Читать книгу The New Adam - Stanley G. Weinbaum - Страница 8

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EDMOND stepped out of the building into the late afternoon sun that flashed at him from the windshields of ten thousand west-bound vehicles. He shaded his eyes for a moment, then crossed Adams Street and continued south, merging for the moment into the stream of living beings that eddied around and between the canyon-forming buildings.

'This river flows its own way, bound by laws as definite and predictable as those that govern flowing water,' he reflected. 'Mankind in the mass is a simple and controllable thing, like a peaceful river; it is only in the individual that there is a little fire of independence.'

He entered the lobby of a great white skyscraper. Disregarding the clicking of the elevator starters, he mounted the stairs to the second floor, turning into the customers' room of his brokers. The market was long since closed; he was alone in a room of vacant chairs save for several clerks casting up the final quotations, and an old man sweeping scraps and cigarette butts into a central pile. The translux was dark, but a ticker still clicked out its story of'bid-and asked'; no one watched it as its yellow ribbon flowed endlessly into a waste-basket. Edmond walked over to the far end of the room, where a smaller board carried the Curb quotations. A casual glance was sufficient; Stoddard & Co. had closed just below twenty, for a fractional loss from the preceding day. He stood for a few moments recapitulating his readily available resources—he found no need ever for written accounts—and walked over to the desk, to a clerk who had handled his occasional previous transactions. He nodded as the man greeted him by name.

'You may buy me five thousand Stoddard at twenty,' he said.

'Five thousand, Mr. Hall? Do you think it advisable to speculate for that amount? Stoddard's only an independent, you know.'

'I am not speculating,' said Edmond.

'But the company has never paid a dividend.'

'I require the stock for a particular reason.'

The clerk scribbled on a blank order: '5000 Sdd. @ 20 O.B., N.Y. Curb,' and passed it to him. He signed in his accustomed precise script.

'You realize, of course, that we cannot margin this stock, being on the Curb, and poor bank collateral.'

'Of course,' said Edmond. 'I will provide sufficient security.' So he departed.