The Titan 2 страница

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It appealed to his sense of the dramatic. Here was a man who

apparently had been dragged down to the very bottom of things, his

face forced in the mire, and now he was coming up again strong,

hopeful, urgent. The banker knew many highly respected men in

Chicago whose early careers, as he was well aware, would not bear

too close an inspection, but nothing was thought of that. Some

of them were in society, some not, but all of them were powerful.

Why should not Cowperwood be allowed to begin all over? He looked

at him steadily, at his eyes, at his stocky body, at his smooth,

handsome, mustached face. Then he held out his hand.

" Mr. Cowperwood, " he said, finally, trying to shape his words

appropriately, " I needn't say that I am pleased with this interesting

confession. It appeals to me. I'm glad you have made it to me.

You needn't say any more at any time. I decided the day I saw you

walking into that vestibule that you were an exceptional man; now

I know it. You needn't apologize to me. I haven't lived in this

world fifty years and more without having my eye-teeth cut. You're

welcome to the courtesies of this bank and of my house as long as

you care to avail yourself of them. We'll cut our cloth as

circumstances dictate in the future. I'd like to see you come to

Chicago, solely because I like you personally. If you decide to

settle here I'm sure I can be of service to you and you to me.

Don't think anything more about it; I sha'n't ever say anything

one way or another. You have your own battle to fight, and I wish

you luck. You'll get all the aid from me I can honestly give you.

Just forget that you told me, and when you get your matrimonial

affairs straightened out bring your wife out to see us. "

With these things completed Cowperwood took the train back to

Philadelphia.

" Aileen, " he said, when these two met again--she had come to the

train to meet him--" I think the West is the answer for us. I went

up to Fargo and looked around up there, but I don't believe we

want to go that far. There's nothing but prairie-grass and Indians

out in that country. How'd you like to live in a board shanty,

Aileen, " he asked, banteringly, " with nothing but fried rattlesnakes

and prairie-dogs for breakfast? Do you think you could stand that? "

" Yes, " she replied, gaily, hugging his arm, for they had entered

a closed carriage; " I could stand it if you could. I'd go anywhere

with you, Frank. I'd get me a nice Indian dress with leather and

beads all over it and a feather hat like they wear, and--"

" There you go! Certainly! Pretty clothes first of all in a miner's

shack. That's the way. "

" You wouldn't love me long if I didn't put pretty clothes first, "

she replied, spiritedly. " Oh, I'm so glad to get you back! "

" The trouble is, " he went on, " that that country up there isn't

as promising as Chicago. I think we're destined to live in Chicago.

I made an investment in Fargo, and we'll have to go up there from

time to time, but we'll eventually locate in Chicago. I don't

want to go out there alone again. It isn't pleasant for me. " He

squeezed her hand. " If we can't arrange this thing at once I'll

just have to introduce you as my wife for the present. "

" You haven't heard anything more from Mr. Steger? " she put in.

She was thinking of Steger's efforts to get Mrs. Cowperwood to

grant him a divorce.

" Not a word. "

" Isn't it too bad? " she sighed.

" Well, don't grieve. Things might be worse. "

He was thinking of his days in the penitentiary, and so was she.

After commenting on the character of Chicago he decided with her

that so soon as conditions permitted they would remove themselves

to the Western city.

It would be pointless to do more than roughly sketch the period

of three years during which the various changes which saw the

complete elimination of Cowperwood from Philadelphia and his

introduction into Chicago took place. For a time there were merely

journeys to and fro, at first more especially to Chicago, then to

Fargo, where his transported secretary, Walter Whelpley, was

managing under his direction the construction of Fargo business

blocks, a short street-car line, and a fair-ground. This interesting

venture bore the title of the Fargo Construction and Transportation

Company, of which Frank A. Cowperwood was president. His Philadelphia

lawyer, Mr. Harper Steger, was for the time being general master

of contracts.

For another short period he might have been found living at the

Tremont in Chicago, avoiding for the time being, because of Aileen's

company, anything more than a nodding contact with the important

men he had first met, while he looked quietly into the matter of

a Chicago brokerage arrangement--a partnership with some established

broker who, without too much personal ambition, would bring him a

knowledge of Chicago Stock Exchange affairs, personages, and Chicago

ventures. On one occasion he took Aileen with him to Fargo, where

with a haughty, bored insouciance she surveyed the state of the

growing city.

