As for Redell, he would not intrust his fortune to a telephonic order, but sprang into 'his runabout, parked at the curb outside the Exchange, and scorched uptown to Gregg & Co.'s offices, where he learned that he had sold four hundred and ten thousand bushels of December wheat. One hundred thousand had been sold at $1.90, two hundred and eighty thousand at prices varying from $1.89 to $1.88 1/8, and the remainder at 1.88.
“Buy me four hundred and ten thousand bushels at the market,” he ordered.
Before he left the office the sale had been confirmed and Mr. Redell's shorts had been covered at a price ranging from $1.83 to $1.83 5/8, whereupon he closed out his trade and received a check for his margin and his profits. An hour later he met Cappy Ricks again on 'Change.
“Well, Cappy?” he queried.
“I cleaned up, thank you,” the old gentleman informed him. “Sold, bought, and got the money. This is one time it rained duck soup and I was there with a bucket.”
He prodded Mr. Redell playfully in the short ribs and the incident was closed. They had made a profit of more than twenty thousand dollars each; and when each returned to his office he forgot all about December wheat until half past five that evening, when both met on the deserted floor of the exchange to scan the blackboard. December wheat had closed that day at $1.83! Two days later J. Augustus Redell called Cappy Ricks on the telephone.
“That you, Cappy?”
“Yep!”
“Redell speaking. Read the story on the front page of the Chronicle this morning?”
“No; what was it?”