Let it not be supposed, however, that the book maker, or his confederates who stand in with him, are to be contented with a fifteen per cent. upon the money that passes through the pool book. On the contrary, he is the most expert and successful of all the gamblers who “play the races.” He is generally the only one of this nefarious outfit who receives a genuine and reliable “tip.” His intimate relations with the jockeys, stablemen and all the habitues of the training stables and racing grounds, are such that he is generally able to pick out a winner, and to discount the results of a race in advance. Thus assured he skillfully sends out his touts to give “tips” that will bring the most grist to his mill, that is to say, to industriously disseminate the belief that that horse will win, which he knows has no chance of success. Under this influence the amateur sport, and the average patron of the racing ground or pool-room, will generally plunge largely on the horse they imagine is to bring them a rich booty, while the pool-seller looks on complacently, knowing that all the money in the strong box belongs to him as surely as if the race had been already run.

The methods employed by these pool-room experts are of the most ingenious and daring order. For instance, at a race in St. Louis recently, the book maker had a secret wire brought into his pool-room, by which he received the actual result several seconds sooner than the news sent by the public wire which supplied the official record. In these few brief seconds of opportunity, and in the intense excitement always prevailing at this point, he was enabled to pocket thousands by “betting on a sure thing.” In short there is no device nor subterfuge, nor daring rascality of any description, to which he will not bend the most astute cunning and the greatest energy in order to extend his thieving operations upon the pockets of those innocent pigeons who lend themselves to be plucked under the miserable and baseless delusion that the pool-room is run “on the square” and that he is getting even a gambler’s chance in the unequal contest with the skillful and audacious knavery with which he is led to contend. Indeed, it is remarkable that men of courage, of resources, of acute perception, of tireless energy, of a self poise that never fails, and an activity of intellect equal to any emergency, as most of these successful sharpers are, should not have preferred to bring their talents to bear upon honorable and lawful occupations in which they could not fail to apply those qualities to the greatest advantage.

In every pool room, amid the conglomeration of representatives of “queer” industries always there to be found, is invariably a liberal sprinkling of “cappers” or “touts.” These are the lowest and most contemptible of all the instrumentalities employed by the turf sharp, and the most dangerous because they always do their work in the guise of pretended friendship, and under the basest kind of betrayal of confidence. The lowest kind of a bunko steerer is a gentleman by comparison with this most contemptible of all the crawling things that infest this footstool. We have given some insight into the character of his operations. Let it be remembered that every tout is in the employ of the book maker; that every man who offers another a “tip” on a race-course or at a pool room is a “tout,” beyond any peradventure, and be certain that his frank and apparently generous and off-handed advances are but in reality the means by which he intends to aid in the operation of picking your pocket. He is a liar by instinct, by choice and by occupation, and no matter how engaging his manners, or however plausible his representations, you may safely set him down as a thief, and deal with him accordingly. His very approach is an insult to the intelligence of every man whom he seeks to “play for a sucker.”

The amount of money abstracted from the business industries, and incomes of the people, mainly of the cities, of the United States, is simply something appalling in its magnitude. In all the great centers of population in the United States: New York, Chicago, Philadelphia, Boston, St. Louis, Cincinnati, Louisville, Kansas City, Denver, New Orleans and San Francisco, the depredations of the gambler will be found to run into the millions in each case. In Chicago and New York it is impossible to make any estimate. The actual truth, if it could be revealed, would no doubt be deemed incredible. One fact, however, that is definitely ascertained, will give some idea of the magnitude of this crime against society, in the western metropolis. At the Fall meeting at Washington Park, in 1889, forty-two gamblers paid to the track authorities, $100 each per day for the term of twenty-four days, the duration of the meeting. That amounted to $100,800. In addition to that they had to pay for the most expensive kind of living at the highest-priced hotels; and had to pay for “police protection,” touters, cappers and hangers-on, salaries that professional men would envy, and had to make high-rollers’ profits. Altogether, there cannot be a question that these sharpers, for the privilege for which they paid over $100,000, must have taken away out of the city, in the neighborhood of half a million of dollars for this one meeting alone. This would represent at a fair computation $2,000,000 for the year, without taking into account the enormous amount constantly being drained from the community by the other gambling operations.

In addition to these features—which certainly those responsible for the social, moral and material welfare of the community do not seem to realize—it is to be remembered that when the race-meeting has closed, when the principal thieves with their robber retainers have departed for the scene of their next activity, and good people heave a sigh of relief that their boys or their clerks or their students are now no longer in danger of this temptation, their deadly influence still remains. While the races, for instance, are progressing in St. Louis, the pool-rooms, the billiard rooms and saloons, by use of the telegraph, continue to keep alive the taint of turf gambling, to keep the temptation to our youth ever present, and to make easy for all, the deadly descent to Avernus. Here, too, the work of the skin gambler, the jackal of his tribe, is made particularly easy. Fraternities of these fragrant personalities are organized, who between the different cities keep each other “posted” on the true tips on races, and give the very latest and most reliable information as to the probabilities of each race. The dupe bets upon the regular “blackboard” reports; the scoundrel upon a dead certainty. The robber rejoices in his good fortune; the victim curses his “bad luck,” perhaps, but has no suspicion that he has not had an even chance upon the board.

