A corner in corn; or, How a Chicago boy did the trick

Issued Weekly—By Subscription $2.50 per year.   Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1905, in the office of the Librarian of Congress, Washington, D. C., by Frank Tousey, Publisher, 24 Union Square, New York.
By A SELF-MADE MAN.
IN THE ROOKERY BUILDING.
“Has Vance returned yet?” asked Jared Whitemore, a stout, florid-complexioned man of sixty-five, opening the door of his private office and glancing into the outside room.
“No, sir,” replied Edgar Vyce, his bookkeeper and office manager—a tall, saturnine-looking man, who had been in his employ several years.
“Send him in as soon as he comes back.”
The bookkeeper nodded carelessly and resumed his writing.
“Miss Brown,” said Jared to his stenographer and typewriter, a very pretty brown-eyed girl of seventeen, the only other occupant of the room, whose desk stood close to one of the windows overlooking La Salle Street.
She immediately left her machine and followed her employer into the inner sanctum.
Mr. Whitemore was a well-known speculator, one of the shrewdest and most successful operators on the Chicago Board of Trade.
He owned some of the best business sites in the city, and his ground rents brought him in many thousands a year.
Accounted a millionaire many times over, no one could with any degree of certainty say exactly what he was worth.