Chapter 3

It takes a man a long time to learn all the lessons of all his mistakes. They say there are two sides to everything. But there is only one side to the stock market; and it is not the bull side or the bear side, but the right side. It took me longer to get that general principle fixed firmly in my mind than it did most of the more technical phases of the game of stock speculation.

It takes a person a long time to learn all the lessons from all their mistakes. People say there are two sides to everything. But there is only one side to the stock market. It is not the bull side or the bear side, but the right side. It took me longer to firmly grasp that general principle than most of the more technical aspects of stock speculation.

I have heard of people who amuse themselves conducting imaginary operations in the stock market to prove with imaginary dollars how right they are. Sometimes these ghost gamblers make millions. It is very easy to be a plunger that way. It is like the old story of the man who was going to fight a duel the next day.

I have heard of people who amuse themselves by making imaginary stock market trades. They use imaginary dollars to prove how right they are. Sometimes these ghost gamblers make millions. It is easy to take big risks that way. It reminds me of the old story about a man who was going to fight a duel the next day.

His second asked him, “Are you a good shot?”

His second asked him, “Are you a good shot?”

“Well,” said the duelist, “I can snap the stem of a wineglass at twenty paces,” and he looked modest.

“Well,” said the duelist, “I can break the stem of a wineglass from twenty paces away.” He looked modest.

“That’s all very well,” said the unimpressed second. “But can you snap the stem of the wineglass while the wineglass is pointing a loaded pistol straight at your heart?”

“That’s all very well,” said the unimpressed second. “But can you snap the stem of the wineglass while it points a loaded pistol straight at your heart?”

With me I must back my opinions with my money. My losses have taught me that I must not begin to advance until I am sure I shall not have to retreat. But if I cannot advance I do not move at all. I do not mean by this that a man should not limit his losses when he is wrong. He should. But that should not breed indecision. All my life I have made mistakes, but in losing money I have gained experience and accumulated a lot of valuable don’ts. I have been flat broke several times, but my loss has never been a total loss. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be here now. I always knew I would have another chance and that I would not make the same mistake a second time. I believed in myself.

In my case, I have to back my opinions with my money. My losses have taught me not to start advancing until I’m sure I won’t have to retreat. But if I can’t advance, I don’t move at all. I don’t mean by this that a man shouldn’t limit his losses when he is wrong. He should. But that shouldn’t breed indecision. All my life I have made mistakes. But in losing money I have gained experience and piled up a lot of valuable don’ts. I have been flat broke several times, but my losses have never been a total loss. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be here now. I always knew I would get another chance and that I wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. I believed in myself.

A man must believe in himself and his judgment if he expects to make a living at this game. That is why I don’t believe in tips. If I buy stocks on Smith’s tip I must sell those same stocks on Smith’s tip. I am depending on him. Suppose Smith is away on a holiday when the selling time comes around? No, sir, nobody can make big money on what someone else tells him to do. I know from experience that nobody can give me a tip or a series of tips that will make more money for me than my own judgment. It took me five years to learn to play the game intelligently enough to make big money when I was right.

A person has to believe in themselves and their judgment to make a living at this game. That is why I don’t believe in tips. If I buy stocks on Smith’s tip, I have to sell those same stocks on Smith’s tip. I depend on him. What if Smith is away on vacation when it’s time to sell? No, sir, nobody can make big money by doing what someone else tells them to do. I know from experience that no tip or series of tips can make me more money than my own judgment. It took me five years to learn to play the game well enough to make big money when I was right.

I didn’t have as many interesting experiences as you might imagine. I mean, the process of learning how to speculate does not seem very dramatic at this distance. I went broke several times, and that is never pleasant, but the way I lost money is the way everybody loses money who loses money in Wall Street. Speculation is a hard and trying business, and a speculator must be on the job all the time or he’ll soon have no job to be on.

I didn’t have as many interesting experiences as you might think. Looking back, learning to speculate doesn’t seem very dramatic. I went broke several times, and going broke is never pleasant. But I lost money the same way everyone who loses money on Wall Street does. Speculation is hard, demanding work. A speculator has to stay on the job all the time, or soon there won’t be a job left.

