Loaded Dice

by Ellery H. Clark

Gordon slowly lit a cigar. "Well," he said at length, "you know all the stuff that has to go into one of these things. There's nothing of any real importance beyond what I've just said. The other clauses take up provisions as to how the corporation's going to be formed, and all that sort of thing. They don't amount to anything except to get us all mixed up, though, if we start to go into them. Why don't we say that I'll get the whole thing in final shape by to-morrow night. Then we can sign it before a notary, and I can put for home and get things underway without any delay at all. Or do you think of anything else? You're all right as far as the board of directors goes. You'll both be on the board, and any other Michigan man you think ought to go on. The eastern men that I'm going to get are all first-class in every way, and there's no doubt we'll have a strong board. Most of the other things, as I say, are mere matters of detail, so I should think if you could get around about this same time to-morrow night we could fix things up then, and make our start."

There was a moment's silence. Then Jim Mason again removed his pipe from his mouth. "About what," he said deliberately, "were you calculatin' on for your capital stock?"

From Gordon's manner no one could have guessed that this was the one subject he had feared and dreaded, that this was the one question he had hoped and prayed no one would raise. Indeed, to all appearances, he welcomed the topic with real pleasure.

"Well, where are my wits wandering to?" he cried. "Why, that was one of the things I particularly meant to speak of, Jim, because I knew if I didn't, you might have your breath taken away. You see, times have changed in the stock market, altogether. Where once it was a rich man's game, now everybody plays it. The clerk on his twelve dollars a week reads the stock column with just as much care as the millionaire, perhaps with more. The coachman the butler and the chauffeur, even the maid and the milliner, keep their ears open, and when an employer plunges, he carries a lot of people and a lot of money, of whom and of which he is entirely unconscious, along with him. So a copper stock, to be attractive to the general public to-day, has got to be a low-priced one; and of course that means a larger capitalization. Ten years ago, if you'd asked me the same question, I'd have said, 'Capitalize at ten thousand shares, at a par of a hundred,' and I guess, for that time, that would have been about right. For that time, you understand, but—"

Mason interrupted. "For that time, or for any time," he said positively, "that would have been right then, and it's right to-day, too. I'm agin' these big capitalizations, and that's just why I asked you for the information. Ten thousand shares, and par a hundred dollars. That's my ideas. What do you say, Jack?"

Harrison nodded, with, for him, unusual decision. "I guess that's about the regular thing," he answered, "leastways, in this state. That's what the Orono's in at, and the Hawkeye, and the Iroquois's only got five thousand, but they're a smaller proposition than the others. Yes, I guess for us ten thousand, and par a hundred, just about hits things right."

Gordon shook his head vigorously. "No, no," he cried, "you're wrong, both of you. But it's only because, as Jack just said a few moments ago, you're not in touch with market conditions in just the same way that I am. A big capitalization and a low par are the two things that are going to benefit everybody. They're going to help us make money, and that's going to help develop the mine, and, better than anything else, it's going to give lots of poor devils a chance to get into a really good thing at a moderate price, instead of wasting their good money on the first wildcat scheme that comes along, some kind of a fake mine that doesn't exist at all except on paper. Really, I hope you'll be willing to take my judgment on this; I'm right; I'm sure of it, or I wouldn't say so."

Both Mason and Harrison looked puzzled. There was a moment's silence. Then Mason, asked abruptly, "Well, what do you call right, then?"

Gordon, as he answered, made an effort to speak in a perfectly casual tone. "Why," he said easily, "as I say, I'd make the par very low, say five dollars a share. Then, of course, to give everybody a show, you'd have to have plenty of stock. I don't really care about the exact amount. I haven't given that much thought; but I should say, off hand, perhaps a million shares would be about right."

Mason stared at him in blank astonishment. "A million shares!" he gasped. "You'd capitalize the Ethel at five million dollars. God, man, you're crazy!"