Chapter 2

by Upton Sinclair

　　Lucy wanted to come down to Montague's office to talk business withhim; but he would not put her to that trouble, and called the nextmorning at her apartment before he went down town. She showed himall her papers; her father's will, with a list of his property, andalso the accounts of Mr. Holmes, and the rent-roll of her propertiesin New Orleans. As Montague had anticipated, Lucy's affairs had notbeen well managed, and he had many matters to look into and manyquestions to ask. There were a number of mortgages on real estateand buildings, and, on the other hand, some of Lucy's own propertieswere mortgaged, a state of affairs which she was not able toexplain. There were stocks in several industrial companies, of whichMontague knew but little. Last and most important of all, there wasa block of five thousand shares in the Northern MississippiRailroad.

　　"You know all about that, at any rate," said Lucy. "Have you soldyour own holdings yet?"

　　"No," said Montague. "Father wished me to keep the agreement as longas the others did."

　　"I am free to sell mine, am I not?" asked Lucy.

　　"I should certainly advise you to sell it," said Montague. "But I amafraid it will not be easy to find a purchaser."

　　The Northern Mississippi was a railroad with which Montague hadgrown up, so to speak; there was never a time in his recollectionwhen the two families had not talked about it. It ran from Atkin toOpala, a distance of about fifty miles, connecting at the latterpoint with one of the main lines of the State. It was an enterprisewhich Judge Dupree had planned, as a means of opening up a sectionof country in the future of which he had faith.

　　It had been undertaken at a time when distrust of Wall Street wasvery keen in that neighbourhood; and Judge Dupree had raised acouple of million dollars among his own friends and neighbours,adding another half-million of his own, with a gentlemen's agreementamong all of them that the road would not ask favours of Northerncapitalists, and that its stock should never be listed on theExchanges. The first president had been an uncle of Lucy's, and thepresent holder of the office was an old friend of the family's.

　　But the sectional pride which had raised the capital could notfurnish the traffic. The towns which Judge Dupree had imagined didnot materialise, and the little railroad did not keep pace with theprogress of the time. For the last decade or so its properties hadbeen depreciating and its earnings falling off, and it had beenseveral years since Montague had drawn any dividends upon the fiftythousand dollars' worth of stock for which his father had paid parvalue.

　　He was reminded, as he talked about all this with Lucy, of a projectwhich had been mooted some ten or twelve years ago, to extend theline from Atkin so as to connect with the plant of the MississippiSteel Company, and give that concern a direct outlet toward thewest. The Mississippi Steel Company had one of the half dozenlargest plate and rail mills in the country, and the idea ofdirecting even a small portion of its enormous freight was one whichhad incessantly tantalised the minds of the directors of theNorthern Mississippi.

　　They had gone so far as to conduct a survey, and to make a carefulestimate of the cost of the proposed extension. Montague knew aboutthis, because it had chanced that he, together with Lucy's brother,who was now in California, had spent part of his vacation on ahunting trip, during which they had camped near the surveying party.The proposed line had to find its way through the Talula swamps, andhere was where the uncertainty of the project came in. There were adozen routes proposed, and Montague remembered how he had sat by thecampfire one evening, and got into conversation with one of theyounger men of the party, and listened to his grumbling about theblundering of the survey. It was his opinion that the head-surveyorwas incompetent, that he was obstinately rejecting the best routesin favour of others which were almost impossible.

　　Montague had taken this gossip to his father, but he did not knowwhether his father had ever looked into the matter. He only knewthat when the project for the proposed extension had been brought upat a stockholders' meeting, the cost of the work was found so greatthat it was impossible to raise the money. A proposal to go to theMississippi Steel Company was voted down, because Mississippi Steelwas in the hands of Wall Street men; and neither Judge Dupree norGeneral Montague had realised at that time the hopelessness of theplight of the little railroad.

