IV

It was necessary for me to find, calculating liberally, about

eight million dollars--the four millions definitely promised to my

university, a quarter of a million to redeem my promise to Natalie,

a million properly to set Walter and her going in an independent

establishment, two millions to provide them with the income to

maintain it, and about half a million for my own and my family’s

regular annual expenses. Further, an investment of twelve millions

that had been sending its seven per cent. securely and regularly for

the past nine years was about to fall in through the payment of the

debt it represented--I could write a volume on the harassments and

exasperations of hunting investments. Finally, I was hoping that Aurora

would marry Horton Kirkby, which might mean a million, perhaps several

millions, more, if he should demand a dowry.

The situation commanded me to plan and carry through some new

enterprise which would afford me a safe investment for my released

twelve millions and in addition would net me enough to cover well the

other demands upon me. Years ago--as soon as I had my first million put

by--I resolved that I would never for any purpose whatsoever subtract

a penny either from the principal or from the income of my fortune.

Gifts of all kinds, expenses of all kinds, outgo of every description,

must come from new sources of revenue; my fortune and its income and

the surplus over the previous year’s outgo must be treated as a sacred

fund of which I was merely the trustee. That rule has put me often

in straits, has forced me to many money-making measures that in the

narrow view would be called relentless. But to it the world owes my

highest achievements, as a financier and industrial leader, and to it I

owe the bulk of my fortune.

The brain earns in vain, however hugely, if the hands do not hoard;

and, thanks to my rule, my hands have been like those valves which open

only to pressure from without and seal the more tightly the greater the

pressure from within.

I could not break my rule. Yet I must properly marry my children

and must keep my promise to my university; and to have left twelve

millions of capital idle would have been to show myself unworthy of the

responsibilities of great wealth. I was thus literally driven to one

of those large public services which are so venomously criticised by

the small and the envious. Every action of no matter what kind produces

both good and bad consequences. To wait until one could act without

any unfortunate results to anybody would be to sit motionless, even to

refrain from eating. The most that conscience demands is that one shall

do only those things which in his best judgment will show a balance on

the side of good.

I had long had my eye on certain mines and appendant manufactories

situated at several points on two of my three lines of railway. They

were doing well enough in a small way; but I knew that, combined under

the direction of such a brain as mine, they would become immensely

more profitable. I now saw no alternative to taking them and making

them as valuable and as useful as they were clearly intended to be.

In preparation for the _coup_ I withdrew from the directory of my

third railway, substituting one of my unrecognised agents, himself a

millionaire in a small way; and I put my stock in the names of others

of my agents and did not deny the report that I had ceased to have any

financial interest in the road. Thus I was in a position to alter its

freight rates without the change being traced to me by those prying

meddlers who are so active in their interference in other people’s

business nowadays. When it was universally believed that I no longer

had any connection with my third road, and that it had passed to a

control hostile to me, I ordered it to give large secret rebates upon

all freight of the kind I wished to affect.

The result was that the owners of those mines and factories, being

compelled to ship by my two other railways, which stiffly maintained

rates, were no longer able to compete. Their competitors, shipping by

my third line, easily undersold them with the assistance of the secret

rebate. They came in a stew and sweat to my two presidents and said

that secret rebates by the third line were the cause of their impending

ruin. My two presidents agreed with them and opened a fierce war of

words upon my third president--him whom they and every one else thought

hostile to me. He retorted with a sweeping denial of their charges. “It

is nothing new in a world of self-excuse,” said he, “for incompetent

business men to attribute their misfortunes to the wickedness of others

instead of to the real source--their own incapacity and incompetence.”

And so the sham battle raged by mail and newspaper interview. But--the

mine and factory owners I was gunning for got nothing tangible out

of it. Their competitors continued to undersell them; their business

rapidly languished.

When I saw that they were in a sufficiently humble frame of mind I came

to their relief. I sent word to them that, as I had a warm personal

feeling for the towns dependent upon the prosperity of their works, I

would take a hand in their languishing businesses if they wished and

would do my utmost to maintain the apparently hopeless battle.

My offer was received with enthusiastic gratitude--as it should have

been; for, while it is true that I had precipitated the crisis which

their antiquated methods of doing business would have inevitably

brought sooner or later, is it not also true that I have the right

to do what I wish with my own? And are not those two railways, and

the third, as well, my own? But for the present rampant spirit of

contemptuous disregard for the rights of private property and the

impudent intrusions into private business it would not have been

necessary for me to disguise myself and act like a housebreaker in

order to exercise my plain rights--yes, and do my plain duty; for can

there be any question in any judicial mind that it is the duty of men

of the commercial and financial genius which I possess to use it to

bring the resources of the country to their highest efficiency?

