"As serious as you are." Covington smiled understandingly. "This is man
to man now, you know; that other talk is a great card for the Companies,
as you give it. Of course it isn't necessary to give away so large a
share of the savings."
"Not necessary, but just and--good business," replied Gorham. "This is
where you and I and the others in the Companies can reap our richest
dividends: we can take the tremendous profits which we are receiving
with the gratifying knowledge that every dollar we get is clean, and
represents an equal sum saved to the people. No one of us has made an
unfair penny out of the promotion; no one of us has improperly used the
information which has come to him while negotiating our consolidations;
there is no act of ours, individually or officially, which will not
stand the fullest publicity. What other corporation can make that boast,
Covington? The most baneful influence which corporate power conveys is
that it blinds the eyes of those possessing it to all except their own
single, selfish purpose; that it dulls their hearts so that every beat
takes them farther away from humanity, and that it hardens their hands
until they can feel nothing but the gold which they clasp to their
breasts. They have thrived upon special privilege just as we are
thriving, but see the difference. In our hands this weapon, which has
previously been turned against the masses, is being made an advantage to
them and not a menace, and yet a profitable enterprise for those who
wield it. I tell you, Covington, when this double purpose can no longer
be served, the Consolidated Companies must cease to exist."
"Splendid!" exclaimed his listener, with undisguised admiration. "This
is the first time I have personally had the opportunity of listening to
that irresistible appeal which has given the Companies the most
remarkable list of stockholders in the world. But tell me--how much of
that saving are you really going to give back to the public?"
"Your jest is ill timed," Gorham replied, sternly. "I do not choose to
have even you make light of so serious a subject. Let us have no more of
it."
Covington retreated behind the inexpressive barrier of his superbly
controlled features, but the coldness of his eyes showed his resentment.
"As you wish, Mr. Gorham," he replied, as they separated, and he
directed his steps toward the hotel.
"Does he think me a fool?" he said, petulantly, to himself. "Why should
he always hold himself above the rest of us? I'm working for the
Companies just as he is, and there is no reason why he should try that
bluff with me. 'When this double purpose can no longer be served the
Consolidated Companies must cease to exist.' Bah! I can see the shearing
ahead of us as well as he can, and he won't gain anything by trying to
assume the role of the Almighty, leaving us to be the wicked partners."
He showed no evidences of his ruffled feelings when he reached the
hotel. Alice was expecting him, but she was in ignorance as to the
nature of his errand.
"We are to have our first lesson this morning," he announced.
"First lesson in what?" was the surprised inquiry.
"In business and finance," Covington enlightened her, smiling. "Your
father has given me the privilege of helping you manage your first
business enterprise. A part of one of the concerns recently assimilated
by the Consolidated Companies is a prosperous mail-order department
which we intend to continue, for a time at least. Your father's
instructions are that all the mail shall be brought to you each morning
by a stenographer, who will receive your dictation and bring the
letters back to you in the afternoon for your approval and signature.
For a time I will give you such advice as you need, and later you will
have matters entirely in your own hands as long as you wish to remain
manager of the department. How do you like the idea?"
"It is perfectly splendid," Alice cried, her eyes sparkling. "When am I
to begin ?"
"I will explain some of the details to you now," Covington answered,
drawing a package of papers from his pocket. "You must make yourself
perfectly familiar with these, and we will take the business up
seriously when you return to New York."
"Why did father do this?" the girl demanded, suddenly.
Covington was surprised. "Isn't it something you wanted?" he asked.
"More than anything else in the world, but father never seemed to
realize it. If I can only do something to help, and feel myself
accomplishing no matter how little, I shall be the happiest girl in the
world."
"Others who are not so wholly engrossed have seen what you wanted, Miss
Alice. Perhaps you have them to thank in part."
"I do thank you, Mr. Covington, and it is good of you to take all this
trouble to teach me how to do it," she said, gratefully. "I know how
valuable your time is, and how much it must interfere with your work to
gratify this desire of mine which probably seems foolish to you all."
"Such an experience is of value to any girl, but especially to you who
are in the dangerous position of being threatened with large interests
to look after; and as for me, I shall consider this as one of the
pleasantest of my daily duties."
"You and father are so good to me." Alice held out her hand impulsively,
after grasping which Covington spread out the papers on the table
preparatory to the first lesson. The girl watched him, all eagerness,
then suddenly she laughed aloud and clapped her hands.
"Won't Allen be surprised when he hears that I've gotten my position
before he has his?"
