a wad of it. I’ve cleaned up a tidy sum,” and he looked proud of + his own penetration. He really had forgotten that it was Gilmartin who had + given him the tip. But not so Gilmartin, who retorted, witheringly: + </p> + <p> + “Well, I’ve often heard of folks that you put into good things and they + make money and afterward they come to you and tell how damned smart they + were to hit it right. But you can’t work that on me. I’ve got witnesses.” + </p> + <p> + “Witnesses?” echoed Smithers, looking cheap. He remembered. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, wit-ness-es,” mimicked Gilmartin, scornfully, “I all but had to get + on my knees to make you buy it. And I told you when to sell it, too. The + information came to me straight from headquarters and you got the use of + it, and now the least you can do is to give me twenty-five hundred + dollars.” + </p> + <p> + In the end he accepted eight hundred dollars. He told mutual friends that + Smithers had cheated him. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0006" id="link2H_4_0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VI + </h2> + <p> + It seemed as though the regeneration of Gilmartin had been achieved when + he changed his shabby raiment for expensive clothes. He paid his + tradesmen’s bills and moved into better quarters. He spent his money as + though he had made millions. One week after he had closed out the deal his + friends would have sworn Gilmartin had always been prosperous. That was + his exterior. His inner self remained the same—a gambler. He began + to speculate again, in the office of Freeman’s brokers. + </p> + <p> + At the end of the second month he had lost not only the $1,200 he had + deposited with the firm, but an additional $250 he had given his wife and + had been obliged to “borrow” back from her, despite her assurances that he + would lose it. This time the slump was really unexpected by all, even by + the magnates—the mysterious and all-powerful “they” of Freeman’s—so + that the loss of the second fortune did not reflect on Gilmartin’s ability + as a speculator, but on his luck. As a matter of fact, he had been too + careful and had sinned from over-timidity at first, only to plunge later + and lose all. + </p> + <p> + As the result of much thought about his losses Gilmartin became a + professional tipster. To let others speculate for him seemed the only sure + way of winning. He began by advising ten victims—he learned in time + to call them clients—to sell Steel Rod preferred, each man 100 + shares; and to a second ten he urged the purchase of the same quantity of + the same stock. To all he advised taking four points’ profit. Not all + followed his advice, but the seven clients who sold it made between them + nearly $3,000 overnight. His percentage amounted to $287.50. Six bought, + and when they lost he told them confidentially how the treachery of a + leading member of the pool had obliged the pool managers to withdraw their + support from the stock temporarily, whence the decline. They grumbled; but + he assured them that he himself had lost nearly $1,600 of his own on + account of the traitor. + </p> + <p> + For some months Gilmartin made a fair living, but business became very + dull. People learned to fight shy of his tips. The persuasiveness was gone + from his inside news and from his confidential advice from Sharpe and from + his beholding with his own eyes the signing of epoch-making documents. Had + he been able to make his customers alternate their winnings and losses he + might have kept his trade. But, for example, “Dave” Rossiter, in Stuart + & Stern’s office, stupidly received the wrong tip six times in + succession. It wasn’t Gilmartin’s fault, but Rossiter’s bad luck. + </p> + <p> + At length, failing to get enough clients in the ticker district itself, + Gilmartin was forced to advertise in an afternoon paper, six times a week, + and in the Sunday edition of one of the leading morning dailies. They ran + like this: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + WE MAKE MONEY + + for our Investors by the best system ever devised. Deal with + genuine experts. Two methods of operating; one speculative, + the other ensures absolute safety. +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + NOW + + is the time to invest in a certain stock for ten points sure + profit Three points margin will carry it. Remember how + correct we have been on other stocks. Take advantage of + this move. +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + IOWA MIDLAND. + + Big movement coming in this stock. If s very near at hand. + Am waiting daily for word. Will get it in time. Splendid + opportunity to make big money. It costs only a 2-cent stamp + to write to me. +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + CONFIDENTIAL INFORMATION. + + Private secretary of banker and stock operator of world-wide + reputation has valuable information. I don’t wish your + money. Use your own broker. All I want is a share of what + you will surely make if you follow my advice. +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + WILL ADVANCE $40 PER SHARE. + + A fortune to be made in a railroad stock. Deal pending which + will advance same $40 per share within three months. Am in + position to keep informed as to developments and the + operations of a pool. Parties who will carry for me 100 + shares with a New York Stock Exchange house will receive the + full benefit of information. Investment safe and sure. + Highest references given. +</pre> + <p> + He prospered amazingly. Answers came to him from furniture dealers on + Fourth Avenue and dairymen up the State and fruit growers in Delaware and + factory workers in Massachusetts and electricians in New Jersey and coal + miners in Pennsylvania and shopkeepers and physicians and plumbers and + undertakers in towns and cities near and far. Every morning Gilmartin + telegraphed to scores of people—at their expense—to sell, and + to scores of others to buy the same stocks. And he claimed his commissions + from the winners. + </p> + <p> + Little by little his savings grew; and with them grew his desire to + speculate on his own account. It made him irritable not to gamble. + </p> + <p> + He met Freeman one day in one of his dissatisfied moods. Out of politeness + he asked the young cynic the universal query of the Street: + </p> + <p> + “What do you think of ‘em?” He meant stocks. + </p> + <p> + “What difference does it make what I think?” sneered Freeman, with proud + humility. “I’m nobody.” But he looked as if he did not agree with himself. + </p> + <p> + “What do you <i>know?