Not a word was said. The novelty of the turn of events seemed to leave them no objection.
In Shelby’s own voice came, clear and distinct, the order to buy ten thousand shares of Maddox Munitions. Then Kennedy stopped the machine.
“Let us see how that works before we go any further,” he said, significantly. “His buying orders seemed forestalled by selling orders when they were given over the regular telephone. Before the next is given perhaps we may find we have stopped part of the leak.”
Kennedy’s calm assurance seemed to have completely changed their attitude. They were not convinced, but at least silent.
Out on the Curb we could hear the shouting as brokers with stock to sell crowded about the man with the order to buy.
Whoever was back of it, it was a well-planned raid. The order for ten thousand scarcely stemmed the flood. Quickly Kennedy let the little cylinder revolve. Another order was placed, and another.
I could not help noticing, however, that each succeeding order was smaller than the rest and it was hard to escape the implication that Shelby was really reaching the limit of his available resources.
Anxiously I listened to the turmoil on the Curb. Now it would abate, only to start up again. I glanced at Craig. What would he do?
Just then word was passed up that another block of stock had suddenly been hurled on the market. The brokers looked skeptically at Kennedy. Would Shelby be able to meet this final assault?
Craig released the revolving cylinder again. I gasped as I listened, remembering the pause over the wire up-stairs, the apparent reluctance of Shelby over something, and Craig’s remark that followed.