Brown said to his partner one day, a little uneasily: “Supposing we can’t get any more stock, what are we going to do with what we have?” To try to sell it, however carefully, would be sure to break the market.
“Brown,” squeaked the little man, plaintively, “I have concluded that in case I can’t get enough stock to bring Willetts and his crowd”—the president of the Iowa Midland and his fellow-directors—“to my way of thinking, we had better sell the block we now hold to the Keokuk & Northern Railway Company at the market price of $68 a share. Perhaps we could even run it up a little higher. Our stock cost us on an average $51 a share. We could take our payment one half in cash and half in first mortgage bonds at a fair discount. The deal would be highly beneficial to the Keokuk & Northern Company, since, having such a large block of her rival’s stock, there would be no more fighting and rate-cutting. Our company would be a powerful factor in the Iowa Midland’s affairs, for we ought to have two or possibly three directors in their board.”
“Greener,” said Brown, “shake!”
“Oh, no; not yet,” squeaked the little man, deprecatingly.
Shortly afterward began a campaign of hostility against the management of the Iowa Midland Railway Company and President Willetts in particular. It was a bitter campaign of defamation, of ingenious accusations, and of alarming prognostications. All the newspapers, important or obscure, subsidized or honest, began to print articles of the kind technically known as “roasts.” The road, it was declared, had escaped a receivership by a sheer miracle. President Willetts’s incompetence was stupendous and incurable. There was, in sooth, some basis for the complaints, and many stockholders were undoubtedly dissatisfied with the Willetts “dynasty.” But not even the newspapers themselves knew that they were merely moving in response to wires artistically pulled by a financial genius of the first water. The stock once more declined. Not knowing who was fighting him, President Willetts was unable to defend himself effectively. Many timid or disgusted holders sold out. Mr. Greener gave no sign of life; but his brokers bought the stock offered for sale.
At length a well-known and talkative broker confided to an intimate friend, who told his intimate friend in confidence, who whispered to his chum, who told, etc., etc., that Mr. John F. Greener had been responsible for the fall and rise of Iowa Midland stock; that for months he had been buying it on the Stock Exchange; that he had quietly picked up some large blocks in Iowa. All of which was very sad, and, worse still, true. Also, that Mr. Greener now held 182,300 shares of the stock, which was even sadder, but untrue.
It really was very well done. The annual meeting of the company was only six weeks away.
The reporters rushed to Mr. Greener’s office. The little financier would not be seen. At length he reluctantly consented to be interviewed. He admitted, after a skilful display of unwillingness, that he had bought Iowa Midland stock. As to the amount, he said that was not of interest to the general public. The reporters finally cornered him and succeeded in making the little financier say, with a fleeting and very peculiar smile: “Yes; it is over 100,000 shares.” And not another word could the newspaper men get out of him.
Being an intelligent man, he never lied for publication. Each reporter who saw that smile and the furtive look that accompanied it went away convinced to the life-wagering point that Mr. John F. Greener was in control of the Iowa Midland. And they wrote accordingly.
President Willetts all but had an apoplectic stroke. The Street disgustedly said: “Another successful, villainous plot of Greener’s!” And such was his reputation as an “absorber” of roads and roads’ profits that the stock declined ten points in two days. Investors and speculators alike displayed a frantic desire not to be identified in any way or manner with one of Mr. Greener’s properties.