XXVI. THE WEAK STRAND
No sane creature, not even a sane bulldog, will fight simply from love offighting. When a man is attacked, he may be sure he has excited either fearor cupidity, or both. As far as I could see, it was absurd that cupiditywas inciting Langdon and Roebuck against me. I hadn't enough to tempt them.Thus, I was forced to conclude that I must possess a strength of which Iwas unaware, and which stirred even Roebuck's fears. But what could it be?
Besides Langdon and Roebuck and me there were six principals in theproposed Coal combine, three of them richer and more influential in financethan even Langdon, all of them except possibly Dykeman, the lawyer ornavigating officer of the combine, more formidable figures than I. Yet noneof these men was being assailed. "Why am I singled out?" I asked myself,and I felt that if I could answer, I should find I had the means whollyor partly to defeat them. But I could not explain to my satisfaction evenLangdon's activities against me. I felt that Anita was somehow, in part atleast, the cause; but, even so, how had he succeeded in convincing Roebuckthat I must be clipped and plucked into a groundling?
"It must have something to do with the Manasquale mines," I decided. "Ithought I had given over my control of them, but somehow I must still havea control that makes me too powerful for Roebuck to be at ease so long as Iam afoot and armed." And I resolved to take my lawyers and search the wholeManasquale transaction--to explore it from attic to underneath the cellarflooring. "We'll go through it," said I, "like ferrets through a ship'shold."
As I was finishing breakfast, Anita came in. She had evidently slept well,and I regarded that as ominous. At her age, a crisis means little sleepuntil a decision has been reached. I rose, but her manner warned me not toadvance and try to shake hands with her.
"I have asked Alva to stop with me here for a few days," she said formally.
"Alva!" said I, much surprised. She had not asked one of her own friends;she had asked a girl she had met less than two days before, and that girlmy partner's daughter.
"She was here yesterday morning," Anita explained. And I now wondered howmuch Alva there was in Anita's firm stand against her parents.
"Why don't you take her down to our place on Long Island?" said I, mostcarefully concealing my delight--for Alva near her meant a friend of mineand an advocate and example of real womanhood near her. "Everything's readyfor you there, and I'm going to be busy the next few days--busy day andnight."
She reflected. "Very well," she assented presently. And she gave me apuzzled glance she thought I did not see--as if she were wondering whetherthe enemy was not hiding new and deeper guile under an apparently harmlesssuggestion.
"Then I'll not see you again for several days," said I, most businesslike."If you want anything, there will be Monson out at the stables where hecan't annoy you. Or you can get me on the 'long distance.' Good-by. Goodluck."
And I nodded carelessly and friendlily to her, and went away, enjoyingthe pleasure of having startled her into visible astonishment. "There'sa better game than icy hostility, you very young, young lady," said I tomyself, "and that game is friendly indifference."
Alva would be with her. So she was secure for the present and my mind wasfree for "finance."
At that time the two most powerful men in finance were Galloway andRoebuck. In Spain I once saw a fight between a bull and a tiger--or, ratherthe beginning of a fight. They were released into a huge iron cage. Aftercircling it several times in the same direction, searching for a way out,they came face to face. The bull tossed the tiger; the tiger clawed thebull. The bull roared; the tiger screamed. Each retreated to his own sideof the cage. The bull pawed and snorted as if he could hardly wait to getat the tiger; the tiger crouched and quivered and glared murderously, as ifhe were going instantly to spring upon the bull. But the bull did not rush,neither did the tiger spring. That was the Roebuck-Galloway situation.
How to bait Tiger Galloway to attack Bull Roebuck--that was the problem Imust solve, and solve straightway. If I could bring about war between thegiants, spreading confusion over the whole field of finance and filling allmen with dread and fear, there was a chance, a bare chance, that in theconfusion I might bear off part of my fortune. Certainly, conditions wouldresult in which I could more easily get myself intrenched again; then, too,there would be a by no means small satisfaction in seeing Roebuck clawedand bitten in punishment for having plotted against me.
