So Mr. Streeter made out the papers, and Montague, looking them over, discovered that they called for one hundred thousand dollars.
“That is a mistake,” he said. “I have only sixty thousand.”
“Oh,” said the other, “we shall certainly have to charge you a ten per cent, margin.”
Montague was not prepared for this contingency; but he did some mental arithmetic. “What is the present price of the stock?” he asked.
“Fifty-nine and five-eighths,” was the reply.
“Then sixty thousand dollars is more than ten per cent, of the market price,” said Montague.
“Yes,” said Mr. Streeter. “But in dealing with a stranger we shall certainly have to put a ‘stop loss’ order at four points above, and that would leave you only two points of safety—surely not enough.”
“I see,” said Montague—and he had a sudden appalling realization of the wild game which his brother had planned for him.
“Whereas,” Mr. Streeter continued, persuasively, “if you put up ten per cent., you will have six points.”
“Very well,” said the other promptly. “Then please buy me six thousand shares.”