The Titan 16 страница

⇐ ПредыдущаяСтр 32 из 61Следующая ⇒

was most interested. Lacking the commanding magnetism of a man

like MacDonald, he was nevertheless an honest man, well-intentioned,

thoughtful, careful. Haguenin, ever since the outcome of Cowperwood's

gas transaction, had been intensely interested in the latter's

career. It seemed to him that Cowperwood was probably destined

to become a significant figure. Raw, glittering force, however,

compounded of the cruel Machiavellianism of nature, if it be but

Machiavellian, seems to exercise a profound attraction for the

conventionally rooted. Your cautious citizen of average means,

looking out through the eye of his dull world of seeming fact, is

often the first to forgive or condone the grim butcheries of theory

by which the strong rise. Haguenin, observing Cowperwood, conceived

of him as a man perhaps as much sinned against as sinning, a man

who would be faithful to friends, one who could be relied upon in

hours of great stress. As it happened, the Haguenins were neighbors

of the Cowperwoods, and since those days when the latter had

attempted unsuccessfully to enter Chicago society this family had

been as acceptable as any of those who had remained friendly.

And so, when Cowperwood arrived one day at the office of the Press

in a blowing snow-storm--it was just before the Christmas holidays

--Haguenin was glad to see him. " It's certainly real winter weather

we're having now, isn't it? " he observed, cheerfully. " How goes

the North Chicago Street Railway business? " For months he, with

the other publishers, had been aware that the whole North Side

was to be made over by fine cable-tracks, power-houses, and handsome

cars; and there already was talk that some better arrangement was

to be made to bring the passengers into the down-town section.

" Mr. Haguenin, " said Cowperwood, smilingly--he was arrayed in a

heavy fur coat, with a collar of beaver and driving-gauntlets of

dogskin--" we have reached the place in this street-railway problem

on the North Side where we are going to require the assistance of

the newspapers, or at least their friendly support. At present

our principal difficulty is that all our lines, when they come

down-town, stop at Lake Street--just this side of the bridges.

That means a long walk for everybody to all the streets south of

it, and, as you probably know, there has been considerable complaint.

Besides that, this river traffic is becoming more and more what I

may say it has been for years--an intolerable nuisance. We have

all suffered from it. No effort has ever been made to regulate

it, and because it is so heavy I doubt whether it ever can be

systematized in any satisfactory way. The best thing in the long

run would be to tunnel under the river; but that is such an

expensive proposition that, as things are now, we are in no position

to undertake it. The traffic on the North Side does not warrant

it. It really does not warrant the reconstruction of the three

bridges which we now use at State, Dearborn, and Clark; yet, if

we introduce the cable system, which we now propose, these bridges

will have to be done over. It seems to me, seeing that this is

an enterprise in which the public is as much interested almost as

we are, that it would only be fair if the city should help pay

for this reconstruction work. All the land adjacent to these lines,

and the property served by them, will be greatly enhanced in value.

The city's taxing power will rise tremendously. I have talked to

several financiers here in Chicago, and they agree with me; but,

as is usual in all such cases, I find that some of the politicians

are against me. Since I have taken charge of the North Chicago

company the attitude of one or two papers has not been any too

friendly. " (In the Chronicle, controlled by Schryhart, there had

already been a number of references to the probability that now,

since Cowperwood and his friends were in charge, the sky-rocketing

tactics of the old Lake View, Hyde Park, and other gas organizations

would be repeated. Braxton's Globe, owned by Merrill, being

semi-neutral, had merely suggested that it hoped that no such

methods would be repeated here. ) " Perhaps you may know, " Cowperwood

continued, " that we have a very sweeping programme of improvement

in mind, if we can obtain proper public consideration and assistance. "

At this point he reached down in one of his pockets and drew forth

astutely drafted maps and blue-prints, especially prepared for

this occasion. They showed main cable lines on North Clark, La

Salle, and Wells streets. These lines coming down-town converged

at Illinois and La Salle streets on the North Side--and though

Cowperwood made no reference to it at the moment, they were indicated

on the map in red as running over or under the river at La Salle

Street, where was no bridge, and emerging therefrom, following a

loop along La Salle to Munroe, to Dearborn, to Randolph, and thence

into the tunnel again. Cowperwood allowed Haguenin to gather the

very interesting traffic significance of it all before he proceeded.

