From legendary short seller to god of American capital

Chapter 370 Returning to the betting shop means making a fortune.

Taylor's betting house was located at the other end of the same block.

Larry had already secretly scouted the hotel. Compared to the amiable Dolan just now, Taylor was an unreasonable guy, but also a more capable one.

First of all, this guy belongs to a local aristocratic family. It is said that his ancestors came here and occupied the first territory after the French withdrew. Now, Mr. Taylor not only has a large business here, but his gambling tentacles have even reached the entire Midwest. Moreover, Taylor also has an official position. He is the vice president of the famous St. Louis Business Promotion Association.

So while gambling dens in other cities hid like rats in the gutter, Taylor's gambling dens brazenly opened on the busiest streets, proving his close relationship with the local police. More importantly, Taylor also owned many billiard halls. In America at that time, owning a billiard hall was tantamount to admitting to running a gang business.

Larry led Matthew and Dunbar to the entrance of the Tyler Company's betting shop, only to find that it was already 12 o'clock, and the betting shop's fat sheep were grumbling as they poured out to eat.

"Let's eat first!" Larry said to the two of them, a little helplessly.

At noon, the three of them went into a tavern that also served lunch and found a table to sit down.

The business here was booming; the three waited for quite a while before a cook approached, dressed casually, and asked heartily, "Three handsome gentlemen! What would you like to eat?"

Larry was in a great mood because he made money today. He smiled and asked the cook, "We're visiting St. Louis from out of town and would like to try some local specialties."

"That's great! Our local cuisine is the most authentic. Here, I'll start with three servings of roasted pork chops, a classic dish from South St. Louis. It's half French, and half modified by locals."

The selected pork shoulder is seasoned with a secret tomato sauce, and then mixed with beer and sugar. After several hours of smoking, it develops the unique barbecue flavor of St. Louis!

"One serving, please! What else?" Larry's memories of his time in the great foodie country returned, and he felt an itch to eat barbecue after hearing about it twice.

"And there are also fried wontons—a snack made by deep-frying wontons, which is very common in St. Louis," the cook replied.

Larry knew that the wontons he was talking about were actually a type of stuffed pastry. Naturally, the baked wontons were more like baked buns.

"Another one, please—both of these are meaty and a bit greasy, so please bring some drinks to cleanse your palate!" Larry said with a smile.

The cook raised an eyebrow and said to Larry, "Young man, you've hit the nail on the head. St. Louis has a rich brewing tradition. Anheuser-Busch's brewery is located here; I think you could order some beer?"

Larry nodded, thinking that in a small town, having a bit of personality or a local beer brand is a good thing.

"Okay, let's each have a large glass!" Larry said with a smile.

Before long, the St. Louis specialties the cook had mentioned were served. The grilled wontons and pork chops, needless to say, looked delicious and smelled wonderful.

Even Dunbar, who doesn't usually like food, widened his eyes and couldn't help but grab the serving knife to cut pork chops for the three of them.

Larry's eyes widened at the beer the cook brought out. He had assumed the specialty beer of St. Louis was some obscure, unknown brand. But the "Iogo" engraved on the beer mug was Budweiser!

Larry was stunned. He never imagined that the product of Anheuser-Busch, which the cook had just mentioned in a tongue twister, was the Budweiser beer that would later become popular all over the world.

Larry gulped down several large mouthfuls of beer and found that the Budweiser tasted much better at that moment than the later batches! Perhaps it was because it was locally brewed...

The reason for local sales.

Despite repeatedly telling himself not to be too greedy, Larry still asked the cook, "How's the Budweiser business going?"

The news was very disappointing. Adolphus Bush, the founder of Budweiser, and his father-in-law Eberhard Anheuser-Busch co-founded the brand.

The son-in-law and father-in-law teamed up to run the company, and the American magic of creating a great brand worked again. The company was doing exceptionally well and was very profitable. Furthermore, the company had no plans to go public.

Larry understood; this was God preventing him from coveting Budweiser's shares.

At 1 p.m., Larry arrived at Taylor's company.

The trading hall here is not as large as Dolan's, but the decoration is more sophisticated and grander; similarly, the clientele here is dressed in more upscale clothing, clearly from a wealthier class.

Larry was secretly delighted, because if Taylor's business grew too big, there might be no limit to its growth potential.

The betting house was bustling with activity. Midwestern gentlemen sat upright in the hall, smoking pipes and staring intently at the changing numbers on the bid board.

"New York fire insurance, $8 and three-quarters!"

"Northern Pacific Railroad, $32 exactly —"

The young man standing in front of the price quotation machine pulled out a paper strip and shouted out the price to the audience.

Larry's hands were in his pockets, clutching the money he'd received from Dolan's company that morning, waiting for an opportunity.

The stock he was optimistic about was BRT, short for Brooklyn Rapid Transit Corporation, which would later become the New York subway operator. At this moment, its stock price was rising steadily due to rumors that "New York may build a subway."

