Once a Week
Page 4
THE FINANCIER. I
This is how I became a West African mining magnate with a stake in theEmpire.
During February I grew suddenly tired of waiting for the summer tobegin. London in the summer is a pleasant place, and chiefly so becauseyou can keep on buying evening papers to see what Kent is doing. InFebruary life has no such excitements to offer. So I wrote to mysolicitor about it.
"I want you" (I wrote) "to buy me fifty rubber shares, so that I canwatch them go up and down." And I added "Brokerage 1/8" to show that Iknew what I was talking about.
He replied tersely as follows:--
"Don't be a fool. If you have any money to invest I can get you a safemortgage at five per cent. Let me know."
It's a funny thing how the minds of solicitors run upon mortgages. Ifthey would only stop to think for a moment they would see that youcouldn't possibly watch a safe mortgage go up and down. I left mysolicitor alone and consulted Henry on the subject. In the intervalsbetween golf and golf Henry dabbles in finance.
"You don't want anything gilt-edged, I gather?" he said. It's wonderfulhow they talk.
"I want it to go up and down," I explained patiently, and I indicatedthe required movement with my umbrella.
"What about a little flutter in oil?" he went on, just like a financierin a novel.
"I'll have a little flutter in raspberry jam if you like. Anything aslong as I can rush every night for the last edition of the eveningpapers and say now and then, 'Good heavens, I'm ruined.'"
"Then you'd better try a gold-mine," said Henry bitterly, in the voiceof one who had tried. "Take your choice," and he threw the paper over tome.
"I don't want a whole mine--only a vein or two. Yes, this is veryinteresting," I went on, as I got among the West Africans. "The scoringseems to be pretty low; I suppose it must have been a wet wicket. 'H.E.Reef, 1-3/4, 2'--he did a little better in the second innings. '1/2,Boffin River, 5/16, 7/16'--they followed on, you see, but they saved theinnings defeat. By the way, which figure do I really keep my eye on whenI want to watch them go up and down?"
"Both. One eye on each. And don't talk about Boffin River to me."
"Is it like that, Henry? I am sorry. I suppose it's too late now tooffer you a safe mortgage at five per cent? I know a man who has some.Well, perhaps you're right."
On the next day I became a magnate. The Jaguar Mine was the one I fixedupon--for two reasons. First, the figure immediately after it was 1,which struck me as a good point from which to watch it go up and down.Secondly, I met a man at lunch who knew somebody who had actually seenthe Jaguar Mine.
"He says that there's no doubt about there being lots there."
"Lots of what? Jaguars or gold?"
"Ah, he didn't say. Perhaps he meant jaguars."
Anyhow, it was an even chance, and I decided to risk it. In a week'stime I was the owner of what we call in the City a "block" ofJaguars--bought from one Herbert Bellingham, who, I suppose, had beengot at by his solicitor and compelled to return to something safe. Iwas a West African magnate.
My first two months as a magnate were a great success. With my heart inmy mouth I would tear open the financial editions of the evening papers,to find one day that Jaguars had soared like a rocket to 1-1/16, thenext that they had dropped like a stone to 1-1/32. There was oneterrible afternoon when for some reason which will never be properlyexplained we sank to 15/16. I think the European situation had somethingto do with it, though this naturally is not admitted. Lord Rothschild, Ifancy, suddenly threw all his Jaguars on the market; he sold and soldand sold, and only held his hand when, in desperation, the Tsar grantedthe concession for his new Southend to Siberia railway. Something likethat. But he never recked how the private investor would suffer; andthere was I, sitting at home and sending out madly for all the papers,until my rooms were littered with copies of _The Times_, _The FinancialNews_, _Answers_, _The Feathered World_, and _Home Chat_. Next day wewere up to 31/32, and I was able to breathe again.
But I had other pleasures than these. Previously I had regarded the Citywith awe, but now I felt a glow of possession come over me whenever Iapproached it. Often in those first two months I used to lean againstthe Mansion House in a familiar sort of way; once I struck a matchagainst the Royal Exchange. And what an impression of financial acumen Icould make in a drawing-room by a careless reference to my "block ofJaguars"! Even those who misunderstood me and thought I spoke of my"flock of jaguars" were startled. Indeed life was very good just then.
But lately things have not been going well. At the beginning of AprilJaguars settled down at 1-1/16. Though I stood for hours at the clubtape, my hair standing up on end and my eyeballs starting from theirsockets, Jaguars still came through steadily at 1-1/16. To give them achance of doing something, I left them alone for a whole week--with whatagony you can imagine. Then I looked again; a whole week and anythingmight have happened. Pauper or millionaire?--No, still 1-1/16.
Worse was to follow. Editors actually took to leaving out Jaguarsaltogether. I suppose they were sick of putting 1-1/16 in every edition.But how ridiculous it made my idea seem of watching them go up and down!How blank life became again!
And now what I dreaded most of all has happened. I have received a"Progress Report" from the mine. It gives the "total footage" for themonth, special reference being made to "cross-cutting, winzing, andsinking." The amount of "tons crushed" is announced. There is serioustalk of "ore" being "extracted"; indeed there has already been a mostalarming "yield in fine gold." In short, it can no longer be hushed upthat the property may at any moment be "placed on a dividend-payingbasis."
Probably I shall be getting a safe five per cent!
"Dash it all," as I said to my solicitor this morning, "I might just aswell have bought a rotten mortgage."
THE FINANCIER. II
(_Eighteen months later_)
It is nearly two years ago that I began speculating in West Africanmines. You may remember what a stir my entry into the financial worldcreated; how Sir Isaac Isaacstein went mad and shot himself; how SirSamuel Samuelstein went mad and shot his typist; and how Sir MosesMosestein went mad and shot his typewriter, permanently damaging theletter "s." There was panic in the City on that February day in 1912when I bought Jaguars and set the market rocking.
