MARKET MANIPULATION 89 



of a hundred shouted offers to sell, while prices 

 tumbled by points and rallied in big fractions, 

 when a hundred thousand gold was offered on 

 my left hand at a price one-half per cent lower 

 than was bid on my right and when modest mem- 

 bers of the Exchange, for there have been such, 

 were raving like maniacs, the machine worked on. 

 We didn't talk in those days of subconscious 

 selves, but I had one that worked overtime for 

 me. As with nods and words I bought and sold, 

 jotting down as many of the transactions as 

 nimble fingers were capable of, and holding the 

 rest in memory, that subconscious imp kept tabs 

 on my trades and had a balance sheet ready for 

 me the instant I asked it. 



Money was pouring into our coffers by thou- 

 sands of dollars, tens and twenties and fifties of 

 them, but the machine held my jubilation down 

 and suppressed all signs of unseemly exultation. 

 It held me to the simplicity of the system and 

 kept me from increasing the unit of operation, 

 which in the hours of triumph I was often 

 tempted to do. When the central point of the 



