No one knew that van Rensselaer was the man who was causing the trouble
to T. & S., so our historian goes on to assure us. One of his qualities
was his mastership of concealment: he had brokers all over Wall Street,
and often they were bidding against each other without knowing it. Those
on the outside saw merely that T. & S. had gone up in a way that beat
all telling, and that then it had found a steady price and was
marvellously active; those on the inside knew a little more; they knew
that somebody was selling short, but who it was, there was only one man
in the world that knew.
These things are complicated, and they are tedious; but they have to be
understood, for they have to do with a crisis in the life of Robert van
Rensselaer. For our friend was not a man who played at stocks; he never
went in until he was sure he was right, and then he went in for all he
was worth. Though as yet the market had not the least idea of it, he was
stripped for a battle to the death with the supporters of Transatlantic
and Suburban. Let the reader plunge boldly in,--and take our word for it
that there is a path through the wilderness of the narrative.
It was on Tuesday that van Rensselaer had begun, taking "seller's
options" of three days, which amounted to a gigantic bet that in three
days, by more and more selling, he could lower the price of the stock.
As a matter of fact he meant to give them no three days; he meant that
T. & S. was to go down on Wednesday, the first real day of battle.
It was a situation like that in the K. A. corner, with the difference
that nobody could think of cornering T. & S. Its stock was all over the
country, it had been issued ten millions at a time, and what van
Rensselaer and his opponents could secure was comparatively little; it
was the market, the spectators of the battle, who were to award the
prize of victory at the end. And as we have said, our hero had, or
believed he had, the "eternal laws of nature" on his side. "It's coming
down!" said van Rensselaer, grimly; "down! down!"