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Fame and Fortune Weekly No. 1: A Lucky Deal; or The 'Cutest Boy in Wall Street

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<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XVII">CHAPTER XVII.</h2> THE GOPHER MINING COMPANY TURNS UP A TRUMP. “This is my lucky day,” said Jack to Millie next morning as he stood in front of her desk while she was taking the japanned case off her machine. “What—Friday?” “Yep.” “Mother calls it hangman’s day, and superstitious people won’t do lots of things on that day.” “Pooh! America was discovered on a Friday; many of our most distinguished men were born on a Friday, and many famous events occurred on a Friday. So there you are!” Jack went to his work, and Millie started to copy several letters from shorthand notes of the day before. About this time Mr. Bishop came in, and the first thing he did was to send Jack with an order to a William Street printer. When he got back, the cashier handed him a letter addressed to him, care of the firm, bearing the Denver postmark, which had been delivered by the postman while he was out. In one corner was the imprint of the “Gopher Gold Mining Company.” The boy tore it open and found a brief note and a bank draft. The latter represented the third annual dividend, this time of three cents per share, on 5,000 shares, which amounted to $150. An accompanying printed enclosure intimated that the dividends would probably hereafter be declared semi-annually, owing to increased output and superior character of the ore mined. There was also a notification that the price of shares had been advanced from 15 to 25 cents, and that only a limited number of shares would be sold at that figure, the company reserving the right to still further advance the price without notice. “Gee!” muttered the boy. “And I only gave that old fellow fifty dollars for the stock, and here I’ve got back one hundred and fifty already, while the value the company places on five thousand shares is twelve hundred and fifty. Maybe I didn’t strike it lucky when I bought those certificates.” “There must be something interesting in that letter from the way you are smiling over it,” said Millie as she passed him on her way back to her desk. “Hold on, Millie,” he said, and she stopped to listen to what he had to say. “Didn’t I tell you this was my lucky day?” “I think you did,” she answered, with a smile. “Remember that mining stock I bought some months ago from an old gentleman by the name of Tuggs?” She nodded. “I only gave him fifty dollars for the lot, and now I’ve received my first dividend of one hundred and fifty, with more to come, and the company’s estimate of the value of my shares is twelve hundred and fifty dollars. How’s that for luck?” Of course, Millie congratulated him; so also did both Mr. Atherton and Mr. Bishop when they heard about it later on. So likewise did the other employees when the intelligence reached them, though no doubt the younger clerks envied him his luck. Indeed, so elated was Jack over his mining shares that he quite forgot for a time the much more important subject of the D. & G. stock, which, however, still clung around the 90 mark as though those figures had some potent attraction. When he went to lunch he met Oliver Bird coming out of a Broad Street cafe. Of course, he had to tell him about his luck with the Gopher Gold Mining shares. “Glad to hear it, Jack,” said the big broker, patting him on the back. “Nothing succeeds like success, young man. You were successful in pulling five thousand dollars out of the fire when another and more experienced person, had he taken the risks you did with that L. S. stock, would have probably gone up Salt Creek. Had those Gopher certificates been offered to me on the same terms you gobbled them at, I shouldn’t have touched them with a ten-foot pole.” “They were not so wild-catty, after all,” grinned the lad. “It seems not. You’re a pretty ’cute boy.” “It isn’t my fault; I must have been born so,” laughed Jack as the broker gave him another slap on the shoulder and passed on. “Hello, Mr. Hartz,” to that operator, who came up at that moment. “Seen Percy Chamberlain to-day?” The broker’s eyes twinkled, and he shook his head. “He hasn’t dropped in on our Millie for three whole days,” grinned Jack. “Must have struck a new mash somewhere. She has my sympathy. How’s D. & G.?” “What about it?” asked Hartz, sharply, fixing Jack with his gimlet eyes. “You’re buying it, aren’t you?” “Who said so?” demanded the broker, more aggressively than before. “Nobody that I know of. It just struck me that you were—that’s all,” said the boy, lightly. “You must have a reason for mentioning it,” said Hartz, gripping him tightly by the arm. “You told me that if I had twenty-five or fifty dollars to spare, to buy some—on margin, of course.” “Oh,” said Hartz, letting go of his arm. “So I went the limit of my little pile,” grinned Jack. “Then you made a haul?” “I haven’t sold it yet.” “You’ve a good nerve,” said Hartz. “That’s what the dentist told me once when he yanked out a back molar.” “Better sell to-day,” chuckled Hartz. “I’ll think about it. Kinder ’fraid I might break the market if I let it all out at once.” Hartz punched him in the ribs and passed on. When Jack got back to the office after lunch he meandered over to the indicator. Before he reached it, Millie had him by the arm. Her eyes were blazing with excitement. “Sell, Jack; sell! D. & G. has just been quoted at ninety-two.” “Thanks, Millie,” he said with provoking calmness, picking his teeth with a quill and looking at her quizzically; “but I guess it’s sold by this time.” “What do you mean?” she asked, with wondering eyes. “Well, you see, when I went out to eat I stopped in at the bank and told them to close the deal the moment the stock touched my figure. That puts it up to them, in a way, and of course they notified their broker to that effect. I guess I’m safe enough now.” “Oh, Jack, I’m so happy!” was all she could say. <hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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