Reborn in America, I am a legendary short seller on Wall Street.

Chapter 27 Client

At this moment, Larry's concern wasn't whether the stock would continue to fall, since the need for confirmation itself was a negative factor.

Regardless of whether the news is ultimately confirmed, it will negatively impact Continental Express's stock price.

The difference is that if the news is confirmed, the company's stock price will fall rapidly; while if the news is denied, the stock price will fall slowly on a weak foundation.

But Larry doesn't have time to make a deal!

Larry has already asked Mr. Potter for leave; he needs to accompany his parents to Holliston tomorrow to buy a farm. This is something his father has been thinking about for months, and it absolutely cannot be delayed. Besides, his mother wouldn't allow Larry to be absent.

But what if we don't go? Can we hold onto these three short positions until after the holiday and then close them out?

Larry shook his head. His understanding of Continental Express's stock was that it was a strong stock.

If a company's stock price is mispriced or experiences a significant short-term drop, company insiders will definitely step in to buy back shares and drive the stock price up.

Christmas falls on a Friday, a day of rest, so trading on Saturday morning is cancelled.

The next trading day is Monday, December 28th, which is too long and has too many variables.

No matter how you look at it, the best time to realize profits is indeed tomorrow, December 24th.

What should I do? Who can I ask for help?
As Larry frowned, he suddenly remembered the red-haired man with freckles, Logan.

I happened to ask Mr. Porter about Logan's background today.

Of course, Larry also had concerns. After all, this was a huge profit. What if the other party took the money and ran away?
Compared to Logan, who was guaranteed by Mr. Porter, Larry was more worried about his enormous profits disappearing.

After thinking about it for a long time, Larry figured out a principle.

Logan could certainly take his own money against his conscience.

But if using this money to test Logan proves he's trustworthy, then not only will I have more money, but I'll also have a friend I can rely on.

Yes, it's a gamble, a balance between two sides: your own $1200 and more profit, plus a trustworthy friend.

This is also a transaction with a betting company!

Should we do it or not?

After thinking it over for a long time, Larry made a tough decision. He thought to himself, "I won this money by betting five dollars anyway. If Logan takes it, I'll just consider it a lesson learned."

As long as I have some money left in my pocket, I'll be able to earn back that $1200 sooner or later.

After all, isn't it just gambling? I've been gambling all along.

You can't stop gambling just because you're afraid of losing money. What's the point of living then? You might as well just earn a $5 weekly wage!
At 3:30 p.m., the young men who had finished their work began to go home one after another.

Christmas is very close, and the front desk manager is turning a blind eye to it.

Larry put on his coat, touched the pistol he had been hiding on his person, and walked out of Paine Weber Securities Company, heading straight for the business district.

Since learning that Logan worked for Mr. Hemings, Larry already knew roughly where Logan worked.

Mr. Hemings runs a very large foreign trade company and a dozen general stores selling garden tools and hardware, with its headquarters located on Third Avenue in Boston's business district.

Crossing the Old North Church and the downtown square, Larry walked briskly to Third Avenue, where he could see a "first-generation Santa Claus" dressed in a red robe, top hat and white wig under Macy's.

Santa Claus is handing out flyers and candy to passersby.

Naturally, his outfit attracted the attention of the children.

Larry had no interest in watching; instead, he hurried past Santa Claus, weaving through the growing crowds on the shopping street, and entered a three-story brick hall.

Half of the hall was a grocery store—Mr. Hemings’ first grocery store; the other half consisted of several small offices where Mr. Hemings’ junior employees worked.

"Bang, bang, bang," Larry walked to the threshold and knocked on the open door.

A clerk at the typewriter noticed Larry, stood up, and greeted him, "Sir, is there anything I can help you with?"

“I’m looking for Logan! Logan Stone.” Larry smiled in response.

The clerk nodded, turned around and went into the inner room to say a few words. Soon after, Logan followed him out.

"Larry... what brings you here?" Logan was surprised to see this acquaintance here. Remembering that this man had lent him $20 not long ago, Logan's heart pounded, and he secretly prayed that Larry hadn't come to ask for the money back.

But in Larry's eyes, Logan was quite different. He was now wearing a light red alpaca wool coat and had grown taller than he had a few months ago, reaching a height of 1.8 meters in metric units.

Now that he was no longer shivering from the cold, Logan looked very energetic.

Larry waved to Logan, and the two walked together to the street outside the company.

"I need your help with something!" Larry said bluntly.

Logan breathed a sigh of relief when he heard Larry was asking for his help, not for a refund. But he still looked around, pointed to an alleyway in the distance, and lowered his voice, saying...
“Go there. It’s too close to the company. Sometimes Mr. Hemings in the third-floor office can see us.”

The two hurried a few more steps and arrived at the alley after the corner.

Larry chuckled and patted Logan's new clothes, praising, "That's more like it! A new coat makes you look much more energetic."

Logan blushed and smiled, saying, "My mom saw it too and said this coat suits me perfectly. Thank you, Larry, I wouldn't have had the chance to buy it if you hadn't lent me the money."

Larry waved his hand. "Let's not talk about that. It's only right for friends to help each other. Actually, I also have something I'd like to ask you for help with."

“What is it! Tell me, as long as I can do it.” Logan’s expression was firm.

Larry pulled three trading slips from the inside pocket of his coat and told Logan that he had shorted 600 shares of Continental Express.

Logan frowned as he listened. "You said you shorted 60 shares of what?"

"600 shares of Continental Express!"

"60 shares of Continental Express?" Logan asked again.

“Not 60 shares, but 600 shares,” Larry emphasized again.

At this moment, Logan's eyes turned to terror. He jumped back half a step as if he had seen a ghost, screaming at the top of his lungs, "My God!! 600 shares!! Damn it, that requires a full $600 in margin!!"

"Shh...don't be so loud!" Larry quickly put his finger to his lips, making a shushing gesture.

Larry was now very glad that the two of them were in an alley instead of on the main street, because the alley was quiet and no one could hear Logan's loud shouts.

Logan swallowed hard, his hands trembling as he took the three trading slips Larry handed him. He opened one of them with shaking hands and saw that the margin was $2 written next to the transaction price…

This means that the margin cost for three trades alone would be $1200.

Logan nearly fainted when he let out a "Oh!"

Larry could have imagined Logan's reaction; after all, it's easy for an ordinary person to feel dizzy upon seeing so much money.

In fact, he had thought about many things before, such as the fear that Logan might be tempted by the money and embezzle the deposit, or underreport the profits and keep some for himself.

But after much deliberation, Larry still felt that Logan was trustworthy because of his understanding of him, his red hair, and his straightforward, righteous, and corrective Celtic character.

Boston has a large population of Celts from Scotland and Ireland who crossed the ocean to come to the United States and initially took on the most menial and arduous jobs.

Soon after, a large number of the bullied Celts began to form gangs and participate in illegal industries.

Boston was one of the easiest cities for immigrants from Europe to land in, and there were also Celtic and Italian gangs in the city.

However, while Italian gangs are traditionally family-based, the Celtic gangs from Ireland are known for keeping their promises, preferring imprisonment to betraying their employers' information, and for killing entire families when they say they will.

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(End of this chapter)