“No,” answered Haley, “I didn’t.” They have to be diplomatic in brokers’ offices.
“What’s gone wrong with it, Mr. Haley?”
Haley knew, but he could not tell her without giving me away, and a customer’s business is sacred. So he said, “I don’t hear anything special about it, one way or the other. There she goes! That’s low for the move!” and he pointed to the quotation board.
Mrs. Livingston gazed at the sinking stock and cried: “Oh, Mr. Haley! I don’t want to lose my five hundred dollars! What shall I do?”
“I don’t know, Mrs. Livingston, but if I were you I’d ask Mr. Livingston.”
“Oh, no! He doesn’t want me to speculate on my own hook. He told me so. He’ll buy or sell stock for me, if I ask him, but I’ve never before done trading that he did not know all about. I wouldn’t dare tell him.”
“That’s all right,” said Haley soothingly. “He is a wonderful trader and he’ll know just what to do.” Seeing her shake her head violently he added devilishly: “Or else you put up a thousand or two to take care of your Borneo.”
The alternative decided her then and there. She hung about the office, but as the market got weaker and weaker she came over to where I sat watching the board and told me she wanted to speak to me. We went into the private office and she told me the whole story. So I just said to her: “You foolish little girl, you keep your hands off this deal.”
She promised that she would, and so I gave her back her five hundred dollars and she went away happy. The stock was par by that time.
I saw what had happened. Wisenstein was an astute person. He figured that Mrs. Livingston would tell me what he had told her and I’d study the stock. He knew that activity always attracted me and I was known to swing a pretty fair line. I suppose he thought I’d buy ten or twenty thousand shares.