________________________________________________
_ The significance of this visit was not long in manifesting itself.
At the top, in large affairs, life goes off into almost inexplicable
tangles of personalities. Mr. McKenty, now that the matter had
been called to his attention, was interested to learn about this
gas situation from all sides--whether it might not be more profitable
to deal with the Schryhart end of the argument, and so on. But
his eventual conclusion was that Cowperwood's plan, as he had
outlined it, was the most feasible for political purposes, largely
because the Schryhart faction, not being in a position where they
needed to ask the city council for anything at present, were so
obtuse as to forget to make overtures of any kind to the bucaneering
forces at the City Hall.
When Cowperwood next came to McKenty's house the latter was in a
receptive frame of mind. "Well," he said, after a few genial
preliminary remarks, "I've been learning what's going on. Your
proposition is fair enough. Organize your company, and arrange
your plan conditionally. Then introduce your ordinance, and we'll
see what can be done." They went into a long, intimate discussion
as to how the forthcoming stock should be divided, how it was to
be held in escrow by a favorite bank of Mr. McKenty's until the
terms of the agreement under the eventual affiliation with the old
companies or the new union company should be fulfilled, and details
of that sort. It was rather a complicated arrangement, not as
satisfactory to Cowperwood as it might have been, but satisfactory
in that it permitted him to win. It required the undivided services
of General Van Sickle, Henry De Soto Sippens, Kent Barrows McKibben,
and Alderman Dowling for some little time. But finally all was in
readiness for the coup.
On a certain Monday night, therefore, following the Thursday on
which, according to the rules of the city council, an ordinance
of this character would have to be introduced, the plan, after
being publicly broached but this very little while, was quickly
considered by the city council and passed. There had been really
no time for public discussion. This was just the thing, of course,
that Cowperwood and McKenty were trying to avoid. On the day
following the particular Thursday on which the ordinance had been
broached in council as certain to be brought up for passage,
Schryhart, through his lawyers and the officers of the old individual
gas companies, had run to the newspapers and denounced the whole
thing as plain robbery; but what were they to do? There was so
little time for agitation. True the newspapers, obedient to this
larger financial influence, began to talk of "fair play to the old
companies," and the uselessness of two large rival companies in
the field when one would serve as well. Still the public, instructed
or urged by the McKenty agents to the contrary, were not prepared
to believe it. They had not been so well treated by the old
companies as to make any outcry on their behalf.
Standing outside the city council door, on the Monday evening when
the bill was finally passed, Mr. Samuel Blackman, president of the
South Side Gas Company, a little, wispy man with shoe-brush whiskers,
declared emphatically:
"This is a scoundrelly piece of business. If the mayor signs that
he should be impeached. There is not a vote in there to-night
that has not been purchased--not one. This is a fine element of
brigandage to introduce into Chicago; why, people who have worked
years and years to build up a business are not safe!"
"It's true, every word of it," complained Mr. Jordan Jules, president
of the North Side company, a short, stout man with a head like an
egg lying lengthwise, a mere fringe of hair, and hard, blue eyes.
He was with Mr. Hudson Baker, tall and ambling, who was president
of the West Chicago company. All of these had come to protest.
"It's that scoundrel from Philadelphia. He's the cause of all our
troubles. It's high time the respectable business element of
Chicago realized just what sort of a man they have to deal with
in him. He ought to be driven out of here. Look at his Philadelphia
record. They sent him to the penitentiary down there, and they
ought to do it here."
Mr. Baker, very recently the guest of Schryhart, and his henchman,
too, was also properly chagrined. "The man is a charlatan," he
protested to Blackman. "He doesn't play fair. It is plain that
he doesn't belong in respectable society."
Nevertheless, and in spite of this, the ordinance was passed. It
was a bitter lesson for Mr. Norman Schryhart, Mr. Norrie Simms,
and all those who had unfortunately become involved. A committee
composed of all three of the old companies visited the mayor; but
the latter, a tool of McKenty, giving his future into the hands
of the enemy, signed it just the same. Cowperwood had his franchise,
and, groan as they might, it was now necessary, in the language
of a later day, "to step up and see the captain." Only Schryhart
felt personally that his score with Cowperwood was not settled.
He would meet him on some other ground later. The next time he
would try to fight fire with fire. But for the present, shrewd
man that he was, he was prepared to compromise.
Thereafter, dissembling his chagrin as best he could, he kept on
the lookout for Cowperwood at both of the clubs of which he was a
member; but Cowperwood had avoided them during this period of
excitement, and Mahomet wouid have to go to the mountain. So one
drowsy June afternoon Mr. Schryhart called at Cowperwood's office.