" On the map, Mr. Haguenin, I have indicated a plan which, if we

can gain the consent of the city, will obviate any quarrel as to

the great expense of reconstructing the bridges, and will make use

of a piece of property which is absolutely without value to the

city at present, but which can be made into something of vast

convenience to the public. I am referring, as you see" --he laid

an indicative finger on the map in Mr. Haguenin's hands--" to the

old La Salle Street tunnel, which is now boarded up and absolutely

of no use to any one. It was built apparently under a misapprehension

as to the grade the average loaded wagon could negotiate. When

it was found to be unprofitable it was sold to the city and locked

up. If you have ever been through it you know what condition it

is in. My engineers tell me the walls are leaking, and that there

is great danger of a cave-in unless it is very speedily repaired.

I am also told that it will require about four hundred thousand

dollars to put it in suitable condition for use. My theory is

that if the North Chicago Street Railway is willing to go to this

expense for the sake of solving this bridge-crush problem, and

giving the residents of the North Side a sensible and uninterrupted

service into the business heart, the city ought to be willing to

make us a present of this tunnel for the time being, or at least

a long lease at a purely nominal rental. "

Cowperwood paused to see what Haguenin would say.

The latter was looking at the map gravely, wondering whether it

was fair for Cowperwood to make this demand, wondering whether the

city should grant it to him without compensation, wondering whether

the bridge-traffic problem was as serious as he pointed out,

wondering, indeed, whether this whole move was not a clever ruse

to obtain something for nothing.

" And what is this? " he asked, laying a finger on the aforementioned

loop.

" That, " replied Cowperwood, " is the only method we have been able

to figure out of serving the down-town business section and the

North Side, and of solving this bridge problem. If we obtain the

tunnel, as I hope we shall, all the cars of these North Side lines

will emerge here" --he pointed to La Salle and Randolph--" and swing

around--that is, they will if the city council give us the right

of way. I think, of course, there can be no reasonable objection

to that. There is no reason why the citizens of the North Side

shouldn't have as comfortable an access to the business heart as

those of the West or South Side. "

" None in the world, " Mr. Haguenin was compelled to admit. " Are

you satisfied, however, that the council and the city should

sanction the gift of a loop of this kind without some form of

compensation? "

" I see no reason why they shouldn't, " replied Cowperwood, in a

somewhat injured tone. " There has never been any question of

compensation where other improvements have been suggested for the

city in the past. The South Side company has been allowed to turn

in a loop around State and Wabash. The Chicago City Passenger

Railway has a loop in Adams and Washington streets. "

" Quite so, " said Mr. Haguenin, vaguely. " That is true. But this

tunnel, now--do you think that should fall in the same category

of public beneficences? "

At the same time he could not help thinking, as he looked at the

proposed loop indicated on the map, that the new cable line, with

its string of trailers, would give down-town Chicago a truly

metropolitan air and would provide a splendid outlet for the North

Side. The streets in question were magnificent commercial

thoroughfares, crowded even at this date with structures five,

six, seven, and even eight stories high, and brimming with heavy

streams of eager life--young, fresh, optimistic. Because of the

narrow area into which the commercial life of the city tended to

congest itself, this property and these streets were immensely

valuable--among the most valuable in the whole city. Also he

observed that if this loop did come here its cars, on their return

trip along Dearborn Street, would pass by his very door--the

office of the Press--thereby enhancing the value of that property

of which he was the owner.

" I certainly do, Mr. Haguenin, " returned Cowperwood, emphatically,

in answer to his query. " Personally, I should think Chicago would

be glad to pay a bonus to get its street-railway service straightened

out, especially where a corporation comes forward with a liberal,

conservative programme such as this. It means millions in growth

of property values on the North Side. It means millions to the

business heart to have this loop system laid down just as I suggest. "

He put his finger firmly on the map which he had brought, and

Haguenin agreed with him that the plan was undoubtedly a sound

business proposition. " Personally, I should be the last to

complain, " he added, " for the line passes my door. At the same

time this tunnel, as I understand it, cost in the neighborhood of

eight hundred thousand or a million dollars. It is a delicate

problem. I should like to know what the other editors think of

it, and how the city council itself would feel toward it. "

Cowperwood nodded. " Certainly, certainly, " he said. " With pleasure.