Since arriving in St. Louis, Larry had been keeping an eye on this stock for a long time. Not only did he know that New York was indeed going to build a subway, but more importantly, the BRT stock price was a typical "concept stock" like those in later years. Moreover, it was an upgraded version of the "thunder and fire" concept stock.

The term "heavenly thunder" refers to opportunities arising from current events or industry shifts that attract attention; while "earthly fire" refers to stocks that genuinely have a basis for rising and are the true beneficiaries of concept speculation.

Although speculative trading based on hype is rare these days, it's clear that the current surge in BRT stock prices is due to insiders knowing that New York City is planning to acquire land for subway construction.

Larry observed the BRT's trajectory, nodded secretly, then walked to the trading window and called out to the teller, "I'd like to buy some BRT. What's the maximum I can buy here?"

"No upper limit!" the clerk said simply. "Buy as much as you want, as long as you have the money!"

Larry nodded and pulled a large wad of cash from his pocket. "I'll buy 1500 shares."

The teller took the money, handed it to the teller next to him to count, and then took a yellow transaction slip to fill out: "BRT, purchased 1500 shares at $64 — Name, oh, by the way, sir, what's your name?"

Larry was about to answer when he suddenly noticed a red-haired man in uniform glancing at him sideways from beside the counter.

"My name is Chauncey Billups!" Larry became wary, worried that his alias at Dolan Corporation, "Hokent," might be a problem.

It has already been designated as a prohibited word by betting companies —

Sure enough, upon hearing the name Billups, the red-haired man turned his head to the side.

The teller filled out the transaction form and handed it to Larry through the window.

Larry put it in his pocket, glanced at the red-haired man out of the corner of his eye, and quietly walked back to the price list.

Time ticked by, and BRT's stock remained stagnant throughout the dull afternoon. Larry wasn't in a hurry; he simply gripped the corner of his trading slip with both hands, his eyes glued to the price chart, his ears perked up, eager to hear the first good news from the price machine.

"BRT—$65!" Finally, the young man pulled out a slip of paper and shouted loudly to the other young men in front of the price list.

A chorus of sighs and exclamations suddenly filled the trading hall.

A man sitting behind Larry suddenly stood up and shouted in a local accent, "My God! This stock has already gone up 20 points in a row, is it going to go up any further?"

A man sitting in the front row of the price chart turned around, looked at him, and exclaimed, "Absolutely impossible! This stock is rising without any logic whatsoever! This is some damned market manipulator trying to lure us in—don't fall for it!"

The first person to speak may have originally intended to buy, but upon hearing someone say that, they bit their lip and sat back down.

Larry didn't speak. He glanced at the clock on the wall, which was pointing to 2 o'clock, and was assessing how strong this upward surge might be.

Generally speaking, even if insiders manipulate stocks, they still have to consider the inevitable issues in the market, such as time and selling pressure after a breakout. In this era, there are no messy indicators. When the stock price breaks out, retail investors watching will not think, "This is an inevitable rise determined by the golden cross of the indicators." Instead, they will look at the strength and time of the stock price breakout to decide whether to follow.

The problem is this: if BRT stock remains stagnant and accumulates shares around $65, it will almost certainly surge the next day.

The next day happened to be Saturday, and the stock market was only open for half a day. The time pressure and the magnitude of the price surge would attract a large number of speculative investors.

Larry thought to himself, if I were to manage the BRT, I would definitely push up the price over the weekend, open high on Monday, and then sell off my shares, thus getting a short-term windfall profit.

Clearly, the people operating the BRT this time weren't Larry, or their trading skills weren't particularly advanced, or they had already made a killing and were planning to take their profits on vacation over the weekend.

In short, five minutes later, BRT stock took a different turn than Larry had anticipated. "BRT, $66 and three-eighths!!" the clerk suddenly shouted.

The new price caused another stir in the trading hall. The customer who hadn't placed an order was furious, but now that the price had gone up, he was even more hesitant to go to the counter to buy.

Larry thought for two seconds, stood up, walked to the trading counter, took out the remaining $1300 from his pocket, and slapped it on the counter.

"BRT, I want to buy 1300 shares —"

The red-haired man next to the counter immediately turned to look at Larry, his brow furrowed. He asked, "Didn't you just buy 1500 shares?"

Larry looked up at him, feigning surprise, and asked, "Didn't you say there was no upper limit? What, can't I buy the same stock again?"

As they spoke, they began urging the teller to write up the transaction slip.

The teller routinely collected the money and began filling out the transaction form: "BRT, 1300 shares purchased at $66."

The red-haired man, his face still grim, leaned closer and asked, "Hey! Are you from the East? Have you been to any other betting companies before?"

"I'm from Chicago, what other betting company? Isn't this a stock brokerage firm?" Larry asked, feigning ignorance.

The red-haired man muttered something and then turned his head away.

Larry took the opportunity to pocket the transaction slip the teller handed him and then sat back down in his seat in the trading hall.

Now, Larry was almost 100% certain that Taylor's had also heard the news—Dolan's had just been dealt with by a gambling den's nemesis, so they were being very cautious. But since they had gotten the deal, there was no problem, because business here was so good that they wouldn't publicly renege on their debts and ruin their reputation.

