Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1904-05-27

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 7S14, rose to 70,
fell to 7GZs, rose to 7S and then
dropped back to 76: He had margined
his holdings to II, and If 1t fell to that
price his 100000 would be gone and he
ruined. For many nights he had had
but little sleep, and that made hideous
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 60 he could not, and, lured
on and on by the brokers' daily uttered
assertion that wheat could not go
much lower. but must have rally
soon." he had kept putting up margins,
Now all he could possibly raise was In
the brokers' hands. and when that war
gone all WAS lost.
Frye sat and watched the blackboard
where the uneven columns OF quota
tions 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.
It was the caldron filled with lies.
false reports, fictitious sales and the
hope and lust of gain that boiled and
bubbled, heated by the fires Of hell.
And ever around that caldron the souls
of men were 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 drawling
singsong:
September wheat now seventy
three-the half-five-eighths-a half
fiye-eighths split-now half-three-
eighths "a quarter - seventy y-three!
Frye set his feet hard together and
clinched his hands. Only 2 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.
| &ha hn
and robbed, all the hatred he had won
from others, availed him not. His con-
temptible soul and his life almost now
hung by mlserly 2 cents.
"Seventy-three-a quarter-an eighth
seventy -three-now seventy-two sew
en-eighths-three-quarters-fve-eighths
-three-quarters split-now 6ve-eighths
"a half-a halfT
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 half-three-eighths-a quar-
ter-seventy-two"
Cold beads of sweat gathered on
Frye'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
three-quarter- er-flve-eighths-a half a
half-fve-eighths-a half-a half again
-three-eighths- quarter-an eighth
quarter-an eighth-a quarter-an
eighth-an eighth-a quarter spit-an
eighth
"Seventy-one"
Frye was ruined.
He gave one low moan, the first and
only one during those three long weeks
Of agony.
The devils teeth kept swapping; the
endless coils of tape kept unwinding.
The boy continued his drawl, but Frye
paid no heed. Only those spider legs
on the wall seemed kicking at him, and
that fatal seventy-one-one- -one-kept
ringing in his ears. He arose and
staggered out and with bowed head
made his way to the Office.
Whir-r-r-r-r!
Click, click, click!
Seventy-one- 1t was the
last he heard, and then he sank for
ward on his desk in a stupor.
At this moment Uncle Terry, with
Frye's letter in his pocket and right
eous wrath in his heart, was speeding
toward Boston as fast as steam could
carry him.
The clear, incisive strokes Of an ad-
jacent clock proclaiming midnight
awoke Frye. He raised his head, arose,
Lit the two gas jets and sat down.
| Seventy-one-one-on
They brought it all back to him, and
now, alone in his misery, he groaned
aloud, and with his despair came the
dread Of the morrow, when he must go
forth crushed, broken, despairing, pen
.iilesS.
All would know 1t, and all would re-
joice. Out Of the many that hated or
feared him not one would feel grain
of pity, and he knew 1t.
Then his past life came back to him.
He had never married, and since be
had looked down upon his dead moth
er's face no woman's hand had sought
his with tenderness. All his long life Of
grasping greed had been spent in money
getting and money saving. No sense
of right or justice had ever restrained
him. Year after year he had added to
bis hoard, carefully invested 1t, and
now it had all been swept away!
He took a pen and wrote a brief let.