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CHAPTER XXXIV
The contrasting pictures presented by Cowperwood and Stener at this time are well worth a moment’s consideration. Stener’s face
was grayish-white, his lips blue . Cowperwood, despite various solemn thoughts concerning a possible period of incarceration which
this hue and cry now suggested, and what that meant to his parents, his wife and children, his business associates, and his friends,
was as calm and collected as one might assume his great mental resources would permit him to be. During all this whirl of disaster he
had never once lost his head or his courage. That thing conscience,
which obsesses and rides some people to destruction, did not trouble him at all. He had no consciousness of what is currently known
as sin. There were just two faces to the shield of life from the point of
view of his peculiar mind-strength and weakness. Right and wrong?
He did not know about those. They were bound up in metaphysical abstrusities about which he did not care to bother. Good and
evil? Those were toys of clerics, by which they made money. And
as for social favor or social ostracism which, on occasion, so quickly
followed upon the heels of disaster of any kind, well, what was social ostracism? Had either he or his parents been of the best society
as yet? And since not, and despite this present mix-up, might not
the future hold social restoration and position for him? It might.
Morality and immorality? He never considered them. But strength
and weakness – oh, yes! If you had strength you could protect yourself always and be something. If you were weak – pass quickly to
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the rear and get out of the range of the guns. He was strong, and he
knew it, and somehow he always believed in his star. Something –
he could not say what – it was the only metaphysics he bothered
about – was doing something for him. It had always helped him.
It made things come out right at times. It put excellent opportunities in his way. Why had he been given so fi ne a mind? Why always
favored fi nancially, personally? He had not deserved it – earned
it. Accident, perhaps, but somehow the thought that he would always be protected – these intuitions, the »hunches» to act which he
frequently had – could not be so easily explained. Life was a dark,
insoluble mystery, but whatever it was, strength and weakness were
its two constituents. Strength would win – weakness lose. He must
rely on swiftness of thought, accuracy, his judgment, and on nothing else. He was really a brilliant picture of courage and energy –
moving about briskly in a jaunty, dapper way, his mustaches curled,
his clothes pressed, his nails manicured, his face clean-shaven and
tinted with health.
In the meantime, Cowperwood had gone personally to Skelton C. Wheat and tried to explain his side of the situation, alleging that he had done no differently from many others before him,
but Wheat was dubious. He did not see how it was that the sixty
thousand dollars’ worth of certifi cates were not in the sinkingfund. Cowperwood’s explanation of custom did not avail. Nevertheless, Mr. Wheat saw that others in politics had been profi ting
quite as much as Cowperwood in other ways and he advised Cowperwood to turn state’s evidence. This, however, he promptly refused to do – he was no «squealer», and indicated as much to Mr.
Wheat, who only smiled wryly.
Butler, Sr., was delighted (concerned though he was about party
success at the polls), for now he had this villain in the toils and he
would have a fi ne time getting out of this. The incoming district attorney to succeed David Pettie if the Republican party won would
be, as was now planned, an appointee of Butler’s – a young Irishman
who had done considerable legal work for him – one Dennis Shan-
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non. The other two party leaders had already promised Butler that.
Shannon was a smart, athletic, good-looking fellow, all of fi ve feet
ten inches in height, sandy-haired, pink-cheeked, blue-eyed, considerable of an orator and a fi ne legal fi ghter. He was very proud to
be in the old man’s favor – to be promised a place on the ticket by
him – and would, he said, if elected, do his bidding to the best of his
knowledge and ability.
There was only one fl y in the ointment, so far as some of
the politicians were concerned, and that was that if Cowperwood
were convicted, Stener must needs be also. There was no escape in
so far as any one could see for the city treasurer. If Cowperwood
was guilty of securing by trickery sixty thousand dollars’ worth of
the city money, Stener was guilty of securing fi ve hundred thousand dollars. The prison term for this was fi ve years. He might
plead not guilty, and by submitting as evidence that what he did
was due to custom save himself from the odious necessity of pleading guilty; but he would be convicted nevertheless. No jury could
get by the fact in regard to him. In spite of public opinion, when it
came to a trial there might be considerable doubt in Cowperwood’s
case. There was none in Stener’s.
