Yet with all this success John Burkett Ryder was still not content.  He was now a rich man, richer by many millions that he had dreamed he could ever be, but still he was unsatisfied.  He became money mad.  He wanted to be richer still, to be the richest man in the world, the richest man the world had ever known.  And the richer he got the stronger the idea grew upon him with all the force of a morbid obsession.  He thought of money by day, he dreamt of it at night.  No matter by what questionable device it was to be procured, more gold and more must flow into his already overflowing coffers.  So each day, instead of spending the rest of his years in peace, in the enjoyment of the wealth he had accumulated, he went downtown like any twenty-dollar-a-week clerk to the tall building in lower Broadway and, closeted with his associates, toiled and plotted to make more money.

He acquired vast copper mines and secured control of this and that railroad.  He had invested heavily in the Southern and Transcontinental road and was chairman of its board of directors.  Then he and his fellow-conspirators planned a great financial coup.  The millions were not coming in fast enough.  They must make a hundred millions at one stroke.  They floated a great mining company to which the public was invited to subscribe.  The scheme having the endorsement of the Empire Trading Company no one suspected a snare, and such was the magic of John Ryder’s name that gold flowed in from every point of the compass.  The stock sold away above par the day it was issued.  Men deemed themselves fortunate if they were even granted an allotment.  What matter if, a few days later, the house of cards came tumbling down, and a dozen suicides were strewn along Wall Street, that sinister thoroughfare which, as a wit has said, has a graveyard at one end and the river at the other!  Had Ryder any twinges of conscience?  Hardly.  Had he not made a cool twenty millions by the deal?

Yet this commercial pirate, this Napoleon of finance, was not a wholly bad man.  He had his redeeming qualities, like most bad men.  His most pronounced weakness, and the one that had made him the most conspicuous man of his time, was an entire lack of moral principle.  No honest or honourable man could have amassed such stupendous wealth.  In other words, John Ryder had not been equipped by Nature with a conscience.  He had no sense of right, or wrong, or justice where his own interests were concerned.  He was the prince of egoists.  On the other hand, he possessed qualities which, with some people, count as virtues.  He was pious and regular in his attendance at church and, while he had done but little for charity, he was known to have encouraged the giving of alms by the members of his family, which consisted of a wife, whose timid voice was rarely heard, and a son Jefferson, who was the destined successor to his gigantic estate.