The upshot of Eugene's final speculation was that he accepted the offer
of the United Magazines Corporation and left Mr. Kalvin. Colfax had
written one day to his house asking him what he thought he would do
about it. The more he had turned it over in his mind, the more it had
grown in attraction. The Colfax company was erecting a tremendous
building, eighteen stories high, in the heart of the middle business
district in New York near Union Square, to house all their departments.
Colfax had said at the time Eugene took dinner with him that the
sixteenth, seventeenth and eighteenth floors would be devoted to the
editorial, publication, circulation, art, and advertising departments.
He had asked Eugene what he had thought would be a good floor
arrangement, and the latter, with his usual facility for scheming such
things, had scratched on a piece of paper a tentative layout for the
various departments. He had put the editorial and art departments on the
topmost floor, giving the publisher, whoever he might eventually prove
to be, a commanding position in a central room on the western side of
the building which overlooked all the city between the Square and Hudson
River, and showed that magnificent body of water as a panorama for the
eye to feast upon. He had put the advertising and some overflow
editorial rooms on the seventeenth floor, and the circulation with its
attendant mailing and cabinet record rooms on the sixteenth. The
publisher's and editor's rooms he laid out after an old Flemish scheme
he had long had in mind, in which green, dark blue, blood-red and black
walnut shades contrasted richly with the flood of light which would be
available.
"You might as well do this thing right if you do it at all," he had said
to Colfax. "Nearly all the editorial offices I have ever seen have been
the flimsiest makeshifts. A rich-looking editorial, art and advertising
department would help your company a great deal. It has advertising
value."
He recalled as he spoke Summerfield's theory that a look of prosperity
was about the most valuable asset a house could have.
Colfax agreed with him, and said when the time came that he wished
Eugene would do him the favor to come and look the thing over. "I have
two good architects on the job," he explained, "but I would rather trust
your ideas as to how those rooms should be laid out."
When he was considering this final call for a decision he was thinking
how this floor would look--how rich it would be. Eventually, if he
succeeded, his office would be the most sumptuous thing in it. He would
be the most conspicuous figure in the great, new building, apart from
Colfax himself.
Thoughts of this kind, which ought to have had but very little share in
any commercial speculation, were nevertheless uppermost in Eugene's
mind; for he was not a business man--he was primarily an artist, and for
all his floundering round in the commercial world he remained an artist
still. His sense of his coming dignity and standing before the world was
almost greater than his sense of the terrifying responsibility which it
involved. Colfax was a hard man, he knew, harder even than Summerfield,
for he talked less and acted more; but this did not sink into Eugene's
consciousness sufficiently to worry him. He fancied he was a strong man,
able to hold his own anywhere.
Angela was really not very much opposed to the change, though her
natural conservatism made her worry and hesitate to approve. It was a
great step forward if Eugene succeeded, but if he failed it would be
such a loss.
"Colfax has so much faith in me," he told her. "He's convinced that I
can do it, and faith like that is a great help. I'd like to try it,
anyhow. It can't do me any harm. If I think I can't handle the
publishing proposition I'll stick to the advertising end."
"All right," said Angela, "but I scarcely know what to advise. They've
been so nice to you over here."
"I'll try it," said Eugene determinedly. "Nothing venture, nothing
have," and he informed Kalvin the same day.
The latter looked at him solemnly, his keen gray eyes contemplating the
situation from all points of view. "Well, Eugene," he said, "you're
shouldering a great responsibility. It's difficult. Think carefully of
everything that you do. I'm sorry to see you go. Good-bye."
He had the feeling that Eugene was making a mistake--that he would do
better to rest a while where he was; but persuasion was useless. It
would only give Eugene the notion that he was more important than he
was--make matters more difficult in the future.
Kalvin had heard a number of things concerning Colfax recently, and he
fancied that Eugene might find it hard to deal with him later. The
general impression was that he was subject to sudden likes and dislikes
which did not bear the test of time. He was said to be scarcely human
enough to be the effective head of a great working corporation.
