Halsey Co. | Page 3

"Gimme ten dollars," Fred said, "and keep the rest in the bank for me."
"Very well; here's the ten," and Fred took the bill and went out on the
street, feeling richer than ever before in his life.
CHAPTER II.
--Halsey & Company.
Fred Halsey was a sturdy youth of sixteen whose father had died when
he was but ten years old. He was a manly little fellow who knew how
to take care of himself in his career of newsboy. He had laughing blue
eyes and a handsome face, while his mouth showed that he possessed a
dauntless spirit. His mother died long before his father did, and he and
his little sister lived with an aunt--his mother's sister--who was a
childless widow. She was a mother to him and Adah, who was two
years younger than Fred, a pretty blue-eyed little miss with golden hair
and pearly teeth.

She did washing, and Fred sold papers, while Adah was a cash girl in
one of the big stores on Grand street. Even then it was but a poor living
for them in the great city, where grasping landlords demanded rent
money with the regularity of the almanac. When Fred Halsey went out
of the bank with ten dollars in his pocket and $250 more in the bank
behind him, he had a feeling in his heart he never had there before. The
whole world seemed opened to him. Rich bankers and brokers had
shaken hands with him and praised him for what he had done.
"And I'm rich now myself," he said to himself, as he darted up toward
Broadway. "Whew! I'm rich! I'm rich!"
"Hello, Fred!"
"Hello, Bob! Where are you going?"
"Up to the telegraph office."
"I'm going that way, too," and he went along with Bob Newcombe, a
messenger boy in Broker Manson's office, who was his chum and
friend, and about the same age as himself.
"Sold all your papers?" Bob asked.
"Yes, all I am going to sell to-day,"
"Made enough to stop on, eh?"
"Yes."
Bob laughed and remarked:
"If I had a hundred dollars I could make three hundred in a week."
Fred started.
"How?" he asked.
"Big deal going on in the Stock Exchange. Heard 'em fixing it up in the

office this morning."
"What is it?"
"Corner in B. & H."
Fred had been selling papers in Wall Street long enough to be familiar
with all the terms used by brokers and bankers. He knew all about
"puts" and "calls," "bulls" and "bears," and had read eagerly the stories
of fortunes won or lost in the mad whirl of speculation down there.
"Sure you could make it, Bob?" he finally asked of the messenger boy.
"Of course I am. I've seen it done many a time. When three or four big
brokers club together to boom a stock it booms, and then the lambs lose
their fleece."
"But wouldn't you be a lamb and lose your fleece, too?"
"No. I wouldn't buy when it had boomed. I'd buy before and sell when
it went up."
They entered the telegraph office, and Bob sent off the message he had
brought, after which they went out on the street again.
"What's B. & H. going at now?" Fred asked.
"It's going at forty-seven. It will be up to fifty to-morrow when the
Stock Exchange closes."
"How do you know that?"
"Mr. Manson is going to buy up all the stock. He has millions behind
him. The stock will go up, up, up, till it topples over on the lambs. Oh,
I've seen it done a dozen times. If I had one hundred dollars, I'd put it
up on ten percent margin--every dollar of it--and scoop in three
hundred dollars inside of a week."
"Say, Bob, I've got the 'scads.'"

"Eh! Huh?" and Bob stopped and stared at him.
"I've got the 'chink,' the 'rhino,' the hundred dollars," and Fred told him
the story of what had taken place in the bank but a short half hour
before.
Bob was staggered.
"Git a hundred quick, Fred. Mr. Tabor will buy on a margin for us."
"Come on. I'll do it," and Fred hurried back to the bank and sent word
in to Mr. Barron that he wanted $100 more of his money.
It was sent out to him, and he and Bob ran round to Broker Tabor's
office. It lacked but ten minutes of three o'clock.
"Mr. Tabor, will you buy on a margin for us?" Bob asked the broker.
"Hello, Halsey!" exclaimed the broker, on seeing Fred.
"Hello, sir," returned Fred, seeing he was one of the brokers who had
given him the money in Barron's office.
"Yes. What is it you want bought?" the broker asked Bob.
"B. & H., sir."
"All right; where's