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Updated: June 24, 2025
Elderberry was not only the professional salaried secretary of Horse's Neck but was also treasurer of the Amphalula, and general factotum, representative and interlocking director for Scherer, Hunn, Greenbaum & Beck in their various mining enterprises, combining in his person almost as many offices as, Pooh-Bah in "The Mikado."
Elderberry swept with a bland inquiring eye the shore of the glassy sea about which his associates were gathered. "I've been over the ground," announced Greenbaum "and it's a good gamble. We want Horse's Neck for ourselves at any rate until we are confident that it's a real lemon. Half a million will do it. I'll personally put up a hundred thousand."
It's a heads-I-win-tails-you-lose proposition," commented Mr. Hunn dryly. "Who controls Amphalula?" "We do," snapped Greenbaum. "Then it's a cinch," returned Hunn mildly. "Shake out the sleepers, reorganize, and sell or hold as seems most advisable later on." Mr. Elderberry cleared his throat tentatively.
"Did your firm sell any of its holdings in Horse's Neck after the issuance of that circular?" Greenbaum hesitated. He would have liked to wring that judge's neck. "Why how do I know? We may have." "Did you?" "Say 'yes, for God's sake," hissed Chippingham "or you'll land in the pen!" "I am informed that we did," answered Greenbaum defiantly. "That is, I don't say we did. Very likely we did.
"Did we really ever get out any circular like that?" demanded Greenbaum in a protesting voice. "I don't recall any." "That was when we were making a market for the stock," Elderberry reminded him. "We couldn't say enough. Honestly, to look at the thing now is enough to make you sick!" "Well, it's just a hold-up that's what it is.
Sadie Greenbaum, as I will call her, was an exceptionally attractive young Jewish girl of fifteen when I first knew her. Although not remarkably bright in school she was industrious, and aspired to be a stenographer. She was not destined to realize her ambition. As soon as she finished grammar school she was served, so to speak, with her working papers.
Tobias Greenbaum was outside and would like an interview. "Send him in!" directed Mr. Tutt, winking at Miss Wiggin. Mr. Greenbaum entered, frowning and without salutation, while Doc partially rose, moved by the acquired instinct of disciplinary politeness, then changed his mind and sat down again. "See here," snarled Greenbaum. "You sure have made a most awful hash of this business.
In fact, distress to somebody in some form, and usually to a large number of persons, inevitably followed whatever deal they undertook, since their business was speculating in mining properties and unloading the bad ones upon an unsuspecting public which Scherer, Hunn, Greenbaum & Beck had permitted to deceive itself. Thus, when Greenbaum called upon Mr.
She, who formerly, at eleven in the morning, might have been seen bent on selling the best possible bill of spring Featherlooms to Joe Greenbaum, of Keokuk, Iowa, could now be found in a modiste's gray-and-raspberry salon, being draped and pinned and fitted.
Scherer, a dolichocephalous person with very black hair and thin bluish cheeks. "It's a pity we didn't buy it all in at ten cents a share." "We did!" retorted Greenbaum. "All that could be shaken out. We've got all the stock that hasn't gravitated to the cemeteries." "Even if the Amphalula vein doesn't run into it it will come near enough to make Horse's Neck worth dollars per share.
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