If any young man, or old man for that matter, who is in the least degree fastidious upon the point of keeping decent company, will but get some one acquainted with the character of pool-room assemblies, or take the trouble to exercise judgment for himself, he will learn or perceive that which will make him take himself speedily away. Here all the proper distinctions of society are violated, and the lawyer or doctor, lost by his infatuation to self-respect, may be observed taking “pointers” from a ragged and ill-smelling stable-boy. The banker, with the cashier of his competitor, are jostling with a frowsy bootblack; the business man discusses the board with the pickpocket; the thief and gambler is everywhere. The odor of state prison associations is upon many. The pimp, the bummer, the thug, the midnight housebreaker and the daylight lawbreaker, all mingle in the throng with the representatives of business probity and youthful innocence—with the prop and stay of one family, and with the hope and pride of another household. If it were not for the fascination that centers upon the betting board and renders decency oblivious to its shameful surroundings, no man of sense, with a spark of manhood or self respect about him, could, for a moment endure the contamination of surroundings so degrading. The scene is one of the most repulsive that any pure mind could conceive. It is the monstrous anomaly presented of the vesture of life with warp of virtue and woof of vice.

While many of the evil influences which are organized in the pool-room to defraud, deceive and destroy, are common to the race-track, yet the latter possesses nefarious peculiarities whose features ought to be well scanned, and therefore carefully avoided. At the race track, while the vile types of character which infest the pool-room are to some extent visible, they have not the same freedom of communication nor familiarity with the visitor to the track as is the case in the pool-room. In the pure outer air they shrink from intrusion upon respectability, and are content to flock by themselves. Here it is, the well-dressed thief, the polite and polished tout, the sanctimonious sharper, and the keen and experienced shark, who carry on the operation of fleecing the victims of turf rapacity are to be found. The scene in itself is far from repulsive, as is the case with the pool-room. On the contrary, it is a kaleidoscopic view of human society of every decent grade seen in its most attractive form. Costly equipages, daintily dressed fair ladies, bright colors, the beauty of flowers and the fragrance of delicate perfume; men, each one dressed, like McGinty, in his best suit of clothes, moving hither and thither in constant bustle, flutter and excitement, the busy hum of multitudes of voices and the general and exhilarating impression of life, movement and animation, combine to give the race-course attractions that are apt to obscure its deadly menace to honor, honesty and morality. Looking beneath this fair exterior, however, we find a very charnel house, reeking foul with infamy and fraud.

Here we may observe the lady of fashion in her costly equipage stopping to despatch her coachman for a card, and to take instructions for a tip. Of course he gets the tip, for he knows where to go for it. He and the tout are pals, and after the lady shall have lost every one of her eager and confident ventures and leaves the ground with pocket-book light but disappointment heavy in her heart, we may get a glimpse at the decorous coachee as he smiles softly to himself, and thinks upon the liberal portion of his mistress’ money he will have to divide with the tout in the evening. Ladies who visit the race-track to bet are carefully “spotted;” their servants are suborned, and they become the very easiest and silliest victims that fall to the lot of the “fancy.”

A common swindle in the crowd at the pool-seller’s stand at the track is the eager and excited young man who is victimized by a brace of sharpers. They have watched him and sized him up; they recognize when he is ripe enough to pick and then dexterously perform the operation of gathering him in. “Bet two to one on Susie G.,” cries Mr. Verdant Green, after a short argument with his elbow neighbor. “I’ll take you,” retorts the other, counting out his bills, “we’ll put the money into the hands of this gentleman here.” Benevolent-looking rascal, who has been abstractedly looking the other way, is appealed to and consents to be the depository of the wagers. The race is on; excitement becomes intense; everybody is straining eyes upon the flying horses. Not so the confidential stake-holder and his friend. They have gone from the gaze of Mr. Verdant Green—“though lost to sight, to memory dear.” If they could be found ten minutes later they might be discovered in the act of dividing an easily earned “swag.” This kind of swindle is as old as the flood. But all do not read the newspapers, and, as the gams say, “there’s a sucker born every minute.” That is a cardinal doctrine with them, and they ought to believe in it firmly, for does not their experience seem to prove it? No one, however, who has read this book, whether he read newspapers or not, will be liable to be deceived by this simple fraud.

One of the very worst features that attend race meetings is the unavoidable presence, at every convenient point of proximity to the race track, and lining every approach and avenue to the central scene, of all the known skin games of which the reader of this book will have been afforded ample knowledge elsewhere. Here assemble the three-card-monte swindler, the shell-game shark, the wheel of fortune fakir, and in short every conceivable representative of the smaller forms of swindling by means of the practice of gambling. They cannot, it is true, get into the enclosure. Race-track representatives draw the line of its virtue there. True they are not a whit worse than their brethren inside, who play for higher game. Both are merely plundering honest people by means of gambling schemes. It is the case of the pot saying to the kettle, “Keep off; I fear you may besmut me.” But the shell game man and his confreres do not hanker to be within the sacred high fence. They can catch their kind of suckers just as well outside, as they come and go; and many a confiding innocent beside, who has not enough money to buy a seat on the grand stand, nor to make a bet on the race, has yet sufficient to lose by a turn of the wheel. They are not particular, bless you, these smaller knaves. They do not want the earth. So long as they get all the sucker has got, even though it be but a little, they are content.

Again, there are cases where the winning horse actually has become sick; so sick that he has had to be scratched, or been compelled to fail in even getting a “place,” and that even where the stable has been watched night and day by a man with a blunderbuss. Of course everybody knows, including the dupes who have laid their money on him, that the favorite has been “dosed.” Some suspect that the watcher may have been bribed by the enemy, and permitted his care to be drugged for a fee. It might be; but the odds are in favor of his innocence. The experienced mind will look for a larger villain. There was a big sum of money on the race: it would be an easy matter for the owner of the horse winning to scratch him, or allow him to be beaten, and win more than was on the board and in the stakes. Horses have been sold out by their owners, on American and English race courses, and will be again, so long as knavery lasts in the form of gambling on horse racing. And when you observe that said owner is particularly tumultuous and volcanic in the expression of his wrath, and encrimsons the surrounding air with richly embroidered profanity, then you may be tolerably sure that you might reach the secret of the case if you could only get deep down into his trousers pockets.

