The Master Rogue: The Confessions of a Croesus

by David Graham Phillips

I cannot remember the time when I was not absolutely certain that I would be a millionaire. And I had not been a week in the big wholesale dry-goods house in Worth Street in which I made my New York start, before I looked round and said to myself: “I shall be sole proprietor here some day.” Probably clerks dream the same thing every day in every establishment on earth—but I didn’t dream; Iknew. From earliest boyhood I had seen that the millionaire was the only citizen universally...