Lewis, the Jew, the only one of Sam's companions who had not followed him
in his spectacular money making, stayed in the office of the firearms
company and ran it like the scientific able man of business he was. While
Sam remained chairman of the board of the company and had an office, a
desk, and the name of leadership there, he let Lewis run the place, and
spent his own time upon the stock exchange or in some corner with Webster
and Crofts planning some new money making raid.
"You have the better of it, Lewis," he said one day in a reflective mood;
"you thought I had cut the ground from under you when I got Tom Edwards,
but I only set you more firmly in a larger place."
He made a movement with his hand toward the large general offices with the
rows of busy clerks and the substantial look of work being done.
"I might have had the work you are doing. I planned and schemed with that
end in view," he added, lighting a cigar and going out at the door.
"And the money hunger got you," laughed Lewis, looking after him, "the
hunger that gets Jews and Gentiles and all who feed it."
One might have come upon the McPherson Chicago crowd about the old Chicago
stock exchange on any day during those years, Crofts, tall, abrupt, and
dogmatic; Morrison, slender, dandified, and gracious; Webster, well-
dressed, suave, gentlemanly, and Sam, silent, restless, and often morose
and ugly.
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