</i>” pursued Gilmartin mollifyingly. + </p> + <p> + “I know enough to be long of Gotham Gas. I just bought a thousand shares + at 180.” He really had bought a hundred only. + </p> + <p> + “What on?” + </p> + <p> + “On information. I got it straight from a director of the company. Look + here, Gilmartin, I’m pledged to secrecy. But, for your own benefit, I’ll + just tell you to buy all the Gas you possibly can carry. The deal is on. I + know that certain papers were signed last night, and they are almost ready + to spring it on the public. They haven’t got all the stock they want. When + they get it, look out for fireworks.” + </p> + <p> + Gilmartin did not perceive any resemblance between Freeman’s tips and his + own. + </p> + <p> + He said, hesitatingly, as though ashamed of his timidity: + </p> + <p> + “The stock seems pretty high at 180.” + </p> + <p> + “You won’t think so when it sells at 250. Gilmartin, I don’t <i>hear</i> + this; I don’t <i>think</i> it; I <i>know</i> it!” + </p> + <p> + “All right; I’m in,” quoth Gilmartin, jovially. He felt a sense of + emancipation now that he had made up his mind to resume his speculating. + He took every cent of the nine hundred dollars he had made from telling + people the same things that Freeman told him now, and bought a hundred + Gotham Gas at $185 a share. Also he telegraphed to all his clients to + plunge in the stock. + </p> + <p> + It fluctuated between 184 and 186 for a fortnight. Freeman daily + asseverated that “they” were accumulating the stock. But, one fine day, + the directors met, agreed that business was bad, and having sold out most + of their own holdings, decided to reduce the dividend rate from 8 to 6 per + cent. Gotham Gas broke seventeen points in ten short minutes. Gilmartin + lost all he had. He found it impossible to pay for his advertisements. The + telegraph companies refused to accept any more “collect” messages. This + deprived Gilmartin of his income as a tipster. Griggs had kept on + speculating and had lost all his money and his wife’s in a little deal in + Iowa Midland. All that Gilmartin could hope to get from him was an + occasional invitation to dinner. Mrs. Gilmartin, after they were + dispossessed for non-payment of rent, left her husband, and went to live + with a sister in Newark who did not like Gilmartin. + </p> + <p> + His clothes became shabby and his meals irregular. But always in his + heart, as abiding as an inventor’s faith in himself, there dwelt the hope + that some day, somehow, he would “strike it rich” in the stock market. + </p> + <p> + One day he borrowed five dollars from a man who had made five thousand in + Cosmopolitan Traction. The stock, the man said, had only begun to go up, + and Gilmartin believed it and bought five shares in “Percy’s,” his + favorite bucket shop. The stock began to rise slowly but steadily. The + next afternoon “Percy’s” was raided, the proprietor having disagreed with + the police as to price. + </p> + <p> + Gilmartin lingered about New Street, talking with other customers of the + raided bucket shop, discussing whether or not it was a “put up job” of old + Percy himself, who, it was known, had been losing money to the crowd for + weeks past. One by one the victims went away and at length Gilmartin left + the ticker district. He walked slowly down Wall Street, then turned up + William Street, thinking of his luck. Cosmopolitan Traction had certainly + looked like higher prices. Indeed, it seemed to him that he could almost + hear the stock shouting, articulately: “<i>I’m going up, right away, right + away!</i>” If somebody would buy a thousand shares and agree to give him + the profits on a hundred, on ten, on one! + </p> + <p> + But he had not even his carfare. Then he remembered that he had not eaten + since breakfast. It did him no good to remember it now. He would have to + get his dinner from Griggs in Brooklyn. + </p> + <p> + “Why,” Gilmartin told himself with a burst of curious self-contempt, “I + can’t even buy a cup of coffee!” + </p> + <p> + He raised his head and looked about him to find how insignificant a + restaurant it was in which he could not buy even a cup of coffee. He had + reached Maiden Lane. As his glance ran up and down the north side of that + street, it was arrested by the sign: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + MAXWELL & KIP +</pre> + <p> + At first he felt but vaguely what it meant. It had grown unfamiliar with + absence. The clerks were coming out. Jameson, looking crustier than ever, + as though he were forever thinking how much better than Jenkins he could + run the business; Danny, some inches taller, no longer an office boy, but + spick and span in a blue serge suit and a necktie of the latest style, + exhaling health and correctness; Williamson, grown very gray and showing + on his face thirty years of routine; Baldwin, happy as of yore at the + ending of the day’s work, and smiling at the words of Jenkins—Gilmartin’s + successor, who wore an air of authority, of the habit of command which he + had not known in the old days. + </p> + <p> + Of a sudden Gilmartin was in the midst of his old life. He saw all that he + had been, all that he might still be. And he was overwhelmed. He longed to + rush to his old associates, to speak to them, to shake hands with them, to + be the old Gilmartin. He was about to step toward Jenkins, but stopped + abruptly. His clothes were shabby, and he felt ashamed. But, he apologized + to himself, he could tell them how he had made a hundred thousand and had + lost it. And he even might borrow a few dollars from Jenkins. + </p> + <p> + Gilmartin turned on his heel with a sudden impulse and walked away from + Maiden Lane quickly. All that he thought now was that he would not have + them see him in his plight. He felt the shabbiness of his clothes without + looking at them. As he walked, a great sense of loneliness came over him. + </p> + <p> + He was back in Wall Street. At the head of the Street was old Trinity; to + the right the Sub-Treasury; to the left the Stock Exchange. + </p> + <p> + From Maiden Lane to the Lane of the Ticker—such had been his life. + </p> + <p> + “If I could only buy some Cosmopolitan Traction!” he said. Then he walked + forlornly northward, to the great bridge, on his way to Brooklyn, to eat + with Griggs, the ruined grocery man. + </p> + <div style="height: 6em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Tipster, by Edwin Lefevre + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TIPSTER *** + +***** This file should be named 23171-h.htm or 23171-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/3/1/7/23171/ + +Produced by David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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