Up to the sixth floor of No. 41 Broad Street, Manhattan, one day last week trooped a delegation of newshawks looking for an office door on which was freshly stenciled the name "C. E. Mitchell, Inc." Admitted by a solitary office boy, the reporters found Charles Edwin Mitchell seated behind a small desk, nervously puffing cigarets. In his own words the bankless banker was a "poor fellow going back into business."
Only two short years had passed since Charles Edwin Mitchell had been driven from his tall temple by Ferdinand Pecora, whose persistent questioning...
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