By 2:30 p.m., the BRT's trajectory began to waver. It first climbed from $66 to $69, then turned back to its starting point, as if two enormous forces were pulling it back and forth.

Everyone was tense. In the trading hall, many who were bullish on BRT were filled with anxiety, wondering whether the next price would sweep them out or leave them with a large sum of dollars. Naturally, there were also those who were shorting the market, hoping for a sharp drop so they could make a fortune from the "market crash."

Even Larry was no exception; he deliberately sat near the price quotation machine and loudly read out the prices that had just been printed on the tape for the price quotation clerk!

Every time the ticker machine was activated by the New York Stock Exchange, 1000 kilometers away, everyone held their breath, listening intently to the heavenly mechanical clicking sound emanating from it.

Larry felt a long-lost adrenaline rush from the clicking of the quote machine—to be honest, he didn't care at all whether the $2800 would be a good profit or just become worthless paper.

He's fucking enjoying the thrill of this kind of deal right now!!

This is the most meaningful and exciting job in the world.

Larry rested his right hand on his knee, occasionally bending and straightening his fingers, his eyes fixed on the paper strip as it popped out with a snapping sound.

B, R, T!!!

When the price slip showed the name, Larry gasped, and everyone else who was interested in this hot stock held their breath.

"BRT — 71 and a quarter dollars!!"

Larry loudly announced the prices on the paper strips for everyone.

A chorus of gasps immediately erupted in the betting hall. Larry could even feel the urgent gazes surging from all directions, almost swallowing up the people in their corner—

While everyone cheered, Larry forced himself to calm down.

Wait! It's jumping up now—there are less than 20 minutes left before the market closes. Generally speaking, the market manipulators know that a late-day surge will trigger a rush to liquidate positions.

While we can't rule out the possibility of further increases, how much profit is enough? Taking out half now is a prudent choice.

Larry enjoys the process of sweating and getting warm, and doesn't really care about earning a few hundred dollars more.

With that thought in mind, Larry strode over to the counter and slammed the first order for 1500 shares onto it. "Close my position! I want to sell 1500 BRT shares—"

The teller behind the counter took the transaction slip and his face turned very ugly, because the purchase price on the slip was $64 and a quarter, making a profit of $7 per share!

One teller started slowly filling out the form, while the other had already turned around and started whispering to the people outside the counter.

Hearing the clerk's mutterings, the red-haired man who had been standing in front of the counter suddenly looked at Larry with a start, realizing he had made a big mistake.

"Hey!! Gambling enthusiast, is that you?" The red-haired man shoved the clerk aside, leaned close to the lattice, and whispered, "Are you trying to cause me trouble? You should go back to Dolan's! We don't want to do business with you."

Larry knew there was no need to pretend anymore. He glanced at him sideways, took a cigar from his pocket, and put it in his mouth. "I just liquidated my BRT account. What? You want to renege on your promise?!"

Larry turned and glanced at the crowd in the trading hall, his meaning clear. If the betting company tried to default on its debts, it would cause distrust among customers, leading to a run on the bank.

The red-haired man bit his lip, glanced at Larry, and suddenly said to the teller behind the counter, "Doesn't he still have 1300 shares? Settle those for him too!"

Larry frowned. "Wait—I haven't planned to close out those stocks yet."

The red-haired man turned to Larry, spitting out a few words through gritted teeth, "—Get out of here now, and never come back to do business here again. We won't do business with you, understand?"

The other party is really anxious.

Larry's eyes darted around, and a smile crept onto his lips—there was no need to push them too far; he had already made a considerable amount of money, after all, Taylor Company was a local power.

The tellers quickly calculated Larry's total profit on his 2800 shares—1500 shares, with a profit of $7 per share, totaling $10500.

US dollars: Another 1300 shares, with earnings of $4 and seven-eighths per share, for a total profit of $6337.5.

The two amounts together are $16837.5, plus the original margin of $2800 —

Total profit is $19637.5!

I've secured the initial capital for futures trading next week.

When the cashier from Taylor Company handed Larry a thick brown paper bag, the red-haired man's eyes were practically blazing with fury!

However, Larry was not worried. First, he was no longer alone, as two helpers were guarding outside. Second, Taylor's business was indeed large, and even if he made a little more money today, it was not an absurdly high profit that would kill anyone in the company's overall profit and loss.

The red-haired man is probably a hard-working laborer. If he suffers losses due to his own negligence, anyone with a modicum of intelligence would try to cover it up rather than actively expose it.

Larry opened the brown paper bag, looked inside, and then closed it.

The red-haired man glared at Larry, gritting his teeth as he said, "Get out of here! Otherwise, I won't let you go. This is my shame—"

Larry's face turned cold, and he said, "—You liquidated half of my stocks ahead of schedule, which is a disgrace to me, and I will remember it."

77

With that, Larry, with a brown paper bag tucked under his arm, turned and walked out of Taylor's betting shop.