________________________________________________
_ The banking hostility to Cowperwood, which in its beginning had
made necessary his trip to Kentucky and elsewhere, finally reached
a climax. It followed an attempt on his part to furnish funds for
the building of elevated roads. The hour for this new form of
transit convenience had struck. The public demanded it. Cowperwood
saw one elevated road, the South Side Alley Line, being built, and
another, the West Side Metropolitan Line, being proposed, largely,
as he knew, in order to create sentiment for the idea, and so to
make his opposition to a general franchise difficult. He was well
aware that if he did not choose to build them others would. It
mattered little that electricity had arrived finally as a perfected
traction factor, and that all his lines would soon have to be done
over to meet that condition, or that it was costing him thousands
and thousands to stay the threatening aspect of things politically.
In addition he must now plunge into this new realm, gaining
franchises by the roughest and subtlest forms of political bribery.
The most serious aspect of this was not political, but rather
financial. Elevated roads in Chicago, owing to the sparseness of
the population over large areas, were a serious thing to contemplate.
The mere cost of iron, right of way, rolling-stock, and power-plants
was immense. Being chronically opposed to investing his private
funds where stocks could just as well be unloaded on the public,
and the management and control retained by him, Cowperwood, for
the time being, was puzzled as to where he should get credit for
the millions to be laid down in structural steel, engineering fees,
labor, and equipment before ever a dollar could be taken out in
passenger fares. Owing to the advent of the World's Fair, the
South Side 'L'--to which, in order to have peace and quiet, he had
finally conceded a franchise--was doing reasonably well. Yet it
was not making any such return on the investment as the New York
roads. The new lines which he was preparing would traverse even
less populous sections of the city, and would in all likelihood
yield even a smaller return. Money had to be forthcoming--something
between twelve and fifteen million dollars--and this on the stocks
and bonds of a purely paper corporation which might not yield
paying dividends for years to come. Addison, finding that the
Chicago Trust Company was already heavily loaded, called upon
various minor but prosperous local banks to take over the new
securities (each in part, of course). He was astonished and
chagrined to find that one and all uniformly refused.
"I'll tell you how it is, Judah," one bank president confided to
him, in great secrecy. "We owe Timothy Arneel at least three
hundred thousand dollars that we only have to pay three per cent.
for. It's a call-loan. Besides, the Lake National is our main
standby when it comes to quick trades, and he's in on that. I
understand from one or two friends that he's at outs with Cowperwood,
and we can't afford to offend him. I'd like to, but no more for
me--not at present, anyhow."
"Why, Simmons," replied Addison, "these fellows are simply cutting
off their noses to spite their faces. These stock and bond issues
are perfectly good investments, and no one knows it better than
you do. All this hue and cry in the newspapers against Cowperwood
doesn't amount to anything. He's perfectly solvent. Chicago is
growing. His lines are becoming more valuable every year."
"I know that," replied Simmons. "But what about this talk of a
rival elevated system? Won't that injure his lines for the time
being, anyhow, if it comes into the field?"
"If I know anything about Cowperwood," replied Addison, simply,
"there isn't going to be any rival elevated road. It's true they
got the city council to give them a franchise for one line on the
South Side; but that's out of his territory, anyhow, and that other
one to the Chicago General Company doesn't amount to anything.
It will be years and years before it can be made to pay a dollar,
and when the time comes he will probably take it over if he wants
it. Another election will be held in two years, and then the city
administration may not be so unfavorable. As it is, they haven't
been able to hurt him through the council as much as they thought
they would."
"Yes; but he lost the election."
"True; but it doesn't follow he's going to lose the next one, or
every one."
"Just the same," replied Simmons, very secretively, "I understand
there's a concerted effort on to drive him out. Schryhart, Hand,
Merrill, Arneel--they're the most powerful men we have. I understand
Hand says that he'll never get his franchises renewed except on
terms that'll make his lines unprofitable. There's going to be
an awful smash here one of these days if that's true." Mr. Simmons
looked very wise and solemn.
"Never believe it," replied Addison, contemptuously. "Hand isn't
Chicago, neither is Schryhart, nor Arneel. Cowperwood is a brainy
man. He isn't going to be put under so easily. Did you ever hear
what was the real bottom cause of all this disturbance?"
"Yes, I've heard," replied Simmons.
"Do you believe it?"
"Oh, I don't know. Yes, I suppose I do. Still, I don't know that
that need have anything to do with it. Money envy is enough to
make any man fight. This man Hand is very powerful."
