“You did a good job with Crown Diamond,” he grunted approvingly.
“Thanks,” I returned. “I thought it wasn't bad for a stock that was not worth mentioning.”
“Um, yes. Decker can light his cigars with it next month.”
“A million dollars' worth of cigar-lighters might be called a piece of extravagance,” I murmured.
“You'll think so if you ever buy 'em, Wilton,” growled the King of the Street feelingly. “And here is seven thousand six hundred shares of Omega bought and five thousand sold. That scheme worked pretty well. We made twenty-six hundred by it. Um—the price went up pretty fast.”
The King of the Street looked sourly at the figures before him. “You ought to have got more stock,” he growled.
This was a shock to my self-congratulation over my success, and I gave an inquiring “Yes?”
“As I figure it out,” he said, “somebody else got seven thousand shares and odd. There were over fifteen thousand shares sold in your Board.”
I murmured that I had done my best.
“Yes, yes; I suppose so,” said my employer. “But we need more.”