After some negotiations I got control of the properties that I needed

and that needed me. I agreed to pay altogether fifteen millions for

a controlling share in them--about half what it would have cost me

before I brought my rebate artillery to bear, but about twice what

control would have cost had I battered away for six months longer. I

might have accomplished my purpose much more cheaply; but I am not

a hard man, and I do not flatter myself when I say that conscience

is the dominant factor in all my operations. I felt that in the

circumstances the owners were entitled to consideration and that to

make my victory complete would be an abuse of power. It is hardly

necessary to add that my generosity had its prudent side, as has all

rational generosity. To have assailed the properties too long in order

to get them cheap would have permanently impaired their value; to have

wiped out the owners utterly would have caused a profound, possibly

dangerous, public resentment against my class, too many members of

which had been guilty of the grave blunder of using their power without

regard to public opinion. But while prudence was a factor in my general

settlement, the main factor was, as I have said, conscience. Not

the narrow conscientiousness of ordinary men, which is three parts

ignorance, two parts cowardice, and five parts envy--for is it not

usually roused only when the acts of others are to be judged?

When my offer was accepted I organised a combination to take over

the properties, and I paid for them with its guaranteed bonds and

preferred stock. Then I countermanded the order for a heavy secret

rebate against their products and, instead, issued an order for a

small secret rebate in their favour--letting the public think I had by

some secret audacious move regained control of my third railroad. The

combination’s business boomed, its stock went up, and all that it was

necessary for me to sell was eagerly bought. What with the bonds and

the stocks I sold, I had gained control without its having cost me a

penny. It is not vanity, is it, when I call that genius?

But control is not possession, and these properties are worth

possessing. I must possess them. It is not just that so large a part of

the profits of my labour--of my act of creation--should go to others.

I have anticipated somewhat. The operation took a considerable time,

but not long in view of the great results. When one has my vast

resources and my peculiar talents, men and events _move_, obstacles

are blown up, roads are thrust swift and straight through the thickest

tangles, and the objective is reached before feeble folk have got

beyond the stage of debate and diplomacy. Still, nearly a year elapsed

between the start and the finish, and many things happened which were

the reverse of satisfactory--most of them, as usual, in my domestic

affairs.

I had got the enterprise only fairly under way when the invitations

for Walter’s wedding were issued. Natalie’s father had seen me several

times and had shown his determination to intervene in the matter of

her dowry by bringing up the subject at our business conferences

whenever he could force the smallest opening. Like all my associates,

from capitalist to clerk, he is in awe of me. I see to it that in

the velvet glove there shall always be holes through which the iron

hand can be plainly seen. That often saves me the exertion of using

it. An iron hand, once it has an established reputation, is mightier

when merely seen than when felt. He would always begin by some vague,

halting reference to my promised generosity.

“A royal gift, Galloway!” he would say, enthusiastically. “You

certainly are a king, much more powerful than those European

figureheads.”

But he never had the courage to speak the exact sum, the “quarter of a

million dollars a year,” that I saw in his hungry, glistening, hopeful,

yet doubtful eyes. And I would not take the hint to discuss the gift

further, but would put him off by showing how completely I was absorbed

in the forming combination. Probably at the time he was letting his

greed blind him into believing I would make as big a fool of myself as

I had rashly promised and so was fearful of irritating me in any way.

Two days before the wedding invitations went out he forced himself on

me for lunch. I saw determination written in his face--determination

to compel me to something definite about that “quarter of a million a

year” for his daughter. So, at the first pause in the conversation, I

played my card.

“Matt,” said I, “I really must arrange the formalities for that

settlement on _our_ daughter. I’ll have my lawyer--will the latter part

of the week do? He’s up to his eyes in the combination just now.”

Bradish looked enormously relieved. He could hardly keep from laughing

outright with delight--the miserable old seller of his own children.

“Oh, I wasn’t disturbing myself,” he replied; “your word’s good

enough, though, of course, you’d--we’d--want the thing in legal

shape--before the marriage.”

“Of course,” said I, waving the matter aside as settled, and beginning

again on the affairs of the combination. I had let him into it on

attractive terms and had put him on my board of directors. He revelled

in these favours as the mere foretaste of his gains from the powerful

commercial alliance he was making through his daughter.

Out went the invitations--and the first danger point was rounded.

On the following Sunday night I left suddenly in my private car for an

inspection of the new properties. Every day of nearly two weeks was

full to its last minute. When I returned to New York five days before

the wedding, I was utterly worn out. I went to bed and sent for my

doctor--Hanbury.

He is one of those highly successful New York physicians who are famed

among the laity for their skill in medicine, and in the profession

for their skill at hocus-pocus. He is a specialist in what I may call

the diseases of the idle rich--boredom, exaggeration of a slight

discomfort into a frightful torture, craving for fussy personal

attentions, abnormal fear of death, etc. He is a professional “funny

man,” a discreet but depraved gossip, and a tireless listener--and is

handsome and well-mannered. He has a soft, firm touch--on pulse and on

purse. The women adore him--when they want to rest, they complain of

nervousness and send for him to prescribe for them. One of his most

successful and lucrative lines of treatment is helping wives to loosen

the purse-strings of husbands by agitating their sympathies and fears.

