Produced by Al Haines
[Frontispiece: With Eyes Wide and Staring She Looked About Her]
THE SON OF HIS FATHER
BY
RIDGWELL CULLUM
AUTHOR OF
"THE MEN WHO WROUGHT," "THE WAY OF THE STRONG," "THE NIGHT-RIDERS,""THE WATCHERS OF THE PLAINS," ETC.
Illustrations by
DOUGLAS DUER
PHILADELPHIA
GEORGE W. JACOBS & COMPANY
PUBLISHERS
Copyright, 1915, by
George W. Jacobs & Company
_Published March, 1917_
All rights reserved
_Printed in U. S. A._
TO
G. RALPH HALL-CAINE
WHOSE SYMPATHY WITH MY WORK HAS NEVER
FAILED TO CHEER ME THROUGHOUT
OUR LONG AND VALUED
FRIENDSHIP
CONTENTS
CHAP.
I Unrepentant II In Chastened Mood III Gordon Arrives IV Gordon Lands at Snake's Fall V A Letter Home VI Gordon Prospects Snake's Fall VII "Miss Hazel" VIII At Buffalo Point IX The First Check X Gordon Makes His Bid for Fortune XI Hazel Mallinsbee's Campaign XII Thinking Hard XIII Slosson Snatches at Opportunity XIV The Reward of Victory XV In Council XVI Something Doing XVII The Code Book XVIII Ways that are Dark XIX James Carbhoy Arrives XX The Boom in Earnest XXI A Trifle XXII On the Trail XXIII In New York XXIV Preparing for the Finale XXV The Rescue XXVI Cashing In
ILLUSTRATIONS
With eyes wide and staring she looked about her . . . _Frontispiece_
Hazel was waiting for that sign
He drew her gently towards his father
CHAPTER I
UNREPENTANT
"To wine, women and gambling, at the age of twenty-four--one hundredthousand dollars. That's your bill, my boy, and--I've got to pay it."
James Carbhoy leaned back smiling, his half-humorous eyes squarelychallenging his son, who was lounging in a luxurious morocco chair atthe other side of the desk.
As the moments passed without producing any reply, he reached towardsthe cabinet at his elbow and helped himself to a large cigar. Withoutany scruple he tore the end off it with his strong teeth and struck amatch.
"Well?"
Gordon Carbhoy cleared his throat and looked serious. In spite of hisfather's easy, smiling manner he knew that a crisis in his affairs hadbeen reached. He understood the iron will lying behind the pleasantsteel-gray eyes of his parent. It was a will that flinched at nothing,a will that had carved for its owner a great fortune in America's moststrenuous financial arena, the railroad world. He also knew the onlyway in which to meet his father's challenge with any hope of success.Above everything else the millionaire demanded courage andmanhood--manhood as he understood it--from those whom he regarded well.
"I'm waiting."
Gordon stirred. The millionaire carefully lit his cigar.
"Put that way it--sounds rotten, Dad, doesn't it?" Gordon's mobilelips twisted humorously, and he also reached towards the cigar cabinet.
But the older man intercepted him. He held out a box of lesser cigars.
"Try one of these, Gordon. One of the others would add two dollars toyour bill. These are half the price."
The two men smiled into each other's eyes. A great devotion laybetween them. But their regard was not likely to interfere with thebusiness in hand.
Gordon helped himself. Then he rose from his chair. He moved acrossthe handsome room, towering enormously. His six feet three inches werewell matched by a great pair of athletic shoulders. His handsome facebore no traces of the fast living implied by the enormous total of hisdebts. The wholesome tan of outdoor sports left him a fine specimen ofthe more brilliant youth of America. Then, too, in his humorous blueeyes lay an extra dash of recklessness, which was probably due to hissuperlative physical advantages. He came back to his chair and proppedhis vast body on the back of it. His father was watching himaffectionately.
"Dad," he exclaimed, "I'm--sorry."