　　All these matters were brought up in the conversation between Lucyand Montague. There was no reason, he assured her, why they shouldstill hold on to their stock; if, by the proposed extension, or byany other plan, new capitalists could make a success of the company,it would be well to make some combination with them, or, better yet,to sell out entirely. Montague promised that he would take thematter in hand and see what he could do.

　　His first thought, as he went down town, was of Jim Hegan. "Come andsee me sometime," Hegan had said, and Montague had never acceptedthe invitation. The Northern Mississippi would, of course, be a merebagatelle to a man like Hegan, but who could tell what new plans hemight be able to fit it into? Montague knew by the rumours in thestreet that the great financier had sold out all his holdings in twoor three of his most important ventures.

　　He went at once to Hegan's office, in the building of one of thegreat insurance companies downtown. He made his way throughcorridors of marble to a gate of massively ornamented bronze, behindwhich stood a huge guardian in uniform, also massively ornamented.Montague generally passed for a big man, but this personage made himfeel like an office-boy.

　　"Is Mr. Hegan in?" he asked.

　　"Do you call by appointment?" was the response.

　　"Not precisely," said Montague, producing a card. "Will you kindlysend this to Mr. Hegan?"

　　"Do you know Mr. Hegan personally?" the man demanded.

　　"I do," Montague answered.

　　The other had made no sign, as far as Montague could make out, butat this moment a dapper young secretary made his appearance from thedoors behind the gate. "Would you kindly state the business uponwhich you wish to see Mr. Hegan?" he said.

　　"I wish to see Mr. Hegan personally," Montague answered, with just atrifle of asperity, "If you will kindly take in this card, it willbe sufficient."

　　He submitted with what grace he could to a swift inspection at thesecretary's hands, wondering, in the meantime, if his new springovercoat was sufficiently up-to-date to entitle him, in thesecretary's judgment, to be a friend of the great man within.Finally the man disappeared with the card, and half a minute latercame back, smiling effusively. He ushered Montague into a hugeoffice with leather-cushioned chairs large enough to hold severalpeople each, and too large for any one person to be comfortable in.There was a map of the continent upon the wall, across which JimHegan's railroads stretched like scarlet ribbons. There were alsoheads of bison and reindeer, which Hegan had shot himself.

　　Montague had to wait only a minute or two, and then he was escortedthrough a chain of rooms, and came at last to the magnate's innersanctum. This was plain, with an elaborate and studied plainness,and Jim Hegan sat in front of a flat mahogany desk which had not ascrap of paper anywhere upon it.

　　He rose as the other came in, stretching out his huge form. "How doyou do, Mr. Montague?" he said, and shook hands. Then he sat down inhis chair, and settled back until his head rested on the back, andbent his great beetling brows, and gazed at his visitor.

　　The last time that Montague had met Hegan they had talked abouthorses, and about old days in Texas; but Montague was wise enough torealise that this had been in the evening. "I have come on a matterof business, Mr. Hegan," he said. "So I will be as brief aspossible."

　　"A course of action which I do my best to pardon," was the smilingreply.

　　"I want to propose to you to interest yourself in the affairs of theNorthern Mississippi Railroad," said the other.

　　"The Northern Mississippi?" said Hegan, knitting his brows. "I havenever heard of it."

　　"I don't imagine that many people have," the other answered, andwent on to tell the story of the line.

　　"I have five hundred shares of the stock myself," he said, "but ithas been in my family for a long time, and I am perfectly satisfiedto let it stay there. I am not making this proposition on my ownaccount, but for a client who has a block of five thousand shares. Ihave here the annual reports of the road for several years, and someother information about its condition. My idea was that you mightcare to take the road, and make the proposed extension to the worksof the Mississippi Steel Company."

　　"Mississippi Steel!" exclaimed Hegan. He had evidently heard ofthat.

　　"How long ago did you say it was that this plan was looked into?" heasked. And Montague told him the story of the survey, and what hehimself had heard about it.

