America 1881: Legend of the West

"Let's take it!" Chen Jianqiu made a quick decision.

"Take it? The market is now like a patient who is slightly better. He can't bear the slightest fright." Silas shook his head. "Panic is spreading, and more and more people are selling. Maybe it's not good." It’s going to collapse, is it appropriate for us to go in at this time?”

"You also said that the market's confidence has just stabilized." Chen Jianqiu looked at Silas, "If the market really collapses, who will buy our gold bonds?"

"In this battle, the winner takes all, and the loser will die without a burial place." He said solemnly.

"But, we can't handle this market situation!" Silas was a little anxious.

It seems that his big boss is overconfident in his own strength and financial situation.

More than 10 million US dollars in gold have just been sent to the federal Treasury to fill the hole. The remaining 20 million plus the money from Sanjiang Bank are all the funds that can be used.

When the market collapses, it triggers a stampede effect, just like a mountain falling. The money that goes into it becomes a bottomless pit.

If you go against the current, you are going against the entire market. What is enough money for you?

If you have a hard time, will you be able to survive the rest of your life?

"Believe me, pick up!" Chen Jianqiu's voice was unmistakable, "You have to nail it there today. If anything happens, just call back."

Silas was helpless and prepared to get up and go to the exchange.

But halfway through, he turned back again:

"Boss, I can't accept everything even if I want to. We don't have that much money."

"Railway, Pacific Railroad and several other railroad companies in the west stock, we will take whatever they sell!" Chen Jianqiu seemed to have already set his sights on the target and replied.

Silas was confused again:

"Boss, let me remind you that since you left the Pacific Railway, Hopkins has been messing around for a while. The company is in chaos and is on the verge of bankruptcy. There is no hope of profit. The stock is worthless. It is garbage among garbage. .”

Chen Jianqiu was happy:

"Trash is great, I really like picking up trash."

He looked at Silas and said to him seriously:

"The stocks of railway companies account for a large proportion of the market, and they are also the main battlefield between us and those European guys. The railway assets of a country that covers an area of ​​more than 9.3 million square kilometers and is constantly developing will definitely not be NPLs, they just need to be managed and consolidated.”

Silas had no way to convince his boss.

He no longer insisted on his opinions. As an excellent executor, he decided to do his best to do the things at hand instead of arguing with his boss again.

On the other side, in the headquarters of Belmont Bank.

Belmont and his European think tanks are also paying close attention to market trends.

They gathered in a large room.

Boards hung on the walls of the room recorded the latest information from the New York Stock Exchange.

Like Chen Jianqiu's "command center", this place is equipped with seven or eight telephones, each of which is connected to the exchange.

Belmont's orders were conveyed along these telephone lines to the stockbrokers on the exchange side.

Belmont was standing in front of the blackboard at this time, watching his men stepping on stools to update data.

He is very satisfied with the current battle situation.

The stock market in New York was in dire straits after a morning sell-off.

At the end of the 19th century, European capital accounted for a huge proportion of the American market, especially the British.

As the world's largest capital exporter at the time, the British were very willing to invest all over the world, especially in booming countries like the United States that had huge demand for capital.

And American railway companies are naturally their heavy warehouse areas.

This round of short selling was dispatched by Rothschild Bank, with the goal of knocking down the slightly improved U.S. market again.

"Where's Morgan? Why didn't I see him today?" Belmont looked at the people around him, but found no trace of Morgan.

"I seem to be sick. I said I had a bad cold due to too much cool wind at night." A follower said, "I just met someone from their bank this morning."

"Shall we wait for him?" asked an Englishman standing next to Belmont.

"Ignore him, I'm here." Belmont put his hands behind his back and looked up at the board on the wall, extremely confident.

Suddenly, the phone behind me rang again.

The operator picked up the phone:

"Huh? Oh, um, um, okay, I understand."

Belmont turned his head and looked at the operator.

"Boss, we have a big order to take over." The operator put down the phone, raised his head and said to Belmont.

"Do you know who the buyer is?" asked the British man next to him.

"Um, I don't know." The operator shook his head and picked up the phone again, "I'll go ask."

"Which company's stock is it?" Belmont asked.

"Pacific Railroad, Santa Fe Railroad and several other railroad companies. Someone took over and held up the price." The operator replied.

"No need to ask." Belmont chuckled, "It must be the country bumpkin named Chen. This guy is a guy who doesn't know how to live or die."

He said to the British: "Let Simon and the others continue to sell, and release the chips in Williams' hands. Let me see how much money he has!"

"Wouldn't that give him an advantage?" The British man was a little confused.

"Hehe, he thinks he has the bottom. I will let him understand that there is another bottom below. I will completely break through their defense!" Belmont's eyes were fierce.

"What about the gold bonds?"

"Same, I want all the assets in their hands to turn into garbage!" Belmont gritted his teeth.

He couldn't bear the thought of Chen Jianqiu's insult to him that night.

Hillbillies, go back to your west!

That afternoon, there was panic inside and outside the New York Stock Exchange.

On the stock exchange floor.

Merchants and brokers crowded in front of the trading booth and scrambled for the window, waving their bills frantically and shouting at the top of their lungs.

The floor was filthy, with all kinds of paper balls strewn about.

The air was turbid, and the smell of sweat and other strange smells were intertwined.

No one wants to sit back in their seats because their belongings are evaporating, which makes them sit on pins and needles.

People are once again reminded of the fear of being dominated by a stock crash.

The bond trading floor next to it was also bleak.

Many people who were once confident are now shy away from gold bonds.

The second tranche of gold bonds went unnoticed.

34 Bell Street, afternoon, 4:.

In the command post of the big office, a group of people gathered around Chen Jianqiu with serious faces, looking at the large piece of paper on the table.

The most frustrated of them all was Silas.

At this moment, he was standing opposite Chen Jianqiu, holding the table with both hands, his tie was crooked, and his usually neat hair was messy; and beside him, Okafor, the general manager of Sanjiang Bank, looked even more ashen.