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In less than a minute, Abe was conversing with Fiedler. "Mr. Fiedler!" he said. "Hello, Mr. Fiedler! Is this you? Yes. Well, me and Mawruss is about decided to buy a thousand of them stocks what you showed me down at your store at your office yesterday, only, Mawruss says, why should we buy them goods them stocks if you ain't sold that other stocks already.
He led Abe into an adjoining room where a tall youth was taking green cardboard numbers from a girdle which he wore, and sticking them on the quotation board. "Hello!" Fiedler exclaimed as the youth affixed a new number. "Interstate Copper has advanced a whole point since two days ago. It's now two and an eighth."
Fiedler, and just as soon as I can get there I'll bring you the check." Twenty minutes after Abe had rung off a messenger arrived with a check for two hundred and seventy-five dollars, and Morris included it in the morning deposits which he was about to send over to the Kosciusko Bank.
Of course, I can't tell you offhand what the value of the stock is, but I'll make inquiries at once. The inside market at present is very strong, as you know." Abe nodded, as he thought was expected of him, although "inside" and "outside" markets were all one to him. "And curb securities naturally feel the influence of the bullish sentiment," Fiedler continued.
First, he says, you should sell them stocks from gold and silver, Mr. Fiedler, and then we buy them copper ones." Mr. Fiedler, at the other end of the 'phone, hesitated before replying. The Texas-Nevada Gold and Silver Mining Corporation was a paper mine that had long since faded from the memory of every bucketshop manager he knew, and its stock was worth absolutely nothing.
Buy me a thousand Interstate at the market." Sol nudged Abe, and after the young man and Fiedler had disappeared into the latter's private office Sol imparted in hoarse whispers to Abe that the young man was reported to have information from the ground-floor crowd about Interstate Copper. "Well, if that's so," Abe replied, "why does he lose money on it?"
Simultaneously, a young man in the back of the room exclaimed aloud in woeful profanity. "What's the matter with him?" Abe asked. "They play 'em both ways a-hem!" Fiedler corrected himself in time. "Occasionally we have a customer who sells short of the market, and then, of course, if the market goes up he gets stung er he sustains a loss." Here the door opened and Sol Klinger entered.
Yet Gunst & Baumer, as the promoters of Interstate Copper, would clear at least two thousand dollars by the sale of the stock to Abe and Morris; hence, Fiedler took a gambler's chance. "Why, Mr. Potash," he said, "a boy is already on the way to your store with a check for that very stock. I sold it for three hundred dollars and I sent you a check for two hundred and seventy-five dollars.
"I understand this much, Mawruss," Abe cried "I understand, Mawruss, that if Sol Klinger tells me he guarantees it I make twenty-five hundred dollars, and this here Milton Fiedler, too, he also says it, and a young feller actually with my own eyes I see it buys this stock because he's got information from inside people, why shouldn't we buy it and make money on it? Ain't it?"
He says a young feller by the name Milton Fiedler is manager, and if he can't sell that stock, Mawruss, Sol says nobody can. So I guess I'll go right over and see him while I got it in my mind." Milton Fiedler had served an arduous apprenticeship before he attained the position of branch manager for Gunst & Baumer in the dry-goods district.
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