In no other human enterprise is it more frequently demonstrated that “the race is not always to the swift.” It is a not uncommon practice for owners of a horse by confederacy with book makers, and other necessary aids, to groom a horse to win a heavy stake upon a dead certainty. First the horse and his capabilities are discovered. Then he is ridden in one or two races to lose. He becomes regarded as a permanent tail-ender. His appearance on the blackboard is greeted with derision. Reports are circulated that the horse is “sick,” particularly just before the event for which he is being held back. He makes his appearance when his time has come. Nobody will bet on him. The wildest sort of odds against him are cheerfully offered, and as quietly gathered in by the confederates of the owner and pool-seller. He takes the field and comes in an easy winner in such a handsome manner that old sports who were not in the combine, recognize, with words not loud but deep, as they go down into their pockets to settle, that they have been “sold again.” In this as in all other ways the average bettor or amateur gambler stands no show. He has no chance, though he may think he has. He is simply food for sharks.

As the “king maker” to the claimant to the thrones of the days of old, so the jockey to the horse race, and to the high hopes which rest upon the particular animal in his charge. The jockey is generally a kind of person who would be a stable-boy, a boot-black or a street sweeper, if he were not a jockey. Being a jockey, he is clothed in purple and fine linen, and gets his $10,000 or $12,000 per year—which would pay salaries for two ministers of the gospel of the very first water, or of at least four superintendents of schools. Is the jockey paid this magnificent salary for being a jockey? Not at all; nor is he paid for being honest. It is for being honest to his employer in carrying out his wishes in regard to the horse, as it may happen to be more profitable to the owner to win or lose. Do jockeys ever sell a race? Probably: sometimes in obedience to the orders of the owner, and occasionally on his own account. In the latter event it is generally his last race; but he can afford to retire to an opulent private life, for his reward is exceedingly liberal. Who shall tell when the jockey is riding honestly or dishonestly? He alone knows the minutest shade of the temper and capacity of the horse. Half a nose may lose a race when he has seemed to have done his best. And yet he might have won by a neck had he so elected. The plain amateur, everyday sport who is slated to be swindled in any case, as well as the anxious owner, the vendor of pools, and the maker of books, are all at the mercy of the discretion of the jockey. Hence the frills upon his raiment; hence a salary so large that it is concluded that life can offer him no other temptations. In very many instances, indeed, the jockey is the instrument through whom the thousands of dupes are sold, the owner sometimes directing the robbery, and on other occasions being included in the list of goods delivered. The high-salaried jockey is a part of an evil system. Take away the gambling feature from horse racing, and let us have honest sport, and the jockey would be glad indeed to ride “square” for a dollar a day and found. And there will be no honest competitions of speed on the race-track until the immoral, rascally and thieving element of betting on the result, or gambling, as you may be pleased to term it, has been abolished, either by legal enactment, by public opinion, or by repudiation on the part of the people who now patronize it—in which latter case, the victims refusing to come to the fold to be sheared as they do now, the evil would die for want of pockets to pick.

In the “handicap” race lies one of the great opportunities for rascality on the race track. There is no doubt that some of the events which offer the largest prizes, in which the public takes the deepest interest, and which seem on the surface to be about the fairest tests of all for a square contest of speed, have become masterpieces of organized scoundrelism. The theory of the handicap is that all the horses are so exactly weighted that they start on a footing of perfect equality in the race, and that if it were possible for them all to cross in an exact line at the starting point, they would come under the wire nose to nose. Of course, to secure such an exact start is an impossibility, and the struggle is presumed to be a supreme effort on the part of each jockey to make up the space lost at the start. It makes a grand and thrilling spectacle to witness a handicap race: but it is generally a delusion. They are just going through the motions, and any gentlemen in the combination can tell you when the “start” is declared which horse is destined to come out first at the finish. In cases of crooked races of this kind, the horse is generally selected a season in advance and a combination between certain leading horsemen is made to allow him to be the winner and divide stakes and betting winnings. The stable from which this “dark horse” comes will have generally two or three others in the field, and the selected winner is ridden falsely for a whole season, and given a bad record, so as to give him so ridiculously light a weight at the handicap race that his winning is a comparative certainty. To be sure, other elements of fitness to win the race have been carefully ascertained, and his exact speed and staying qualities are well known to those interested. When he goes into the field a certain winner, he gets lightest weights and the longest odds to be had, and when he comes under the wire he is worth his weight in gold to his owner or managers. Sometimes it happens that there are two cliques working in the dark in this fashion, and then a division has to be made. A private meeting between the two selected horses is had, and this is a race for keeps and in which the best horse wins. Then both parties form a common syndicate, and labor to double the anticipated profits. Being leaders of the turf, they have ample opportunity to gull the public. The sporting papers, or sporting editors are “tipped” to systematically “bear” the winning horse, and to “write up” other horses which appear to give the public a fair chance for winning, or at least an even chance in betting upon the few favorites which have been selected for “stool pigeons,” which are “bulled,” in the estimation of the public without stint. When it comes to the test, the dark horse has a comparative walk-over; the syndicate reaps a golden harvest, and the public can divide the loss between the individual suckers who have been gulled. Sometimes it has happened that a genuine dark horse has honestly won, and these schemers come to grief. But that is as rare as teeth in the mouth of a hen, and the fact remains, generally speaking, that in this as in every other department of betting on the events of the turf, the confiding public is swindled on a deliberate system by which the professional gambler could not lose if he chose, unless he were to conspire actively to attain that end. This, however, there is no fear of, for a more selfish, cold-blooded and rapacious breed of blood-hounds never pursued a defenceless prey.

