_ The vagaries of passion! Subtleties! Risks! What sacrifices are
not laid willfully upon its altar! In a little while this more
than average residence to which Cowperwood had referred was
prepared solely to effect a satisfactory method of concealment.
The house was governed by a seemingly recently-bereaved widow,
and it was possible for Aileen to call without seeming strangely
out of place. In such surroundings, and under such circumstances,
it was not difficult to persuade her to give herself wholly to her
lover, governed as she was by her wild and unreasoning affection
and passion. In a way, there was a saving element of love, for
truly, above all others, she wanted this man. She had no thought
or feeling toward any other. All her mind ran toward visions of
the future, when, somehow, she and he might be together for all
time. Mrs. Cowperwood might die, or he might run away with her at
thirty-five when he had a million. Some adjustment would be made,
somehow. Nature had given her this man. She relied on him
implicitly. When he told her that he would take care of her so
that nothing evil should befall, she believed him fully. Such
sins are the commonplaces of the confessional.
It is a curious fact that by some subtlety of logic in the Christian
world, it has come to be believed that there can be no love outside
the conventional process of courtship and marriage. One life, one
love, is the Christian idea, and into this sluice or mold it has
been endeavoring to compress the whole world. Pagan thought held
no such belief. A writing of divorce for trivial causes was the
theory of the elders; and in the primeval world nature apparently
holds no scheme for the unity of two beyond the temporary care of
the young. That the modern home is the most beautiful of schemes,
when based upon mutual sympathy and understanding between two, need
not be questioned. And yet this fact should not necessarily carry
with it a condemnation of all love not so fortunate as to find so
happy a denouement. Life cannot be put into any mold, and the
attempt might as well be abandoned at once. Those so fortunate as
to find harmonious companionship for life should congratulate
themselves and strive to be worthy of it. Those not so blessed,
though they be written down as pariahs, have yet some justification.
And, besides, whether we will or not, theory or no theory, the
basic facts of chemistry and physics remain. Like is drawn to like.
Changes in temperament bring changes in relationship. Dogma may
bind some minds; fear, others. But there are always those in whom
the chemistry and physics of life are large, and in whom neither
dogma nor fear is operative. Society lifts its hands in horror;
but from age to age the Helens, the Messalinas, the Du Barrys,
the Pompadours, the Maintenons, and the Nell Gwyns flourish and
point a freer basis of relationship than we have yet been able to
square with our lives.
These two felt unutterably bound to each other. Cowperwood, once
he came to understand her, fancied that he had found the one person
with whom he could live happily the rest of his life. She was so
young, so confident, so hopeful, so undismayed. All these months
since they had first begun to reach out to each other he had been
hourly contrasting her with his wife. As a matter of fact, his
dissatisfaction, though it may be said to have been faint up to
this time, was now surely tending to become real enough. Still,
his children were pleasing to him; his home beautiful. Lillian,
phlegmatic and now thin, was still not homely. All these years
he had found her satisfactory enough; but now his dissatisfaction
with her began to increase. She was not like Aileen--not young,
not vivid, not as unschooled in the commonplaces of life. And
while ordinarily, he was not one who was inclined to be querulous,
still now on occasion, he could be. He began by asking questions
concerning his wife's appearance--irritating little whys which
are so trivial and yet so exasperating and discouraging to a
woman. Why didn't she get a mauve hat nearer the shade of her
dress? Why didn't she go out more? Exercise would do her good.
Why didn't she do this, and why didn't she do that? He scarcely
noticed that he was doing this; but she did, and she felt the
undertone--the real significance--and took umbrage.
"Oh, why--why?" she retorted, one day, curtly. "Why do you ask
so many questions? You don't care so much for me any more; that's
why. I can tell."
He leaned back startled by the thrust. It had not been based on
any evidence of anything save his recent remarks; but he was not
absolutely sure. He was just the least bit sorry that he had
irritated her, and he said so.
