“Very well. Sell 50,000 shares of Federal Telegraph Company for me.”
“What price?” jotting down the figures, from force of habit, his mind being paralyzed.
“The best you can get. The stock,” glancing at the tape, “is 91.”
“Very well.”
The two men looked at one another—Dutch Dan half menacingly, Greener, calmly, steadily, his furtive eyes almost truthful.
“Good-morning,” said Dittenhoeffer at length and the little man’s high-browed head nodded dismissingly.
Dittenhoeffer hastened back to the Exchange. At the entrance he met his partner, Smith—the “Co.” of D. Dittenhoeffer & Co.
“Bill, I’ve just got an order from Greener to sell 50,000 shares of Federal Telegraph.”
“Wh-what?” gasped Smith.
“Greener sent for me, asked me whether I’d accept an order from him, I said yes, and he told me to sell 50,000 shares of Telegraph, and I’m——”