My task, as I should have known after my early reverses at Fullerton’s, was very simple: To look at speculation from another angle. But I didn’t know that there was much more to the game than I could possibly learn in the bucket shops. There I thought I was beating the game when in reality I was only beating the shop. At the same time the tape-reading ability that trading in bucket-shops developed in me and the training of my memory have been extremely valuable. Both of these things came easy to me. I owe my early success as a trader to them and not to my brains or knowledge, because my mind was untrained and my ignorance was colossal. The game taught me the game. And it didn’t spare the rod while teaching.

My task was very simple: to look at speculation from another angle. I should have realized that after my early losses at Fullerton’s. But I didn’t know there was much more to the game than I could possibly learn in the bucket shops. There, I thought I was beating the game, when I was really only beating the shop. At the same time, trading in bucket shops developed my ability to read the tape and trained my memory. Both skills have been extremely valuable, and both came easily to me. I owe my early success as a trader to them, not to my brains or knowledge. My mind was untrained, and my ignorance was colossal. The game taught me the game. And it didn’t spare the rod while teaching me.

I remember my very first day in New York. I told you how the bucket shops, by refusing to take my business, drove me to seek a reputable commission house. One of the boys in the office where I got my first job was working for Harding Brothers, members of the New York Stock Exchange. I arrived in this city in the morning, and before one o’clock that same day I had opened an account with the firm and was ready to trade.

I remember my very first day in New York. I told you how the bucket shops refused my business, forcing me to find a reputable brokerage firm. One of the boys at the office where I got my first job worked for Harding Brothers. The firm was a member of the New York Stock Exchange. I arrived in New York that morning. Before one o’clock, I had opened an account with Harding Brothers and was ready to trade.

I didn’t explain to you how natural it was for me to trade there exactly as I had done in the bucket shops, where all I did was to bet on fluctuations and catch small but sure changes in prices. Nobody offered to point out the essential differences or set me right. If somebody had told me my method would not work I nevertheless would have tried it out to make sure for myself, for when I am wrong only one thing convinces me of it, and that is, to lose money. And I am only right when I make money. That is speculating.

I didn’t explain how natural it felt to trade there just as I had in the bucket shops. In those shops, all I did was bet on price movements and catch small but sure changes in prices. Nobody offered to point out the important differences or correct me. If someone had told me my method wouldn’t work, I would still have tried it to see for myself. When I’m wrong, only one thing convinces me of it: losing money. And I’m only right when I make money. That’s speculating.

They were having some pretty lively times those days and the market was very active. That always cheers up a fellow. I felt at home right away. There was the old familiar quotation board in front of me, talking a language that I had learned before I was fifteen years old. There was a boy doing exactly the same thing I used to do in the first office I ever worked in. There were the customers—same old bunch—looking at the board or standing by the ticket calling out the prices and talking about the market. The machinery was to all appearances the same machinery that I was used to. The atmosphere was the atmosphere I had breathed since I had made my first stock-market money—$3.12 in Burlington. The same kind of ticker and the same kind of traders, therefore the same kind of game. And remember, I was only twenty-two. I suppose I thought I knew the game from A to Z. Why shouldn’t I?

Things were pretty lively in those days, and the market was very active. That always cheers a fellow up. I felt at home right away. The familiar old quotation board was in front of me. It spoke a language I had learned before I was fifteen. A boy was doing exactly what I used to do in the first office I ever worked in. There were the customers, the same old crowd. They watched the board or stood by the ticker, calling out prices and talking about the market. As far as I could tell, the machinery was the same as what I was used to. The atmosphere was one I had breathed since I made my first stock-market money, $3.12 in Burlington. It was the same kind of ticker and the same kind of traders, so it was the same kind of game. And remember, I was only twenty-two. I suppose I thought I knew the game from A to Z. Why shouldn’t I?

I watched the board and saw something that looked good to me. It was behaving right. I bought a hundred at 84. I got out at 85 in less than a half hour. Then I saw something else I liked, and I did the same thing; took three-quarters of a point net within a very short time. I began well, didn’t I?

I watched the stock board and saw something that looked good to me. It was behaving the way I wanted. I bought a hundred shares at 84 and sold them at 85 less than half an hour later. Then I saw something else I liked and did the same thing. I made a net profit of three-quarters of a point in very little time. I got off to a good start, didn’t I?

Now mark this: On that, my first day as a customer of a reputable Stock Exchange house, and only two hours of it at that, I traded in eleven hundred shares of stock, jumping in and out. And the net result of the day’s operations was that I lost exactly eleven hundred dollars. That is to say, on my first attempt, nearly one-half of my stake went up the flue. And remember, some of the trades showed me a profit. But I quit eleven hundred dollars minus for the day.

