blackboards and tickers, I had a small office in which I spent a good deal
of time during Stock Exchange hours. It was there that Sam Ellersly found
me the next day but one after my talk with Roebuck.

"I want you to sell that Steel Common, Matt," said he.

"It'll go several points higher," said I. "Better let me hold it and use my
judgment on selling."

"I need money--right away," was his answer.

"That's all right," said I. "Let me give you an order for what you need."

"Thank you, thank you," said he, so promptly that I knew I had done what he
had been hoping for, probably counting on.

I give this incident to show what our relations were. He was a young fellow
of good family, to whom I had taken a liking. He was a lazy dog, and as out
of place in business as a cat in a choir. I had been keeping him going for
four years at that time, by giving him tips on stocks and protecting him
against loss. This purely out of good nature and liking; for I hadn't the
remotest idea he could ever be of use to me beyond helping to liven things
up at a dinner or late supper, or down in the country, or on the yacht. In
fact, his principal use to me was that he knew how to "beat the box" well
enough to shake fairly good music out of it--and I am so fond of music that
I can fill in with my imagination when the performer isn't too bad.

They have charged that I deliberately ruined him. Ruined! The first time I
gave him a tip--and that was the second or third time I ever saw him--he
burst into tears and said: "You've saved my life, Blacklock. I'll never