TO borrow money at any time is difficult; to borrow during a panic is
impossible. John Steele spent the first half of the second day of the
crisis in attempting the impossible. Every man to whom he applied seemed
to be in the same position as himself. All stocks had come down in
sympathy with the Rockervelt slump, and it seemed as if every person
supposed to be rich was then engaged in a frantic endeavour to prevent
ruin by putting up all the ready money in hand, or else trying, like
John himself, to borrow.
About half past twelve he gave up the quest, and made a second call on
his brokers. It was the junior partner again who received him.
“Ah, Mr. Steele,” cried the broker, “here you are, eh? They say all
things come to him who waits.”
“That isn’t true in my case,” replied John. “I’ve been waiting all day
for money and couldn’t get it. It didn’t come.”
“Well, I’ve been waiting for you,” rejoined the broker. “I have had
messengers after you all over town. Called at your rooms, at your
office, at your club; found any number of people who had just seen you,
but not one of the searchers caught sight of _you_.”
“What’s the news?” asked John, without much hope.
“We hung on to your stock till ten minutes to twelve, and then we had to
let it go. We were lucky enough to get a purchaser for the whole block
at a price that just cleared us, but I can tell you I spent a bad
quarter of an hour before I got into touch with him.”
“When you say cleared, I suppose you mean that I’m entirely wiped out,
but you got from under without loss.”
“I don’t know a better way of putting it than that,” replied the broker.
“I didn’t think there was a man in town with ready money enough to make
such a purchase to-day. I wish I had managed to encounter him. Perhaps I
might have detached twenty-one thousand dollars from him.”
“It is very likely, for he is a friend of yours, and from your own
office. He said there was no secret about it; so I may as well tell you
the purchaser is Mr. Blair, general manager of the Midland.”
“Oh, he’s back from New York, is he?”
“Yes, he returned this morning; haven’t you seen him? Haven’t you been
at your office at all today?”
“No, I’ve been calling on friends and acquaintances. I suppose the stock
is going up now?”
“Well, such a large purchase had first the effect of putting the brakes
on its downhill course, and now it has recovered two points. Then the
news from New York is encouraging. It seems that the Rockervelt forces,
both in New York and Chicago, are buying all that is offered. You see,
Mr. Rockervelt himself left for the West just before the scare, and I
imagine he didn’t realise how serious it was.”
“Quite so. I heard he had gone West. Pity there are no telegraph wires
to the West, isn’t it?”
The broker laughed.
“Oh, I guess Mr. Rockervelt is as foxy as they make ’em. I don’t
suppose he’s lost anything over this shake-up, and perhaps he thought it
was a good time to squeeze a little of the dampness out of the stock.
I expect a very rapid recovery. The country is prosperous, and from the
way things look this last hour or two we’ve been going through a little
squall, but not entering upon a financial crisis.”
“That’s a blessing,” said John with a sigh; “still, the squall has upset
my canoe, even if the big liners ride through it. Good-bye.”
Once outside, instead of feeling depressed, as he had expected, John
experienced an unaccountable thrill of elation. The disaster was
complete; complete beyond recall; complete in spite of anything he did
or did not do. The very finality of the catastrophe seemed to lift a
weight that had been oppressing him for a night and a day. He remembered
that he had had practically no dinner the evening before, and no
breakfast that morning, and now a fierce and healthy hunger which seemed
to have been biding its time sprang upon him. A glance at his watch
showed that it was nearly two o’clock. He walked rapidly to the
University Club, noted for its excellent cuisine, and wrote on an order
card the menu of a sumptuous meal. A deferential servitor approached
silently to his elbow.
“Mr. Steele, No. 1623 wants you on the telephone.”
“All right, ring him up, and tell him I’ll be there in a moment, and
if he is impatient, inform him I am at present engaged on the important
choice between camembert and brie.”
Sending his order upstairs, he went into the little telephone cabin. He
knew the number meant the general manager’s office.
“Hello, is that you, Blair?--Yes, this is Steele.--What’s that?--Oh,
no, now that you mention it, I haven’t been there last night or this
morning. How’s the old road running?--What? It isn’t doing so well
outside.--Oh, if it comes to that, I’ve been general manager and
division superintendent for the past week, so surely you can act Pooh
Bah for a day. To tell the truth, it seemed to me that a road whose
stock was falling so rapidly wasn’t worth general managering or division
superintending.--Levity? Bless you, no! I’m the most serious man in
town.--Oh, I’m sorry you think my remarks flippant. Have you had lunch?
