Hurricane Gambling

In the 18th Century, when Yankee traders were enterprising and sporting, men wagered guineas along New Bedford and Newburyport waterfronts about fulfillment of time-delivery contracts at Calcutta of clipper-ship cargoes. Last week dark-skinned, poly-tongued Manhattan Coffee Exchange brokers--Greek, Christian, Jew alike--bet furiously on West Indian weather. Could Munson Liner Southern Cross get her 50,000 bags of Rio coffee a-dock at Hoboken before the last trading hour of March? The 50,000 bags were bought and sold. If a hurricane delayed them the bags might be near but not at Hoboken, and sellers of them would be "short." Then the buyers could make them "pay through the nose," as Wall Street's cruel saying describes the desperate predicament of one who sells what he does not possess. Wireless orders dashed from Manhattan to the Southern Cross's captain bidding him drive his engines to their limits of safety. The ship pushed north past the Florida keys, past Cape Hatteras, into New York Harbor--before the coffee markets closed for March.