"Oh, it's all right," she replied. "I don't care. But I notice
that you don't pay as much attention to me as you used to. It's
your business now, first, last, and all the time. You can't get
your mind off of that."
He breathed a sigh of relief. She didn't suspect, then.
But after a little time, as he grew more and more in sympathy
with Aileen, he was not so disturbed as to whether his wife might
suspect or not. He began to think on occasion, as his mind followed
the various ramifications of the situation, that it would be better
if she did. She was really not of the contentious fighting sort.
He now decided because of various calculations in regard to her
character that she might not offer as much resistance to some
ultimate rearrangement, as he had originally imagined. She might
even divorce him. Desire, dreams, even in him were evoking
calculations not as sound as those which ordinarily generated in
his brain.
No, as he now said to himself, the rub was not nearly so much in
his own home, as it was in the Butler family. His relations with
Edward Malia Butler had become very intimate. He was now advising
with him constantly in regard to the handling of his securities,
which were numerous. Butler held stocks in such things as the
Pennsylvania Coal Company, the Delaware and Hudson Canal, the
Morris and Essex Canal, the Reading Railroad. As the old gentleman's
mind had broadened to the significance of the local street-railway
problem in Philadelphia, he had decided to close out his other
securities at such advantageous terms as he could, and reinvest
the money in local lines. He knew that Mollenhauer and Simpson
were doing this, and they were excellent judges of the significance
of local affairs. Like Cowperwood, he had the idea that if he
controlled sufficient of the local situation in this field, he
could at last effect a joint relationship with Mollenhauer and
Simpson. Political legislation, advantageous to the combined lines,
could then be so easily secured. Franchises and necessary extensions
to existing franchises could be added. This conversion of his
outstanding stock in other fields, and the picking up of odd lots
in the local street-railway, was the business of Cowperwood.
Butler, through his sons, Owen and Callum, was also busy planning
a new line and obtaining a franchise, sacrificing, of course, great
blocks of stock and actual cash to others, in order to obtain
sufficient influence to have the necessary legislation passed.
Yet it was no easy matter, seeing that others knew what the general
advantages of the situation were, and because of this Cowperwood,
who saw the great source of profit here, was able, betimes, to
serve himself--buying blocks, a part of which only went to Butler,
Mollenhauer or others. In short he was not as eager to serve Butler,
or any one else, as he was to serve himself if he could.
In this connection, the scheme which George W. Stener had brought
forward, representing actually in the background Strobik, Wycroft,
and Harmon, was an opening wedge for himself. Stener's plan was
to loan him money out of the city treasury at two per cent., or,
if he would waive all commissions, for nothing (an agent for
self-protective purposes was absolutely necessary), and with it
take over the North Pennsylvania Company's line on Front Street,
which, because of the shortness of its length, one mile and a
half, and the brevity of the duration of its franchise, was
neither doing very well nor being rated very high. Cowperwood in
return for his manipulative skill was to have a fair proportion
of the stock--twenty per cent. Strobik and Wycroft knew the parties
from whom the bulk of the stock could be secured if engineered
properly. Their plan was then, with this borrowed treasury money,
to extend its franchise and then the line itself, and then later
again, by issuing a great block of stock and hypothecating it with
a favored bank, be able to return the principal to the city
treasury and pocket their profits from the line as earned. There
was no trouble in this, in so far as Cowperwood was concerned,
except that it divided the stock very badly among these various
individuals, and left him but a comparatively small share--for
his thought and pains.
But Cowperwood was an opportunist. And by this time his
financial morality had become special and local in its character.
He did not think it was wise for any one to steal anything from
anybody where the act of taking or profiting was directly and
plainly considered stealing. That was unwise--dangerous--hence
wrong. There were so many situations wherein what one might do
in the way of taking or profiting was open to discussion and doubt.
