When Great Lakes had mounted in a dozen bounds from one hundred and seven to one hundred and thirty-nine, he for the first time realized that he was facing not an unorganized speculating public but a compact army, directed by a single mind to a single purpose."A lunatic--a lot of lunatics," he said, having not the faintest suspicion of the reason for the creation of these conditions of frenzy.Still, if this rise continued or was not reversed the Fanning-Smiths would be ruined--by whom? "Some of those Chicago bluffers," he finally decided."I must throw a scare into I them."He could have withdrawn from the battle then with a pitiful remnant of the Fanning-Smiths and their associates--that is, he thought he could, for he did not dream of the existence of the "corner." But he chose the opposite course.He flung off his disguise and boldly attacked the stock with selling orders openly in the name of the Fanning-Smiths.
"When they see us apparently unloading our own ancestral property I think they'll take to their heels," he said.But his face was pale as he awaited the effect of his assault.
The price staggered, trembled.The clamor of the battle alarmed those in the galleries of the Stock Exchange--Zabriskie's brokers selling, the brokers of the mysterious speculator buying, the speculating public through its brokers joining in on either side;men shrieking into each other's faces as they danced round and round the Great Lakes pillar.The price went down, went up, went down, down, down--Zabriskie had hurled selling orders for nearly fifty thousand shares at it and Dumont had commanded his guns to cease firing.He did not dare take any more offerings; he had reached the end of the ammunition he had planned to expend at that particular stage of the battle.
The alarm spread and, although Zabriskie ceased selling, the price continued to fall under the assaults of the speculating public, mad to get rid of that which its own best friends were so eagerly and so frankly throwing over.Down, down, down to one hundred and twenty, to one hundred and ten, to one hundred and five----Zabriskie telephoned victory to his nominal commander, lifting him, weak and trembling, from the depths into which he had fallen, to an at least upright position upon his embossed leather throne.Then Zabriskie began stealthily to cover his appallingly long line of "shorts" by making purchases at the lowest obtainable prices--one hundred and four--one hundred and three--one hundred and one--ninety-nine--one hundred and six!
The price rebounded so rapidly and so high that Zabriskie was forced to stop his retreat.Dumont, noting the celerity with which the enemy were escaping under cover of the demoralization, had decided no longer to delay the move for which he had saved himself.He had suddenly exploded under the falling price mine after mine of buying orders that blew it skyward.Zabriskie's retreat was cut off.
But before he had time to reason out this savage renewal of the assault by that mysterious foe whom he thought he had routed, he saw a new and more dreadful peril.Brackett, his firm's secret broker, rushed to him and, to make himself heard through the hurly-burly, shouted into his ear:
"Look what's doing in Woolens!"
Dumont had ordered a general assault upon his enemies, front, rear and both flanks.His forces were now attacking not only through Great Lakes but also through Woolens.Two apparently opposing sets of his brokers were trading in Woolens, were hammering the price down, down, a point, an eighth, a half, a quarter, at a time.The sweat burst out all over Zabriskie's body and his eyes rolled wildly.He was caught among four fires:
To continue to sell Great Lakes in face of its rising price--that was ruin.To cease to sell it and so let its price go up to where he could not buy when settlement time came--that was ruin.
To sell Woolens, to help batter down its price, to shrink the value of his enormous investment in it--ruin again.To buy Woolens in order to hold up its price, to do it when he would need all obtainable cash to extricate him from the Great Lakes entanglement--ruin, certain ruin.
His judgment was gone; his brute instinct of fighting was dominant; he began to strike out wildly, his blows falling either nowhere or upon himself.
At the Woolens post he was buying in the effort to sustain its price, buying stock that might be worthless when he got it--and that he might not be able to pay for.At the Great Lakes post he was selling in the effort to force the price down, selling more and more of a stock he did not have and---- At last the thought flashed into his befuddled brain: "There may be a corner in Great Lakes.What if there were no stock to be had?"He struck his hands against the sides of his head."Trapped!"he groaned, then bellowed in Brackett's ear."Sell Woolens--do the best you can to keep the price up, but sell at any price! We must have money--all we can get! And tell Farley"--Farley was Brackett's partner--"to buy Great Lakes--buy all he can get--at any price.Somebody's trying to corner us!"He felt--with an instinct he could not question--that there was indeed a corner in Great Lakes, that he and his house and their associates were caught.Caught with promises to deliver thousands upon thousands of shares of Great Lakes, when Great Lakes could be had only of the mysterious cornerer, and at whatever price he might choose to ask!