He had on a bright, new, steel-gray suit and a straw hat. From
his pocket, according to the fashion of the time, protruded a neat,
blue-bordered silk handkerchief, and his feet were immaculate in
new, shining Oxford ties.
"I'm sailing for Europe in a few days, Mr. Cowperwood," he remarked,
genially, "and I thought I'd drop round to see if you and I could
reach some agreement in regard to this gas situation. The officers
of the old companies naturally feel that they do not care to have
a rival in the field, and I'm sure that you are not interested in
carrying on a useless rate war that won't leave anybody any profit.
I recall that you were willing to compromise on a half-and-half
basis with me before, and I was wondering whether you were still
of that mind."
"Sit down, sit down, Mr. Schryhart," remarked Cowperwood, cheerfully,
waving the new-comer to a chair. "I'm pleased to see you again.
No, I'm no more anxious for a rate war than you are. As a matter
of fact, I hope to avoid it; but, as you see, things have changed
somewhat since I saw you. The gentlemen who have organized and
invested their money in this new city gas company are perfectly
willing--rather anxious, in fact--to go on and establish a legitimate
business. They feel all the confidence in the world that they can
do this, and I agree with them. A compromise might be effected
between the old and the new companies, but not on the basis on
which I was willing to settle some time ago. A new company has
been organized since then, stock issued, and a great deal of money
expended." (This was not true.) "That stock will have to figure
in any new agreement. I think a general union of all the companies
is desirable, but it will have to be on a basis of one, two, three,
or four shares--whatever is decided--at par for all stock involved."
Mr. Schryhart pulled a long face. "Don't you think that's rather
steep?" he said, solemnly.
"Not at all, not at all!" replied Cowperwood. "You know these new
expenditures were not undertaken voluntarily." (The irony of this
did not escape Mr. Schryhart, but he said nothing.)
"I admit all that, but don't you think, since your shares are worth
practically nothing at present, that you ought to be satisfied if
they were accepted at par?"
"I can't see why," replied Cowperwood. "Our future prospects are
splendid. There must be an even adjustment here or nothing. What
I want to know is how much treasury stock you would expect to have
in the safe for the promotion of this new organization after all
the old stockholders have been satisfied?"
"Well, as I thought before, from thirty to forty per cent. of the
total issue," replied Schryhart, still hopeful of a profitable
adjustment. "I should think it could be worked on that basis."
"And who gets that?"
"Why, the organizer," said Schryhart, evasively. "Yourself, perhaps,
and myself."
"And how would you divide it? Half and half, as before?"
"I should think that would be fair."
"It isn't enough," returned Cowperwood, incisively. "Since I
talked to you last I have been compelled to shoulder obligations
and make agreements which I did not anticipate then. The best I
can do now is to accept three-fourths."
Schryhart straightened up determinedly and offensively. This was
outrageous, he thought, impossible! The effrontery of it!
"It can never be done, Mr. Cowperwood," he replied, forcefully.
"You are trying to unload too much worthless stock on the company
as it is. The old companies' stock is selling right now, as you
know, for from one-fifty to two-ten. Your stock is worth nothing.
If you are to be given two or three for one for that, and
three-fourths of the remainder in the treasury, I for one want
nothing to do with the deal. You would be in control of the
company, and it will be water-logged, at that. Talk about getting
something for nothing! The best I would suggest to the stockholders
of the old companies would be half and half. And I may say to you
frankly, although you may not believe it, that the old companies
will not join in with you in any scheme that gives you control.
They are too much incensed. Feeling is running too high. It will
mean a long, expensive fight, and they will never compromise.
Now, if you have anything really reasonable to offer I would be
glad to hear it. Otherwise I am afraid these negotiations are not
going to come to anything."
"Share and share alike, and three-fourths of the remainder,"
repeated Cowperwood, grimly. "I do not want to control. If they
want to raise the money and buy me out on that basis I am willing
to sell. I want a decent return for investments I have made, and
I am going to have it. I cannot speak for the others behind me,
but as long as they deal through me that is what they will expect."
Mr. Schryhart went angrily away. He was exceedingly wroth. This
proposition as Cowperwood now outlined it was bucaneering at its
best. He proposed for himself to withdraw from the old companies
if necessary, to close out his holdings and let the old companies
deal with Cowperwood as best they could. So long as he had anything
to do with it, Cowperwood should never gain control of the gas
situation. Better to take him at his suggestion, raise the money
and buy him out, even at an exorbitant figure. Then the old gas
companies could go along and do business in their old-fashioned
way without being disturbed. This bucaneer! This upstart! What a
shrewd, quick, forceful move he had made! It irritated Mr. Schryhart
greatly.