The author of this work has traveled over most of the surface of the United States, and has set up the green tables in towns and cities in nearly every State in the Union, and in each and every instance he has been compelled to purchase official protection for his unlawful trade; making payments in some cases to mayors; sometimes to the chiefs of police or city marshals, and on other occasions to individual policemenpolicemen. In this way the authority that is invested with the duty of protecting society is suborned and prostituted to the vile end of extending official protection to the very crime which it is its sworn duty to exterminate. That this perversion of public authority is almost universal seems to be unquestionable. We have recently been furnished with a forcible example of this in the great city of Chicago, where it has been strikingly illustrated that when rogues fall out honest men sometimes get their own. For months in the western metropolis efforts had been made to compel the public authorities to the enforcement of the law regarding this vice. It was persistently denied by the local authorities that there was any gambling going on in Chicago, and this in the face of a general public knowledge to the contrary. In order to prove the hypocrisy of the position of the officers of the city government in this matter, a daily newspaper entered upon a crusade upon its own account. Private detectives were hired and raids constantly made for some weeks, resulting in many arrests, the seizure of a large quantity of gaming apparatus and its destruction in the court-rooms of the city. Yet, still the authorities refused to act and continued to ignore the prevalence of gambling rooms throughout the city, even after the press had given lists of names and full information upon which to proceed. It was publicly and very directly intimated that this alleged ignorance on the part of the city government was a matter of bargain and sale—that specific money payments were made by the criminals for immunity from the proper consequences of their criminal operations; that, in fact, the officials of a great corporation had been suborned to become accessory to the operations of the gamblers. One part of this nefarious understanding was that while the races at Washington Park were in progress the down-town pool-rooms should remain closed in order that the race-track swindlers might be enabled to make the most of their opportunities. With the same scrupulous fidelity which is said to characterize transactions between some other violators of the law, this agreement was carried out. Then followed another race meeting at the track of one Corrigan, a noted horseman on the West Side. Corrigan claimed the same privilege of shutting out the pool-room competition as had been extended to the Washington Park club.

The pool-room keepers refused to recognize any obligation of the kind. They claimed that their agreement with the city administration had been completed; that they could not afford to remain longer closed up, and that by reason of their payment of the assessments which had been regularly levied upon them by the representatives of the city administration, they were entitled to continue their business without molestation. Then Corrigan began a war upon them by the aid of a private detective organization, and the shameful fact that the gamblers had the protection of the police force and its management became apparent beyond dispute. Not only was this the case, but the officials who had hitherto placidly ignored general and widespread gambling in the center of the city, became the active and open allies of the city gamblers, and used their legal powers in an endeavor to punish Corrigan by making arrests at the race-track. Corrigan resorted to the courts for protection against this interference, and secured a bill of injunction restraining the Mayor and Chief of Police from interfering with book making at his track. In the bill filed to secure this injunction the whole disgraceful bargain between the representatives of the city’s police force and the crooks and gamblers was distinctly related, alleging a direct compact of corruption by which crime purchased a stipulated protection at the hands of those sworn to uphold and enforce the laws. There is little reason to doubt that this practice is not confined to Chicago. It exists everywhere. It calls for a remedy, because it is a dangerous and deadly menace to morality, and to the security and safety of society. An aroused public opinion is needed everywhere to offset this great evil, and it is one of the earnest purposes of this work that good people may be awakened to the sense of the danger that threatens the public welfare in this particular. The foundation of justice, the fountain of the law, are thus assailed with an unscrupulous boldness that would be incredible if the facts were not beyond dispute. It is impossible to conceive a graver danger to the best interests of the republic than this widespread pollution of the honor of the custodians of law and morality, and the instinct of self-preservation on the part of all the decent elements of society should point the way to a united effort to secure reform and redress.

Year by year the fever of gambling on the races increases in intensity and the range of its operations. Thousands upon thousands go to the races who would not be able to distinguish between a Kentucky thoroughbred and a Miami valley towpath mule. They do not go for the “sport” there is in a splendid contest between the noblest of the brute creation. They go to “speculate,” to “buy pools;” in short, to gamble, in the idiotic hope that by some blind chance they may return a “winner,” with a hat full of gold bought for a silver dollar. In fact they go out sheep and they return home shorn. Speaking of the recent universality of this gambling mania, a story goes that lately a St. Louis wholesale merchant’s cashier came to him one day and said:

“I should like to get away this morning sir; my sister is to be married to-day.”

“Certainly, certainly,” said the good-natured merchant.

Presently came the book-keeper, with a rueful countenance, who said:

“I’m feeling very unwell, sir, and if you could spare me, I’d like to be excused for to-day.”

The amiable merchant cheerfully gave the requested permission. Shortly after the errand boy appeared.

“Please, sir; my grandmother died last night, and she’s to be buried this afternoon. Please may I go home?”

“To be sure, my boy,” said the merchant. “Sorry for your mother; here’s a quarter for you.”

“Well,” soliloquized the merchant, “since they’re all gone, I might as well shut up shop. I guess I’ll call and see the doctor to-day.”

At the doctor’s he got word that the physician had just been called away to visit a patient in the country, so he concluded to do some business with his lawyer. At the latter’s office he discovered that the man of law had gone to file a paper in the probate court.

“Well, if I can’t see anybody,” said he to himself, “I might just as well go over to the races awhile.”