　　"That sounds curious," said Hegan, and bent his brows, evidently indeep thought. "I will look into the matter," he said, finally. "Ihave no plans of my own that would take me into that neighbourhood,but it may be possible that I can think of someone who would beinterested. Have you any idea what your client wants for thethousand shares?"

　　"My client has put the matter into my hands," he answered. "Thematter was only broached to me this morning, and I shall have tolook further into the condition of the road. I should advise her toaccept a fair offer--say seventy-five per cent of the par value ofthe stock."

　　"We can talk about that later," said Hegan, "if I can find the manfor you." And Montague shook hands with him and left.

　　He stopped in on his way home in the evening to tell Lucy about theresult of his interview. "We shall hear from him soon," he said. "Idon't imagine that Hegan is a man who takes long to make up hismind."

　　"My prayers will be with him," said Lucy, with a laugh. Then sheadded, "I suppose I shall see you Friday night at Mr. Harvey's."

　　"I shan't come out until Saturday afternoon," said he. "I am verybusy these days, working on a case. But I try to find time to getdown to Siegfried Harvey's; I seem to get along with him."

　　"They tell me he goes in for horses," said Lucy.

　　"He has a splendid stable," he answered.

　　"It was good of Ollie to bring him round," said she. "I havecertainly jumped into the midst of things. What do you think I'mgoing to do to-morrow?"

　　"I have no idea," he said.

　　"I have been invited to see Mr. Waterman's art gallery."

　　"Dan Waterman's!" he exclaimed. "How did that happen?"

　　"Mrs. Alden's brother asked me. He knows him, and got me theinvitation. Wouldn't you like to go?"

　　"I shall be busy in court all day to-morrow," said Montague. "ButI'd like to see the collection. I understand it's a wonderfulaffair,--the old man has spent all his spare time at it. You hearfabulous estimates of what it's cost him--four or five millions atthe least."

　　"But why in the world does he hide it in a studio way up theHudson?" cried Lucy.

　　The other shrugged his shoulders. "Just a whim," he said. "He didn'tcollect it for other people's pleasure."

　　"Well, so long as he lets me see it, I can't complain," said Lucy."There are so many things to see in this city, I am sure I shall bebusy for a year."

　　"You will get tired before you have seen half of them," he answered."Everybody does."

　　"Do you know Mr. Waterman?" she asked.

　　"I have never met him," he said. "I have seen him a couple oftimes." And Montague went on to tell her of the occasion in theMillonaires' Club, when he had seen the Croesus of Wall Streetsurrounded by an attending throng of "little millionaires."

　　"I hope I shan't meet him," said Lucy. "I know I should befrightened to death."

　　"They say he can be charming when he wants to," replied Montague."The ladies are fond of him."

　　On Saturday afternoon, when Montague went down to Harvey's LongIsland home, his brother met him at the ferry.

　　"Allan," he began, immediately, "did you know that Lucy had comedown here with Stanley Ryder?"

　　"Heavens, no!" exclaimed Montague. "Is Ryder down here?"

　　"He got Harvey to invite him," Oliver replied. "And I know it wasfor no reason in the world but to be with Lucy. He took her out inhis automobile."

　　Montague was dumfounded.

　　"She never hinted it to me," he said.

　　"By God!" exclaimed Oliver, "I wonder if that fellow is going afterLucy!"

　　Montague stood for some time, lost in sombre thought. "I don't thinkit will do him much good," he said. "Lucy knows too much."

　　"Lucy has never met a man like Stanley Ryder!" declared the other."He has spent all his life hunting women, and she is no match forhim at all."

　　"What do you know about him?" asked Montague.

　　"What don't I know about him!" exclaimed the other. "He was in lovewith Betty Wyman once."

　　"Oh, my Lord!" exclaimed Montague.

　　"Yes," said Oliver, "and she told me all about it. He has as manytricks as a conjurer. He has read a lot of New Thought stuff, and hetalks about his yearning soul, and every woman he meets is hisaffinity. And then again, he is a free thinker, and he discoursesabout liberty and the rights of women. He takes all the moralitiesand shuffles them up, until you'd think the noblest role a womancould play is that of a married man's mistress."