Not long after this Cowperwood, strolling into the president's
office of the Chicago Trust Company, inquired: "Well, Judah, how
about those Northwestern 'L' bonds?"
"It's just as I thought, Frank," replied Addison, softly. "We'll
have to go outside of Chicago for that money. Hand, Arneel, and
the rest of that crowd have decided to combine against us. That's
plain. Something has started them off in full cry. I suppose my
resignation may have had something to do with it. Anyhow, every
one of the banks in which they have any hand has uniformly refused
to come in. To make sure that I was right I even called up the
little old Third National of Lake View and the Drovers and Traders
on Forty-seventh Street. That's Charlie Wallin's bank. When I
was over in the Lake National he used to hang around the back door
asking for anything I could give him that was sound. Now he says
his orders are from his directors not to share in anything we have
to offer. It's the same story everywhere--they daren't. I asked
Wallin if he knew why the directors were down on the Chicago Trust
or on you, and at first he said he didn't. Then he said he'd stop
in and lunch with me some day. They're the silliest lot of old
ostriches I ever heard of. As if refusing to let us have money on
any loan here was going to prevent us from getting it! They can
take their little old one-horse banks and play blockhouses with
them if they want to. I can go to New York and in thirty-six hours
raise twenty million dollars if we need it."
Addison was a little warm. It was a new experience for him.
Cowperwood merely curled his mustaches and smiled sardonically.
"Well, never mind," he said. "Will you go down to New York, or
shall I?"
It was decided, after some talk, that Addison should go. When he
reached New York he found, to his surprise, that the local opposition
to Cowperwood had, for some mysterious reason, begun to take root
in the East.
"I'll tell you how it is," observed Joseph Haeckelheimer, to whom
Addison applied--a short, smug, pussy person who was the head of
Haeckelheimer, Gotloeb & Co., international bankers. "We hear odd
things concerning Mr. Cowperwood out in Chicago. Some people say
he is sound--some not. He has some very good franchises covering
a large portion of the city, but they are only twenty-year franchises,
and they will all run out by 1903 at the latest. As I understand
it, he has managed to stir up all the local elements--some very
powerful ones, too--and he is certain to have a hard time to get
his franchises renewed. I don't live in Chicago, of course. I
don't know much about it, but our Western correspondent tells me
this is so. Mr. Cowperwood is a very able man, as I understand
it, but if all these influential men are opposed to him they can
make him a great deal of trouble. The public is very easily
aroused."
"You do a very able man a great injustice, Mr. Haeckelheimer,"
Addison retorted. "Almost any one who starts out to do things
successfully and intelligently is sure to stir up a great deal of
feeling. The particular men you mention seem to feel that they
have a sort of proprietor's interest in Chicago. They really think
they own it. As a matter of fact, the city made them; they didn't
make the city."
Mr. Haeckelheimer lifted his eyebrows. He laid two fine white
hands, plump and stubby, over the lower buttons of his protuberant
waistcoat. "Public favor is a great factor in all these enterprises,"
he almost sighed. "As you know, part of a man's resources lies
in his ability to avoid stirring up opposition. It may be that
Mr. Cowperwood is strong enough to overcome all that. I don't
know. I've never met him. I'm just telling you what I hear."
This offish attitude on the part of Mr. Haeckelheimer was indicative
of a new trend. The man was enormously wealthy. The firm of
Haeckelheimer, Gotloeb & Co. represented a controlling interest
in some of the principal railways and banks in America. Their
favor was not to be held in light esteem.
It was plain that these rumors against Cowperwood in New York,
unless offset promptly by favorable events in Chicago, might mean
--in the large banking quarters, anyhow--the refusal of all
subsequent Cowperwood issues. It might even close the doors of
minor banks and make private investors nervous.
Addison's report of all this annoyed Cowperwood no little. It
made him angry. He saw in it the work of Schryhart, Hand, and
others who were trying their best to discredit him. "Let them
talk," he declared, crossly. "I have the street-railways. They're
not going to rout me out of here. I can sell stocks and bonds to
the public direct if need be! There are plenty of private people
who are glad to invest in these properties."
At this psychological moment enter, as by the hand of Fate, the
planet Mars and the University. This latter, from having been for
years a humble Baptist college of the cheapest character, had
suddenly, through the beneficence of a great Standard Oil
multimillionaire, flared upward into a great university, and was
causing a stir throughout the length and breadth of the educational
world.
