Schryhart’s idea, like that of Hand, was to cause Hull & Stackpole to relinquish all their holdings for nothing to the banks in order that, under pressure, the latter might carry the stocks he and the others had hypothecated with them until such a time as the company might be organized at a profit. At the same time he was intensely resentful against Cowperwood for having by any fluke of circumstance reaped so large a profit as he must have done. Plainly, the present crisis had something to do with him. Schryhart was quick to call up Hand and Arneel, after Stackpole had gone, suggesting a conference, and together, an hour later, at Arneel’s office, they foregathered along with Merrill to discuss this new and very interesting development. As a matter of fact, during the course of the afternoon all of these gentlemen had been growing more and more uneasy. Not that between them they were not eminently capable of taking care of their own losses, but the sympathetic effect of such a failure as this (twenty million dollars), to say nothing of its reaction upon the honor of themselves and the city as a financial center, was a most unsatisfactory if not disastrous thing to contemplate, and now this matter of Cowperwood’s having gained handsomely by it all was added to their misery. Both Hand and Arneel growled in opposition when they heard, and Merrill meditated, as he usually did, on the wonder of Cowperwood’s subtlety. He could not help liking him.
There is a sort of municipal pride latent in the bosoms of most members of a really thriving community which often comes to the surface under the most trying circumstances. These four men were by no means an exception to this rule. Messrs. Schryhart, Hand, Arneel, and Merrill were concerned as to the good name of Chicago and their united standing in the eyes of Eastern financiers. It was a sad blow to them to think that the one great enterprise they had recently engineered—a foil to some of the immense affairs which had recently had their genesis in New York and elsewhere—should have come to so untimely an end. Chicago finance really should not be put to shame in this fashion if it could be avoided. So that when Mr. Schryhart arrived, quite warm and disturbed, and related in detail what he had just learned, his friends listened to him with eager and wary ears.
It was now between five and six o’clock in the afternoon and still blazing outside, though the walls of the buildings on the opposite side of the street were a cool gray, picked out with pools of black shadow. A newsboy’s strident voice was heard here and there calling an extra, mingled with the sound of homing feet and street-cars— Cowperwood’s street-cars.
“I’ll tell you what it is,” said Schryhart, finally. “It seems to me we have stood just about enough of this man’s beggarly interference. I’ll admit that neither Hull nor Stackpole had any right to go to him. They laid themselves and us open to just such a trick as has been worked in this case.” Mr. Schryhart was righteously incisive, cold, immaculate, waspish. “At the same time,” he continued, “any other moneyed man of equal standing with ourselves would have had the courtesy to confer with us and give us, or at least our banks, an opportunity for taking over these securities. He would have come to our aid for Chicago’s sake. He had no occasion for throwing these stocks on the market, considering the state of things. He knows very well what the effect of their failure will be. The whole city is involved, but it’s little he cares. Mr. Stackpole tells me that he had an express understanding with him, or, rather, with the men who it is plain have been representing him, that not a single share of this stock was to be thrown on the market. As it is, I venture to say not a single share of it is to be found anywhere in any of their safes. I can sympathize to a certain extent with poor Stackpole. His position, of course, was very trying. But there is no excuse—none in the world—for such a stroke of trickery on Cowperwood’s part. It’s just as we’ve known all along—the man is nothing but a wrecker. We certainly ought to find some method of ending his career here if possible.”
Mr. Schryhart kicked out his well-rounded legs, adjusted his soft-roll collar, and smoothed his short, crisp, wiry, now blackish-gray mustache. His black eyes flashed an undying hate.
At this point Mr. Arneel, with a cogency of reasoning which did not at the moment appear on the surface, inquired: “Do any of you happen to know anything in particular about the state of Mr. Cowperwood’s finances at present? Of course we know of the Lake Street ‘L’ and the Northwestern. I hear he’s building a house in New York, and I presume that’s drawing on him somewhat. I know he has four hundred thousand dollars in loans from the Chicago Central; but what else has he?”
“Well, there’s the two hundred thousand he owes the Prairie National,” piped up Schryhart, promptly. “From time to time I’ve heard of several other sums that escape my mind just now.”