" Oh, Frank! " she exclaimed, when she saw the plain, wooden,

four-story hotel, the long, unpleasing business street, with its

motley collection of frame and brick stores, the gaping stretches of

houses, facing in most directions unpaved streets. Aileen in her

tailored spick-and-spanness, her self-conscious vigor, vanity, and

tendency to over-ornament, was a strange contrast to the rugged

self-effacement and indifference to personal charm which characterized

most of the men and women of this new metropolis. " You didn't

seriously think of coming out here to live, did you? "

She was wondering where her chance for social exchange would come

in--her opportunity to shine. Suppose her Frank were to be very

rich; suppose he did make very much money--much more than he had

ever had even in the past--what good would it do her here? In

Philadelphia, before his failure, before she had been suspected

of the secret liaison with him, he had been beginning (at least)

to entertain in a very pretentious way. If she had been his wife

then she might have stepped smartly into Philadelphia society.

Out here, good gracious! She turned up her pretty nose in disgust.

" What an awful place! " was her one comment at this most stirring

of Western boom towns.

When it came to Chicago, however, and its swirling, increasing

life, Aileen was much interested. Between attending to many

financial matters Cowperwood saw to it that she was not left alone.

He asked her to shop in the local stores and tell him about them;

and this she did, driving around in an open carriage, attractively

arrayed, a great brown hat emphasizing her pink-and-white complexion

and red-gold hair. On different afternoons of their stay he took

her to drive over the principal streets. When Aileen was permitted

for the first time to see the spacious beauty and richness of

Prairie Avenue, the North Shore Drive, Michigan Avenue, and the

new mansions on Ashland Boulevard, set in their grassy spaces, the

spirit, aspirations, hope, tang of the future Chicago began to

work in her blood as it had in Cowperwood's. All of these rich

homes were so very new. The great people of Chicago were all newly

rich like themselves. She forgot that as yet she was not Cowperwood's

wife; she felt herself truly to be so. The streets, set in most

instances with a pleasing creamish-brown flagging, lined with

young, newly planted trees, the lawns sown to smooth green grass,

the windows of the houses trimmed with bright awnings and hung

with intricate lace, blowing in a June breeze, the roadways a gray,

gritty macadam--all these things touched her fancy. On one drive

they skirted the lake on the North Shore, and Aileen, contemplating

the chalky, bluish-green waters, the distant sails, the gulls, and

then the new bright homes, reflected that in all certitude she

would some day be the mistress of one of these splendid mansions.

How haughtily she would carry herself; how she would dress! They

would have a splendid house, much finer, no doubt, than Frank's

old one in Philadelphia, with a great ball-room and dining-room

where she could give dances and dinners, and where Frank and she

would receive as the peers of these Chicago rich people.

" Do you suppose we will ever have a house as fine as one of these,

Frank? " she asked him, longingly.

" I'll tell you what my plan is, " he said. " If you like this

Michigan Avenue section we'll buy a piece of property out here now

and hold it. Just as soon as I make the right connections here

and see what I am going to do we'll build a house--something really

nice--don't worry. I want to get this divorce matter settled, and

then we'll begin. Meanwhile, if we have to come here, we'd better

live rather quietly. Don't you think so? "

It was now between five and six, that richest portion of a summer

day. It had been very warm, but was now cooling, the shade of the

western building-line shadowing the roadway, a moted, wine-like

air filling the street. As far as the eye could see were carriages,

the one great social diversion of Chicago, because there was

otherwise so little opportunity for many to show that they had

means. The social forces were not as yet clear or harmonious.

Jingling harnesses of nickel, silver, and even plated gold were

the sign manual of social hope, if not of achievement. Here sped

homeward from the city--from office and manufactory--along this

one exceptional southern highway, the Via Appia of the South Side,

all the urgent aspirants to notable fortunes. Men of wealth who

had met only casually in trade here nodded to each other. Smart

daughters, society-bred sons, handsome wives came down-town in

traps, Victorias, carriages, and vehicles of the latest design to

drive home their trade-weary fathers or brothers, relatives or

friends. The air was gay with a social hope, a promise of youth

and affection, and that fine flush of material life that recreates

itself in delight. Lithe, handsome, well-bred animals, singly and

in jingling pairs, paced each other down the long, wide, grass-lined

street, its fine homes agleam with a rich, complaisant materiality.