He never irritates or frightens his clients with unpleasant truths. He

doesn’t tell the men to stop eating and drinking and the women to stop

gadding. He gives them digestion-tablets and nerve-tonics and sends

them on agreeable excursions to Europe. Of all the swarm of parasites

that live upon rich New Yorkers none keeps up a more dignified front

than does Hanbury. I’ve found him useful in social matters, and, as

I’ve paid him liberally, he is greatly in my debt.

“Hanbury,” I said, from my bed, “I’m a very sick man.”

“Nonsense--only tired,” replied he. “A good sleep, a few days’ rest----”

I looked at him steadily. “I tell you I’m desperately ill, and here’s

my son’s wedding only five days away!”

“You’ll be all right by that time. I’ll guarantee to fix you up, good

as new.”

I continued to look at him steadily. “No, I sha’n’t--it’s impossible.

And I sha’n’t be able to transact any business whatever. I mustn’t be

allowed to see even the members of my own family. Do you understand?”

He glanced curiously at me, then reflected, twisting the end of his

Van Dyck beard. He looked at my tongue, listened to my heart, felt my

pulse, and took my temperature. “I’m afraid you’re right,” he said,

gravely; “I see you’re worse off than I thought. We must have a trained

nurse.”

“But I must have you, too,” said I. “You must move into the house, and

I don’t want anybody but you to attend me.”

“Very well. You know I’m at your service. I’ll--_superintend_ the

nurse.”

“Thank you, Hanbury,” said I. “You understand me perfectly. I can trust

you. And--something might happen to me--I’ll write you a check for ten

thousand at once--a little personal matter quite apart from your bill.”

Hanbury reddened. I think he thought he was hesitating. But when he

spoke it was to say: “Thank you--if you wish--but I’m sure I’ll pull

you through.”

“I shall be able to see _no one_,” I went on. “But I’ve set my heart on

my son’s marrying--the wedding _must not be put off_. I’m sure it would

kill me if there were to be a delay.”

“I understand.” His eyes were smiling; the rest of his face was grave.

“And not a word of the serious nature of my illness must get into

the papers. You will deny any rumour of that kind, should there be

occasion. My stocks must not be affected--and they would be, and the

whole list----”

“And the prosperity of the country,” said Hanbury.

This illness of mine, while primarily for smoothly carrying through

Walter’s marriage, was really inspired by an actual physical need. I

had long felt that the machine needed rest. The necessity of preventing

Natalie from making a fool of herself gave me the opportunity to

combine rest with accomplishment. Before shutting myself in I had put

my affairs into such shape that my lieutenants and secretaries could

look after them. I dozed and slept and listened to the nurse or Hanbury

reading, or talked with Hanbury. The nurse had little to do--and I

suspect could do little. What Hanbury did not do was done by my stupid

old Pigott, half crazed with fear lest I should die and he should find

that he was right in suspecting he had not been handsomely remembered

in my will. Hanbury’s manner was so perfect that, had I not felt

robustly well on long sleep, short diet, and no annoyances, I might

have been convinced and badly frightened. My family--Hanbury managed to

keep them from thinking it necessary to try to impress me with their

affection for me by pretending wild alarm. He had most difficulty with

poor little Helen--not so very little any more, though I think of her

as a baby still. It’s astonishing how unspoiled she is--another proof

of her unusuality.

On the third day Hanbury said: “Your wife tells me she must see you,

and that, if she doesn’t, the wedding will surely be postponed.”

“It’s impossible to admit her--when I’m just entering the crisis,”

replied I. “Tell her--you know how to do it--that, if Bradish acts up,

she shall as a last resort go to Burridge, who will let him see my

will. And can’t you call--don’t you think you had better call--some

one--say Doctor Lowndes--in consultation?”

He reflected for several minutes. “I’ll call Lowndes,” he said. “You

couldn’t possibly have picked out a better man.” And he looked at me

with the admiration I deserved.

“Let Bradish know you’ve done it,” I added.

“Certainly,” he replied, in a tone which assured me he knew what to do

at the right time.

Lowndes came--and went. A quarter of an hour before he came Hanbury

gave me a dose of some strong-smelling, yellow-black medicine. The

blood bounded through my arteries and throbbed with fierce violence in

my veins; I sank into a sort of stupor. I dimly realised that another

man was in the room with Hanbury and was making a hasty examination

of me. It must have been an amusing farce. Lowndes indorsed Hanbury,

and--yesterday I paid Lowndes’s bill for twelve hundred dollars.