Mutual fear had kept these two at peace for five years, and mostconsiderate and polite about each other's "rights." But while our country'sindustrial territory is vast, the interests of the few great controllerswho determine wages and prices for all are equally vast, and each plutocratis tormented incessantly by jealousy and suspicion; not a day passeswithout conflicts of interest that adroit diplomacy could turn intoferocious warfare. And in this matter of monopolizing the coal, despiteRoebuck's earnest assurances to Galloway that the combine was purelydefensive, and was really concerned only with the labor question, Galloway,a great manufacturer, or, rather, a huge levier of the taxes of dividendsand interest upon manufacturing enterprises, could not but be uneasy.
Before I rose that morning I had a tentative plan for stirring him toaction. I was elaborating it on the way down town in my electric. It showshow badly Anita was crippling my brain, that not until I was almost at myoffice did it occur to me: "That was a tremendous luxury Roebuck indulgedhis conscience in last night. It isn't like him to forewarn a man, evenwhen he's sure he can't escape. Though his prayers were hot in his mouth,still, it's strange he didn't try to fool me. In fact, it's suspicious. Infact--"
Suspicious? The instant the idea was fairly before my mind, I knew I hadlet his canting fool me once more. I entered my offices, feeling that theblow had already fallen; and I was surprised, but not relieved, when Ifound everything calm. "But fall it will within an hour or so--before I canmove to avert it," said I to myself.
And fall it did. At eleven o'clock, just as I was setting out to make myfirst move toward heating old Galloway's heels for the war-path, Joe camein with the news: "A general lockout's declared in the coal regions. Theoperators have stolen a march on the men who, so they allege, were secretlygetting ready to strike. By night every coal road will be tied up and everymine shut down."
Joe knew our coal interests were heavy, but he did not dream his news meantthat before the day was over we would be bankrupt and not able to payfifteen cents on the dollar. However, he knew enough to throw him intoa fever of fright. He watched my calmness with terror. "Coal stocks aredropping like a thermometer in a cold wave," he said, like a fireman at asleeper in a burning house.
"Naturally," said I, unruffled, apparently. "What can we do about it?"
"We must do something!" he exclaimed.
"Yes, we must," I admitted. "For instance, we must keep cool, especiallywhen two or three dozen people are watching us. Also, you must attend toyour usual routine."
"What are you going to do?" he cried. "For God's sake, Matt, don't keep mein suspense!"
"Go to your desk," I commanded. And he quieted down and went. I hadn't beenschooling him in the fire-drill for fifteen years in vain.
I went up the street and into the great banking and brokerage house ofGalloway and Company. I made my way through the small army of guards,behind which the old beast of prey was intrenched, and into his privateden. There he sat, at a small, plain table, in the middle of the roomwithout any article of furniture in it but his table and his chair. On thetable was a small inkstand, perfectly clean, a steel pen equally clean, onthe rest attached to it. And that was all--not a letter, not a scrap ofpaper, not a sign of work or of intention to work. It might have been thedesk of a man who did nothing; in fact, it was the desk of a man who hadso much to do that his only hope of escape from being overwhelmed was todespatch and clear away each matter the instant it was presented to him.Many things could be read from the powerful form, bolt upright in thatstiff chair, and from the cynical, masterful old face. But to me thechief quality there revealed was that
quality of qualities, decision--thegreatest power a man can have, except only courage. And old James Gallowayhad both.
He respected Roebuck; Roebuck feared him. Roebuck did have some sortof conscience, distorted though it was, and the dictator of savageriesGalloway would have scorned to commit. Galloway had no professions ofconscience--beyond such small glozing of hypocrisy as any man must put onif he wishes to be intrusted with the money of a public that associatesprofessions of religion and appearances of respectability with honesty.Roebuck's passion was wealth--to see the millions heap up and up. Gallowayhad that passion, too--I have yet to meet a multi-millionaire who isn'tavaricious and even stingy. But Galloway's chief passion was power--tohandle men as a junk merchant handles rags, to plan and lead campaigns ofconquest with his golden legions, and to distribute the spoils like anautocrat who is careless how they are divided, since all belongs to him,whenever he wishes to claim it.