" Oh! " exclaimed Aileen, all at once, seeing the vigorous, forceful

men, the handsome matrons, and young women and boys, the nodding

and the bowing, feeling a touch of the romance and wonder of it

all. " I should like to live in Chicago. I believe it's nicer

than Philadelphia. "

Cowperwood, who had fallen so low there, despite his immense

capacity, set his teeth in two even rows. His handsome mustache

seemed at this moment to have an especially defiant curl. The

pair he was driving was physically perfect, lean and nervous, with

spoiled, petted faces. He could not endure poor horse-flesh. He

drove as only a horse-lover can, his body bolt upright, his own

energy and temperament animating his animals. Aileen sat beside

him, very proud, consciously erect.

" Isn't she beautiful? " some of the women observed, as they passed,

going north. " What a stunning young woman! " thought or said the

men.

" Did you see her? " asked a young brother of his sister. " Never

mind, Aileen, " commented Cowperwood, with that iron determination

that brooks no defeat. " We will be a part of this. Don't fret.

You will have everything you want in Chicago, and more besides. "

There was tingling over his fingers, into the reins, into the

horses, a mysterious vibrating current that was his chemical

product, the off-giving of his spirit battery that made his hired

horses prance like children. They chafed and tossed their heads

and snorted. Aileen was fairly bursting with hope and vanity

and longing. Oh, to be Mrs. Frank Algernon Cowperwood here in

Chicago, to have a splendid mansion, to have her cards of invitation

practically commands which might not be ignored!

" Oh, dear! " she sighed to herself, mentally. " If only it were all

true--now. "

It is thus that life at its topmost toss irks and pains. Beyond

is ever the unattainable, the lure of the infinite with its infinite

ache.

" Oh, life! oh, youth! oh, hope! oh, years! Oh pain-winged fancy,

beating forth with fears. "

Chapter IV

Peter Laughlin & Co.

The partnership which Cowperwood eventually made with an old-time

Board of Trade operator, Peter Laughlin, was eminently to his

satisfaction. Laughlin was a tall, gaunt speculator who had spent

most of his living days in Chicago, having come there as a boy

from western Missouri. He was a typical Chicago Board of Trade

operator of the old school, having an Andrew Jacksonish countenance,

and a Henry Clay--Davy Crockett--" Long John" Wentworth build of

body.

Cowperwood from his youth up had had a curious interest in quaint

characters, and he was interesting to them; they " took" to him.

He could, if he chose to take the trouble, fit himself in with the

odd psychology of almost any individual. In his early peregrinations

in La Salle Street he inquired after clever traders on 'change,

and then gave them one small commission after another in order to

get acquainted. Thus he stumbled one morning on old Peter Laughlin,

wheat and corn trader, who had an office in La Salle Street near

Madison, and who did a modest business gambling for himself and

others in grain and Eastern railway shares. Laughlin was a shrewd,

canny American, originally, perhaps, of Scotch extraction, who had

all the traditional American blemishes of uncouthness, tobacco-chewing,

profanity, and other small vices. Cowperwood could tell from

looking at him that he must have a fund of information concerning

every current Chicagoan of importance, and this fact alone was

certain to be of value. Then the old man was direct, plain-spoken,

simple-appearing, and wholly unpretentious--qualities which

Cowperwood deemed invaluable.

Once or twice in the last three years Laughlin had lost heavily

on private " corners" that he had attempted to engineer, and the

general feeling was that he was now becoming cautious, or, in other

words, afraid. " Just the man, " Cowperwood thought. So one morning

he called upon Laughlin, intending to open a small account with him.

" Henry, " he heard the old man say, as he entered Laughlin's

fair-sized but rather dusty office, to a young, preternaturally

solemn-looking clerk, a fit assistant for Peter Laughlin, " git me

them there Pittsburg and Lake Erie sheers, will you? " Seeing

Cowperwood waiting, he added, " What kin I do for ye? "

Cowperwood smiled. " So he calls them 'sheers, ' does he? " he

thought. " Good! I think I'll like him. "

He introduced himself as coming from Philadelphia, and went on to

say that he was interested in various Chicago ventures, inclined

to invest in any good stock which would rise, and particularly

desirous to buy into some corporation--public utility preferred

--which would be certain to grow with the expansion of the city.

Old Laughlin, who was now all of sixty years of age, owned a seat

on the Board, and was worth in the neighborhood of two hundred

thousand dollars, looked at Cowperwood quizzically.