Morality varied, in his mind at least, with conditions, if not
climates. Here, in Philadelphia, the tradition (politically, mind
you--not generally) was that the city treasurer might use the money
of the city without interest so long as he returned the principal
intact. The city treasury and the city treasurer were like a
honey-laden hive and a queen bee around which the drones--the
politicians--swarmed in the hope of profit. The one disagreeable
thing in connection with this transaction with Stener was that
neither Butler, Mollenhauer nor Simpson, who were the actual
superiors of Stener and Strobik, knew anything about it. Stener
and those behind him were, through him, acting for themselves.
If the larger powers heard of this, it might alienate them. He
had to think of this. Still, if he refused to make advantageous
deals with Stener or any other man influential in local affairs,
he was cutting off his nose to spite his face, for other bankers
and brokers would, and gladly. And besides it was not at all
certain that Butler, Mollenhauer, and Simpson would ever hear.
In this connection, there was another line, which he rode on
occasionally, the Seventeenth and Nineteenth Street line, which
he felt was a much more interesting thing for him to think about,
if he could raise the money. It had been originally capitalized
for five hundred thousand dollars; but there had been a series of
bonds to the value of two hundred and fifty thousand dollars
added for improvements, and the company was finding great difficulty
in meeting the interest. The bulk of the stock was scattered
about among small investors, and it would require all of two
hundred and fifty thousand dollars to collect it and have himself
elected president or chairman of the board of directors. Once in,
however, he could vote this stock as he pleased, hypothecating it
meanwhile at his father's bank for as much as he could get, and
issuing more stocks with which to bribe legislators in the matter
of extending the line, and in taking up other opportunities to
either add to it by purchase or supplement it by working agreements.
The word "bribe" is used here in this matter-of-fact American way,
because bribery was what was in every one's mind in connection with
the State legislature. Terrence Relihan--the small, dark-faced
Irishman, a dandy in dress and manners--who represented the financial
interests at Harrisburg, and who had come to Cowperwood after the
five million bond deal had been printed, had told him that nothing
could be done at the capital without money, or its equivalent,
negotiable securities. Each significant legislator, if he yielded
his vote or his influence, must be looked after. If he, Cowperwood,
had any scheme which he wanted handled at any time, Relihan had
intimated to him that he would be glad to talk with him. Cowperwood
had figured on this Seventeenth and Nineteenth Street line scheme
more than once, but he had never felt quite sure that he was willing
to undertake it. His obligations in other directions were so large.
But the lure was there, and he pondered and pondered.
Stener's scheme of loaning him money wherewith to manipulate the
North Pennsylvania line deal put this Seventeenth and Nineteenth
Street dream in a more favorable light. As it was he was constantly
watching the certificates of loan issue, for the city treasury,
--buying large quantities when the market was falling to protect
it and selling heavily, though cautiously, when he saw it rising
and to do this he had to have a great deal of free money to permit
him to do it. He was constantly fearful of some break in the
market which would affect the value of all his securities and result
in the calling of his loans. There was no storm in sight. He did
not see that anything could happen in reason; but he did not want
to spread himself out too thin. As he saw it now, therefore if
he took one hundred and fifty thousand dollars of this city money
and went after this Seventeenth and Nineteenth Street matter it
would not mean that he was spreading himself out too thin, for
because of this new proposition could he not call on Stener for
more as a loan in connection with these other ventures? But if
anything should happen--well--
"Frank," said Stener, strolling into his office one afternoon
after four o'clock when the main rush of the day's work was over
--the relationship between Cowperwood and Stener had long since
reached the "Frank" and "George" period--"Strobik thinks he has
that North Pennsylvania deal arranged so that we can take it up
if we want to. The principal stockholder, we find, is a man by
the name of Coltan--not Ike Colton, but Ferdinand. How's that
for a name?" Stener beamed fatly and genially.
Things had changed considerably for him since the days when he
had been fortuitously and almost indifferently made city treasurer.
