Life — September 28, 1922 — page 7: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

The Great Secret F not exactly I trembling, still with awe suf- ficient to make me cough thrice to the second, I approached the Great Capitalist’s office. “Now, young man, what can I do for you?” boomed from behind a plateau of mahogany when I was ushered into the sanctum sanctorum. “I want to interview you,” I stam- mered, “Yes,” helpfully suggestive. “About how you made your noney,” I rushed on. “What meth- s you pursued—strokes of finan- cial genius—all that sort of thing.” ‘Hm-m-m !” mused the Great Cap- talist, pursing his lips just like any xher mortal. “Let me see. ‘I had five thousand dollars willed me by an aunt who had never sven me,” he said slowly. “That was i the time when Tom Edwards was rying to get someone to back his sutomobile company. He came to me and I laughed at him, I told him it no machine would supplant the horse. In common parlance, I turned im down flat. “He kept pestering me so much that I could not go to sleep at night ithout turning him down before I did the gas. Still I refused him. Vinally he asked me to lend him the money. His proposition was to give ne one-third interest in his company nd to repay me the five thousand if failed. I assured him that he ould fail, but I let him have the ioney. I was desperate for sleep. “Eight years later I sold my in- terest for three and one-half mil- on The Great Capitalist sighed. So id I, Mine was the deeper. “Of course I drew some dividends hile I held the automobile stoc! e resumed, “and everyone in the orld tried to get me to invest the ioney I saved. “Murray Smythe kept after me for ‘ year to go in on his moving pic- e scheme. During that time I ‘arrowly escaped apoplexy a dozen imes from guffawing when he vis- ted me. He didn't have a chance in the world to get a cent out of me. However, he found some letters hich I was anxious to recover and | reluctantly agreed to let him have with fear and , “Guess whom I saw to-day, Doctor.” “I'm afraid I'm a poor guesser.” “Oh! you can’t be. twenty thousand, blackmail. “A syndicate paid me five millions for my stock.” The Great Capitalist beamed at the memory and passed over a cigar. “Just before the war, Ted Winney had a plan to buy sugar options and he looked to me for assistance,” he continued. “Like the others, he got the merry ha-ha. He would still be getting it, but he pushed through my membership in the Swamp Creek Country Club and I advanced fifty thousand for his scheme, after kiss- ing my money a fond farewell. “You know what happened to sugar during the war. I made eight millions on that deal alone. “Those were my major opera- tions,” the Great Capitalist con- cluded. “Simple, isn’t it?” I agreed that it was, but on my way back to the office to write the interview I found the catch in it. I have no aunts who have never seen me. J. K.M. Nothing less than You have such a wonderful practice.” To Sundry Too Early Birds EAR Robin Redbreast, gentle sprite, I love your mellow “Cheep !” But is no Early Worm in sight? Or don’t you ever sleep? Oh, Sparrow, Bobolink and Wren! Though much I prize your art, You need not chant your lays again,— I know them now by heart. Ye'll break my heart, ye bonny birds That perch upon the stem; Your songs are quite too sweet for words, But not at 4 4. M.! A.G. The Great Train Robbery “I came near being in a train robbery on my last trip.” “How exciting !” “Yes; but at the last minute we decided not to eat in the diner.” comicbooks.com