CHAPTER XII

TEMPTATION

When Stuart had seated himself on a luxurious leather-covered chair in

the little sitting-room he gazed into the flickering fire with a

feeling of strange excitement.

He could hear Bivens giving orders to his employees about the removal

of his millions to the vaults below. It would take hours to complete

the task. He could hear the deep vibrant ring of the gold, as the men

dumped it into bags.

As he listened to the curious sound he began dimly to realize that the

foundation of his life and character were being undermined. There could

be no mistake about it. He had made some brave talk to Bivens's face as

he stared at the daring display of his money. He couldn't realize it

then. He was on guard. But now that he was alone and his imagination

began to paint pictures and his fancy to weave visions, he saw the

beckoning hand of Temptation from a high mountain wave invitingly

toward the world below, and the vision was beautiful.

He lifted his eyes from the fire and they rested on an exquisite

miniature of Nan which had been painted just after her marriage. The

artist had caught the pose of her magnificent neck and head in an

inspired moment. He forgot the ten black years of loneliness and

struggle. He was standing before her again in all the pride and

strength of those last days of passionate longing and bitter rebellion.

His heart gave a throb of fierce protest against the fate that had

robbed him of the one thing on earth he had ever really desired. He

tried in vain to separate her from the struggle of character and

principle he was fighting with Bivens. In spite of every effort his

imagination persisted in painting scenes with Nan which must come

inevitably from an intimate business association with her husband. The

very idea of such treachery roused his soul to fury, but always the

picture returned and always Nan's smiling face came to beckon him on

and her voice, soft and full of tenderness, called.

When Bivens entered he found his tall figure bent low in the chair and

a scowl on his face.

The little black eyes sparkled with the certainty of victory. He knew

the poison was at work and its wine had found the soul.

"Now, Jim, down to business!"

Stuart looked up with a start, recovered himself and replied sharply:

"All right--fire away."

Bivens drew a chair close, rubbed his slender hands and began in quiet

tones:

"You can see that I have the cash. What I must have to do the big thing

I've dreamed is a right-hand man whom I can trust with my money, my

body, and my soul. He must be a man with brains, and far-seeing eyes. A

man who will fight to the death and be loyal with every breath, who

will work day and night, a man of iron nerve, iron muscle and a heart

of steel. Come in with me, Jim, for all you're worth, with all your

brain and will and personality, without a single reservation, and I'll

give you a partnership of one-fourth interest in my annual income and

I'll guarantee that it shall never be less than a million a year."

Stuart sprang to his feet and stared at Bivens, gasping!

"You mean this--are you serious?"

A friendly smile lighted the dark face as he slowly replied:

"Certainly I'm serious. And my proposition is a sound one from a

business point of view, otherwise I wouldn't make it, though you are

the only man in the world who might tempt me to do a foolish thing for

purely sentimental reasons. Still the offer is not made because you

fought the battle of a poor white boy one day down South a long time

ago. I've made it because I know you're worth it."

Stuart shook his head.

"I expected the offer of a generous salary, Cal, but this is simply

stunning."

"I told you I'd make you a proposition so big and generous you couldn't

get away from it. But mind you, I've the best reasons for making it. We

are entering the last phase of a world-struggle for financial

supremacy. This country is to be the real centre of modern power. Out

in that harbour lie at anchor ships that fly the flags of every nation,

but they are all carrying our goods to the ends of the earth. The

balance of trade with Europe alone is more than a million a day in our

favour. We are producing gold at the rate of a million and a half a

week and we keep it. With our untold resources, our inexhaustible

supplies of coal and metal, with the most industrious, intelligent and

progressive working men labouring under the best conditions and with

the most efficient tools ever known in human history, we must become

and will become quickly the economic masters of the world. When that

happens somebody is going to be master here."

Bivens rose and paced back and forth a moment.

"Somebody's going to be master here, Jim," he repeated, "and it's not

going to be a mob, the stupid, howling, slobbering thing that clutched

at your throat that day in front of my bank."

"No."

"Nor will it be a clumsy soulless corporation called a 'Trust,' either,

a thing that can be badgered and hounded by every hungry thieving

politician who gets into office. The coming master of masters, the king

of kings will be a _man_--a man on whose imperial word will hang the

fate of empires."

"What do you mean?" Stuart asked with quick emphasis.

"Just what I said. The seat of this nation's government is not at

Washington, D.C. It's a silly idea. We have some very fine buildings

there and a crowd of fools rattle around in the Capitol and make a lot

of noise. But I met the King of America the other day in this panic. He

sent for me. You can bet I answered the call. He made me eat dirt and

swear that I liked the taste of it. But I'll get even with him yet!"

Two livid spots suddenly appeared on the swarthy cheeks and he choked

into silence.

"There was more truth than romance in the story that I deserted my

associates in that panic, Jim. I had to do it. I was given my choice. I

could do it or walk the plank. Not one of the men I deserted in that

pool would have hesitated a moment to do exactly what I did under the

same conditions; but, Jim, it hurt. Somewhere down deep there's

something that makes me hold fast to a man who stands with me. And the

one ambition of my life now is to crush the man who forced me to lick

his feet that day, and I'll do it yet!"