His method of dressing had so much improved since he had been
inducted into office, and his manner expressed so much more good
feeling, confidence, aplomb, that he would not have recognized
himself if he had been permitted to see himself as had those who
had known him before. An old, nervous shifting of the eyes had
almost ceased, and a feeling of restfulness, which had previously
been restlessness, and had sprung from a sense of necessity, had
taken its place. His large feet were incased in good, square-toed,
soft-leather shoes; his stocky chest and fat legs were made somewhat
agreeable to the eye by a well-cut suit of brownish-gray cloth;
and his neck was now surrounded by a low, wing-point white collar
and brown-silk tie. His ample chest, which spread out a little
lower in around and constantly enlarging stomach, was ornamented
by a heavy-link gold chain, and his white cuffs had large gold
cuff-buttons set with rubies of a very notable size. He was rosy
and decidedly well fed. In fact, he was doing very well indeed.
He had moved his family from a shabby two-story frame house in South
Ninth Street to a very comfortable brick one three stories in height,
and three times as large, on Spring Garden Street. His wife had a
few acquaintances--the wives of other politicians. His children
were attending the high school, a thing he had hardly hoped for
in earlier days. He was now the owner of fourteen or fifteen
pieces of cheap real estate in different portions of the city,
which might eventually become very valuable, and he was a silent
partner in the South Philadelphia Foundry Company and the American
Beef and Pork Company, two corporations on paper whose principal
business was subletting contracts secured from the city to the
humble butchers and foundrymen who would carry out orders as given
and not talk too much or ask questions.
"Well, that is an odd name," said Cowperwood, blandly. "So he has
it? I never thought that road would pay, as it was laid out. It's
too short. It ought to run about three miles farther out into the
Kensington section."
"You're right," said Stener, dully.
"Did Strobik say what Colton wants for his shares?"
"Sixty-eight, I think."
"The current market rate. He doesn't want much, does he? Well,
George, at that rate it will take about"--he calculated quickly
on the basis of the number of shares Cotton was holding--"one
hundred and twenty thousand to get him out alone. That isn't all.
There's Judge Kitchen and Joseph Zimmerman and Senator Donovan"--
he was referring to the State senator of that name. "You'll be
paying a pretty fair price for that stud when you get it. It will
cost considerable more to extend the line. It's too much, I think."
Cowperwood was thinking how easy it would be to combine this line
with his dreamed-of Seventeenth and Nineteenth Street line, and
after a time and with this in view he added:
"Say, George, why do you work all your schemes through Strobik
and Harmon and Wycroft? Couldn't you and I manage some of these
things for ourselves alone instead of for three or four? It seems
to me that plan would be much more profitable to you."
"It would, it would!" exclaimed Stener, his round eyes fixed on
Cowperwood in a rather helpless, appealing way. He liked
Cowperwood and had always been hoping that mentally as well as
financially he could get close to him. "I've thought of that. But
these fellows have had more experience in these matters than I
have had, Frank. They've been longer at the game. I don't know
as much about these things as they do."
Cowperwood smiled in his soul, though his face remained passive.
"Don't worry about them, George," he continued genially and
confidentially. "You and I together can know and do as much as
they ever could and more. I'm telling you. Take this railroad
deal you're in on now, George; you and I could manipulate that
just as well and better than it can be done with Wycroft, Strobik,
and Harmon in on it. They're not adding anything to the wisdom of
the situation. They're not putting up any money. You're doing
that. All they're doing is agreeing to see it through the
legislature and the council, and as far as the legislature is
concerned, they can't do any more with that than any one else
could--than I could, for instance. It's all a question of arranging
things with Relihan, anyhow, putting up a certain amount of money
for him to work with. Here in town there are other people who can
reach the council just as well as Strobik." He was thinking (once
he controlled a road of his own) of conferring with Butler and
getting him to use his influence. It would serve to quiet Strobik
and his friends. "I'm not asking you to change your plans on this
North Pennsylvania deal. You couldn't do that very well. But there
are other things. In the future why not let's see if you and I
can't work some one thing together? You'll be much better off, and
so will I. We've done pretty well on the city-loan proposition
so far, haven't we?"
