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rights of the Chaldees. He realized that the business itself was

a splendid thing. He liked on occasion to think of it with all

its extent of ground-space, plain red-brick buildings, tall stacks

and yelling whistles; but he liked in no way to have anything to

do with the rather commonplace routine of its manipulation.

The principal difficulty with Aileen under these circumstances,

of course, was her intense vanity and self-consciousness. Never

was there a vainer or more sex-troubled woman. Why, she asked

herself, should she sit here in loneliness day after day, brooding

about Cowperwood, eating her heart out, while he was flitting about

gathering the sweets of life elsewhere? Why should she not offer

her continued charms as a solace and a delight to other men who

would appreciate them? Would not such a policy have all the

essentials of justice in it? Yet even now, so precious had Cowperwood

been to her hitherto, and so wonderful, that she was scarcely able

to think of senous disloyalty. He was so charming when he was

nice--so splendid. When Lynde sought to hold her to the proposed

luncheon engagement she at first declined. And there, under

slightly differing conditions, the matter might easily have stood.

But it so happened that just at this time Aileen was being almost

daily harassed by additional evidence and reminders of Cowperwood's

infidelity.

For instance, going one day to call on the Haguenins--for she was

perfectly willing to keep up the pretense of amity in so long as

they had not found out the truth--she was informed that Mrs.

Haguenin was " not at home. " Shortly thereafter the Press, which

had always been favorable to Cowperwood, and which Aileen regularly

read because of its friendly comment, suddenly veered and began

to attack him. There were solemn suggestions at first that his

policy and intentions might not be in accord with the best interests

of the city. A little later Haguenin printed editorials which

referred to Cowperwood as " the wrecker, " " the Philadelphia

adventurer, " " a conscienceless promoter, " and the like. Aileen

guessed instantly what the trouble was, but she was too disturbed

as to her own position to make any comment. She could not resolve

the threats and menaces of Cowperwood's envious world any more

than she could see her way through her own grim difficulties.

One day, in scanning the columns of that faithful chronicle of

Chicago social doings, the Chicago Saturday Review, she came across

an item which served as a final blow. " For some time in high

social circles, " the paragraph ran, " speculation has been rife as

to the amours and liaisons of a certain individual of great wealth

and pseudo social prominence, who once made a serious attempt to

enter Chicago society. It is not necessary to name the man, for

all who are acquainted with recent events in Chicago will know who

is meant. The latest rumor to affect his already nefarious reputation

relates to two women--one the daughter, and the other the wife,

of men of repute and standing in the community. In these latest

instances it is more than likely that he has arrayed influences

of the greatest importance socially and financially against himself,

for the husband in the one case and the father in the other are

men of weight and authority. The suggestion has more than once

been made that Chicago should and eventually would not tolerate

his bucaneering methods in finance and social matters; but thus

far no definite action has been taken to cast him out. The crowning

wonder of all is that the wife, who was brought here from the East,

and who--so rumor has it--made a rather scandalous sacrifice of

her own reputation and another woman's heart and home in order to

obtain the privilege of living with him, should continue so to do. "

Aileen understood perfectly what was meant. " The father" of the

so-called " one" was probably Haguenin or Cochrane, more than likely

Haguenin. " The husband of the other" --but who was the husband of

the other? She had not heard of any scandal with the wife of

anybody. It could not be the case of Rita Sohlberg and her

husband--that was too far back. It must be some new affair of

which she had not the least inkling, and so she sat and reflected.

Now, she told herself, if she received another invitation from

Lynde she would accept it.

It was only a few days later that Aileen and Lynde met in the

gold-room of the Richelieu. Strange to relate, for one determined

to be indifferent she had spent much time in making a fetching

toilet. It being February and chill with glittering snow on the

ground, she had chosen a dark-green broadcloth gown, quite new,

with lapis-lazuli buttons that worked a " Y" pattern across her

bosom, a seal turban with an emerald plume which complemented

a sealskin jacket with immense wrought silver buttons, and bronze

shoes. To perfect it all, Aileen had fastened lapis-lazuli ear-rings

of a small flower-form in her ears, and wore a plain, heavy gold

bracelet. Lynde came up with a look of keen approval written on

his handsome brown face. " Will you let me tell you how nice you

look? " he said, sinking into the chair opposite. " You show beautiful

taste in choosing the right colors. Your ear-rings go so well

with your hair. "

Although Aileen feared because of his desperateness, she was caught

by his sleek force--that air of iron strength under a parlor mask.