I fell asleep while he was still solemnly studying Hanbury’s

temperature chart. When I awoke the latter was reading by the shaded

electric light on the night-stand. I felt somewhat dazed and tired, but

otherwise extremely comfortable.

“What news?” I asked.

“Your wife says the wedding is to go on--a quiet ceremony at Mr.

Bradish’s house. I fear I gave him the impression that, while there was

no immediate danger, you would----”

“Hardly pull through?”

“I fear so.”

That amused me. “Did he see my will?” I asked.

“I believe he did. I think that was what decided him.”

And well it might, for not only had he read that I had willed

three-fourths of my entire estate to my son Walter, but also he had

read a schedule of my chief holdings which I had folded in with the

will in anticipation of this very contingency. It must have amazed

him--it must have stirred every atom in his avaricious old body--to

see how much richer I am than is generally supposed. No, it would have

been impossible for him to take any chances on losing my principal

heir for his daughter after that will and that schedule had burned

themselves into his brain.

I’ve not the slightest doubt that he knew his daughter would never get

the dowry she was dreaming of, for he is a sensible, practical man.

If I did not know how glibly young people talk and think of huge sums

of money nowadays I’d not believe Natalie herself silly enough ever

seriously to imagine me giving her outright the enormous sum necessary

to produce a quarter of a million a year.

Hanbury urged that Walter and his bride go down to the country near

town, assuring them he could give them several hours’ warning of a

turn for the worse. The change in the wedding plans had started a

report that I was dangerously ill. As the best possible denial of this

stock-depressing rumour they yielded to Hanbury’s representations.

I ordered Hanbury to give it out that I was much better, as soon as

I heard that the marriage ceremony had been performed, and I began

to mend so rapidly that he, in alarm for his reputation, begged me

to restrain myself. “I want people to say I worked a cure,” he said,

“not to say I worked a miracle--and then wink.” In two weeks I was far

enough advanced for Walter and Natalie to sail on the trip which my

illness had delayed.

I was now free to give my entire attention to my down-town affairs.

My long rest had made me young again and had given me fresh points of

view upon nearly every department of my activity. Also I found that

my success with my big combination and my stupendous public gift had

enormously increased my reputation. Half one’s power comes from within

himself, the other half from the belief of other people in him. My star

was approaching the zenith, and I saw it. I always work incessantly,

regardless of the position of my star--no man who accomplishes great

things ever takes his mind off his work.

Not that I am one of those who disbelieve in luck. Luck is the tide.

When it is with me, I reach port--if I row hard and steer straight.

When it is against me, I must still row hard and steer straight to keep

off the rocks and be ready for the turn.

At my suggestion, my down-town confidential man intimated to a few of

the principal men in the towns dependent on my mines and factories

that it would be gracious and fitting to show in some public way their

appreciation of what I had done. Usually these demonstrations are

extremely perfunctory, betraying on the surface that they are got up

either by the man honoured or out of a reluctant sense of decency and a

lively sense of the right way to get more favours. But in this instance

the suggestion met with a spontaneous and universal response. All that

my agents had to do in the matter was to organise the enthusiasm and

relieve the entertainment committee of the heavier expenses--such as

railway transportation, catering, music, and carriages. The people did

the rest.

They regarded me as their saviour--and so I was. Could I not have

destroyed them had I willed it? Was I not inaugurating for them a

prosperity such as the former small-fry owners of those properties had

neither the genius nor the resources to create?

The trouble with those who criticise the morality of the actions of men

like me is that they are trying to study astronomy with a microscope.

Jack Ridley and I fell into an argument along these lines one evening

after dinner, and the only answer he could make to me was, “Then a

murderer, on the same principle, could say: ‘I’m killing this man

so that his family, to whom he’s really of no use, may get his life

insurance and live comfortably and happily. I’m not doing it because

I want what he has in his pockets--though I’ll take it partially to

repay me for risking my neck.’” I couldn’t help smiling--he put it so

plausibly. I should have reasoned precisely like that twenty years ago.

But my mind and my conscience have grown since then. I no longer look

out upon life through the twisted glass of the windows of the House of

Have-not; I see it through the clear French-plate of the House of Have.

When the programme for my testimonial was perfected, a joint delegation

from the city governments, the chambers of commerce, and the ministers’

associations of the five towns waited upon me to invite me to a grand

joint reception and banquet to be held in the largest town. They

invited my wife, also, but I did not permit her to accept. In the first

place, she had done nothing to entitle her to divide the honour with

me; and, in the second place, she would have had her head even more

utterly turned than it now is. On the appointed day I went up in my

private car, taking Burridge and Jack Ridley with me. I had outlined to

Ridley what I wished to say, and he had expanded it into the necessary

three speeches. In the main he caught the spirit of my ideas very

cleverly. The only editing I had to do was in striking out a lot of

self-deprecatory rubbish which would have made me minimise my part in

the new era for the towns. A man is a fool who assists his enemies to

rob him of what is justly his. How could I expect any one to have a

proper respect for me if I did not show that I have a proper respect

for myself?

