TISDALE OF ALASKA--AND WASHINGTON, D.C.
It was evident, after his interview with Hollis Tisdale, that Mr. Bromley
was in no hurry to precipitate the side issue for which he had prepared.
Every one who had taken coal land in the Morganstein group had been on the
witness stand, and many more who had not filed claims had given testimony,
yet the prosecution held him in reserve. Then came a day when Lucky Banks,
recalled to tell what he knew about the Chugach trail, made some
astonishing statements. He had traveled that route with a partner at the
end of a season in the Copper River plateau. They had expected to finish
the distance by the new railroad. The little man was brief but graphic. It
seemed to have been a running fight with storms, glaciers, and glacial
torrents to reach that narrow-gauge track before the first real September
blizzard. "But we could have stood it," he concluded in his high key, "my,
yes, it wouldn't have amounted to much, if we could have had firewood."
"Did you not know the fallen timber was at your service?" questioned Mr.
Bromley. "Provided, of course, you conformed to the laws of the reserve in
building your fire and in extinguishing it when you broke camp."
"There wasn't any fallen timber," responded Banks dryly; "and likely we
would have took it green, if there had been a tree in sight. It was
getting mighty cold, nights, and with the frost in his wet clothes, a man
needs a warm supper to hearten him."
"What?" exclaimed Mr. Bromley sharply. "Do you mean you saw no trees?
Remember you were in the Chugach forest; or did you lose your way?"
"No, sir. We struck the Chugach Railway just where we aimed to, but a
mighty lot of the Chugach reserve is out of timber line. That's why we
banked on Foster's new train to hurry us through. But we found she had
quit running. The Government had got wind of the scheme and sent a bunch
of rules and regulations. First came a heavy tax for operating the road;
and next was an order to put spark arresters on all his engines. He only
had two first-class ones and a couple of makeshifts to haul his gravel
cars; and his sparks would have froze, likely, where they lit, but there
he was, tied up on the edge of a fill he had counted on finishing up
before his crew went out for the winter, and the nearest spark arrester
farther off than Christmas."
A ripple of amusement ran through the crowded room, but little Banks stood
waiting frostily. When his glance caught the judge's smile, his eyes
scintillated their blue light. "Likely Foster would have sent his order
out and had those arresters shipped around Cape Horn from New York," he
added. "They'd probably been in time for spring travel; but he opened
another bunch of mail and found there wouldn't be any more sparks.
Washington, D.C., had shut down his coal mine."
Mr. Bromley had no further questions to ask. He seemed preoccupied and
passed the recess that followed the prospector's testimony in pacing the
corridor. Lucky Banks had been suggested as an intelligent and honest
fellow on whom the Government might rely; but his statements failed to
dovetail with his knowledge of Alaska and the case, and after the
intermission Tisdale was called.
The moment he was sworn, Miles Feversham was on his feet. He held in his
hand a magazine, in which during the recess, he had been engrossed, and
his forefinger kept the place.
"I object to this witness," he said sonorously and waited while a stir,
like a gust of wind in a wood, swept the courtroom, and the jury
straightened, alert. "I object, not because he defrauded the widow of
David Weatherbee out of her half interest in the Aurora mine, though,
gentlemen, you know this to be an open fact, but for the reason that he is
a criminal, self-confessed, who should be serving a prison sentence, and a
criminal's testimony is not allowable in a United States court."
Before he finished speaking, or the Court had recovered from the shock,
Mr. Bromley had taken a bundle of papers from his pocket and stepped close
to the jury box.
"This is an infamous fabrication," he exclaimed. "It was calculated to
surprise us, but it finds us prepared. In ten minutes we shall prove it
was planned six months ago to defame the character of the Government's
witness at this trial. I have here, gentlemen, a copy of the Alaska record
showing the transfer of David Weatherbee's interest in the Aurora mine to
Hollis Tisdale; it bears the signature of his wife. But this extract from
Mr. Tisdale's will, which was drawn shortly after his return from Alaska,
last year, and while he was dangerously ill in Washington, proves how far
it was from his intention to defraud the widow of David Weatherbee." Here
Mr. Bromley read the clause.
Tisdale, standing at ease, with his hand resting on his chair, glanced
from the attorney to Foster. No mask covered his transparent face; the
dark circles under his fine, expressive eyes betrayed how nearly
threadbare his hope was worn. Then, suddenly, in the moment he met
Tisdale's look, wonder, swift intelligence, contrition, and the gratitude
of his young, sorely tried spirit flashed from his countenance. To Hollis
it became an illuminated scroll.
