The words of the Colossus, spoken delicately though they were, came to
Helen like a blow over the heart. But she had the dour courage of the
born fighter.
“Surely that remains to be seen.” For the first time in the course of
a two years’ friendship with Saul Hartz, a chord of antagonism rang in
Helen’s voice.
The Colossus paused a moment to look at her. “True, my dear.” Of a
sudden the tone had grown almost deprecatory. “But I do want you to
look before and after. You contemplate a very serious step.”
Helen agreed that for herself such a step must prove serious indeed.
“For both of us, my dear. You will be very much missed here.”
She was touched by this magnanimity and also flattered by it, for she
knew it to be the frank expression of his mind. The Chief did not want
to part with her, that was clear. She had reason to think she had been
of use to him and that he had always liked her personally. Certainly
from the day of their first meeting in New York she had received
exceptional kindness and consideration at his hands.
As far as Saul Hartz himself was concerned, he had known from the
outset that she had first-rate abilities. None understood better than
he the value of the feminine mind with its faculty of taking short cuts
to deep conclusions. By its intuitive “scrapping” of a thousand-and-one
considerations that are apt to fetter the slow-moving male it was able
to save time and expenditure of spirit and yet “to get there” just the
same.
Helen Sholto, over and beyond an exceptionally quick perception, had
now become a highly trained woman of the modern world, a brilliant
writer and speaker who understood her own sex. Already she counted
with that important but elusive entity, the woman voter. She had, too,
powers of organization, a real capacity for handling large affairs.
Saul Hartz with his flair in such matters saw that her combination of
rare qualities was likely to carry her far.
To the Colossus no one was indispensable, but in certain ways he had
come to lean rather heavily on Helen Sholto; and he had made up his
mind that she must not be allowed to serve in the enemy’s camp.
“I’ve been making plans for you.” Those strange eyes measured hers.
“Let me tell you what they are.” The husky whisper was now a caress.
“Stay with us here and you shall have something big--a plum worth
having. As you know, we are planning a new paper for women that we hope
to make the finest property of its kind in existence. Now suppose you
take control at double your present salary and with a share in the
profits?”
Helen was thrilled. Only a woman of ambition could have gone so far
already upon the road. This was an opportunity she had foreseen and had
been steadily working for. To be in charge of such an undertaking would
not only gratify a keen desire; it would be fulfillment almost beyond
what she had dared to hope.
She knew that the eyes of Saul Hartz were reading her soul. As far as
he was concerned there was hardly such a thing as a secret. And with
what uncanny skill he could use his knowledge! The bribe was great.
For one of her mental outlook, the refusal of such a bait would be a
going-back upon her whole philosophy of life.
“Don’t decide at once.” The whisper, faint though it was, had a curious
power. “But keep the door open ... keep the door open, that’s all we
ask.”
Helen remained silent. In the presence of this man, immediately under
his gaze, within sound of his compelling speech, she was always less
than herself. Everybody in the Office felt like that. The most potent
members of the staff, and they included heads as hard and brains as
“picked” as the world could produce, were seldom able to put up a fight
against him. The Colossus dominated all alike.
“You see,” Saul Hartz went on, “it was due to me that you came over to
us here. I’ve always felt a personal responsibility in regard to you.
From the first I believed in you--we believed in each other. You have
not disappointed me; I hope I have not disappointed you. But it will
hurt me more than I can say, if for a whim, a mere whim, a day-dream,
you throw away a really fine career.”
To doubt his sincerity was impossible. Every word rang true. And Helen
Sholto with his spell upon her was bound to react to the emotion this
man had the power to excite. At once her mind went back to the many
benefits at his hands, the many delicate kindnesses. She could not
forget his faith in her; she could not forget how much she owed him.
While he looked at her all that was clear. He wove a very close web.
But he was too adroit to draw the mesh too tight. He was careful not to
embarrass her by an appeal to her sense of gratitude.
“Of course, this is just a business proposition--a business
arrangement.” The sudden release of tension was most welcome to Helen.
“A quid pro quo, one might even say. We have been mutually useful to
each other.”
“You have been very good to me.” A sense of justice forced her to that
simple admission.
“If you really think so,”--he had a wonderful gift for taking instant
advantage of every opportunity--“you’ll be in no hurry to turn us down.”
Her distrust of this man had now grown profound, but with that
implacable will enfolding her she began to seem a helpless fly in the
toils of an enormous spider.
“Take time for thought.” He recurred yet again to his theme with the
zest of one who knows his own skill and loves its exercise. “The
strongest and the wisest of us are liable to moments of weakness in
which we may easily come to grief. I’m twice your age and that’s my
excuse for prosing. But don’t throw away the substance for the shadow;
don’t go back on your whole life for the sake of a heroic gesture. The
control of the _Woman’s News_, with a combined minimum sale here and
in the United States of five million copies a week, is going to be
the prize of your profession. Try to realize what such a chance means
before you sacrifice it to a chimera.”
“John Endor is no chimera,” Helen mustered the wit to reply. “He is a
great man. You know that as well as I do.”
Again he looked at her in the way that had the power of disconcerting
everybody.
“A great man _ab ovo_ shall we say? But I’m going to be brutally
frank.” A brief pause was well timed. “He can’t stay the course; he’s
geared too high.”
“How is it possible to know that?” said Helen valiantly.
The Colossus laughed. Slowly his eyes unhooded themselves. She felt
them strike like the fangs of a cobra. “Dear fellow!” A curious lisp
entered that remote voice. “Dear fellow, he’s down and out already.”
For one vital instant Helen’s heart seemed to miss its beat. The will
must not accept this ukase, but an all-powerful instinct might dethrone
it. Not for nothing had this man earned his name. Caught and pinned by
his eyes she read what was behind them. Even to the acute, balanced
brain of Helen at this moment he began to seem one with destiny itself.
Shivering with an emotion very close to terror she was unable to move
until his eyes let her go. Then she got up from her chair.
“Take a few days before you really decide.” Quite suddenly his voice
changed altogether. “If you are writing, give my love to the old people
in the old home.”
No other man would have dared that touch of audacity, of jejune
cynicism. Helen knew that well enough, yet it didn’t make her fear of
him less.
Returning no answer for there was none she could give, she asked a
question of routine and then, feeling like one over whom a whirlwind
had swept, she went to the door.
“Do you mind asking Mr. Gage to come?”
The Chief’s reassumption of a formal tone helped her to a becoming
exit.