Where this so-called modesty is genuine it is a dangerous weakness;

where it is false, it is hypocritical cowardice.

As the train carrying my car drew into the station I stared amazed,

much to the delight of the reception committee, which had joined me at

the station below. Before me I saw ten or twelve thousand people. The

schoolgirls, each dressed in white and carrying flowers, occupied the

front space--there must have been a thousand of them.

“Wonderful! Wonderful!” I exclaimed.

“There hasn’t been such an outpouring of the people,” said a gentleman

who stood near me, “since Mr. Blaine passed through here when he was a

candidate for the presidency.”

I noted that several of the committee grew red and frowned at him.

Afterward Ridley told me why--the Blaine demonstration had led them

to expect that he would carry the county by an overwhelming majority;

instead, he had lost it by a “landslide” vote against him.

When the train stopped, a battery of artillery began to fire a salute

of one hundred guns. Several bands struck up, the children sang “The

Star-Spangled Banner,” and the crowd burst into frenzies of cheering.

I was overcome with emotion and the tears streamed down my cheeks. At

that the cheering was more tremendous and I saw many of the women and

little girls crying.

I entered the carriage drawn by six horses, the mayor of the town

beside me, and the march to the Court House began. I had given my

workingmen a holiday and my excursion trains had poured the people

of the four other towns into this fifth town, about quadrupling its

population for the day. The streets were therefore thronged from the

house-walls to the edges of a lane just wide enough for the procession.

The houses were draped with bunting; arches of evergreens and bunting,

each bearing my name and words of welcome, spanned the route of march

at frequent intervals. I stood all the way, my hat in hand. As I bowed,

the cheers answered me. The bells in all the towers and steeples rang,

cannon boomed, and the procession, in five divisions, each with a band

and militia, wound in my wake. My heart swelled with triumph and with

grateful appreciation. I fully realised myself for the first time in my

life.

As I have said, I always did have a self-respecting opinion of

myself, even when an over-nice and inexperienced conscience was

annoying me with its hair-splittings. As I have grown older, and have

seen the inferiority of other men and the superiority of my own mind

and judgment, naturally my early opinion has been strengthened and

deepened. But on that day I realised how my own sight of myself had

been obscured by a too close view. My domestic exasperations, the

necessary disagreeableness and pettiness of so many of the details of

my great projects, the triviality of my routine of business and its

harassments--all these had combined to make me belittle my own stature

and bulk. On that day I saw myself as others see me. I felt a great

uplifting, a supreme disdain for those who oppose me or cavil at me, a

high and firm resolve to devote myself thereafter more confidently and

more boldly to my plans.

But--the more splendid the crown, the more splitting the headache.

At the banquet in the evening I observed that the enthusiasm of the

daytime was not being sustained. I was amazed and irritated by the

large number of vacant places at the tables, when my agents had been

instructed judiciously and quietly to distribute free tickets should

there not be a sufficient number of persons able to pay the five

dollars a plate we were charging for a nine-dollar dinner. I was

puzzled by the nervous uneasiness of those who sat with me at the

table of honour and who had been all geniality a few hours before.

The speeches seemed to me halting and inadequate--my own speech,

well calculated to rouse local pride, was received with a faint

hand-clapping which soon died away. After the dinner I, Burridge, and

Ridley drove alone to the station. It was filled with weary throngs

taking the returning excursion trains. They did not cheer me; they only

stared curiously.

When we were on our way back to New York I wished to discuss the

triumph with my two companions, but Burridge was dumb and Ridley

morose. In the morning I called for the New York dailies; they were

haltingly produced. Imagine my amazement when I saw, in many kinds

of type, now jubilant, now regretful, now apologetic headlines, all

agreeing that my reception was a _fiasco_. Only my stanch ---- printed

the truth, and it laid entirely too much stress upon the “act of

malicious and mendacious demagoguery.” That act was: Some enemy of

mine had discovered inside facts as to my manipulation of freight

rates to get control of the mines and factories, and, late in the

afternoon, in the interval between the reception and the banquet, a

New York newspaper containing what purported to be a full account of

my machinations had been hawked about the streets, and was read by

everybody--except me.

I do not here deny that the basic facts were practically true as

printed. But the worst possible colour was given to them, and the worst

possible motives of rapacity and conscienceless cruelty were ascribed

to me. Instead of showing that I was like a general who sacrifices a

comparative few in order that he may save millions and advance a great

cause, the wretched rag held me up as a swindler and robber--worse, as

an assassin!

I understood all, and sympathised with my hosts, the people of those

five towns, in their embarrassment. As their local newspapers, which

I got the next day, assured me, they did not believe the slanderous

story. But I can readily see how nervous it must have made them. It is

fortunate for them that they had the good sense to discern the truth.