The truth was that this general opinion was quite correct. Colfax was as
hard as steel but of a smiling and delightful presence to those he
fancied. Vanity was really his other name, and ambition with him knew no
bounds. He hoped to make a tremendous success of his life, to be looked
up to as an imposing financier, and he wanted _men_--only strong men
about him. Eugene seemed to Colfax to be a strong man, and the day he
finally communicated with him saying that he thought that he would
accept his offer but that he wished to talk to him further, Colfax threw
his hat up in the air, slapped his side partner White on the back, and
exclaimed: "Whee! Florrie! There's a trick I've scored for this
corporation. There's a man, unless I am greatly mistaken, will do
something here. He's young but he's all right. He's got the looks on you
and me, Florrie, but we can stand that, can't we?"
White eyed him, with a show of joy and satisfaction which was purely
simulated. He had seen many editors and many advertising men in his
time. To his judgment they were nearly all lightweights, men who were
easily satisfied with the little toy wherewith he or anyone might decide
to gratify their vanity. This was probably another case in point, but if
a real publisher were coming in here it would not be so well with him.
He might attempt to crowd in on his authority or at least divide it with
him. That did not appeal to his personal vanity. It really put a
stumbling block in his path, for he hoped to rule here some day alone.
Why was it that Colfax was so eager to have the authority in this house
divided? Was it because he was somewhat afraid of him? He thought so,
and he was exceedingly close to the truth when he thought so.
"Florrie's a good lieutenant," Colfax said to himself, "but he needs to
be counterbalanced here by someone who will represent the refinements
and that intellectual superiority which the world respects."
He wanted this refinement and intellectual superiority to be popular
with the public, and to produce results in the shape of increased
circulation for his magazines and books. These two would then act as
checks each to the other, thus preventing the house from becoming
overweighted in either direction. Then he could drive this team as a
grand master--the man who had selected both, whose ideas they
represented, and whose judgment they respected. The world of finance and
trade would know they were nothing without him.
What Eugene thought and what White thought of this prospective situation
was that the other would naturally be the minor figure, and that he
under Colfax would be the shining light. Eugene was convinced that the
house without proper artistic and intellectual dominance was nothing.
White was convinced that without sane commercial management it was a
failure and that this was the thing to look to. Money could buy brains.
Colfax introduced Eugene to White on the morning he arrived to take
charge, for on the previous occasions when he had been there White was
absent. The two looked at each other and immediately suspended judgment,
for both were able men. Eugene saw White as an interesting type--tall,
leathery, swaggering, a back-street bully evolved into the semblance of
a gentleman. White saw in Eugene a nervous, refined, semi-emotional
literary and artistic type who had, however, a curious versatility and
virility not common among those whom he had previously encountered. He
was exceedingly forceful but not poised. That he could eventually
undermine him if he could not dominate him he did not doubt. Still he
was coming in with the backing of Colfax and a great reputation, and it
might not be easy. Eugene made him feel nervous. He wondered as he
looked at him whether Colfax would really make him general literary,
artistic and advertising administrator, or whether he would remain
simply advertising manager as he now entered. Colfax had not accepted
Eugene for more than that.
"Here he is, Florrie," Colfax had said of Eugene, in introducing him to
White. "This is the man I've been talking about. Witla--Mr. White.
White--Mr. Witla. You two want to get together for the good of this
house in the future. What do you think of each other?"
Eugene had previously noted the peculiarity of this rowdy, rah! rah!
attitude on the part of Colfax. He seemed to have no sense of the
conventions of social address and conference at any time.
"Now, by God," Colfax exclaimed, striking his right fist against his
left palm, "unless I am greatly mistaken, this house is going to begin
to move! I'm not positive that I have the man I want, but I think I
have. White, let's stroll around and introduce him."
White swaggered to the office door.
"Sure," he said quietly. "An exceptional man," he said to himself.
Colfax was almost beside himself with satisfaction, for he was subject
to emotional flushes which, however, related to self-aggrandizement
only. He walked with a great stride (little as he was), which was his
wont when he was feeling particularly satisfied. He talked in a loud
voice, for he wanted everyone to know that he, Hiram Colfax, was about
and as forceful as the lord of so great an institution should be. He
could yell and scream something like a woman in a paroxysm of rage when
he was thwarted or irritated. Eugene did not know that as yet.
