THE CHIEF GRAFTER IS FOREWARNED AND GOES TO EUROPE.
Jacob Cobb, the big boss, sat in his easy chair, surrounded by his
spendthrift family, with whom he was communing on the glories of that
fame which money brings to those who earn not, nor spin.
It was a bright evening in May, with a red sun setting through the upper
haze on the horizon, and throwing back through the windows of his
mansion a fiery glare, like the gleam of a blast furnace permeating the
density of the pall that ever hangs over the valleys skirting the hills
to either side. Had he, or they, or any of them, been of a meditative
turn, the evening scene might have been likened to the scenes that
surround the tempestuous lives of those who toil and dwell where the
counterpart of the sun, in this comparison, holds sway throughout the
day and night.
But as they were not of a meditative turn, they never saw the black old
buildings of the workmen, as grimy as the squat old mills themselves
spouting fire from thousands of smoke-stacks, all huddled together in
the narrow ways and defiles, like so many barbarous places of
habitation, with sooty walls and streaked window panes, and fuming
chimney tops, and nowhere scarcely a sign of vegetation to brighten up
the dull tones of the desolation. They never saw the grim-visaged,
hard-fisted, half-naked men, sweating blood, almost, subjecting the
native element of iron to the changing process of the caves of fire,
before which they worked and strained their energies to produce the
finished product that made it possible for men like Cobb to live in
splendor. They never saw the simple homes, the poor homes, the
impoverished homes of some of these workmen; or their children in their
styles, their plays, their sports, their love-making, their dutifulness
to parent, their respect for law, or their shortcomings; nor heard their
ambitious cry; nor saw their cheerful endeavors to improve their worldly
affairs; nor saw the blight of poverty, nor the curse of rum. They saw
nothing, save the rolling smoke from the factory fires which the poor
man teased; and, even though it brought them plenty, it gave them long
periods of annoyance that they had to endure it. They only saw the
setting sun, in that direction, going down into a tarnished sky. But
they saw, in the iridescence of their surroundings, the gloat of pomp,
the pride of power, the sen-sen of gayety, the joy of lust, the glib of
society, the whirl of scandal--the right to graft.
Jacob Cobb was at ease, if ever there was a man in such a heaven of
exalted purification, as he sat in his easy chair on this evening. It
was the time of his domestic enjoyment, in which no one ever took more
delight, the divorce scandal talk to the contrary notwithstanding; and
this is one thing to his credit, if he should have credit for anything
he has done in this world. Money was his God. Not being competent to
amass a fortune, had he applied his talents in genuine business, he,
early in life, became a petty politician. Starting as an election board
clerk, he ascended the winding stairs of a ward heeler up the many
flights till he reached the chief seat in the inner chamber of the
Temple of the Bosses, and there he reigned--till he should be dethroned
by an aroused public conscience.
He was now in the hey-day of his power, and he ruled with a clenched
fist; albeit, at times, he heard temblors below him that might become
powerful enough to shake him from his seat. Through a College of
Embasies, with Peter Dieman as the dean, he worked the system through
the tortuous windings of every channel of business, collecting his
tiths as Pharoah collected his charges on his garnerings in the seven
years of famine, with about as pitiless a hand. And these tithings were
heavy. They poured into the System's exchequer from every source, like
the waters that flowed by the city of his birth to form the La Belle
Reviere; but, unlike that stream, which flowed to a bigger sea, they
stopped at Cobb's gate to enter silently into his dark pool to disappear
via an unseen outlet.
Jacob, not being wholly satisfied with what was clandestinely coming his
way, connived at other schemes to perpetuate the inflow to his coffers;
which was to his shame. The worst of which of his many other designs,
was to marry his children to rich men or women, and divide the loot, if
money may be christened, in this instance, by that pelfic name. Susanna,
the eldest, and Marjorie, the youngest of his two daughters, were
already bargained for by two young scions of the rich who had no more
reputation to hang to them than discarded touts of the underworld; but
their daddies had money, and that counted for much, while innocence had
to suffer. But there was Jasper yet, his own young hopeful, past the age
of twenty-six, and not yet disposed of. A glimpse into that young man's
character has been given in a previous chapter, so here it will suffice
to say that he was a profligate of the evilest sort. And Jacob wanted
him to capture Edith Jarney! God forbid such a union! Purity joined to
degradation in holy wedlock? Not if Edith Jarney knew her mind; for it
would be unholy wedlock. Mrs. Cobb was equally as mercenary with her
children as their father. She it was that first proposed the horrid
scheme. She it was that taught them how to ensnare the victims marked
for their bows. She it was that led them to the idol that they were to
worship. She it was that schooled them in the ways of snobbery. And they
called her a doting mother. And Jacob willingly acquiesced.