"Allen?" queried Covington, looking up from his papers.
"Yes, Allen Sanford. Do you know him, Mr. Covington? He's a friend of
mine and I'm very much interested in him." Then she paused and her face
sobered. "Perhaps I ought to let him have this chance," she mused. "He
offered to share his chances with me."
"Do you mean Stephen Sanford's son?"
"Yes. Do you know him?"
Covington smiled, and for some unexplainable reason the girl did not
like his smile.
"We could hardly accept the substitution, Miss Alice. I understand that
the boy is erratic and irresponsible. His father has just disinherited
him."
"You don't mean it!" Alice cried, really concerned over this first news
of the result of Allen's interview with his father. "That must have been
yesterday. I wonder why daddy didn't tell me."
"Your father's mind is pretty full with his own affairs, Miss Alice,
without taking up Mr. Sanford's."
"But I must see Allen and help him--he will need my inspiration now more
than ever."
"Shall we begin on our first lesson?" Covington asked, watching the girl
carefully.
"Please do," she said. "I wonder if woman's part is to give inspiration
even after she is the manager of a business," she said aloud, but to
herself rather than to her companion.
"It is always woman's part to give inspiration," assented Covington.
"I must ask Eleanor," the girl said. "Please show me the papers, Mr.
Covington," she continued, turning to him with her mind at last centred
on the new proposition. "Your pupil is all attention."
* * * * *
Alice saw Allen just before he left for New York and also immediately
after his return, and the two interviews were interesting in their
diversity. In the first, Allen made light of the trouble between his
father and himself, and was so filled with confidence as to the results
of his approaching visit to the metropolis that the girl's anxiety was
much relieved.
"The pater is all right, Alice," he said; "he just doesn't understand
me, that's all. He's done everything in the world for me and I'm more
grateful than he realizes; but I can't let him keep tying on my bib, can
I? Now I've got to show him that I'm a man too, and then he'll come
around all right. I'm going over to New York to-night and I'll tell you
all about it when I come back. I'm not afraid of being turned down.
You're a girl and you'd be mortified to death if any one turned you
down, but with us men it's different. You remember what I told your
father--and I meant it. Watch me do the hydra act until I get located,
and then--well, then I'll start a branch mail-order department and push
you off the map, Miss--Manager."
When he returned Alice welcomed him full of anticipation.
"What have you gone into?" she demanded.
The boy's eyes fell as they met hers. "Well"--he hesitated--"I haven't
gone into anything. I guess Mrs. Gorham is right about New York being a
hard place to get started in, and I can't exactly claim to be a
'finished product' yet, can I? You see, they all knew I was Stephen
Sanford's son, and they were as nice to me as could be. They asked me up
to dinner, and then I knew it was all off for getting a job. The heads
of big concerns don't ask their office-boys to their homes to meet their
families, you know. But I'm not a bit discouraged. I'm going to find
something if I have to tear a hole in the road chasing it."
A few evenings later Allen called again upon the Gorhams. It would have
been apparent even to those less observant than Alice and Eleanor that
something had happened, for the boy's face glowed with suppressed
excitement.
"I think I've found a job," he announced, scarcely waiting for the
formality of greetings. "I'm not sure, but I want to talk it over with
you."
"What is it, Allen?" cried Alice, expectantly.
"It's a whole lot better than it sounds, I'm sure. I'm afraid you'll
laugh when I tell you. It's selling books."
"A book agent!" Mrs. Gorham exclaimed.
"There! that's just what I was afraid of." Allen's expression showed
mingled distress and despair. "It really looks like a corking good
chance, yet it's a ten to one shot that I'll be laughed out of taking it
before I begin."
"Don't mind what I said." Mrs. Gorham hastened to atone for her
involuntary exclamation. "I suppose it can be a perfectly honorable
occupation, but I can't help thinking of some of the experiences my
friends have had. Tell us all about it."
"Eleanor and I would be the last ones to discourage you," Alice added.
"I think it's fine that you have gotten as far as this."
Allen's drooping spirits revived at once, and he beamed at Alice
gratefully.
"I've simply got to get more experience," he said, emphatically. "Mr.
Gorham told me that most of the best companies have no time to develop
their own material, and I've made up my mind definitely that I'm going
to do my own developing right now; and when I've polished up the
material until I can see my face in it, I'll apply again to Mr.
President, and say, 'Here I am, all developed--now will you give me a
job?'"
"Splendid !" cried Alice, clapping her hands. "Now tell us what you've
found. Where is the book-shop?"
