However, this man of iron nerve, this erstwhile dominant figure in the leather trade who had ridden for a quarter of a century with his feet firmly in the stirrups, was not to be easily unhorsed. At the close of a turbulent day he took account of stock and decided to “cover” (buy in) all the dividend paying stocks he was short of, and to sell an equal number of additional shares in the non-dividend paying issues, such as Bethlehem Steel, General Motors and Studebaker. The reckoning showed a paper loss of a quarter of his million dollar capital, but he bore it courageously, determined to recover it by adopting the safer course of “shorting” only such stocks as had never paid dividends, and perhaps never would. Therefore he sold more Bethlehem Steel, at $80, $90, $100, $150 and $200 a share. He sold Studebaker again at $75, $100 and $150, and more General Motors at $100, $150, $200; and a hundred shares at every fifty points advance until it reached $500. Those who knew him in the board room said that throughout this ordeal he maintained the most inflexible nerve they had ever known; but at the close of the market on that memorable day in 1915 when Bethlehem Steel touched $600 a share he collapsed in a state of nervous prostration and was taken home in an ambulance. He did not live to see General Motors sell at $850 a share (on October 25, 1916) and Bethlehem Steel at $700 a share (on November 18, 1916). Long before these figures were reached his million dollar capital had vanished and he had crossed the bar into the Great Beyond. His widow was left almost penniless and he was buried at the expense of his Lodge. Shortly before passing away he remarked sorrowfully to a friend at the bedside,--“In the past year I’ve suffered every torment known to the demons of hell. My only grain of comfort is that it’s all over now and I have nothing more to lose.”