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Updated: May 10, 2025
Besides, when he marked the cards or loaded the dice for a great Wall Street game of "high finance," he did it with skill and intelligence; and Fanning-Smith had neither. When the banking-house of Fanning-Smith and Company undertook to finance the raid on National Woolens it was already deep in the Great Lakes gamble.
Fanning-Smith oh Mr. Fanshaw " He listened, in his face for the first few seconds all the pitying amusement a small, vain man can put into an expression of superiority. "Thank you, Mr. Fanshaw," he said. "But really, it's impossible. WE are perfectly secure. No one would venture to disturb US." And he pursed his lips and swelled his fat cheeks in the look for which his father was noted.
He reflected on this situation and reached these conclusions: "James Fanning-Smith purposes to pass the autumn dividend, which will cause the stock to drop. Then he will take his profits from the shares he has sold short and will buy back control at the low price. He is a fool and a knave. Only an imbecile would thus trifle with an established property.
As the ticker pushed out the news of the early declines and recoveries in Great Lakes, Tavistock leading the Fanning-Smith crowd on to make heavier and heavier plunges, Dumont could see in imagination the battle-field the floor of the Stock Exchange as plainly as if he were there. The battle began with a languid cannonade between the two seemingly opposed parts of Dumont's army.
"There are disquieting rumors of a raid on us." "Who's to do the raiding?" "They say it's Patterson and Fanning-Smith and Cassell and Herron. It's a raid for control." Dumont snorted scornfully. "Don't fret. We're all right. I'll be down soon." And he hung up the receiver, muttering: "The ass! I must kick him out! He's an old woman the instant I turn my back."
I had to throw over some Woolens but I'll pick it up again maybe to-day." Fanning-Smith could hear the roar of the Exchange wilder, fiercer than three hours before, but music to him now. He looked sheepishly at the portrait of his grandfather. When its eyes met his he flushed and shifted his gaze guiltily.
At eleven o'clock on Monday morning James, head of the Fanning-Smith family, president of Fanning-Smith and Company, and chairman of the Great Lakes and Gulf railway to note his chief titles to eminence up-town and down was seated in his grandfather's office, in his grandfather's chair, at his grandfather's desk.
Fanning-Smith, irritated by the insistent jingling so close to his ear, lifted himself and answered the tears were guttering his swollen face; his lips and eyelids were twitching. "Well?" he said feebly. "We've got 'em on the run," came the reply in Zabriskie's voice, jubilant now. "Who?" "Don't know who whoever was trying to squeeze us.
I'm having a hard enough time, watching this crazy market and sending our orders by the roundabout way. Got anything to suggest?" Tick tick tick Commander-in-chief Fanning-Smith watched the crawling tape in fascinated horror Great Lakes one hundred and thirty-eight. It had spelled out for him another letter of that hideous word, Ruin.
Under cover of this he captured most of the available actual shares of Great Lakes valuable aids toward making his position, his "corner," impregnable. But before he had accomplished his full purpose Zabriskie, nominal lieutenant-commander, actual commander of the Fanning-Smith forces, advanced to give battle.
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