"It isn't in a book-shop at all," Allen replied, his assurance again
beginning to wane. "It's just what Mrs. Gorham called it."
"Oh," the girl remarked--"going around from house to house?"
Allen nodded his head. "But think of the experience I'll get, Alice," he
insisted. "The directions say, 'If the man of the house is at home make
some excuse and call again'; but with my usual luck he's sure to see me
first, and then I'll go out on three legs. I suspect the material will
get polished all right. But the talk that man gave me to learn is
certainly straight from Persuasionville. Honestly, I'm tempted to buy a
set of the books myself--only tempted, mind you; and so far I've
resisted. I'd like mighty well to try it on you before I take any
chances."
Alice and Mrs. Gorham exchanged glances as Allen busied himself untying
a small package he had brought with him. In the girl's face there was
deep concern, but Eleanor found it difficult to conceal her amusement.
"There!" said Allen, triumphantly producing a thin booklet. "Here is the
brochure, as they call it, and here are the rules of the game. You take
the instructions, Mrs. Gorham, and correct me if I go wrong, and I'll
try to sell a set to Alice."
The boy endeavored to cover his consciousness with a broad grin.
"Isn't this great!" he asked.
"How did you find this chance?" Alice queried, still a little doubtful
as she seated herself in preparation for the experiment.
"Saw an advertisement in the _Star_--' Agents make one hundred to five
hundred dollars a week,' it said, and from what the man at the office
tells me there isn't any chance to lose--except, perhaps, for the fellow
who buys."
"What are the books?" inquired Mrs. Gorham.
"Travel books," Allen answered, promptly; "the _Home Travellers'
Volumes_. Great title, isn't it? Of course they're not meant for people
who really travel as you do, but for those who stay at home. You'll see
in a minute. Are you ready, Mrs. Gorham?"
"All ready," was the reply, as she held the leaflet of instructions
where she could follow.
Allen squared himself for his maiden effort.
"I have been requested, Miss Gorham, to give you this beautiful
brochure which describes the _Home Travellers' Volumes_. This is one of
the many color-plates which adorn the work." Allen skilfully held the
pamphlet so that the pictures could be seen. "These wonderful volumes
supply to those who cannot leave their homes all the pleasures,
benefits, and entertainment of travel in foreign lands. Do I turn a page
yet?" Allen appealed to Mrs. Gorham.
"Not yet," she replied. "It says, 'Here open your prospectus and turn to
the first color-plate.'"
"But I did that. You saw it, didn't you, Alice? Oh, yes, I remember. You
learn how the people get about in different countries and cities; as,
for instance, the jinrikisha in Japan." Allen turned the page.
"Did you do that hurriedly?" asked his coach.
"Do what hurriedly?"
"The directions say, 'Turn page hurriedly.'"
"I'll remember that. Now I will show you how Morocco is treated. Great
Scott! I've forgotten how many pages to turn! Here it is! Look at it
quick, Alice, before I forget the next! The author tells us that the
natives have such a hatred for Christians that they refuse to use these
splendid bridges. The Moors--"
"Wait," interrupted Mrs. Gorham. "It says here, 'Emphasize the pictures
by pointing to the bridges.'"
"All right--consider those bridges pointed to, Alice. The Moors are
intellectual mummies." Allen carefully turned two pages, and encouraged
by a nod of approval from Mrs. Gorham proceeded. "Why, Miss Gorham, if a
Moor happens to sit down upon a tack he doesn't curse or swear or rail
at fate; he simply murmurs, 'It is written,' and carefully replaces the
tack for some other Moor to sit on."
"It doesn't say that," Alice protested, laughing.
"Well, if it doesn't it ought to," insisted Allen, taking the
instruction sheet from Mrs. Gorham's hands to prevent Alice from
satisfying her curiosity. "You're not supposed to read the instructions,
you know. You are just to sit there entranced while I do this monologue
act--you're not even expected to ask questions, as any indiscretion such
as that is apt to make the agent lose his cue. Your part comes at the
end when I give you a perfectly good little piece of patient paper,
which you may spoil any old way you like so long as you sign your name
or make your mark--all of which you will discover in due time if you
follow the professor closely and learn his habits."
Alice and Eleanor were convulsed with laughter over Allen's antics, but
the boy soon sobered down and again assumed his dignified demeanor.
"Please observe, Miss Gorham, these endless aisles of arches which form
part of three miles of stables built by Mulai Ismail, the tyrant sultan.