It was already a most noteworthy spectacle, one of the sights of
the city. Millions were being poured into it; new and beautiful
buildings were almost monthly erected. A brilliant, dynamic man
had been called from the East as president. There were still many
things needed--dormitories, laboratories of one kind and another,
a great library; and, last but not least, a giant telescope--one
that would sweep the heavens with a hitherto unparalleled receptive
eye, and wring from it secrets not previously decipherable by the
eye and the mind of man.
Cowperwood had always been interested in the heavens and in the
giant mathematical and physical methods of interpreting them. It
so happened that the war-like planet, with its sinister aspect,
was just at this time to be seen hanging in the west, a fiery red;
and the easily aroused public mind was being stirred to its shallow
depth by reflections and speculations regarding the famous canals
of the luminary. The mere thought of the possibility of a larger
telescope than any now in existence, which might throw additional
light on this evasive mystery, was exciting not only Chicago, but
the whole world. Late one afternoon Cowperwood, looking over some
open fields which faced his new power-house in West Madison Street,
observed the planet hanging low and lucent in the evening sky, a
warm, radiant bit of orange in a sea of silver. He paused and
surveyed it. Was it true that there were canals on it, and people?
Life was surely strange.
One day not long after this Alexander Rambaud called him up on the
'phone and remarked, jocosely:
"I say, Cowperwood, I've played a rather shabby trick on you just
now. Doctor Hooper, of the University, was in here a few minutes
ago asking me to be one of ten to guarantee the cost of a telescope
lens that he thinks he needs to run that one-horse school of his
out there. I told him I thought you might possibly be interested.
His idea is to find some one who will guarantee forty thousand
dollars, or eight or ten men who will guarantee four or five
thousand each. I thought of you, because I've heard you discuss
astronomy from time to time."
"Let him come," replied Cowperwood, who was never willing to be
behind others in generosity, particularly where his efforts were
likely to be appreciated in significant quarters.
Shortly afterward appeared the doctor himself--short, rotund,
rubicund, displaying behind a pair of clear, thick, gold-rimmed
glasses, round, dancing, incisive eyes. Imaginative grip, buoyant,
self-delusive self-respect were written all over him. The two men
eyed each other--one with that broad-gage examination which sees
even universities as futile in the endless shift of things; the
other with that faith in the balance for right which makes even
great personal forces, such as financial magnates, serve an
idealistic end.
"It's not a very long story I have to tell you, Mr. Cowperwood,"
said the doctor. "Our astronomical work is handicapped just now
by the simple fact that we have no lens at all, no telescope worthy
of the name. I should like to see the University do original work
in this field, and do it in a great way. The only way to do it,
in my judgment, is to do it better than any one else can. Don't
you agree with me?" He showed a row of shining white teeth.
Cowperwood smiled urbanely.
"Will a forty-thousand-dollar lens be a better lens than any other
lens?" he inquired.
"Made by Appleman Brothers, of Dorchester, it will," replied the
college president. "The whole story is here, Mr. Cowperwood.
These men are practical lens-makers. A great lens, in the first
place, is a matter of finding a suitable crystal. Large and
flawless crystals are not common, as you may possibly know. Such
a crystal has recently been found, and is now owned by Mr. Appleman.
It takes about four or five years to grind and polish it. Most
of the polishing, as you may or may not know, is done by the
hand--smoothing it with the thumb and forefinger. The time,
judgment, and skill of an optical expert is required. To-day,
unfortunately, that is not cheap. The laborer is worthy of his
hire, however, I suppose"--he waved a soft, full, white hand--"and
forty thousand is little enough. It would be a great honor if the
University could have the largest, most serviceable, and most
perfect lens in the world. It would reflect great credit, I take
it, on the men who would make this possible."
Cowperwood liked the man's artistically educational air; obviously
here was a personage of ability, brains, emotion, and scientific
enthusiasm. It was splendid to him to see any strong man in
earnest, for himself or others.
"And forty thousand will do this?" he asked.
"Yes, sir. Forty thousand will guarantee us the lens, anyhow."
"And how about land, buildings, a telescope frame? Have you all
those things prepared for it?"
"Not as yet, but, since it takes four years at least to grind the
lens, there will be time enough, when the lens is nearing completion,
to look after the accessories. We have picked our site, however
--Lake Geneva--and we would not refuse either land or accessories
if we knew where to get them."
Again the even, shining teeth, the keen eyes boring through the
glasses.
