Young Lonigan - James T. Farrell [407]
“Well, maybe there’s something to what you say, Carroll, only some people have been hit pretty hard. I know I took a flyer in some Imbray stock, not a lot, just a little, and I got socked.”
“Jesus, Studs, I wish you’d asked my advice before you did that. You know what’s happening? People on the inside told me this. Imbray is in a bad spot. He’s been fighting with a Cleveland financier, and this fellow from Cleveland has old Solomon with his back to the wall. It looks bad, because this Cleveland financier, his name is Goddard, he’s got Imbray where he wants him. Imbray has to plug up his own stock and buy them on the market so that Goddard can’t get them and get control of Imbray’s companies. And to do that Imbray has to keep getting more money by issuing new stock. In consequence, he’s built up a shaky pyramid, and now his stock is too watered. Imbray stocks are one kind not to buy. Get out of it quick, and buy some good government bonds, or radio stock. The future of this country is in radio and aviation, and when I buy stocks that’s what I buy.”
“Jesus, I think I will, and thanks for the tip. You say that Imbray is on the bust and his stocks won’t go up?”
“They’re so highly overvalued they can’t go up much until the water is run out of them. There’ll be a receivership. I think the story will break any one of these days. The old man is just going to be shoved out. I hope you didn’t go in deep, Studs?”
“No. Just fifteen shares or so of a new issue.”
“That’s too bad. But take what you can get out of it, and get out right away. I got friends on the inside, and I’m not just talking rumors.”
“I will, and thanks. It’s not a great loss, but then a dollar is a dollar,” Studs said, becoming suddenly uneasy, because he noticed how Fran was carefully scrutinizing him.
“Studs, are you running around very much?” Fran asked, and Catherine flushed, her lips compressed in anger, and to mask it she forced a smile.
“Why, no. Why?” Studs asked.
“You’re awfully pale. You ought to be taking better care of yourself.”
“That’s just what I told him. And after all my nagging I’ve only just now, at last, got him to stop smoking,” Catherine said.
“Yes, he should,” Fran said without looking at Catherine. “Studs, you look ghastly, and you ought to be taking better care of yourself. You should see Doctor O’Donnell regularly, drink a lot of milk to build yourself up, and you should do some other kind of work besides painting. That’s too hard for anyone in your condition.”
“I’m all right. I tired myself out a little swimming, but that’s not serious,” Studs said.
“It is too serious. You’re getting married now, and you must take care of yourself. If you don’t, I’m telling you it can be very serious. You look simply terrible. Catherine, you better watch him closely and make him take care of himself. He never would pay any attention to what my mother or Fritzie or I would tell him.”
“Well, I tell you I’m all right,” Studs said, smiling sheepishly.
“These men!” Catherine smiled.
“Yes, Carroll is much the same,” Fran said.
“Studs, you and I better go crawl away and hide our heads somewhere,” Carroll said dryly, filling an expensive pipe from a calfskin tobacco pouch, and Studs shrugged his shoulders non-committally.
“And Catherine, dear, I do want to see you alone sometime where we can talk. I’m going to be downtown Wednesday. Could you meet Loretta and I for lunch?”
“Why, Fran, darling, I’d love to.”
“What time could you meet me in the Fern Room at Sheriff and Forest’s?”
“Twelve o’clock.”
“All right, dear, I’ll expect you.”
“And don’t forget, Studs, we’ve got to see more of you,” Carroll said, puffing on his pipe.
“Sure,” Studs said.
“See any of the old boys much?”
“Not many.”
“I see Kelly in court now and then. He’s become