The end of all this was a compromise in which Cowperwood accepted
one-half of the surplus stock of the new general issue, and two
for one of every share of stock for which his new companies had
been organized, at the same time selling out to the old companies
--clearing out completely. It was a most profitable deal, and he
was enabled to provide handsomely not only for Mr. McKenty and
Addison, but for all the others connected with him. It was a
splendid coup, as McKenty and Addison assured him. Having now
done so much, he began to turn his eyes elsewhere for other fields
to conquer.
But this victory in one direction brought with it corresponding
reverses in another: the social future of Cowperwood and Aileen
was now in great jeopardy. Schryhart, who was a force socially,
having met with defeat at the hands of Cowperwood, was now bitterly
opposed to him. Norrie Simms naturally sided with his old associates.
But the worst blow came through Mrs. Anson Merrill. Shortly after
the housewarming, and when the gas argument and the conspiracy
charges were rising to their heights, she had been to New York and
had there chanced to encounter an old acquaintance of hers, Mrs.
Martyn Walker, of Philadelphia, one of the circle which Cowperwood
once upon a time had been vainly ambitious to enter. Mrs. Merrill,
aware of the interest the Cowperwoods had aroused in Mrs. Simms
and others, welcomed the opportunity to find out something definite.
"By the way, did you ever chance to hear of a Frank Algernon
Cowperwood or his wife in Philadelphia?" she inquired of Mrs.
Walker.
"Why, my dear Nellie," replied her friend, nonplussed that a woman
so smart as Mrs. Merrill should even refer to them, "have those
people established themselves in Chicago? His career in Philadelphia
was, to say the least, spectacular. He was connected with a city
treasurer there who stole five hundred thousand dollars, and they
both went to the penitentiary. That wasn't the worst of it! He
became intimate with some young girl--a Miss Butler, the sister
of Owen Butler, by the way, who is now such a power down there,
and--" She merely lifted her eyes. "While he was in the penitentiary
her father died and the family broke up. I even heard it rumored
that the old gentleman killed himself." (She was referring to
Aileen's father, Edward Malia Butler.) "When he came out of the
penitentiary Cowperwood disappeared, and I did hear some one say
that he had gone West, and divorced his wife and married again.
His first wife is still living in Philadelphia somewhere with his
two children."
Mrs. Merrill was properly astonished, but she did not show it.
"Quite an interesting story, isn't it?" she commented, distantly,
thinking how easy it would be to adjust the Cowperwood situation,
and how pleased she was that she had never shown any interest in
them. "Did you ever see her--his new wife?"
"I think so, but I forget where. I believe she used to ride and
drive a great deal in Philadelphia."
"Did she have red hair?"
"Oh yes. She was a very striking blonde."
"I fancy it must be the same person. They have been in the papers
recently in Chicago. I wanted to be sure."
Mrs. Merrill was meditating some fine comments to be made in the
future.
"I suppose now they're trying to get into Chicago society?" Mrs.
Walker smiled condescendingly and contemptuously--as much at Chicago
society as at the Cowperwoods.
"It's possible that they might attempt something like that in the
East and succeed--I'm sure I don't know," replied Mrs. Merrill,
caustically, resenting the slur, "but attempting and achieving are
quite different things in Chicago."
The answer was sufficient. It ended the discussion. When next
Mrs. Simms was rash enough to mention the Cowperwoods, or, rather,
the peculiar publicity in connection with him, her future viewpoint
was definitely fixed for her.
"If you take my advice," commented Mrs. Merrill, finally, "the
less you have to do with these friends of yours the better. I
know all about them. You might have seen that from the first.
They can never be accepted."
Mrs. Merrill did not trouble to explain why, but Mrs. Simms through
her husband soon learned the whole truth, and she was righteously
indignant and even terrified. Who was to blame for this sort of
thing, anyhow? she thought. Who had introduced them? The Addisons,
of course. But the Addisons were socially unassailable, if not
all-powerful, and so the best had to be made of that. But the
Cowperwoods could be dropped from the lists of herself and her
friends instantly, and that was now done. A sudden slump in their
social significance began to manifest itself, though not so swiftly
but what for the time being it was slightly deceptive.
