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THE FINANCIER
They talked much more – of his family, his court appearance
Monday, whether he would get out soon to attend any of the suits
still pending, or be pardoned. Aileen still believed in his future.
She had read the opinions of the dissenting judges in his favor,
and that of the three agreed judges against him. She was sure his
day was not over in Philadelphia, and that he would some time
reestablish himself and then take her with him somewhere else.
She was sorry for Mrs. Cowperwood, but she was convinced that
she was not suited to him – that Frank needed some one more like
herself, some one with youth and beauty and force – her, no less.
She clung to him now in ecstatic embraces until it was time to go. So
far as a plan of procedure could have been adjusted in a situation so
incapable of accurate adjustment, it had been done. She was desperately downcast at the last moment, as was he, over their parting; but
she pulled herself together with her usual force and faced the dark
future with a steady eye.
CHAPTER LI
Monday came and with it his fi nal departure. All that could
be done had been done. Cowperwood said his farewells to his
mother and father, his brothers and sister. He had a rather distant but sensible and matter-of-fact talk with his wife. He made no
special point of saying good-by to his son or his daughter; when
he came in on Thursday, Friday, Saturday, and Sunday evenings,
after he had learned that he was to depart Monday, it was with
the thought of talking to them a little in an especially affectionate way. He realized that his general moral or unmoral attitude
was perhaps working them a temporary injustice. Still he was not
sure. Most people did fairly well with their lives, whether coddled
or deprived of opportunity. These children would probably do as
well as mos t children, whatever happened – and then, anyhow, he
had no intention of forsaking them fi nancially, if he could help it.
He did not want to separate his wife from her children, nor them
from her. She should keep them. He wanted them to be comfortable with her. He would like to see them, wherever they were with
her, occasionally. Only he wanted his own personal freedom, in
so far as she and they were concerned, to go off and set up a new
world and a new home with Aileen. So now on these last days, and
particularly this last Sunday night, he was rather noticeably considerate of his boy and girl, without being too openly indicative of
his approaching separation from them.
«Frank», he said to his notably lackadaisical son on this occasion, «aren’t you going to straighten up and be a big, strong, healthy
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THE FINANCIER
fellow? You don’t play enough. You ought to get in with a gang of
boys and be a leader. Why don’t you fi t yourself up a gymnasium
somewhere and see how strong you can get?»
They were in the senior Cowperwood’s sitting-room, where they
had all rather consciously gathered on this occasion.
Lillian, second, who was on the other side of the big library
table from her father, paused to survey him and her brother with
interest. Both had been carefully guarded against any real knowledge of their father’s affairs or his present predicament. He was going away on a journey for about a month or so they understood.
Lillian was reading in a Chatterbox book which had been given her
the previous Christmas.
«He won’t do anything», she volunteered, looking up from her
reading in a peculiarly critical way for her. «Why, he won’t ever run
races with me when I want him to».
«Aw, who wants to run races with you, anyhow?» returned Frank,
junior, sourly. «You couldn’t run if I did want to run with you».
«Couldn’t I?» she replied. «I could beat you, all right».
«Lillian!» pleaded her mother, with a warning sound in
her voice.
Cowperwood smiled, and laid his hand affectionately on his
son’s head. «You’ll be all right, Frank», he volunteered, pinching his
ear lightly. «Don’t worry – just make an effort».
The boy did not respond as warmly as he hoped. Later in the evening Mrs. Cowperwood noticed that her husband squeezed his
daughter’s slim little waist and pulled her curly hair gently. For
the moment she was jealous of her daughter.
«Going to be the best kind of a girl while I’m away?» he said to
her, privately.
«Yes, papa», she replied, brightly.
«That’s right», he returned, and leaned over and kissed her
mouth tenderly. «Button Eyes», he said.
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THEODORE DREISER
Mrs. Cowperwood sighed after he had gone. «Everything for
the children, nothing for me», she thought, though the children had
not got so vastly much either in the past.
Cowperwood’s attitude toward his mother in this fi nal hour was
about as tender and sympathetic as any he could maintain in this
world. He understood quite clearly the ramifi cations of her interests, and how she was suffering for him and all the others concerned.
He had not forgotten her sympathetic care of him in his youth; and
if he could have done anything to have spared her this unhappy
breakdown of her fortunes in her old age, he would have done so.
There was no use crying over spilled milk. It was impossible at times
for him not to feel intensely in moments of success or failure; but
the proper thing to do was to bear up, not to show it, to talk little
and go your way with an air not so much of resignation as of selfsuffi ciency, to whatever was awaiting you. That was his attitude on
this morning, and that was what he expected from those around
him – almost compelled, in fact, by his own attitude.
«Well, mother», he said, genially, at the last moment – he would
not let her nor his wife nor his sister come to court, maintaining
that it would make not the least difference to him and would only
harrow their own feelings uselessly –»I’m going now. Don’t worry.