Mr. Merrill, a diplomatic mouse of a man—gray, Parisian, dandified—was twisting in his large chair, surveying the others with shrewd though somewhat propitiatory eyes. In spite of his old grudge against Cowperwood because of the latter’s refusal to favor him in the matter of running street-car lines past his store, he had always been interested in the man as a spectacle. He really disliked the thought of plotting to injure Cowperwood. Just the same, he felt it incumbent to play his part in such a council as this. “My financial agent, Mr. Hill, loaned him several hundred thousand not long ago,” he volunteered, a little doubtfully. “I presume he has many other outstanding obligations.”
Mr. Hand stirred irritably.
“Well, he’s owing the Third National and the Lake City as much if not more,” he commented. “I know where there are five hundred thousand dollars of his loans that haven’t been mentioned here. Colonel Ballinger has two hundred thousand. He must owe Anthony Ewer all of that. He owes the Drovers and Traders all of one hundred and fifty thousand.”
On the basis of these suggestions Arneel made a mental calculation, and found that Cowperwood was indebted apparently to the tune of about three million dollars on call, if not more.
“I haven’t all the facts,” he said, at last, slowly and distinctly. “If we could talk with some of the presidents of our banks to-night, we should probably find that there are other items of which we do not know. I do not like to be severe on any one, but our own situation is serious. Unless something is done to-night Hull & Stackpole will certainly fail in the morning. We are, of course, obligated to the various banks for our loans, and we are in honor bound to do all we can for them. The good name of Chicago and its rank as a banking center is to a certain extent involved. As I have already told Mr. Stackpole and Mr. Hull, I personally have gone as far as I can in this matter. I suppose it is the same with each of you. The only other resources we have under the circumstances are the banks, and they, as I understand it, are pretty much involved with stock on hypothecation. I know at least that this is true of the Lake City and the Douglas Trust.”
“It’s true of nearly all of them,” said Hand. Both Schryhart and Merrill nodded assent.
“We are not obligated to Mr. Cowperwood for anything so far as I know,” continued Mr. Arneel, after a slight but somewhat portentous pause. “As Mr. Schryhart has suggested here to-day, he seems to have a tendency to interfere and disturb on every occasion. Apparently he stands obligated to the various banks in the sums we have mentioned. Why shouldn’t his loans be called? It would help strengthen the local banks, and possibly permit them to aid in meeting this situation for us. While he might be in a position to retaliate, I doubt it.”
Mr. Arneel had no personal opposition to Cowperwood—none, at least, of a deep-seated character. At the same time Hand, Merrill, and Schryhart were his friends. In him, they felt, centered the financial leadership of the city. The rise of Cowperwood, his Napoleonic airs, threatened this. As Mr. Arneel talked he never raised his eyes from the desk where he was sitting. He merely drummed solemnly on the surface with his fingers. The others contemplated him a little tensely, catching quite clearly the drift of his proposal.
“An excellent idea—excellent!” exclaimed Schryhart. “I will join in any programme that looks to the elimination of this man. The present situation may be just what is needed to accomplish this. Anyhow, it may help to solve our difficulty. If so, it will certainly be a case of good coming out of evil.”
“I see no reason why these loans should not be called,” Hand commented. “I’m willing to meet the situation on that basis.”
“And I have no particular objection,” said Merrill. “I think, however, it would be only fair to give as much notice as possible of any decision we may reach,” he added.
“Why not send for the various bankers now,” suggested Schryhart, “and find out exactly where he stands, and how much it will take to carry Hull & Stackpole? Then we can inform Mr. Cowperwood of what we propose to do.”
To this proposition Mr. Hand nodded an assent, at the same time consulting a large, heavily engraved gold watch of the most ponderous and inartistic design. “I think,” he said, “that we have found the solution to this situation at last. I suggest that we get Candish and Kramer, of the stock-exchange” (he was referring to the president and secretary, respectively, of that organization), “and Simmons, of the Douglas Trust. We should soon be able to tell what we can do.”
The library of Mr. Arneel’s home was fixed upon as the most suitable rendezvous. Telephones were forthwith set ringing and messengers and telegrams despatched in order that the subsidiary financial luminaries and the