The first evidence of change which Aileen observed was when the
customary cards and invitations for receptions and the like, which
had come to them quite freely of late, began to decline sharply
in number, and when the guests to her own Wednesday afternoons,
which rather prematurely she had ventured to establish, became a
mere negligible handful. At first she could not understand this,
not being willing to believe that, following so soon upon her
apparent triumph as a hostess in her own home, there could be so
marked a decline in her local importance. Of a possible seventy-five
or fifty who might have called or left cards, within three weeks
after the housewarming only twenty responded. A week later it had
declined to ten, and within five weeks, all told, there was scarcely
a caller. It is true that a very few of the unimportant--those who
had looked to her for influence and the self-protecting Taylor Lord
and Kent McKibben, who were commercially obligated to Cowperwood
--were still faithful, but they were really worse than nothing.
Aileen was beside herself with disappointment, opposition, chagrin,
shame. There are many natures, rhinoceros-bided and iron-souled,
who can endure almost any rebuff in the hope of eventual victory,
who are almost too thick-skinned to suffer, but hers was not one
of these. Already, in spite of her original daring in regard to
the opinion of society and the rights of the former Mrs. Cowperwood,
she was sensitive on the score of her future and what her past
might mean to her. Really her original actions could be attributed
to her youthful passion and the powerful sex magnetism of Cowperwood.
Under more fortunate circumstances she would have married safely
enough and without the scandal which followed. As it was now, her
social future here needed to end satisfactorily in order to justify
herself to herself, and, she thought, to him.
"You may put the sandwiches in the ice-box," she said to Louis,
the butler, after one of the earliest of the "at home" failures,
referring to the undue supply of pink-and-blue-ribboned titbits
which, uneaten, honored some fine Sevres with their presence.
"Send the flowers to the hospital. The servants may drink the
claret cup and lemonade. Keep some of the cakes fresh for dinner."
The butler nodded his head. "Yes, Madame," he said. Then, by way
of pouring oil on what appeared to him to be a troubled situation,
he added: "Eet's a rough day. I suppose zat has somepsing to do
weeth it."
Aileen was aflame in a moment. She was about to exclaim: "Mind
your business!" but changed her mind. "Yes, I presume so," was
her answer, as she ascended to her room. If a single poor "at
home" was to be commented on by servants, things were coming to a
pretty pass. She waited until the next week to see whether this
was the weather or a real change in public sentiment. It was worse
than the one before. The singers she had engaged had to be dismissed
without performing the service for which they had come. Kent
McKibben and Taylor Lord, very well aware of the rumors now flying
about, called, but in a remote and troubled spirit. Aileen saw
that, too. An affair of this kind, with only these two and Mrs.
Webster Israels and Mrs. Henry Huddlestone calling, was a sad
indication of something wrong. She had to plead illness and excuse
herself. The third week, fearing a worse defeat than before,
Aileen pretended to be ill. She would see how many cards were left.
There were just three. That was the end. She realized that her
"at homes" were a notable failure.
At the same time Cowperwood was not to be spared his share in the
distrust and social opposition which was now rampant.
His first inkling of the true state of affairs came in connection
with a dinner which, on the strength of an old invitation, they
unfortunately attended at a time when Aileen was still uncertain.
It had been originally arranged by the Sunderland Sledds, who
were not so much socially, and who at the time it occurred were
as yet unaware of the ugly gossip going about, or at least of
society's new attitude toward the Cowperwoods. At this time it
was understood by nearly all--the Simms, Candas, Cottons, and
Kingslands--that a great mistake had been made, and that the
Cowperwoods were by no means admissible.
To this particular dinner a number of people, whom the latter knew,
had been invited. Uniformly all, when they learned or recalled
that the Cowperwoods were expected, sent eleventh-hour regrets
--"so sorry." Outside the Sledds there was only one other couple
--the Stanislau Hoecksemas, for whom the Cowperwoods did not
particularly care. It was a dull evening. Aileen complained of
a headache, and they went home.
Very shortly afterward, at a reception given by their neighbors,
the Haatstaedts, to which they had long since been invited, there
was an evident shyness in regard to them, quite new in its aspect,
although the hosts themselves were still friendly enough. Previous
to this, when strangers of prominence had been present at an affair
of this kind they were glad to be brought over to the Cowperwoods,
who were always conspicuous because of Aileen's beauty. On this
day, for no reason obvious to Aileen or Cowperwood (although both
suspected), introductions were almost uniformly refused. There
were a number who knew them, and who talked casually, but the
general tendency on the part of all was to steer clear of them.
Cowperwood sensed the difficulty at once. "I think we'd better
leave early," he remarked to Aileen, after a little while. "This
isn't very interesting."
They returned to their own home, and Cowperwood to avoid discussion
went down-town. He did not care to say what he thought of this
as yet.
