The Tipster | Page 6

and in a burst of mild remorse he told Smithers,
after an apprehensive look about him as if he feared some one might
overhear: "I'll tell you something, on the dead q. t., for your own
benefit."
"Fire away!"
"Pa. Cent, is going 'way up."
"Yes?" said Smithers, calmly.
"Yes; it will cross par sure."
"Umph!" between munches of a pretzel.
"Yes. Sam Sharpe told"--Gilmartin was on the point of saying a "friend
of mine," but caught himself and went on, impressively--"told me,
yesterday, to buy Pa. Cent., as he had accumulated his full line, and
was ready to whoop it up. And you know what Sharpe is," he finished,
as if he thought Smithers was familiar with Sharpe's powers.
"Is that so," nibbled Smithers.
"Why, when Sharpe makes up his mind to put up a stock, as he intends
to do with Pa. Cent., nothing on earth can stop him. He told me he
would make it cross par within sixty days. This is no hearsay, no tip.
It's cold facts, I don't hear it's going up; I don't think it's going up; I
know it's going up. Understand?" And he shook his right forefinger
with a hammering motion.
In less than five minutes Smithers was so wrought up that he bought
500 shares and promised solemnly not to "take his profits," s. o. sell out,
until Gilmartin said the word. Then they had another drink and another
look at the ticker.
"You want to keep in touch with me," was Gilmartin's parting shot. "I'll

tell you what Sharpe tells me. But you must keep it quiet," with a
sidewise nod that pledged Smithers to honorable secrecy.
Had Gilmartin met Sharpe face to face, he would not have known who
was before him.
Shortly after he left Smithers he buttonholed another acquaintance, a
young man who thought he knew Wall Street, and therefore had a
hobby--manipulation. No one could induce him to buy stocks by telling
him how well the companies were doing, how bright the prospects, etc.
That was bait for "suckers," not for clever young stock operators. But
any one, even a stranger, who said that "they"--the perennially
mysterious "they," the "big men," the mighty "manipulators" whose life
was one prolonged conspiracy to pull the wool over the public's
eyes--"they" were going to "jack up" these or the other shares, was
welcomed and his advice acted upon. Young Freeman believed in
nothing but "their" wickedness and "their" power to advance or depress
stock values at will. Thinking of his wisdom had given him a chronic
sneer.
"You're just the man I was looking for," said Gilmartin, who hadn't
thought of the young man at all.
"Are you a deputy sheriff?"
"No." A slight pause for oratorical effect. "I had a long talk with Sam
to-day."
"What Sam?"
"Sharpe. The old boy sent for me. He was in mighty good humor too.
Tickled to death. He might well be--he's got 60,000 shares of
Pennsylvania Central. And there's going to be from 50 to 60 points
profit in it."
"H'm!" sniffed Freeman, sceptically, yet impressed by the change In
Gilmartin's attitude from the money-borrowing humility of the previous
week to the confident tone of a man with a straight tip. Sharpe was

notoriously kind to his old friends--rich or poor.
"I was there when the papers were signed," Gilmartin said, hotly. "I
was going to leave the room, but Sam told me I needn't. I can't tell you
what it is about; really I can't. But he's simply going to put the stock
above par. It's 64 1/2 now, and you know and I know that by the time it
is 75 the newspapers will all be talking about inside buying; and at 85
everybody will want to buy it on account of important developments;
and at 95 there will be millions of bull tips on it and rumors of
increased dividends, and people who would not look at it thirty points
lower will rush in and buy it by the bushel. Let me know who is
manipulating a stock, and to h--l with dividends and earnings. Them's
my sentiments," with a final hammering nod, as if driving in a profound
truth.
"Same here," assented Freeman, cordially. He was attacked on his
vulnerable side.
Strange things happen in Wall Street. Sometimes tips come true. It so
proved in this case. Sharpe started the stock upward brilliantly--the
movement became historic in the Street--and Pa. Cent, soared dizzily
and all the newspapers talked of it and the public went mad over it and
it touched 80 and 85 and 88 and higher, and then Gilmartin made his
brother-in-law sell out and Smithers and Freeman. Their profits were:
Griggs, $8,000; Smithers, $15,100; Freeman, $2,750. Gilmartin made
them give him a good percentage. He had