I bought Jaguars partly for the rise and partly for the thrill. Indescribing my speculation to you eighteen months ago I dwelt chiefly onthe thrill part; I alleged that I wanted to see them go up and down. Itwould have been more accurate to have said that I wanted to see them goup. It was because I was sure they were going up that, with the unitedsupport of my solicitor, my stockbroker, my land agent, my doctor, myarchitect and my vicar (most of them hired for the occasion), I boughtfifty shares in the Jaguar mine of West Africa.
When I bought Jaguars they were at 1--1-1/16. This means that---- No, onsecond thoughts I won't. There was a time when, in the pride of my newknowledge, I should have insisted on explaining to you what it meant,but I am getting _blase_ now; besides, you probably know. It is enoughthat I bought them, and bought them on the distinct understanding frommy financial adviser that by the end of the month they would be up to 2.In that case I should have made rather more than forty pounds in a fewdays, simply by assembling together my solicitor, stockbroker,land-agent, etc., etc., in London, and without going to West Africa atall. A wonderful thought.
At the end of a month Jaguars were steady at 1-1/16; and I had receiveda report from the mine to the effect that down below they were simplyhacking gold out as fast as they could hack, and up at the top were verybusy rinsing and washing and sponging and drying it. The next month thesituation was the same: Jaguars in London very steady at 1-1/16, Jaguardiggers in West Africa very steady at gold-digging. And at the end ofthe third month I realized not only that I was not going to have anythrills at all, but (even worse) that I was not going to make any moneyat all. I had been deceived.
. . . . .
That was where, eighteen
months ago, I left the story of my City life. Agood deal has happened since then; as a result of which I am once moreeagerly watching the price of Jaguars.
A month or two after I had written about them, Jaguars began to go down.They did it (as they have done everything since I have known them)stupidly. If they had dropped in a single night to 3/4, I should atleast have had my thrill. I should have suffered in a single night theloss of some pounds, and I could have borne it dramatically; either withthe sternness of the silent Saxon, or else with the volubility of thevolatile--I can't think of anybody beginning with a "V." But, alas!Jaguars never dropped at all. They subsided. They subsided slowly backto 1--so slowly that you could hardly observe them going. A week laterthey were 63/64, which, of course, is practically the same as 1. A monthafterwards they were 31/32, and it is a debatable point whether that isless or more than 63/64. Anyhow, by the time I had worked it out anddecided that it was slightly less, they were at 61/64, and one had thesame trouble all over again. At 61/64 I left them for a time; and whenI next read the financial column they were at 15/16, which still seemedto be fairly near to 1. And even when at last, after many months, Ifound them down to 7/8 I was not seriously alarmed, but felt that it wasdue to some little local trouble (as that the manager had fallen downthe main shaft and was preventing the gold being shot out properly), andthat, when the obstruction had been removed, Jaguars would go up to 1again.
But they didn't. They continued to subside. When they had subsided to1/2 I woke up. My dream of financial glory was over. I had lost my moneyand my faith in the City; well, let them go. With an effort I washedJaguars out of my mind. Henceforward they were nothing to me.
And then, months after, Andrew came on the scene. At lunch one day hehappened to mention that he had been talking to his broker.
"Do you often talk to your broker?" I asked in admiration. It sounded somagnificent.
"Often."
"I haven't got a broker to talk to. When you next chat to yours, I wishyou'd lead the conversation round to Jaguars and see what he says."
"Why, have you got some?"
"Yes, but they're no good. Have a cigarette, won't you?"
Next morning to my amazement I got a telegram from Andrew. "Can get youten shillings for Jaguars. Wire if you will sell, and how many."
It was really a shock to me. When I had asked Andrew to mention Jaguarsto his broker it was solely in the hope of hearing some humorous Citycomment on their futility--one of those crisp jests for which the StockExchange is famous. I had no idea that his broker might like to buy themfrom me.
I wired back: "Sell fifty, quick."
Next day he told me he had sold them.
"That's all right," I said cheerfully; "they're his. He can watch themgo up and down. When do I get my twenty-five pounds?" To savetwenty-five pounds from the wreck was wonderful.
"Not for a month; and, of course, you don't deliver the shares tillthen."
"What do you mean, 'deliver the shares'?" I asked in alarm. "I haven'tgot the gold-mine here; it's in Africa or somewhere. Must I go outand----"
"But you've got a certificate for them."
My heart sank.
"Have I?" I whispered. "Good Lord, I wonder where it is."
I went home and looked. I looked for two days; I searched drawers anddesks and letter-books and safes and ice-tanks and trouser-presses--everyplace in which a certificate might hide. It was no good. I went back toAndrew. I was calm.
"About these Jaguars," I said casually. "I don't quite understand myposition. What have I promised to do? And can they put me in prison if Idon't do it?"
"You've promised to sell fifty Jaguars to a man called Stevens by themiddle of next month. That's all."
"I see," I said, and I went home again.
And I suppose you see too. I've got to sell fifty Jaguars to a mancalled Stevens by the middle of next month. Although I really have fiftyfully matured ones of my own, there's nothing to prove it, and they areso suspicious in the City that they will never take my bare word. So Ishall have to buy fifty new Jaguars for this man called Stevens--and buythem by the middle of next month.
And this is why I am still eagerly watching the price of Jaguars.Yesterday they were 5/8. I am hoping that by the middle of next monththey will be down to 1/2 again. But I find it difficult to remembersometimes which way I want them to go. This afternoon, for instance,when I saw they had risen to 11/16 I was quite excited for a moment; Iwent out and bought some cigars on the strength of it. Then Iremembered; and I came home and almost decided to sell the pianola. Itis very confusing. You must see how very confusing it is.