The Greatest Works of Melville Davisson Post: 40+ Titles in One Edition. Melville Davisson Post
to breed the finer grades of stock. This the great landowners encouraged, and as the breeds grew better, the stock put upon the market from this region became more valuable, until at length the blue-grass region of West Virginia has become famous for its beef cattle, and for many years its cattle have been almost entirely purchased by the exporters for the Liverpool market.
So famous have the cattle of certain of these great landowners become, that each season the exporters send men to buy the stock, and not infrequently contract for it from year to year. Often a landowner, in whom the speculative spirit is rife, will buy up the cattle and make great contracts with the exporter, or he will form a partnership with an eastern commission merchant and ship with the market. The risks taken in this business are great, and often vast sums of money are made or lost in a week. It is a hazardous kind of gambling for the reason that great amounts are involved, and the slightest fall in the market will often result in big loss. With the shipping feature of this business have grown certain customs. Sometimes partnerships will be formed to continue for one or more weeks, and for the purpose of shipping. One drove of cattle or a number of droves; and when the shippers are well known the cattle are not paid for until the shipper returns from the market, it being presumed that he would not carry in bank sufficient money to pay for a large drove.
It is a business containing all the peril and excitement of the stock exchange, and all its fascinating hope of gain, as well as its dreaded possibility of utter ruin. Often in a grimy caboose at the end of a slow freight train is as true and fearless a devotee of Fortune, and as reckless a plunger as one would find in the pit on Wall Street, and not infrequently one with as vast plans and as heavy a stake in the play as his brother of the city. Yet to look at him—big, muscular, and uncouth—one would scarcely suspect that every week he was juggling with values ranging from ten to sixty thousand dollars.
One Monday morning of July, William Harris, a passenger on the through St. Louis express of the Baltimore & Ohio, said to the conductor that he desired to get off at Bridgeport, a small shipping station in this blue-grass region of West Virginia. The conductor answered that his train did not stop at this station, but that as the town was on a grade at the mouth of a tunnel he would slow up sufficiently for Mr. Harris to jump off if he desired to assume the risk. This Harris concluded to do, and accordingly, as the train ran by the long open platform beside the cattle pens, he swung himself down from the steps of the car and jumped. The platform was wet, and as Harris struck the planks his feet slipped and he would have fallen forward directly under the wheels of the coach had it not been that a big man standing near by sprang forward and dragged him back.
"You had a damned close call there, my friend," said the big man.
"Yes," said Harris, picking himself up, "you cut the undertaker out of a slight fee by your quick work."
The stranger turned sharply when he heard Harris's voice and grasped him by the hand. "Why, Billy," he said, "I did n't know it was you. What are you doing out here?"
"Well, well!" said Harris, shaking the man's hand vigorously, "there is a God in Israel sure. You are the very man I am looking for, Woodford."
Thomas Woodford was a powerfully built man—big, and muscular as an ox. He was about forty, a man of property, and a cattle-shipper known through the whole country as a daring speculator of almost phenomenal success. His plans were often gigantic, and his very rashness seemed to be the means by which good fortune heaped its favors upon him. He was in good humor this morning. The reports from the foreign markets were favorable, and indications seemed to insure the probability of a decidedly substantial advance at home. He put his big hand upon Harris's arm and fairly led him down the platform. "What is up, Billy?" he asked, lowering his voice.
"In my opinion," answered Harris, "the big combine among the exporters is going to burst and go up higher than Gilderoy's kite, and if we can get over to New York in time, we will have the world by the tail."
"Holy-head-of-the-church!" exclaimed the cattle-shipper, dropping his hands. "It will be every man for himself, and they will have to pay whatever we ask. But we must get over there this week. Next week everything that wears hoofs will be dumped into Jersey City. Come over to the hotel and let us hold a council of war."
The two men crossed the railroad track and entered the little eating-house which bore the high-sounding and euphonious title of "Hotel Holloway." They went directly up the steps and into a small room in the front of the building overlooking the railroad. Here Woodford locked the door, pulled off his coat, and took a large chew of tobacco. It was his way of preparing to wrestle with an emergency—a kind of mechanical means of forcing his faculties to a focus.
"Now, Billy," he said, "how is the best way to begin?"
Harris drew up his chair beside the bed on which his companion had seated himself.
"The situation is in this kind of shape," he began.
"The exporters have all the ships chartered and expect Ball & Holstein to furnish the cattle for next week's shipments. I believe that old Ball will kick out of the combine and tell the other exporters in the trust that they may go to the devil for their cattle. You know what kind of a panic this will cause. The space on the boats has been chartered and paid for, and it would be a great loss to let it stand empty. Nor could they ship the common stock on the market. All these men have foreign contracts, made in advance and calling for certain heavy grades of stock, and they are under contract to furnish a certain specified number of bullocks each week. They formed the combine in order to avoid difficulties, and have depended on a pool of all the stock contracted for by the several firms, out of which they could fill their boats when the supply should happen to be short or the market temporarily high. The foreign market is rising, and the old man is dead sure to hold on to the good thing in his clutches. I was so firmly convinced that the combine was going to pieces that I at once jumped on the first train west and hurried here to see you. The exporters must fill their contracts no matter what happens. If old Ball kicks over, as he is sure to do, the market will sail against the sky. We will have them on the hip if we can get the export cattle into New York, but we have no time to lose. These cattle must be bought to-day, and carred here to-morrow. Do you understand me?"
"Yes," said the cattle-shipper, striking his clenched right hand into the palm of his left. "It is going to be quick work, but we can do it or my name is not Woodford."
"We must have at least twelve carloads of big export cattle," continued Harris. "Not one to weigh less than sixteen hundred pounds. They must be good. Now, where can you get them quickest?"
"Well," answered the shipper, thoughtfully, "old Ralph Izzard has the best drove, but he wants five cents for them, and that is steep, too steep."
"No," said Harris, "that is all right if they are good. We have no time to run over the country to hunt them up. If these are the right kind we will not stand on his price."
"You can stake your soul on them being the right kind, Billy," answered the cattle-shipper enthusiastically. "Izzard picked them out of a drove of at least a thousand last fall, and he has looked after the brutes and pampered them like pet cats. They will go over sixteen hundred, every one of them, and they are as fat as hogs and as broad on the backs as a bed. I could slip out to his place and buy them to-night and have them here in time to car to-morrow, if you think we can give the old man his price."
"They will bring six and a half in New York, and go like hot cakes," said Harris, "but you will have to get out of this quick or you may run into a crowd of buyers from Baltimore."
"All right, Billy," said the cattle-shipper, rising and pulling on his coat, "I will tackle the old man to-night. We had better go to Clarksburg, and there you can lay low, and can come up to-morrow on the freight that stops here for the cattle. I will go out to Izzard's from there, and drive here by noon to-morrow. The accommodation will be along in about a half hour. I will go down and order the cars."
"Wait a moment, Woodford," said Harris, "we ought to have some written agreement about this business."
"What is the use?" answered the shipper. "We will go in even on it, but if you want to fix up a little contract, go ahead, and I will sign it. By the way, old Izzard is a little closer than most anybody else; we may have