“Dont you think I’m right?” I says.
“Yes,” he says, “I guess you’re right. The farmer catches it coming and going.”
“I know I’m right,” I says. “It’s a sucker game, unless a man gets inside information from somebody that knows what’s going on. I happen to be associated with some people who’re right there on the ground. They have one of the biggest manipulators in New York for an adviser. Way I do it,” I says, “I never risk much at a time. It’s the fellow that thinks he knows it all and is trying to make a killing with three dollars that they’re laying for. That’s why they are in the business.”
Then it struck ten. I went up to the telegraph office. It opened up a little, just like they said. I went into the corner and took out the telegram again, just to be sure. While I was looking at it a report came in. It was up two points. They were all buying. I could tell that from what they were saying. Getting aboard. Like they didn’t know it could go but one way. Like there was a law or something against doing anything but buying. Well, I reckon those eastern jews have got to live too. But I’ll be damned if it hasn’t come to a pretty pass when any damn foreigner that cant make a living in the country where God put him, can come to this one and take money right out of an American’s pockets. It was up two points more. Four points. But hell, they were right there and knew what was going on. And if I wasn’t going to take the advice, what was I paying them ten dollars a month for. I went out, then I remembered and came back and sent the wire. “All well. Q writing today.”
“Q?” the operator says.
“Yes,” I says, “Q. Cant you spell Q?”
“I just asked to be sure,” he says.
“You send it like I wrote it and I’ll guarantee you to be sure,” I says. “Send it collect.”
“What you sending, Jason?” Doc Wright says, looking over my shoulder. “Is that a code message to buy?”
“That’s all right about that,” I says. “You boys use your own judgment. You know more about it than those New York folks do.”