Capitalists and financiers -- Fiction; Chicago (Ill.) -- Fiction; Psychological fiction
Meanwhile, Cowperwood, on the advice of Kaffrath, was approaching Isaac
White, Arnold C. Benjamin, and Otto Matjes direct—talking with them as
if they were the only three he desired to deal with. A little later
Thorsen and Kaempfaert were visited in the same spirit, and agreed in
secret fear to sell out, or rather lease at the very advantageous terms
Cowperwood offered, providing he could get the others to do likewise.
This gave the latter a strong backing of sentiment on the board.
Finally Isaac White stated at one of the meetings that he had been
approached with an interesting proposition, which he then and there
outlined. He was not sure what to think, he said, but the board might
like to consider it. At once Thorsen and Kaempfaert were convinced that
all Johnson had suggested was true. It was decided to have Cowperwood
come and explain to the full board just what his plan was, and this he
did in a long, bland, smiling talk. It was made plain that the road
would have to be put in shape in the near future, and that this
proposed plan relieved all of them of work, worry, and care. Moreover,
they were guaranteed more interest at once than they had expected to
earn in the next twenty or thirty years. Thereupon it was agreed that
Cowperwood and his plan should be given a trial. Seeing that if he did
not succeed in paying the proposed interest promptly the property once
more became theirs, so they thought, and that he assumed all
obligations—taxes, water rents, old claims, a few pensions—it appeared
in the light of a rather idyllic scheme.
“Well, boys, I think this is a pretty good day’s work myself,” observed
Anthony Ewer, laying a friendly hand on the shoulder of Mr. Albert
Thorsen. “I’m sure we can all unite in wishing Mr. Cowperwood luck with
his adventure.” Mr. Ewer’s seven hundred and fifteen shares, worth
seventy-one thousand five hundred dollars, having risen to a valuation
of four hundred and twenty-nine thousand dollars, he was naturally
jubilant.
“You’re right,” replied Thorsen, who was parting with four hundred and
eighty shares out of a total of seven hundred and ninety, and seeing
them all bounce in value from two hundred to six hundred dollars. “He’s
an interesting man. I hope he succeeds.”
Cowperwood, waking the next morning in Aileen’s room—he had been out
late the night before with McKenty, Addison, Videra, and others—turned
and, patting her neck where she was dozing, said: “Well, pet, yesterday
afternoon I wound up that North Chicago Street Railway deal. I’m
president of the new North Side company just as soon as I get my board
of directors organized. We’re going to be of some real consequence in
this village, after all, in a year or two.”
He was hoping that this fact, among other things, would end in
mollifying Aileen toward him. She had been so gloomy, remote, weary
these many days—ever since the terrific assault on Rita.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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