Now pay attention to this: On my first day as a customer of a reputable Stock Exchange firm, I traded 1,100 shares, jumping in and out. I did all that in just two hours. By the end of the day, I had lost exactly $1,100. In other words, on my first attempt, I lost nearly half my stake. And remember, I made a profit on some of those trades. But I still ended the day $1,100 down.

It didn’t worry me, because I couldn’t see where there was anything wrong with me. My moves, also, were right enough, and if I had been trading in the old Cosmopolitan shop I’d have broken better than even. That the machine wasn’t as it ought to be, my eleven hundred vanished dollars plainly told me. But as long as the machinist was all right there was no need to stew. Ignorance at twenty-two isn’t a structural defect.

It didn’t worry me because I couldn’t see anything wrong with myself. My trades were sound enough, too. If I’d been trading at the old Cosmopolitan shop, I’d have made a profit. My missing eleven hundred dollars made it clear that the machine wasn’t working as it should. But as long as the machinist was all right, there was no need to worry. Being ignorant at twenty-two isn’t a structural defect.

After a few days I said to myself, “I can’t trade this way here. The ticker doesn’t help as it should!” But I let it go at that without getting down to bed rock. I kept it up, having good days and bad days, until I was cleaned out. I went to old Fullerton and got him to stake me to five hundred dollars. And I came back from St. Louis, as I told you, with money I took out of the bucket shops there—a game I could always beat.

After a few days, I said to myself, “I can’t trade this way here. The ticker isn’t helping me the way it should!” But I left it at that without getting to the root of the problem. I kept trading, having good days and bad days, until I lost everything. I went to old Fullerton and got him to lend me five hundred dollars to trade with. And, as I told you, I came back from St. Louis with money I won from the bucket shops there. That was a game I could always beat.

I played more carefully and did better for a while. As soon as I was in easy circumstances I began to live pretty well. I made friends and had a good time. I was not quite twenty-three, remember; all alone in New York with easy money in my pockets and the belief in my heart that I was beginning to understand the new machine.

I traded more carefully and did better for a while. As soon as I was financially comfortable, I started living pretty well. I made friends and had a good time. Remember, I wasn't quite twenty-three. I was alone in New York, with easy money in my pockets. And I believed I was beginning to understand the new machine.

I was making allowances for the actual execution of my orders on the floor of the Exchange, and moving more cautiously. But I was still sticking to the tape—that is, I was still ignoring general principles; and as long as I did that I could not spot the exact trouble with my game.

I was accounting for how my orders were actually executed on the floor of the Exchange, and I was moving more cautiously. But I was still sticking to the tape. That meant I was still ignoring general principles. As long as I did that, I couldn't pinpoint what was wrong with my trading.

We ran into the big boom of 1901 and I made a great deal of money—that is, for a boy. You remember those times? The prosperity of the country was unprecedented. We not only ran into an era of industrial consolidations and combinations of capital that beat anything we had had up to that time, but the public went stock mad. In previous flush times, I have heard, Wall Street used to brag of two-hundred-and-fifty-thousand-share days, when securities of a par value of twenty-five million dollars changed hands. But in 1901 we had a three-million-share day. Everybody was making money. The steel crowd came to town, a horde of millionaires with no more regard for money than drunken sailors. The only game that satisfied them was the stock market. We had some of the biggest high rollers the Street ever saw: John W. Gates, of ‘Bet-you-a-million’ fame, and his friends, like John A. Drake, Loyal Smith, and the rest; the Reid-Leeds-Moore crowd, who sold part of their steel holdings and with the proceeds bought in the open market the actual majority of the stock of the great Rock Island system; and Schwab and Frick and Phipps and the Pittsburg coterie; to say nothing of scores of men who were lost in the shuffle but would have been called great plungers at any other time. A fellow could buy and sell all the stock there was. Keene made a market for the U.S. Steel shares. A broker sold one hundred thousand shares in a few minutes. A wonderful time! And there were some wonderful winnings. And no taxes to pay on stock sales! And no day of reckoning in sight.