Had I been insulted, I should have taken a terrible revenge, even

though it had cost me several hundred thousand dollars.

While I was reading those New York papers, Jack Ridley was smoking a

cigar at the opposite side of the breakfast-table. When I had finished,

I spoke. “Did you see that newspaper yesterday?” I demanded, my rage

hardly able to wait upon his answer before bursting.

Ridley nodded.

“And Burridge?”

“Yes--he saw it.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Bad news will always keep.”

I shouted for Burridge, and, when he came, ordered him into a seat.

“At every step in my career I’ve been harassed and hampered by petty

minds,” I said--“not among my enemies, for there they have been a help,

but among my employees and servants of every kind. How often have I

told both of you never to think for me? I don’t pay you to _think_--I

pay you to _do_ what _I_ think. Had you told me I could have met this

slander when and where it showed itself and would have choked it to

death. As it is, everybody except you two believes I knew and was

silent. Fortunately my reputation is strong enough to compel them to

put a decent interpretation on my silence. But no thanks to you! I

discharge you both.”

Burridge rose and went to the other part of the car--and I did not

see him again. Ridley fell to whimpering and crying, and for old

friendship’s sake, and because the poor devil is useful in his way, I

took him back at two-thirds his former pay. His gratitude was really

touching--sometimes I think he’s honestly fond of me, though no doubt

the wages and what he has free enter into it. He’s one of those fellows

who actually enjoy licking the hand they fear. Burridge did not try

to get himself reinstated. Probably he thought himself indispensable

and held aloof in the belief that I would beg him to come back. But

I was on the whole glad to get rid of him. He was too much of an

alleged gentleman for the work he had to do. There’s room for only one

gentleman in my establishment.

Into his place I put a young chap named Cress who had been near me

at the office for several years and had shown loyalty, energy, and

discretion. He was not at his new work a week before my wife came to

me in a hot temper and demanded that he be dismissed. “He has insulted

me!” she said, her head rearing and her nose in the air.

“How?” I asked; “I can’t discharge a faithful servant on a mere

caprice.”

“He has dared to question my accounts,” she replied, in her grandest

manner.

This was interesting! “But that’s his business,” said I; “that’s what I

pay him for.”

“To insult your wife?”

“To guard my money.”

“Mr. Burridge never found it necessary to insult me in guarding your

money. He ventured to assume that as your wife I was to be respected,

and----”

“Burridge had no right to assume any such thing,” I said. “He was

nothing but my machine--my cash-register. I instructed him, again and

again, to assume that everybody was dishonest. A ridiculous mess I

should make of my affairs if I did not keep a most rigid system of

checks upon everybody. You must remember, my dear, that I am beset by

hungry fellows, many of them clever and courageous, waiting for me to

relax my vigilance so that they can swoop on my fortune. I’m moving

through a swarm of parasites who prey upon my prey or upon me, and the

larger I become the larger the swarm and the more dangerous. I must

have eyes everywhere. You should be reasonable.”

She gave me a curious look. “And you’re so sublimely unconscious of

yourself!” she said. “That is why you are so terrible. But it saves you

from being repulsive.” I was instantly on the alert. Flattery tickles

me--and tickling wakes me. “Can’t you see, you great monster of a man,”

she went on, “that you mustn’t treat your wife and children as if they

were parasites?”

“They must keep their accounts with my fortune straight,” said I.

To that point I held while she cajoled, stormed, denounced,

threatened, wept. The longer she worked upon me the more set I became,

for the more firmly I was convinced that there had been some sort of

chicanery at which that weak fool Burridge had winked. She was greatly

agitated--and not with anger--when she left me, though she tried to

conceal it. I sent for Cress and ordered him to hunt out Burridge’s

accounts and vouchers for the past fifteen years, or ever since I put

my domestic finances on the sound basis of business. I told him to take

everything to an expert accountant.

After two days’ search he reported to me that he could find accounts

for only nine years back and vouchers for only the last three years.

The rest had been lost or deliberately destroyed--contrary to my

emphatic orders. One of the curses of large affairs with limited time

and imbecile agents is the vast number of ragged ends hanging out. I

never take up any part of my business after having disregarded it for

a while without finding it ravelled and ravelling. A week later I had

the accountant’s report, reviewed by Cress. I read it with amazement.

I sent at once for my wife. I ordered Cress out of the room as soon as

she entered, for I wished to spare her all unnecessary humiliation.

“Madam,” said I, without the slightest heat, “you will kindly make over

to me all my money and property which you have got by juggling your

accounts. It’s about half a million, I think--Cress and I may presently

discover that it is more. But, whatever it is, it must all be made

over.”

“I have nothing that belongs to you,” she replied, as calm as I, and

facing me steadily.