I would not come here at all if I did not feel that I had a perfectly

legitimate proposition--one that the press of the city should unite

in supporting. Where a corporation such as ours is facing large

expenditures, which have to be financed by outside capital, it is

only natural that we should wish to allay useless, groundless

opposition in advance. I hope we may command your support. "

" I hope you may, " smiled Mr. Haguenin. They parted the best of

friends.

The other publishers, guardians of the city's privileges, were not

quite so genial as Haguenin in their approval of Cowperwood's

proposition. The use of a tunnel and several of the most important

down-town streets might readily be essential to the development

of Cowperwood's North Side schemes, but the gift of them was a

different matter. Already, as a matter of fact, the various

publishers and editors had been consulted by Schryhart, Merrill,

and others with a view to discovering how they felt as to this new

venture, and whether Cowperwood would be cheerfully indorsed or

not. Schryhart, smarting from the wounds he had received in the

gas war, viewed this new activity on Cowperwood's part with a

suspicious and envious eye. To him much more than to the others

it spelled a new and dangerous foe in the street-railway field,

although all the leading citizens of Chicago were interested.

" I suppose now, " he said one evening to the Hon. Walter Melville

Hyssop, editor and publisher of the Transcript and the Evening

Mail, whom he met at the Union League, " that this fellow Cowperwood

will attempt some disturbing coup in connection with street-railway

affairs. He is just the sort. I think, from an editorial point

of view, his political connections will bear watching. " Already

there were rumors abroad that McKenty might have something to do

with the new company.

Hyssop, a medium-sized, ornate, conservative person, was not so

sure. " We shall find out soon enough, no doubt, what propositions

Mr. Cowperwood has in hand, " he remarked. " He is very energetic

and capable, as I understand it. "

Hyssop and Schryhart, as well as the latter and Merrill, had been

social friends for years and years.

After his call on Mr. Haguenin, Cowperwood's naturally selective

and self-protective judgment led him next to the office of the

Inquirer, old General MacDonald's paper, where he found that because

of rhuematism and the severe, inclement weather of Chicago, the

old General had sailed only a few days before for Italy. His son,

an aggressive, mercantile type of youth of thirty-two, and a

managing editor by the name of Du Bois were acting in his stead.

In the son, Truman Leslie MacDonald, an intense, calm, and penetrating

young man, Cowperwood encountered some one who, like himself, saw

life only from the point of view of sharp, self-centered, personal

advantage. What was he, Truman Leslie MacDonald, to derive from

any given situation, and how was he to make the Inquirer an even

greater property than it had been under his father before him? He

did not propose to be overwhelmed by the old General's rather

flowery reputation. At the same time he meant to become imposingly

rich. An active member of a young and very smart set which had

been growing up on the North Side, he rode, drove, was instrumental

in organizing a new and exclusive country club, and despised the

rank and file as unsuited to the fine atmosphere to which he

aspired. Mr. Clifford Du Bois, the managing editor, was a cool

reprobate of forty, masquerading as a gentleman, and using the

Inquirer in subtle ways for furthering his personal ends, and that

under the old General's very nose. He was osseous, sandy-haired,

blue-eyed, with a keen, formidable nose and a solid chin. Clifford

Du Bois was always careful never to let his left hand know what

his right hand did.

It was this sapient pair that received Cowperwood in the old

General's absence, first in Mr. Du Bois's room and then in that

of Mr. MacDonald. The latter had already heard much of Cowperwood's

doings. Men who had been connected with the old gas war--Jordan

Jules, for instance, president of the old North Chicago Gas Company,

and Hudson Baker, president of the old West Chicago Gas Company

--had denounced him long before as a bucaneer who had pirated them

out of very comfortable sinecures. Here he was now invading the

North Chicago street-railway field and coming with startling schemes

for the reorganization of the down-town business heart. Why shouldn't

the city have something in return; or, better yet, those who helped

to formulate the public opinion, so influential in the success of

Cowperwood's plans? Truman Leslie MacDonald, as has been said, did

not see life from his father's point of view at all. He had in

mind a sharp bargain, which he could drive with Cowperwood during

the old gentleman's absence. The General need never know.

" I understand your point of view, Mr. Cowperwood, " he commented,

loftily, " but where does the city come in? I see very clearly how

important this is to the people of the North Side, and even to the

merchants and real-estate owners in the down-town section; but

that simply means that it is ten times as important to you.