Keep up your spirits».
He slipped his arm around his mother’s waist, and she gave him
a long, unrestrained, despairing embrace and kiss.
«Go on, Frank», she said, choking, when she let him go. «God
bless you. I’ll pray for you». He paid no further attention to her.
He didn’t dare.
«Good-by, Lillian», he said to his wife, pleasantly, kindly. «I’ll be
back in a few days, I think. I’ll be coming out to attend some of these
court proceedings».
To his sister he said: «Good-by, Anna. Don’t let the others get too
down-hearted».
«I’ll see you three afterward», he said to his father and brothers;
and so, dressed in the very best fashion of the time, he hurried down
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THE FINANCIER
into the reception-hall, where Steger was waiting, and was off. His
family, hearing the door close on him, suffered a poignant sense of
desolation. They stood there for a moment, his mother crying, his father looking as though he had lost his last friend but making a great
effort to seem self-contained and equal to his troubles, Anna telling
Lillian not to mind, and the latter staring dumbly into the future,
not knowing what to think. Surely a brilliant sun had set on their
local scene, and in a very pathetic way.
CHAPTER LII
When Cowperwood reached the jail, Jaspers was there, glad to see
him but principally relieved to feel that nothing had happened to
mar his own reputation as a sheriff. Because of the urgency of court
matters generally, it was decided to depart for the courtroom at nine
o’clock. Eddie Zanders was once more delegated to see that Cowperwood was brought safely before Judge Payderson and afterward
taken to the penitentiary. All of the papers in the case were put in
his care to be delivered to the warden.
«I suppose you know», confi ded Sheriff Jaspers to Steger, «that
Stener is here. He ain’t got no money now, but I gave him a private
room just the same. I didn’t want to put a man like him in no cell».
Sheriff Jaspers sympathized with Stener.
«That’s right. I’m glad to hear that», replied Steger, smili ng to
himself.
«I didn’t suppose from what I’ve heard that Mr. Cowperwood
would want to meet Stener here, so I’ve kept ‘em apart. George just
left a minute ago with another deputy».
«That’s good. That’s the way it ought to be», replied Steger.
He was glad for Cowperwood’s sake that the sheriff had so much
tact. Evidently George and the sheriff were getting along in a very
friendly way, for all the former’s bitter troubles and lack of means.
The Cowperwood party walked, the distance not being great,
and as they did so they talked of rather simple things to avoid
the more serious.
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THE FINANCIER
«Things aren’t going to be so bad», Edward said to his father.
«Steger says the Governor is sure to pardon Stener in a year or less,
and if he does he’s bound to let Frank out too».
Cowperwood, the elder, had heard this over and over, but he
was never tired of hearing it. It was like some simple croon with
which babies are hushed to sleep. The snow on the ground, which
was enduring remarkably well for this time of year, the fi neness of
the day, which had started out to be clear and bright, the hope that
the courtroom might not be full, all held the attention of the father and his two sons. Cowperwood, senior, even commented on
some sparrows fi ghting over a piece of bread, marveling how well
they did in winter, solely to ease his mind. Cowperwood, walking on
ahead with Steger and Zanders, talked of approaching court proceedings in connection with his business and what ought to be done.
When they reached the court the same little pen in which Cowperwood had awaited the verdict of his jury several months before
was waiting to receive him.
Cowperwood, senior, and his other sons sought places in
the courtroom proper. Eddie Zanders remained with his charge.
Stener and a deputy by the name of Wilkerson were in the room; but
he and Cowperwood pretended now not to see each other. Frank
had no objection to talking to his former associate, but he could
see that Stener was diffi dent and ashamed. So he let the situation
pass without look or word of any kind. After some three-quarters of
an hour of dreary waiting the door leading into the courtroom proper opened and a bailiff stepped in.
«All prisoners up for sentence», he called.
There were six, all told, including Cowperwood and Stener.
Two of them were confederate housebreakers who had been caught
red-handed at their midnight task.
Another prisoner was no more and no less than a plain horsethief, a young man of twenty-six, who had been convicted by
a jury of stealing a grocer’s horse and selling it. The last man was
a negro, a tall, shambling, illiterate, nebulous-minded black, who
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THEODORE DREISER
had walked off with an apparently discarded section of lead pipe
which he had found in a lumber-yard. His idea was to sell or trade it
for a drink. He really did not belong in this court at all; but, having
been caught by an undersized American watchman charged with
the care of the property, and having at fi rst refused to plead guilty,
not quite understanding what was to be done with him, he had been
perforce bound over to this court for trial. Afterward he had changed
his mind and admitted his guilt, so he now had to come before Judge
Payderson for sentence or dismissal. The lower court before which
he had originally been brought had lost jurisdiction by binding him
over to to higher court for trial. Eddie Zanders, in his self-appointed
position as guide and mentor to Cowperwood, had confi ded nearly
all of this data to him as he stood waiting.
