VOObyM

Reminiscences of a Stock Operator
"So I did. A director of the company who is a member of the finance committee told
me."
"Which of them was it?" asked the broker vindictively.
"If you must know," answered the newspaper man, "it was your own father-in-law, Mr.
Westlake."
"Why in Hades didn't you tell me you meant him!" yelled the broker. "You cost me
thirty-five hundred dollars!" He didn't believe in family tips. The farther away the source
the purer the tip.
Old Westlake was a rich and successful banker and promoter. He ran across John W.
Gates one day. Gates asked him what he knew. "If you will act on it I'll give you a tip.
If you won't I'll save my breath," answered old Westlake grumpily.
"Of course I'll act on it," promised Gates cheerfully.
"Sell Reading! There is a sure twenty-five points in it, and possibly more. But twentyfive
absolutely certain," said Westlake impressively.
"I'm much obliged to you," and Bet-you-a-million Gates shook hands warmly and went
away in the direction of his broker's office.
Westlake had specialized on Reading. He knew all about the company and stood in with
the insiders so that the market for the stock was an open book to him and everybody
knew it. Now he was advising the western plunger to go short of it.
Well, Reading never stopped going up. It rose something like one hundred points in a
few weeks. One day old West-lake ran smack up against John W. in the Street, but he
made out he hadn't seen him and was walking on. John W. Gates caught up with him,
his face all smiles and held out his hand. Old Westlake shook it dazedly.
"I want to thank you for that tip you gave me on Reading," said Gates.
"I didn't give you any tip," said Westlake, frowning.
"Sure you did. And it was a Jim Hickey of a tip too. I made sixty thousand dollars."
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