At this point he reached down in one of his pockets and drew forth astutely drafted maps and blueprints, especially prepared for this occasion. They showed main cable lines on North Clark, La Salle, and Wells streets. These lines coming downtown converged at Illinois and La Salle streets on the North Side—and though Cowperwood made no reference to it at the moment, they were indicated on the map in red as running over or under the river at La Salle Street, where was no bridge, and emerging therefrom, following a loop along La Salle to Monroe, to Dearborn, to Randolph, and thence into the tunnel again. Cowperwood allowed Haguenin to gather the very interesting traffic significance of it all before he proceeded.
“On the map, Mr. Haguenin, I have indicated a plan which, if we can gain the consent of the city, will obviate any quarrel as to the great expense of reconstructing the bridges, and will make use of a piece of property which is absolutely without value to the city at present, but which can be made into something of vast convenience to the public. I am referring, as you see”—he laid an indicative finger on the map in Mr. Haguenin’s hands—“to the old La Salle Street tunnel, which is now boarded up and absolutely of no use to anyone. It was built apparently under a misapprehension as to the grade the average loaded wagon could negotiate. When it was found to be unprofitable it was sold to the city and locked up. If you have ever been through it you know what condition it is in. My engineers tell me the walls are leaking, and that there is great danger of a cave-in unless it is very speedily repaired. I am also told that it will require about four hundred thousand dollars to put it in suitable condition for use. My theory is that if the North Chicago Street Railway is willing to go to this expense for the sake of solving this bridge-crush problem, and giving the residents of the North Side a sensible and uninterrupted service into the business heart, the city ought to be willing to make us a present of this tunnel for the time being, or at least a long lease at a purely nominal rental.”
Cowperwood paused to see what Haguenin would say.
The latter was looking at the map gravely, wondering whether it was fair for Cowperwood to make this demand, wondering whether the city should grant it to him without compensation, wondering whether the bridge-traffic problem was as serious as he pointed out, wondering, indeed, whether this whole move was not a clever ruse to obtain something for nothing.
“And what is this?” he asked, laying a finger on the aforementioned loop.
“That,” replied Cowperwood, “is the only method we have been able to figure out of serving the downtown business section and the North Side, and of solving this bridge problem. If we obtain the tunnel, as I hope we shall, all the cars of these North Side lines will emerge here”—he pointed to La Salle and Randolph—“and swing around—that is, they will if the city council give us the right of way. I think, of course, there can be no reasonable objection to that. There is no reason why the citizens of the North Side shouldn’t have as comfortable an access to the business heart as those of the West or South Side.”
“None in the world,” Mr. Haguenin was compelled to admit. “Are you satisfied, however, that the council and the city should sanction the gift of a loop of this kind without some form of compensation?”
“I see no reason why they shouldn’t,” replied Cowperwood, in a somewhat injured tone. “There has never been any question of compensation where other improvements have been suggested for the city in the past. The South Side company has been allowed to turn in a loop around State and Wabash. The Chicago City Passenger Railway has a loop in Adams and Washington streets.”
“Quite so,” said Mr. Haguenin, vaguely. “That is true. But this tunnel, now—do you think that should fall in the same category of public beneficences?”
At the same time he could not help thinking, as he looked at the proposed loop indicated on the map, that the new cable line, with its string of trailers, would give downtown Chicago a truly metropolitan air and would provide a splendid outlet for the North Side. The streets in question were magnificent commercial thoroughfares, crowded even at this date with structures five, six, seven, and even eight stories high, and brimming with heavy streams of eager life—young, fresh, optimistic. Because of the narrow area into which the commercial life of the city tended to
