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THE FINANCIER
«Couldn’t you get somethin’ over there?» inquired Mrs. Butler.
«Besides, you’ve got two or three weeks here yet».
«They wouldn’t want a man around as a sort of guide and adviser, would they, mother?» put in Callum.
«I might offer my services in that capacity myself», observed
Owen, reservedly.
«I’m sure I don’t know», returned Mrs. Butler, smiling, and at
the same time chewing a lusty mouthful. «You’ll have to ast ‘em,
my sons».
Aileen still persisted. She did not want to go. It was too sudden.
It was this. It was that. Just then old Butler came in and took his
seat at the head of the table. Knowing all about it, he was most anxious to appear not to.
«You wouldn’t object, Edward, would you?» queried his wife, explaining the proposition in general.
«Object!» he echoed, with a well simulated but rough attempt at
gayety. «A fi ne thing I’d be doing for meself – objectin’. I’d be glad if
I could get shut of the whole pack of ye for a time».
«What talk ye have!» said his wife. «A fi ne mess you’d make of it
livin’ alone».
«I’d not be alone, belave me», replied Butler. «There’s many
a place I’d be welcome in this town – no thanks to ye».
«And there’s many a place ye wouldn’t have been if it hadn’t
been for me. I’m tellin’ ye that», retorted Mrs. Butler, genially.
«And that’s not stretchin’ the troot much, aither», he answered, fondly.
Aileen was adamant. No amount of argument both on the part of
Norah and her mother had any effect whatever. Butler witnessed
the failure of his plan with considerable dissatisfaction, but he was
not through. When he was fi nally convinced that there was no
hope of persuading her to accept the Mollenhauer proposition, he
decided, after a while, to employ a detective.
At that time, the reputation of William A. Pinkerton, of detective fame, and of his agency was great. The man had come up from
311
THEODORE DREISER
poverty through a series of vicissitudes to a high standing in his peculiar and, to many, distasteful profession; but to any one in need of
such in themselves calamitous services, his very famous and decidedly patriotic connection with the Civil War and Abraham Lincoln was a recommendation. He, or rather his service, had guarded
the latter all his stormy incumbency at the executive mansion. There
were offi ces for the management of the company’s business in Philadelphia, Washington, and New York, to say nothing of other places.
Butler was familiar with the Philadelphia sign, but did not care to
go to the offi ce there. He decided, once his mind was made up on
this score, that he would go over to New York, where he was told
the principal offi ces were.
He made the simple excuse one day of business, which was common enough in his case, and journeyed to New York – nearly fi ve
hours away as the trains ran then – arriving at two o’clock. At the offi ces on lower Broadway, he asked to see the manager, whom he
found to be a large, gross-featured, heavy-bodied man of fi fty, grayeyed, gray-haired, puffi ly outlined as to countenance, but keen and
shrewd, and with short, fat-fi ngered hands, which drummed idly on
his desk as he talked. He was dressed in a suit of dark-brown wool
cloth, which struck Butler as peculiarly showy, and wore a large
horseshoe diamond pin. The old man himself invariably wore conservative gray.
«How do you do?» said Butler, when a boy ushered him into
the presence of this worthy, whose name was Martinson – Gilbert
Martinson, of American and Irish extraction. The latter nodded and
looked at Butler shrewdly, recognizing him at once as a man of force
and probably of position. He therefore rose and offered him a chair.
«Sit down», he said, studying the old Irishman from under thick,
bushy eyebrows. «What can I do for you?»
«You’re the manager, are you?» asked Butler, solemnly, eyeing
the man with a shrewd, inquiring eye.
«Yes, sir», replied Martinson, simply. «That’s my position here».
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THE FINANCIER
«This Mr. Pinkerton that runs this agency – he wouldn’t be
about this place, now, would he?» asked Butler, carefully. «I’d like to
talk to him personally, if I might, meaning no offense to you».
«Mr. Pinkerton is in Chicago at present», replied Mr. Martinson.
«I don’t expect him back for a week or ten days. You can talk to me,
though, with the same confi dence that you could to him. I’m the responsible head here. However, you’re the best judge of that».
