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THE TITAN
a pity! It was Gardner Knowles who had done this, she admitted. But
he was not very much to blame, either. It just happened. She had
tried to protest, but — Wasn’t she angry? Yes, but then she was sorry
to do anything to hurt Gardner Knowles. He was such a charming
boy, and he had such a lovely mother and sister, and the like.
Cowperwood was astonished. He had reached that point in life
where the absence of primal innocence in a woman was not very signifi cant; but in Stephanie, seeing that she was so utterly charming,
it was almost too bad. He thought what fools the Platows must be to
tolerate this art atmosphere for Stephanie without keeping a sharp
watch over it. Nevertheless, he was inclined to believe from observation thus far that Stephanie might be hard to watch. She was ingrainedly irresponsible, apparently — so artistically nebulous, so nonself-protective. To go on and be friends with this scamp! And yet she
protested that never after that had there been the least thing between
them. Cowperwood could scarcely believe it. She must be lying, and
yet he liked her so. The very romantic, inconsequential way in which
she narrated all this staggered, amused, and even fascinated him.
«But, Stephanie», he argued, curiously, «there must been some
aftermath to all this. What happened? What did you do?»
«Nothing». She shook her head.
He had to smile.
«But oh, don’t let’s talk about it!» she pleaded. «I don’t want to.
It hurts me. There was nothing more».
She sighed, and Cowperwood meditated. The evil was now done,
and the best that he could do, if he cared for her at all — and he
did — was to overlook it. He surveyed her oddly, wonderingly. What
a charming soul she was, anyhow! How naive — how brooding!
She had art — lots of it. Did he want to give her up?
As he might have known, it was dangerous to trifl e with a type of
this kind, particularly once awakened to the signifi cance of promiscuity, and unless mastered by some absorbing passion. Stephanie
had had too much fl attery and affection heaped upon her in the past
two years to be easily absorbed. Nevertheless, for the time being,
221
THEODORE DREISER
anyhow, she was fascinated by the signifi cance of Cowperwood.
It was wonderful to have so fi ne, so powerful a man care for her.
She conceived of him as a very great artist in his realm rather than as
a business man, and he grasped this fact after a very little while and
appreciated it. To his delight, she was even more beautiful physically than he had anticipated — a smoldering, passionate girl who
met him with a fi re which, though somber, quite rivaled his own.
She was different, too, in her languorous acceptance of all that he
bestowed from any one he had ever known. She was as tactful as Rita
Sohlberg — more so — but so preternaturally silent at times.
«Stephanie», he would exclaim, «do talk. What are you thinking
of? You dream like an African native».
She merely sat and smiled in a dark way or sketched or modeled him. She was constantly penciling something, until moved by
the fever of her blood, when she would sit and look at him or brood
silently, eyes down. Then, when he would reach for her with seeking
hands, she would sigh, «Oh yes, oh yes!»
Those were delightful days with Stephanie.
In the matter of young MacDonald’s request for fi fty thousand
dollars in securities, as well as the attitude of the other editors —
Hyssop, Braxton, Ricketts, and so on — who had proved subtly critical, Cowperwood conferred with Addison and McKenty.
«A likely lad, that», commented McKenty, succintly, when he
heard it. «He’ll do better than his father in one way, anyhow. He’ll
probably make more money».
McKenty had seen old General MacDonald just once in his life,
and liked him.
«I should like to know what the General would think of that if
he knew», commented Addison, who admired the old editor greatly.
«I’m afraid he wouldn’t sleep very well».
«There is just one thing», observed Cowperwood, thoughtfully.
«This young man will certainly come into control of the Inquirer
222
THE TITAN
sometime. He looks to me like some one who would not readily forget an injury». He smiled sardonically. So did McKenty and Addison.
«Be that as it may», suggested the latter, «he isn’t editor yet».
McKenty, who never revealed his true views to any one but Cowperwood, waited until he had the latter alone to observe:
What can they do? Your request is a reasonable one. Why
shouldn’t the city give you the tunnel? It’s no good to anyone as it is.
And the loop is no more than the other roads have now. I’m thinking it’s the Chicago City Railway and that silk-stocking crowd on
State Street or that gas crowd that’s talking against you. I’ve heard
them before. Give them what they want, and it’s a fi ne moral cause.