The courtroom was crowded. It was very humiliating to Cowperwood to have to fi le in this way along the side aisle with these others,
followed by Stener, well dressed but sickly looking and disconsolate.
The negro, Charles Ackerman, was the fi rst on the list.
«How is it this man comes before me?» asked Payderson, peevishly, when he noted the value of the property Ackerman was supposed to have stolen.
«Your honor», the assistant district attorney explained, promptly, «this man was before a lower court and refused, because he was
drunk, or something, to plead guilty. The lower court, because
the complainant would not forego the charge, was compelled to
bind him over to this court for trial. Since then he has changed his
mind and has admitted his guilt to the district attorney. He would
not be brought before you except we have no alternative. He has to
be brought here now in order to clear the calendar».
Judge Payderson stared quizzically at the negro, who, obviously
not very much disturbed by this examination, was leaning comfortably on the gate or bar before which the average criminal stood erect
and terrifi ed. He had been before police-court magistrates before on
one charge and another – drunkenness, disorderly conduct, and
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THE FINANCIER
the like – but his whole attitude was one of shambling, lackadaisical, amusing innocence.
«Well, Ackerman», inquired his honor, severely, «did you or did
you not steal this piece of lead pipe as charged here – four dollars
and eighty cents’ worth?»
«Yassah, I did», he began. «I tell you how it was, jedge. I was acomin’ along past dat lumber-yard one Saturday afternoon, and
I hadn’t been wuckin’, an’ I saw dat piece o’ pipe thoo de fence, lyin’
inside, and I jes’ reached thoo with a piece o’ boad I found dey and
pulled it over to me an’ tuck it. An’ aftahwahd dis Mistah Watchman
man» – he waved his hand oratorically toward the witness-chair,
where, in case the judge might wish to ask him some questions,
the complainant had taken his stand –»come around tuh where
I live an’ accused me of done takin’ it».
«But you did take it, didn’t you?»
«Yassah, I done tuck it».
«What did you do with it?»
«I traded it foh twenty-fi ve cents».
«You mean you sold it», corrected his honor.
«Yassah, I done sold it».
«Well, don’t you know it’s wrong to do anything like that?
Didn’t you know when you reached through that fence and pulled
that pipe over to you that you were stealing? Didn’t you?»
«Yassah, I knowed it was wrong», replied Ackerman, sheepishly.
«I didn’ think ‘twuz stealin’ like zackly, but I done knowed it was
wrong. I done knowed I oughtn’ take it, I guess».
«Of course you did. Of course you did. That’s just it. You knew
you were stealing, and still you took it. Has the man to whom this
negro sold the lead pipe been apprehended yet?» the judge inquired
sharply of the district attorney. «He should be, for he’s more guilty
than this negro, a receiver of stolen goods».
«Yes, sir», replied the assistant. «His case is before Judge
Yawger».
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THEODORE DREISER
«Quite right. It should be», replied Payderson, severely. «This
matter of receiving stolen property is one of the worst offenses, in
my judgment».
He then turned his attention to Ackerman again. «Now, look
here, Ackerman», he exclaimed, irritated at having to bother with
such a pretty case, «I want to say something to you, and I want
you to pay strict attention to me. Straighten up, there! Don’t lean on
that gate! You are in the presence of the law now». Ackerman had
sprawled himself comfortably down on his elbows as he would have
if he had been leaning over a back-fence gate talking to some one,
but he immediately drew himself straight, still grinning foolishly
and apologetically, when he heard this. «You are not so dull but
that you can understand what I am going to say to you. The offense
you have committed – stealing a piece of lead pipe – is a crime.
Do you hear me? A criminal offense – one that I could punish you
very severely for. I could send you to the penitentiary for one year
if I chose – the law says I may – one year at hard labor for stealing
a piece of lead pipe. Now, if you have any sense you will pay strict attention to what I am going to tell you. I am not going to send you to
the penitentiary right now. I’m going to wait a little while. I am going to sentence you to one year in the penitentiary – one year. Do
you understand?» Ackerman blanched a little and licked his lips
nervously. «And then I am going to suspend that sentence – hold it
over your head, so that if you are ever caught taking anything else
you will be punished for this offense and the next one also at one
and the same time. Do you understand that? Do you know what
I mean? Tell me. Do you?»
«Yessah! I does, sir», replied the negro. «You’se gwine to let me
go now – tha’s it».
The audience grinned, and his honor made a wry face to prevent
his own grim grin.
«I’m going to let you go only so long as you don’t steal anything
else», he thundered. «The moment you steal anything else, back you
come to this court, and then you go to the penitentiary for a year and
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