As he approached the grand stand he observed astride the roof a small animate object, which closer inspection proved to him was his office boy, who was thus attending his grandmother’s funeral. In front of the stand stood the doctor holding a roll of bills in one hand, and shouting for bets on his favorite horse. Up on the stand he observed the lawyer wildly swinging his hat and hallooing like a maniac. Passing around the corner of the stand he came upon his sick clerk and the one who was marrying his sister, each with a schooner of lager in his hand and in an evidently hilarious condition.

“Well,” mused he, “King David was a good judge of human nature when he said, ‘All men are liars.’”

There is one topic more that may appropriately be used to conclude this chapter, and that is the recalcitrancy to the highest welfare of the people, and the best interest of true public morality, of the most powerful instrument for good or evil that to-day exists. The press of the country is not only fully cognizant of the deplorable evils that arise from gambling on the turf, but lends to it countenance, encouragement and aid; and it does so undoubtedly for the money there is in it. The newspapers spread page after page of the turf and its events over their daily issues. The attractions and the interest of the race meetings are set forth with all the skill at their command. They become agents of thieves by publishing “pointers” on the races, and giving advice to bettors which is no more honest nor reliable than that of the sharks of the pool-room. They are thus false to their high mission; false to their lofty responsibilities, which should in all things guide and direct; false to the interests of society, and to the welfare of their readers and patrons. Surely it is time to call a halt in the prostitution of this noble influence to the purposes of race track gambling and systematic knavery. The sordid influence which leads them to become an active party to the debauchery of public morals would no doubt give them the cohesion in action that grows out of a common source of plunder; but newspapers are amenable to one influence—that of a united public opinion. Let the ministers of the gospel, the natural guardians of our morality; the teachers, the parents, and all good men everywhere, bring a united and emphatic protest to bear upon the press, to induce it to desist from encouraging this national crime, and from familiarizing the youth of America with the methods and fascinations of turf gambling, and we may yet hope to see the newspapers of the land stand upon this question on the side of the family hearth, and of God and morality.

The origin of the commercial exchange is coeval with the beginning of commerce. According to that eminent Oriental scholar and historian, Rawlinson, the city of Babylon contained several of these marts, each devoted to the sale of some particular description of merchandise, and Herodotus intimates that one of them was set apart exclusively to the sale of wheat, corn, barley, millet and sesame. Athens and Rome also had their exchanges, and during the middle ages the traders of Venice were wont to assemble in the Rialto. Marseilles boasted of a Chamber of Commerce in the fifteenth century, and as early as 1566 London merchants were accustomed daily to convene in the open air at various localities in Lombard Street, until the erection of the present Royal Exchange, and to-day exchanges or bourses are among the prominent commercial features of every great European city.

The idea of a commercial exchange germinated in the United States before the war of the American Revolution. Here, as in Europe, the basis of every mercantile exchange is a voluntary union of business men, who deem it for their mutual interest regularly to assemble in some convenient locality, for the purpose of effecting the sale of commoditiescommodities or securities, and of profiting by the fluctuations in market prices. Stock exchanges, produce exchanges, chambers of commerce and boards of trade are all essentially identical in character, the principal point of difference being the nature of the commodities bought and sold.

The New York Chamber of Commerce, founded in 1768, is the oldest organization of this kind in this country. Similar institutions were established in Baltimore in 1821, and in Philadelphia in 1833. In 1858 there were ten chambers of commerce and twenty boards of trade between Portland and San Francisco. In 1865 these bodies organized what is known as the “National Board of Trade.” In this association are represented Albany, Baltimore, Boston, Buffalo, Charleston, Chicago, Cincinnati, Cleveland, Denver, Detroit, Dubuque, Louisville, Milwaukee, Newark, New Orleans, New York, Oswego, Peoria, Philadelphia, Pittsburg, Portland, Providence, Richmond, St. Louis, St. Paul, Toledo, Troy and Wilmington.

As an institution, the commercial exchange has been productive of some good, but much harm. If restricted in its scope to the legitimate purposes of commerce, it is unquestionably of the highest benefit to the business world. When its operations are diverted into illegitimate channels it becomes a source of incalculable injury to society. As a great market place, it plays an important part in modern civilization; as a gigantic agency for the promotion of gambling in the commodities of the world, it is a snare, a delusion and a curse.

Not all the gaming hells of the country combined afford facilities for gambling equal to those furnished by these organizations. The faro dealer places a limit upon the stakes wagered; upon the floor of ’Change one may bet without limit. Not everyone can obtain admittance to the gilded salon of the tiger; the commission merchant, or broker, who does business upon the Stock Exchange or Board of Trade accepts orders from all comers. The character of the transactions in which his principals engage is to him a matter of indifference, his interest being centered in their frequency and extent.

To one who is not versed in the methods of conducting trading in the mercantile exchange, the jargon of the ordinary journalistic report of a day is unmeaning gibberish. “Longs” and “shorts,” “puts, calls and straddles,” “scalpers” and “plungers,” a “squeal,” a “squeeze,” an “unloading,” are terms as destitute of significance as though they were words from a foreign tongue. Yet the mode of doing business is not so complicated that any man of average intelligence need fail to grasp it. The author—as he has already stated in his autobiography—was once connected with a firm operating on the Chicago Board of Trade, and as such, acquired an intimate acquaintance with the modus operandi of its dealings, and he believes that his work would be incomplete should he ignore the marble palace through whose noiselessly swinging doors so many thousands have entered upon the path of shame which leads to ruin. Not that the Chicago Board of Trade is either worse or better than the score of similar institutions scattered through the country; nor is it intended to select that organization as the object of special animadversion. The methods of all commercial exchanges are, as has been said, substantially identical.