Butler debated with himself in silence for a few moments, estimating the man before him. «Are you a family man yourself?» he
asked, oddly.
«Yes, sir, I’m married», replied Martinson, solemnly. «I have
a wife and two children».
Martinson, from long experience conceived that this must be
a matter of family misconduct – a son, daughter, wife. Such cases
were not infrequent.
«I thought I would like to talk to Mr. Pinkerton himself, but if
you’re the responsible head –» Butler paused.
«I am», replied Martinson. «You can talk to me with the same
freedom that you could to Mr. Pinkerton. Won’t you come into my
private offi ce? We can talk more at ease in there».
He led the way into an adjoining room which had two windows looking down into Broadway; an oblong table, heavy, brown,
smoothly polished; four leather-backed chairs; and some pictures of
the Civil War battles in which the North had been victorious. Butler followed doubtfully. He hated very much to take any one into
his confi dence in regard to Aileen. He was not sure that he would,
even now. He wanted to «look these fellys over», as he said in his
mind. He would decide then what he wanted to do. He went to
one of the windows and looked down into the street, where there
was a perfect swirl of omnibuses and vehicles of all sorts. Mr. Martinson quietly closed the door.
«Now then, if there’s anything I can do for you», Mr. Martinson
paused. He thought by this little trick to elicit Buder’s real name – it
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THEODORE DREISER
often «worked» – but in this instance the name was not forthcoming. Butler was too shrewd.
«I’m not so sure that I want to go into this», said the old man
solemnly. «Certainly not if there’s any risk of the thing not being handled in the right way. There’s somethin’ I want to fi nd out
about – somethin’ that I ought to know; but it’s a very private matter with me, and –» He paused to think and conjecture, looking at
Mr. Martinson the while. The latter understood his peculiar state of
mind. He had seen many such cases.
«Let me say right here, to begin with, Mr. –»
«Scanlon», interpolated Butler, easily; «that’s as good a name
as any if you want to use one. I’m keepin’ me own to meself for
the present».
«Scanlon», continued Martinson, easily. «I really don’t care
whether it’s your right name or not. I was just going to say that it
might not be necessary to have your right name under any circumstances – it all depends upon what you want to know. But, so far as
your private affairs are concerned, they are as safe with us, as if you
had never told them to any one. Our business is built upon confi dence, and we never betray it. We wouldn’t dare. We have men and
women who have been in our employ for over thirty years, and we
never retire any one except for cause, and we don’t pick people who
are likely to need to be retired for cause. Mr. Pinkerton is a good
judge of men. There are others here who consider that they are.
We handle over ten thousand separate cases in all parts of the United States every year. We work on a case only so long as we are
wanted. We try to fi nd out only such things as our customers want.
We do not pry unnecessarily into anybody’s affairs. If we decide that
we cannot fi nd out what you want to know, we are the fi rst to say
so. Many cases are rejected right here in this offi ce before we ever
begin. Yours might be such a one. We don’t want cases merely for
the sake of having them, and we are frank to say so. Some matters
that involve public policy, or some form of small persecution, we
don’t touch at all – we won’t be a party to them. You can see how
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THE FINANCIER
that is. You look to me to be a man of the world. I hope I am one.
Does it strike you that an organization like ours would be likely to
betray any one’s confi dence?» He paused and looked at Butler for
confi rmation of what he had just said.
«It wouldn’t seem likely», said the latter; «that’s the truth. It’s
not aisy to bring your private affairs into the light of day, though»,
added the old man, sadly.
They both rested.
«Well», said Butler, fi nally, «you look to me to be all right,
and I’d like some advice. Mind ye, I’m willing to pay for it well
enough; and it isn’t anything that’ll be very hard to fi nd out.
I want to know whether a certain man where I live is goin’ with
a certain woman, and where. You could fi nd that out aisy enough,
I belave – couldn’t you?»