His long, brown, artistic hands, hard and muscular, indicated an

idle force that might be used in many ways. They harmonized with

his teeth and chin.

" So you came, didn't you? " he went on, looking at her steadily,

while she fronted his gaze boldly for a moment, only to look

evasively down.

He still studied her carefully, looking at her chin and mouth and

piquant nose. In her colorful cheeks and strong arms and shoulders,

indicated by her well-tailored suit, he recognized the human vigor

he most craved in a woman. By way of diversion he ordered an

old-fashioned whisky cocktail, urging her to join him. Finding

her obdurate, he drew from his pocket a little box.

We agreed when we played the other night on a memento, didn't we? "

he said. " A sort of souvenir? Guess? "

Aileen looked at it a little nonplussed, recognizing the contents

of the box to be jewelry. " Oh, you shouldn't have done that, " she

protested. " The understanding was that we were to win. You lost,

and that ended the bargain. I should have shared the losses. I

haven't forgiven you for that yet, you know. "

" How ungallant that would make me! " he said, smilingly, as he

trifled with the long, thin, lacquered case. " You wouldn't want

to make me ungallant, would you? Be a good fellow--a good sport,

as they say. Guess, and it's yours. "

Aileen pursed her lips at this ardent entreaty.

" Oh, I don't mind guessing, " she commented, superiorly, " though I

sha'n't take it. It might be a pin, it might be a set of ear-rings,

it might be a bracelet--"

He made no comment, but opened it, revealing a necklace of gold

wrought into the form of a grape-vine of the most curious workmanship,

with a cluster of leaves artistically carved and arranged as a

breastpiece, the center of them formed by a black opal, which shone

with an enticing luster. Lynde knew well enough that Aileen was

familiar with many jewels, and that only one of ornate construction

and value would appeal to her sense of what was becoming to her.

He watched her face closely while she studied the details of the

necklace.

" Isn't it exquisite! " she commented. " What a lovely opal--what

an odd design. " She went over the separate leaves. " You shouldn't

be so foolish. I couldn't take it. I have too many things as it

is, and besides--" She was thinking of what she would say if

Cowperwood chanced to ask her where she got it. He was so intuitive.

" And besides? " he queried.

" Nothing, " she replied, " except that I mustn't take it, really. "

" Won't you take it as a souvenir even if--our agreement, you know. "

" Even if what? " she queried.

" Even if nothing else comes of it. A memento, then--truly--you

know. "

He laid hold of her fingers with his cool, vigorous ones. A year

before, even six months, Aileen would have released her hand

smilingly. Now she hesitated. Why should she be so squeamish

with other men when Cowperwood was so unkind to her?

" Tell me something, " Lynde asked, noting the doubt and holding her

fingers gently but firmly, " do you care for me at all? "

" I like you, yes. I can't say that it is anything more than that. "

She flushed, though, in spite of herself.

He merely gazed at her with his hard, burning eyes. The materiality

that accompanies romance in so many temperaments awakened in her,

and quite put Cowperwood out of her mind for the moment. It was

an astonishing and revolutionary experience for her. She quite

burned in reply, and Lynde smiled sweetly, encouragingly.

" Why won't you be friends with me, my sweetheart? I know you're

not happy--I can see that. Neither am I. I have a wreckless,

wretched disposition that gets me into all sorts of hell. I need

some one to care for me. Why won't you? You're just my sort. I

feel it. Do you love him so much" --he was referring to Cowperwood

--" that you can't love any one else? "

" Oh, him! " retorted Aileen, irritably, almost disloyally. " He

doesn't care for me any more. He wouldn't mind. It isn't him. "

" Well, then, what is it? Why won't you? Am I not interesting enough?

Don't you like me? Don't you feel that I'm really suited to you? "

His hand sought hers softly.

Aileen accepted the caress.

" Oh, it isn't that, " she replied, feelingly, running back in her

mind over her long career with Cowperwood, his former love, his

keen protestations. She had expected to make so much out of her

life with him, and here she was sitting in a public restaurant

flirting with and extracting sympathy from a comparative stranger.

It cut her to the quick for the moment and sealed her lips. Hot,

unbidden tears welled to her eyes.

