Part 29 (1/2)
”Call to-morrow morning--say at ten. Show them in,” this last to his clerk, ”Good-morning, Mr. Barslow.”
One doesn't get as hilarious over a victory won alone as when he goes over the ramparts touching elbows with his charging fellows. The hurrah is a collective interjection. So I went in a sober frame of mind and telegraphed Jim and Alice of my success, cautioning my wife to say nothing about it. Then I wandered about New York, contrasting my way of rejoicing with the demonstration when we three had financed the Lattimore & Great Western bonds. I went to a vaudeville show and afterward walked miles and miles through the mysteries of the night in that wilderness. I was unutterably alone. The strain of my solitary mission in the great city was telling upon me.
”Telegram for you, Mr. Barslow,” said the night clerk, as I applied for my key.
It was a long message from Jim, and in cipher. I slowly deciphered it, my initial anxiety growing, as I progressed, to an agony.
”Come home at once,” it read. ”Cornish deserting. Must take care of the hound's interest somehow. Threatens litigation. A hold-up, but he has the drop. Am in doubt whether to shoot him now or later. Stop at Chicago, and bring Harper. Bring him, understand? Unless Pendleton deal is made, this means worse things than we ever dreamed of; but don't wait. Leave Pendleton for later, and come home. If I follow my inclinations, you will find me in jail for murder. ELKINS.”
All night I sat, turning this over in my mind. Was it ruin, or would my success here carry us through? Without a moment's sleep I ate my breakfast, braced myself with coffee, engaged a berth for the return journey, and promptly presented myself at Pendleton's office at ten.
Wearily we went over the precious contract, and I took my copy and left.
All that day I rode in a sort of trance, in which I could see before my eyes the forms of the hosts of those whom Jim had called ”the captives below decks,” whose fortunes were dependent upon whether we striving, foolish, scheming, pa.s.sionate men went to the wall. A hundred times I read in Jim's telegram the acuteness of our crisis; and a sense of our danger swept dauntingly over my spirit. A hundred times I wished that I might awake and find that the whole thing--Aladdin and his ring, the palaces, gnomes, genies, and all--could pa.s.s away like a tale that is told, and leave me back in the rusty little town where it found me.
I slept heavily that night, and was very much much more myself when I went to see Harper in Chicago. He had received a message from Jim, and was ready to go. He also had one for me, sent in his care, and just arrived.
”You have saved the fight,” said the message; ”your success came just as they were counting nine on us. With what you have done we can beat the game yet. Bring Harper, and come on.”
Harper, cool and collected, big and blonde, with a hail-fellow-well-met manner which spoke eloquently of the West, was a great comfort to me. He made light of the trouble.
”Cornish is no fool,” said he, ”and he isn't going to saw off the limb he stands on.”
I tried to take this view of it; but I knew, as he did not, the real source of the enmity between Elkins and Cornish, and my fears returned.
Business differences might be smoothed over; but with two such men, the quarrel of rivals in love meant nothing but the end of things between them.
CHAPTER XXIII.
The ”Dutchman's Mill” and What It Ground.
We sat in conclave about the table. I saw by the lined faces of Elkins and Hinckley that I had come back to a closely-beleaguered camp, where heavy watching had robbed the couch of sleep, and care pressed down the spirit. I had returned successful, but not to receive a triumph: rather, Harper and myself const.i.tuted a relief force, thrown in by stratagem, too weak to raise the siege, but bearing glad tidings of strong succor on the way.
It was our first full meeting without Cornish; and Harper sat in his place. He was unruffled and buoyant in manner, in spite of the stock in the Grain Belt Trust Company which he held, and the loans placed with his insurance company by Mr. Hinckley.
”I believe,” said he, ”that we are here to consider a communication from Mr. Cornish. It seems that we ought to hear the letter.”
”I'll read it in a minute,” said Jim, ”but first let me say that this grows out of a talk between Mr. Cornish and myself. Hinckley and Barslow know that there have been differences between us here for some time.”
”Quite natural,” said Harper; ”according to all the experience-tables, you ought to have had a fight somewhere in the crowd long before this.”
”Mr. Cornish,” went on Mr. Elkins, ”has favored the policy of converting our holdings into cash, and letting the obligations we have floated stand solely on the a.s.sets by which they are secured. The rest of us have foreseen such rapid liquidation, as a certain result of such a policy, that not only would our town receive a blow from which it could never recover, but the investment world would suffer in the collapse.”
”I should say so,” said Harper; ”we'll have to look closely to the suicide clause in our policies held in New England, if that takes place!”
”Well,” said Jim, continuing, ”last Tuesday the matter came to an issue between us, and some plain talk was indulged in; perhaps the language was a little strong on my part, and Mr. Cornish considered himself aggrieved, and said, among other things, that he, for one, would not submit to extinguishment, and he would show me that I could not go on in opposition to his wishes.”
”What did you say to that?” asked Hinckley.