Then came the great boom of 1901, and I made a lot of money. At least, it was a lot for a boy. Do you remember those days? The country was more prosperous than ever before. Industrial mergers and combinations of capital surpassed anything we had seen before. And the public went crazy for stocks. I’ve heard that in earlier boom times, Wall Street used to boast about days when 250,000 shares changed hands. Those securities had a face value of 25 million dollars. But in 1901, we had a day when three million shares changed hands. Everybody was making money. The steel crowd came to town, a horde of millionaires who cared no more about money than drunken sailors. The stock market was the only game that satisfied them. We had some of the biggest high rollers Wall Street had ever seen. There was John W. Gates, famous as ‘Bet-you-a-million,’ and his friends, including John A. Drake and Loyal Smith. Then there was the Reid-Leeds-Moore crowd. They sold some of their steel holdings and used the money to buy a majority of the great Rock Island system’s stock on the open market. There were also Schwab, Frick, Phipps, and the Pittsburg group. And there were dozens of men who got lost in the shuffle. At any other time, they would have been called great speculators. A fellow could buy and sell as much stock as he wanted. Keene made a market for U.S. Steel shares. One broker sold 100,000 shares in a few minutes. What a wonderful time! And there were some wonderful winnings. There were no taxes to pay on stock sales! And no day of reckoning in sight.

Of course, after a while, I heard a lot of calamity howling and the old stagers said everybody—except themselves—had gone crazy. But everybody except themselves was making money. I knew, of course, there must be a limit to the advances and an end to the crazy buying of A.O.T.—Any Old Thing—and I got bearish. But every time I sold I lost money, and if it hadn’t been that I ran darn quick I’d have lost a heap more. I looked for a break, but I was playing safe—making money when I bought and chipping it out when I sold short—so that I wasn’t profiting by the boom as much as you’d think when you consider how heavily I used to trade, even as a boy.

Of course, after a while, I heard a lot of warnings about disaster. The old hands said everyone but themselves had gone crazy. But everyone except the old hands was making money. I knew, of course, that the price increases had to stop somewhere. The crazy buying of A.O.T. (Any Old Thing) had to end too, and I became bearish. But every time I sold, I lost money. If I hadn’t gotten out darn quickly, I would have lost a lot more. I was expecting a market drop, but I played it safe. I made money when I bought and chipped away at those profits when I sold short. So I wasn’t making as much from the boom as you might expect, considering how heavily I used to trade, even as a boy.

There was one stock that I wasn’t short of, and that was Northern Pacific. My tape reading came in handy. I thought most stocks had been bought to a standstill, but Little Nipper behaved as if it were going still higher. We know now that both the common and the preferred were being steadily absorbed by the Kuhn-Loeb-Harriman combination. Well, I was long a thousand shares of Northern Pacific common, and held it against the advice of everybody in the office. When it got to about 110 I had thirty points profit, and I grabbed it. It made my balance at my brokers’ nearly fifty thousand dollars, the greatest amount of money I had been able to accumulate up to that time. It wasn’t so bad for a chap who had lost every cent trading in that selfsame office a few months before.

There was one stock I hadn’t sold short: Northern Pacific. My ability to read the ticker tape came in handy. I thought most stocks had been bought up as far as they could go, but Little Nipper acted as if it would climb higher. We now know that the Kuhn-Loeb-Harriman combination was steadily buying up both its common and preferred shares. Well, I owned a thousand shares of Northern Pacific common stock. Everyone in the office advised me to sell, but I held on. When the stock reached about 110, I had a profit of thirty points, and I took it. That brought my brokerage balance to nearly fifty thousand dollars. It was the most money I had ever managed to accumulate. Not bad for a fellow who had lost every cent trading in that same office a few months earlier.

If you remember, the Harriman crowd notified Morgan and Hill of their intention to be represented in the Burlington-Great Northern-Northern Pacific combination, and then the Morgan people at first instructed Keene to buy fifty thousand shares of N.P. to keep the control in their possession. I have heard that Keene told Robert Bacon to make the order one hundred and fifty thousand shares and the bankers did. At all events, Keene sent one of his brokers, Eddie Norton, into the N.P. crowd and he bought one hundred thousand shares of the stock. This was followed by another order, I think, of fifty thousand shares additional, and the famous corner followed. After the market closed on May 8, 1901, the whole world knew that a battle of financial giants was on. No two such combinations of capital had ever opposed each other in this country. Harriman against Morgan; an irresistible force meeting an immovable object.

