THE BEGINNING OF THE END.
The flurry in the money-market gradually increased to a storm.
Confidence was destroyed, and business at a stand. The daily bulletins
of failures formed the chief topic of conversation. The merchants and
bankers, especially those who held Western lands, Western securities, or
Western credits, went down one after another. Houses tumbled like a row
of bricks. No class was safe at a time when the relations of debtor and
creditor were so complicated and so universal. Stocks went down with a
run. Bullion was not disappointed in his calculations, and Fletcher, in
spite of his insane whims upon the subject of chances, proved himself
shrewd, vigilant, and energetic. Flushed with success, he made bolder
ventures, and the daily balances grew to be enormous. Within the first
fortnight, Bullion had given Fletcher notes for over five thousand
dollars as his share of the profits. The brokers, even, were astonished
at the silent but all-powerful influence that pressed upon the market,
bringing the best stocks down till they sold like damaged goods at a
sheriff's auction. But Tonsor, the lucky agent, kept his counsel.
Daily he attended the sales at the Board, with apparently exhaustless
resources, _bear_ing pitilessly, triumphantly, until the unlucky bulls
came to think the sight of his face was an ill omen.
Of all men, Sandford felt this steady, determined pressure most keenly.
To sustain the credit of those in whose affairs he was concerned, he was
obliged from time to time to put under the hammer stocks which had been
placed in his hands. Every sale showed the value of these securities
to be sinking, until it really seemed that they would come to be as
worthless as the old Continental currency. But neither he nor other
sufferers had any remedy;--stocks were worth only what they would bring;
prices must take care of themselves; and the calm, determined bids of
Tonsor were like the voice of Fate.
In his extremity, Sandford thought of Monroe, and remembering his own
personal responsibility for the sum he had received, he determined to
"hedge." So he sent for Monroe; he showed him the notes, all amply
secured, if any man's name could be said to give security.
"You see," said Sandford, "how careful I have been. Two good names on
every note. They may fail, it is true. So stocks may go for a song,
and universal bankruptcy follow. See, there is a note signed by Flint,
Steel, & Co., and indorsed by Lameduck, another by Kiteflyer and Co.,
indorsed by Burntwick, and this by Stearine & Star, indorsed by Bullion.
Every dollar will yield at least the eight per cent. I promised."
"The names are good, I should think.--as long as anybody is good," said
Monroe. "Still I should feel safer with a mortgage, or even with stocks;
for if these do go down, they will come up again."
"Stocks!" said Sandford, with an air of contempt. "There isn't a bank
that is worth _that_"--snapping his fingers. "They keep on their legs
only by sufferance; if put to the test, they could not redeem their
notes a day. The factories are worse yet,--rotten, hollow. Railroads,
--eaten up with bonds and mortgages."
"Well, perhaps you have done wisely. Time will show."
"I sent for you," said Sandford, "because I knew you must be anxious. I
gave you a part of the interest, you know. You'll take these notes? You
approve of my judgment?"
"I must, I suppose. Yes,--you can make the transfers to me, if you like.
They may as well remain with you, however."
Sandford drew a long breath with a sense of relief. If he were to be
hard pushed, these notes would serve for collateral securities.
Monroe left the office, not quite so cheerful as when he came. He
remembered his mother's regrets at the disposition of the money,--their
all. His own health had been failing. His relative, whom he went to see,
was dead; and now that his cousin had accepted his invitation to come
and live with him, he felt an increased solicitude about the future.
Sandford's main anxiety now was to provide for Stearine's note, which he
felt assured the promisor could not meet. He dared not let the loss fall
upon the Vortex until every expedient had been tried; for such an affair
would lead at once to an unwelcome investigation of the Company's
accounts. He determined first to see Bullion, to whom the note was due.
