“Everybody is going to unload that stuff; the market is to be crammed down to two cents or under—probably under. At two cents, the man who’s behind the move figures on jumping in and getting control of the mine. Savvy? All right.
“Now, we want you to step in ahead of him. When that stock touches three cents, step softly and begin to buy. At two cents grab it with both hands. Keep on grabbing until the price goes up again to ten—”
“Just one minute, please!” broke in Miss Ferguson excitedly. “If this activity does not begin until to-morrow, why can’t we begin to-day? Every share we get is going to count for control of the mine, Mr. Bowen. If we can get some to-day, each of our friends will think the other man is buying it.”
“Good,” assented Bowen crisply. “Now, Gus, will you handle it for us? You have plenty of agents, and can pull the strings at the right moment without trouble.”
The broker chuckled. “This is the first time I ever manipulated curb stocks, Bob! But we’ll tackle it. You don’t want to buy two-cent stocks on a margin, I suppose?”
Bowen emitted a sarcastic grunt, and drew forth his cash and checks.
“Here are two checks Dickover handed me this morning,” and he was not above feeling an inner satisfaction at the broker’s quickly concealed surprise, “and some cash. An even thirty-four thousand, five hundred in all. Will that turn the deal?”
“What do you folks think you’re buying—Amalgamated Motors? This ought to buy the Apex Crown outright—half of it ought to buy all the shares on the market!”
“Half of it won’t,” said Bowen grimly. “And you take out your commission before the money evaporates, because we haven’t any more! But you get us control of that mine, and as much more as the cash will let you buy.”
“All right. Let’s sign up the orders. Do you want to stick around here and get my reports as they come in?”