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Updated: May 24, 2025
On a certain day toward the middle of the month, at a time when the mysterious Bear had unloaded some eighty thousand bushels upon Hornung, a conference was held in the library of Hornung's home. His broker attended it, and also a clean-faced, bright-eyed individual whose name of Cyrus Ryder might have been found upon the pay-roll of a rather well-known detective agency.
"Great snakes!" ejaculated Hornung's broker. "Truslow never took it abroad at all." "Took it abroad! Say, he's just been running it around Chicago, like the supers in 'Shenandoah, round an' round, so you'd think it was a new lot, an' selling it back to you again." "No wonder we couldn't account for so much wheat."
Hornung's position was as stable as a rock, and the price closed even with the opening figure one dollar and a half. But the morning's work was the talk of all La Salle Street. Who was back of the raid? What was the meaning of this unexpected selling? For weeks the pit trading had been merely nominal.
The beautiful, crazy Gerty Neville is another instance of perversion. Her silliness is exaggerated in order that she shall weary and disgust the blasé aristocrat who has married her. Some of her chatter is more inconceivable than the 'coo-ee-ing' which Mr. Hornung's 'Bride from the Bush' employed to attract the attention of a colonial acquaintance of hers in Rotten Row.
It was so the veteran operators were persuaded Truslow himself who had made Hornung's corner possible. The Great Bear had for once over-reached himself, and, believing himself all-powerful, had hammered the price just the fatal fraction too far down. Wheat had gone to sixty-two for the time, and under the circumstances, an abnormal price. When the reaction came it was tremendous.
That gentleman's first act on regaining his equilibrium had been to send O'Hara out of the room, and O'Hara, who had foreseen this emergency, had spent a very pleasant half-hour in the passage with some mixed chocolates and a copy of Mr Hornung's Amateur Cracksman. It was his notion of a cheerful and instructive French lesson. "What were you talking about when you came in?" asked Clowes.
"Now, Mr. Gates, if you will sign for Mr. Truslow I guess that'll be all," remarked Hornung when he had finished reading. Hornung affixed his signature to the two documents and passed them over to Gates, who signed for his principal and client, Truslow or, as he had been called ever since he had gone into the fight against Hornung's corner the Great Bear.
Hornung's secretary was called in and witnessed the signatures, and Gates thrust the contract into his Gladstone bag and stood up, smoothing his hat. "You will deliver the warehouse receipts for the grain," began Gates. "I'll send a messenger to Truslow's office before noon," interrupted Hornung. "You can pay by certified check through the Illinois Trust people."
Since the sale of the hundred thousand bushels of wheat to Truslow the "Hornung crowd" had steadily shouldered the price higher until on this particular morning it stood at one dollar and a half. That was Hornung's price. No one else had any grain to sell.
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