Audubon County journal. (Exira, Iowa) 1884-1993, 1904-07-21
CHAPTER xxx.

1alr In busy Boston. Sum-
|S.SSTNl mer sojourners were return
49, ing. John Nason's store
was filed with new fall styles, the
shoppers were crowding the streets,
and the hustling, bustling life of a
great city was at flood tide. Albert
Page. full of business, was in his Of
fee, and Frank Mason was studying
hard again. Small fortunes were be-
ing won and lost on State street, and
in one smoke polluted brokers' Office
Nicholas Frye sat watching the price
of wheat. The September option
opened that day at 1874, rose to 70.
fell to 767s, rose to 70 and then
dropped back to Is. He had margined
his holdings to II, and if it fell to that
price his 100000 would be gone and he
ruined. For many nights he had had
but little sleep, and that made hfdeous
by dreams filled with the unceasing
whir and click, click, click of the
ticker. He was worn and weary with
the long nervous strain and misery of
seeing his fortune slowly clipped away
by the clickers tick that had come to
sound like the teeth Of so many little
devils swapping at him. To let his
holdings go, he could not, and, lured
on and on by the brokers' daily uttered,
assertion that wheat could not go
much lower, but must have a rally
soon," he had kept putting up margins.
Now oil he could possibly raise was in
the brokers' hands, and when that was
gone all was lost
Frye sat and watched the blackboard
where the uneven columns Of quota
lions looked like so many little legs
ever growing longer. Around him
were a score of other men watching
the figures. No one cared whether an
other won or lost in the great gam
bling game that ruins thousands.
1t was the caldron filed with lies,
false reports, fictitious sales and the
hope and lust of gain that boiled and
dubbed, heated by the fires Of hell.
And ever around that caldron the souls
Of men We're circling, cursing their
losses and gloating over their gains.
And Frye was muttering curses.
So fast came the quotations that the
boy could no longer record them. In
stead he called them out in a drawing
singsong:
September wheat now seventy
three-the ha!f-fve-eighths-a half
hve-eighths split-now half-three-
eighths "a quarter = seventy three!"
Frye set his feet hard together and
clinched his hands. Only cents in
price stood between him and the loss
Of all his twenty years saving. All
the lies he had told for miserable gain,
all the miserly self denial he had prac-
uced, all the clients he had cheated
and robbed, all the hatred he had won
from others, availed him not. His con-
temptible soul and his life almost now
hung by a misery 2 cents.
seventy three-a quarter-an eighth
seventy -three-now seventy-two sew
n-eighths-three-qu -five-eighths
-three-quarters splir-now tive-eighths
"a half-a half.'
Pandemonium was raging in the Chi
cago wheat pit, and the ticker's teeth
clicked like mad
"Seventy-two-a half-a half-three-
eighths-a alf-three-eighths-a quar-
er-seventy-two!'
Cold beads Of sweat gathered on
F'rye's forehead. One cent more and
he was ruined.
September wheat now seventy one
seven-eighths = seven eighths = three
quarters-seven-eighths split-now the
Observation-Disclosures half = a
half-fve-eighths-a half-a half again
-three-eighths-a quarter-an eighth
quarter-an eighth-a quarter-an
eighth-an eighth-a quarter split-an
eighth
Seventy -one!'
FRYE was ruined
fro He coNrrurD.I