He pierced me with his blue eyes, keen as a youth's, though his face wasseamed with scars of seventy tumultuous years. He extended toward meover the table his broad, stubby white hand--the hand of a builder, of aconstructive genius. "How are you, Blacklock?" said he. "What can I dofor you?" He just touched my hand before dropping it, and resumed thatidol-like pose. But although there was only repose and deliberation in hismanner, and not a suggestion of haste, I, like every one who came into thatroom and that presence, had a sense of an interminable procession behindme, a procession of men who must be seen by this master-mover, that theymight submit important and pressing affairs to him for decision. It wasunnecessary for him to tell any one to be brief and pointed.
"I shall have to go to the wall to-day," said I, taking a paper frommy pocket, "unless you save me. Here is a statement of my assets andliabilities. I call to your attention my Coal holdings. I was one of theeight men whom Roebuck got round him for the new combine--it is a secret,but I assume you know all about it."
He laid the paper before him, put on his nose-glasses and looked at it.
"If you will save me," I continued, "I will transfer to you, in a block,all my Coal holdings. They will be worth double my total liabilities withinthree months--as soon as the reorganization is announced. I leave itentirely to your sense of justice whether I shall have any part of themback when this storm blows over."
"Why didn't you go to Roebuck?" he asked without looking up.
"Because it is he that has stuck the knife into me."
"Why?"
"I don't know. I suspect the Manasquale properties, which I brought intothe combine, have some value, which no one but Roebuck, and perhapsLangdon, knows about--and that I in some way was dangerous to them throughthat fact. They haven't given me time to look into it."
A grim smile flitted over his face. "You've been too busy getting married,eh?"
"Exactly," said I. "It's another case of unbuckling for the wedding-feastand getting assassinated as a penalty. Do you wish me to explain anythingon that list--do you want any details of the combine--of the Coal stocksthere?"
"Not necessary," he replied. As I had thought, with that enormous machineof his for drawing in information, and with that enormous memory of his fordetails, he probably knew more about the combine and its properties than Idid.
"You have heard of the lockout?" I inquired--for I wished him to know Ihad no intention of deceiving him as to the present market value of thosestocks.
"Roebuck has been commanded by his God," he said, "to eject the freeAmerican labor from the coal regions and to substitute importations ofcoolie Huns and Bohemians. Thus, the wicked American laborers will bechastened for trying to get higher wages and cut down a pious man'sdividends; and the downtrodden coolies will be brought where they can enjoythe blessings of liberty and of the preaching of Roebuck's missionaries."
I laughed, though he had not smiled, but had spoken as if stating colorlessfacts. "And righteousness and Roebuck will prevail," said I.
He frowned slightly, a sardonic grin breaking the straight, thin, cruelline of his lips. He opened his table's one shallow drawer, and took out apad and a pencil. He wrote a few words on the lowest part of the top sheet,folded it, tore off the part he had scribbled on, returned the pad andpencil to the drawer, handed the scrap of paper to me. "I will do it," hesaid. "Give this to Mr. Farquhar, second door to the left. Good morning."And in that atmosphere of vast affairs speedily despatched his consentwithout argument seemed, and was, the matter-of-course.
I bowed. Though he had not saved me as a favor to me, but because it fittedin with his plans, whatever they were, my eyes dimmed. "I shan't forgetthis," said I, my voice not quite steady.
"I know it," said he curtly. "I know you." I saw that his mind had alreadyturned me out. I said no more, and withdrew. When I left the room it wasprecisely as it had been when I entered it--except the bit of paper tornfrom the pad. But what a difference to me, to the thousands, the hundredsof thousands directly and indirectly interested in the Coal combine and itsstrike and its products, was represented by those few, almost illegiblescrawlings on that scrap of paper.
