It was, he admits, a “moment of weakness.”

But a fight. “I’m a trader,” Tom says. “Always have been. So when there were multiple offers, it kinda got me going. There was competition. And I won.”

That cost him $1.6 million.

“When I’ve done a deal, the litmus test is always how I feel right afterwards. The gut. And you know what? I’m glad I bought it.”

Just like that, after a brief but intense battle last week, Niagara-on-the-Lake’s Mould House had a new owner. What is more salient, it got a protector.

Neither competitors nor money nor a boatload of fungus could keep Tom Caldwell away. And with his purchase of what turned out to be the house next door to his, an unusual thing happened in Old Town.

Why did he pay $200,000 more than asking for an uninhabitable and vacant pile that cleaners refused to enter without hazmat gear?

Turns out the guy who owns a major financial brokerage bearing his name, with a Toronto mansion, an Order of Canada medal, honorary regimental command, deep local roots and serious Bay Street creds is, well, a softie.

He was smitten. Couldn’t help it.

So, instead of throwing wealth into erecting a hulking, conspicuous, Mississauga trophy home on a prime development lot (like the one across the street) or a profitable multiunit edifice, this mouldy wee cottage with quixotic chimneys stole Tom’s crusty heart.

“God only knows how much it’s going to cost to preserve it,” he says. “But this is what the Old Town is about. And this is the heart of NOTL. Council won’t mess this one up.”

It’s the battle of our time and place. Do we opt for more housing, a fatter tax base, more people and intensity — or quietly restore and revive what we’ve got?

Local politicians, taking their lead from a pro-development province, have turned up the flames by greenlighting a major new hotel in a residential hood, condos on Mary Street,  tracts of new houses near Virgil and GTA-style towers at Glendale.

Egged on by the feds, cities across Canada have trashed zoning laws, opened the door for sixplexes, eased financing for homes with suites and given newbie buyers 30-year mortgages and lower down payments on seven-figure properties.

Meanwhile, rates are plopping, with four cuts now by the Bank of Canada. More coming.

The policymakers are anxious to pump things up before (a) the potential re-election of Donald Trump (and ensuing tariffs) and (b) after the surprise announcement to slash immigration.

Economists say that’ll have quick consequences as consumer demand drops and the worker pool dries.

Small business operators say it’s all crazy. Politics, not logic.

The big swirly things may seem remote from our streets. But they’re not. NOTL’s a microcosm of these pressures.

Is more always better?

“Council thinks so,” says Tom. “They really don’t have the vision needed to know what to protect and preserve. Some of us need to ante up to do that, and it takes money. I blame the town for allowing houses to be built that just don’t fit in.”

So one of the 800 empty and available listings currently on the market is being shielded from demolition.

Original features will be preserved as it becomes a family guest house. “Hopefully, this will work,” Tom says, “for the grandchildren, and beyond.”

Is this a one-percenter thing to do?

Of course, it is. Not everybody has a couple of million kicking around to snatch and rescue a faded, troubled architectural gem. Most would seek to turn mould into money.

Truth be told, Caldwell isn’t helping to solve the nation’s housing crisis. It’s more about our soul.

And thus, a fine argument for having more rich people.