From legendary short seller to god of American capital

Chapter 80: The information was leaked.



Chapter 80: The information was leaked.

At 4:50 a.m., the train stopped at New Haven station.

It was the darkest time before dawn. Larry, feeling extremely sleepy, stumbled into the lounge reserved for first-class passengers, carrying a small leather suitcase full of documents and his own luggage.

There is a small cabinet next to the sofa chairs where guests can lock their valuables.

Larry locked the documents and luggage inside, tucked the key into his pocket, and fell into a deep sleep with his arms wrapped around his shoulders.

When Larry woke up again, it was already daylight. He rubbed his eyes, glanced at the clock on the wall of the lounge, and saw that it was only a little past 7 a.m. He thought to himself that the train in New York didn't leave until noon, so there was still a long time to go.

Standing up, Larry first checked that his wallet and gun were on him, then touched the key to the small cabinet, stretched, and walked out of the first-class lounge step by step.

A tall, black waiter stood guard at the entrance to the lounge. He greeted Larry with a friendly "Good morning" before asking to check Larry's ticket.

After verifying that the ticket was correct, the Black waiter kindly told Larry that he could use a hot towel to wipe his face in the restroom for free; if he wanted to have breakfast, he could go to the second floor of the train station, where the cafe sold breakfast, which was also free to eat if he showed his ticket.

Larry nodded, thinking to himself that the experience of being rich in America is different; everywhere you look, you're met with friendliness and kindness.

After having breakfast, Larry strolled out of the train station.

New Haven's train station is built on the seashore, and it's only a quarter of a mile from the station square to the sea dike.

Standing in the square and looking east, you see the vast blue Atlantic Ocean. The sun has just risen above the sea, and the shimmering waves emit a golden glow, which, as the waves surge in one after another, merges into the golden sand.

Larry looked at the sea and felt refreshed and in a great mood.

Larry pulled out his pocket watch and saw that it was only a little past 8 a.m., still a long time before his 12 o'clock train. He strode toward downtown New Haven, looking for a brokerage firm or betting shop, not to make a transaction, but simply to check Carnegie Steel's stock price.

New Haven is one of the oldest immigrant cities on the East Coast. As early as 1638, the Puritans who immigrated here planned the city according to biblical principles.

At the heart of the city lies a 16-acre public green space, around which stand three historically significant churches: the Central Church, the Union Church, and the Trinity Church. Their ancient and imposing Gothic spires and red brick walls define the skyline of this seaside town.

New Haven is also known as the "City of Elms," with century-old elm trees lining both sides of the main streets, their thick trunks and branches forming a canopy of arches.

It's a pity it's winter now; it would be so refreshing to come here for a summer vacation.

Larry asked passersby and learned that New Haven's financial institutions were mostly concentrated at the intersection of Church Street and College Street. So, following the street signs, he slowly found a betting shop with a very nice storefront.

A brass sign hangs on the stone building's porch, which reads "New World Brokerage Company".

It was still early before the auction started, and Larry could see two young men cleaning inside.

These days, there are far more betting companies than securities firms, since it's practically a zero-cost business. Clients can place and close orders much faster at betting companies, unlike real securities firms where you have to send telegrams back and forth. Transactions can be completed almost instantly here, so larger betting companies also have a group of wealthy people as regular clients.

Larry pondered for a moment, then stepped into the bookstore next door and bought a biography of J.P. Morgan, intending to study Mr. Morgan's life carefully during the break between train journeys to understand him as much as possible.

After buying the biography, Larry tucked the book under his arm, and seeing that it was still early, he strolled over to a fisherman's stall by the pier, took out 50 cents and bought some oysters to eat raw with lemon juice.

The oysters were delicious; Larry ate four or five and still wanted more. However, the fisherman's lemonade was leftover from the previous day and wasn't very fresh, so Larry didn't dare eat any more.

New Haven is best known for Yale University. From where Larry was, he could see Yale's stone walls, and students in dark blue uniforms were hurrying by with books in their hands. Looking at the towering buildings of Yale behind the walls, Larry couldn't help but feel a sense of longing.

The oyster-selling fisherman, who had been there for many years, glanced at Larry's attire and asked with a smile, "Sir, do you work for a securities firm?"

Larry turned to him with a faint smile, neither confirming nor denying, and asked, "Why do you think I'm your agent?"

The fisherman chuckled. "There are plenty of people like you here. I often see stockbrokers waiting in the Scholar's Cafe across the street from Yale, luring rich kids and trying to sell them railroad bonds!"

"Oh? Really? But the US already has so many railroads, the railroad market is saturated, so what are they selling railroad bonds for?"

Larry had worked in the brokerage department and had never met any stockbrokers, but he knew they were the capillaries of the entire American financial system, distributing almost 80% of new stocks and bonds nationwide.

The fisherman curled his lip and said dismissively, "Foreign ones, I heard they're selling Argentine and Chinese railway bonds. Each bond has a face value of $500! Only those bookish, gambling-study-obsessed professors would buy them."

Larry raised an eyebrow, thinking that this era was quite amazing, with China on the other side of the earth building railways and bonds being sold right at the gates of Yale University.

Around 10 o'clock, Larry strode into the New World Casino, found a spot near the bid board, and plopped down in a seat.

In succession, other customers also came to the gambling house. They were all dressed in very elegant and luxurious clothes, and the words they occasionally used in conversation were not words commonly used by ordinary people.

The stock market opened at 10:00 AM.

Larry received the first offer from Carnegie Steel, which he had been longing for: $80 and a quarter!

Oh, the blood of workers, the revelry of capital.

Larry silently shook his head, mentally calculating his profit. He figured it wouldn't be more than $80, since Larry had authorized Logan to sell when the price exceeded $75.

The price quote machine clicked and clacked, and the prices of other stocks were gradually written on the blackboard by the price scribe.

Larry had no plans to make the trade. After all, he hadn't been watching the market for the past few days and didn't have a direct feel for stock price fluctuations. Making a rash bet like this was not Larry's style.

But just then, the young man guarding the stock quote machine suddenly called out the name of a stock that Larry recognized.

"Collt firearms, $50.2!"

Larry was startled and straightened up, immediately putting down his crossed legs.

That's not right!

Why is this stock going up now?

The bond underwriting team at Paine Weber Securities is still in Hartford; the deal hasn't been finalized yet, so how come the stock price has already moved?

Larry felt he couldn't sit still any longer. He quickly grabbed his hat, stood up, walked to the counter, and asked the clerk inside.

"Can you see the stock quotes from the past few days here?"

The teller pointed to a cabinet in the corner with many long drawers and said, "Go take a look over there; the paper strips from the past few days are all there!"

Larry walked a few steps to the cabinet, found the long drawer labeled Colt firearms, and pulled it out. There were the stock quotes from the past few days, carefully bound together by date.

Larry frowned as he scrolled through Colt's stock quotes; the first unexpected rise in the stock price had occurred at the opening bell on Saturday morning.

The stock price jumped from $45.25 to around $47, and then began to fluctuate and consolidate around that level, absorbing the large number of sell orders from Colt shareholders who were overjoyed by the unexpected price jump.

Since Monday, Colt's stock price has risen by 15% without anyone noticing, and the latest price has exceeded the $50 mark!

Damn it, the information must have been leaked; someone is accumulating shares!


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