Undoubtedly, it will help the city, but the city is growing, anyhow,

and that will help you. I've said all along that these public

franchises were worth more than they used to be worth. Nobody

seems to see it very clearly as yet, but it's true just the same.

That tunnel is worth more now than the day it was built. Even if

the city can't use it, somebody can.

He was meaning to indicate a rival car line.

Cowperwood bristled internally.

" That's all very well, " he said, preserving his surface composure,

" but why make fish of one and flesh of another? The South Side

company has a loop for which it never paid a dollar. So has the

Chicago City Passenger Railway. The North Side company is planning

more extensive improvements than were ever undertaken by any single

company before. I hardly think it is fair to raise the question

of compensation and a franchise tax at this time, and in connection

with this one company only. "

" Um--well, that may be true of the other companies. The South

Side company had those streets long ago. They merely connected

them up. But this tunnel, now--that's a different matter, isn't

it? The city bought and paid for that, didn't it? "

" Quite true--to help out men who saw that they couldn't make another

dollar out of it, " said Cowperwood, acidly. " But it's of no use

to the city. It will cave in pretty soon if it isn't repaired.

Why, the consent of property-owners alone, along the line of this

loop, is going to aggregate a considerable sum. It seems to me

instead of hampering a great work of this kind the public ought

to do everything in its power to assist it. It means giving a new

metropolitan flavor to this down-town section. It is time Chicago

was getting out of its swaddling clothes. "

Mr. MacDonald, the younger, shook his head. He saw clearly enough

the significance of the points made, but he was jealous of Cowperwood

and of his success. This loop franchise and tunnel gift meant

millions for some one. Why shouldn't there be something in it for

him? He called in Mr. Du Bois and went over the proposition with

him. Quite without effort the latter sensed the drift of the

situation.

" It's an excellent proposition, " he said. " I don't see but that

the city should have something, though. Public sentiment is rather

against gifts to corporations just at present. "

Cowperwood caught the drift of what was in young MacDonald's mind.

" Well, what would you suggest as a fair rate of compensation to

the city? " he asked, cautiously, wondering whether this aggressive

youth would go so far as to commit himself in any way.

" Oh, well, as to that, " MacDonald replied, with a deprecatory wave

of his hand, " I couldn't say. It ought to bear a reasonable

relationship to the value of the utility as it now stands. I

should want to think that over. I shouldn't want to see the city

demand anything unreasonable. Certainly, though, there is a

privilege here that is worth something. "

Cowperwood flared inwardly. His greatest weakness, if he had one,

was that he could but ill brook opposition of any kind. This young

upstart, with his thin, cool face and sharp, hard eyes! He would

have liked to tell him and his paper to go to the devil. He went

away, hoping that he could influence the Inquirer in some other

way upon the old General's return.

As he was sitting next morning in his office in North Clark Street

he was aroused by the still novel-sounding bell of the telephone

--one of the earliest in use--on the wall back of him. After a

parley with his secretary, he was informed that a gentleman connected

with the Inquirer wished to speak with him.

" This is the Inquirer, " said a voice which Cowperwood, his ear to

the receiver, thought he recognized as that of young Truman

MacDonald, the General's son. " You wanted to know, " continued the

voice, " what would be considered adequate compensation so far as

that tunnel matter is concerned. Can you hear me? "

" Yes, " replied Cowperwood.

" Well, I should not care to influence your judgment one way or the

other; but if my opinion were asked I should say about fifty

thousand dollars' worth of North Chicago Street Railway stock

would be satisfactory. "

The voice was young, clear, steely.

" To whom would you suggest that it might be paid? " Cowperwood

asked, softly, quite genially.

" That, also, I would suggest, might be left to your very sound

judgment. "

The voice ceased. The receiver was hung up.

" Well, I'll be damned! " Cowperwood said, looking at the floor

reflectively. A smile spread over his face. " I'm not going to

be held up like that. I don't need to be. It isn't worth it.

Not at present, anyhow. " His teeth set.

He was underestimating Mr. Truman Leslie MacDonald, principally

because he did not like him. He thought his father might return

and oust him. It was one of the most vital mistakes he ever made

in his life.