He found that gentleman cool, tranquil, and not at all frightened, as
he supposed he would be, at the idea of a protest. The truth was, that
Bullion had already made so much in his operations, that he could easily
"lift" the note; but as long as his capital was yielding such golden
returns, he was not disposed to use it in that way until obliged to do
so. Besides, he believed, from Sandford's anxiety, that he would
himself make an effort to raise the money elsewhere. He was quite easy,
therefore.
"Stearine must look out for his own paper; if he don't, he must go down.
If I have to pay it, I shall any way get a dividend out of him, and,
what is better, get a few days' time. Time _is_ money, these days."
There was no course for Sandford, then, but to sell or hypothecate the
shares of stock he held. Then the thought of the still falling prices
frightened him. The stocks he had to sell were already quoted far below
their usual price, and he, in common with all the street, had heard of
the secret irresistible influence that was bearing down upon the daily
sales. If Tonsor should come into market against him, the consequences
might be ruinous. It was out of the question for him to stand up against
any further serious depreciation.
To Tonsor he went, in the hope of persuading or buying him off from his
destructive course. As he entered the broker's door he saw Fletcher
hand over a package of bills, and just caught the words, "Forty-five
thousand." What was Fletcher doing? He remembered that he had not met
his old agent for some days, and he knew well that such a scheming brain
would not be idle in a time like this. A light flashed upon him. Was
Fletcher in the conspiracy? If _he_ knew and shared in the scheme, the
secret should be wrenched from him.
Mr. Sandford affected, therefore, to have come to see Fletcher only, and
drew him into a corner.
"Fletcher, what's in the wind? Don't Danforth & Co. do their own buying
and selling? They don't employ Tonsor, do they?"
"You don't expect me to tell their business, do you?"
"Well, no,--not exactly. I thought you might have dipped in on your own
account."
"That's a good joke. How should _I_ have the funds?"
"Any chances to invest, Fletcher? I'll give liberal commissions."
"Chances are plenty for those that have money."
Fletcher started as though he would return to his place of business. But
Sandford dropped his smooth and honeyed tone and spoke more decidedly.
"You can't blind me, Fletcher. You know what the bears are doing. They
are ruining everything, knocking down prices, destroying credit, using
what little money there is for speculation, thriving on the distress of
the public. It's no better than highway-robbery; and it's my belief you
are concerned in the plot."
"You had better go to the nobs, and not talk to me. You might as well
pitch into the tellers or messengers when the banks suspend payment."
"No,--I shan't let you off. The 'nobs,' as you call them, dare not be
seen in this matter; they will pocket the chestnuts, but they will get
some cat's-paw to rake them out of the ashes."
"Well, what are you going to do about it?"
Fletcher was astonished at his own temerity as soon as he had uttered
the words; but his prosperity and the support of Bullion had given him
some courage.
"Do? you scoundrel!" said Sandford, in a rage that rarely overtook him.
"What am I going to do? I'll break every bone in your skin, if you don't
give up this plot you are in. Do you _dare_ to set yourself to put _me_
down? Don't let any of your tools _dare_ to run my stocks! If you do,
I'll go to a magistrate and have you arrested."
"When I am arrested, my good Sir," said Fletcher, with a face pale as
death, but with lips firmly set, "I advise you to have your accounts
ready. For I shan't be in the jug a minute before you'll have to show
your papers and your cash-book to the Company."
Sandford staggered as though he had received a blow from a bruiser. He
gasped for breath,--turned pale, then red,--at length with difficulty
said, "You defy me, then? We shall see!"
"You have it;--I defy you, hate you, despise you! I have been your slave
long enough. Do your worst. But the instant you move, I promise you that
a man will look after you, d--d quick."
Sandford looked around. Tonsor was calmly counting the pile of
bank-notes before him. It was near eleven. This Board would soon
commence its session. He stepped into the street, slamming the door
after him.
"Pretty well, for a beginning!" said Fletcher, meditating, "a shot
betwixt wind and water. So much for Bullion's advice. Bullion is a
trump, and Sandford be hanged!"