Give it to anyone else, and there’s something wrong with it. It’s little
attention I pay to them. We have the council, let it pass the ordinances. It can’t be proved that they don’t do it willingly. The mayor
is a sensible man. He’ll sign them. Let young MacDonald talk if he
wants to. If he says too much you can talk to his father. As for Hyssop, he’s an old grandmother anyhow. I’ve never known him to be
for a public improvement yet that was really good for Chicago unless Schryhart or Merrill or Arneel or someone else of that crowd
wanted it. I know them of old. My advice is to go ahead and never
mind them. To hell with them! Things will be sweet enough, once
you are as powerful as they are. They’ll get nothing in the future
without paying for it. It’s little enough they’ve ever done to further
anything that I wanted.
Cowperwood, however, remained cool and thoughtful. Should
he pay young MacDonald? he asked himself. Addison knew of no infl uence that he could bring to bear. Finally, after much thought, he
decided to proceed as he had planned. Consequently, the reporters
around the City Hall and the council-chamber, who were in touch
with Alderman Thomas Dowling, McKenty’s leader on the fl oor of
council, and those who called occasionally — quite regularly, in
fact — at the offi ces of the North Chicago Street Railway Company,
Cowperwood’s comfortable new offi ces in the North Side, were now
given to understand that two ordinances — one granting the free
223
THEODORE DREISER
use of the La Salle Street tunnel for an unlimited period (practically a gift of it), and another granting a right of way in La Salle,
Munroe, Dearborn, and Randolph streets for the proposed loop —
would be introduced in council very shortly. Cowperwood granted
a very fl owery interview, in which he explained quite enthusiastically all that the North Chicago company was doing and proposed
to do, and made clear what a splendid development it would assure
to the North Side and to the business center.
At once Schryhart, Merrill, and some individuals connected
with the Chicago West Division Company, began to complain in
the newspaper offi ces and at the clubs to Ricketts, Braxton, young
MacDonald, and the other editors. Envy of the pyrotechnic progress of the man was as much a factor in this as anything else. It did
not make the slightest difference, as Cowperwood had sarcastically pointed out, that every other corporation of any signifi cance in
Chicago had asked and received without money and without price.
Somehow his career in connection with Chicago gas, his venturesome, if unsuccessful effort to enter Chicago society, his self-acknowledged Philadelphia record, rendered the sensitive cohorts of
the ultra-conservative exceedingly fearful. In Schryhart’s Chronicle
appeared a news column which was headed, «Plain Grab of City
Tunnel Proposed». It was a very truculent statement, and irritated
Cowperwood greatly. The Press (Mr. Haguenin’s paper), on the other hand, was most cordial to the idea of the loop, while appearing
to be a little uncertain as to whether the tunnel should be granted
without compensation or not. Editor Hyssop felt called upon to
insist that something more than merely nominal compensation
should be made for the tunnel, and that «riders» should be inserted in the loop ordinance making it incumbent upon the North Chicago company to keep those thoroughfares in full repair and well
lighted. The Inquirer , under Mr. MacDonald, junior, and Mr. Du
Bois, was in rumbling opposition. No free tunnels, it cried; no free
ordinances for privileges in the down-town heart. It had nothing to
say about Cowperwood personally. The Globe , Mr. Braxton’s paper,
224
THE TITAN
was certain that no free rights to the tunnel should be given, and
that a much better route for the loop could be found — one larger
and more serviceable to the public, one that might be made to include State Street or Wabash Avenue, or both, where Mr. Merrill’s
store was located. So it went, and one could see quite clearly to what
extent the interests of the public fi gured in the majority of these
particular viewpoints.
Cowperwood, individual, reliant, utterly indifferent to opposition of any kind, was somewhat angered by the manner in which
his overtures had been received, but still felt that the best way
out of his troubles was to follow McKenty’s advice and get power
fi rst. Once he had his cable-conduit down, his new cars running,
the tunnel rebuilt, brilliantly lighted, and the bridge crush disposed
of, the public would see what a vast change for the better had been
made and would support him. Finally all things were in readiness
and the ordinance jammed through. McKenty, being a little dubious of the outcome, had a rocking-chair brought into the councilchamber itself during the hours when the ordinances were up for
consideration. In this he sat, presumably as a curious spectator, actually as a master dictating the course of liquidation in hand. Neither
Cowperwood nor any one else knew of McKenty’s action until too
late to interfere with it. Addison and Videra, when they read about
it as sneeringly set forth in the news columns of the papers, lifted
and then wrinkled their eyebrows.