"As to the main charge," resumed Mr. Bromley, "that is ridiculous. It is
based on an unfortunate accident to an Indian child years ago. The
distorted yarn was published in a late issue of a sensational magazine. No
doubt, most of you have read it, since it was widely circulated.
Different--isn't it?--from that other story of Mr. Tisdale which came down
from Cascade tunnel. Gentlemen, I have the letter that was enclosed with
the manuscript that was submitted to _Sampson's Magazine_. It was not
written by the author, James Daniels, but by a lady, who had offered to
dispose of the material for him, and who, without his knowledge,
substituted a revised copy."
Miles Feversham had subsided, dumbfounded, into his chair; his
self-sufficiency had deserted him; for a moment the purple color surged in
his face; his chagrin overwhelmed him. But Marcia, seated in the front row
outside the bar, showed no confusion. Her brilliant, compelling eyes were
on her husband. It was as though she wished to reinforce him, and at the
same time convey some urgent, vital thought. He glanced around and,
reading the look, started again to his feet. He began to retract his
denunciation. It was evident he had been misinformed; he offered his
apologies to the witness and asked that the case be resumed. But the
prosecuting attorney, disregarding him, continued to explain. "In the
Daniels' manuscript, gentlemen, a coroner's inquest exonerated the man who
was responsible for the death of the papoose; this the magazine
suppressed. I am able to offer in evidence James Daniels' affidavit."
Then, while the jury gathered these varying ideas in fragments, Lucky
Banks' treble rose. "Let's hear what the lady wrote." And some one at the
back of the courtroom said in a deep voice; "Read the lady's letter."
It seemed inevitable. Mr. Bromley had separated a letter from the bundle
of papers. Involuntarily Marcia started up. But the knocking of the gavel,
sounding smartly, insistently, above the confusion, brought unexpected
deliverance.
"It is unnecessary to further delay this Court with this issue," announced
the judge. "The case before the jury already has dragged through nearly
four weeks, and it should be conducted as expeditiously as possible to a
close. Mr. Bromley, the witness is sustained."
Marcia settled back in her place; Miles Feversham, like a man who has
slipped on the edge of a chasm, sat a moment longer, gripping the arms of
his chair; then his shifting look caught Frederic's wide-eyed gaze of
uncomprehending innocence, and he weakly smiled.
"Mr. Tisdale," began the prosecution, putting aside his papers and
endeavoring to focus his mind again on the case, "you have spent some
years with the Alaska division of the Geological Survey?"
"Every open season and some of the winters for a period of ten years, with
the exception of three which I also spent in Alaska."
"And you are particularly familiar with the locality included in the
Chugach forest reserve, I understand, Mr. Tisdale. Tell us a little about
it. It contains vast reaches of valuable and marketable timber, does it
not?"
The genial lines crinkled lightly in Tisdale's face. "The Chugach forest
contains some marketable timber on the lower Pacific slopes," he replied,
"where there is excessive precipitation and the influence of the warm
Japan current, but along the streams on the other side of the divide there
are only occasional growths of scrubby spruce, hardly suitable for
telegraph poles or even railroad ties." He paused an instant then went on
mellowly: "Gifford Pinchot was thousands of miles away; he never had seen
Alaska, when he suggested that the Executive set aside the Chugach forest
reserve. No doubt he believed there was valuable timber on those lofty
peaks and glaciers, but I don't know how he first heard of a Chugach
forest, unless"--he halted again and looked at the jury, while the humor
deepened in his voice--"those Pennsylvania contractors, who were shipping
coal around Cape Horn to supply the Pacific navy, took the chance of there
being trees in those mountains and interested the Government in saving the
timber--to conserve the coal."
A ripple of laughter passed over the jury and on through the courtroom.
Even the presiding judge smiled, and Mr. Bromley hurried to say: "Tell us
something about that Alaska coal, Mr. Tisdale. You have found vast bodies--
have you not?--of a very high grade; to compare favorably with
Pennsylvania coal."
"The Geodetic Survey estimates there are over eight millions of acres of
coal land already known in Alaska," replied Hollis statistically. "More
than is contained in all Pennsylvania, West Virginia, and Ohio combined.
It is of all grades. The Bonnifield near Fairbanks, far in the interior,
is the largest field yet discovered, and in one hundred and twenty-two
square miles of it that have been surveyed, there are about ten billions
of tons. Cross sections show veins two hundred and thirty-one feet thick.
This coal is lignite."
"How about the Matanuska fields?" asked Mr. Bromley.
