Edwin Lefevre

“ And he was afraid to look at the ticker, afraid to hear the prices shouted, yet hoping—for a miracle! Gilmartin 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. ”

“ 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 ”

“ 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 one per cent.; that is, where a man could bet as little as two dollars. ”

“ But anyone, 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. ”

“ 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! ”

“ 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 ”

“ 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 brokers. ”

“ 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. ”

“ 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, $3,000; Smithers, $15,100; Freeman, $2,750. Gilmartin made them give him a good percentage. ”

“ 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. ”

“ 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. ”

“ 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 ”

“ Not all followed his advice, but the seven clients who sold it made between them nearly $3,000 over night. 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. ”

“ 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. ”