He was a superb horseman. It is said that he was able in one graceful
movement to mount his steed, draw his sword, and neatly decapitate the
slave who held his stirrup--"
"You are reciting that, Allen," Mrs. Gorham broke in.
"I know I am. Isn't that right?"
"No; it says, 'Commit the following to memory absolutely, but appear to
read it.'"
"Oh, sorrow! After spending all that time to learn this, I have to spend
some more time learning to remember that I have remembered. Isn't it the
awful stunt!"
"You're doing beautifully," Alice encouraged, laughing; "but it's a
shame to waste it all on an audience of two. Why don't you make a
vaudeville turn out of it?"
"There you go asking questions again," protested Allen, "which is
strictly forbidden by the rules." The boy wiped the beads of
perspiration from his forehead. "Honestly, you've gotten me so rattled
that I don't know whether what comes now is 'low tone' or 'pass the next
picture and come back to it.'"
"It is 'low tone,' Allen," Mrs. Gorham prompted.
"Thank you; now watch me make a noise like an innocent cooing dove. The
idea is just this, Miss Gorham: the _Home Travellers' Volumes_ not only
enable you to see and to enjoy the familiar sights and scenes which the
average tourist meets, but hundreds--nay, thousands--of curious and
wonderful customs and things which the average tourist never gets the
chance to see. The real illusion of travel is spread about you, the
thousands of photographic reproductions carry you along comfortably and
irresistibly, and the whole wide world is at your feet. It is absolutely
essential that you should know something beyond the narrow confines of
the city or town in which you live. Successful people acknowledge this
to be a fact--and who wouldn't be a successful people? Would it not be
pleasant, my dear Miss Gorham--surely by this time I may say 'my dear
Miss Gorham'--to be able to talk with confidence and almost human
intelligence about the curious manners, customs, and costumes of foreign
lands? Why, of course it would--and how else can you obtain this ability
in so inexpensive, easy, and agreeable a way as by subscribing for a
set of the _Home Travellers' Volumes_?"
Mrs. Gorham and Alice greeted this climax with applause, but Allen
sternly checked them with upraised hand.
"No flowers, please, until after the contract is signed. I have already
learned, during my brief career as an agent, that no widows or orphan
children are fed or clothed by the empty, though well-meant, plaudits of
an enthusiastic populace. And now, my dear Miss Gorham--for you are
still very dear to me--this is the beautiful full Persian Levant
binding, hand-tooled in French gold, which I am permitted to offer you
at three times what it is worth. If you have more money than I think you
have, we will bind up a set specially for you for just that amount. If,
on the other hand, your financial resources have been overestimated here
is another binding at half the price which is exactly as good, but which
is prepared for just such an emergency. I leave it entirely to you to
say which of the three it shall be. Could any proposition be fairer or
more generous?"
"But suppose--" Alice began.
"I beg your pardon," Allen stopped her; "the patient in the
operating-chair is not allowed to suppose. Here is a little piece of
paper and an easy-flowing fountain-pen. This is where you place your
name and address for the delivery of the volumes."
"But that is a contract blank, Allen," remarked Mrs. Gorham.
"I know it is, but you have no right even to think such a thing. Alice
mustn't sign it right off or it won't be any practice. What do the
directions say?"
Mrs. Gorham turned again to the paper in her hand. "'If the prospective
customer should hesitate, withdraw the order form for a moment and
proceed.'"
"Please go on--that's as far as I've learned."
"'In the _Home Travellers' Volumes_ you have the opportunity to gain
that broader view of things which a knowledge of the world alone can
give you. Here you have all the pleasures and benefits of travel with
the trouble left out. Now I am sure you agree with me upon the great
value of travel--and agreeing on this point, you must agree with me on
the value of this great work.' Here offer the order form again and say,
'Just put your name and address down here, and in a few days you will be
off on one of these delightful journeys, and every member of your family
can enjoy it with you.'"
"There!" exclaimed Allen, proudly. "Did you ever see a surer thing than
that?"
"Are the books really valuable?" Mrs. Gorham asked.
"That really hasn't a thing to do with the proposition," replied Allen;
"it's the talk you buy, and the books are thrown in."
"But you're not going to take this up, are you, Allen?" Alice inquired,
anxiously.
"Don't you want me to? You know they say Fortune is bald on the back of
her head, and if you let her once slip past you there's nothing left to
grab hold of."
"It isn't what I want, Allen; but what could it lead to?"
