Part 40 (1/2)
The prosecuting attorney looked at the jury again in triumph. ”And that, gentlemen, is why the Prince William Development Company was so ready to finance one of those embryo railroads; why those Mata.n.u.ska coal claims were located by the syndicate's stenographers, bookkeepers, any employee down here in their Seattle offices. Mr. Tisdale, if those patents had been allowed and the claims had been turned over to the company, would it not have given the Morganstein interests a monopoly on Alaska coal?”
Tisdale paused a thoughtful moment. ”No, at least only temporarily, if at all. Out of those eight millions of acres of coal land already discovered in Alaska, not more than thirty-two thousand acres have been staked--only one claim, an old and small mine on the coast, has been allowed.” His glance moved slowly over the jury, from face to face, and he went on evenly: ”You can't expect capital to invest without some inducement. The Northern Pacific, the first trans-continental railroad in the United States, received enormous land grants along the right of way; but the Prince William Development Company, which intends ultimately to bridge distances as vast, to tap the unknown resources of the Alaska interior, has not asked for concessions, beyond the privilege to develop such properties as it may have acquired by location and purchase. Surely the benefit that railroad would be in opening the country to settlement and in the saving of human life, should more than compensate for those few hundreds of acres of the Government's coal.”
”Mr. Tisdale,” said the attorney sharply, ”that, in an employee of the Government, is a strange point of view.”
Tisdale's hands sought his pockets; he returned Mr. Bromley's look with his steady, upward gaze from under slightly frowning brows. ”The perspective changes at close range,” he said. ”The Government knows less about its great possession of Alaska than England knew about her American colonies, one hundred and fifty years ago. The United States had owned Alaska seventeen years before any form of government was established there; more than thirty before a criminal code was provided, and thirty-three years before she was given a suitable code of civil laws.
Now, to-day, there are no laws operative in Alaska under which t.i.tle may be acquired to coal land. Alaska has yielded hundreds of millions of dollars from her placers, her fisheries, and furs, but the only thing the Government ever did for Alaska was to import reindeer for the use of the Esquimos.”
Another ripple of laughter pa.s.sed through the courtroom; even the judge on the bench smiled. But Mr. Bromley's face was a study. He began to fear the effect of Tisdale's astonis.h.i.+ng statements on the jury, while at the same time he was impelled to listen. In the moment he hesitated over a question, Hollis lifted his head and said mellowly: ”The sins of Congress have not been in commission but in omission. They are under the impression, far away there in Was.h.i.+ngton, that Alaska is too bleak, too barren for permanent settlement; that the white population is a floating one, made up chiefly of freebooters and outlaws. But we know the foundations of an empire have been laid there; that, allowed the use of the fuel Nature has so bountifully stored there and granted a fair measure of encouragement to transportation, those great inland tundras would be as populous as Sweden; as progressive as Germany.” His glance moved to the jury; all the n.o.bility, the fineness, the large humanity of the man was expressed in that moment in his face; a subdued emotion pervaded his voice. ”We know the men who forged a way through that mighty bulwark of mountains to the interior were brave, resourceful, determined--they had to be--but, too, they saw a broad horizon; they had patriotism; if there are any Americans left who have inherited a spark of the old Puritan spirit, they are the ones who have cast their fortunes with Alaska.”
He paused again briefly, and his eyes rested on Foster. ”Do you know?” he resumed, and his glance returned to the prosecuting attorney, ”when I came out last season, I saw a s.h.i.+p at the terminus of the new Copper River and Northwestern Railroad discharging Australian coal. This with the great Bering fields lying at their side door! The people of Cordova wanted to see that road finished; the life of their young seaport depended on it-- but--that night they threw the whole of that cargo of foreign coal into the waters of Prince William Sound. It is referred to, now, as the 'Cordova tea-party.'”
In the silence that held the courtroom, Tisdale stood still regarding the lawyer. His expression was most engaging, a hint of humor lurked at the corners of his mouth, yet it seemed to veil a subtle meaning. Then the jury began to laugh quietly, with a kind of seriousness, and again the judge straightened, checking a smile. It was all very disturbing to Mr.
Bromley. He had been a.s.sured by one high in the administration that he might rely on Tisdale's magnetic personality and practical knowledge as well as his technical information in prosecuting the case; but while he hesitated over the question he wished to ask, Tisdale said mellowly, no doubt to bridge the awkward pause: ”The Copper River and Northwestern couldn't mine their coal, and they couldn't import any, so they changed their locomotives to oil burners.”