"The Matanuska cover sixty-five thousand acres; the coal is a high grade
bituminous, fit for steam and coking purposes. There are also some veins
of anthracite. I consider the Matanuska the best and most important coal
yet discovered in Alaska, and with the Bering coal, which is similar
though more broken, these fields should supply the United States for
centuries to come."
Mr. Bromley looked at the jury. His smile said:
"You heard that, gentlemen?" Then, his glance returning to the witness:
"Why the most important?" he asked.
"Because all development, all industry, in the north depends on the
opening up of such a body of coal. And these fields are the most
accessible to the coast. A few hundreds of miles of railroad, the
extension of one or two of the embryo lines on which construction has been
suspended, would make the coal available on Prince William Sound. Used by
the Pacific Navy, it would save the Government a million dollars a year on
transportation."
The prosecuting attorney looked at the jury again in triumph. "And that,
gentlemen, is why the Prince William Development Company was so ready to
finance one of those embryo railroads; why those Matanuska coal claims
were located by the syndicate's stenographers, bookkeepers, any employee
down here in their Seattle offices. Mr. Tisdale, if those patents had been
allowed and the claims had been turned over to the company, would it not
have given the Morganstein interests a monopoly on Alaska coal?"
Tisdale paused a thoughtful moment. "No, at least only temporarily, if at
all. Out of those eight millions of acres of coal land already discovered
in Alaska, not more than thirty-two thousand acres have been staked--only
one claim, an old and small mine on the coast, has been allowed." His
glance moved slowly over the jury, from face to face, and he went on
evenly: "You can't expect capital to invest without some inducement. The
Northern Pacific, the first trans-continental railroad in the United
States, received enormous land grants along the right of way; but the
Prince William Development Company, which intends ultimately to bridge
distances as vast, to tap the unknown resources of the Alaska interior,
has not asked for concessions, beyond the privilege to develop such
properties as it may have acquired by location and purchase. Surely the
benefit that railroad would be in opening the country to settlement and in
the saving of human life, should more than compensate for those few
hundreds of acres of the Government's coal."
"Mr. Tisdale," said the attorney sharply, "that, in an employee of the
Government, is a strange point of view."
Tisdale's hands sought his pockets; he returned Mr. Bromley's look with
his steady, upward gaze from under slightly frowning brows. "The
perspective changes at close range," he said. "The Government knows less
about its great possession of Alaska than England knew about her American
colonies, one hundred and fifty years ago. The United States had owned
Alaska seventeen years before any form of government was established
there; more than thirty before a criminal code was provided, and
thirty-three years before she was given a suitable code of civil laws.
Now, to-day, there are no laws operative in Alaska under which title may
be acquired to coal land. Alaska has yielded hundreds of millions of
dollars from her placers, her fisheries, and furs, but the only thing the
Government ever did for Alaska was to import reindeer for the use of the
Esquimos."
Another ripple of laughter passed through the courtroom; even the judge on
the bench smiled. But Mr. Bromley's face was a study. He began to fear the
effect of Tisdale's astonishing statements on the jury, while at the same
time he was impelled to listen. In the moment he hesitated over a
question, Hollis lifted his head and said mellowly: "The sins of Congress
have not been in commission but in omission. They are under the
impression, far away there in Washington, that Alaska is too bleak, too
barren for permanent settlement; that the white population is a floating
one, made up chiefly of freebooters and outlaws. But we know the
foundations of an empire have been laid there; that, allowed the use of
the fuel Nature has so bountifully stored there and granted a fair measure
of encouragement to transportation, those great inland tundras would be as
populous as Sweden; as progressive as Germany." His glance moved to the
jury; all the nobility, the fineness, the large humanity of the man was
expressed in that moment in his face; a subdued emotion pervaded his
voice. "We know the men who forged a way through that mighty bulwark of
mountains to the interior were brave, resourceful, determined--they had to
be--but, too, they saw a broad horizon; they had patriotism; if there are
any Americans left who have inherited a spark of the old Puritan spirit,
they are the ones who have cast their fortunes with Alaska."
He paused again briefly, and his eyes rested on Foster. "Do you know?" he
resumed, and his glance returned to the prosecuting attorney, "when I came
out last season, I saw a ship at the terminus of the new Copper River and
Northwestern Railroad discharging Australian coal. This with the great
Bering fields lying at their side door! The people of Cordova wanted to
see that road finished; the life of their young seaport depended on it--
but--that night they threw the whole of that cargo of foreign coal into
the waters of Prince William Sound. It is referred to, now, as the
'Cordova tea-party.'"