The other shook his head.
"Don't say that. It's not true. I'd hate it to be true--anyway."
Gordon's face lit.
"You're--going to pay it?"
"Sure. I'm not going to have our name stink in our home city. SureI'm going to pay it. But----"
"But--what?"
"So are you."
The faint ticking of the bracket clock on the wall suddenly became likethe blows of a hammer.
"I--I don't think I----"
Young Gordon broke off. His merry eyes had suddenly become troubled.The crisis was becoming acute.
For some moments the millionaire smoked on luxuriously. Then heremoved his cigar and cleared his throat.
"I'm not going to shout. That's not my way," he said in his easy,deliberate fashion. "Guess folks have got to be young, and the youngerthey're young--why, the better. I was young, and--got over it. You'regoing to get over it. I figure to help you that way. This is not thefirst bill you've handed me, but--but it's going to be the last. Guessyour baby clothes can be packed right up. Maybe they'll be all thebetter for it when you hand 'em on to--your kiddie."
The trouble had passed out of the younger man's eyes. They were filledwith the humor inspired by his father's manner of dealing with theaffair in hand.
"That's all right," he said. "I seem to get that clear enough."
"I'm glad." The millionaire twisted the cigar into the corner of hismouth. "We can pass right on to--other things. You've been one of mysecretaries for three years, and it don't seem to me the work's worriedyou a lot. Still, I put you in early thinking you'd get interested inthe source of the dollars you were handing out in bunches. Maybe itwasn't the best way of doing it. Still, I had to try it. You see,it's a great organization I control--though you may not know it. Icontrol more millions than you could count on your fingers and toes,and they've cost me some mental sweat gathering 'em together. Some dayyou've got to sit in this chair and talk over this 'phone, and when youdo you'll be--a man. You see, I don't fancy my pile being invested incut flowers and automobiles for lady friends. I don't seem to haveheard that thousand-dollar parties to boys who can't smoke a five-centcigar right, and girls who're just out for a good time anyway, areliable to bring you interest on the capital invested, except in the wayof contempt. And five-thousand dollar apartments are calculated torival the luxury of Rome before its fall. Big play at 'draw' and'auction' are two diseases not provided for amongst the cures in patentmed'cine advertisements, and as for the older vintages in wines,they're only permissible in folks who've quit worrying to scratchdollars together. None of these things seem to me good business, andin a man at the outset of his career some of 'em are--immoral. You'vehad your preliminary run, and I'll admit you've shown a fine turn ofspeed. But it smacks too much of the race-track, and seems to me quiteunsuited to the hard highroad of big finance you're destined to travel.
"Just one moment," he went on, as, with flushing cheeks and half-angryeyes, his son was about to break in. "You haven't got the point ofthis talk yet. This bill you've handed me don't figure as largely init as you might guess. I've thought about things these months. Idon't blame you a thing. I'm not kicking. The fact you've got to graband get your hind teeth into is that there comes a time when two can'tspend one fortune with any degree of amicability. It's a sort ofproposition like two dogs and a bone. Now from a canine point of viewthat bone certainly belongs to one of those dogs. No two dogs everstole a bone together. Consequently, the situation ends in a scrap,and it isn't always a cert. that the right thief gets the bone. How itwould work out between us I'm not prepared to gu
ess, but, as 'scrap'don't belong to the vocabulary between us, we'll handle the matter inanother way. Seeing the fortune--at present--belongs to me, I'll dothe spending in--my own way. My way is mighty simple, too, as far asyou're concerned. I'm going to stake you all you need, so you can getout and find a bone you can worry on _your own_. That's how you'regoing to pay this bill. You're going to get busy quitting play. Weare, and always have been, and always will be, just two great bigfriends, and I'd like you to remember that when I say that the lifeyou're living is all right for a boy, but in a man it leads to dirtyditches that aren't easy climbing out of, and--you can't do clean workwith dirty hands. When you've shown me you're capable of collecting abone for your own worrying--why, you can come right back here, and I'llbe pleased and proud to hand over the reins of this organization, andI'll be mighty content to sit around in one of the back seats and getbusy with the applause. Now you talk."
