Ethics -- Fiction; Religion and sociology -- Fiction; Upper class families -- Fiction
"Get out of it, for God's sake get out of it, before it's too late. For
your own sake, for Maude's, for the children's. You don't realize what
you are doing. You may not believe me, but the time will come when these
fellows you are in with will be repudiated by the community,--their money
won't help them. Tom and I are the best friends you have," he added, a
little irrelevantly.
"And you think I'm going to the dogs."
"Now don't take it the wrong way," he urged.
"What is it you object to about the Maplewood franchise?" I asked. "If
you'll look at a map of the city, you'll see that development is bound to
come on that side. Maplewood Avenue is the natural artery, somebody will
build a line out there, and if you'd rather have eastern capitalists--"
"Why are you going to get this franchise?" he demanded. "Because we
haven't a decent city charter, and a healthy public spirit, you fellows
are buying it from a corrupt city boss, and bribing a corrupt board of
aldermen. That's the plain language of it. And it's only fair to warn you
that I'm going to say so, openly."
"Be sensible," I answered. "We've got to have street railroads,--your
family has one. We know what the aldermen are, what political conditions
are. If you feel this way about it, the thing to do is to try to change
them. But why blame me for getting a franchise for a company in the only
manner in which, under present conditions, a franchise can be got? Do you
want the city to stand still? If not, we have to provide for the new
population."
"Every time you bribe these rascals for a franchise you entrench them,"
he cried. "You make it more difficult to oust them. But you mark my
words, we shall get rid of them some day, and when that fight comes, I
want to be in it."
He had grown very much excited; and it was as though this excitement
suddenly revealed to me the full extent of the change that had taken
place in him since he had left college. As he stood facing me, almost
glaring at me through his eye-glasses, I beheld a slim, nervous,
fault-finding doctrinaire, incapable of understanding the world as it
was, lacking the force of his pioneer forefathers. I rather pitied him.
"I'm sorry we can't look at this thing alike, Perry," I told him. "You've
said solve pretty hard things, but I realize that you hold your point of
view in good faith, and that you have come to me as an old friend. I hope
it won't make any difference in our personal relations."
"I don't see how it can help making a difference," he answered slowly.
His excitement had cooled abruptly: he seemed dazed. At this moment my
private stenographer entered to inform me that I was being called up on
the telephone from New York. "Well, you have more important affairs to
attend to, I won't bother you any more," he added.
"Hold on," I exclaimed, "this call can wait. I'd like to talk it over
with you."
"I'm afraid it wouldn't be any use, Hugh," he said, and went out.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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