Members of these bodies may be classified on any one of several general principles. One system of classification has relation to the character of their operations; in other words, all members may be divided into two classes, the first comprising those who venture on their own account (popularly known as “speculators”), and the second embracing those who buy or sell only on the receipt of orders from outsiders (i. e., brokers). Under another system, members may be classified as those who wish to enhance the prices of commodities on the one hand, and those who, on the other, seek to depress market quotations. The former are technically known as “bulls,” and the latter as “bears.” These sobriquets are derived from the well-known propensities of the two descriptions of animals, the one to hoist and the other to pull down. A “bull” is one who seeks to advance prices; a “bear” one who strives to lower them. The distinction between “longs” and “shorts” is substantially of the same nature. A “long” is a speculator who, believing that the price of a certain commodity is destined to advance, buys freely in anticipation of a rise. It follows that he is naturallynaturally, if not inherently, a “bull.” On the other hand, a “short,” judging that quotations are destined to decline, sells wherever he can find a purchaser. He, naturally, is a “bear.” It must not be forgotten, however, that neither of these parties for a moment actually expects either to receive or deliver the articles which he buys or sells; and the reason for this apparently inconsistent statement will be explained hereafter.

With these few prefatory words of explanation, we will pursue the course of the speculator, after which will be given a definition of the slang terms used, and following this the reader will find a concise description of the adventitious agencies employed in the manipulation of the market.

The technical nomenclature of the exchange—sometimes termed the “slang of the street”—which, as has been remarked, is incomprehensible to the uninitiateduninitiated, in itself affords some key to the nature of the business transacted. Some of the most common terms are here defined, although to enumerate them all would swell the dimensions of the present chapter beyond the limits assigned it.

A “scalper” is an operator who makes it his practice to close his transactions as soon as he can see a small profit, say a quarter of one cent. His operations are neither more nor less than betting on a rise or fall in prices.

The “guerilla” is a species of the genus “scalper,” few in number, and makes a specialty of dealing in stocks and commodities: So unsavory is the reputation of this class that it has fixed the appellation of “Hell’s Kitchen” and “Robber’s Roost” upon certain localities in the New York Stock Exchange.

Still another class is composed of those who strive to enrich themselves by the fictitious rise and fall of a particular stock in which they constantly deal.

The terms “long” and “short,” when used as adjectives, have been already explained, and their signification when employed as nouns is practically the same. A “long” is a speculator who has bought heavily in anticipation of a rise. A “short” is one who has sold freely in expectation of a decline. The action of the former is called “loading.”

“Forcing quotations” is keeping up prices by any means whatever. When this is accomplished by the dissemination of fictitious news or the circulation of unfounded rumors, the operator is said to “balloon” prices.

A speculator is said to “take a flyer” when he engages in some side venture; he “flies kites” when he expands operations injudiciously; he “holds the market” when he prevents a decline in prices by buying heavily; he “milks the street” when he manipulates so skilfully that they rise or fall at his pleasure; he “unloads” when he sells the particular stock or commodity of which he is “long;” he “spills stock” when he offers large quantities with a view to lowering or “breaking” prices; if he is successful in these tactics he is said to “saddle the market.”

A “bear” is said to be “gunning” a stock when he employs all his energy and craft to “break” its price. He “covers,” or “covers his shorts,” when he buys to fulfill his contracts. He “sells out” a man by forcing prices down so that the latter is obliged to relinquish what he is “carrying,” perhaps to fail.

The nature of a “corner” has been already set forth in detail. The operator or clique organizing and managing it is said to “run” it. The day when final settlement must be made between the opposing parties engaged in such a transaction is termed “settling day.” If the “bears” are forced to settle at unusually high prices they are said to be “squeezed.” The “squeeze” which has followed many a corner has precipitated not a few wealthy men into financial ruin. This circumstance, however, is usually a matter of utter indifference to the manipulators. The success of a “corner” is sometimes prevented by what is known as a “squeal,” or revelation of the secrets of the pool or clique by one of its members. Sometimes the plans of the organizers of a “corner” are brought to naught by a “leak” in the pool, that is, by one of the members secretly selling out his holdings. Of course, a “corner” can be formed only on what is known as a “future,” or future delivery, by which is meant the sale and purchase of some stock or commodity to be delivered at some period in the future.

Yet another form of gambling very common upon the floors of stock and commercial exchanges is known as dealing in “puts,” “calls” and “straddles.” When a person buys a “put,” he pays a stipulated sum for the privilege of selling to the party to whom it is paid, a certain quantity of some particular stock or other article, within a fixed time, at a designated price. Thus A might pay to B one hundred dollars for the privilege of selling him one hundred shares of Union Pacific stock at a stipulated price, within ten days. As a matter of course, the price named is always a little below the current quotation ruling at the time the contract is made, i. e., the day upon which the “put” is bought. If, for instance, the “put” is sold at 80 cents on that day, and the market declines to 75, A might tender to B the one hundred shares, and the latter would be compelled to take them at that price. In such a case A would have gained five dollars per share, or five hundred dollars in all, provided he had “covered his shorts,” i. e., bought in the stock which he had already put, at the latter figure. As a matter of fact, neither party contemplated an actual delivery. The market having declined, A’s net gain is, of course, only four hundred dollars, he having already paid one hundred dollars to B. This appears an easy method of winning money. As a matter of fact, however, experience has shown that very few men win through the purchase of “puts” and “calls.”

A “call” is similar in its general nature to a “put,” but differs from it in that the buyer of the former has the privilege of calling or buying a certain quantity, under the same conditions. The seller of the “put” contracts to buy, and of the “call” to sell, whenever the demand is made.

