One of the first acquaintances Mr. Keene made on his arrival was this great society man, the celebrated Sam Ward, who at once recognized his social worth, not only in dollars and cents, but in considerable liabilities, genuine representatives of dollars and cents. The more tangibly he realized this fact the more tenacious was his attachment, until Mr. Keene found Mr. Ward the very beau ideal of Scriptural fraternity, namely, “a friend that sticketh closer than a brother.”
Wherever Keene appeared, though apparently alone, it was safe to bet that Ward’s shadow could soon be seen.
It is said of Seneca, when he observed a house falling, and nobody near it, that he asked: “Where is the woman?” So Keene’s presence naturally suggested Ward to the mental vision of every Wall Street man and every sporting man.
Whether it was up-town or down-town, at Newport, or in London, at the Derby, or the Grand Prix, it was all the same, where Keene was, there Ward soon appeared with the promptitude of the genius that stood before Aladdin when he touched his wonderful lamp or rubbed his magic ring.
This self-sacrificing friendship and ardent devotion on the part of Mr. Ward was recognized by Mr. Keene in the most tangible manner. He made an investment for his protege, of $50,000 in solid securities, placing them in the hands of trustees, so that his ward received the income therefrom of three thousand dollars, as an annuity, for life.
Mr. Keene bestowed numerous benefits on other newly made acquaintances, of which this is a fair sample.
A Pacific coast biographer draws the following graphic sketch of Keene, some time after his departure from California, which is curious reading in the light of the events which I have related:
“No series of sketches of men, prominently identified with the stock interests of the Pacific coast, would be complete without a pen portrait of James R. Keene, the free lance operator of the San Francisco stock market, who dared to beard the Bonanza Kings in their den, and came off victorious with many shekels of gold and silver. Mr. Keene is no longer with us. Some time since, after having realized largely on his stock ventures, he concluded to take a trip East, to be extended to Europe, unless on the Atlantic seashore he regained the health which too active exertions on the Pacific had impaired. And so he went with his family. Those who bade him God-speed expected to see him return within a few months, certainly within a year, with recovered health, new ambitions, new conquests to make. But he comes not. New York has presented more attractions than his old love, San Francisco. Railroad stocks, Jay Gould, Sam Ward, Rufus Hatch, Long Branch, Trenor W. Park, Newport, have been too many attractions for Jim Keene. He fell into the New York market as easily as any man generally falls among thieves—but he seems to have got the best of the thieves in every issue. When it was rumored that Keene contemplated making Wall Street his headquarters, his old San Francisco friends generally wrote out their calendars, and figured up when ‘Jim’ would be back, bursted out and out, looking for a job. A few who had abiding faith in Keene, who knew his pluck, who had gauged his capacities, who had measured his horse sense, consulted their calendars and said: ‘Jim is gone! He never will come back to couch his lance in such a narrow field as ours. New York is big, Wall Street is big—just about the size of institutions that Keene wants to tackle.’ The few were right. Keene hasn’t come back to look for a job. He has tried conclusions with the smartest of the Wall Street operators, and, novice that he was, came out triumphant. The California goose that was to be plucked wasn’t plucked. Even Jay Gould, with all his shrewdness, gave it up as a bad job; and Vanderbilt condescends to confer with Keene on momentous occasions.
“Keene started in his career as a stock operator years ago in San Francisco. He first was conspicuous as an impulsive, dare-devil sort of a street broker, acting for big firms, with an occasional dash for liberty and himself. Gradually he worked his way from steerage to cabin, from the private’s ranks to the position of the lieutenant of the watch, then to officer of the day, and finally, boss of the stock concern. No man in the stock market exercised so much influence as Mr. Keene. He had hosts of friends, friends whom he grappled with hooks of steel, ready to swear by him on any and every occasion. Generous to a fault, brusque in manner at times, but with the heart of a woman, ready to melt at a moment’s notice, open-handed and open-hearted to the appeal of even an acquaintance, no wonder that Jim Keene was the ideal of the market.”
It is not generally known that Keene was chiefly instrumental in rehabilitating the Bank of California after the death of Ralston. He raised a large subscription in the Stock Board, and got the Hon. William Sharon, D. O. Mills and “Lucky” Baldwin to subscribe a million each, and he put in a million himself. The bank was thus enabled to meet all immediate demands, and a threatened panic was averted.