The Stoic. Theodore Dreiser

soon be sixty,” he went on, quietly, “and while I’m not thinking of dying just yet, I certainly feel that I ought to clear matters up. As three of my five executors, I’ve been intending to name Mr. Dolan, of Philadelphia, and Mr. Cole, as well as the Central Trust Company here. Both Dolan and Cole are men who understand the financial and executive side of things, and I’m sure they would carry out my wishes. But since I intend leaving you the use of this house for your lifetime, I’ve been thinking of joining you up with Dolan and Cole, so that you can either open the house to the public yourself or see that arrangements are made to do so. I want the house to be beautiful, and remain beautiful after I die.”

      Aileen was now even more thrilled. She could not imagine what had brought about this serious consideration of herself in connection with her husband’s affairs, but she was flattered and gratified. It must be that he was beginning to take a more sobered view of life.

      “You know, Frank,” she said, trying not to be too emotional, “how I’ve always felt about everything in connection with you. I’ve never had any other real life, and never want to have any, apart from you, although you don’t seem to feel that way any more. But as far as this house is concerned, if you leave it to me or make me one of your executors, you can rest assured that nothing will ever be changed by me. I never pretended to have the taste and knowledge that you have, but you know that your wishes will always be sacred to me.”

      While she talked, Cowperwood was poking his finger at a green and orange macaw, whose harsh voice, harmonizing with his brazen colors, seemed to mock at the solemnity of his mood. Yet he was touched by Aileen’s words, and reached over and patted her on the shoulder.

      “I know that, Aileen. I only wish the two of us could look at life from the same standpoint. But since we cannot, I want to make the best of all possible compromises, because I know that whatever has been or may be, you care for me and are likely to continue to do so. And whether you believe it or not, if I can make any return for that, I am only too anxious to do it. This matter of the house, and some other things I am going to talk to you about presently, are a part of it.”

      At the dinner table later, he told her of his idea of endowing a hospital with extensive research facilities, and spoke of other bequests. In this connection, he indicated how necessary it would be for him to make frequent returns to New York and to this house. And on such occasions he would prefer her to be there. Of course, there would be intermittent trips abroad for her, too.

      And seeing her so happy and satisfied, he congratulated himself on the manner in which he had brought her around to his terms. If only they could continue that way, all would be well.

      Chapter 17

      In London at this time Jarkins was busily engaged in impressing his partner, Kloorfain, with the news that the great Cowperwood, he believed, was really interested in the London underground situation as a whole! He described Cowperwood’s attitude and words, and at the same time he explained that they had made a mistake in not sensing that a man with such immense holdings would certainly not want to bother with one little underground system. How ridiculous for Greaves and Henshaw to think they could interest him in 50 per cent of their line! Why, here was no chance of him accepting any such terms. Nothing short of a full 51 per cent control for him! Did Kloorfain think that Greaves and Henshaw were ever likely to find the money for their line in England?

      To which Kloorfain, a stout, oleaginous Dutchman, as shrewd in small practical ways as he was deficient in large financial vision or courage, replied:

      “Not at all! Too many ‘acts,’ as it is. Too many companies fighting each other for single routes. No willingness on the part of any one company to join up with any other to give the public a through route at a reasonable fare. I’ve seen it myself, for I’ve been riding around London for years. Why, just think, there are these two central lines, the Metropolitan and the District, which together control a circle around the very business heart of London” . . . and he proceeded to point out some of the practical as well as financial errors made by these two lines, and their resulting difficulties. They had never been willing to merge and build feeder lines, not even to electrify and modernize those they had. They were still running steam engines through tunnels and open cuts. The only company which had shown any sense at all was the City and South London, which ran from the Monument to Clapham Common. It had an electric system which operated with a third rail, and it ran smoothly, was well lighted, and the only well-patronized road in the city. But even so, it was too short; its passengers had to transfer and pay an extra fare on the London loop. London certainly needed a man like Cowperwood or a group of English financiers who would get together and finance and enlarge the system.

      As to proposed lines which Cowperwood might secure, well, there was the Baker Street and Waterloo, being promoted by a Londoner by the name of Abington Scarr. Scarr had had his act for the last sixteen months and done nothing. Then there was some talk of extensions being made by the District, but in both cases capital was wanting.

      “In fact,” concluded Kloorfain, “if Cowperwood really wants that Charing Cross, I don’t think he’d have much trouble getting it. Traffic Electrical gave up trying to finance it over two years ago. Since then these two engineers have had it, but until this suggestion in regard to Cowperwood came up, I’m sure they never had a bid of any kind. Besides, they’re not railroad men, and unless they find a man with as much money as Cowperwood has, I doubt if they’ll ever be able to put it through.”

      “Well, then, there’s no use worrying about them, is there?” commented Jarkins.

      “I think not,” reiterated Kloorfain. “But I think we ought to look up some of the people connected with the two old central loop lines, the District and the Metropolitan, or some of the bankers down in Threadneedle Street, and see what we can find out. You know Crawshaw, of Crawshaw and Vokes. They’ve been trying to find money for Greaves and Henshaw ever since they took over the option. Of course, they’ve failed, just as the Traffic Electrical crowd failed before them. They want too much.”

      “Traffic Electrical?” queried Jarkins. “That’s the company that had this line originally. What sort of people are they?”

      At once, and quite briskly, Kloorfain recalled a number of things in connection with them, not all that Sippens had discovered, but enough to interest both men. For now, emerging out of the pool of Kloorfain’s memories came Stane, Rider, Bullock, and Johnson, but more particularly Johnson and Stane. They had been among the principal promoters of Charing Cross and Kampstead, Stane was of the nobility and a large stockholder in District as well as City and South London. Johnson was counsel for Stane, as well as for District and Metropolitan, and also a stockholder in both lines.

      Well, why not try and see this man Johnson?” queried Jarkins, all ears and attention because of his rift with Cowperwood. “He must be pretty well informed on all that’s going on.”

      Kloorfain was standing at a window, looking down into the street. “Capital!” he exclaimed, turning around to face Jarkins. “The very idea! Why not? Only . . .” And now he paused and looked dubiously at Jarkins. “Is this all quite ethical? As I understand it, we haven’t the right to say we represent Cowperwood. From what you say he only agreed to hear Greaves and Henshaw in New York because we asked him to. He didn’t appoint us to do any work in connection with them.”

      “Well, anyhow, I think it might be a good thing to sound out this fellow Johnson,” returned Jarkins, “indicate to him that Cowperwood, or some American millionaire that he know, is interested in a plan to unite some of these lines, and then suggest that the Charing Cross line, if they could get it back, might be sold to him. In that case, as the agents bringing them together, we ought to come in for a pretty neat bonus, and we’d be entitled to it. Besides, if any shares can be picked up now or sold for them or Cowperwood, we might come in as purchasing or selling agents. Why not?”

      “Not a bad idea,” said Kloorfain, becoming more eager. “I’ll see if I can get him on the telephone.”

      He lumbered into an inner office, and was about to make the call when he stopped and looked at Jarkins.

      “The simplest way, I think, is to ask for a consultation in connection