From legendary short seller to god of American capital

Chapter 11 Coca-Cola

On his first solo trade, Larry Livingston earned $54.5. Holding that stack of dollars close to his heart, Larry was overjoyed.

Where should we go this afternoon? It's only a little before 2:30.

Larry strolled through the streets of Boston, glancing at the Old North Church and the Atlantic Ocean to the east of Boston, feeling smug and needing to vent his frustrations.

But when Larry reached the entrance of Brattle Bookstore, he stopped.

Through the shop window, Larry saw that the bookstore was full of all kinds of elegantly framed books. The counter was empty, and an elderly man with a beautiful beard, who looked like the store manager, was arranging books in front of the bookshelves.

In Boston in 1891, bookstores were very luxurious and elegant places, frequented only by the upper class, and where afternoon tea and reading salons could be held.

Obviously, there was no such gathering today.

Larry felt a strong urge to enter the bookstore. He glanced down at his old shirt and the patched-up coat at the elbows, his shabby attire making him somewhat ashamed to push open the bookstore door.

But thinking about the profits in his shirt pocket, Larry found his confidence.

Money gives men courage.

"Ding Dong!"

As the copper bell rang, the old shopkeeper, hunched over, looked in the direction of the sound and saw a blond boy peek into the bookstore, then flash him a very infectious smile.

"Welcome, my child!"

The store manager smiled and said something, then slowly straightened his back, carried a few books to the counter, and began to repair the slightly damaged books.

Bookstores are usually like this: the manager just gives a greeting and then doesn't interfere with customers' browsing and purchasing of books, nor does he make any recommendations.

After a long while, the store manager finally looked up from his work and realized that the blond boy was not standing in the novel section.

Instead of reading Mark Twain's "Adventures of Huckleberry Finn" and "Adventures of Tom Sawyer," or Henry James's "Daisy Miller" with its gold-embossed bamboo-shaped back, I casually browsed through the knowledge books section, focusing on economic books such as "The Book of Getting Rich" and "The Tea Trade Records."

The shopkeeper was curious. He stroked his beard and watched with interest as the little boy continued to choose books.

After a while, he picked up a book called "The Art of Speculation" and stood in front of the bookshelf to read it carefully.

The boy looked at the book for a while before reluctantly putting it down and continuing to browse the books that interested him in the bookshelf.

Before long, the boy's eyes suddenly widened as he stared intently at a book, looking down at it with focused concentration.

The shopkeeper became even more curious. He pretended to put the framed book back and quietly walked behind the boy. He saw that the book the boy was staring at was called "The Origin of the Family, Private Property and the State," and the author was an Englishman.

The blond boy noticed the store manager approaching, turned to him with a friendly smile, then pointed to the book and asked, "Can books like this be sold in America?"

The shop manager looked puzzled, tilted his head to think for a moment, and then replied with a smile, "This isn't the time of the War of Independence anymore, so of course British books can be sold here. If you like British books, I recommend this one..."

As he spoke, he walked to the "New Arrivals" shelf, took out a copy of "The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes," handed it to the boy, and continued to smile.

"A boy your age would love this the most!"

The boy was also delighted to see the Sherlock Holmes stories, but he held the book not so much out of interest in the content, but rather out of satisfaction at having seen the book itself.

However, after the initial excitement wore off, the boy put both books aside and looked up at the shopkeeper, saying...

"Sir, I won't choose either of these books. I'd like to see books about making money, or rather, books that describe the American or global economy."

The store manager raised an eyebrow. "Aren't you talking about books like 'The Book of Getting Rich'?"

"No, it should be more like a methodology book such as 'The Art of Speculation' or an economic book that reflects reality."

"Alright, kid!" The shopkeeper was a little surprised. After a moment's thought, he took a paperback book with a green spine from the bookshelf, pulled it out, and handed it to the boy.

"Son, this book is called 'The Political Economy of American Industrialization.' It mainly talks about how the Republican Party stabilized the exchange rate through the gold standard, attracted British capital, and how it led to deflation across the United States, which in turn led to a long-term slump in agricultural product prices... It should meet your requirements."

The boy's eyes lit up, and he quickly picked up the book and began flipping through it with great interest.

After reading for less than three minutes, the boy closed the book, looked up at the shopkeeper, and said, "I'll take this book. How much is it?"

The shop manager hesitated for a moment, but still suggested, "This book has been here for a year and a half, and I haven't sold a single copy. Kid, are you sure you really want it?"

"Yes, sir!" the boy replied.

"Oh, okay, the original price is $1.25, but if you really need it... 90 cents!"

The boy was slightly surprised, but he still took out a $1 bill and handed it to the shopkeeper.

The shopkeeper went to his counter, put the $1 in the cash box, and took out a 10-cent coin, handing it back to the boy.

"What's your name, child?" the shopkeeper asked.

The blond boy replied, "Larry Livingston."

The store manager thought for a moment, then suddenly smiled and said, "It's been a long time since I've seen a young person like you who is so passionate about knowledge. How about this, I'll buy you a drink! Please wait a moment... Martha! Come down and relieve me for a bit."

The store manager turned and called to the second floor. A moment later, a young woman with black hair came down from the second floor and stood in front of the counter in his place.

The store manager put on his suit jacket, patted Larry on the shoulder, and said, "Come on, Larry, that place is right next door!"

Larry followed the shopkeeper out of Brattle Bookstore, still clutching his newly bought late 19th-century edition of "Currency Wars" tightly in his hands, and walked with the old shopkeeper to the Cherry Valley Pharmacy next door.

Larry knew that pharmacies these days usually sold alcohol and beverages, so he wasn't surprised.

But when he watched the pharmacist pour a lump of thick, black syrup into a one-liter glass, then add cane sugar and soda water, and then frantically stir it, he was truly astonished!

I wondered, could this be that thing? Has it been invented yet?

After the pharmacist finished stirring, he poured the black drink into two small cups and handed them to the old manager and Larry. Larry saw tiny bubbles floating in the black liquid, which further confirmed his judgment.

The old shop manager raised his glass to him in a gesture of invitation, smiling as he introduced, "Coca-Cola! Kid, this is a super potent drink I recently discovered. I was going to buy you one, but I felt that alcoholic beverages were still a bit too early for you, and coffee is too bitter. Why don't you try this? It's sweet!"

Larry took a deep breath, his lips trembling slightly.

"Thank you! Manager, I really, really want a sip!"

As he spoke, Larry couldn't wait to drink the earliest version of the original Coke.

Wow! It tastes exactly the same as it will a hundred years from now!

No, no, it seems even more exciting!!