“We won’t quibble,” said I, determined to keep my temper. “All you

have must be made over. I give you until--day after to-morrow morning.”

“I shall answer then as I answer now,” she said--and I saw that she

felt cornered and would fight to the last.

“I’ve often heard,” I went on, “that some wives take advantage of their

husbands’ carelessness and confidence to--to--I shall not use the

proper word--I shall say to _reserve_ from the household and personal

allowances by over-charges, by conspiring with tradespeople of all

kinds, by making out false bills, by substitution of jewels----”

“That is true enough,” she interrupted. “Women who thought they were

marrying men and find they are married to monsters sometimes do imitate

their husbands’ methods in a small, feeble way, and for self-defence

and for the defence of their children, and I’m one of those women. I’m

ashamed of it--you’ve not hardened me beyond shame yet. But in another

sense I’m not ashamed of it--I’m----”

“We won’t quarrel,” said I; “I’m not the keeper of your conscience. All

I say is--disgorge!”

“I’ve nothing that belongs to you,” she repeated.

“Then you deny that you have sto--” I began.

“I deny nothing. I have learned much from you since you ceased to be a

man, but I’ve not yet learned how to educate my conscience into being

my pander.”

I smiled and pointed significantly at the cooked accounts. “Yes--here’s

the evidence how sensitive your conscience is and how it must trouble

you!” I couldn’t resist saying this. It was a mistake, as retorts

always are--for it was the spark that touched off her temper.

“My conscience does trouble me!” she blazed out--“troubles me because

I have remained in this house all these years. I have permitted myself

and my children to become corrupted. I have been content with merely

trying to provide against your going mad with vanity and greediness,

and turning against your own children. I am guilty--though I stayed

first through weakness and love of you--guilty because afterward it

was weakness and love of what your wealth bought that kept me. But I

thought it was my duty to my children. I should have gone and taken

them with me. I should have gone the day I learned you had stolen

Judson’s----”

In my fury I almost struck her. The very mention of Judson’s name makes

me irresponsible. But she did not flinch. “Yes,” she went on, “and if

you persist in your demand, if you don’t call off that miserable spy of

yours, I tell you, James Galloway, I’ll walk out of your house publicly

and never set foot in it again!”

“After you have disgorged,” said I, getting and keeping myself well in

hand.

“I shall go,” she continued, “and what will become of your social

ambitions, of your pet scheme to marry Aurora to Horton Kirkby, of

your public reputation? If I go, the whole country shall ring with the

scandal of it.”

I hadn’t thought of that! I saw instantly that she had me. With a

scandal of that kind public, it would be impossible to marry Aurora

into one of the oldest and proudest and richest families in New York. I

knew just how it would impress old Mrs. Kirkby, who, if her notion of

her social position were correct, would find all New York on its knees

as she took the air in her victoria. Then there was Natalie--it would

surely stir her up to do something disagreeable when she learns that

she isn’t going to get the quarter of a million a year she’s dreaming

of.

I studied my wife carefully as she stood facing me, and afterward,

while we went on with our talk, and saw that she meant just what she

said, I pretended to believe her statement that she hadn’t more than

a small part of her “commissions” left--indeed, it may be so. With

this pretence as a basis, I let her off from disgorging. “But,” said

I, “hereafter Cress manages the household--_all_ the accounts--I can’t

trust you.”

“As you will,” she replied, affecting indifference. Probably she was so

relieved by my consenting to drop the past that she was glad to concede

the future.

If women were as large as they are crafty, it would be the men who

would stay at home and mind the babies. As it is they can only irritate

and hamper the men. It is fortunate for me that women have never had

influence over me. I’d not be where I am if I had taken them seriously.

Soon after this shocking discovery there happened what was, in some

respects, the most unpleasant incident of my life.

One afternoon, as the heating apparatus in my sitting-room was out of

order, I went down to the library and was lying on the lounge thinking

out some of the day’s business complications. I was presently disturbed

by the sound of excited voices--my wife’s and my daughter Helen’s. The

noise came from the small reception-room adjoining the library. It

is very annoying to hear voices, especially agitated voices, and not

to be able to distinguish the words. I rose and went quietly to the

connecting door and listened.

“I won’t have it, Helen!” my wife was saying. “You know that is the

most exclusive dancing class in New York.”

“I don’t care; I shall never go again--_never_!” The child’s voice was

as resolute as it was angry.

“Helen, you must not speak in that way to your mother!” replied my

wife. “Unless you give a good reason, you must go--and there can’t be

any reason.”

“Don’t ask me, mother!” she pleaded.

“You must tell me why. I insist.”

There was a long silence, then Helen said: “I can’t tell you any more

than that some of the girls--insult me.”

“What _do_ you mean?” exclaimed my wife.