"To the Consolidated Companies," he whispered, furtively. "I am bound
and determined to show your father that I am good enough to be annexed,
and to do that I've got to have some experience. Can you think of
anything which would be apt to give a fellow more experience?"
"May I make a suggestion?" Mrs. Gorham asked. "I think it is a very good
idea for Allen to undertake this, now that he has considered it
seriously. He wants to follow your advice, Alice, and do something. Here
is the first opportunity which offers, and I think he ought to embrace
it. I should be glad, however, if he would promise us to try his first
experiment on Mr. Gorham."
"Gee!" ejaculated Allen.
Alice divined Eleanor's real thought instantly. "Splendid!" she cried.
"That shall be the condition. If father falls a victim, your later
success is certain."
"And what if he doesn't?" Allen asked.
"Perhaps you'll go out on three legs," she suggested, mischievously.
X
Covington returned to New York several days before the Gorhams left
Washington. To the casual observer, who might meet him even daily, no
change would have been apparent in the smoothly working accurate human
machine which found its exercise through his personality. His face never
showed an emotion other than that which he wished to have seen there;
the mouth, that most treacherous feature, was protected by his heavy
mustache, which in turn merged its identity in the dark Vandyke beard,
into which all expression retreated at the command of its owner; his
gray eyes, cold in the metallic steelness of their shade, penetrated the
object upon which they fixed themselves, reading the characteristics of
others, but yielding nothing in return. His forehead was high,
accentuated by the thinness of his face, but suggestive of strong mental
capacity; and the straightness of his nose evidenced the strength of
will which had done much to give him his present reputation as a
business man.
But behind this impassive exterior much was happening. It was not so
great a change as it was an expansion of something which had always
existed. Covington had made his mark before Gorham discovered him. The
older man's attention had been attracted to him by the chain he had
developed of over six hundred separate retail stores, all dealing in
the same commodities and each one an individual business success. Gorham
watched him post his sentries at different street corners in the city he
was testing to determine the density of the traffic, finally selecting
the location where the crowd passed most steadily all day.
"I am never fooled by the noon-hour crowd," Covington confided to him;
"they spend all their time eating lunch. I always keep away from streets
where there are banks--after three o'clock in the afternoon you'll find
as much retail business in the morgue."
Gorham saw him rent whole buildings in order to get the particular
corner store he wanted, and then organize a real-estate business to
handle the rental of stores and offices which he could not use. He saw
him arrange his show-cases and goods in such a manner that customers
easily found what they wanted, were served promptly, and departed
satisfied, to return again. He studied Covington's system of turning
over each new store to a chief clerk to be operated on a percentage,
thus giving him all the dignity of a proprietor and stimulating him to
his maximum activity. Promotions were accomplished by transferring the
clerks from smaller to larger stores, which automatically raised their
salaries by the increased volume of business on which to draw their
percentage. Gorham listened to the instructions Covington gave them in
governing their relations with customers--original, forceful, and
sane--and then he witnessed in various stores the practical
demonstration and the results. This same genius, he reasoned naturally,
applied to a similar chain of large concerns, would enable Covington to
exercise his ability almost to an unlimited extent, and Gorham succeeded
in convincing him that it was worth while for him to join in the
development of the Consolidated Companies, turning over the retail
amalgamation to his chief subordinate. One by one the master mind
brought the varied corporations into line; one by one, with equal though
different skill, Covington completed the work which his chief had begun.
Between them they succeeded in filling the positions made necessary by
the growth of the Companies with efficient and enthusiastic
subordinates, so that each time the chain was let out to admit another
link the welding was accomplished without weakening the strength of the
whole.
Covington had never from the first sympathized with Gorham's altruistic
policies except as a means to an end, nor did he for a moment imagine
that Gorham himself had adopted them for any other reason than their
intrinsic business value. The whole scheme of the Consolidated
Companies, when first unfolded before him, appealed to his appreciation
of business cleverness, and he instinctively recognized Gorham as his
master. During the few years they had been associated in the same
corporation, Covington had seen his chief's genius demonstrated in
organization and administration as well as in conception, and he had not
been slow to take advantage of the lessons he was given such ample
opportunity to learn. He had expected this demonstration, but, with a
consummate confidence in his own ability to assimilate, he had also
counted on gradually lessening the gap between Gorham and himself. Here
it was that he had made a mistake, for during this same period the
development of the older man had been far greater than his own.