Lynde saw them. He was really very sorry for her, though her

beauty made him wish to take advantage of her distress. " Why

should you cry, dearest? " he asked, softly, looking at her flushed

cheeks and colorful eyes. " You have beauty; you are young; you're

lovely. He's not the only man in the world. Why should you be

faithful when he isn't faithful to you? This Hand affair is all

over town. When you meet some one that really would care for you,

why shouldn't you? If he doesn't want you, there are others. "

At the mention of the Hand affair Aileen straightened up. " The

Hand affair? " she asked, curiously. " What is that? "

" Don't you know? " he replied, a little surprised. " I thought you

did, or I certainly wouldn't have mentioned it. "

" Oh, I know about what it is, " replied Aileen, wisely, and with a

touch of sardonic humor. " There have been so many or the same

kind. I suppose it must be the case the Chicago Review was

referring to--the wife of the prominent financier. Has he been

trifling with Mrs. Hand? "

" Something like that, " replied Lynde. " I'm sorry that I spoke,

though? really I am. I didn't mean to be carrying tales. "

" Soldiers in a common fight, eh? " taunted Aileen, gaily.

" Oh, not that, exactly. Please don't be mean. I'm not so bad.

It's just a principle with me. We all have our little foibles. "

" Yes, I know, " replied Aileen; but her mind was running on Mrs.

Hand. So she was the latest. " Well, I admire his taste, anyway,

in this case, " she said, archly. " There have been so many, though.

She is just one more.

Lynde smiled. He himself admired Cowperwood's taste. Then he

dropped the subject.

" But let's forget that, " he said. " Please don't worry about him

any more. You can't change that. Pull yourself together. " He

squeezed her fingers. " Will you? " he asked, lifting his eyebrows

in inquiry.

" Will I what? " replied Aileen, meditatively.

" Oh, you know. The necklace for one thing. Me, too. " His eyes

coaxed and laughed and pleaded.

Aileen smiled. " You're a bad boy, " she said, evasively. This

revelation in regard to Mrs. Hand had made her singularly retaliatory

in spirit. " Let me think. Don't ask me to take the necklace

to-day. I couldn't. I couldn't wear it, anyhow. Let me see you

another time. " She moved her plump hand in an uncertain way, and

he smoothed her wrist.

" I wonder if you wouldn't like to go around to the studio of a

friend of mine here in the tower? " he asked, quite nonchalantly.

" He has such a charming collection of landscapes. You're interested

in pictures, I know. Your husband has some of the finest. "

Instantly Aileen understood what was meant--quite by instinct.

The alleged studio must be private bachelor quarters.

" Not this afternoon, " she replied, quite wrought up and disturbed.

" Not to-day. Another time. And I must be going now. But I will

see you. "

" And this? " he asked, picking up the necklace.

" You keep it until I do come, " she replied. " I may take it then. "

She relaxed a little, pleased that she was getting safely away;

but her mood was anything but antagonistic, and her spirits were

as shredded as wind-whipped clouds. It was time she wanted--a

little time--that was all.

Chapter XXXIV

Enter Hosmer Hand

It is needless to say that the solemn rage of Hand, to say nothing

of the pathetic anger of Haguenin, coupled with the wrath of Redmond

Purdy, who related to all his sad story, and of young MacDonald

and his associates of the Chicago General Company, constituted an

atmosphere highly charged with possibilities and potent for dramatic

results. The most serious element in this at present was Hosmer

Hand, who, being exceedingly wealthy and a director in a number

of the principal mercantile and financial institutions of the city,

was in a position to do Cowperwood some real financial harm. Hand

had been extremely fond of his young wife. Being a man of but few

experiences with women, it astonished and enraged him that a man

like Cowperwood should dare to venture on his preserves in this

reckless way, should take his dignity so lightly. He burned now

with a hot, slow fire of revenge.

Those who know anything concerning the financial world and its

great adventures know how precious is that reputation for probity,

solidarity, and conservatism on which so many of the successful

enterprises of the world are based. If men are not absolutely

honest themselves they at least wish for and have faith in the

honesty of others. No set of men know more about each other,

garner more carefully all the straws of rumor which may affect the

financial and social well being of an individual one way or another,

keep a tighter mouth concerning their own affairs and a sharper

eye on that of their neighbors. Cowperwood's credit had hitherto

been good because it was known that he had a " soft thing" in the

Chicago street-railway field, that he paid his interest charges

promptly, that he had organized the group of men who now, under

him, controlled the Chicago Trust Company and the North and West

Chicago Street Railways, and that the Lake City Bank, of which

Addison was still president, considered his collateral sound.

