“But, geewhillikins, fellows,” remembered Hank, suddenly, “I mustn’t get my mind so much on my good luck that I forget there’s a dinner to serve.”
On this first trip with her new owners the “Soudan” behaved splendidly. In fact, she afterwards proved to be an exceptionally good, strong and sea-worthy craft.
When the Wall Street party returned to town the following morning, the battle on ’Change was carried on to a finish. Before the day was over P. & Y. stock was up where it belonged. Steel and the allied securities also behaved in a way that netted large profits for the Delavan-Moddridge combine. Francis Delavan came out of the affair with more than fifteen million dollars of profits, and Eben Moddridge with ten million dollars—this in addition to the fortune with which they had started.
The experience has cured Mr. Delavan of any further desire to plunge into Wall Street. He feels that he has more money than he can use, and is now devoting himself solely to advancing the interests of the railway of which he is president.
Eben Moddridge has invested largely in Government bonds, as a rest for his nerves. The balance of his great fortune is invested in securities that do not go up and down on the Wall Street barometer. Mr. Moddridge spends much of his time in the Western States, notably hunting in the Rocky Mountains, and his nerves are coming gradually, surely under control.
Justin Bolton’s end, financially, came with deserved suddenness and completeness. Unable, with all his millions, to buy in enough P. & Y. stock to cover his immense range of “short” sales, the worthless fellow found himself with every dollar gone when that last stern day of fighting on ’Change ended. Bolton is now clerking—drudging and scheming, though all in vain.
Ellis and Rexford did not, of course, earn the great sums of money they had expected. Fearing prosecution for their part in the affair, they fled to Europe. Lately the news came that they had been arrested in Paris for swindling American travelers. The pair are now confined in a French prison.
Francis Delavan, generous and forgiving, refused to try to find the crews of the racing launch or of the schooner, or to consider prosecution of these underlings, and they have never been heard of since.
“Bolton was the arch-scoundrel, and he’s had punishment enough meted out to him,” declared the good-humored president of the P. & Y. “I never did feel much like going after small fry, anyway. Besides, having to go into court as a witness might upset all the good that has been done to good old Eb’s nerves.”
Jed Prentiss was soon able to report that his mother had recovered. Jed thereupon took command of Horace Dunstan’s “Meteor” for the balance of the season.