The banker and the bear : $b The story of a corner in lardWebster, Henry Kitchell
General
The banker and the bear : $b The story of a corner in lard
Webster, Henry Kitchell
Bankers -- Fiction; Didactic fiction; Political fiction; Social problems -- Fiction
John dropped the paper beside his chair, stared at his plate a moment,
and then turned to Dick.
“Did either of you say anything to me just now? I think I’ll have some
more coffee. What are you laughing about?”
“I said I thought there must be something very entertaining about the
front page of that paper,” said Dick.
“Entertaining isn’t just the word,” he answered slowly. “It’s what I
call confoundedly enterprising. They’ve told a great deal more than
they’ve any right to know, and the worst of it is they’ve told the
truth.”
“I don’t know why you should object to their telling the truth,” said
Alice.
“Is it about something you’re concerned in?” Dick asked.
John nodded. “I loaned a man a large sum of money day before yesterday,
and the fact of his wanting it and the kind of security he put up would
show to any one who knew about it that he was in a certain deal. He
didn’t want that to get out, so I was very careful to conceal the loan.
And here this paper seems to know all about it: not only about the
deal, which they might have guessed from other things, but about the
loan. It leaves me in an awkward position, you see.”
“What sort of deal is it?” Dick asked.
“Lard,” said John. “Here, you can read all about it,” and he handed her
the paper.
Dick glanced at the staring letters of the scare head. “To corner
lard,” she read. “I should think that would be pretty hard to do,” she
said reflectively.
Then as John looked at her, manifestly surprised at the sageness of the
remark and nodded assent to it, she added, “It’s so squashy, you know.”
John laughed. “You took me in that time. Pickering will have to fight
though, sure enough. They’re likely to make it warm for him to-day.”
“On the Board of Trade?” cried Dick. “Will it be like the day you took
Alice and me?”
“It was unusually quiet that day,” said John.
“Quiet!” exclaimed Alice. “It made my head ache for two days.”
“Will it really be worse than that?” Dick asked. “Oh, I wish--”
John glanced at his watch and hurriedly left the table. He appeared a
moment later at the dining-room door and said,--
“If you and Alice care to come to the bank to-day at twelve o’clock,
we can lunch together and then look in there for a few minutes.”
They exclaimed simultaneously, but with different import.
“All right,” said John, “either or both. Be there sharp at twelve if
you want to catch me.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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