“Now you’re treading on delicate ground, young man. But I think I can answer your question this way: I dare say he had as much show to win out at Hartz’s as at any other broker’s. No speculator who monkeys with the stock market has an even show for his money. It isn’t the broker’s fault; it’s the game he’s up against. The outside public make no money out of the brokers; the brokers live on the outside public. You simply bet that a certain stock will go up or down; generally it goes the way you don’t expect, and there you are.”
“Or you hold on too long,” suggested the boy, who thought he knew why most of the uninitiated dropped their wealth.
“Of course; but who can guess the right moment to unload, eh, Jack?”
“Well, I feel sorry for the old man. It’s evident he’s seen better days. I am thinking of taking this stock on the bare chance it may turn out to be worth something one of these days.”
“Well, that’s your lookout, Jack. I don’t advise you to buy it; but if you want to take a flyer of that kind, the experience will probably be worth the price to you. Good-bye. Come up and see us soon.”
“Thank you, I will. Good afternoon, Mr. Bird.”
Then Jack rejoined Tuggs, who during the interval waited for him like a submissive animal at the command of his master.
“Come with me; I’m going back to our office. I’ll put your stock in the safe and give you a receipt for it. Come down about noon to-morrow, and I’ll give you fifty dollars for it.”
Tuggs was satisfied, got his receipt, and left the neighborhood.
Next day Jack bought the stock in regular form.