Gordon began without a moment's hesitation. Something of his heat hadpassed, but it still remained near the surface.
"Quite time I did," he cried almost sharply. "Look here, father, Idon't think you meant all you said the way your talk conveyed it. Tome the most important of your talk is the implied immorality of my modeof life. Then the inconsistent fashion in which you point my waytowards--big finance."
His eyes lit again. They had suddenly become dangerously bright.
"Here, we're not going to quarrel, nor get angry," he went on,gathering heat of manner even in his denial. "We're too great friendsfor that, and you've always been too good a sportsman to me, but--butI'm not going to sit and listen to you or anybody else accusing me ofimmorality without kicking with all my strength!"
He brought one great fist down on the desk with a bang that set theink-wells and other objects dancing perilously.
"I'm not angry with you. I couldn't get angry with you," he proceeded,with a suppressed excitement that added to his father's smile; "but Itell you right here I'll not stand for it from you or anybody. My onlycrime is spending your money, which you have always encouraged me todo. From my university days to now my whole leisure has been given upto athletics. A man can't live immorally and win the contests I havewon. I don't need to name them. Boxing, sculling, running, baseball,swimming. You know that. Any sane man knows that. The money I'vespent has been spent in the ordinary course of the life to which youhave brought me up. You have always impressed on me the great positionyou occupy and the necessity for keeping my end up. That's all I haveto say about my debts, but I have something to say on the subject ofthe inconsistency with which you censure immorality in the same breathas you demand my immediate plunge into the mire of big finance."
He paused for a moment. Then, as abruptly as it had arisen, his heatdied down, and gave place to the ready humor of his real nature.
"Gee, I want to laugh!" He sprang from his seat and began to pace thefloor, talking as he moved. His father watched him with twinkling,affectionate eyes. "Immorality? Psha! Was there ever anything moreimmoral than modern finance? You imply I have learned nothing of yourorganization in the three years I've been one of your secretaries.Dad," he warned, "I've learned enough to have a profound contempt forthe methods of big corporations in this country, or anywhere else.It's all graft--graft of one sort or another. Do you need me to tell_you_ of it? No, I don't think so. Twenty-five millions wouldn'tcover the fortune you've made. I know that well enough. How has itbeen made? Here, I'll just give you one instance of the machinationsof a big corporation. How did you gain control of the Union Graylingand Ukataw Railroad? Psha! What's the use? You know. You hammeredit, hammered it to nothing. You got your own people into it, and satback while they ran it nearly into bankruptcy under your orders. Thenyou bought. Bought it right up, and--sent it ahead. Immoral? Itmakes me sweat to think of the people who must have lost fortunes inthat scoop. Immoral? Why, I tell you, Dad, any man can make a pile ifhe sticks to the old saw: 'Don't butt up against the law--just dodgeit.' It's only difficult for the fellow who remembers hisSunday-school days. So far, Dad, I've avoided immorality. I'm waitingtill I start on big finance to become its victim. That's my talk. Nowyou do some."
His father nodded. Then he said dryly, "This carpet cost me fivehundred dollars, that chair fifty. Try the chair."
Gordon laughed at the imperturbable smile on his father's face, but heflung his great body into the chair.
James Carbhoy deliberately knocked the ash from his cigar. It was manyyears since he had received such a straight talk from any man. Some ofit had stung--stung sharply, but the justice or injustice of it he setaside. His whole mind and heart were upon other matters. He took noumbrage. He swept all personal feeling aside and regarded the boy whomhe idolized.
"We've both made some talk," he observed, "but I think the last word'swith me. I don't seem to be sure which of us has put up the bluff.Maybe we both have. Anyway, right here and now I'm going to call yourhand. I offered you a stake. You say it's easy to make a pile. Canyou make a pile?"