　　Montague could not forbear to smile. "I have known you to shufflethe moralities now and then yourself, Ollie," he said.

　　"Yes, that's all right," replied the other. "But this is Lucy. Andsomebody's got to talk to her about Stanley Ryder."

　　"I will do it," Montague answered.

　　He found Lucy in a cosy corner of the library when he came down todinner. She was full of all the wonderful things that she had seenin Dan Waterman's art gallery. "And Allan," she exclaimed, "what doyou think, I met him!"

　　"You don't mean it!" said he.

　　"He was there the whole afternoon!" declared Lucy. "And he never dida thing but be nice to me!"

　　"Then you didn't find him so terrible as you expected," saidMontague.

　　"He was perfectly charming," said Lucy. "He showed me his wholecollection and told me the history of the different paintings, andstories about how he got them. I never had such an experience in mylife."

　　"He can be an interesting man when he chooses," Montague responded.

　　"He is marvellous!" said she. "You look at that lean figure, and thewizened-up old hawk's face, with the white hair all round it, andyou'd think that he was in his dotage. But when he talks--I don'twonder men obey him!"

　　"They obey him!" said Montague. "No mistake about that! There is nota man in Wall Street who could live for twenty-four hours if old DanWaterman went after him in earnest."

　　"How in the world does he do it?" asked Lucy. "Is he so enormouslyrich?"

　　"It is not the money he owns," said Montague; "it's what hecontrols. He is master of the banks; and no man can take a step inWall Street without his knowing it if he wants to. And he can breaka man's credit; he can have all his loans called. He can swing themarket so as to break a man. And then, think of his power inWashington! He uses the Treasury as if it were one of his branchoffices."

　　"It seems frightful," said Lucy. "And that old man--over eighty! I'mglad that I met him, at any rate."

　　She paused, seeing Stanley Ryder in the doorway. He was evidentlylooking for her. He took her in to dinner; and every now and then,when Montague stole a glance at her, he saw that Ryder wasmonopolising her attention.

　　After dinner they adjourned to the music-room, and Ryder played acouple of Chopin's Nocturnes. He never took his eyes from Lucy'sface while he was playing. "I declare," remarked Betty Wyman inMontague's hearing, "the way Stanley Ryder makes love at the pianois positively indecent."

　　Montague dodged several invitations to play cards, and deliberatelyplaced himself at Lucy's side for the evening. And when at lastStanley Ryder had gone away in disgust to the smoking-room, heturned to her and said, "Lucy, you must let me speak to you aboutthis."

　　"I don't mind your speaking to me, Allan," she said; with a feebleattempt at a smile.

　　"But you must pay attention to me," he protested. "You really don'tknow the sort of man you are dealing with, or what people thinkabout him."

　　She sat in silence, biting her lip nervously, while Montague toldher, as plainly as he could, what Ryder's reputation was. All thatshe could answer was, "He is such an interesting man!"

　　"There are many interesting men," said he, "but you will never meetthem if you get people talking about you like this."

　　Lucy clasped her hands together.

　　"Allan," she exclaimed, "I did my best to persuade him not to comeout here. And you are right. I will do what you say--I will havenothing to do with him, honestly. You shall see! It's his own faultthat he came, and he can find somebody else to entertain him whilehe's here."

　　"I wish that you would tell him plainly, Lucy," said Montague."Never mind if he gets angry. Make him understand you--once forall."

　　"I will--I will!" she declared.

　　And Montague judged that she carried out her promise quickly, forthe rest of the evening Ryder gave to entertaining the company.About midnight Montague chanced to look into the library, and he sawthe president of the Gotham Trust in the midst of a group which wasexcitedly discussing divorce. "Marriage is a sin for which thechurch refuses absolution!" he heard Stanley Ryder exclaiming.