A nervous Manhattan financier snatched at what he thought was his daily Wall Street Journal. What was this? Editor Kenneth C. Hogate, President C. W. Barren were getting after those bummers who undersold him yesterday! He called the fine news across the room to tell his secretary, found her tittering timorously and avoiding his look. Again he looked at his paper. Here was his name in print! What had he done? Dastardly impudence! Oh! . . . This was not the Wall Street Journal. He was reading the Bawl Street Journal, its gay, impish...
To continue reading:
or
Log-In