Gordon shrugged.
"Why, yes. If I follow your wish and embark on--big finance.And--forget my Sunday school."
The millionaire gathered up the sheaf of loose accounts on the desk andheld them up. His smile was grim and challenging.
"One hundred thousand dollars these bills represent. The cashier willhand you a check for that amount. Say, you've shown your ability tospend that amount; can you show your ability to make it?"
For a moment the boy's blue eyes avoided the half-ironical smile of hisfather's. Then suddenly they returned the steady gaze, and a flushspread swiftly over his handsome face. Something of his father'spurpose was dawning upon him. He began to realize that the man who hadmade those many millions was far too clever for him when it came todebate. He squared his shoulders obstinately and took up thechallenge. There was no other course for him. But even as he acceptedit his heart sank at the prospect.
"Certainly," he cried. "Certainly--with a stake to start me."
His father nodded.
"Sure. That goes," he said.
Then he laid the papers on the desk, and his whole manner underwent afurther change. His eyes seemed to harden with the light of battle.There was an ironical skepticism in them. Even there was a shadow ofcontempt. For the moment it seemed as if he had forgotten that the manbefore him was his son, and regarded him merely as some rival financierseeking to beat him in a deal.
"I'll hand you one hundred thousand dollars. That's your stake. Thisis the way you'll pay those bills. You'll leave this city intwenty-four hours. You can go where you choose, do what you choose.But you must return here in twelve months' time with exactly doublethat sum. I make no conditions as to how you make the money. That'sright up to you. I shall ask no questions, and blame you for noprocess you adopt, however much I disapprove. Then, to show you howcertain I am you can't do it--why, if you make good, there's ahalf-share partnership in my organization waiting right here for you."
"A half-share partnership?" Gordon repeated incredulously. "Yousaid--a half-share?"
"That's precisely what I said."
All of a sudden the younger man flung back his head and laughed aloud.
"Why, Dad, I stand to win right along the line--anyway," he exclaimed.
The older man's eyes softened.
"Maybe it's just how you look at it."
The change in his father's manner was quite lost upon Gordon. He onlysaw his enormous advantage in this one-sided bargain.
"Say, Dad, was there ever such a father as I've got?" he criedexuberantly. "Never, never! But you're not going to monopolize allthe sportsmanship. I can play the game, too. I don't need one hundredthousand dollars on this game. I don't need twelve months to do it in.I'm not going to cut twelve months out of our lives together. Six isall I need. Six months, and five thousand dollars' stake. That's whatI need. Give me that, and I'll be back with one hundred and fivethousand dollars in six months' time. I have
n't a notion where I'mgoing or what I'm going to do. All I know is you've put it up to me tomake good, and I'm going to. I'll get that money if--if I have to roba bank."
The boy's recklessness was too much for the gravity of the financier.He sat back and laughed. He flung his half-smoked cigar away, and in amoment father and son had joined in a duel of loud-voiced mirth.
Presently, however, their laughter died out. The millionaire sprang tohis feet. His eyes were shining with delight.
"I don't care a darn how you do it, boy," he cried. "As you say, it'sup to you. You see, I've got over my Sunday-school days, as you sodelicately reminded me. That's by the way. But there's more in thisthan maybe you get right. You're going to learn that no graft can turnfive thousand dollars into one hundred thousand in six months without amighty fine commercial brain behind it. It's that brain I'm lookingfor in my son. Now get along and see your mother and sister. You'veonly got twenty-four hours' grace. Leave these bills to me. You'remaking a bid for the greatest fortune ever staked in a wager, andthings like that don't stand for any delay. Get out, Gordon, boy; getout and--make good."
He held one powerful hand out across the desk, and Gordon promptlyseized and wrung it.
"Good-by, Dad, and--God bless you."