If you remember, the Harriman group told Morgan and Hill that they intended to have a stake in the Burlington-Great Northern-Northern Pacific combination. At first, the Morgan people instructed Keene to buy fifty thousand shares of N.P. to keep control in their hands. I have heard that Keene told Robert Bacon to increase the order to one hundred and fifty thousand shares, and the bankers did. In any case, Keene sent one of his brokers, Eddie Norton, into the N.P. trading crowd. Norton bought one hundred thousand shares of the stock. I think another order followed for an additional fifty thousand shares, and then came the famous corner. After the market closed on May 8, 1901, the whole world knew that a battle between financial giants was underway. No two such combinations of capital had ever faced each other in this country. Harriman against Morgan: an irresistible force meeting an immovable object.

There I was on the morning of May ninth with nearly fifty thousand dollars in cash and no stocks. As I told you, I had been very bearish for some days, and here was my chance at last. I knew what would happen—an awful break and then some wonderful bargains. There would be a quick recovery and big profits—for those who had picked up the bargains. It didn’t take Sherlock Holmes to figure this out. We were going to have an opportunity to catch them coming and going, not only for big money but for sure money.

There I was on the morning of May ninth, with nearly fifty thousand dollars in cash and no stocks. As I told you, I had expected the market to fall for several days, and finally my chance had come. I knew what would happen. The market would plunge, and then there would be some wonderful bargains. A quick recovery would follow, bringing big profits to those who had picked up the bargains. It didn’t take Sherlock Holmes to figure that out. We were going to have a chance to make money on the way down and on the way up. And it wouldn’t just be big money. It would be sure money.

Everything happened as I had foreseen. I was dead right and—I lost every cent I had! I was wiped out by something that was unusual. If the unusual never happened there would be no difference in people and then there wouldn’t be any fun in life. The game would become merely a matter of addition and subtraction. It would make of us a race of bookkeepers with plodding minds. It’s the guessing that develops a man’s brain power. Just consider what you have to do to guess right.

Everything happened just as I had expected. I was completely right, and I lost every cent I had! Something unusual wiped me out. If unusual things never happened, people would all be the same, and life wouldn’t be any fun. The game would be nothing more than addition and subtraction. We would become a race of slow-thinking bookkeepers. Guessing is what develops a person’s brainpower. Just think about what you have to do to guess right.

The market fairly boiled, as I had expected. The transactions were enormous and the fluctuations unprecedented in extent. I put in a lot of selling orders at the market. When I saw the opening prices I had a fit, the breaks were so awful. My brokers were on the job. They were as competent and conscientious as any; but by the time they executed my orders the stocks had broken twenty points more. The tape was way behind the market and reports were slow in coming in by reason of the awful rush of business. When I found out that the stocks I had ordered sold when the tape said the price was, say, 100 and they got mine off at 80, making a total decline of thirty or forty points from the previous night’s close, it seemed to me that I was putting out shorts at a level that made the stocks I sold the very bargains I had planned to buy. The market was not going to drop right through to China. So I decided instantly to cover my shorts and go long.

The market was in an uproar, just as I had expected. Trading was enormous, and the price swings were greater than ever before. I placed a lot of sell orders at the market price. When I saw the opening prices, I nearly had a fit. The drops were that terrible. My brokers were hard at work. They were as competent and conscientious as any brokers. But by the time they filled my orders, the stocks had fallen another twenty points. The stock ticker was far behind the market, and reports were slow because of the awful rush of business. The ticker showed a price of, say, 100 when I ordered the stocks sold. I found out that my brokers had sold them at 80. That made a total drop of thirty or forty points from the previous night’s close. It seemed to me that I was selling stocks short at prices that made them the very bargains I had planned to buy. The market was not going to drop right through to China. So I decided at once to cover my short positions and buy stocks instead.

My brokers bought; not at the level that had made me turn, but at the prices prevailing in the Stock Exchange when their floor man got my orders. They paid an average of fifteen points more than I had figured on. A loss of thirty-five points in one day was more than anybody could stand.

My brokers bought, but not at the price that had made me change my mind. They bought at the prices on the Stock Exchange when their floor man received my orders. They paid an average of fifteen points more than I had expected. A loss of thirty-five points in one day was more than anyone could stand.

The ticker beat me by lagging so far behind the market. I was accustomed to regarding the tape as the best little friend I had because I bet according to what it told me. But this time the tape double-crossed me. The divergence between the printed and the actual prices undid me. It was the sublimation of my previous unsuccess, the selfsame thing that had beaten me before. It seems so obvious now that tape reading is not enough, irrespective of the brokers’ execution, that I wonder why I didn’t then see both my trouble and the remedy for it.