" Well, now, if you'd 'a' come along here ten or fifteen years ago

you might 'a' got in on the ground floor of a lot of things, " he

observed. " There was these here gas companies, now, that them

Otway and Apperson boys got in on, and then all these here

street-railways. Why, I'm the feller that told Eddie Parkinson

what a fine thing he could make out of it if he would go and

organize that North State Street line. He promised me a bunch of

sheers if he ever worked it out, but he never give 'em to me. I

didn't expect him to, though, " he added, wisely, and with a glint.

" I'm too old a trader for that. He's out of it now, anyway. That

Michaels-Kennelly crowd skinned him. Yep, if you'd 'a' been here

ten or fifteen years ago you might 'a' got in on that. 'Tain't

no use a-thinkin' about that, though, any more. Them sheers is

sellin' fer clost onto a hundred and sixty. "

Cowperwood smiled. " Well, Mr. Laughlin, " he observed, " you must

have been on 'change a long time here. You seem to know a good

deal of what has gone on in the past. "

Yep, ever since 1852, " replied the old man. He had a thick growth

of upstanding hair looking not unlike a rooster's comb, a long and

what threatened eventually to become a Punch-and-Judy chin, a

slightly aquiline nose, high cheek-bones, and hollow, brown-skinned

cheeks. His eyes were as clear and sharp as those of a lynx.

" To tell you the truth, Mr. Laughlin, " went on Cowperwood, " what

I'm really out here in Chicago for is to find a man with whom I

can go into partnership in the brokerage business. Now I'm in the

banking and brokerage business myself in the East. I have a firm

in Philadelphia and a seat on both the New York and Philadelphia

exchanges. I have some affairs in Fargo also. Any trade agency

can tell you about me. You have a Board of Trade seat here, and

no doubt you do some New York and Philadelphia exchange business.

The new firm, if you would go in with me, could handle it all

direct. I'm a rather strong outside man myself. I'm thinking of

locating permanently in Chicago. What would you say now to going

into business with me? Do you think we could get along in the same

office space? "

Cowperwood had a way, when he wanted to be pleasant, of beating

the fingers of his two hands together, finger for finger, tip for

tip. He also smiled at the same time--or, rather, beamed--his

eyes glowing with a warm, magnetic, seemingly affectionate light.

As it happened, old Peter Laughlin had arrived at that psychological

moment when he was wishing that some such opportunity as this might

appear and be available. He was a lonely man, never having been

able to bring himself to trust his peculiar temperament in the

hands of any woman. As a matter of fact, he had never understood

women at all, his relations being confined to those sad immoralities

of the cheapest character which only money--grudgingly given, at

that--could buy. He lived in three small rooms in West Harrison

Street, near Throup, where he cooked his own meals at times. His

one companion was a small spaniel, simple and affectionate, a she

dog, Jennie by name, with whom he slept. Jennie was a docile,

loving companion, waiting for him patiently by day in his office

until he was ready to go home at night. He talked to this spaniel

quite as he would to a human being (even more intimately, perhaps),

taking the dog's glances, tail-waggings, and general movements for

answer. In the morning when he arose, which was often as early

as half past four, or even four--he was a brief sleeper--he would

begin by pulling on his trousers (he seldom bathed any more except

at a down-town barber shop) and talking to Jennie.

" Git up, now, Jinnie, " he would say. " It's time to git up. We've

got to make our coffee now and git some breakfast. I can see yuh,

lyin' there, pertendin' to be asleep. Come on, now! You've had

sleep enough. You've been sleepin' as long as I have. "

Jennie would be watching him out of the corner of one loving eye,

her tail tap-tapping on the bed, her free ear going up and down.

When he was fully dressed, his face and hands washed, his old

string tie pulled around into a loose and convenient knot, his

hair brushed upward, Jennie would get up and jump demonstratively

about, as much as to say, " You see how prompt I am. "

" That's the way, " old Laughlin would comment. " Allers last. Yuh

never git up first, do yuh, Jinnie? Allers let yer old man do that,

don't you? "

On bitter days, when the car-wheels squeaked and one's ears and

fingers seemed to be in danger of freezing, old Laughlin, arrayed

in a heavy, dusty greatcoat of ancient vintage and a square hat,

would carry Jennie down-town in a greenish-black bag along with

some of his beloved " sheers" which he was meditating on. Only

then could he take Jennie in the cars. On other days they would

walk, for he liked exercise. He would get to his office as early

as seven-thirty or eight, though business did not usually begin

until after nine, and remain until four-thirty or five, reading

the papers or calculating during the hours when there were no

customers. Then he would take Jennie and go for a walk or to call

on some business acquaintance. His home room, the newspapers, the

floor of the exchange, his offices, and the streets were his only

resources. He cared nothing for plays, books, pictures, music--and

for women only in his one-angled, mentally impoverished way. His

limitations were so marked that to a lover of character like

Cowperwood he was fascinating--but Cowperwood only used character.