«Nothing easier», replied Martinson. «We are doing it all
the time. Let me see if I can help you just a moment, Mr. Scanlon, in
order to make it easier for you. It is very plain to me that you don’t
care to tell any more than you can help, and we don’t care to have
you tell any more than we absolutely need. We will have to have
the name of the city, of course, and the name of either the man or
the woman; but not necessarily both of them, unless you want to
help us in that way. Sometimes if you give us the name of one party – say the man, for illustration – and the description of the woman – an accurate one – or a photograph, we can tell you after a little
while exactly what you want to know. Of course, it’s always better
if we have full information. You suit yourself about that. Tell me as
much or as little as you please, and I’ll guarantee that we will do our
best to serve you, and that you will be satisfi ed afterward».
He smiled genially.
«Well, that bein’ the case», said Butler, fi nally taking the leap,
with many mental reservations, however, «I’ll be plain with you.
My name’s not Scanlon. It’s Butler. I live in Philadelphy. There’s
a man there, a banker by the name of Cowperwood – Frank A.
Cowperwood –»
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THEODORE DREISER
«Wait a moment», said Martinson, drawing an ample pad out of
his pocket and producing a lead-pencil; «I want to get that. How do
you spell it?»
Butler told him.
«Yes; now go on».
«He has a place in Third Street – Frank A. Cowperwood – any
one can show you where it is. He’s just failed there recently».
«Oh, that’s the man», interpolated Martinson. «I’ve heard of him.
He’s mixed up in some city embezzlement case over there. I suppose
the reason you didn’t go to our Philadelphia offi ce is because you
didn’t want our local men over there to know anything about it.
Isn’t that it?»
«That’s the man, and that’s the reason», said Butler. «I don’t
care to have anything of this known in Philadelphy. That’s why I’m
here. This man has a house on Girard Avenue – Nineteen-thirtyseven. You can fi nd that out, too, when you get over there».
«Yes», agreed Mr. Martinson.
«Well, it’s him that I want to know about – him – and a certain woman, or girl, rather». The old man paused and winced at
this necessity of introducing Aileen into the case. He could scarcely
think of it – he was so fond of her. He had been so proud of Aileen.
A dark, smoldering rage burned in his heart against Cowperwood.
«A relative of yours – possibly, I suppose», remarked Martinson,
tactfully. «You needn’t tell me any more – just give me a description
if you wish. We may be able to work from that». He saw quite clearly
what a fi ne old citizen in his way he was dealing with here, and also
that the man was greatly troubled. Butler’s heavy, meditative face
showed it. «You can be quite frank with me, Mr. Butler», he added;
«I think I understand. We only want such information as we must
have to help you, nothing more».
«Yes», said the old man, dourly. «She is a relative. She’s me
daughter, in fact. You look to me like a sensible, honest man. I’m
her father, and I wouldn’t do anything for the world to harm her.
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THE FINANCIER
It’s tryin’ to save her I am. It’s him I want». He suddenly closed one
big fi st forcefully.
Martinson, who had two daughters of his own, observed the suggestive movement.
«I understand how you feel, Mr. Butler», he observed. «I am a father myself. We’ll do all we can for you. If you can give me an accurate description of her, or let one of my men see her at your house or
offi ce, accidentally, of course, I think we can tell you in no time at all
if they are meeting with any regularity. That’s all you want to know,
is it – just that?»
«That’s all», said Butler, solemnly.
«Well, that oughtn’t to take any time at all, Mr. Butler – three or
four days possibly, if we have any luck – a week, ten days, two weeks.
It depends on how long you want us to shadow him in case there is
no evidence the fi rst few days».
«I want to know, however long it takes», replied Butler, bitterly. «I want to know, if it takes a month or two months or three to
fi nd out. I want to know». The old man got up as he said this, very
positive, very rugged. «And don’t send me men that haven’t sinse –
lots of it, plase. I want men that are fathers, if you’ve got ‘em – and
that have sinse enough to hold their tongues – not b’ys».
«I understand, Mr. Butler», Martinson replied. «Depend on it,
you’ll have the best we have, and you can trust them. They’ll be
discreet. You can depend on that. The way I’ll do will be to assign
just one man to the case at fi rst, some one you can see for yourself
whether you like or not. I’ll not tell him anything. You can talk to
him. If you like him, tell him, and he’ll do the rest. Then, if he needs
any more help, he can get it. What is your address?»
Butler gave it to him.
«And there’ll be no talk about this?»
