The Lewisohns were down for eleven millions, and Mr. Rogers' old cronies, John Moore's firm, were represented by a subscription of between six and seven millions. As I ran over the names I found million after million down to Mr. Rogers' friends, which told me that he had spared no one. All the lieutenants and the queer people who do the confidential business of the "System," and invariably turn up at melon-cutting time, were down for round amounts. Conspicuous among the rest was the name of that rising votary of the "System" who won notoriety, while Comptroller of the Currency under President Cleveland, as manipulator of the slick bond deal which has gone into American history as among the queerest performances of its period. Loaded up with Government banking secrets, this young man subsequently became a prize for whom the various organizations of the "System" competed valorously. There he was, in three places—James H. Eckels, President of the Commercial Bank of Chicago, 6,000, 2,000, and 2,000 shares—or a million dollars altogether.
Another name caught my eye: "Bay State Gas Co., J. Edward Addicks, 20,000 shares"—two millions of dollars. I leaned back and laughed as I thought of this wary old fox, with the bruises and scars of the "System's" hopper thick all over his body, dutifully bringing his contribution to his old enemy, Rogers. And Rogers, disdainful and contemptuous of the man, found his $400,000 good. This, I said to myself, is a case of spider eat spider with a vengeance; and I wondered if experience is really as good a teacher as the text-book says.
Hour after hour I pondered over that list, "sizing up" each subscriber and questioning what his financial condition might be. At last I dropped it, swearing to myself to use every effort to protect these thousands of people who had ventured so much money on the strength of my pledges.
Two days later the allotments were officially announced; in a few days more the receipts were issued and Amalgamated was fairly out in the