Friday, the Thirteenth

Friday, the Thirteenth, by
Thomas W. Lawson

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Title: Friday, the Thirteenth
Author: Thomas W. Lawson
Release Date: May 14, 2004 [EBook #12345]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
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[Illustration: "I saw there something missing from her great blue eyes. I
looked; gasped"]

Friday, the Thirteenth
A Novel by
Thomas W. Lawson
Frontispiece in colour by Sigismond de Ivanowski
1907

Copyright, 1906, 1907. Copyright, 1907. Published, February, 1907

To Her
I Dedicate This Book
All That Is Good In This Little Waif, Which Is Very Dear To Me, I
Know A Just God Will Place To Her Credit. All That Is Mean And
Low And Human Could Never Have Been Birthed Had She Been Nigh
To Guide An Ever Wayward Pen.
The Author.
The Nest, Dreamwold, August, 1906.

Friday, the Thirteenth
Chapter I.

"Friday, the 13th; I thought as much. If Bob has started, there will be
hell, but I will see what I can do."
The sound of my voice, as I dropped the receiver, seemed to part the

mists of five years and usher me into the world of Then as though it
had never passed on.
I had been sitting in my office, letting the tape slide through my fingers
while its every yard spelled "panic" in a constantly rising voice, when
they told me that Brownley on the floor of the Exchange wanted me at
the 'phone, and "quick." Brownley was our junior partner and floor man.
He talked with a rush. Stock Exchange floor men in panics never let
their speech hobble.
"Mr. Randolph, it's sizzling over here, and it's getting hotter every
second. It's Bob--that is evident to all. If he keeps up this pace for
twenty minutes longer, the sulphur will overflow 'the Street' and get
into the banks and into the country, and no man can tell how much
territory will be burned over by to-morrow. The boys have begged me
to ask you to throw yourself into the breach and stay him. They agree
you are the only hope now."
"Are you sure, Fred, that this is Bob's work?" I asked. "Have you seen
him?"
"Yes, I have just come from his office, and glad I was to get out. He's
on the war-path, Mr. Randolph--uglier than I ever saw him. The last
time he broke loose was child's play to his mood to-day. Mother sent
me word this morning that she saw last night the spell was coming. He
had been up to see her and sisters, and mother thought from his tone he
was about to disappear again. When she told me of his mood, and I
remembered the day, I was afraid he might seek his vent here. Also I
heard of his being about town till long after midnight. The minute I
opened his office door this morning he flew at me like a panther. I told
him I had only dropped in on my rounds for an order, as they were
running off right smart, and I didn't know but he might like to pick up
some bargains. 'Bargains!' he roared, 'don't you know the day? Don't
you know it is Friday, the 13th? Go back to that hell-pit and sell, sell,
sell.' 'Sell what and how much?' I asked. 'Anything, everything. Give
the thieves every share they will take, and when they won't take any
more, ram as much again down their crops until they spit up all they
have been buying for the last three months!' Going out I met Jim

Holliday and Frank Swan rushing in. They are evidently executing
Bob's orders, and have been pouring Anti-People's out for an hour.
They will be on the floor again in a few minutes, so I thought it safer to
call you before I started to sell. Mr. Randolph, they cannot take much
more of anything in here, and if I begin to throw stocks over, it will
bring the gavel inside of ten minutes; and that will be to announce a
dozen failures. It's yet twenty minutes to one and God only knows what
will happen before three. It's up to you, Mr. Randolph, to do something,
and unless I am on a bad slant, you haven't many minutes to lose."
It was then I dropped the receiver with "I thought as much!" As I had
been fingering the tape,