He never idled over it long artistically.

As Cowperwood suspected, what old Laughlin did not know about

Chicago financial conditions, deals, opportunities, and individuals

was scarcely worth knowing. Being only a trader by instinct,

neither an organizer nor an executive, he had never been able to

make any great constructive use of his knowledge. His gains and

his losses he took with reasonable equanimity, exclaiming over and

over, when he lost: " Shucks! I hadn't orter have done that, " and

snapping his fingers. When he won heavily or was winning he munched

tobacco with a seraphic smile and occasionally in the midst of

trading would exclaim: " You fellers better come in. It's a-gonta

rain some more. " He was not easy to trap in any small gambling

game, and only lost or won when there was a free, open struggle

in the market, or when be was engineering some little scheme of

his own.

The matter of this partnership was not arranged at once, although

it did not take long. Old Peter Laughlin wanted to think it over,

although he had immediately developed a personal fancy for Cowperwood.

In a way he was the latter's victim and servant from the start.

They met day after day to discuss various details and terms;

finally, true to his instincts, old Peter demanded a full half

interest.

" Now, you don't want that much, Laughlin, " Cowperwood suggested,

quite blandly. They were sitting in Laughlin's private office

between four and five in the afternoon, and Laughlin was chewing

tobacco with the sense of having a fine, interesting problem before

him. " I have a seat on the New York Stock Exchange, " he went on,

" and that's worth forty thousand dollars. My seat on the Philadelphia

exchange is worth more than yours here. They will naturally figure

as the principal assets of the firm. It's to be in your name.

I'll be liberal with you, though. Instead of a third, which would

be fair, I'll make it forty-nine per cent., and we'll call the

firm Peter Laughlin & Co. I like you, and I think you can be of

a lot of use to me. I know you will make more money through me

than you have alone. I could go in with a lot of these silk-stocking

fellows around here, but I don't want to. You'd better decide

right now, and let's get to work.

Old Laughlin was pleased beyond measure that young Cowperwood

should want to go in with him. He had become aware of late that

all of the young, smug newcomers on 'change considered him an old

fogy. Here was a strong, brave young Easterner, twenty years his

junior, evidently as shrewd as himself--more so, he feared--who

actually proposed a business alliance. Besides, Cowperwood, in

his young, healthy, aggressive way, was like a breath of spring.

" I ain't keerin' so much about the name, " rejoined Laughlin. " You

can fix it that-a-way if you want to. Givin' you fifty-one per

cent. gives you charge of this here shebang. All right, though;

I ain't a-kickin'. I guess I can manage allus to git what's

a-comin' to me.

" It's a bargain, then, " said Cowperwood. " We'll want new offices,

Laughlin, don't you think? This one's a little dark. "

" Fix it up any way you like, Mr. Cowperwood. It's all the same

to me. I'll be glad to see how yer do it. "

In a week the details were completed, and two weeks later the sign

of Peter Laughlin & Co., grain and commission merchants, appeared

over the door of a handsome suite of rooms on the ground floor of

a corner at La Salle and Madison, in the heart of the Chicago

financial district.

" Get onto old Laughlin, will you? " one broker observed to another,

as they passed the new, pretentious commission-house with its

splendid plate-glass windows, and observed the heavy, ornate bronze

sign placed on either side of the door, which was located exactly

on the corner. " What's struck him? I thought he was almost all

through. Who's the Company? "

" I don't know. Some fellow from the East, I think. "

" Well, he's certainly moving up. Look at the plate glass, will

you? "

It was thus that Frank Algernon Cowperwood's Chicago financial

career was definitely launched.

Chapter V

Concerning A Wife And Family

If any one fancies for a moment that this commercial move on the

part of Cowperwood was either hasty or ill-considered they but

little appreciate the incisive, apprehensive psychology of the

man. His thoughts as to life and control (tempered and hardened

by thirteen months of reflection in the Eastern District Penitentiary)

had given him a fixed policy. He could, should, and would rule

alone. No man must ever again have the least claim on him save

that of a suppliant. He wanted no more dangerous combinations

such as he had had with Stener, the man through whom he had lost

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