Not until I had gone over the situation with Farquhar, and we had signedand exchanged the necessary papers, did I begin to relax from thestrain--how great that strain was I realized a few weeks later, whenthe gray appeared thick at my temples and there was in my crown whatwas, for such a shock as mine, a thin spot. "I am saved!" said I tomyself, venturing a long breath, as I stood on the steps of Galloway'sestablishment, where hourly was transacted business vitally affectingthe welfare of scores of millions of human beings, with James Galloway'spersonal interest as the sole guiding principle. "Saved!" I repeated, andnot until then did it flash before me, "I must have paid a frightful price.He would never have consented to interfere with Roebuck as soon as I askedhim to do it, unless there had been some powerful motive. If I had had mywits about me, I could have made far better terms." Why hadn't I my witsabout me? "Anita" was my instant answer to my own question. "Anita again.I had a bad attack of family man's panic." And thus it came about that Iwent back to my own office, feeling as if I had suffered a severe defeat,instead of jubilant over my narrow escape.
Joe followed me into my den. "What luck?" asked he, in the tone of a motherwaylaying the doctor as he issues from the sick-room.
"Luck?" said I, gazing blankly at him.
"You've seen the latest quotation, haven't you?" In his nervousness histemper was on a fine edge.
"No," replied I indifferently. I sat down at my desk and began to busymyself. Then I added: "We're out of the Coal combine. I've transferred ourholdings. Look after these things, please." And I gave him the checks,notes and memoranda of agreement.
"Galloway!" he exclaimed. And then his eye fell on the totals of the stockI had been carrying. "Good God, Matt!" he gasped. "Ruined!"
And he sat down, and buried his face and cried like a child--it was thenthat I measured the full depth of the chasm I had escaped. I made no suchexhibition of myself, but when I tried to relight my cigar my hand trembledso that the flame scorched my lips.
"Ruined?" I said to Joe, easily enough. "Not at all. We're back in theroad, going smoothly ahead--only, at a bit less stiff a pace. Think, Joe,of all those poor devils down in the mining districts. They're out--clearout--and thousands of 'em don't know where their families will get bread.And though they haven't found it out yet, they've got to leave the placewhere they've lived all their lives, and their fathers before them--havegot to go wandering about in a world that's as strange to them as thesurface of the moon, and as bare for them as the Sahara desert."
"That's so," said Joe. "It's hard luck." But I saw he was thinking only ofhimself and his narrow escape from having to give up his big house and allthe rest of it; that, soft-hearted and generous though he was, to thosepoor chaps and their wives and children he wasn't giving a thought.
Wall Street never does--they're too remote, too vague. It deals withcolumns of figures and slips of paper. It never thinks of thoseabstractions as standing for so many hearts and so man
y mouths, just as thebank clerk never thinks of the bits of metal he counts so swiftly as moneywith which things and men could be bought. I read somewhere once thatVoltaire--I think it was Voltaire--asked a man what he would do if, bypressing a button on his table, he would be enormously rich and at thesame time would cause the death of a person away off at the other side ofthe earth, unknown to him, and probably no more worthy to live, and withno greater expectation of life or of happiness than the average sinful,short-lived human being. I've often thought of that as I've watched ourgreat "captains of industry." Voltaire's dilemma is theirs. And they don'thesitate; they press the button. I leave the morality of the performance tomoralists; to me, its chief feature is its cowardice, its sneaking, slimycowardice.
"You've done a grand two hours' work," said Joe.
"Grander than you think," replied I. "I've set the tiger on to fight thebull."
"Galloway and Roebuck?"
"Just that," said I. And I laughed, started up, sat down again. "No, I'llput off the pleasure," said I. "I'll let Roebuck find out, when the clawscatch in that tough old hide of his."