"Here's one of the printing floors," he said to Eugene, throwing open a
door which revealed a room full of thundering presses of giant size.
"Where's Dodson, boy? Where's Dodson? Tell him to come here. He's
foreman of our printing department," he added, turning to Eugene, as the
printer's devil, who had been working at a press, scurried away to find
his master. "I told you, I guess, that we have thirty of these presses.
There are four more floors just like this."
"So you did," replied Eugene. "It certainly is a great concern. I can
see that the possibilities of a thing like this are almost limitless."
"Limitless--I should say! It depends on what you can do with this," and
he tapped Eugene's forehead. "If you do your part right, and he does
his"--turning to White--"there won't be any limit to what this house can
do. That remains to be seen."
Just then Dodson came bustling up, a shrewd, keen henchman of White's,
and looked at Eugene curiously.
"Dodson, Mr. Witla, the new advertising manager. He's going to try to
help pay for all this wasteful presswork you're doing. Witla,
Mr. Dodson, manager of the printing department."
The two men shook hands. Eugene felt in a way as though he were talking
to an underling, and did not pay very definite attention to him. Dodson
resented his attitude somewhat, but gave no sign. His loyalty was to
White, and he felt himself perfectly safe under that man's supervision.
The next visit was to the composing room where a vast army of men were
working away at type racks and linotype machines. A short, fat,
ink-streaked foreman in a green striped apron that looked as though it
might have been made of bed ticking came forward to greet them
ingratiatingly. He was plainly nervous at their presence, and withdrew
his hand when Eugene offered to take it.
"It's too dirty," he said. "I'll take the will for the deed, Mr. Witla."
More explanations and laudations of the extent of the business followed.
Then came the circulation department with its head, a tall dark man who
looked solemnly at Eugene, uncertain as to what place he was to have in
the organization and uncertain as to what attitude he should ultimately
have to take. White was "butting into his affairs," as he told his wife,
and he did not know where it would end. He had heard rumors to the
effect that there was to be a new man soon who was to have great
authority over various departments. Was this he?
There came next the editors of the various magazines, who viewed this
triumphal procession with more or less contempt, for to them both Colfax
and White were raw, uncouth upstarts blazoning their material
superiority in loud-mouthed phrases. Colfax talked too loud and was too
vainglorious. White was too hard, bitter and unreasoning. They hated
them both with a secret hate but there was no escaping their domination.
The need of living salaries held all in obsequious subjection.
"Here's Mr. Marchwood," Colfax said inconsiderately of the editor of the
_International Review_. "He thinks he's making a wonderful publication
of that, but we don't know whether he is yet or not."
Eugene winced for Marchwood. He was so calm, so refined, so
professional.
"I suppose we can only go by the circulation department," he replied
simply, attracted by Eugene's sympathetic smile.
"That's all! That's all!" exclaimed Colfax.
"That is probably true," said Eugene, "but a good thing ought to be as
easily circulated as a poor one. At least it's worth trying."
Mr. Marchwood smiled. It was a bit of intellectual kindness in a world
of cruel comment.
"It's a great institution," said Eugene finally, on reaching the
president's office again. "I'll begin now and see what I can do."
"Good luck, my boy. Good luck!" said Colfax loudly. "I'm laying great
stress on what you're going to do, you know."
"Don't lean too hard," returned Eugene. "Remember, I'm just one in a
great organization."
"I know, I know, but _the one_ is all I need up there--_the one_, see?"
"Yes, yes," laughed Eugene, "cheer up. We'll be able to do a little
something, I'm sure."
"A great man, that," Colfax declared to White as he went away. "The real
stuff in that fellow, no flinching there you notice. He knows how to
think. Now, Florrie, unless I miss my guess you and I are going to get
somewhere with this thing."
White smiled gloomily, almost cynically. He was not so sure. Eugene was
pretty good, but he was obviously too independent, too artistic, to be
really stable and dependable. He would never run to him for advice, but
he would probably make mistakes. He might lose his head. What must he do
to offset this new invasion of authority? Discredit him? Certainly. But
he needn't worry about that. Eugene would do something. He would make
mistakes of some kind. He felt sure of it. He was almost positive of it.