The practical manner in which the situation was furthered, after Cowperwood and Stener were formally charged may be quickly
noted. Steger, Cowperwood’s lawyer, learned privately beforehand
that Cowperwood was to be prosecuted. He arranged at once to
have his client appear before any warrant could be served, and to
forestall the newspaper palaver which would follow it if he had to
be searched for.
The mayor issued a warrant for Cowperwood’s arrest, and, in
accordance with Steger’s plan, Cowperwood immediately appeared
before Borchardt in company with his lawyer and gave bail in
twenty thousand dollars (W. C. Davison, president of the Girard
National Bank, being his surety), for his appearance at the central police station on the following Saturday for a hearing. Marcus
Oldslaw, a lawyer, had been employed by Strobik as president of
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THEODORE DREISER
the common council, to represent him in prosecuting the case for
the city. The mayor looked at Cowperwood curiously, for he, being comparatively new to the political world of Philadelphia, was
not so familiar with him as others were; and Cowperwood returned
the look pleasantly enough.
«This is a great dumb show, Mr. Mayor», he observed once to
Borchardt, quietly, and the latter replied, with a smile and a kindly
eye, that as far as he was concerned, it was a form of procedure which
was absolutely unavoidable at this time.
«You know how it is, Mr. Cowperwood», he observed. The latter
smiled. «I do, indeed», he said.
Later there followed several more or less perfunctory appearances in a local police court, known as the Central Court, where
when arraigned he pleaded not guilty, and fi nally his appearance
before the November grand jury, where, owing to the complicated
nature of the charge drawn up against him by Pettie, he thought it
wise to appear. He was properly indicted by the latter body (Shannon, the newly elected district attorney, making a demonstration in
force), and his trial ordered for December 5th before a certain
Judge Payderson in Part I of Quarter Sessions, which was the local
branch of the State courts dealing with crimes of this character. His
indictment did not occur, however, before the coming and going of
the much-mooted fall election, which resulted, thanks to the clever
political manipulations of Mollenhauer and Simpson (ballot-box
stuffi ng and personal violence at the polls not barred), in another victory, by, however, a greatly reduced majority. The Citizens’
Municipal Reform Association, in spite of a resounding defeat at
the polls, which could not have happened except by fraud, continued to fi re courageously away at those whom it considered to be
the chief malefactors.
Aileen Butler, during all this time, was following the trend of
Cowperwood’s outward vicissitudes as heralded by the newspapers
and the local gossip with as much interest and bias and enthusiasm for him as her powerful physical and affectional nature would
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permit. She was no great reasoner where affection entered in, but
shrewd enough without it; and, although she saw him often and he
told her much – as much as his natural caution would permit –
she yet gathered from the newspapers and private conversation, at
her own family’s table and elsewhere, that, as bad as they said
he was, he was not as bad as he might be. One item only, clipped
from the Philadelphia Public Ledger soon after Cowperwood had
been publicly accused of embezzlement, comforted and consoled
her. She cut it out and carried it in her bosom; for, somehow, it
seemed to show that her adored Frank was far more sinned against
than sinning. It was a part of one of those very numerous pronunciamientos or reports issued by the Citizens’ Municipal Reform Association, and it ran:
«The aspects of the case are graver than have yet been allowed to
reach the public. Five hundred thousand dollars of the defi ciency
arises not from city bonds sold and not accounted for, but from
loans made by the treasurer to his broker. The committee is also
informed, on what it believes to be good authority, that the loans
sold by the broker were accounted for in the monthly settlements at
the lowest prices current during the month, and that the difference
between this rate and that actually realized was divided between
the treasurer and the broker, thus making it to the interest of both
parties to ‘bear’ the market at some time during the month, so as to
obtain a low quotation for settlement. Nevertheless, the committee can only regard the prosecution instituted against the broker,
Mr. Cowperwood, as an effort to divert public attention from more
guilty parties while those concerned may be able to ‘fi x’ matters to
suit themselves».
«There», thought Aileen, when she read it, «there you have it».
These politicians – her father among them as she gathered after his
conversation with her – were trying to put the blame of their own
evil deeds on her Frank. He was not nearly as bad as he was painted.
