Morning was also a member of the Stock Exchange, having purchased a seat a year previously, but he did not often appear there, and had never bought or sold a share of stock himself in open board. Even amid the excitement of the panic, his presence gave interest to the occasion, for his sobriquet of the “Gold King” attached legitimately to his ownership of a mine that was yielding $4,000,000 per month, with the probability of making its owner in a few years the greatest billionaire in the world. There were probably few among the active members of the Stock Exchange who did not, at this time, know nearly as much about the causes of the panic as even the three men who produced it, and among all the brokers, except those in the employment of the syndicate, only indignation was expressed at the operations of Wolf, Claybank, and Gray. The New York stockbroker is neither a Shylock nor a miser. He is usually a genial, generous sort of fellow, who prefers a bull market to a bear raid. He likes to make money himself and have everybody else make it. A boom is his delight, and a panic his abhorrence. If a majority of the board of brokers could have had their way, they would have hung the members of the syndicate to the gallery railings, and the question of reaching them in some lawful way, and relieving the board from the effects of their conspiracy, had been informally discussed. But nothing was attempted, because nothing seemed really practicable. It was well known that the existing condition of things had been produced by locking up the currency. So long as it remained locked up, prices must remain at whatever figures the conspirators might choose to place them. Only the power that withdrew the money from circulation, could restore it to the channels of commerce. There was absolutely nothing for those not already ruined to do except to hide in the jungle until the three tigers should have fully gorged themselves. When Claybank, Gray, and Wolf should graciously permit the money to be unlocked, then stocks would advance to their real value, business would resume its proper channels, and the panic would be over—and not until then. In the Exchange, stocks were called alphabetically, and the first upon the list of railroad securities was the Atchison, Topeka, and Santa Fe. This was not a dividend-paying or favorite investment stock, and, probably, three-fourths of it had been held in the street for years, in speculative and marginal holdings. Morning had special reasons for securing control of this road in addition to his general purpose of thwarting the conspirators. Prior to the panic, Atchison, Topeka, and Santa Fe had vibrated for months between $27 and $33, and on the Saturday previous to the Monday which saw the beginning of the bear raid, it had closed at $30. Under the operations of the conspirators, it had been hammered down to $15, at which figure it closed on the previous Saturday.