Nevertheless, even previous to this time there had been a protesting

element in the shape of Schryhart, Simms, and others of considerable

import in the Douglas Trust, who had lost no chance to say to one

and all that Cowperwood was an interloper, and that his course was

marked by political and social trickery and chicanery, if not by

financial dishonesty. As a matter of fact, Schryhart, who had

once been a director of the Lake City National along with Hand,

Arneel, and others, had resigned and withdrawn all his deposits

sometime before because he found, as he declared, that Addison was

favoring Cowperwood and the Chicago Trust Company with loans, when

there was no need of so doing--when it was not essentially

advantageous for the bank so to do. Both Arneel and Hand, having

at this time no personal quarrel with Cowperwood on any score, had

considered this protest as biased. Addison had maintained that

the loans were neither unduly large nor out of proportion to the

general loans of the bank. The collateral offered was excellent.

" I don't want to quarrel with Schryhart, " Addison had protested

at the time; " but I am afraid his charge is unfair. He is trying

to vent a private grudge through the Lake National. That is not

the way nor this the place to do it. "

Both Hand and Arneel, sober men both, agreed with this--admiring

Addison--and so the case stood. Schryhart, however, frequently

intimated to them both that Cowperwood was merely building up the

Chicago Trust Company at the expense of the Lake City National,

in order to make the former strong enough to do without any aid,

at which time Addison would resign and the Lake City would be

allowed to shift for itself. Hand had never acted on this suggestion

but he had thought.

It was not until the incidents relating to Cowperwood and Mrs.

Hand had come to light that things financial and otherwise began

to darken up. Hand, being greatly hurt in his pride, contemplated

only severe reprisal. Meeting Schryhart at a directors' meeting

one day not long after his difficulty had come upon him, he remarked:

" I thought a few years ago, Norman, when you talked to me about

this man Cowperwood that you were merely jealous--a dissatisfied

business rival. Recently a few things have come to my notice which

cause me to think differently. It is very plain to me now that

the man is thoroughly bad--from the crown of his head to the soles

of his feet. It's a pity the city has to endure him. "

" So you're just beginning to find that out, are you, Hosmer? "

answered Schryhart. " Well, I'll not say I told you so. Perhaps

you'll agree with me now that the responsible people of Chicago

ought to do something about it. "

Hand, a very heavy, taciturn man, merely looked at him. " I'll be

ready enough to do, " he said, " when I see how and what's to be

done. "

A little later Schryhart, meeting Duane Kingsland, learned the

true source of Hand's feeling against Cowperwood, and was not slow

in transferring this titbit to Merrill, Simms, and others. Merrill,

who, though Cowperwood had refused to extend his La Salle Street

tunnel loop about State Street and his store, had hitherto always

liked him after a fashion--remotely admired his courage and

daring--was now appropriately shocked.

" Why, Anson, " observed Schryhart, " the man is no good. He has the

heart of a hyena and the friendliness of a scorpion. You heard

how he treated Hand, didn't you? "

" No, " replied Merrill, " I didn't. "

" Well, it's this way, so I hear. " And Schryhart leaned over and

confidentially communicated considerable information into Mr.

Merrill's left ear.

The latter raised his eyebrows. " Indeed! " he said.

" And the way he came to meet her, " added Schryhart, contemptuously,

" was this. He went to Hand originally to borrow two hundred and

fifty thousand dollars on West Chicago Street Railway. Angry? The

word is no name for it. "

" You don't say so, " commented Merrill, dryly, though privately

interested and fascinated, for Mrs. Hand had always seemed very

attractive to him. " I don't wonder. "

He recalled that his own wife had recently insisted on inviting

Cowperwood once.

Similarly Hand, meeting Arneel not so long afterward, confided to

him that Cowperwood was trying to repudiate a sacred agreement.

Arneel was grieved and surprised. It was enough for him to know

that Hand had been seriously injured. Between the two of them

they now decided to indicate to Addison, as president of the Lake

City Bank, that all relations with Cowperwood and the Chicago Trust

Company must cease. The result of this was, not long after, that

Addison, very suave and gracious, agreed to give Cowperwood due

warning that all his loans would have to be taken care of and then

resigned--to become, seven months later, president of the Chicago

Trust Company. This desertion created a great stir at the time,

astonishing the very men who had suspected that it might come to

pass. The papers were full of it.