The truth was, they had done exceedingly well. Aside from what
the higher powers had made, Stener's new house, his lots, his
bank-account, his good clothes, and his changed and comfortable
sense of life were largely due to Cowperwood's successful
manipulation of these city-loan certificates. Already there had
been four issues of two hundred thousand dollars each. Cowperwood
had bought and sold nearly three million dollars' worth of these
certificates, acting one time as a "bull" and another as a "bear."
Stener was now worth all of one hundred and fifty thousand dollars.
"There's a line that I know of here in the city which could be made
into a splendidly paying property," continued Cowperwood, meditatively,
"if the right things could be done with it. Just like this North
Pennsylvania line, it isn't long enough. The territory it serves
isn't big enough. It ought to be extended; but if you and I could
get it, it might eventually be worked with this North Pennsylvania
Company or some other as one company. That would save officers and
offices and a lot of things. There is always money to be made out
of a larger purchasing power."
He paused and looked out the window of his handsome little hardwood
office, speculating upon the future. The window gave nowhere save
into a back yard behind another office building which had formerly
been a residence. Some grass grew feebly there. The red wall and
old-fashioned brick fence which divided it from the next lot
reminded him somehow of his old home in New Market Street, to which
his Uncle Seneca used to come as a Cuban trader followed by his
black Portuguese servitor. He could see him now as he sat here
looking at the yard.
"Well," asked Stener, ambitiously, taking the bait, "why don't
we get hold of that--you and me? I suppose I could fix it so far
as the money is concerned. How much would it take?"
Cowperwood smiled inwardly again.
"I don't know exactly," he said, after a time. "I want to look
into it more carefully. The one trouble is that I'm carrying a
good deal of the city's money as it is. You see, I have that two
hundred thousand dollars against your city-loan deals. And this
new scheme will take two or three hundred thousand more. If that
were out of the way--"
He was thinking of one of the inexplicable stock panics--those
strange American depressions which had so much to do with the
temperament of the people, and so little to do with the basic
conditions of the country. "If this North Pennsylvania deal were
through and done with--"
He rubbed his chin and pulled at his handsome silky mustache.
"Don't ask me any more about it, George," he said, finally, as
he saw that the latter was beginning to think as to which line
it might be. "Don't say anything at all about it. I want to
get my facts exactly right, and then I'll talk to you. I think
you and I can do this thing a little later, when we get the North
Pennsylvania scheme under way. I'm so rushed just now I'm not
sure that I want to undertake it at once; but you keep quiet and
we'll see." He turned toward his desk, and Stener got up.
"I'll make any sized deposit with you that you wish, the moment
you think you're ready to act, Frank," exclaimed Stener, and with
the thought that Cowperwood was not nearly as anxious to do this
as he should be, since he could always rely on him (Stener) when
there was anything really profitable in the offing. Why should
not the able and wonderful Cowperwood be allowed to make the two
of them rich? "Just notify Stires, and he'll send you a check.
Strobik thought we ought to act pretty soon."
"I'll tend to it, George," replied Cowperwood, confidently. "It
will come out all right. Leave it to me."
Stener kicked his stout legs to straighten his trousers, and
extended his hand. He strolled out in the street thinking of
this new scheme. Certainly, if he could get in with Cowperwood
right he would be a rich man, for Cowperwood was so successful
and so cautious. His new house, this beautiful banking office,
his growing fame, and his subtle connections with Butler and others
put Stener in considerable awe of him. Another line! They would
control it and the North Pennsylvania! Why, if this went on, he
might become a magnate--he really might--he, George W. Stener,
once a cheap real-estate and insurance agent. He strolled up the
street thinking, but with no more idea of the importance of his
civic duties and the nature of the social ethics against which
he was offending than if they had never existed. _