“Great heavens, young man!” exclaimed Mr. Jarboe in utter amazement, “where have you got the money from to do this? Has Mr. Whitemore come to his senses and signed his balances over to you?”
“I am obliged to refuse you this information, Mr. Jarboe, as you have ceased of your own accord to represent me. All I can say is this: I am at the head of the deal from this on. I control all of Mr. Whitemore’s holdings. I mean to control the price as he has done. No corn will be moved east that amounts to anything until I say the word. If you think you can beat me, Mr. Jarboe, sell a million short and see. Good-day.”
CHAPTER XIV.
THE SCHEME THAT DIDN’T WORK.
It had been a day of surprise on the Board of Trade.
Instead of the price of corn going on the toboggan it had closed a couple of points to the good when business ceased for the day.
Everybody was talking about the new factor that had entered the fight.
The newspapers were full of surmises and hints and rumors.
There was no doubt whatever that Mr. Whitemore was out of the running.
Every afternoon paper published an authentic bulletin of his condition, which was given out by reputable physicians as practically unchanged.