Needless to say, Mollenhauer was greatly gratified by this turn of affairs. Cowperwood was now most likely in a position where he would have to come and see him, or if not, a good share of the properties he controlled were already in Mollenhauer’s possession. If by some hook or crook he could secure the remainder, Simpson and Butler might well talk to him about this street-railway business. His holdings were now as large as any, if not quite the largest.
XXVIII
It was in the face of this very altered situation that Cowperwood arrived at Stener’s office late this Monday afternoon.
Stener was quite alone, worried and distraught. He was anxious to see Cowperwood, and at the same time afraid.
“George,” began Cowperwood, briskly, on seeing him, “I haven’t much time to spare now, but I’ve come, finally, to tell you that you’ll have to let me have three hundred thousand more if you don’t want me to fail. Things are looking very bad today. They’ve caught me in a corner on my loans; but this storm isn’t going to last. You can see by the very character of it that it can’t.”
He was looking at Stener’s face, and seeing fear and a pained and yet very definite necessity for opposition written there. “Chicago is burning, but it will be built up again. Business will be all the better for it later on. Now, I want you to be reasonable and help me. Don’t get frightened.”
Stener stirred uneasily. “Don’t let these politicians scare you to death. It will all blow over in a few days, and then we’ll be better off than ever. Did you see Mollenhauer?”
“Yes.”
“Well, what did he have to say?”
“He said just what I thought he’d say. He won’t let me do this. I can’t, Frank, I tell you!” exclaimed Stener, jumping up. He was so nervous that he had had a hard time keeping his seat during this short, direct conversation. “I can’t! They’ve got me in a corner! They’re after me! They all know what we’ve been doing. Oh, say, Frank”—he threw up his arms wildly—“you’ve got to get me out of this. You’ve got to let me have that five hundred thousand back and get me out of this. If you don’t, and you should fail, they’ll send me to the penitentiary. I’ve got a wife and four children, Frank. I can’t go on in this. It’s too big for me. I never should have gone in on it in the first place. I never would have if you hadn’t persuaded me, in a way. I never thought when I began that I would ever get in as bad as all this. I can’t go on, Frank. I can’t! I’m willing you should have all my stock. Only give me back that five hundred thousand, and we’ll call it even.” His voice rose nervously as he talked, and he wiped his wet forehead with his hand and stared at Cowperwood pleadingly, foolishly.
Cowperwood stared at him in return for a few moments with a cold, fishy eye. He knew a great deal about human nature, and he was ready for and expectant of any queer shift in an individual’s attitude, particularly in time of panic; but this shift of Stener’s was quite too much. “Whom else have you been talking to, George, since I saw you? Whom have you seen? What did Sengstack have to say?”
“He says just what Mollenhauer does, that I mustn’t loan any more money under any circumstances, and he says I ought to get that five hundred thousand back as quickly as possible.”
“And you think Mollenhauer wants to help you, do you?” inquired Cowperwood, finding it hard to efface the contempt which kept forcing itself into his voice.
“I think he does, yes. I don’t know who else will, Frank, if he don’t. He’s one of the big political forces in this town.”
“Listen to me,” began Cowperwood, eyeing him fixedly. Then he paused. “What did he say you should do about your holdings?”
“Sell them through Tighe & Company and put the money back in the treasury, if you won’t take them.”
“Sell them to whom?” asked Cowperwood, thinking of Stener’s last words.
“To anyone on ’change who’ll take them, I suppose. I don’t know.”
“I thought so,” said Cowperwood, comprehendingly. “I might have known as much. They’re working you, George. They’re simply trying to get your stocks away from you. Mollenhauer is leading you on. He knows I can’t do what you want—give you back the five hundred thousand dollars. He wants you to throw your stocks on the market so that he can pick them up. Depend on it, that’s all arranged for already. When you do, he’s got me in his clutches, or he thinks he has—he and Butler and Simpson. They want to get together on this local street-railway situation, and I know it, I feel it. I’ve felt it coming all along. Mollenhauer hasn’t any more intention of helping you than he has of flying. Once you’ve sold your stocks he’s through with you—mark my word. Do you think he’ll turn a hand to keep you out of the penitentiary once you’re out of this street-railway situation? He will not. And if you think so, you’re a bigger fool than I take you to be, George. Don’t go crazy. Don’t lose your head. Be sensible. Look the situation in the face. Let me explain it to you.
