Rimrock returned to his room and sat watching the tape as the ticker champed it out and soon he saw Navajoa. It had been quoted at thirty-two and a half, but this sale was made at thirty. He watched it decline to twenty-eight, and twenty-five, and soon it was down to twenty. He called up Buckbee.
"Sell ten thousand more," he ordered and Buckbee went on with the slaughter. Navajoa went down to eighteen and sixteen and then it jumped back to twenty. Big buying developed, but still Rimrock sold short and again Navajoa slumped. At the end of the day it stood at twenty and he prepared for the next step in his campaign. He had beaten Navajoa down to nearly half its former price and without parting with a single share. He had at that moment, in stock bought and paid for, enough to cover all his short selling—this raid was to call out more. When stock is going up the people cling to it, but when it drops they rush to sell. Already he could see the small sales of the pikers as they were shaken down for their shares. The next thing to do, as he had learned the game, was to buy in; and then hammer it again.
On the twenty-fourth, the day before Christmas, he bought till he could buy no more; and still the price stayed down. It was the holidays slump, so the brokers said, but it suited him to a nicety. The next day was Christmas and he wired once more for his money, for L. W. had not answered his first telegram; and then he went out with the boys. Since his break with Mrs. Hardesty he had taken to dodging into the bar, where he could be safe from her subtle advances; but on Christmas eve he went too far. They all went too far, in the matter of drinking, but Rimrock went too far with Buckbee. He told him just exactly what he intended to do to Stoddard; which was indiscreet, to say the least. But Buckbee, who was likewise in an expansive mood, told in turn everything he knew; and the following day, as Rimrock thought it over, he wondered if he had not been wrong.
Buckbee had assured him that the stock on the market represented less than half of the Navajoa capitalization; and if that was the case it was hopeless, of course, to try to break Stoddard's control. But, strictly as a friend and for old time's sake, Buckbee had offered to sell Rimrock's stock at a profit; he had even gone further and promised to pass it on to Stoddard, who was in the market to protect his holdings. At twenty-four, which was where it was selling, Rimrock would clean up a tidy sum; and every cent of that absolute velvet would come out of Stoddard's pocket. It was a great temptation, but as Rimrock sobered he remembered that it was a fight to a finish. He had set out to break Whitney Stoddard.
The next morning at ten he sat at his desk waiting expectantly for the Stock Exchange to open. It was to have been his big day when, with over a million dollars from his dividends, he had intended to buy in Navajoa. But there was one thing that left him uneasy—his money had not come. If it had been sent by registered mail the Christmas glut would easily account for the delay, but three telegrams had remained also unanswered. He pondered for a moment, whether to wire to Mary or not, and then the telephone rang.
"Hello?" said a voice, "this is Buckbee speaking. What do you think about the proposition I made?"
"What proposition?" demanded Rimrock and then he grunted intolerantly as Buckbee renewed his offer for the stocks. "You must be drunk!" he said at the end and a merry laugh came back over the 'phone.
"No, all joking aside—I'm sober now. What do you say to twenty-four?"
"Too little!" bluffed Rimrock. "I want at least thirty."
"Will you take that?"