40 WALL STREET AND THE WILDS 



coming Fourth of July with him at his home at 

 Southport. I dreamed of that visit until I made 

 it, and so vivid was the vision of the house as my 

 fancy pictured it that it remains in my memory 

 from which the real house has faded away. But 

 the visit itself is fresh in my mind from the story 

 of his own great business told me in response to 

 the eager interest which he must have read in my 

 face. 



It was long before commissions on stocks and 

 foreign exchange caught up with our modest desk 

 room rent and my munificent salary, but another 

 door of opportunity opened. The well-to-do 

 brother had his troubles for rents rolled up and 

 dividends poured in until a fat bank balance 

 loomed like a specter before his eyes. 



"Something must be done to soak up that 

 money," was his frequent comment to me, and my 

 only reply was an attitude of silent sympathy, 

 though I longed to suggest methods of relief. 

 Money was in sharp commercial demand, and as 

 he was principled against taking more than the 

 legal rate he permitted my employer to discount 



