CHAPTER XXII
A FOOL
The big day came for which Rimrock had waited, the day when he could strike his first blow. In his room at the Waldorf he had installed special telephone connections, with a clerk to answer his calls; and close by the table, where he could follow his campaign, a stock ticker stamped away at its tape. It was the morning of the twenty-third of December, and he had wired L. W. for his money. All was ready now for the first raid on Navajoa and he went down to see Buckbee, the broker.
"Mr. Buckbee," he said when he had him by himself, "I just want to find where you're at. You introduced me to Stoddard and, as it turned out, we all of us made on the deal. But here's the question—if it came to a show-down, would you be for Stoddard, or me?"
"Why, my dear friend Rimrock," answered Buckbee jovially, "I'm afraid you don't get me right. That little deal with Stoddard was strictly on the side—my business is to buy and sell stock. An order from you will look just as good to me as one from Whitney H. Stoddard, and it will be executed just as carefully. But if it's Navajoa you have on your mind my advice is positively to lay off. I'll buy or sell as much Navajoa as you want for the regular brokerage fee, but get this straight—when you go up against Stoddard you stand to lose your whole roll. Now shoot, and I give you my word of honor to execute your orders to the letter."
"All right," said Rimrock, "sell ten thousand shares short. Dump 'em over—I want Navajoa to go down."
"It'll go down," answered Buckbee as he scribbled out the order. "At what point do you want me to buy?"
"Don't want to buy," replied Rimrock grimly and Buckbee shook his head.
"All right, my boy," he said debonairly, "there'll be wild doings this day in Navajoa. But it's people like you that makes the likes of me rich, so divvel another word will I say."