I’ve just ordered a meal for a millionaire; come down and have a bite
with me.--Oh, had it, eh? You’re an early bird. I’ve ordered a late bird
grilled upstairs. Sure you won’t drop round, and have a cup of coffee
and a liqueur?--Yes, I see, you’re quite right. Somebody must attend to
business.--Well, I’ll drop round on you at four o’clock. Good-bye.”
John Steele allowed himself a good hour and three-quarters for his
luncheon, then he strolled down to the Grand Union Station, and, exactly
as the big bell in the tower tolled four he walked into the general
manager’s room.
Mr. Blair was seated at his broad table, and as he looked up his
chubby face was a study in various emotions. Superficially it wore the
conventional, official frown which a great man may call to his aid
when a subordinate’s conduct has been such as to merit disapproval. The
severity of the frown, however, was chastened by the expression of the
just man, who, although righteously offended, is nevertheless prepared
to listen to an explanation, and perhaps accept an apology. The lips
were prepared to censure, or even, in a last resort, to condemn,
although, if the case merited leniency, one would not be surprised to
hear them admonish and advise. It was the face of a simple and honest
man, willing to forgive, yet not afraid to punish.
The eyes, however, rather gave the situation away. In them twinkled
triumph and glee, and lurking in their depths was a background of malice
and hatred.
“Mr. Steele, I was amazed to find on my return from New York that you
had absented yourself without permission from your duties,” began Mr.
Blair, in a sincere more-in-sorrow-than-in-anger tone.
“Oh, that’s all right,” said John airily. “I was general manager _pro
tem_., you see, and a general manager may do what he pleases. But I was
division superintendent also, so I asked the general manager for an hour
or two off, and permission was granted me.”
“As you know, Mr. Steele, I am the most forbearing of men, but such a
tone as you have adopted will not do. As I told you over the telephone
I was surprised at the flippant manner you thought fit to adopt, but I
expected a satisfactory explanation when we met face to face.”
“If that is the case, sir, I shall be so sorry to disappoint you. The
satisfactory explanation I beg to offer for my absence is that I was
busily engaged in gambling.”
“Gambling!” cried Mr. Blair in astonishment; “this is shocking. It is my
opinion that a man cannot be an efficient servant of a great railway and
a speculator at the same time.”
“I quite agree with you, Mr. Blair, and we are two shining examples of
the truth of your aphorism. You are the most inefficient railway servant
I ever met, and at the same time the most successful gambler. I am an
excellent railway man and the most idiotic speculator there is in
the country at the present moment. What’s the use of wasting that
sanctimonious ‘holier-than-thou’ look of yours? You know, and I know,
that you don’t care a hang about my being away a day. What you want
me here for is to gloat over me. You’ve got my three hundred thousand
dollars as slick as any bunco man ever achieved a much smaller sum over
a green farm hand from the country. I’m here, not to receive any censure
or to make any apology, but so that you may enjoy the effects of my
humiliation and defeat. I am the last person in the world to deprive
another of innocent amusement. Here I am, therefore. I have just come
out of the tail end of the threshing machine, and have brought the
remnants for your inspection. What do you think of them?”
“I am exceedingly sorry to hear that you have been unfortunate in your
financial transactions.”
“Of course you are. Thanks ever so much.”
“Did you succeed in raising twenty-one thousand on your Northern Pacific
stock?”
“No, I have it with me yet. That N. P. stock sticks to me closer than
any friend I have in town. You don’t want to buy it by any chance?”
“No,” said Blair smoothly. “I have quite recently made a very large
investment in Midland shares, re-buying a block that I was fortunate
enough to sell at its highest point, and have therefore no desire to
acquire further securities at the present moment.”
“You’re just in the same fix as all the rest of my acquaintances, Mr.
Blair, so your refusal does not disappoint me.”
“You lost also the thirty thousand you had in the Bank at Detroit?”