" Well, let him go, " observed Arneel to Hand, sourly, on the day

that Addison notified the board of directors of the Lake City of

his contemplated resignation. " If he wants to sever his connection

with a bank like this to go with a man like that, it's his own

lookout. He may live to regret it. "

It so happened that by now another election was pending Chicago,

and Hand, along with Schryhart and Arneel--who joined their forces

because of his friendship for Hand--decided to try to fight

Cowperwood through this means.

Hosmer Hand, feeling that he had the burden of a great duty upon

him, was not slow in acting. He was always, when aroused, a

determined and able fighter. Needing an able lieutenant in the

impending political conflict, he finally bethought himself of a

man who had recently come to figure somewhat conspicuously in

Chicago politics--one Patrick Gilgan, the same Patrick Gilgan of

Cowperwood's old Hyde Park gas-war days. Mr. Gilgan was now a

comparatively well-to-do man. Owing to a genial capacity for

mixing with people, a close mouth, and absolutely no understanding

of, and consequently no conscience in matters of large public

import (in so far as they related to the so-called rights of the

mass), he was a fit individual to succeed politically. His saloon

was the finest in all Wentworth Avenue. It fairly glittered with

the newly introduced incandescent lamp reflected in a perfect world

of beveled and faceted mirrors. His ward, or district, was full

of low, rain-beaten cottages crowded together along half-made

streets; but Patrick Gilgan was now a state senator, slated for

Congress at the next Congressional election, and a possible successor

of the Hon. John J. McKenty as dictator of the city, if only the

Republican party should come into power. (Hyde Park, before it

had been annexed to the city, had always been Republican, and since

then, although the larger city was normally Democratic, Gilgan

could not conveniently change. ) Hearing from the political discussion

which preceded the election that Gilgan was by far the most powerful

politician on the South Side, Hand sent for him. Personally, Hand

had far less sympathy with the polite moralistic efforts of men

like Haguenin, Hyssop, and others, who were content to preach

morality and strive to win by the efforts of the unco good, than

he had with the cold political logic of a man like Cowperwood

himself. If Cowperwood could work through McKenty to such a

powerful end, he, Hand, could find some one else who could be made

as powerful as McKenty.

" Mr. Gilgan, " said Hand, when the Irishman came in, medium tall,

beefy, with shrewd, twinkling gray eyes and hairy hands, " you don't

know me--"

" I know of you well enough, " smiled the Irishman, with a soft

brogue. " You don't need an introduction to talk to me. "

" Very good, " replied Hand, extending his hand. " I know of you,

too. Then we can talk. It's the political situation here in

Chicago I'd like to discuss with you. I'm not a politician myself,

but I take some interest in what's going on. I want to know what

you think will be the probable outcome of the present situation

here in the city. "

Gilgan, having no reason for laying his private political convictions

bare to any one whose motive he did not know, merely replied: " Oh,

I think the Republicans may have a pretty good show. They have

all but one or two of the papers with them, I see. I don't know

much outside of what I read and hear people talk. "

Mr. Hand knew that Gilgan was sparring, and was glad to find his

man canny and calculating.

" I haven't asked you to come here just to be talking over politics

in general, as you may imagine, Mr. Gilgan. I want to put a

particular problem before you. Do you happen to know either Mr.

McKenty or Mr. Cowperwood? "

" I never met either of them to talk to, " replied Gilgan. " I know

Mr. McKenty by sight, and I've seen Mr. Cowperwood once. " He said

no more.

" Well, " said Mr. Hand, " suppose a group of influential men here

in Chicago were to get together and guarantee sufficient funds for

a city-wide campaign; now, if you had the complete support of the

newspapers and the Republican organization in the bargain, could

you organize the opposition here so that the Democratic party could

be beaten this fall? I'm not talking about the mayor merely and

the principal city officers, but the council, too--the aldermen.

I want to fix things so that the McKenty-Cowperwood crowd couldn't

get an alderman or a city official to sell out, once they are

elected. I want the Democratic party beaten so thoroughly that

there won't be any question in anybody's mind as to the fact that

it has been done. There will be plenty of money forthcoming if

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