Chapter XXIV

The Coming of Stephanie Platow

During this period of what might have been called financial and

commercial progress, the affairs of Aileen and Cowperwood had been

to a certain extent smoothed over. Each summer now, partly to

take Aileen's mind off herself and partly to satisfy his own desire

to see the world and collect objects of art, in which he was

becoming more and more interested, it was Cowperwood's custom to

make with his wife a short trip abroad or to foreign American

lands, visiting in these two years Russia, Scandinavia, Argentine,

Chili, and Mexico. Their plan was to leave in May or June with

the outward rush of traffic, and return in September or early

October. His idea was to soothe Aileen as much as possible, to

fill her mind with pleasing anticipations as to her eventual social

triumph somewhere--in New York or London, if not Chicago--to make

her feel that in spite of his physical desertion he was still

spiritually loyal.

By now also Cowperwood was so shrewd that he had the ability to

simulate an affection and practise a gallantry which he did not

feel, or, rather, that was not backed by real passion. He was the

soul of attention; he would buy her flowers, jewels, knickknacks,

and ornaments; he would see that her comfort was looked after to

the last detail; and yet, at the very same moment, perhaps, he

would be looking cautiously about to see what life might offer in

the way of illicit entertainment. Aileen knew this, although she

could not prove it to be true. At the same time she had an affection

and an admiration for the man which gripped her in spite of

herself.

You have, perhaps, pictured to yourself the mood of some general

who has perhaps suffered a great defeat; the employee who after

years of faithful service finds himself discharged. What shall

life say to the loving when their love is no longer of any value,

when all that has been placed upon the altar of affection has been

found to be a vain sacrifice? Philosophy? Give that to dolls to

play with. Religion? Seek first the metaphysical-minded. Aileen

was no longer the lithe, forceful, dynamic girl of 1865, when

Cowperwood first met her. She was still beautiful, itis true, a

fair, full-blown, matronly creature not more than thirty-five,

looking perhaps thirty, feeling, alas, that she was a girl and

still as attractive as ever. It is a grim thing to a woman, however

fortunately placed, to realize that age is creeping on, and that

love, that singing will-o'-the-wisp, is fading into the ultimate

dark. Aileen, within the hour of her greatest triumph, had seen

love die. It was useless to tell herself, as she did sometimes,

that it might come back, revive. Her ultimately realistic temperament

told her this could never be. Though she had routed Rita Sohlberg,

she was fully aware that Cowperwood's original constancy was gone.

She was no longer happy. Love was dead. That sweet illusion,

with its pearly pink for heart and borders, that laughing cherub

that lures with Cupid's mouth and misty eye, that young tendril

of the vine of life that whispers of eternal spring-time, that

calls and calls where aching, wearied feet by legion follow, was

no longer in existence.

In vain the tears, the storms, the self-tortures; in vain the looks

in the mirror, the studied examination of plump, sweet features

still fresh and inviting. One day, at the sight of tired circles

under her eyes, she ripped from her neck a lovely ruche that she

was adjusting and, throwing herself on her bed, cried as though

her heart would break. Why primp? Why ornament? Her Frank did not

love her. What to her now was a handsome residence in Michigan

Avenue, the refinements of a French boudoir, or clothing that ran

the gamut of the dressmaker's art, hats that were like orchids

blooming in serried rows? In vain, in vain! Like the raven that

perched above the lintel of the door, sad memory was here, grave

in her widow weeds, crying " never more. " Aileen knew that the sweet

illusion which had bound Cowperwood to her for a time had gone

and would never come again. He was here. His step was in the

room mornings and evenings; at night for long prosaic, uninterrupted

periods she could hear him breathing by her side, his hand on her

body. There were other nights when he was not there--when he was

" out of the city" --and she resigned herself to accept his excuses

at their face value. Why quarrel? she asked herself. What could

she do? She was waiting, waiting, but for what?

And Cowperwood, noting the strange, unalterable changes which time

works in us all, the inward lap of the marks of age, the fluted

recession of that splendor and radiance which is youth, sighed at

times perhaps, but turned his face to that dawn which is forever

breaking where youth is. Not for him that poetic loyalty which

substitutes for the perfection of young love its memories, or takes

for the glitter of passion and desire that once was the happy

thoughts of companionship--the crystal memories that like early

dews congealed remain beaded recollections to comfort or torture

for the end of former joys. On the contrary, after the vanishing

of Rita Sohlberg, with all that she meant in the way of a delicate

⇐ Предыдущая 27 28 29 30 313233 34 35 36 Следующая ⇒