This was said very quietly, and for a moment amazed the listener by
the accurate knowledge the elder man possessed of his affairs. The next
instant John Steele gave utterance to a shriek of laughter, smiting his
thigh with his open palm as if he had just heard the best joke in the
world. The young man strode up and down the room giving way to shout
after shout of hilarity, while the elder, all trace of humbug vanishing
from his face, rose to his feet in alarm, believing that misfortune had
turned the other’s brain, and fearing a transformation into a sudden
savagery that might make his isolated position one of danger. His
eyes rested longingly on the door, while his hand nervously sought
the electric button. John, seeing these premonitions of interruption,
controlled himself with an effort, and stammered: “Sit down, Blair; it’s
all right. Don’t get frightened. I’ll explain in a minute. You see, it
was this way,” said John, coming up in front of the table again, and
resolutely crushing down his bubbling tendency to merriment; “that
thirty thousand was deposited in the Detroit bank by my late uncle. I
possess my own little bank account here, which I have been adding to
week by week. Consequently, I never needed to draw a check upon Detroit.
Now, the funny thing is that I have been searching this town from cellar
to garret that I might borrow twenty-one thousand dollars, and all
the while I could have drawn my own check for the amount, and had nine
thousand odd left over.”
“Do you mean to say, then,” said Blair, visibly disappointed, “that you
didn’t put in the thirty thousand as margin?”
“I did not. Do you feel you ought to have a check for that thirty
thousand? You remind me of the hotel keeper at a summer resort down
East, whose customer said: ‘You have made a mistake in my bill,’ and
when the proprietor denied that there could be any error, the guest
explained: ‘Oh, there must be, for I have still ten dollars left.’
The beautiful part of it is, Blair, that if I had thought of my thirty
thousand I would have put it in; so I am mighty glad I didn’t think of
it, for it would not have saved me. I was looking over the figures of
the decline on the tape at the club, and found that the stuff reached
its lowest point at about half-past eleven, and that point would have
not only wiped out my thirty thousand, but another thirty thousand as
well. The brokers told me they had hung on till ten minutes to twelve,
but they evidently knew their customer, and got out on the rise. I am
afraid, Blair, that even brokers are not truthful men. It’s a wonder
that staunch, true hearts like you and me can make a living in this
deceitful world. Well, Mr. Blair, I have come to bid you good-bye, and
I venture to predict that I’ll have more fun out of that thirty thousand
dollars than I had out of the three hundred thousand. Wealth isn’t
everything here below. Meanwhile keep on living a virtuous life, and you
will reap your reward by and by. Never become discouraged in well-doing.
Ta-ta.”
With that John Steele took his departure from the Grand Union Station,
packed up his traps, and took train for Detroit, where he lifted his
money from the bank, and left on the night express for New York.
Here he rented Drawer 907 in the Broadway Safe Deposit Vaults, and in
this drawer he placed his Northern Pacific stock and locked it up. He
next turned his money, all but a thousand dollars, into a letter of
credit on Europe; then bought a first-class ticket to France on the
biggest boat sailing that week. He determined to burn his bridges
behind him before he called on his old friend Philip Manson, for he knew
instinctively that Manson would strongly disapprove of the course he had
laid out for himself, and, remembering his great esteem and affection
for Manson, he was not sure enough of himself to venture within the
circle of his influence without some extraneous aid to hold him to his
purpose.
It was nearing twelve o’clock when he went up in one of the half-dozen
elevators of the huge Rockervelt building, and was ushered into Philip
Manson’s room.
“Hello, Mr. Manson, how are you?” he cried cheerily, as his former chief
rose to greet him. Although he called the much more important general
manager plain “Blair,” he never was able to drop the prefix “Mr.” from
Man-son’s name. His respect for his solemn friend was as deep as his
affection, and the strong regard manifested itself unconsciously in
this manner. Manson’s appearance gave no indication that he had passed
through a crisis which had ruined him. He was the same quiet, reserved
man he had always been, and a touch of grey at the temples was all the
change John noticed as having taken place since he saw him last. The
stern face relaxed into a bright expression of welcome as he shook hands
with the young man from the West.
“I am very glad to see you,” said Manson. “Did you get my letter?”
“No, I left Warmington the day I telegraphed you.”