Those who teach that man is only a biological entity might find in such
sons and daughters good subjects for their experimentation, and prove
their theory by the aid of the divorce courts.
"Jasper, it is time for you to make some headway with Miss Jarney," said
his doting mother, on this evening, as they all sat around their father
in his ease.
Jasper, who had been sitting near in a despondently moping manner,
suddenly aroused himself to the importunate remark, and looked
disconsolate enough to arouse the sympathy of every one bent on
reforming young blades; for he had been out the night before, and showed
evidences of heavy dissipation.
"Mother, you are always going on at me about Miss Jarney," he retorted.
"She's been sick for the past five months or more; I have seen her but
once, and then had no chance of seeing her alone."
"Yes, dear Jasper, you must brace up, now, and make of yourself more of
a man, if you want to improve on your opportunity of winning such a
prize," said Jacob Cobb, with some disparaging sentiments in his tone.
"Father, you too? Give me a chance, and when the opportunity arrives, I
shall propose," returned Jasper.
"You should not lose a minute's time," said the mother, with faith.
"That man Monroe is out of the way now, and the other young man is too
poor for her to take in place of you. See your sisters! Both already
engaged, and soon to be married, yet both of them younger than you. You
are too slow in pursuit of such happiness. Why, you should have had it
settled long ago. Had I had my way about it, it would all have been over
with, and you two fixed comfortably in a house of your own, giving swell
dinners, balls and parties, eh, Jasper? Edith is a fine girl, and I know
she will be a good keeper of a house for you."
"She is going to the mountains soon, mother, I am informed," said he,
with design; "and I have half a notion to go up there for awhile to get
away from my associates."
"That's the thing! that's the thing!" exclaimed the father, delighted at
the prospect of getting the two together at some summer place. "Go it,
boy! go it, and push your suit."
"How nice it would be, Jasper," said Susanna, with glee, "for you to get
away from the city for a time."
"It would do you worlds of good, brother," assented Marjorie, "to get
away from the smoke awhile."
"You know, Jasper, we had planned to go to Paris for the summer and take
you along; but we can spare your company this time," said the doting
mother, "if it will give you the opportunity to make good."
This inane conversation anent Jasper's future was broken up by a
messenger appearing at the door, with a very urgent note from Peter
Dieman, requesting Jacob Cobb to come to his mansion without delay.
Jacob responded without delay, and was soon sitting by the throne of
that spectacular king, who still was wearing his mandarin robe, fez-like
cap, and smoking another vile cigar.
"Have you heard the latest, Jacob?" asked Peter, when Jacob was seated
comfortably blowing up clouds of white vapor in corresponding rings with
Peter's smoke-stack.
"No," answered Jacob, with no uncommon concern.
"Well, be prepared to hear the worst--Jim Dalls is back from Europe, and
is going to squeal on us," said Peter, with as little concern as Cobb at
first appeared to show.
"No!" exclaimed Jacob, with a cloud on his face that was sufficient
almost to obscure the smoke from his cigar.
"It is true," said Peter, still unconcerned. "He was here this evening."
"What brought him back?" said Jacob.
"Run out of funds, he said," said Peter, blowing smoke with much
complacency.
"Couldn't you send him any more?" asked Jacob.
"I sent for him," said Peter, now looking at Jacob with an air of
supercilious gravity.
"God man! what do you mean? Do you mean to ruin us all?" shouted Jacob,
excitedly.
"Be calm, Jacob; be calm, and save your nerves for what is coming," said
Peter, gently. "He came by my request, and is to make a confession
before the grand jury--at my request, too. So if you want to save your
old bacon, pull down your shaky house of graft and hit the trail for
Europe; for you will be the first one caught in the net, Jacob."
"Oh, Lord man! What do you mean? This is awful! This is horrid! This is
terrible! Exposed by my chief deputy like that! I'll never forgive you,
Peter! Never! And when it blows over, I shall return and cook you a dish
that you won't relish!" cried Jacob, now in a frenzy of excitement.