«That looks like pretty rough work to me», commented Addison.
«I thought McKenty had more tact. That’s his early Irish training».
Alexander Rambaud, who was an admirer and follower of Cowperwood’s, wondered whether the papers were lying, whether it really could be true that Cowperwood had a serious political compact
with McKenty which would allow him to walk rough-shod over
public opinion. Rambaud considered Cowperwood’s proposition so
sane and reasonable that he could not understand why there should
be serious opposition, or why Cowperwood and McKenty should
have to resort to such methods.
225
THEODORE DREISER
However, the streets requisite for the loop were granted.
The tunnel was leased for nine hundred and ninety-nine years at
the nominal sum of fi ve thousand dollars per year. It was understood that the old bridges over State, Dearborn, and Clark streets
should be put in repair or removed; but there was «a joker» inserted
elsewhere which nullifi ed this. Instantly there were stormy outbursts in the Chronicle , Inquirer , and Globe ; but Cowperwood,
when he read them, merely smiled. «Let them grumble», he said
to himself. «I put a very reasonable proposition before them. Why
should they complain? I’m doing more now than the Chicago City
Railway. It’s jealousy, that’s all. If Schryhart or Merrill had asked for
it, there would have been no complaint».
McKenty called at the offi ces of the Chicago Trust Company to
congratulate Cowperwood. «The boys did as I thought they would»,
he said. «I had to be there, though, for I heard some one say that
about ten of them intended to ditch us at the last moment».
«Good work, good work!» replied Cowperwood, cheerfully. «This
row will all blow over. It would be the same whenever we asked.
The air will clear up. We’ll give them such a fi ne service that they’ll
forget all about this, and be glad they gave us the tunnel».
Just the same, the morning after the enabling ordinances had
passed, there was much derogatory comment in infl uential quarters.
Mr. Norman Schryhart, who, through his publisher, had been fulminating defensively against Cowperwood, stared solemnly at Mr.
Ricketts when they met.
«Well», said the magnate, who imagined he foresaw a threatened
attack on his Chicago City Street Railway preserves, «I see our friend
Mr. Cowperwood has managed to get his own way with the council.
I am morally certain he uses money to get what he is after as freely
as a fi reman uses water. He’s as slippery as an eel. I should be glad if
we could establish that there is a community of interest between him
and these politicians around City Hall, or between him and Mr. McKenty. I believe he has set out to dominate this city politically as well
as fi nancially, and he’ll need constant watching. If public opinion can
226
THE TITAN
be aroused against him he may be dislodged in the course of time.
Chicago may get too uncomfortable for him. I know Mr. McKenty
personally, but he is not the kind of man I care to do business with».
Mr. Schryhart’s method of negotiating at City Hall was through
certain reputable but somewhat slow-going lawyers who were in
the employ of the South Side company. They had never been able to
reach Mr. McKenty at all. Ricketts echoed a hearty approval. «You’re
very right», he said, with owlish smugness, adjusting a waistcoat button that had come loose, and smoothing his cuffs. «He’s a prince of
politicians. We’ll have to look sharp if we ever trap him». Mr. Ricketts would have been glad to sell out to Mr. Cowperwood, if he had
not been so heavily obligated to Mr. Schryhart. He had no especial
affection for Cowperwood, but he recognized in him a coming man.
Young MacDonald, talking to Clifford Du Bois in the offi ce of
the Inquirer , and refl ecting how little his private telephone message had availed him, was in a waspish, ironic frame of mind.
«Well», he said, «it seems our friend Cowperwood hasn’t taken
our advice. He may make his mark, but the Inquirer isn’t through
with him by a long shot. He’ll be wanting other things from
the city in the future».
Clifford Du Bois regarded his acid young superior with a curious
eye. He knew nothing of MacDonald’s private telephone message to
Cowperwood; but he knew how he himself would have dealt with
the crafty fi nancier had he been in MacDonald’s position.
«Yes, Cowperwood is shrewd», was his comment. «Pritchard, our
political man, says the ways of the City Hall are greased straight up
to the mayor and McKenty, and that Cowperwood can have anything he wants at any time. Tom Dowling eats out of his hand, and
you know what that means. Old General Van Sickle is working for
him in some way. Did you ever see that old buzzard fl ying around if
there wasn’t something dead in the woods?»
«He’s a slick one», remarked MacDonald. «But as for Cowperwood, he can’t get away with this sort of thing very long. He’s going
too fast. He wants too much».