“Ah, well, it doesn’t matter. It was merely about your telegram I wrote.
I am very sorry indeed that it proved impossible for me to send you
the money, and I merely wrote a fuller explanation than my telegram
contained.”
“You got caught in the crash, then?” said Steele.
“Yes, everything I possessed was swept away. It serves me right for
doing what I never did in my life before, which is to dabble in stocks.
Was I right in supposing from your telegram that you also had become
involved?”
“Yes, and if you had sent me the money it would have been lost; so you
see, you don’t need to regret that you didn’t have it. The funny thing
is that I had myself thirty thousand dollars in the Detroit Bank, which,
in the excitement of the day, slipped my memory as effectually as if it
had been only thirty cents.”
“And did you save it?” asked Manson, with as near an approach to
eagerness as he could show.
“Oh, yes, but the saving was an act of Providence, as we always try to
make out our accidents are, and not through any sanity on my part. How
did you come to put everything in stocks? I thought you never gambled?”
“I didn’t, up till about a week ago. Colonel Beck gave me the straight
tip, which I understood came direct from Mr. Rockervelt, and I was
foolish enough to act upon it.”
“He did the same kind office for me, but he’s merely a stool-pigeon for
old Blair. Blair was the man behind the gun.”
“We have no proof of that,” said Manson, judicially.
“_I_ have proof. Blair didn’t hesitate to confess as much after he had
raked in my money. Blair’s one of those oily hypocrites who smile and
smile, and remain the villain. He never forgives, though he may appear
to do so.”
“You were always inclined to be prejudiced against Mr. Blair, John,”
said Manson meditatively. “Still, there’s little use in talking of what
is past. I suppose you read Mr. Rockervelt’s statement in the papers?”
“Admirable piece of virtuous indignation, isn’t it? What a beautiful
sermon against all speculation! And yet it is stated very freely that
those on the inside have made millions by selling the road and buying it
back again. I wonder what fool it was that said you couldn’t have your
cake and eat it too.”
“Well, let’s think no more about it. When are you going back West,
John?”
“I leave to-morrow, at noon, but I don’t go West; I go East.”
“East?”
“Yes, I sail on the first out-going liner to-morrow, and hope to drop
off in France.”
“Why, you’ve never given up your situation, have you?”
“Oh, yes, it was impossible for me to remain. I’m done with
railroading.”
“Nonsense. What’s your purpose?”
“Mr. Manson, I don’t exactly know. Reason tells me that I’m no worse off
than I was the day my uncle died, when I had little thought of coming
into any money I didn’t earn. Indeed, I am very much better off. My
salary has been doubled. I have thirty thousand dollars in cash, and a
bundle of Northern Pacific securities which has just been placed in the
Broadway Safe Deposit. I don’t understand myself in the least. Reason
tells me that I ought to get angry and slaughter somebody, yet I feel no
resentment. I am hurt, rather, that I was sand-bagged in the house of
my friends. Still, even that fact doesn’t appear to affect me much.
Nevertheless, there’s a change. I suspect it’s the beginning of dry-rot.
I fear that from being a useful man I have become a useless one. The
utter folly of hard work, faithful service, reasonable honesty, and all
that, has been brought home to me.”
“Nonsense, nonsense, John,” expostulated Manson.
“I am not theorising, Mr. Manson, but am merely trying to explain
something to you which I do not myself understand. My uncle managed to
get together a certain amount of money during thirty-five years. I lost
that money in as many hours. If I worked honestly like a beaver for
the next ten, fifteen or twenty years, it is unlikely I could save
that much; yet my dear friend Blair, during, say, half an hour’s silent
meditation, evolves a plan, perfectly legal, by which the money is
transferred from my bank account to his--transferred beyond possibility
of recall. You will say perhaps, as my broker said, that I am just
as bad as he is. I expected to place some one else’s money in my bank
account, beyond recall, and didn’t succeed. Therefore I make a row. But
the truth is, I am not making a row. I admit all any critic may say of
my folly, but I realise that being an honest, hard-working efficient man
doesn’t pay in this country. At least, it pays only in allowing you to
scrape together a modest competency, which may be quite lawfully filched
from you in ten minutes. You will add I am a fool to throw over my
shoulder a situation worth five thousand a year. You may even mention
the hundred thousand young fellows of my age who would jump at my
chance. I admit all that; I admit I’m a fool; I admit anything. I am the
most open-minded person on earth at the present moment, and the least
argumentative. I am like a boat that has been tied to a pier until
somebody has cut the rope, sending it adrift. If you ask the boat where
it’s going, it doesn’t know. I don’t know what I’m going to do. I am
only aware that I’ve got close on thirty thousand dollars in a letter of
credit. I can have a high old time on that money for a year in Paris.
