CHAPTER XXI
Though Daylight appeared among his fellows hearty voiced,inexhaustible, spilling over with energy and vitality, deep down he wasa very weary man. And sometime under the liquor drug, snatches ofwisdom came to him far more lucidity than in his sober moments, as, forinstance, one night, when he sat on the edge of the bed with one shoein his hand and meditated on Dede's aphorism to the effect that hecould not sleep in more than one bed at a time. Still holding theshoe, he looked at the array of horsehair bridles on the walls. Then,carrying the shoe, he got up and solemnly counted them, journeying intothe two adjoining rooms to complete the tale. Then he came back to thebed and gravely addressed his shoe:--
"The little woman's right. Only one bed at a time. One hundred andforty hair bridles, and nothing doing with ary one of them. One bridleat a time! I can't ride one horse at a time. Poor old Bob. I'dbetter be sending you out to pasture. Thirty million dollars, and ahundred million or nothing in sight, and what have I got to show forit? There's lots of things money can't buy. It can't buy the littlewoman. It can't buy capacity. What's the good of thirty millions whenI ain't got room for more than a quart of cocktails a day? If I had ahundred-quart-cocktail thirst, it'd be different. But one quart--onemeasly little quart! Here I am, a thirty times over millionaire,slaving harder every day than any dozen men that work for me, and all Iget is two meals that don't taste good, one bed, a quart of Martini,and a hundred and forty hair bridles to look at on the wall."
He stared around at the array disconsolately. "Mr. Shoe, I'm sizzled.Good night."
Far worse than the controlled, steady drinker is the solitary drinker,and it was this that Daylight was developing into. He rarely dranksociably any more, but in his own room, by himself. Returning wearyfrom each day's unremitting effort, he drugged himself to sleep,knowing that on the morrow he would rise up with a dry and burningmouth and repeat the program.
But the country did not recover with its wonted elasticity. Money didnot become freer, though the casual reader of Daylight's newspapers, aswell as of all the other owned and subsidised newspapers in thecountry, could only have concluded that the money tightness was overand that the panic was past history. All public utterances were cheeryand optimistic, but privately many of the utterers were in desperatestraits. The scenes enacted in the privacy of Daylight's office, andof the meetings of his boards of directors, would have given the lie tothe editorials in his newspapers; as, for instance, when he addressedthe big stockholders in the Sierra and Salvador Power Company, theUnited Water Company, and the several other stock companies:--
"You've got to dig. You've got a good thing, but you'll have tosacrifice in order to hold on. There ain't no use spouting hard timesexplanations. Don't I know the hard times is on? Ain't that whatyou're here for? As I said before, you've got to dig. I run themajority stock, and it's come to a case of assess. It's that or smash.If ever I start going you won't know what struck you, I'll smash thathard. The small fry can let go, but you big ones can't. This shipwon't sink as long as you stay with her. But if you start to leaveher, down you'll sure go before you can get to shore. This assessmenthas got to be met that's all."
The big wholesale supply houses, the caterers for his hotels, and allthe crowd that incessantly demanded to be paid, had their hothalf-hours with him. He summoned them to his office and displayed hislatest patterns of can and can't and will and won't.
"By God, you've got to carry me!" he told them. "If you think this isa pleasant little game of parlor whist and that you can quit and gohome whenever you want, you're plumb wrong. Look here, Watkins, youremarked five minutes ago that you wouldn't stand for it. Now let metell you a few. You're going to stand for it and keep on standin's forit. You're going to continue supplying me and taking my paper untilthe pinch is over. How you're going to do it is your trouble, notmine. You remember what I did to Klinkner and the Altamont TrustCompany? I know the inside of your business better than you doyourself, and if you try to drop me I'll smash you. Even if I'd begoing to smash myself, I'd find a minute to turn on you and bring youdown with me. It's sink or swim for all of us, and I reckon you'llfind it to your interest to keep me on top the puddle."
Perhaps his bitterest fight was with the stockholders of the UnitedWater Company, for it was practically the whole of the gross earningsof this company that he voted to lend to himself and used to bolster uphis wide battle front. Yet he never pushed his arbitrary rule too far.Compelling sacrifice from the men whose fortunes were tied up with his,nevertheless when any one of them was driven to the wall and was indire need, Daylight was there to help him back into the line. Only astrong man could have saved so complicated a situation in such time ofstress, and Daylight was that man. He turned and twisted, schemed anddevised, bludgeoned and bullied the weaker ones, kept the faint-heartedin the fight, and had no mercy on the deserter.
