“And that is the reason, Mr. Livingston,” he concluded pleasantly, “why we wish to do business with you.”
“Do business how?” I asked him.
“Be your brokers,” he said. “My firm would like to do your stock business.”
“I’d like to give it to you,” I said, “but I can’t.”
“Why not?” he asked.
“I haven’t any money,” I answered.
“That part is all right,” he said with a friendly smile. “I’ll furnish it.” He took out a pocket checkbook, wrote out a check for twenty-five thousand dollars to my order, and gave it to me.
“What’s this for?” I asked.
“For you to deposit in your own bank. You will draw your own checks. I want you to do your trading in our office. I don’t care whether you win or lose. If that money goes I will give you another personal check. So you don’t have to be so very careful with this one. See?”
I knew that the firm was too rich and prosperous to need anybody’s business, much less to give a fellow the money to put up as margin. And then he was so nice about it! Instead of giving me a credit with the house he gave me the actual cash, so that he alone knew where it came from, the only string being that if I traded I should do so through his firm. And then the promise that there would be more if that went! Still, there must be a reason.