"No, sir." Belding's voice roughened a shade.
Came one of the stranger's rare and unmistakable smiles. "Forget all
about these plans and start new ones. I have no use for a thousand
horsepower, or five thousand, or ten. We will begin with twenty
thousand. I say begin with that. Now listen. You are appointed my
chief engineer. I said last night I did not wish to import that which
the town can furnish, and I mean it. But being my engineer you are
mine, and no one else's. The plans you will make are for me, and me
alone, as is all information connected with them, and I may tell you
that my engineers carry out my plans and not theirs. Your position
will be highly confidential, more important than you can at present
imagine. You will be the repository of much that many people would
like to know, but I will do whatever talking is necessary."
There were a few added instructions after which Belding went downstairs
in a somewhat dazed condition. Then, suddenly, he remembered that no
mention had been made of salary. Turning back he rapped at Clark's
door.
"There is one thing we did not discuss," he said a little awkwardly.
"What's that?"
"What are you willing to give me a month. I'm apparently engaged and
I'd like to know where I stand."
Clark laughed shortly. "My invariable practice is to pay every cent my
employees can earn; the more I pay the better I like it. Good evening."
Later that afternoon the engineer walked thoughtfully up to the power
canal. It seemed incredible that it should no longer be abandoned.
Staring at this uncompleted effort, he felt infused with a hot and
overwhelming loyalty. Whatever was good in him he would put into the
work. He did not dream of the magnitude of his coming trust, but had a
sensation that the curtain was about to rise on a new scene. He was,
perhaps, more than the rest impressed with the visitor's force and
hypnotic power which seemed prophetic and almost mystical. Then his
glance, wandering down stream, caught a trace of smoke where the
afternoon steamer was disappearing round a bend.
Clark had gone off by the afternoon boat, explaining to Filmer that he
desired to get a glimpse of some other parts of the country. Now he
sat immovably in a corner of the deck, wrapped in a thick overcoat and
speaking to none. In his hand was a copy of the town agreement. He
ran over it musingly till he came to the clause which set forth his new
obligations, and at this point his lips tightened a little. Had he at
that moment been able to realize every worldly possession he had he
might have cleared up twenty-five hundred dollars but certainly not
five thousand. A glint came into his eyes as he read. The agreement
set forth in Bowers' best phraseology that Robert Fisher Clark of
Philadelphia, financier,--and at the sound of the last word Clark
smiled a little,--hereby undertook to spend in various works not less
than three million dollars in the next five years, failing which his
title to the town's former holdings would automatically lapse.
The vessel moved smoothly on. Reviewing the last few days with perfect
placidity, he sent his mind back to other notable occasions when
success had been snatched from him, it seemed, at the very last moment.
The review did not depress him. He was not of that kind, but was
filled rather with a new and inflexible determination.
The dream and the vision broadened. As the vessel swung into the long
turn that leads round the first big bend, he glanced back and caught
the wide white line of foam below the spidery bridge. As he gazed the
wooded ground to the north of the rapids seemed to be covered with
great stone buildings whose walls lifted like mystic battlements in the
green wilderness. He saw railways plunging into the forest and heard
the rumble of trains that drew up to his phantom factories. He saw the
river and the lakes furrowed with ships that came to St. Marys with
foreign cargoes and, charged full with his products, turned their slim
bows to distant lands. All this and much more passed in royal
procession before his thoughtful eye. Then something seemed to leap
through his brain and he stood erect, masterful and undaunted.
"And now," he said to himself with a touch of grim humor, "now perhaps
I'd better find some money."