Covington to-day was, perhaps, as able a business man as Gorham had been
when the Consolidated Companies was born, but Gorham in the mean time,
by sheer display of extraordinary genius, had become an international
figure. The business relations between the two men were closer than
ever, but never once was there any question as to which was the master.
Covington would not have been Covington had he not resented this;
Covington would not have been Covington had he not succeeded in
concealing this resentment from all the world.
With the knowledge that he could not hope to share with Gorham upon
equal terms in the control of the Consolidated Companies, there came to
him a realization of the necessity of strengthening himself on every
possible side in order to be prepared to take advantage of the first
opportunity, whatever that might be or whenever it might come, to alter
the present relations. His marriage to Alice would be a step of prime
importance, but this alone was not enough. As Gorham's son-in-law he
would still be his subordinate, and Covington's nature demanded an
opportunity to stand at least on a basis of equality with his present
chief, sharing with him the arrogance of the prerogatives and the
absolute autocracy now assumed alone by Gorham in dominating the policy
of the business.
In Covington's opinion, Gorham was carrying the principles upon which
the Consolidated Companies was based beyond all reason. The corporation
had passed the experimental stage, and now possessed ample strength to
take advantage with safety of its unique position. Gorham was right, he
admitted, in his idea that public necessities ought to be reduced in
price when once controlled by the Companies. The public approval and
general confidence which this established were of distinct value, but
there was absolutely no reason for continuing to give the public so
large a share of the saving. It was not so much the amount that was
saved as the fact that a saving was actually accomplished which served
to advertise the Consolidated Companies. Gorham's real motive could be
only to strengthen his personal prestige. Several of the other directors
shared this conviction with Covington, and he made it his business to
discover just where each one stood against the time when this
information should serve him in good stead.
The executive offices of the Consolidated Companies occupied an entire
floor in one of the most spacious buildings on Broadway, yet to a casual
visitor they gave little indication of the vast power which centred
there. The rooms were substantially furnished, but everything evidenced
a restraint equal almost to the conservatism which is so distinguishing
a mark of the old-established English houses. This was an expression of
Robert Gorham's individuality, and the Companies itself reflected it in
its modest exterior appearance as in all other features, emphasizing the
one influence which held together and amalgamated into a composite unit
the many factors which necessarily formed the integral parts.
Gorham's ideas of business management were scientific, and his first
step, after absorbing a new concern, was to have the principles of
science introduced. He insisted that the workman should be supplemented
by close co-operation on the part of the management in laying out his
work for him in advance; by showing him how to eliminate unnecessary
motions; by teaching him to make every portion of his work, however
simple, a scientific performance; by studying his own individuality to
the extent of assisting him to correct methods which militated equally
against his own highest efficiency and the obtaining of the highest
efficiency of the machine he operated; by bringing him to a realization
that traditional knowledge of his specialty was a lower grade of skill
than that knowledge gained by modern scientific study.
On the other hand, he undertook to correct faults of administration as
well as inefficient methods of execution, demonstrating to each manager
the cash value to the Consolidated Companies of this close co-operation
with his workmen. It was shown that greater product was to be obtained
from workmen who performed their tasks under conditions which tended to
make them happy and contented, which gave them opportunities to advance
themselves to points marked only by their personal limitations; where
they could maintain their self-respect and with his help increase it, in
that they could hope to become the most skilful operatives in their
particular specialties, and to earn higher wages than any employer could
afford to pay under other conditions. With every machine, human or
mechanical, running each day at its maximum degree of productivity,
Gorham knew that the corporation could well afford to share its largely
increased income with those who had co-operated to secure it; and the
workmen could not begrudge their employer the augmented profits, since
they not only had received their share, but because they knew that the
increase was the result of the efforts of the management quite as much
as their own.
Throughout the offices themselves was to be found every equipment which
modern ingenuity had devised for shortening the processes of daily
routine, and of eliminating or reducing to a minimum the details which
so clog the wheels of any large enterprise unless properly systematized.
Every man exactly fitted the position in which he was placed, and the
machine moved forward with an accuracy and a force which was
irresistible. The same casual visitor would have noticed this had he
been at all observant, and could not have failed to admire the precision
which marked every business incident, however trivial.
Shortly after Covington's return to New York the Companies' offices were
honored by a visit from Mr. Andrew Harris. The caller asked that his
card be taken to Mr. Covington, and as it bore a pencilled memorandum
that his business was important and confidential, he was ushered into
the private office of the acting head of the Companies. Mr. Harris
seemed deeply interested in studying the appearance of the man he had
come to see--so much interest, in fact, that Covington resented his
scrutiny and inquired the nature of his business.