And in the end, when early summer was on, everything began to mend.Came a day when Daylight did the unprecedented. He left the office anhour earlier than usual, and for the reason that for the first timesince the panic there was not an item of work waiting to be done. Hedropped into Hegan's private office, before leaving, for a chat, and ashe stood up to go, he said:--
"Hegan, we're all hunkadory. We're pulling out of the financialpawnshop in fine shape, and we'll get out without leaving oneunredeemed pledge behind. The worst is over, and the end is in sight.Just a tight rein for a couple more weeks, just a bit of a pinch or aflurry or so now and then, and we can let go and spit on our hands."
For once he varied his program. Instead of going directly to hishotel, he started on a round of the bars and cafes, drinking a cocktailhere and a cocktail there, and two or three when he encountered men heknew. It was after an hour or so of this that he dropped into the barof the Parthenon for one last drink before going to dinner. By thistime all his being was pleasantly warmed by the alcohol, and he was inthe most genial and best of spirits. At the corner of the bar severalyoung men were up to the old trick of resting their elbows andattempting to force each other's hands down. One broad-shoulderedyoung giant never removed his elbow, but put down every hand that cameagainst him. Daylight was interested.
"It's Slosson," the barkeeper told him, in answer to his query. "He'sthe heavy-hammer thrower at the U.C. Broke all records this year, andthe world's record on top of it. He's a husky all right all right."
Daylight nodded and went over to him, placing his own arm in opposition.
"I'd like to go you a flutter, son, on that proposition," he said.
The young man laughed and locked hands with him; and to Daylight'sastonishment it was his own hand that was forced down on the bar.
"Hold on," he muttered. "Just one more flutter. I reckon I wasn'tjust ready that time."
Again the hands locked. It happened quickly. The offensive attack ofDaylight's muscles slipped instantly into defense, and, resistingvainly, his hand was forced over and down. Daylight was dazed. It hadbeen no trick. The skill was equal, or, if anything, the superiorskill had been his. Strength, sheer strength, had done it. He calledfor the drinks, and, still dazed and pondering, held up his own arm,and looked at it as at some new strange thing. He did not know thisarm. It certainly was not the arm he had carried around with him allthe years. The old arm? Why, it would have been play to turn down thatyoung husky's. But this arm--he continued to look at it with suchdubious perplexity as to bring a roar of laughter from the young men.
This laughter aroused him. He joined in it at first, and then his faceslowly grew grave. He leaned toward the hammer-thrower.
"Son," he said, "let me whisper a secret. Get out of here and quitdrinking before you begin."
The young fellow flushed angrily, but Daylight held steadily on.
"You listen to your dad, and let him say a few. I'm a young manmyself, only I ain't. Let me tell you, several years ago for me toturn your hand down would have been like committing assault and batteryon a kinderg
arten."
Slosson looked his incredulity, while the others grinned and clusteredaround Daylight encouragingly.
"Son, I ain't given to preaching. This is the first time I ever cometo the penitent form, and you put me there yourself--hard. I've seen afew in my time, and I ain't fastidious so as you can notice it. Butlet me tell you right now that I'm worth the devil alone knows how manymillions, and that I'd sure give it all, right here on the bar, to turndown your hand. Which means I'd give the whole shooting match just tobe back where I was before I quit sleeping under the stars and comeinto the hen-coops of cities to drink cocktails and lift up my feet andride. Son, that's that's the matter with me, and that's the way I feelabout it. The game ain't worth the candle. You just take care ofyourself, and roll my advice over once in a while. Good night."
He turned and lurched out of the place, the moral effect of hisutterance largely spoiled by the fact that he was so patently fullwhile he uttered it.
Still in a daze, Daylight made to his hotel, accomplished his dinner,and prepared for bed.
"The damned young whippersnapper!" he muttered. "Put my hand down easyas you please. My hand!"
He held up the offending member and regarded it with stupid wonder.The hand that had never been beaten! The hand that had made the CircleCity giants wince! And a kid from college, with a laugh on his face,had put it down--twice! Dede was right. He was not the same man. Thesituation would bear more serious looking into than he had ever givenit. But this was not the time. In the morning, after a good sleep, hewould give it consideration.