________________________________________________
_ It was in the face of this very altered situation that Cowperwood
arrived at Stener's office late this Monday afternoon.
Stener was quite alone, worried and distraught. He was anxious
to see Cowperwood, and at the same time afraid.
"George," began Cowperwood, briskly, on seeing him, "I haven't
much time to spare now, but I've come, finally, to tell you that
you'll have to let me have three hundred thousand more if you don't
want me to fail. Things are looking very bad today. They've
caught me in a corner on my loans; but this storm isn't going to
last. You can see by the very character of it that it can't."
He was looking at Stener's face, and seeing fear and a pained and
yet very definite necessity for opposition written there. "Chicago
is burning, but it will be built up again. Business will be all
the better for it later on. Now, I want you to be reasonable and
help me. Don't get frightened."
Stener stirred uneasily. "Don't let these politicians scare you
to death. It will all blow over in a few days, and then we'll be
better off than ever. Did you see Mollenhauer?"
"Yes."
"Well, what did he have to say?"
"He said just what I thought he'd say. He won't let me do this.
I can't, Frank, I tell you!" exclaimed Stener, jumping up. He was
so nervous that he had had a hard time keeping his seat during this
short, direct conversation. "I can't! They've got me in a corner!
They're after me! They all know what we've been doing. Oh, say,
Frank"--he threw up his arms wildly--"you've got to get me out of
this. You've got to let me have that five hundred thousand back
and get me out of this. If you don't, and you should fail, they'll
send me to the penitentiary. I've got a wife and four children,
Frank. I can't go on in this. It's too big for me. I never
should have gone in on it in the first place. I never would have
if you hadn't persuaded me, in a way. I never thought when I began
that I would ever get in as bad as all this. I can't go on, Frank.
I can't! I'm willing you should have all my stock. Only give me
back that five hundred thousand, and we'll call it even." His
voice rose nervously as he talked, and he wiped his wet forehead
with his hand and stared at Cowperwood pleadingly, foolishly.
Cowperwood stared at him in return for a few moments with a cold,
fishy eye. He knew a great deal about human nature, and he was
ready for and expectant of any queer shift in an individual's
attitude, particularly in time of panic; but this shift of Stener's
was quite too much. "Whom else have you been talking to, George,
since I saw you? Whom have you seen? What did Sengstack have to
say?"
"He says just what Mollenhauer does, that I mustn't loan any more
money under any circumstances, and he says I ought to get that
five hundred thousand back as quickly as possible."
"And you think Mollenhauer wants to help you, do you?" inquired
Cowperwood, finding it hard to efface the contempt which kept
forcing itself into his voice.
"I think he does, yes. I don't know who else will, Frank, if he
don't. He's one of the big political forces in this town."
"Listen to me," began Cowperwood, eyeing him fixedly. Then he
paused. "What did he say you should do about your holdings?"
"Sell them through Tighe & Company and put the money back in the
treasury, if you won't take them."
"Sell them to whom?" asked Cowperwood, thinking of Stener's last
words.
"To any one on 'change who'll take them, I suppose. I don't know."
"I thought so," said Cowperwood, comprehendingly. "I might have
known as much. They're working you, George. They're simply trying
to get your stocks away from you. Mollenhauer is leading you on.
He knows I can't do what you want--give you back the five hundred
thousand dollars. He wants you to throw your stocks on the market
so that he can pick them up. Depend on it, that's all arranged for
already. When you do, he's got me in his clutches, or he thinks
he has--he and Butler and Simpson. They want to get together on
this local street-railway situation, and I know it, I feel it.
I've felt it coming all along. Mollenhauer hasn't any more intention
of helping you than he has of flying. Once you've sold your stocks
he's through with you--mark my word. Do you think he'll turn a
hand to keep you out of the penitentiary once you're out of this
street-railway situation? He will not. And if you think so, you're
a bigger fool than I take you to be, George. Don't go crazy.
Don't lose your head. Be sensible. Look the situation in the
face. Let me explain it to you. If you don't help me now--if
you don't let me have three hundred thousand dollars by to-morrow
noon, at the very latest, I'm through, and so are you. There is
not a thing the matter with our situation. Those stocks of ours
are as good to-day as they ever were. Why, great heavens, man,
the railways are there behind them. They're paying. The Seventeenth
and Nineteenth Street line is earning one thousand dollars a day
right now. What better evidence do you want than that? Green &
Coates is earning five hundred dollars. You're frightened, George.