It was previous to a reception given by the Union League that the
first real blow was struck at him personally, and that in a
roundabout way. Addison, talking to him at the Lake National Bank
one morning, had said quite confidentially, and out of a clear sky:
"I want to tell you something, Cowperwood. You know by now something
about Chicago society. You also know where I stand in regard to
some things you told me about your past when I first met you.
Well, there's a lot of talk going around about you now in regard
to all that, and these two clubs to which you and I belong are
filled with a lot of two-faced, double-breasted hypocrites who've
been stirred up by this talk of conspiracy in the papers. There
are four or five stockholders of the old companies who are members,
and they are trying to drive you out. They've looked up that story
you told me, and they're talking about filing charges with the
house committees at both places. Now, nothing can come of it in
either case--they've been talking to me; but when this next reception
comes along you'll know what to do. They'll have to extend you
an invitation; but they won't mean it." (Cowperwood understood.)
"This whole thing is certain to blow over, in my judgment; it will
if I have anything to do with it; but for the present--"
He stared at Cowperwood in a friendly way.
The latter smiled. "I expected something like this, Judah, to
tell you the truth," he said, easily. "I've expected it all along.
You needn't worry about me. I know all about this. I've seen
which way the wind is blowing, and I know how to trim my sails."
Addison reached out and took his hand. "But don't resign, whatever
you do," he said, cautiously. "That would be a confession of
weakness, and they don't expect you to. I wouldn't want you to.
Stand your ground. This whole thing will blow over. They're
jealous, I think."
"I never intended to," replied Cowperwood. "There's no legitimate
charge against me. I know it will all blow over if I'm given time
enough." Nevertheless he was chagrined to think that he should be
subjected to such a conversation as this with any one.
Similarly in other ways "society"--so called--was quite able to
enforce its mandates and conclusions.
The one thing that Cowperwood most resented, when he learned of
it much later, was a snub direct given to Aileen at the door of
the Norrie Simmses'; she called there only to be told that Mrs.
Simms was not at home, although the carriages of others were in
the street. A few days afterward Aileen, much to his regret and
astonishment--for he did not then know the cause--actually became
ill.
If it had not been for Cowperwood's eventual financial triumph
over all opposition--the complete routing of the enemy--in the
struggle for control in the gas situation--the situation would
have been hard, indeed. As it was, Aileen suffered bitterly; she
felt that the slight was principally directed at her, and would
remain in force. In the privacy of their own home they were
compelled eventually to admit, the one to the other, that their
house of cards, resplendent and forceful looking as it was, had
fallen to the ground. Personal confidences between people so
closely united are really the most trying of all. Human souls
are constantly trying to find each other, and rarely succeeding.
"You know," he finally said to her once, when he came in rather
unexpectedly and found her sick in bed, her eyes wet, and her maid
dismissed for the day, "I understand what this is all about. To
tell you the truth, Aileen, I rather expected it. We have been
going too fast, you and I. We have been pushing this matter too
hard. Now, I don't like to see you taking it this way, dear.
This battle isn't lost. Why, I thought you had more courage than
this. Let me tell you something which you don't seem to remember.
Money will solve all this sometime. I'm winning in this fight
right now, and I'll win in others. They are coming to me. Why,
dearie, you oughtn't to despair. You're too young. I never do.
You'll win yet. We can adjust this matter right here in Chicago,
and when we do we will pay up a lot of scores at the same time.
We're rich, and we're going to be richer. That will settle it.
Now put on a good face and look pleased; there are plenty of things
to live for in this world besides society. Get up now and dress,
and we'll go for a drive and dinner down-town. You have me yet.
Isn't that something?"
"Oh yes," sighed Aileen, heavily; but she sank back again. She
put her arms about his neck and cried, as much out of joy over the
consolation he offered as over the loss she had endured. "It was
as much for you as for me," she sighed.
"I know that," he soothed; "but don't worry about it now. You
will come out all right. We both will. Come, get up." Nevertheless,
he was sorry to see her yield so weakly. It did not please him.
He resolved some day to have a grim adjustment with society on
this score. Meanwhile Aileen was recovering her spirits. She was
ashamed of her weakness when she saw how forcefully he faced it all.
"Oh, Frank," she exclaimed, finally, "you're always so wonderful.
You're such a darling."
"Never mind," he said, cheerfully. "If we don't win this game
here in Chicago, we will somewhere."
He was thinking of the brilliant manner in which he had adjusted
his affairs with the old gas companies and Mr. Schryhart, and how
thoroughly he would handle some other matters when the time came. _
Read next: chapter XIV - Undercurrents
Read previous: chapter XII - A New Retainer
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