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

Chapter 67 Larry Goes Astray (Seeking Monthly Tickets and Recommendations)

Larry returned to his apartment that night, feeling that he had gone astray because he had developed a liking for the taste of cigars.

At that time in the United States, there were no rules prohibiting smoking and drinking in public places, so many men smoked on the streets. Among them, 70% smoked cigars, and a small portion smoked snuff, mozzarella, and the newly emerging cigarettes.

From the day cigars became known to the public, Cuban cigars have been synonymous with the best cigars.

When Larry first smoked a cigar with Mr. Wallace, it was a Cuban cigar. By the time Larry learned to carefully discern the indescribable blend of flavors in the cigar smoke in his mouth, he already found smoking a cigar to be a very pleasant experience.

But during this chance encounter at the United Oyster House, Larry felt that the cigar given to him by the unfamiliar red-haired man was more mellow and stronger.

Especially now, only 18 hours after he went to sleep in the bathtub this morning, taking a puff of a cigar can help Larry get into a better mood.

Larry had heard a saying in his past life that young people don't like drinking or smoking because they haven't really experienced the pressures of life that keep them up at night.

Alcohol and tobacco are not just for relaxation, but should be for stress relief.

Larry is under a lot of pressure right now. Whenever he thinks about how he accumulated more than $1 in wealth before he was even 15 years old, he feels immense pressure.

So tonight he's become obsessed with cigars.

He finished the cigar he had at the United Oyster House on the way back in the rental carriage.

Back home, Larry first put all the clothes delivered from the clothing store during the day into the closet, and then made the new sheets that Carmel had delivered. Although his legs were very sore from walking so much that day, he didn't go to sleep. Instead, he went out onto the balcony, opened his military overcoat, and took out the box of cigars that the red-haired man had given him.

Mahogany humidor boxes are an extra type of packaging, custom-made for the wealthy to store their cigars.

Larry pulled out a cigar, peeled off the cellophane wrapper, and took a deep breath, immediately inhaling the familiar aroma of cocoa.

Larry pulled a box of matches out of his pocket. He'd grabbed it from a hotel in Hartford; it even had the Olive Branch Hotel's name engraved on it.

Just as Larry was about to light a cigarette, he realized he was missing something: he didn't have cigar cutters...

But it's already late, and even in the Back Bay area, there's nowhere to buy a cigar cutter at night.

But this didn't faze Larry. He bit off the end of the cigar, spat the half-smoked cigarette butt downstairs, poked a hole in the bottom of the cigar with a toothpick he'd brought from the Union Oyster House, and then lit the cigar with a match.

But then another problem arose: lighting a cigar with ordinary matches was too much of a hassle. Larry simply pulled out a dozen or so matches and, like the little match girl, extravagantly lit a whole bunch of them before finally managing to light the cigar.

Larry took a deep breath... This first sip was fucking awesome!

I feel like I can almost see my great-grandmother.

At this moment, a cold wind is blowing gently, and all around is quiet. Everywhere you look, there are neat and beautiful red-roofed houses and lights twinkling in the distance.

Looking up again, the waxing crescent moon is gently draping a silver veil over every inch of the ocean and land.

The cigar Larry was biting on would glow and then go out, like another, deeper breath.

This gave Larry a sense of tranquility, a feeling of forgetting the mundane world—it was incredibly relaxing.

But after smoking only half a cigar, Larry was drunk and dizzy. He flicked away the remaining half of the cigar, stumbled back to his bedroom, casually took off his clothes, rolled into the thick quilt, and fell into a deep sleep.
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The next morning, the winter sun was already high in the sky, and the warm sunlight filled the room. Larry sat up, stretched, and felt that he had slept very well.

Ah, one who hasn't smoked a cigar until they're drunk through the long night isn't qualified to talk about life...

Larry got up and went straight to the bathroom, took a nice, long shower, then sat on the edge of the bed and started getting dressed. It was Sunday, but he already knew where he was going—to the dark alley at the north end of the fishing port to buy cigars from the Italian.

This was during the Cuban War of Independence, when a large number of Cuban cigar artisans immigrated to the United States. These precious handmade cigar merchants were scattered throughout all the wealthy cities from New York to Chicago, and Boston, as the largest city on the East Coast of the United States besides New York, naturally also had many cigar artisans.

Cigar artisans from Boston flocked to the immigrant settlements at the north end of the fishing port and quickly formed an industrial alliance with the Italians who were skilled in handicrafts.

At this point, Larry wanted to find the most authentic Cuban cigars in Boston, and he had to go to the back alleys.

Larry couldn't help but smile as he recalled the time he went to buy a gun from Mr. K in the alley.

After putting on his shirt and pants, Larry stood barefoot on the ground and began to organize his wallet to see how much money he had left to spend.

The money he currently has was earned from his first purchase of Omaha stock at the Hartford betting company.

He made $3290 that time and deposited $2500 into his own account at Reading Stock Company. Later, when Larry bought Reading Company shares a second time, he spent $70 to "fish" for the shares and then bought 200 shares for $200.

These 200 shares, along with the $6249.5 profit, were deposited back into Reading Company.

After additional expenses such as train tickets, hotel stays, clothes, and ice cream, Larry now only has $346.25 left.

This seems to be the time I have the least amount of money in the last two months.

Of course, Larry still had $1200 in the safe, but he didn't need it at all. Larry felt that the $346.25 in his pocket was enough to buy cigars and related supplies.

After counting the cash, Larry stuffed it all into his wallet and took out the silver cross that Marco had given him, which he had put in there earlier, and hung it around his neck.

Just as I was about to close my wallet, a corner of folded white paper peeked out from the hidden compartment.

Larry looked puzzled. He didn't remember having any paper in his wallet, especially since he had folded it so neatly...

Upon opening it, Larry gave a wry smile.

This is the "IOU" that the front desk manager was forced to sign at the betting company in Hartford. It shows that the betting company owes Larry $2125.5.

This is a dead debt; there's no way I'll ever set foot in that gambling den again!

Larry's earlier pressure on the front desk manager to write an IOU was actually a strategic maneuver. To prevent the gambling den staff from discovering his true intentions, he deliberately demanded that they write an IOU for the remaining debt even after he had already made a profit of over $6000.

Larry is too afraid to go back and collect the debt. He estimates that if he goes, there's an 80% chance he won't get away unscathed, and the remaining 20% ​​chance he'll be sent back in pieces...

This concern isn't just about whether the gambling houses might have some underhanded tricks; they're in business, so they generally wouldn't dare to do anything too outrageous, nor would they have any reason to.

The more significant and critical hidden danger is that the local gangs will soon hear that someone has made a fortune, and that it's a 14-year-old boy with no connections. Naturally, they will target Larry.

This is the most terrible.

Therefore, this IOU is now completely worthless; throw it away!
Larry placed the note in the sunlight, about to tear it up, when he suddenly saw the amount of $2125.5 on the IOU. His heart skipped a beat, and he simply couldn't bring himself to do it...

Never mind! I'll just keep it in my wallet as a souvenir.

Larry sighed and then put the IOU back into his wallet.

(End of this chapter)