"Excuse me," Harris said, quickly; "I came to talk over the proposed
merger of the New York street railways."
"Then you doubtless wish to see Mr. Gorham," Covington replied. "That is
a matter which is wholly in his hands. He is at present in Washington,
but will be here within a week."
"Are you not at least partially familiar with the details?" Harris
inquired, apparently unmoved by the news of Mr. Gorham's absence.
"I could scarcely say that I am unfamiliar with them," Covington
admitted; "but the idea of the merger was Mr. Gorham's, and he is
naturally in closer touch."
"Do you object to talking things over with me a little?" Harris asked.
"There may be some points that I know more about than Mr. Gorham."
Covington nodded acquiescence, though somewhat in the dark as to the
object his visitor had in mind.
"In the first place," Harris began, adjusting himself in his chair, "let
me say that I am a director in the New York Street Railways Company,
which is the largest of the present organizations which are eventually
to be consolidated into the Manhattan Traction Company. The franchise,
as you doubtless know, has already been put through the Board of
Aldermen, and the only question now remaining is whether it is to be
turned over to certain gentlemen in New York who originally planned to
complete the deal, or to the Consolidated Companies."
"Mr. Gorham has, I believe, advanced to those interested very logical
arguments to show that the Consolidated Companies could engineer the
amalgamation to the distinct advantage of the various roads," Covington
suggested, as his visitor paused for a moment.
"He has," Harris admitted. "There is no doubt in anybody's mind that
what he says is right; the roads and the stockholders would be
distinctly benefited--but how about the directors? That is the question
I came here to have answered."
"It is a question which Mr. Gorham must answer."
Harris subjected him to another careful scrutiny. "Perhaps so," he said,
at length, "but I should like to get your opinion on the matter. You are
one of the directors, I understand."
"I had an idea that Mr. Gorham had already answered that question to
Mr. Brady, and that there was enough in the deal to satisfy every one."
"There is enough for every one," assented Harris, with decision; "the
only question is how it is to be divided. We all supposed that we were
to become stockholders in the Consolidated Companies, in which case we
should have gained something at both ends; but Gorham evidently changed
his mind about that, which leaves us nothing but the original rake-off."
There was something in Harris's manner which annoyed Covington, yet he
did not suggest cutting short the interview.
"Who are the parties involved?" he asked, more to say something than
because of any real interest.
"Well"--Harris became reflective--"there's Collins, who put the deal
through the Aldermen; he can't expect any more than we've already agreed
to give him. It cost him a pretty penny, but he'll double his
investment--we can leave him out. Then there's Brady at Tammany Hall;
nothing can be done without him. Gorham's idea seems to be to pay him
his price on this job, take a receipt, and cut loose from him; but if
Brady was a stockholder in the Consolidated Companies he would prove a
mighty useful one. Then there are two other directors in the New York
Street Railways Company who feel as I do--that we ought to see something
more coming to us out of this deal than just the profit on our stock."
"Is the opportunity to become stockholders in our corporation the
'something more' you have in mind?"
"Yes," Harris assented; "but it doesn't end just there. We have a little
scheme of our own in connection with this transaction which is worth
money, and we could put it through easier if we were on the inside.
More than this, it would save the Consolidated Companies something in
the long run."
"You have secured an option on some link in the chain and you're going
to hold up whoever tries to put the deal through until you get your
price," Covington stated, flatly.
"We have options on three links," Harris replied, frankly, showing no
surprise at the accuracy of the other's intuition.
"Can you make more out of it if we get the franchise?"
"Naturally, since the Consolidated Companies will have unlimited
capital. If we were stockholders in the Companies, we could afford to
make the terms easier, because there would be less trouble and expense
in putting it through."
"Does Mr. Gorham know all this ?"
Harris laughed. "Well--hardly. I haven't met Gorham, but from what Brady
tells me this isn't in his line."
"Then why do you give me the information? Frankly, I don't think it will
help you with Mr. Gorham."
"He isn't going to know anything about it."
Covington smiled at the assurance Harris displayed. "I have not
committed myself to protect you," he said.
"Quite right, quite right," assented Harris; "but I'll take my chances.
Now I'm going to tell you the rest of it. As I said, Collins got the
franchise from the Board of Aldermen. Brady is a director in the New
York Street Railways Company, so he keeps Tammany all straight for us.
