You Are the Least Qualified One!

Soon after, the meeting room door was pushed open.

Roosevelt was wheeled in.

Behind him came William Woodin, Arthur Ballantine, Hugh Jensen, and several other core members of the bill-drafting team.

Jack Morgan and the others rose to their feet and nodded politely.

Roosevelt raised a hand, signaling everyone to sit.

Everyone took their seats.

But the instant they sat down, someone noticed something was off.

To Roosevelt's left sat a young man.

When they had entered just now, everyone had assumed the young man was a secretary responsible for taking notes. But now, not only had he taken a seat, the seat he occupied...

Was to Roosevelt's left, while William Woodin sat to Roosevelt's right.

What did that mean?

It meant that in this meeting room, this young man might carry more weight than anyone except the Treasury Secretary.

Jack Morgan's gaze lingered on the young man's face for two seconds.

Young—very young. No more than twenty-five or twenty-six.

His face was somewhat unfamiliar, but those eyes...

When those eyes swept over them, there was not a trace of tension, not a shred of ingratiation—only a strange calm.

If he had to describe it, it was like looking at a group of animals invited into a cage.

Jack lowered his eyes and revealed no further emotion.

But beside him, John Rockefeller Jr. shifted slightly and exchanged a glance with Albert.

That look asked: Who is this man?

Albert gave a faint shake of his head.

"Gentlemen."

Roosevelt's voice interrupted them. His tone was mild. "First, I would like to apologize to all of you. I know that recently, some of the things I have said, done, and arranged may have made you uncomfortable."

"But I hope you can understand. With the country's current situation pressing upon us, I had no choice."

Silence.

No one responded.

But that silence itself was an answer.

We heard you, but we have every right not to buy it.

After a while, John Rockefeller Jr. tilted his head slightly and gave Albert a look.

The Chase Bank led by Albert appeared independent of the Rockefeller Consortium, but those familiar with the inside story knew it was one of the core pillars of the Rockefeller family's financial empire.

As for Albert himself, he was less a professional manager than the Rockefeller family's spokesman in the banking industry.

"Mr. President, what we want to know now is exactly how the government intends to examine the banks, and how it plans to get them reopened?"

Albert spoke.

His tone was neither respectful nor offensive. It was the straightforward, businesslike manner unique to old-school bankers.

Roosevelt turned toward Ballantine.

Ballantine rose and pushed a thick stack of documents to the center of the conference table.

More than a dozen copies of the stack had been printed, each cover bearing a simple title: Emergency Banking Act Draft.

"This is a draft we have prepared. Please review it, and then we can discuss it."

The documents were swiftly distributed into everyone's hands.

The meeting room filled with the soft rustle of turning pages.

Jack Morgan put on his glasses and began reading.

His fingers turned the pages one by one.

At first, he remained fairly calm. Although some clauses made him uncomfortable, they were still barely acceptable.

But when he reached Article Seven of Chapter Four, his fingers stopped.

Printed clearly on that page was:

[Chapter Four, Article Seven: The Treasury Department is hereby authorized, when injecting capital into banks, to obtain a corresponding proportion of board seats and to exercise oversight over the executive compensation, dividend policies, and major operational decisions of assisted institutions. Specific implementation rules shall be formulated separately by the Treasury Department. Assisted institutions may not refuse or evade them for any reason.]

Jack suddenly looked up at Roosevelt across from him.

Roosevelt met his gaze directly.

That gaze was as calm as a deep pool, devoid of any emotion, yet it sent an inexplicable chill through Jack.

At the same time, John Rockefeller Jr. turned to that page as well.

His brow instantly twisted into a knot. Then he turned again and glanced at Albert.

Albert understood at once. He took a deep breath, closed the document, and looked directly at Roosevelt. "Mr. President, forgive my frankness, but Article Seven of Chapter Four—the provisions allowing the government to enter the board of directors and interfere in decision-making—violates the core of bank management, violates the sacred rights of private property, and gravely contravenes the fundamental principles of banking law. Wall Street will never agree to this!"

The others did not directly voice their agreement.

But at a time like this, silence itself was tacit support.

"I think everyone has the right to say such things—but you, Albert Wiggin, are the one person least qualified to say them!"

Everyone's eyes instantly focused on Feilan.

Albert was stunned as well.

He had not expected the first person to step forward and refute him to be neither the President, nor the Treasury Secretary, nor the Assistant Treasury Secretary, but that young face.

"What do you mean by that?!"

Albert's face flushed, his anger carrying the heat of someone who had been insulted.

"In the summer of 1929, through several private investment companies under your name, you secretly shorted more than 42,000 shares of Chase Bank stock."

"But that is not the point. The point is that the transaction required funds, and you, Albert, 'borrowed' eight million dollars from your own Chase Bank, bit by bit."

"Then, in October 1929, the stock market crashed. Countless people lost everything. Some jumped from buildings, some ended up on the streets, and some lost their life savings."

"And you? Through that short sale, you made four million dollars."

Feilan paused. "That is why I said that you bastard have no right to talk about violations of banking law."

This matter would not be exposed until November 1, 1933, when it appeared as the front-page headline of The New York Times.

Later, at a hearing of the Senate Banking and Currency Committee, Albert was summoned to testify.

When confronted with questioning, this was his defense:

"My purpose in shorting was to 'defer' taxes and make trading in my bank's stock more active. It was commendable, and the transaction was entirely legal!"

And when committee counsel Ferdinand Pecora asked him, "As the head of a bank, is it ethical to short-sell your own company's stock?"

Albert's answer left the entire room dumbfounded: he did not admit that he had broken the law, nor did he even admit to violating morality.

Even more shamelessly, the four million dollars in profit he made from that short sale should originally have incurred 440,000 dollars in income tax, but through every sort of maneuver, he had "saved" it away.

What was most infuriating was that after some handling by his lawyers, all of it was completely legal at the time.

Because in 1929, no law prohibited corporate executives from shorting their own company's stock, no law prohibited a bank president from borrowing money from his own bank to short-sell, and no law required him to disclose such conflicts of interest.

Just as many experts later said: everyone believed Albert had done wrong, but at the time, no one could cite a single law to bring him to justice.