Cowperwood saw a great opportunity. He asked what would be the
cost of the entire project. Dr. Hooper presumed that three hundred
thousand would do it all handsomely--lens, telescope, land,
machinery, building--a great monument.
"And how much have you guaranteed on the cost of your lens?"
"Sixteen thousand dollars, so far."
"To be paid when?"
"In instalments--ten thousand a year for four years. Just enough
to keep the lens-maker busy for the present."
Cowperwood reflected. Ten thousand a year for four years would
be a mere salary item, and at the end of that time he felt sure
that he could supply the remainder of the money quite easily. He
would be so much richer; his plans would be so much more mature.
On such a repute (the ability to give a three-hundred-thousand-dollar
telescope out of hand to be known as the Cowperwood telescope) he
could undoubtedly raise money in London, New York, and elsewhere
for his Chicago enterprise. The whole world would know him in a
day. He paused, his enigmatic eyes revealing nothing of the
splendid vision that danced before them. At last! At last!
"How would it do, Mr. Hooper," he said, sweetly, "if, instead of
ten men giving you four thousand each, as you plan, one man were
to give you forty thousand in annual instalments of ten thousand
each? Could that be arranged as well?"
"My dear Mr. Cowperwood," exclaimed the doctor, glowing, his eyes
alight, "do I understand that you personally might wish to give
the money for this lens?"
"I might, yes. But I should have to exact one pledge, Mr. Hooper,
if I did any such thing."
"And what would that be?"
"The privilege of giving the land and the building--the whole
telescope, in fact. I presume no word of this will be given out
unless the matter is favorably acted upon?" he added, cautiously
and diplomatically.
The new president of the university arose and eyed him with a
peculiarly approbative and grateful gaze. He was a busy, overworked
man. His task was large. Any burden taken from his shoulders in
this fashion was a great relief.
"My answer to that, Mr. Cowperwood, if I had the authority, would
be to agree now in the name of the University, and thank you. For
form's sake, I must submit the matter to the trustees of the
University, but I have no doubt as to the outcome. I anticipate
nothing but grateful approbation. Let me thank you again."
They shook hands warmly, and the solid collegian bustled forth.
Cowperwood sank quietly in his chair. He pressed his fingers
together, and for a moment or two permitted himself to dream.
Then he called a stenographer and began a bit of dictation. He
did not care to think even to himself how universally advantageous
all this might yet prove to be.
The result was that in the course of a few weeks the proffer was
formally accepted by the trustees of the University, and a report
of the matter, with Cowperwood's formal consent, was given out for
publication. The fortuitous combination of circumstances already
described gave the matter a unique news value. Giant reflectors
and refractors had been given and were in use in other parts of
the world, but none so large or so important as this. The gift
was sufficient to set Cowperwood forth in the light of a public
benefactor and patron of science. Not only in Chicago, but in
London, Paris, and New York, wherever, indeed, in the great capitals
scientific and intellectual men were gathered, this significant
gift of an apparently fabulously rich American became the subject
of excited discussion. Banking men, among others, took sharp note
of the donor, and when Cowperwood's emissaries came around later
with a suggestion that the fifty-year franchises about to be voted
him for elevated roads should be made a basis of bond and mortgage
loans, they were courteously received. A man who could give
three-hundred-thousand-dollar telescopes in the hour of his greatest
difficulties must be in a rather satisfactory financial condition.
He must have great wealth in reserve. After some preliminaries,
during which Cowperwood paid a flying visit to Threadneedle Street
in London, and to Wall Street in New York, an arrangement was made
with an English-American banking company by which the majority of
the bonds for his proposed roads were taken over by them for sale
in Europe and elsewhere, and he was given ample means wherewith
to proceed. Instantly the stocks of his surface lines bounded in
price, and those who had been scheming to bring about Cowperwood's
downfall gnashed impotent teeth. Even Haeckelheimer & Co. were
interested.
Anson Merrill, who had only a few weeks before given a large field
for athletic purposes to the University, pulled a wry face over
this sudden eclipse of his glory. Hosmer Hand, who had given a
chemical laboratory, and Schryhart, who had presented a dormitory,
were depressed to think that a benefaction less costly than theirs
should create, because of the distinction of the idea, so much
more notable comment. It was merely another example of the brilliant
fortune which seemed to pursue the man, the star that set all their
plans at defiance. _
Read next: chapter XLIV - A Franchise Obtained
Read previous: chapter XLII - F. A. Cowperwood, Guardian
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