The report said so. She gloated over the words «an effort to divert
public attention from more guilty parties». That was just what her
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THEODORE DREISER
Frank had been telling her in those happy, private hours when they
had been together recently in one place and another, particularly
the new rendezvous in South Sixth Street which he had established,
since the old one had to be abandoned. He had stroked her rich hair,
caressed her body, and told her it was all a prearranged political
scheme to cast the blame as much as possible on him and make it as
light as possible for Stener and the party generally. He would come
out of it all right, he said, but he cautioned her not to talk. He did
not deny his long and profi table relations with Stener. He told her
exactly how it was. She understood, or thought she did. Anyhow, her
Frank was telling her, and that was enough.
As for the two Cowperwood households, so recently and pretentiously joined in success, now so gloomily tied in failure, the life was
going out of them. Frank Algernon was that life. He was the courage and force of his father: the spirit and opportunity of his brothers, the hope of his children, the estate of his wife, the dignity and
signifi cance of the Cowperwood name. All that meant opportunity,
force, emolument, dignity, and happiness to those connected with
him, he was. And his marvelous sun was waning apparently to
a black eclipse.
Since the fatal morning, for instance, when Lillian Cowperwood
had received that utterly destructive note, like a cannonball ripping through her domestic affairs, she had been walking like one in
a trance. Each day now for weeks she had been going about her duties placidly enough to all outward seeming, but inwardly she was
running with a troubled tide of thought. She was so utterly unhappy. Her fortieth year had come for her at a time when life ought
naturally to stand fi xed and fi rm on a solid base, and here she was
about to be torn bodily from the domestic soil in which she was
growing and blooming, and thrown out indifferently to wither in
the blistering noonday sun of circumstance.
As for Cowperwood, Senior, his situation at his bank and elsewhere was rapidly nearing a climax. As has been said, he had had
tremendous faith in his son; but he could not help seeing that an er-
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THE FINANCIER
ror had been committed, as he thought, and that Frank was suffering
greatly for it now. He considered, of course, that Frank had been entitled to try to save himself as he had; but he so regretted that his son
should have put his foot into the trap of any situation which could
stir up discussion of the sort that was now being aroused. Frank was
wonderfully brilliant. He need never have taken up with the city
treasurer or the politicians to have succeeded marvelously. Local
street-railways and speculative politicians were his undoing. The old
man walked the fl oor all of the days, realizing that his sun was setting, that with Frank’s failure he failed, and that this disgrace – these
public charges – meant his own undoing. His hair had grown very
gray in but a few weeks, his step slow, his face pallid, his eyes sunken. His rather showy side-whiskers seemed now like fl ags or ornaments of a better day that was gone. His only consolation through
it all was that Frank had actually got out of his relationship with
the Third National Bank without owing it a single dollar. Still as
he knew the directors of that institution could not possibly tolerate
the presence of a man whose son had helped loot the city treasury,
and whose name was now in the public prints in this connection.
Besides, Cowperwood, Sr., was too old. He ought to retire.
The crisis for him therefore came on the day when Frank was
arrested on the embezzlement charge. The old man, through Frank,
who had it from Steger, knew it was coming, still had the courage to
go to the bank but it was like struggling under the weight of a heavy
stone to do it. But before going, and after a sleepless night, he wrote
his resignation to Frewen Kasson, the chairman of the board of directors, in order that he should be prepared to hand it to him, at
once. Kasson, a stocky, well-built, magnetic man of fi fty, breathed
an inward sigh of relief at the sight of it.
«I know it’s hard, Mr. Cowperwood», he said, sympathetically.
«We – and I can speak for the other members of the board – we feel
keenly the unfortunate nature of your position. We know exactly
how it is that your son has become involved in this matter. He is not
the only banker who has been involved in the city’s affairs. By no
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THEODORE DREISER
means. It is an old system. We appreciate, all of us, keenly, the services you have rendered this institution during the past thirty-fi ve
years. If there were any possible way in which we could help to
tide you over the diffi culties at this time, we would be glad to do
so, but as a banker yourself you must realize just how impossible
that would be. Everything is in a turmoil. If things were settled – if
we knew how soon this would blow over –» He paused, for he felt
that he could not go on and say that he or the bank was sorry to be
forced to lose Mr. Cowperwood in this way at present. Mr. Cowperwood himself would have to speak.