I can have an hilarious time on it for two years in various capitals. I
can study in Germany with the greatest luxury for five or ten years
on that amount, or I can live thirty years in Europe in some quiet
out-of-the-way place and be sure I shan’t die of starvation. I’m all
at sea, like the boat I was speaking of. I thought I knew John Steele
pretty well, but I find I don’t know him at all. All his ideas of
morality, energy, industry, have turned somersaults. I am going over to
Europe, where it’s quiet, to get acquainted with the new John Steele.”
Philip Manson had been regarding him with almost painful concentration
while he spoke, and when the harangue was finished he said, soothingly,
persuasively, looking at John: “Come with me up to the Adirondacks and
enjoy a week’s fishing, or to Maine, and put in two weeks, or to Canada,
and stay three weeks.”
Steele laughed heartily.
“Oh, yes, I know. Why don’t you advise me to go to some sanitarium and
consult a physician on mental aberration? I want to fish, but it is to
fish out the secrets of John Steele. By this time to-morrow I shall be
kissing the tips of my fingers to the statue of Liberty.”
“John,” said Manson, solemnly, “you are taking a false step. If you go
to Europe in this frame of mind you are making a grave mistake which may
not be easily remedied. Opportunities come once, twice, thrice, but they
don’t come always, and if they find a man persistently not at home, they
pass on. In a year or two this little set-back you have experienced will
have almost completely passed away from your mind. Look at me. I am
a much older man than you. I have lost everything I succeeded in
accumulating, yet I set my face toward re-earning it. You are on
the threshold of a great success; you have in you the making of a
first-class general manager. Now, I can well understand that you don’t
care to be in an office that contains Mr. Blair. I cannot say I blame
you for that, but Mr. Rockervelt will be back here the day after
to-morrow. You wait till he comes; I’ll go in and see him, and I am sure
you will be offered a position that will give you ample scope for the
powers we both know you to possess.”
Steele shook his head slowly.
“I have told you, and evidently you don’t believe it, that I have no
desire to develop any powers of usefulness I may possess. I suppose I am
in the state of mind that makes a labouring man become a tramp. You are
a stalwart oak of the forest, Mr. Manson, and the gale that has merely
ruffled your branches has uprooted the sapling.”
“Nonsense, John; it has simply given the sapling a bit of a twist.”
“That may be so. It is quite possible that by the time I touch at
Southampton or Cherbourg I may be yearning for that stolid old statue of
Liberty again, and perhaps I shall take the next steamer back. In that
case Mr. Rockervelt will have had the disadvantage of endeavouring to
run his system without me for three weeks or thereabouts, and so we will
deal with him more effectually than we would the day after to-morrow,
when he doesn’t know what a vacuum my absence has caused.”
“Don’t try to be cynical, John. It doesn’t sound convincing from the
lips of so sensible and capable a young fellow as you are.”
“On the other hand,” John went on unheeding, “it may be that I have
taken to the road; that I am in reality the tramp I feel myself to be.
Perhaps there has been a mistake in the outset, and Europe is really my
country, not America. My father was born over there, and who knows
but that thousands of years of ancestry are calling to me. That is a
question Europe will settle. I half suspect that I shall feel so out
of it after a month over there that you’ll find me again coming up this
express elevator before you realise I’ve been away. Any how, my steamer
ticket is in my pocket, and I am off to Cherbourg or wherever they like
to land me, in the morning. And now, Mr. Manson, you know this wicked
city better than I do. Let’s get out to some good eating house and enjoy
a substantial meal. What’s the best restaurant in town? It isn’t every
day a capitalist asks you to lunch with him. I’m the prodigal son, so
we’ll reverse the ancient parable and kill the fatted calf before I
start on my travels.”