These damned political schemers have scared you. Why, you've as
good a right to loan that money as Bode and Murtagh had before you.
They did it. You've been doing it for Mollenhauer and the others,
only so long as you do it for them it's all right. What's a
designated city depository but a loan?"
Cowperwood was referring to the system under which certain portions
of city money, like the sinking-fund, were permitted to be kept in
certain banks at a low rate of interest or no rate--banks in which
Mollenhauer and Butler and Simpson were interested. This was their
safe graft.
"Don't throw your chances away, George. Don't quit now. You'll
be worth millions in a few years, and you won't have to turn a hand.
All you will have to do will be to keep what you have. If you don't
help me, mark my word, they'll throw you over the moment I'm out
of this, and they'll let you go to the penitentiary. Who's going
to put up five hundred thousand dollars for you, George? Where is
Mollenhauer going to get it, or Butler, or anybody, in these times?
They can't. They don't intend to. When I'm through, you're
through, and you'll be exposed quicker than any one else. They
can't hurt me, George. I'm an agent. I didn't ask you to come
to me. You came to me in the first place of your own accord. If
you don't help me, you're through, I tell you, and you're going
to be sent to the penitentiary as sure as there are jails. Why
don't you take a stand, George? Why don't you stand your ground?
You have your wife and children to look after. You can't be any
worse off loaning me three hundred thousand more than you are right
now. What difference does it make--five hundred thousand or eight
hundred thousand? It's all one and the same thing, if you're going
to be tried for it. Besides, if you loan me this, there isn't
going to be any trial. I'm not going to fail. This storm will
blow over in a week or ten days, and we'll be rich again. For
Heaven's sake, George, don't go to pieces this way! Be sensible!
Be reasonable!"
He paused, for Stener's face had become a jelly-like mass of woe.
"I can't, Frank," he wailed. "I tell you I can't. They'll
punish me worse than ever if I do that. They'll never let up on
me. You don't know these people."
In Stener's crumpling weakness Cowperwood read his own fate. What
could you do with a man like that? How brace him up? You couldn't!
And with a gesture of infinite understanding, disgust, noble
indifference, he threw up his hands and started to walk out. At
the door he turned.
"George," he said, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for you, not for myself.
I'll come out of things all right, eventually. I'll be rich. But,
George, you're making the one great mistake of your life. You'll
be poor; you'll be a convict, and you'll have only yourself to
blame. There isn't a thing the matter with this money situation
except the fire. There isn't a thing wrong with my affairs except
this slump in stocks--this panic. You sit there, a fortune in your
hands, and you allow a lot of schemers, highbinders, who don't know
any more of your affairs or mine than a rabbit, and who haven't
any interest in you except to plan what they can get out of you,
to frighten you and prevent you from doing the one thing that will
save your life. Three hundred thousand paltry dollars that in
three or four weeks from now I can pay back to you four and five
times over, and for that you will see me go broke and yourself to
the penitentiary. I can't understand it, George. You're out of
your mind. You're going to rue this the longest day that you live."
He waited a few moments to see if this, by any twist of chance,
would have any effect; then, noting that Stener still remained a
wilted, helpless mass of nothing, he shook his head gloomily and
walked out.
It was the first time in his life that Cowperwood had ever shown
the least sign of weakening or despair. He had felt all along as
though there were nothing to the Greek theory of being pursued by
the furies. Now, however, there seemed an untoward fate which was
pursuing him. It looked that way. Still, fate or no fate, he did
not propose to be daunted. Even in this very beginning of a
tendency to feel despondent he threw back his head, expanded his
chest, and walked as briskly as ever.
In the large room outside Stener's private office he encountered
Albert Stires, Stener's chief clerk and secretary. He and Albert
had exchanged many friendly greetings in times past, and all the
little minor transactions in regard to city loan had been discussed
between them, for Albert knew more of the intricacies of finance
and financial bookkeeping than Stener would ever know.