In the silence that held the courtroom, Tisdale stood still regarding the
lawyer. His expression was most engaging, a hint of humor lurked at the
corners of his mouth, yet it seemed to veil a subtle meaning. Then the
jury began to laugh quietly, with a kind of seriousness, and again the
judge straightened, checking a smile. It was all very disturbing to Mr.
Bromley. He had been assured by one high in the administration that he
might rely on Tisdale's magnetic personality and practical knowledge as
well as his technical information in prosecuting the case; but while he
hesitated over the question he wished to ask, Tisdale said mellowly, no
doubt to bridge the awkward pause: "The Copper River and Northwestern
couldn't mine their coal, and they couldn't import any, so they changed
their locomotives to oil burners."
Then Mr. Bromley said abruptly: "This is all very interesting, Mr.
Tisdale, but it is the Chugach Railway and not the Copper River
Northwestern, that bears on our case. You have been over that route, I
believe?"
"Yes." Tisdale's voice quickened. "I used the roadbed going to and from
the Matanuska Valley. Also I went over the proposed route once with Mr.
Foster and the civil engineers."
"Was it, in your opinion, a bona fide railroad, Mr. Tisdale? Or simply a
lure to entice people to make coal locations in order that they might be
bought after the patents were issued?"
"It was started in good faith." The steel rang, a warning note, in his
voice. "The largest stockholder had spent nearly a hundred thousand
dollars in opening his coal claim. He was in need of immediate
transportation."
"This was after the Chugach Company consolidated with the Prince William
syndicate, Mr. Tisdale?"
"No, sir. It was previous to that time. The Chugach Railway and
Development Company had chosen one of the finest harbors in Alaska for a
terminus. It was doubly protected from the long Pacific swell by the
outer, precipitous shore of Prince William Sound. But their greatest
engineering problem met them there at the start. It was necessary to cross
a large glacier back of the bay. There was no possible way to build around
it; the only solution was a bore under the ice. The building of such a
tunnel meant labor and great expense. And it was not a rich company; it
was made up principally of small stockholders, young men, just out of
college some of them, who had gone up there with plenty of enthusiasm and
courage to invest in the enterprise, but very little money. They did their
own assessment work, dug like any coal miners with pick and shovel, cut
and carried the timbers to brace their excavations under Mr. Foster's
instructions. And when construction commenced on the railroad, they came
down to do their stunt at packing over the glacier--grading began from the
upper side--and sometimes they cut ties."
"And meantime," said the attorney brusquely, "Mr. Foster, who was
responsible I believe, was trying to interest other capital to build the
tunnel."
"Yes. And meantime, the Prince William syndicate started a parallel
railroad to the interior from the next harbor to the southwestward. It was
difficult to interest large capital with competition so close." Tisdale
paused; his glance moved from Mr. Bromley to the jury, his voice took its
minor note. "Stuart Foster did hold himself responsible to those young
fellows. He had known most of them personally in Seattle; they were a
picked company for the venture. He had youth and courage himself, in those
days, but he knew Alaska--he had been there before and made good. He had
their confidence. He was that kind of man; one to inspire trust on sight,
anywhere." Hollis paused another instant, while his eyes turned to Foster,
and involuntarily, one after the other, the jury followed his look. "It
was then," he added, "when other capital failed, the Chugach Company gave
up their seaport and consolidated with the Prince William syndicate."
"Thank you, Mr. Tisdale," said the attorney for the prosecution. "That is
all."
Miles Feversham had, as Frederic afterward expressed it, "caught his
second wind." While he listened attentively to the testimony, he made some
sweeping revisions in his notes for the argument which he was to open the
following day. He laughed at, while he congratulated himself, that the
Government's star witness, of whom he had been so afraid, should have
proved so invaluable to the defense. And when court adjourned, and the
trio went down the steps to the street, he assured his brother-in-law
there was a chance for him to escape, under Foster's cloak. To Marcia he
said jocularly, though still in an undertone: "'Snatched like a brand from
the burning!'" And he added: "My lady, had you consulted me, I should have
suggested the April issue. These magazines have a bad habit of arriving
too soon."
Frederic, released from the long day's strain, did not take this
facetiousness meekly, but Marcia was silent. For once the "brightest
Morganstein" felt her eclipse. But while they stood on the curb, waiting
for the limousine to draw up, a newsboy called: "All about the Alaska
bill! Home Rule for Alaska!"
The special delegate bought a copy, and Marcia drew close to his elbow
while they scanned the message together. It was true. The bill, to which
they both had devoted their energies that season in Washington, had
passed. Feversham folded the paper slowly and met his wife's brilliant
glance. It was as though she telegraphed: "Now, the President must name a
governor."