Then Mr. Bromley said abruptly: ”This is all very interesting, Mr.
Tisdale, but it is the Chugach Railway and not the Copper River Northwestern, that bears on our case. You have been over that route, I believe?”
”Yes.” Tisdale's voice quickened. ”I used the roadbed going to and from the Mata.n.u.ska Valley. Also I went over the proposed route once with Mr.
Foster and the civil engineers.”
”Was it, in your opinion, a bona fide railroad, Mr. Tisdale? Or simply a lure to entice people to make coal locations in order that they might be bought after the patents were issued?”
”It was started in good faith.” The steel rang, a warning note, in his voice. ”The largest stockholder had spent nearly a hundred thousand dollars in opening his coal claim. He was in need of immediate transportation.”
”This was after the Chugach Company consolidated with the Prince William syndicate, Mr. Tisdale?”
”No, sir. It was previous to that time. The Chugach Railway and Development Company had chosen one of the finest harbors in Alaska for a terminus. It was doubly protected from the long Pacific swell by the outer, precipitous sh.o.r.e of Prince William Sound. But their greatest engineering problem met them there at the start. It was necessary to cross a large glacier back of the bay. There was no possible way to build around it; the only solution was a bore under the ice. The building of such a tunnel meant labor and great expense. And it was not a rich company; it was made up princ.i.p.ally of small stockholders, young men, just out of college some of them, who had gone up there with plenty of enthusiasm and courage to invest in the enterprise, but very little money. They did their own a.s.sessment work, dug like any coal miners with pick and shovel, cut and carried the timbers to brace their excavations under Mr. Foster's instructions. And when construction commenced on the railroad, they came down to do their stunt at packing over the glacier--grading began from the upper side--and sometimes they cut ties.”
”And meantime,” said the attorney brusquely, ”Mr. Foster, who was responsible I believe, was trying to interest other capital to build the tunnel.”
”Yes. And meantime, the Prince William syndicate started a parallel railroad to the interior from the next harbor to the southwestward. It was difficult to interest large capital with compet.i.tion so close.” Tisdale paused; his glance moved from Mr. Bromley to the jury, his voice took its minor note. ”Stuart Foster did hold himself responsible to those young fellows. He had known most of them personally in Seattle; they were a picked company for the venture. He had youth and courage himself, in those days, but he knew Alaska--he had been there before and made good. He had their confidence. He was that kind of man; one to inspire trust on sight, anywhere.” Hollis paused another instant, while his eyes turned to Foster, and involuntarily, one after the other, the jury followed his look. ”It was then,” he added, ”when other capital failed, the Chugach Company gave up their seaport and consolidated with the Prince William syndicate.”
”Thank you, Mr. Tisdale,” said the attorney for the prosecution. ”That is all.”
Miles Feversham had, as Frederic afterward expressed it, ”caught his second wind.” While he listened attentively to the testimony, he made some sweeping revisions in his notes for the argument which he was to open the following day. He laughed at, while he congratulated himself, that the Government's star witness, of whom he had been so afraid, should have proved so invaluable to the defense. And when court adjourned, and the trio went down the steps to the street, he a.s.sured his brother-in-law there was a chance for him to escape, under Foster's cloak. To Marcia he said jocularly, though still in an undertone: ”'s.n.a.t.c.hed like a brand from the burning!'” And he added: ”My lady, had you consulted me, I should have suggested the April issue. These magazines have a bad habit of arriving too soon.”
Frederic, released from the long day's strain, did not take this facetiousness meekly, but Marcia was silent. For once the ”brightest Morganstein” felt her eclipse. But while they stood on the curb, waiting for the limousine to draw up, a newsboy called: ”All about the Alaska bill! Home Rule for Alaska!”
The special delegate bought a copy, and Marcia drew close to his elbow while they scanned the message together. It was true. The bill, to which they both had devoted their energies that season in Was.h.i.+ngton, had pa.s.sed. Feversham folded the paper slowly and met his wife's brilliant glance. It was as though she telegraphed: ”Now, the President must name a governor.”
CHAPTER x.x.xII
THE OTHER DOc.u.mENT
The argument, which Miles Feversham opened with unusual brilliancy the following morning, was prolonged with varying degrees of heat to the close of another week; then the jury, out less than two hours, brought in their verdict of ”Not Guilty.”
And that night, for the first time since Tisdale's return, Foster climbed to the eyrie in the Alaska building. ”I came up to thank you, Hollis,” he began in his straightforward way. ”It was breakers ahead when you turned the tide. But,” he added after a pause, ”what will the President think of your views?”