“The oil works showed the usual profit, but upon closing the accounts of the first year of the new terminal enterprise, we find that the property has failed to pay even its running expenses. In fact the company will probably default on the next coupon of the Terminal bonds.—How many of them have we left?”
Charlie was silent a moment, as if to count.
“Only a little over a hundred thousand,” said Charlie, “not counting those we are carrying for our customers.”
“You will of course have to look after their margins,” said Tamms, absent-mindedly. “Sell at once if they do not respond.”
(“The old Shylock!”) thought Charlie. “Certainly, sir,” he said. “Shall I sell the hundred thousand we have left of our own?”
Tamms looked at our young friend sternly. “And profit by our official knowledge of the coming default? Certainly not, sir. We will bear our loss with the rest.” And Tamms drew himself up and placed his right hand in the breast of his black frock-coat, much as if he were addressing posterity—or a newspaper reporter, as Charlie reflected. This sudden high moral attitude was admirable, if inexplicable.
“But,” said Charlie, “the bonds being guaranteed by the Allegheny Central Railroad——”
“Guaranteed by the Allegheny Central?” interrupted Tamms, in astonishment, his whity-blue eyes opened to their fullest extent.
“That was certainly my impression, sir,” faltered Charlie. For he remembered that he himself had composed a newspaper item to that effect.
“Here is the original circular under which the bonds were issued,” said Tamms, with dignity; and Charlie cast his eye over it timorously. There was certainly nothing in it about a guaranty, though Charlie had a distinct impression that when the bonds were “listed” on the Stock Exchange this had been the general understanding. “You must be thinking of some mere newspaper rumor,” added Tamms.