At the sight of Stires the thought in regard to the sixty thousand
dollars' worth of city loan certificates, previously referred to,
flashed suddenly through his mind. He had not deposited them in
the sinking-fund, and did not intend to for the present--could not,
unless considerable free money were to reach him shortly--for he
had used them to satisfy other pressing demands, and had no free
money to buy them back--or, in other words, release them. And he
did not want to just at this moment. Under the law governing
transactions of this kind with the city treasurer, he was supposed
to deposit them at once to the credit of the city, and not to draw
his pay therefor from the city treasurer until he had. To be very
exact, the city treasurer, under the law, was not supposed to pay
him for any transaction of this kind until he or his agents presented
a voucher from the bank or other organization carrying the
sinking-fund for the city showing that the certificates so purchased
had actually been deposited there. As a matter of fact, under the
custom which had grown up between him and Stener, the law had long
been ignored in this respect. He could buy certificates of city
loan for the sinking-fund up to any reasonable amount, hypothecate
them where he pleased, and draw his pay from the city without
presenting a voucher. At the end of the month sufficient certificates
of city loan could usually be gathered from one source and another
to make up the deficiency, or the deficiency could actually be
ignored, as had been done on more than one occasion, for long
periods of time, while he used money secured by hypothecating the
shares for speculative purposes. This was actually illegal; but
neither Cowperwood nor Stener saw it in that light or cared.
The trouble with this particular transaction was the note that he
had received from Stener ordering him to stop both buying and
selling, which put his relations with the city treasury on a very
formal basis. He had bought these certificates before receiving
this note, but had not deposited them. He was going now to collect
his check; but perhaps the old, easy system of balancing matters
at the end of the month might not be said to obtain any longer.
Stires might ask him to present a voucher of deposit. If so, he
could not now get this check for sixty thousand dollars, for he
did not have the certificates to deposit. If not, he might get
the money; but, also, it might constitute the basis of some subsequent
legal action. If he did not eventually deposit the certificates
before failure, some charge such as that of larceny might be brought
against him. Still, he said to himself, he might not really fail
even yet. If any of his banking associates should, for any reason,
modify their decision in regard to calling his loans, he would not.
Would Stener make a row about this if he so secured this check? Would
the city officials pay any attention to him if he did? Could you
get any district attorney to take cognizance of such a transaction,
if Stener did complain? No, not in all likelihood; and, anyhow,
nothing would come of it. No jury would punish him in the face of
the understanding existing between him and Stener as agent or broker
and principal. And, once he had the money, it was a hundred to
one Stener would think no more about it. It would go in among the
various unsatisfied liabilities, and nothing more would be thought
about it. Like lightning the entire situation hashed through his
mind. He would risk it. He stopped before the chief clerk's desk.
"Albert," he said, in a low voice, "I bought sixty thousand dollars'
worth of city loan for the sinking-fund this morning. Will you
give my boy a check for it in the morning, or, better yet, will
you give it to me now? I got your note about no more purchases.
I'm going back to the office. You can just credit the sinking-fund
with eight hundred certificates at from seventy-five to eighty.
I'll send you the itemized list later."
"Certainly, Mr. Cowperwood, certainly," replied Albert, with
alacrity. "Stocks are getting an awful knock, aren't they? I
hope you're not very much troubled by it?"
"Not very, Albert," replied Cowperwood, smiling, the while the
chief clerk was making out his check. He was wondering if by any
chance Stener would appear and attempt to interfere with this. It
was a legal transaction. He had a right to the check provided he
deposited the certificates, as was his custom, with the trustee of
the fund. He waited tensely while Albert wrote, and finally, with
the check actually in his hand, breathed a sigh of relief. Here,
at least, was sixty thousand dollars, and to-night's work would
enable him to cash the seventy-five thousand that had been promised
him. To-morrow, once more he must see Leigh, Kitchen, Jay Cooke &
Co., Edward Clark & Co.--all the long list of people to whom he
owed loans and find out what could be done. If he could only get
time! If he could get just a week! _
Read next: CHAPTER 29
Read previous: CHAPTER 27
Table of content of Financier
GO TO TOP OF SCREEN
Post your review
Your review will be placed after the table of content of this book