Again his voice sank to a whisper and Stuart watched his convulsed

features with increasing fascination.

"The world is waiting," he continued, "for its real master--not a

multi-millionaire, but the coming billionaire. The rulers of the old

world fawn on our financiers and envy their power. But the king of

kings is yet to come. If I had been ready in this panic with the

capital I have to-day I could have made a billion. With the power and

experience I now have and one such man as you on whom I can depend I'd

double my fortune every year. That means that in five years I will be a

billionaire, and only forty-two.

"Think for a minute what that means if you can! A billion dollars will

double itself in seven years. At forty-two I'd be worth a billion. At

forty-nine I'd have two billions. At fifty-eight I'd be worth four

billions--and just old enough to really begin to do things. That is on

the supposition that my money only increases by its banking power,

which is the smallest way to look at it. In seven years I'd start with

a billion preparing for the grand coup of the next panic. It always

comes within a decade. The man who enters a panic with one billion

dollars in cash if he had the nerve, the daring, and the brains can

emerge with fifty!

"Give me one billion answerable to my will alone and I can rule this

nation. Give me four billions and no king or emperor, president or

parliament on this globe will dare to make peace or war without

consulting me. The power which Cæsar or Napoleon wielded will be

child's play to the power within my grasp. When such a man lives the

world will know for the first time in history the might of a real

master.

"How long could this republic stand if such a man should see fit to

change its form? Even now our petty millionaires buy courts and

legislatures, and the control of great cities. But the new king would

know no limitations to this power. He would make the laws, shape and

dictate public opinion, subsidize the church and the schools, direct

the courts, control all industries, direct all banks, fix the wages of

labour, the prices of all goods, regulate supply and demand and absorb

all profits.

"If Europe now cringes at the feet of our present millionaire-king of

Wall Street, emperors beg his favour and princes wait at his door, what

could the real ruler of the world do with these puppets when he comes

into his kingdom?"

Bivens's voice again sank into low passionate whispers, while his black

eyes again became two points of fierce gleaming light.

Stuart watched him with amazement at the revelation of volcanic

passions which slumbered beneath his pigmy form. For the moment, too,

he was swept from his feet by the rush of emotion. And again his eye

rested on the smiling face of Nan looking at him from the ivory

miniature on the mantel.

When the crucial moment came for his manhood to answer, the speech of

brave denunciation died on his lips. The vision was too wonderful, the

heights to which he had been invited too high and thrilling to be

dismissed with words. Deep down in every strong man's soul is the

consciousness of his own strength, the certainty that if put to the

test he is the equal of any other man who walks the earth; that if he

were suddenly thrust into the seat of the mighty he could play their

roles with credit if not with glory. At the door of this yellow empire,

mightier than kings in purple rule, his conscience halted, hesitated

and stammered. He found himself, in spite of honour and character, for

the moment measuring himself with Bivens in the struggle for supremacy

which would sooner or later come between them if he should enter such

an alliance.

Bivens saw his hesitation and hastened to add in generous tones:

"You needn't rush your decision, Jim. Take your time. Think it over

from every point of view. You're bound to accept in the end."

Stuart flushed and his hand trembled as he drew it nervously across his

forehead.

"It's no use in my quibbling, Cal, your offer is a stirring one. It

tempts me immensely. I feel the call of the old blood-struggle in me,

the inheritance of centuries of the lust of battle, and I'm beginning

to see now that the world's battles are no longer fought with sword and

gun. During the past months of excitement I've felt it too--the rush of

this blood-call to my heart. I've wanted to ride men down in the

streets and carry their heads on a pike."

"Take your time, Jim," Bivens broke in, rising. "'There's a tide in the

affairs of men which, taken at its flood'--you know the rest. But this

tide will not ebb out for you to-night. I'm going to let it flow about

you for days and weeks and months if need be. In the meantime I've got

to see more of you. Nan wants it and I want it. You must come up to our

house and entertainments. The politicians have turned you down but the

big men who count are afraid of you and they'll go out of their way to

meet you. Come up to dinner with us to-night. I want you to make my

home your home whether you accept my offer or not."

Stuart hesitated.

"Really, Cal, I oughtn't to go to-night."

"Why not?"

"Well you see, old man, I'm afraid I've let you take too much for

granted. I've got to fight this thing out alone. It's the biggest thing

physically and morally I've ever been up against. I've got to be alone

for awhile."

"Oh, nonsense, be alone as much as you like later. Nan insisted on my

bringing you to-night, and you've got to come, to save me from trouble

if nothing else. I've an engagement down town after dinner. You and Nan

can talk over old times. I promise you faithfully that not a word of

business shall be spoken."

Stuart felt the foundations of life slipping beneath his feet and yet

he couldn't keep back the answer:

"All right, I'll come."

The Root of Evil · 第 12 / 22 章