And there was no reply.
“Two hundred Atchison, Brown to Morning, at $15; five hundred Atchison, Brown to Morning, at $15½; one thousand Atchison, Brown to Morning, at $16. Are there further bids for Atchison?” said the caller.
Wolf arose and cried, “Fifteen dollars is offered for one thousand Atchison.”
There was no higher offer, but the caller did not proceed to cry the next stock on the list. Somehow everybody seemed to feel that a crisis had been reached; it was in the air, and, amidst a hushed and expectant silence unprecedented in the history of the New York Stock and Exchange Board, the voice of David Morning rang out like a trumpet.
“I will give,” said he, “$30 per share for the whole or any portion of the capital stock of the Atchison, Topeka, and Santa Fe Railroad Company.”
Then pandemonium reigned. The quick wit of the stockbrokers comprehended the situation in an instant. It was all as clear to them as if it had been written and printed. They knew that Claybank, Wolf, and Gray had joined forces, locked up the currency, brought about a panic, broken down the market, and ruined half the street. They knew that the country was prosperous, the mines prolific, and the crops good. They knew that the depression in prices was wholly artificial, and that it must, sooner or later, be followed by a reaction and restoration of values, and they had so advised their customers, but they supposed that the period of such reaction was wholly within the control of Gray, Claybank, and Wolf.
They had no reason to expect that relief would come from any other source, and the appearance and action of Morning burst upon them like a revelation. Here was a man who was a new-comer to fortune and to finance, a man who had devoted the immense revenues of his mine to beneficent rather than business purposes, and who was above the necessity or the temptation of increasing his wealth by speculation. His presence in the Board, and his bid of $30 a share for Atchison, demonstrated that he knew of the Claybank-Gray-Wolf conspiracy, and that he proposed to baffle it. He must have measured the forces of the members of the syndicate and be advised as to the amount of money necessary to meet them. Possibly he had found a way to unlock the federal treasury, or had from some source obtained the necessary millions. Certainly he had obtained them or he would never have thus challenged the magnates of Wall Street to combat. Clearly, the panic was at an end, the man from Arizona was about to lead them out of the wilderness.
And they shouted, and roared, and cried, and hugged each other, and mashed each others’ hats, and marched up and down and around the floor, and joined hands and danced around Morning, and disregarded all calls to order, and were finally quieted only when Morning, escorted by the President of the Stock Exchange, ascended the stand.
The President, as soon as silence was secured, said:—
“Gentlemen, it seems to be the general wish that the regular call shall be temporarily suspended, and that we shall hear from Mr. David Morning.”