227
THEODORE DREISER
Mr. Du Bois smiled quite secretly. It amused him to see how
Cowperwood had brushed MacDonald and his objections aside —
dispensed for the time being with the services of the Inquirer . Du
Bois confi dently believed that if the old General had been at home
he would have supported the fi nancier.
Within eight months after seizing the La Salle Street tunnel and
gobbling four of the principal down-town streets for his loop, Cowperwood turned his eyes toward the completion of the second part of
the programme — that of taking over the Washington Street tunnel
and the Chicago West Division Company, which was still drifting
along under its old horse-car regime. It was the story of the North
Side company all over again. Stockholders of a certain type — the
average — are extremely nervous, sensitive, fearsome. They are like
that peculiar bivalve, the clam, which at the slightest sense of untoward pressure withdraws into its shell and ceases all activity. The city
tax department began by instituting proceedings against the West
Division company, compelling them to disgorge various unpaid
street-car taxes which had hitherto been conveniently neglected.
The city highway department was constantly jumping on them for
neglect of street repairs. The city water department, by some hocuspocus, made it its business to discover that they had been stealing
water. On the other hand were the smiling representatives of Cowperwood, Kaifrath, Addison, Videra, and others, approaching one director or stockholder after another with glistening accounts of what
a splendid day would set in for the Chicago West Division Company
if only it would lease fi fty-one per cent. of its holdings — fi fty-one
per cent. of twelve hundred and fi fty shares, par value two hundred
dollars — for the fascinating sum of six hundred dollars per share,
and thirty per cent. interest on all stock not assumed.
Who could resist? Starve and beat a dog on the one hand; wheedle, pet, and hold meat in front of it on the other, and it can soon be
brought to perform. Cowperwood knew this. His emissaries for good
and evil were tireless. In the end — and it was not long in coming —
the directors and chief stockholders of the Chicago West Division
228
THE TITAN
Company succumbed; and then, ho! the sudden leasing by the Chicago West Division Company of all its property — to the North Chicago Street Railway Company, lessee in turn of the Chicago City
Passenger Railway, a line which Cowperwood had organized to take
over the Washington Street tunnel. How had he accomplished it?
The question was on the tip of every fi nancial tongue. Who were
the men or the organization providing the enormous sums necessary to pay six hundred dollars per share for six hundred and fi fty
shares of the twelve hundred and fi fty belonging to the old West Division company, and thirty per cent. per year on all the remainder?
Where was the money coming from to cable all these lines? It was
simple enough if they had only thought. Cowperwood was merely
capitalizing the future.
Before the newspapers or the public could suitably protest,
crowds of men were at work day and night in the business heart of
the city, their fl aring torches and resounding hammers making
a fi tful bedlamic world of that region; they were laying the fi rst
great cable loop and repairing the La Salle Street tunnel. It was
the same on the North and West Sides, where concrete conduits
were being laid, new grip and trailer cars built, new car-barns erected, and large, shining power-houses put up. The city, so long used
to the old bridge delays, the straw-strewn, stoveless horse-cars on
their jumping rails, was agog to see how fi ne this new service would
be. The La Salle Street tunnel was soon aglow with white plaster
and electric lights. The long streets and avenues of the North Side
were threaded with concrete-lined conduits and heavy street-rails.
The powerhouses were completed and the system was started, even
while the contracts for the changes on the West Side were being let.
Schryhart and his associates were amazed at this swiftness of
action, this dizzy phantasmagoria of fi nancial operations. It looked
very much to the conservative traction interests of Chicago as if this
young giant out of the East had it in mind to eat up the whole city.
The Chicago Trust Company, which he, Addison, McKenty, and others had organized to manipulate the principal phases of the local
229
THEODORE DREISER
bond issues, and of which he was rumored to be in control, was in
a fl ourishing condition. Apparently he could now write his check for
millions, and yet he was not beholden, so far as the older and more
conservative multimillionaires of Chicago were concerned, to any
one of them. The worst of it was that this Cowperwood — an upstart,
a jail-bird, a stranger whom they had done their best to suppress fi nancially and ostracize socially, had now become an attractive, even
a sparkling fi gure in the eyes of the Chicago public. His views and
opinions on almost any topic were freely quoted; the newspapers,
even the most antagonistic, did not dare to neglect him. Their owners were now fully alive to the fact that a new fi nancial rival had
appeared who was worthy of their steel.
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