During all this Cowperwood, Sr., had been doing his best to pull
himself together in order to be able to speak at all. He had gotten
out a large white linen handkerchief and blown his nose, and had
straightened himself in his chair, and laid his hands rather peacefully on his desk. Still he was intensely wrought up.
«I can’t stand this!» he suddenly exclaimed. «I wish you would
leave me alone now».
Kasson, very carefully dressed and manicured, arose and walked
out of the room for a few moments. He appreciated keenly the intensity of the strain he had just witnessed. The moment the door
was closed Cowperwood put his head in his hands and shook convulsively. «I never thought I’d come to this», he muttered. «I never
thought it». Then he wiped away his salty hot tears, and went to
the window to look out and to think of what else to do from now on.
CHAPTER XXXV
As time went on Butler grew more and more puzzled and restive
as to his duty in regard to his daughter. He was sure by her furtive
manner and her apparent desire to avoid him, that she was still in
touch with Cow perwood in some way, and that this would bring
about a social disaster of some kind. He thought once of going to
Mrs. Cowperwood and having her bring pressure to bear on her
husband, but afterwards he decided that that would not do. He was
not really positive as yet that Aileen was secretly meeting Cowperwood, and, besides, Mrs. Cowperwood might not know of her husband’s duplicity. He thought also of going to Cowperwood personally and threatening him, but that would be a severe measure, and
again, as in the other case, he lacked proof. He hesitated to appeal to
a detective agency, and he did not care to take the other members of
the family into his confi dence. He did go out and scan the neighborhood of 931 North Tenth Street once, looking at the house; but
that helped him little. The place was for rent, Cowperwood having
already abandoned his connection with it.
Finally he hit upon the plan of having Aileen invited to go
somewhere some distance off – Boston or New Orleans, where
a sister of his wife lived. It was a delicate matter to engineer, and in
such matters he was not exactly the soul of tact; but he undertook
it. He wrote personally to his wife’s sister at New Orleans, and asked
her if she would, without indicating in any way that she had heard
from him, write his wife and ask if she would not permit Aileen to
come and visit her, writing Aileen an invitation at the same time;
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THEODORE DREISER
but he tore the letter up. A little later he learned accidentally that
Mrs. Mollenhauer and her three daughters, Caroline, Felicia, and
Alta, were going to Europe early in December to visit Paris, the Riviera, and Rome; and he decided to ask Mollenhauer to persuade his
wife to invite Norah and Aileen, or Aileen only, to go along, giving as an excuse that his own wife would not leave him, and that
the girls ought to go. It would be a fi ne way of disposing of Aileen
for the present. The party was to be gone six months. Mollenhauer
was glad to do so, of course. The two families were fairly intimate.
Mrs. Mollenhauer was willing – delighted from a politic point of
view – and the invitation was extended. Norah was overjoyed.
She wanted to see something of Europe, and had always been hoping for some such opportunity. Aileen was pleased from the point of
view that Mrs. Mollenhauer should invite her. Years before she
would have accepted in a fl ash. But now she felt that it only came
as a puzzling interruption, one more of the minor diffi culties that
were tending to interrupt her relations with Cowperwood. She immediately threw cold water on the proposition, which was made one
evening at dinner by Mrs. Butler, who did not know of her husband’s share in the matter, but had received a call that afternoon
from Mrs. Mollenhauer, when the invitation had been extended.
«She’s very anxious to have you two come along, if your father
don’t mind», volunteered the mother, «and I should think ye’d have
a fi ne time. They’re going to Paris and the Riveera».
«Oh, fi ne!» exclaimed Norah. «I’ve always wanted to go to Paris.
Haven’t you, Ai? Oh, wouldn’t that be fi ne?»
«I don’t know that I want to go», replied Aileen. She did not
care to compromise herself by showing any interest at the start. «It’s
coming on winter, and I haven’t any clothes. I’d rather wait and go
some other time».
«Oh, Aileen Butler!» exclaimed Norah. «How you talk! I’ve
heard you say a dozen times you’d like to go abroad some winter.
Now when the chance comes – besides you can get your clothes
made over there».
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