I will explain to you immediately. After returning to New York for a few years, I racked my brain trying to explain exactly why I couldn't win at the New York stock exchange, in a game I'd once won in the past. was a fifteen-year-old kid at illegal brokerage firms in Boston. I know one day I will realize where I went wrong and I will stop making mistakes. And then I will not only have the will to make the right decision, but will also have enough knowledge to ensure I do so. And it also means I will have power.

Please don't misunderstand me. It was not a calculated dream of power, nor a frivolous desire born of arrogance. It was like the feeling that the same stock market that had failed me at the Fullerton and Harding offices would one day serve me. I had a feeling that day would come. And it actually came - October 24, 1907.

The reason I said I was king for a day was: that morning, a broker of mine, knowing that I had been conducting bearish speculation, drove to the company of one of the partners. of a leading Wall Street bank. My friend told that banker that I was trading in large quantities and that I must bet all my luck. What good is good judgment if I cannot profit from it to the fullest?