Reborn in America, I am a legendary short seller on Wall Street.

Chapter 49 Mr. Wallace's Admonition (Seeking monthly votes and recommendations)
The boarding time for the night train was 9:45 p.m., and Mr. Wallace decided that the two of them should first enjoy a hearty dinner to ward off the discomfort of the night train journey.

This time, instead of Larry making arrangements, Mr. Wallace simply hired a horse-drawn carriage, and the two went straight to a luxurious restaurant that Mr. Wallace was very familiar with—the French restaurant, Chanson Left Bank.

This is a renowned French restaurant in Connecticut, with chefs and even kitchen helpers from France, and is famous for serving the most authentic French cuisine.

After the two were seated, Wallace ordered escargot in creamy consommé as an appetizer, roasted beef tenderloin with Bordeaux red wine sauce as a main course, accompanied by classic creamy spinach, dulce de duchess of potatoes, and baked oysters and mushrooms.

The aperitif was sherry, and the wine served with the meal was a Bordeaux blend of red wines.

Mr. Wallace doesn't eat seafood, but he specially ordered a Chesapeake Bay oyster platter for Larry, telling him that it was the restaurant's best American fusion dish and that he had to try it when he came.

Dinner was sumptuous, with melodious violin music playing in the background. The dark walnut wood and white linen complemented each other perfectly, and the air was filled with the aroma of roasted meat and cream.

The two did not talk much during the meal. After dinner, Mr. Wallace took out a box of Cuban cigars and gestured for Larry to come with him to the smoking room.

Larry followed Mr. Wallace into the smoking room, where Mr. Wallace personally cut a cigar and handed it to Larry.
"Come on, young man, light one up. You're taking a night train, and it's second class no less. This night is going to be very tough."

Larry waved his hand and declined with a smile, "Sir, I don't smoke."

Without a word, Mr. Wallace shoved a cigar into Larry's hand and frowned, saying, "If you don't know, you have to learn. As a gentleman, you need to know that cigars and alcohol are the basic etiquette of social interaction. You not only need to be familiar with them, but you also need to be able to explain their origins and distinguish their quality. Otherwise, you won't be able to deal with upper-class people in the future."

Larry smiled and thanked Mr. Wallace, then quickly took the long match from the table, lit Mr. Wallace's cigar first, and then lit his own.

"Cough cough..."

Larry had just lit his cigar when he started coughing incessantly.

Mr. Wallace laughed heartily, and then instructed Larry on how to finish a cigar with the elegance of a gentleman.

Before long, Larry mastered the art of smoking cigars and found them less pungent.

The two quietly smoked half a cigar, enjoying the fragrant smoke surrounding them.

After a while, Mr. Wallace slowly spoke.
"Larry! You're a smart kid. Remember, you can't tell anyone what happened here, not even Mr. Potter. Understand?"

Larry stiffened, quickly sitting up straight. He faced Mr. Wallace, who was elegantly smoking a cigar while leaning back on the red velvet sofa, his face serious.
"Yes, sir! I will keep this strictly confidential. I will not utter a single word about what I have seen or heard here unless you tell me to."

Mr. Wallace glanced at Larry through the smoke of his cigar and nodded slowly.
"Colt is a client I've been developing for a long time. I paid a hefty price for the opportunity to conduct business negotiations with them, and so far, the results have been fantastic. Over the next three weeks, I will be traveling frequently between Boston and Hartford to discuss the company's corporate financing. I think you should accompany me on these business trips often if you'd like."

Larry nodded quickly and said, "No problem, Mr. Wallace! I'm at your service at any time."

Mr. Wallace nodded again, then took a wallet from his pocket, pulled out $50, and handed it to Larry. “Son, take this. This is your share. I’ll give you an extra $200 as a reward after it’s done. But remember your promise, keep it a secret from everyone, and do everything I give you meticulously.”

Larry knew that Americans didn't appreciate polite formalities, and besides, if he didn't accept the money, Mr. Wallace would doubt his loyalty.

Larry accepted the $50 and expressed his gratitude, reiterating that he would never let Mr. Wallace down.

Mr. Wallace nodded, his face hidden in the smoke of his cigar, looking somewhat serious.

But after a short while, he suddenly laughed, raised his cigar, and asked,

"I heard you often trade on your own? And you're quite well-known in the betting industry?"

Larry knew he couldn't hide it from him, so he honestly admitted it.

Mr. Wallace nodded. “Three weeks from now, if all goes well, the Colt project will be public on Wall Street. At that time, I don’t mind if you make some money from the trading; it’s part of our securities industry ecosystem. But before that, or after you’ve made money, don’t tell anyone about it.”

As he spoke, Mr. Wallace leaned forward, looking earnestly into Larry's eyes and admonishing him, "Remember this old proverb, Larry, it will help you decide which path to take. It's 'The true Midas touch never makes a sound.' When opportunities arise, never shout about them; make money quietly."

Larry swallowed hard, straightened his posture, and nodded solemnly, saying, "Thank you, Mr. Wallace. I will remember your words for the rest of my life."
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Just as Mr. Wallace predicted, the night train journey was truly unbearable, especially in the cramped second-class carriages.

Larry was alright, though, since he was still young and could occasionally doze off on the swaying slow train, which allowed him to rest for a while. But Mr. Wallace was in a much worse situation. He was of middle age, with a bit of nervous weakness, and was used to a life of luxury. Now, in the terrible conditions of the second-class carriage, he was extremely tired but unable to fall asleep, which was causing him great distress.

As expected, the train was delayed again in this day and age. The train arrived in Boston a little after eight in the morning.

Despite having dark circles under his eyes, Mr. Wallace insisted on going to Paine Weber Securities to handle his big business, ignoring Larry's advice.

Larry had no choice but to forgo his rest and follow Mr. Wallace to the sales office.

At 10:00 AM, the stock market opened, and Larry resumed his work at the four ticker machines, forcing himself to stay alert. Mr. Wallace, however, was not at his post.

The quoting machine clicked and whirred, sending out one quote after another. Larry was very concerned about the current price of the stocks he held. Every time the quoting machine spit out the paper tape, he would immediately turn his head to look, secretly hoping to see the stocks he held.

Five minutes later, the quote for the first stock he held came out.

U.S. Steel, $17.25!

Larry was delighted. His cost price was $16.5 and he held 350 shares. The stock had risen by three-quarters of a dollar in two days, which was quite good for a large-cap stock.

(End of this chapter)