Atlantic and toasted in vintage champagnes the brilliant promoters who had worked such wonders. At these entertainments there was no question but that Utah was destined to be the foundation company in the coming great copper consolidation.
With this roseate view Mr. Rogers did not entirely coincide. His diagnosis of the situation had all that whichever-way-the-cat-jumps frankness I had learned to look upon as characteristic of the man. He said to me:
"Lawson, this is the situation: We are in absolute control of the Utah property. If it were good we could do great things with it, but it's bad, very bad; there is nothing out there but a bunch of ore which is rich enough, but which cannot possibly last longer than six years, and then—then there is nothing but a hole in the ground. Of course there is a possibility of our finding other bunches, but with all the machinery in our hands it looks to me as though we could play a very safe game. If we find things that will make the stock valuable, we can keep the good news buried until we shake the price down and get whatever we want. If it is all bad, we can sell the stock and buy it in at big profits. I think, on the whole, it is safe to call this deal completed and mark it a success."
With this understanding we left it, and for some little time I paid no attention whatever to Utah. One day I was surprised to notice on the tape that the price of the stock was declining. I was puzzling over what could have happened, when I received a sudden call from the Machiavelli of the New York Bar, Samuel Untermyer. The set glare of his eyes, the fervor of his hand-shake, told me that I had a volcano to deal with.
"Lawson," said he, "something came up the other day that led me to investigate, and do you know, I have got to a point already where I can put my fingers on people, outside of any one connected with 'Standard Oil,' who own over 200,000 shares of Utah. If this is so, how can Rogers