"Small margin accounts are dangerous," he warned. "We accept them, but we don't solicit them. Those wolves out there will take the shirt off your back so quick it will make your head swim."
"Fair enough," answered Kellog cheerfully. "As a matter of fact, I am in the market for a few wolfskins myself. Here, buy me some Callistan Radioactives and sell some Martian Gems; all you can for the money."
Neville grunted disapprovingly, but took the money. Nobody but an ignorant fool would sell Martian short, and Callistan was no bargain above 400. Kellog went on into the board room and sat down behind the group of local capitalists who were scanning the board in a listless, bored way. Kellog had a hard time restraining his elation, for the figures on the board they were looking at were ancient history to him. His information was over an hour ahead of it. After a while he got up and phoned Wade from a booth.
"Read me the latest dope," he said. Then listened as Wade gave him the quotations. Martian had stopped falling; there was a flurry in Oberon Metals. He hung up and stopped at Neville's desk on the way back to his chair.
"Cover that Martian sale, then buy me some Oberon."
Neville blinked. Oberon had been inactive for days. But he noticed Kellog had doubled his money on the Martian transaction, and had a nice paper profit on his Callistan stock.
"Beginner's luck," he cautioned, as he filed the order.
When Kellog got the day's close from Wade, he closed out his line. It was not a bad day's work. His cash balance on Neville's books was over fourteen thousand. He left it there; tomorrow was another day.
The next day he ran the fourteen thousand up to forty-five. The day after that he finished up with a couple of hundred. He drew enough of it to pay the power bill, then walked on to the booking office of Titan General Shops.
"Last week," said Kellog to the clerk, "I left an order here for some parts for a special televise machine—"