The Titan. Theodore Dreiser

the three old companies into one—he might be able to force better terms. He was not sure. Finally he asked, "How much stock of the new company would be left in your hands—or in the hands of the organizing group—after each of the old and new companies had been provided for on this basis?"

      "Oh, possibly thirty-five or forty per cent. of the whole," replied

       Schryhart, ingratiatingly. "The laborer is worthy of his hire."

      "Quite so," replied Cowperwood, smiling, "but, seeing that I am the man who has been cutting the pole to knock this persimmon it seems to me that a pretty good share of that should come to me; don't you think so?"

      "Just what do you mean?"

      "Just what I have said. I personally have organized the new companies which have made this proposed combination possible. The plan you propose is nothing more than what I have been proposing for some time. The officers and directors of the old companies are angry at me merely because I am supposed to have invaded the fields that belong to them. Now, if on account of that they are willing to operate through you rather than through me, it seems to me that I should have a much larger share in the surplus. My personal interest in these new companies is not very large. I am really more of a fiscal agent than anything else." (This was not true, but Cowperwood preferred to have his guest think so.)

      Schryhart smiled. "But, my dear sir," he explained, "you forget that I will be supplying nearly all the capital to do this."

      "You forget," retorted Cowperwood, "that I am not a novice. I will guarantee to supply all the capital myself, and give you a good bonus for your services, if you want that. The plants and franchises of the old and new companies are worth something. You must remember that Chicago is growing."

      "I know that," replied Schryhart, evasively, "but I also know that you have a long, expensive fight ahead of you. As things are now you cannot, of yourself, expect to bring these old companies to terms. They won't work with you, as I understand it. It will require an outsider like myself—some one of influence, or perhaps, I had better say, of old standing in Chicago, some one who knows these people—to bring about this combination. Have you any one, do you think, who can do it better than I?"

      "It is not at all impossible that I will find some one," replied

       Cowperwood, quite easily.

      "I hardly think so; certainly not as things are now. The old companies are not disposed to work through you, and they are through me. Don't you think you had better accept my terms and allow me to go ahead and close this matter up?"

      "Not at all on that basis," replied Cowperwood, quite simply. "We have invaded the enemies' country too far and done too much. Three for one or four for one—whatever terms are given the stockholders of the old companies—is the best I will do about the new shares, and I must have one-half of whatever is left for myself. At that I will have to divide with others." (This was not true either.)

      "No," replied Schryhart, evasively and opposingly, shaking his square head. "It can't be done. The risks are too great. I might allow you one-fourth, possibly—I can't tell yet."

      "One-half or nothing," said Cowperwood, definitely.

      Schryhart got up. "That's the best you will do, is it?" he inquired.

      "The very best."

      "I'm afraid then," he said, "we can't come to terms. I'm sorry. You may find this a rather long and expensive fight."

      "I have fully anticipated that," replied the financier.

Chapter XII

       Table of Contents

      A New Retainer

      Cowperwood, who had rebuffed Schryhart so courteously but firmly, was to learn that he who takes the sword may well perish by the sword. His own watchful attorney, on guard at the state capitol, where certificates of incorporation were issued in the city and village councils, in the courts and so forth, was not long in learning that a counter-movement of significance was under way. Old General Van Sickle was the first to report that something was in the wind in connection with the North Side company. He came in late one afternoon, his dusty greatcoat thrown loosely about his shoulders, his small, soft hat low over his shaggy eyes, and in response to Cowperwood's "Evening, General, what can I do for you?" seated himself portentously.

      "I think you'll have to prepare for real rough weather in the future, Captain," he remarked, addressing the financier with a courtesy title that he had fallen in the habit of using.

      "What's the trouble now?" asked Cowperwood.

      "No real trouble as yet, but there may be. Some one—I don't know who—is getting these three old companies together in one. There's a certificate of incorporation been applied for at Springfield for the United Gas and Fuel Company of Chicago, and there are some directors' meetings now going on at the Douglas Trust Company. I got this from Duniway, who seems to have friends somewhere that know."

      Cowperwood put the ends of his fingers together in his customary way and began to tap them lightly and rhythmically.

      "Let me see—the Douglas Trust Company. Mr. Simms is president of that. He isn't shrewd enough to organize a thing of that kind. Who are the incorporators?"

      The General produced a list of four names, none of them officers or directors of the old companies.

      "Dummies, every one," said Cowperwood, succinctly. "I think I know," he said, after a few moments' reflection, "who is behind it, General; but don't let that worry you. They can't harm us if they do unite. They're bound to sell out to us or buy us out eventually."

      Still it irritated him to think that Schryhart had succeeded in persuading the old companies to combine on any basis; he had meant to have Addison go shortly, posing as an outside party, and propose this very thing. Schryhart, he was sure, had acted swiftly following their interview. He hurried to Addison's office in the Lake National.

      "Have you heard the news?" exclaimed that individual, the moment Cowperwood appeared. "They're planning to combine. It's Schryhart. I was afraid of that. Simms of the Douglas Trust is going to act as the fiscal agent. I had the information not ten minutes ago."

      "So did I," replied Cowperwood, calmly. "We should have acted a little sooner. Still, it isn't our fault exactly. Do you know the terms of agreement?"

      "They're going to pool their stock on a basis of three to one, with about thirty per cent. of the holding company left for Schryhart to sell or keep, as he wants to. He guarantees the interest. We did that for him—drove the game right into his bag."

      "Nevertheless," replied Cowperwood, "he still has us to deal with. I propose now that we go into the city council and ask for a blanket franchise. It can be had. If we should get it, it will bring them to their knees. We will really be in a better position than they are with these smaller companies as feeders. We can unite with ourselves."

      "That will take considerable money, won't it?"

      "Not so much. We may never need to lay a pipe or build a plant. They will offer to sell out, buy, or combine before that. We can fix the terms. Leave it to me. You don't happen to know by any chance this Mr. McKenty, who has so much say in local affairs here—John J. McKenty?"

      Cowperwood was referring to a man who was at once gambler, rumored owner or controller of a series of houses of prostitution, rumored maker of mayors and aldermen, rumored financial backer of many saloons and contracting companies—in short, the patron saint of the political and social underworld of Chicago, and who was naturally to be reckoned with in matters which related to the city and state legislative programme.

      "I don't," said Addison; "but I can get you a letter. Why?"

      "Don't trouble to ask me that now. Get me as strong an introduction as you can."

      "I'll have one for you to-day some time," replied Addison,