Our company, being the largest, was to be used as the basis of the
consolidation, and the original small roads were to turn themselves
over to us for nine hundred and ninety-nine years, we to assume their
bonded indebtedness, and, besides this, agreeing to pay from eight to
eighteen per cent. dividends on their stock issues. After these payments
our company was to keep the surplus earnings."
"And these surplus earnings would be enough to make it worth while?"
Harris laughed. "Sure," he replied; "the bond total of the smaller
companies is about one hundred million dollars and the stock total only
four million dollars. What's eight or even eighteen per cent. on four
million dollars! In fact, the weak point is that even with the watering
we intended to give the stock after we got it, the profits would still
be so big that the public would notice."
"There should be no difficulty in fixing that," remarked Covington,
sagely, amused by the frank confidence extended to him in spite of his
warning.
"The only difficulty is in selecting the means," Harris continued. "Now,
Brady and two other directors and I have secured options on three short
lines which are essential integral parts of the system, and it was
understood, before the Consolidated Companies came into the field, that
the new company would purchase these from us at a handsome profit. In
fact, we four are a majority in the Board of Directors. When Gorham
first talked about it Brady laughed at him, for the thing seemed to be
as good as pulled off; but the more Brady thought it over, the better he
liked the idea. Our plan was to unload the stock on the dear public,
letting the new company last as long as it would, and be satisfied with
our profits; but Brady thinks that Gorham's scheme means success for
the company as well, and naturally we would prefer to have a continuing
profit rather than one which ceases when we deliver the goods. Lately
Gorham has been talking more with the other directors and with some of
the big stockholders, ignoring Brady; so I just called to make sure that
we stood in on the profit on the short lines, as originally intended."
"How much profit would there be in the short lines for you four
directors?" asked Covington, interested to see how far he could get the
man to commit himself.
"A half-million apiece."
"H'm!" Covington soliloquized. "It doesn't look quite so certain to you
since Gorham began to get next to the other directors and the big
stockholders, does it?"
"They've got to have the short lines, and whoever gets them must pay our
price."
"Yes; but in one case it goes through without any public demonstration,
and in the other it leaves a smudge on each one of the four which you
would be glad to avoid."
"Exactly," assented Harris.
"Well," Covington said, deliberately, "I don't think you can pull it
off. As a matter of fact, since you have been so confidential, I may say
that Mr. Gorham is convinced that there's something crooked, and that is
why he dropped the idea of having Brady and some of the others become
stockholders. We have to maintain a high standard in the Consolidated
Companies, as you can easily understand."
Harris looked at him sharply. "Perhaps the standard is higher among the
stockholders than on the Board of Directors," he suggested.
"I don't quite understand you," was the cold reply.
"We want some one of the directors to steer this thing through for us,"
Harris said. "That's the real milk in the cocoanut."
Covington rose from his chair. "I think it is time to terminate our
interview."
"Sit down, sit down," Harris insisted. "You and I have a mutual interest
in this matter, and we've only just touched on it."
The man's effrontery amazed Covington, but before he could answer Harris
continued:
"I understand that Mr. Gorham is somewhat particular about the men he
has around him, and you stand in pretty close. Now he probably doesn't
know yet that you have been picking up blocks of New York Street
Railways stock, and that you plan to clean up a big slice for yourself
when this merger is put through."
Covington's face preserved its calm expression, though his smile seemed
forced.
"So the object of your visit is blackmail?" he said. "You will fail in
this, as you will also fail in your effort to force Mr. Gorham's hand.
You have been misinformed--I have bought no stock."
Harris took a package of papers from his pocket and selected a single
sheet on which were written certain figures.
"I was afraid it might be a little hard to convince you that we had the
goods on you," he remarked. "Those are the numbers of the certificates
you hold, and here is the total number of shares. Pretty good-looking
list, isn't it?--and it's worth a lot of money."
"These mean nothing to me," Covington insisted. "I repeat, I do not own
a share of stock in the New York Street Railways Company."
"No, but your stool-pigeon does. Why, bless your heart, not one share of
that stock has changed hands these last twelve months without being run
down by Brady. Had to do it, you know, to make sure our deal would go
through. Brady owns that man who bought the stock for you body and soul.
Now, how does it look to you, son? Will you come with me and talk with
Brady, or shall I see the virtuous Mr. Gorham and show him what you've
been doing on the side?"
Covington's face was as impassive as ever when he turned again, looking
his companion straight in the eye.
"You won't do it?" Harris asked, surprised. "Better think--"
"I shall be very glad to see Mr. Brady with you," was the unexpected
answer.