«None whatever – I assure you».
«And when’ll he be comin’ along?»
«To-morrow, if you wish. I have a man I could send to-night.
He isn’t here now or I’d have him talk with you. I’ll talk to him,
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THEODORE DREISER
though, and make everything clear. You needn’t worry about anything. Your daughter’s reputation will be safe in his hands».
«Thank you kindly», commented Butler, softening the least
bit in a gingerly way. «I’m much obliged to you. I’ll take it as a great
favor, and pay you well».
«Never mind about that, Mr. Butler», replied Martinson.
«You’re welcome to anything this concern can do for you at its
ordinary rates».
He showed Butler to the door, and the old man went out. He was
feeling very depressed over this – very shabby. To think he should
have to put detectives on the track of his Aileen, his daughter!
CHAPTER XXXVI
The very next day there called at Butler’s offi ce a long, preternaturally solemn man of noticeable height and angularity, dark-haired,
dark-eyed, sallow, with a face that was long and leathery, and particularly hawk-like, who talked with Butler for over an hour and then
departed. That evening he came to the Butler house around dinnertime, and, being shown into Butler’s room, was given a look at Aileen by a ruse. Butler sent for her, standing in the doorway just far
enough to one side to yield a good view of her. The detective stood
behind one of the heavy curtains which had already been put up for
the winter, pretending to look out into the street.
«Did any one drive Sissy this mornin’?» asked Butler of Aileen,
inquiring after a favorite family horse. Butler’s plan, in case the detective was seen, was to give the impression that he was a horseman
who had come either to buy or to sell. His name was Jonas Alderson,
and be looked suffi ciently like a horsetrader to be one.
«I don’t think so, father», replied Aileen. «I didn’t. I’ll fi nd out».
«Never mind. What I want to know is did you intend using her
to-morrow?»
«No, not if you want her. Jerry suits me just as well».
«Very well, then. Leave her in the stable». Butler quietly closed
the door. Aileen concluded at once that it was a horse conference.
She knew he would not dispose of any horse in which she was interested without fi rst consulting her, and so she thought no more about it.
After she was gone Alderson stepped out and declared that he
was satisfi ed. «That’s all I need to know», he said. «I’ll let you know in
a few days if I fi nd out anything».
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THEODORE DREISER
He departed, and within thirty-six hours the house and offi ce of Cowperwood, the house of Butler, the offi ce of Harper Steger,
Cowperwood’s lawyer, and Cowperwood and Aileen separately and
personally were under complete surveillance. It took six men to do
it at fi rst, and eventually a seventh, when the second meeting-place,
which was located in South Sixth Street, was discovered. All the detectives were from New York. In a week all was known to Alderson.
It bad been agreed between him and Butler that if Aileen and Cowperwood were discovered to have any particular rendezvous Butler
was to be notifi ed some time when she was there, so that he might
go immediately and confront her in person, if he wished. He did
not intend to kill Cowperwood – and Alderson would have seen to
it that he did not in his presence at least, but he would give him
a good tongue-lashing, fell him to the fl oor, in all likelihood, and
march Aileen away. There would be no more lying on her part as to
whether she was or was not going with Cowperwood. She would not
be able to say after that what she would or would not do. Butler
would lay down the law to her. She would reform, or he would send
her to a reformatory. Think of her infl uence on her sister, or on any
good girl – knowing what she knew, or doing what she was doing!
She would go to Europe after this, or any place he chose to send her.
In working out his plan of action it was necessary for Butler to
take Alderson into his confi dence and the detective made plain his
determination to safeguard Cowperwood’s person.
«We couldn’t allow you to strike any blows or do any violence»,
Alderson told Butler, when they fi rst talked about it. «It’s against
the rules. You can go in there on a search-warrant, if we have to
have one. I can get that for you without anybody’s knowing anything about your connection with the case. We can say it’s for
a girl from New York. But you’ll have to go in in the presence of
my men. They won’t permit any trouble. You can get your daughter all right – we’ll bring her away, and him, too, if you say so; but
you’ll have to make some charge against him, if we do. Then there’s
the danger of the neighbors seeing. You can’t always guarantee you
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