A “straddle” is a combination of the “put” and the “call,” and is the option of either buying or selling. The cost of these “puts,” “calls,” and “straddles,” which are known as “privileges,” varies from one to five per cent. of the par value of the stock, or the market value of the commodity involved, and depends upon the time they have to run, the range covered, and the activity and sensitiveness of the market.

It is claimed in behalf of these privileges that they are, in their essence, really contracts of insurance, and as such are entirely legitimate. The general public, however, has always regarded them as a complex system of betting, and believes that they constitute one of the most pernicious features of the exchange. The fallacy of the argument in their favor, above outlined, becomes apparent when it is remembered that the law regards all contracts of insurance as being one form of gambling, and sanctions and enforces them only on grounds of public policy. The burden of proof is upon the defenders of “puts” and “calls” to show that, even if it be conceded that they are contracts of insurance, they can be justified as being necessary to the furtherance of commerce or the welfare of society. That they do not tend to promote commerce is shown by the fact that neither party to the transaction for a moment contemplates the actual delivery of the article bought or sold. It is essentially a wager between two individuals as to the future course of the market, one betting that prices will advance, and the other that they will decline. The absurdity of claiming that they promote the general welfare of society, (were such a claim advanced), may be easily demonstrated by calling attention to the economic consideration that the winner has done nothing to produce the money which he pockets, and by pointing to the pecuniary loss and moral debasement which they entail. They sustain somewhat of the same relation to the dealings of the large operators as does the keno room to the faro bank.

The legislature of Illinois, a few years ago, placed the seal of its condemnation upon the practice by making it a misdemeanor to deal in privileges. It is said (although the author is unable to vouch for the truth of the statement), that this virtuous action on the part of the lawmakers was due to the influence brought to bear upon them by a well-known member of the Chicago Board of Trade, who had been dealing extensively in “puts” and “calls,” and had lost heavily. However that may be, the Chicago Board, after permitting the practice for years, adopted a rule prohibiting their sale, and even went to the length of suspending a few members for its violation, among them being one of the most prominent operators upon the floor. This spasm of virtue, however, was not of long duration, and at the present time such privileges may be procured from members of that august body with the greatest ease.

The action of this great Western Exchange in the premises may possibly have been prompted by motives other than a desire to comply with the statutes. Long after the enactment of the law, privileges were sold as freely as before its passage. In time, however, it was found to be a two-edged sword. Operators found it possible to purchase “puts” for the purpose of buying against them, and to buy “calls” with a view to shield themselves from loss when they became “bears.” Thus an army of sellers appeared when the “call” price was reached, and a horde of buyers when the market touched the price at which “puts” had been sold, the consequence being that the range of the market was curtailed. Members objected to tactics which robbed the market of that elasticity so dear to the speculator’s heart. Carping critics say that the virtue of the directors was the outgrowth of disappointeddisappointed self-seeking. In other words—speculation—the very life-blood of the exchange was being curtailed. Hinc illae lachrymae.

But the action of the directors, as was soon found, rendered it possible for certain members, who were willing to incur the risk, to do a thriving business in privileges provided the transactions were secret. Of course firms desiring to obey the rules were at a disadvantage, and legitimate brokerage suffered. There was one obvious, logical conclusion: “Allow every one to engage in the business or no one.” This commended itself to common sense, and a carefully worded resolution was adopted, the practical effect of which, as every one understood it, was virtually to remove the ban from the sale of privileges. Since that time, “puts” and “calls” may be purchased with the same ease as one may pay his taxes.

But let us return to the methods employed in the manipulation of prices. Reference has been already made to the very common practice of attempting to “bull” or “bear” quotations by buying or selling large quantities, or “blocks” of some particular article. There is probably no description of market in the world so extremely sensitive as the commercial exchange. A sale or purchase of any given commodity by certain, well-known operators, is often sufficient to excite its pulse to fever heat. A similar result may ensue from a report that the Secretary of the Treasury contemplates a call of a certain denomination of bonds; that Bismarck had been heard to say that the French blood was too thin and needed a little more iron; that a norther in Texas had killed a herd of cattle; that a few grasshoppers had been seen in the neighborhood of Fargo; or that the mercury was believed to be about to fall in Northern Minnesota. The great speculators, the master minds of these gigantic institutions, are quick to perceive this sensitiveness, and equally prompt to avail themselves of it. Fictitious news is as potent an agency in advancing or depressing prices as is the genuine article, and it is a sad truth that there are not wanting large operators who do not scruple to employ it. It is said—and there is good reason to believe the statement to be true—that there are men at all great commercial centers whose only occupation is the dissemination of unfounded reports, with a view of raising or lowering the prices of certain commodities in regard to which the rise or fall of a fraction of a cent may mean the gain or loss of millions. These manufacturers of fictitious news are said to “wear purple and fine linen and fare sumptuously every day.” The results of their operations are to be found in the wrecking of important financial and corporate interests and the corresponding enrichment of the unprincipled manipulators who employ them.

Some years ago, there came a mysterious rumor to the New York Stock Exchange, that the directors of a certain railroad in the Northwest had decided upon taking a step which could not fail to prove disastrous in the extreme to the interests of the corporation. No one was able to tell just where the rumor originated, yet it found sufficient credence to depress the price of the road’s stock, and to induce free selling. The next day came the refutation of the story; the stock recovered its tone, and the clique in whose interest the lie had been sent over the wires reaped a profit of $60,000. In the slang of Wall Street this was called “a plum.” It is difficult to see the difference in moral turpitude between such tactics as these and “steering” for a “brace” faro bank.