"Why, I am safe from harm," said Peter, calmly.
"What did you do it for?" asked Jacob, in great anger.
"To be plain to you, sir, I may state that that's my business," said
Peter, cooly.
"Then, we part enemies?" asked Jacob, with a daggerous look.
"We do--if you want to; but, Jacob, you'd better take my humble advice,
and go to Europe as quick as you could skin a cat. You know the whole
thing will come out anyway when that bank affair is known, which I am
assured will be exploded soon, and then the whole shooting match will be
busted."
"You had better call on heaven to help you, Peter, when I return--if I
go," said Jacob, rising, and leering down upon the king, who sat looking
at the floor now, in quiet thought.
"I am not afraid of you, or any one else, Jacob," responded Peter,
looking up. "I am a domesticated man now, Jacob, and intend to enjoy the
rest of my days right here, in this house, with my wife and ten
children."
"You scamp!" hissed Jacob, snarling down upon him, like one dog snarls
at another dog with the prize bone.
"Take my advice, Jacob, and go home," said Peter, looking sidewise at
Jacob. "You'd better be there packing your grip than standing here
calling me hard names. Europe is the safest place for you for the next
ten years; so go. I can take care of myself."
"Things have come to a nice pass," said Jacob, "when a man can't enjoy
the comforts of a home in this age without every upstart wanting to
interfere in his business!"
"It's a nasty business that of yours," said Peter, remorselessly. "I've
been tired of it for a long time, and wanted my chance to get out. The
chance has come, and I am getting."
"You are an ingrate," replied Jacob, wrathfully. "Being entrenched
yourself with safety lines thrown out, so that no one can invade your
private affairs, you care nothing for your friends who have divided with
you for years. An ingrate! An ingrate, I repeat, Peter! I shall go, and
may those vapid detectives who have been here for months trying to make
a break in our lines, find you out, and help to punish you."
"Oh, that's all right, Jacob," said the suave Peter. "I know all about
their work in this city; but I am beyond their reach. So go, if you
don't want to be pinched within a week. Go, I say, to Europe, and maybe
you can enjoy life there; and while you are doing it, think of me
sometimes, just for old friendship's sake, and take an extra drink on
the side for me--that's all. I shall never forget you till my last
breath is gone; and I shall never forget the words you have just now
said to me, and what impression they have left upon me. Go! Jacob; go!
that I may be done with you; that's all." Peter concluded this speech,
without either smoking, rubbing or squinting.
"Good night," said Jacob, leaving the king's throne; and the two old
cronies in legalized crime (for that is what graft is, nothing more),
parted forever.
"Good bye," were the last words that Peter said to him; but Jacob did
not hear them, so blind was he in his rage when he stepped out into the
cool night air to take up his return to his home again to seek solace in
the bosom of his family.
Arriving home, Jacob put his family into a wild uproar when he told them
of the result of his visit to Peter Dieman.
"Well, we were going to Europe anyway," said Mrs. Cobb, as a consoling
climax to her bewailment. "It is good that I informed our friends of
this trip, so they will now be none the wiser. The wedding of the two
young ladies can come off in September, as planned. I can return for
that, and you can remain in Europe--ill, perhaps. And Jasper need not
postpone his expedition into the mountains, you see."
"No, Jasper; you must not fail in that," said Cobb, still unable to give
up any of his schemes, so fascinating were they all to him yet, "as I
will be compelled to remain for some length of time. If you fail, our
fortunes may be somewhat impaired as a result of all this trouble. So
don't fail, my boy."
"Oh, I'll win; don't despair, father, for me; I'll win," said Jasper,
hopefully, with more interest than ever now in getting a wife with
money.
So to Europe Jacob Cobb and his family betook themselves, leaving young
Jasper at home, as agreed, to sport awhile with the vixenish little
Cupid. Punctilious, as on every other such occasion of the going of such
people, the Sunday newspapers, in their society columns, gave a glowing
account of the departure of Mr. and Mrs. Cobb and their two daughters
for Europe to spend the season (or several seasons it might have been)
in Paris; and probably, if not otherwise detained, to Baden-Baden, or
to some other noted place, purportedly for the benefit of Mr. Cobb, who
(poor man) had been in poor health for months past.
Mercy on us!