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Reminiscences of a Stock Operator<br />
must have been a hundred brokers around the Money Post, each hoping to borrow the<br />
money that his firm urgently needed. Without money they must sell what stocks they<br />
were carrying on margin sell at any price they could get in a market where buyers were<br />
as scarce as money and just then there was not a dollar in sight.<br />
My friend's partner was as bearish as I was. The firm therefore did not have to borrow,<br />
but my friend, the broker I told you about, fresh from seeing the haggard faces around<br />
the Money Post, came to me. He knew I was heavily short of the entire market.<br />
He said, "My God, Larry! I don't know what's going to happen. I never saw anything<br />
like it. It can't go on. Something has got to give. It looks to me as if everybody is busted<br />
right now. You can't sell stocks, and there is absolutely no money in there."<br />
"How do you mean?" I asked.<br />
But what he answered was, "Did you ever hear of the classroom experiment of the<br />
mouse in a glass-bell when they begin to pump the air out of the bell? You can see the<br />
poor mouse breathe faster and faster, its sides heaving like overworked bellows, trying<br />
to get enough oxygen out of the decreasing supply in the bell. You watch it suffocate till<br />
its eyes almost pop out of their sockets, gasping, dying. Well, that is what I think of<br />
when I see the crowd at the Money Post! No money anywhere, and you can't liquidate<br />
stocks because there is nobody to buy them. The whole Street is broke at this very<br />
moment, if you ask me!"<br />
It made me think. I had seen a smash coming, but not, I admit, the worst panic in our<br />
history. It might not be profitable to anybody if it went much further.<br />
Finally it became plain that there was no use in waiting at the Post for money. There<br />
wasn't going to be any. Then hell broke loose.<br />
The president of the Stock Exchange, Mr. R. H. Thomas, so I heard later in the day,<br />
knowing that every house in the Street was headed for disaster, went out in search of<br />
succour. He called on James Stillman, president of the National City Bank, the richest<br />
bank in the United States. Its boast was that it never loaned money at a higher rate than 6<br />
per cent.<br />
Stillman heard what the president of the New York Stock Exchange had to say. Then he<br />
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