An acquaintance of the author, who served with distinction during the late civil war, on his return home, was employed by a company owning alleged oil lands in Pennsylvania, to superintend the sinking of wells within its territory. The salary was liberal and the duties not arduous. Wells were duly sunk, but no oil discovered, after a time, the gentleman in question received instructions from the headquarters of the company in an Eastern city to telegraph, on a certain day, that a well recently sunk, was yielding a certain large number of barrels per day. This dispatch was to be followed, a day later, by one of similar tenor, making a like assertion in reference to another well. The party who gave these instructions well knew that a certain class of speculators on the exchanges are in the habit of discounting private information through the bribery of telegraph employees, and he placed no little reliance upon this fact for the furtherance of his scheme. The event proved that he had calculated wisely. The telegrams were duly sent and were read by other parties before they reached the man to whom they were addressed. The result was that the company’s stock bounded upward with the celerity of a rubber-ball, and the projectors of the enterprize unloaded at an enormous profit. Of course, the purchasers found out that they had been deceived, but as none of the officers of the corporation had disseminated the report of the finding of oil, it was impossible to attach any responsibility to them.

And yet there are not wanting those who affirm, and stoutly maintain, that without the commercial exchange, business would be brought to a stand-still, and commerce paralyzed; that Boards of Trade and Produce and Stock Exchanges are prime factors in advancing the welfare of the country. And this is said despite the fact that the percentage of legitimate business done is utterly insignificant in comparison with that which is purely speculative in its character. The sales of one agricultural product alone upon the floor of a single mart of this sort for one month alone have been known to equal the production of the entire country for a whole year! Is this legitimate commerce, or is it gambling on the wildest and most extensive scale? Members of various Boards in the United States who assume to do a strictly legitimate business, send out circulars through the rural districts, the sole object of which is to induce the recipients to speculate upon the floor of ’Change. These communications depict, in glowing terms, the ease and certainty with which ignorant countrymen may acquire fortunes in a day, through the purchase of a “put” or a “call,” or a “straddle.” They purport to explain, fully and clearly, the methods of speculating in stocks and grain, and represent the system as simple and easily comprehensible, while the authors know that the system is in itself complex and the issue a venture—at the very best—uncertain. It is not pretended that the transaction contemplates an actual transfer of the commodity from seller to buyer. Is this frank? Is it manly? Is it honest?

Scarcely a decade has passed since the whole country rung with the echoes of the “Fund W” scandal. Unquestionably the men who engineered that gigantic scheme of fraud were not representative members of any commercial exchange, yet it is equally certain that but for the facilities afforded for the perpetration of the fraud through the Exchanges’ methods of doing business, that stupendous swindle would have been impossible. Yet the infatuated speculators who do business through legitimate houses, believe that they can trust their own judgment as to the future of the market! It may be that such folly has its parallel, but it is not to be found in that of the man who stakes his money on the issuance of a particular card from a faro box.

Few of those who have never witnessed the daily routine of business on the floor of an Exchange can conceive the wild uproar, the hubbub, the confusion, the tumultuous excitement, which there reigns supreme. Let us take a glance at one of the best known. During the busy hours of the session the floor of the magnificently proportioned room is crowded. Scattered about at distances more or less regular, are large marble-topped tables, about which gather groups of men engaged in quiet, though sometimes earnest, conversation. These tables contain drawers, in which members, who pay well for the privilege, keep samples of the commodities in which they deal. Hurrying to and fro about the room may be seen brokers and their clerks, carrying in their hands small paper bags, containing samples of grain which has been consigned by growers or other shippers, for sale. Similar bags are strewed all over the tables. Everything indicates activity, and it is evident that important business is being transacted. The sound of the voices of the traders rising from the floor to the visitors’ gallery, joined to the clicking of the myriad of telegraphic instruments, reminds one of the ceaseless hum of bees around a hive, heard in midsummer, when the nodding clover and bending buckwheat invite the tireless workers to taste their sweets.

Such is the scene during the early hours, but as the morning advances the picture changes. In the center of the room are four octagonal “pits,” formed by short flights of steps which rise from the floor on the outside and again descend on the inside. In these so-called pits is carried on the heaviest business of the Exchange. One is devoted to the sale of wheat, another to corn, and a third to provisions, pork, lard, etc. Gradually, as the minutes and hours pass, they fill with an eager crowd of traders, which swells in numbers until the area itself and the steps leading to it, are literally jammed with anan excited throng, yelling, gesticulating, waving their arms and shaking their fists in each other’s faces. The hum has risen to a surge, and to the onlooker in the gallery the scene seems to have been transformed into Bedlam or pandemonium. On the upper row of steps of one of the pits, men stand facing each other, forty feet apart. One raises his hand and makes what appear to be cabalistic signals to the other, who makes some other equally mysterious signs. Then each produces a card on which he makes an entry, and the dumb show is duplicated by others. To understand this pantomime, no less than the significance of these frenzied cries and frantic gyrations of arms and fingers requires an education of peculiar character, the education of the habitué of the floor. Each motion of the hand, each turn of a finger has its significance, representing the quantity of the particular commodity sold, and the price at which it is bought. These angry, dissonant voices, proceed from the hoarse throats of opposing factions, one trying to “bull” and the other to “bear” the market, and each striving to rival the other in clamor and persistency. No wonder that the excitement is intense. The entire wheat crop of the country is being sold before it is harvested, and much of it before it is planted, and on transactions of such magnitude a variation in price of even a fraction of a cent, means the gain to one and loss to another of tens of thousands of dollars. Fortunes are accumulated and sunk in an hour. One operator sees wealth within his grasp; another perceives bankruptcy staring him in the face. It is not strange that under such circumstances the strongest passions in the human breast should struggle for mastery, and find vent in expressions as wild as they are exaggerated.