The Republican journal. [volume] (Belfast, Me.) 1829-current, 1914-02-26
A Game of Chance.
BY w. H. wINSLoW, PHI. D.
CHAPTER III.

PANIC
A fine-looking gentleman of regular
features, snowy hair, mustache and side
whiskers, pushed his way among the
throng OF Spectators in the Mems Board
room and awed the noisy crowd into mo-
mentary silence. He was suave, grace
full and dignifed, and was known by the
regular customers as Mr.. Paul Bemis,
President of the Fenwick National Bank,
across the street. He nodded to several
persons and elbowed his way to ticker,
where he had noticed Hambright watch
ing the Curb quotations. The latter was
Vice President of his bank, and he evil
IDENTITY had something of Importance to
communicate.
The Vice was about twenty years
younger than Bemis and did more work
in the bank than was required of him or
agreeable to his subordinates. He as
sumed control when the President was
absent, and the staff believed he aspired
to go higher. He examined drawers and
books and the vaults very officiously, and
made unpleasant criticisms at times. He
controlled considerable patronage and
had forced through several loans. when
Bemls was absent, that the latter did not
approve when he learned of them. These
were made to his personal business asso-
ciates in several mining companies OF
undeveloped conditions.
Bemis often laid awake at night, or
aWoke with shock from troubled
sleep and thought about them. There
wasn't anything especially wrong, orly
doubts and fears that there might be;
and the President was nervous and a
little suspicious of his colleagues lnteg-
rity. He had recently prevented the ac-
ceptance of bunch of bonds, when
loan had been voted, and they were about
to be deposited in the vault. After this,
he began to think that some of the ac-
copied securities might be defective, and
he commenced quiet investigation OF
all of the transactions in which Ham
bright had been the moving spirit.
Good morning, Hambright; want to
see you a moment" said Bemis.
Good morning, Mr.. Bemis; l hope
you feel we'll in this turmoil
Pretty we'll, thanks. | never specu-
late, you know. About that last check
for five thousand you gave to Bloomberg
& Co.; The cashier refused acceptance
because your bank account is shy over
two thousand now
1.-The devil left some Orc Sulphide
bonds for loan this morning. Aren't
ten of them good for five thousand?"
mot in this market; besides, we have
all of that stuff we wish to carry"
''The bank loaned on the hundred
thousand"
eyes, when | was absent from illness.
and am sorry. have not extreme con-
tidence in those bonds"
Nonsense they are as good as Gov
ernments.'
"Well, we don't think so. Come over
to the bank and let US straighten this
matter some other way
Hambrlght scowled, but left the
Board-room with Mr.. Bemis.
The tickers clattered quick and sharp.
The buzz of conversation was full of eX-
CARNATIONS. The reader shouted the quo
tations above the din. The markers
Tipped the cards out and into the inches
with great rapidity. The traders lit Gig
arettes and fresh cigars and pulled furi-
ously. The throng surged around the
chairs and besieged the tickers and the
telegraphers. The electric fans and open
vered brows and perspiring bodies.
and the way the market thwarted their
point or two between quotations. Men
with wild eyes and pale faces mingled
with others with purple lips and turgld,
apoplectic countenances.
John, who carried messages and ar
ranged the slips and bulletins, put roll
OF paper or a ticker and wound tangle
of tape from a basket about Lanes
neck, shouting, Hes he goat. Notice
mis- red eyes and rumpled hair! Lost his
little pile on ten shares of Cornucopia -
''Oh. Ratsi' said Lane, disentangling
himself.
Feel my pulse, Doctor" said a short,
dark man, named Lambert, to DR.. Chap
man.
Ninety and intermittent. Some val
vular difficulty Of the heart, | think,
said the Doctor.
Yes; it came from rheumatism and
is of several years duration.
my dear sir; go home at once and
quit This game. You cannot stand it. 1t
is too strenuous for crippled anatomy
like yours. -
1.-The sooner life is ended, the better.
! am on the wrong side of the market
and have lost heavily. My wife left me
in bed; said she'd look after affairs, but
| couldn't rest | had to sneak away to
see the trend of the market.
TOO bad! but 60 home for rest,
anyway.
A tall youth tainted in one corner and
was restored to consciousness by Chap
man. Mr.. Low complained of queer
pain across his stomach. Wendell had
headache. The Smelter men had lost
thousands and gone away half crazy.
Cutnet covered his short sales and
booked thousands of dollars profit.
The tickers slowed down, the quota
tons became less frequent, and the
marker left the board. Some traders
sighed and growled and figured up their
losses, for many of them, as usual, were
bulls.
Prices recovered little from the low
est before the close; the traders depart
ed feeling new hope for the morrow, and
the markers gathered the cards and put
the closing price of each stock above its
name. The office force lighted cigars
and worked upon their accounts until
desks were cleared and they were ready
for another days financial gamble.
The movement had been raid against
weakly margined customers and too op
timistic bulls. When the poor had been
robbed, the over-confident punished, and
a panic threatened, the big Moguls of
Wall Street, the systematic robbers, stop
ped the decline OF prices, gathered in their
profits, supported the market by buying
a few leading stocks, and cheered the
lambs bv hiding the shears