“Av’nin’, Mark, I’m glad to see you,” was Butler’s greeting.
“How are you, Edward?” came the quiet reply.
“Well, Senator, you’re not looking any the worse for wear. Can I pour you something?”
“Nothing tonight, Henry,” replied Simpson. “I haven’t long to stay. I just stopped by on my way home. My wife’s over here at the Cavanaghs’, and I have to stop by to fetch her.”
“Well, it’s a good thing you dropped in, Senator, just when you did,” began Mollenhauer, seating himself after his guest. “Butler here has been telling me of a little political problem that has arisen since I last saw you. I suppose you’ve heard that Chicago is burning?”
“Yes; Cavanagh was just telling me. It looks to be quite serious. I think the market will drop heavily in the morning.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised myself,” put in Mollenhauer, laconically.
“Here’s the paper now,” said Butler, as John, the servant, came in from the street bearing the paper in his hand. Mollenhauer took it and spread it out before them. It was among the earliest of the “extras” that were issued in this country, and contained a rather impressive spread of type announcing that the conflagration in the lake city was growing hourly worse since its inception the day before.
“Well, that is certainly dreadful,” said Simpson. “I’m very sorry for Chicago. I have many friends there. I shall hope to hear that it is not so bad as it seems.”
The man had a rather grandiloquent manner which he never abandoned under any circumstances.
“The matter that Butler was telling me about,” continued Mollenhauer, “has something to do with this in a way. You know the habit our city treasurers have of loaning out their money at two percent?”
“Yes?” said Simpson, inquiringly.
“Well, Mr. Stener, it seems, has been loaning out a good deal of the city’s money to this young Cowperwood, in Third Street, who has been handling city loans.”
“You don’t say!” said Simpson, putting on an air of surprise. “Not much, I hope?” The Senator, like Butler and Mollenhauer, was profiting greatly by cheap loans from the same source to various designated city depositories.
“Well, it seems that Stener has loaned him as much as five hundred thousand dollars, and if by any chance Cowperwood shouldn’t be able to weather this storm, Stener is apt to be short that amount, and that wouldn’t look so good as a voting proposition to the people in November, do you think? Cowperwood owes Mr. Butler here one hundred thousand dollars, and because of that he came to see him tonight. He wanted Butler to see if something couldn’t be done through us to tide him over. If not”—he waved one hand suggestively—“well, he might fail.”
Simpson fingered his strange, wide mouth with his delicate hand. “What have they been doing with the five hundred thousand dollars?” he asked.
“Oh, the boys must make a little somethin’ on the side,” said Butler, cheerfully. “I think they’ve been buyin’ up street-railways, for one thing.” He stuck his thumbs in the armholes of his vest. Both Mollenhauer and Simpson smiled wan smiles.
“Quite so,” said Mollenhauer. Senator Simpson merely looked the deep things that he thought.
He, too, was thinking how useless it was for anyone to approach a group of politicians with a proposition like this, particularly in a crisis such as bid fair to occur. He reflected that if he and Butler and Mollenhauer could get together and promise Cowperwood protection in return for the surrender of his street-railway holdings it would be a very different matter. It would be very easy in this case to carry the city treasury loan along in silence and even issue more money to support it; but it was not sure, in the first place, that Cowperwood could be made to surrender his stocks, and in the second place that either Butler or Mollenhauer would enter into any such deal with him, Simpson. Butler had evidently come here to say a good word for Cowperwood. Mollenhauer and himself were silent rivals. Although they worked together politically it was toward essentially different financial ends. They were allied in no one particular financial proposition, any more than Mollenhauer and Butler were. And besides, in all probability Cowperwood was no fool. He was not equally guilty with Stener; the latter had loaned him money. The Senator reflected on whether he should broach some such subtle solution of the situation as had occurred to him to his colleagues, but he decided not. Really Mollenhauer was too treacherous a man to work with on a thing of this kind. It was a splendid chance but dangerous. He had better go it alone. For the present they should demand of Stener that he get Cowperwood to return the five hundred thousand dollars if he could. If not, Stener could be sacrificed for the benefit of the party, if need be. Cowperwood’s stocks, with this tip as to his condition, would, Simpson reflected, offer a good opportunity for a little stock-exchange work on the part of his own brokers. They could spread rumors as to Cowperwood’s condition and then offer to take his shares off his hands—for a song, of course. It was an evil moment that led Cowperwood to Butler.
“Well, now,” said the Senator, after a prolonged silence, “I might sympathize with Mr. Cowperwood in his situation, and I certainly don’t blame him for buying up street-railways if he can; but I really don’t see what can be done for him very well in this crisis. I don’t know about you, gentlemen, but I am rather certain that I am not in a position to pick other people’s chestnuts out of the fire if