“Several of them turn their backs on me, and won’t speak to me, and

look at me--_oh_!” That exclamation came in a burst of fury. “And they

sneer at me to the boys--and some of them won’t speak to me, either.”

There was another silence. Then my wife said: “You must expect that,

Helen. So many are envious of your father’s--of his wealth, that they

try to take their spite out upon us. But you must have pride. The way

to deal with such a situation is to face it--to----”

All the blame upon _me_! I could not endure it. I put the door very

softly and very slightly ajar and returned to the lounge. From there

I called out: “Don’t forget the other reason, madam, while you’re

teaching your child to respect her parents.” Then I rose and went into

the reception-room.

Helen was white as a sheet. My wife was smiling a little--satirically.

“Eavesdropping?” she said--apparently not in the least disturbed at my

having heard her insidious attack upon me.

“I could not help overhearing your quarrel,” I replied, “and I felt it

was time for me to speak. No doubt your lack of skill in social matters

is the chief cause of this outrage upon Helen. Of what use is it for

me to toil and struggle when you cannot take advantage of what my

achievement ought to make so easy for you?”

“Father--” interrupted Helen.

“Your mother is right,” I said, turning to her. “You must go to the

class. In a short time all these unpleasant incidents will be over. If

any of those children persist, you will give me their names. I think I

know how to bring their fathers to terms, if your mother is unable to

cope with their mothers.”

“Father,” Helen repeated, “it wasn’t on _her_ account that

they--they----”

This exasperated me afresh. “Your mother has trained you well, I see,”

said I. “Now--I tell you that what you say is----”

She started to her feet, her eyes flashing, her breath coming fast.

“I’ll tell you why I came home to-day and said I’d never go there

again. I was talking to Herbert Merivale at the dance, this afternoon,

and his sister Nell and Lottie Stuyvesant were sitting near, and Lottie

said, loud, so that Herbert and I would hear: ‘I don’t see why your

brother talks to her. None of the very nice boys and girls will have

anything to do with her, you know. How can we when she’s--she’s----’”

Helen stopped, her face flushed, and her head dropped. My wife said:

“Go on, Helen; what was it?”

“‘When she’s the--the--daughter of a--_thief_!’”

I was so overwhelmed that I fairly staggered into a chair. Helen

darted to me and knelt beside me. “And I _won’t_ go there again! I

didn’t show her that I was cut. I didn’t feel cut. I only felt what

a great, noble father I have, and how low and contemptible all those

girls and boys and their parents are. I stayed until nearly the last.

But I’ll never go again. You won’t ask me to, will you, father?”

I patted her on the shoulder. It was impossible for me to answer her.

Whether through fear of me or to gain her point with her child, my wife

concealed the triumph she must have felt, and said: “The more reason

for going, Helen. Where is your pride? If you should stay away, they

would say it was because you were ashamed----”

“But that isn’t the reason,” interrupted Helen. “And I don’t care what

_they_ think!” she added, scornfully.

I have never been in such a rage as possessed me at that moment. I felt

an insane impulse to rush out and strangle and torture those envious

wretches who were seeking to revenge themselves for having been worsted

in the encounter with me down-town by humiliating my children. But

the matter of Helen’s holding the social advantage we had gained when

we got the Merivales to put her in that class was too important to be

neglected for a burst of impotent fury. I joined with her mother, and

finally we brought her round to see that she must keep on at the class

and must make a fight to overthrow the _clique_ of traducers of her

father. When she saw it her enthusiasm was roused, and--well, she can’t

fail to win with her cleverness and good looks, and with me to back her

up.

What that miserable girl said in her hearing, and her expression as she

repeated it, comes back to me again and again, and, somehow, I feel as

if old Judson were getting revenge upon me. First James--and now Helen!

But James believed it, while Helen, splendid girl that she is, knew at

once that it was untrue. At least, I think so.

What an ugly word “thief” is! And how ugly it sounds from the lips

of my child--even when there is no real justification for it! I know

that all who come in contact with me, whether socially or in business,

envy and hate me. It seems to me now that I know the thought in their

spiteful brains--know the word that trembles on their lips but dares

not come out.

Yesterday I turned upon my wife when we were alone for a moment. I have

felt that she has been gloating over me ever since that afternoon.

“Well,” I said, angrily--for I have been extremely irritable through

sleeplessness of late, “why don’t you say it, instead of keeping this

cowardly silence? Why don’t you taunt me?”

She showed what she’d been thinking by understanding me instantly.

“Taunt you!” she said; “I’m trying to forget it--I’ve been trying to

forget it all these years. That’s why I’m an old woman long before my

time.”

Her look was a very good imitation of tragedy. I felt unable to answer

her and so begin a quarrel that might have relieved my mind. The best

I was able to do was to say, sarcastically: “So that’s the reason, is

it? I had noted the fact, but was attributing it to your anxiety about

falsifying your accounts.”