The ticker beat me because it lagged so far behind the market. I had always thought of the ticker tape as my best little friend because I bet based on what it told me. But this time the tape betrayed me. The gap between the printed prices and the actual prices ruined me. It was the ultimate version of my earlier failures, the very same thing that had beaten me before. Now it seems so obvious that reading the tape is not enough, regardless of how brokers execute trades. I wonder why I didn’t see both my problem and the solution back then.

I did worse than not see it; I kept on trading, in and out, regardless of the execution. You see, I never could trade with a limit. I must take my chances with the market. That is what I am trying to beat—the market, not the particular price. When I think I should sell, I sell. When I think stocks will go up, I buy. My adherence to that general principle of speculation saved me. To have traded at limited prices simply would have been my old bucket-shop method inefficiently adapted for use in a reputable commission broker’s office. I would never have learned to know what stock speculation is, but would have kept on betting on what a limited experience told me was a sure thing.

I did worse than miss it. I kept trading, buying and selling without regard to how my orders were executed. You see, I could never trade with a price limit. I had to take my chances with the market. The market is what I’m trying to beat, not a particular price. When I think I should sell, I sell. When I think stocks will go up, I buy. Sticking to that basic principle of speculation saved me. Trading with price limits would have been my old bucket-shop method, poorly adapted for a reputable commission broker’s office. I would never have learned what stock speculation is. Instead, I would have kept betting on what my limited experience told me was a sure thing.

Whenever I did try to limit the prices in order to minimize the disadvantages of trading at the market when the ticker lagged, I simply found that the market got away from me. This happened so often that I stopped trying. I can’t tell you how it came to take me so many years to learn that instead of placing piking bets on what the next few quotations were going to be, my game was to anticipate what was going to happen in a big way.

Whenever I tried to set price limits to reduce the risks of trading at market prices while the ticker lagged, the market simply moved away from me. This happened so often that I stopped trying. I can’t explain why it took me so many years to learn that my job was not to make small bets on the next few price quotes. It was to anticipate what would happen on a large scale.

After my May ninth mishap I plugged along, using a modified but still defective method. If I hadn’t made money some of the time I might have acquired market wisdom quicker. But I was making enough to enable me to live well. I liked friends and a good time. I was living down the Jersey Coast that summer, like hundreds of prosperous Wall Street men. My winnings were not quite enough to offset both my losses and my living expenses.

After my May ninth mishap, I kept going with a modified method that was still flawed. If I hadn't made money some of the time, I might have learned about the market faster. But I was making enough to live well. I enjoyed being with friends and having a good time. That summer, I was living on the Jersey Coast, like hundreds of prosperous Wall Street men. My winnings weren't quite enough to cover both my losses and my living expenses.

I didn’t keep on trading the way I did through stubbornness. I simply wasn’t able to state my own problem to myself, and, of course, it was utterly hopeless to try to solve it. I harp on this topic so much to show what I had to go through before I got to where I could really make money. My old shotgun and BB shot could not do the work of a high-power repeating rifle against big game.

I didn’t keep trading the way I did because I was stubborn. I simply couldn’t even put my problem into words. Of course, that made it hopeless to try to solve the problem. I keep coming back to this to show what I went through before I could really make money. My old shotgun and BB shot couldn’t do the work of a high-powered repeating rifle against big game.

Early that fall I not only was cleaned out again but I was so sick of the game I could no longer beat that I decided to leave New York and try something else some other place. I had been trading since my fourteenth year. I had made my first thousand dollars when I was a kid of fifteen, and my first ten thousand before I was twenty-one. I had made and lost a ten-thousand-dollar stake more than once. In New York I had made thousands and lost them. I got up to fifty thousand dollars and two days later that went. I had no other business and knew no other game. After several years I was back where I began. No—worse, for I had acquired habits and a style of living that required money; though that part didn’t bother me as much as being wrong so consistently.

Early that fall, I went broke again. I was so sick of a game I could no longer win that I decided to leave New York. I would try something else somewhere else. I had been trading since I was fourteen. I made my first thousand dollars at fifteen and my first ten thousand before I turned twenty-one. More than once, I had made ten thousand dollars and lost it. In New York, I had made thousands and lost them. I reached fifty thousand dollars, and two days later it was gone. I had no other business and knew no other game. After several years, I was back where I started. No, I was worse off. I had developed habits and a lifestyle that required money. But that bothered me less than being wrong so consistently.