WHEN Moley returned from London he found Thomas Corcoran and Benjamin Cohen snugly bundled in the "warm bed" he had left, while Rexford Tugwell had donned his pajamas and dressing gown. It wasn't long before he began to see newspaper photographs of Baruch and Tommy Corcoran walking through the park, each obviously exuding the charm for which both are so justly famous.
Baruch was overlooking no opportunity for steering the ship of state so as to avoid the economic reefs so clear to him in the waters ahead and apparently, as he listened to the bright young men around Roosevelt, so enticing to the New Deal. He had lost his fight to keep the country on the gold standard. He hoped by his persuasiveness and sound logic to protect the country from running on the shoals of other nostrums that seemed so millennium-like to the starry-eyed professors.
Apparently he had plenty of friends at court. His lieutenant Hugh S. Johnson had just been made head of the newly established NRA. Another of his boys, George Peek, was Administrator of the AAA. Between them they directed the entire effort at business and agricultural recovery.
But there were dangers outside the scope of these two trusted friends. For instance, there was the obvious fact that President Roosevelt was impressed with the theory of Professor George F. Warren that changes in the price of gold would result in pro-