contributed in due proportion, and an immense amount of coffee was bought against a prospective scarcity. The condition Mr. Lewisohn anticipated did not immediately develop, and instead of rising, coffee dropped down and down until the $5,000,000 and more were all used up. Another man would have called on his associates for additional margin, or, at least, closed up the deal. Not so Leonard Lewisohn. Though some of the other members of the combination were many times richer than he, he shouldered the burden alone, saying: "It's my scheme, and I'll carry it if it breaks me, or until my judgment is proven sound." Still coffee declined until he had sunk $12,000,000, but never a whimper and not a word of complaint to his partners. Things were near the worst when he died, but he had instructed his heirs not to wind the deal up until every cent of his associates' liability was wiped out.
There came a time not long ago when Leonard Lewisohn's foresight was vindicated, and an advance in the price of the commodity relieved the "Standard Oil" coterie of their responsibility. The sons of the old man then desired to dispose of the great holdings of coffee, and so close the deal and secure the locked-up millions for the estate. They went to the various members of the syndicate and asked them to sign a release simply agreeing to relieve the estate of liability for presumptive profits growing out of further advances in coffee after they had sold out. It was a very ordinary legal precaution, and no great favor to the Lewisohns under the circumstances. The members of the syndicate signed the release in due course, until the document finally came to Henry H. Rogers, and this is the contrasting picture:
"Coffee is going up, I think," said the "Standard Oil" magnate, "and now that the Lewisohns have extricated themselves from a bad hole, they may as well carry the stuff until I get some profit out of it. Neither Mr. Rockefeller nor I will sign that document."