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It's the morning of September 7th, 1901, on the trading floor of the New York Stock Exchange on Wall Street.

John Peerpot Morgan stands to one side as traders and brokers hurry past.

There's a nervous edge to business this morning and Peerpot doesn't like it.

Normally, the 64-year-old investment banker stays away from the trading floor and lets juniors conduct business on the firm's behalf.

But today is different and Peerpot wants to be on the trading floor in person to judge the market's response to the shocking news that broke last night.

Just after trading closed yesterday, Word filtered through that the president of the United States, William McKinley, had been shot.

The president survived the assassination attempt and underwent an operation to remove a bullet lodged in his abdomen.

But he remains in a grave condition and the whole country awaits anxiously for news.

On Wall Street, Peerpot fears the situation will spark volatility in the financial markets.

He turns to a junior partner in his firm, a lean, younger man who's poised over a ticker-tape machine spewing out the latest stock figures.

Peerpot growls at the man.

Well, looks like the market's down six points, sir.

Six already? I remember when Lincoln and Garfield were assassinated. Even then, the market didn't drop six.

I suppose traders are a little quicker to react nowadays.

Quicker to panic. Look at them scurrying. Traders are pack animals. You know that?

So when the herd moves, we don't want to be trampled underfoot. We need to be ready for the worst.

Now, this is odd. What is?

The junior partner flicks through the tape with growing alarm.

Come on, man. Spit it out. I'm looking at the individual stock prices. US steel is down by eight or nine.

Peerpot scowls. Northern securities and southern railway too, I imagine.

You're right, Mr. Morne. All the industrial trusts are suffering big losses.

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