Otherwise Phyllis Part 47

My dear brother Will has kicked me out; actually told me he'd have me arrested if I ever showed up here again. Like a fool I sent word to Kirkwood that I could be of service in getting to the bottom of Sycamore; thought he'd let bygones be bygones when it came to straight business, but, by George, he didn't even answer my letter! Cold as a frozen lobster, and always was! You see I thought it was all on the level--his tinkering with the traction company--but he's in on the shrewdest piece of high finance that was ever put over in Indiana. Talk about my lamented brother Samuel--Sam never started in his cla.s.s!"

Waterman, with his ponderous swivel-chair tipped back against the Indiana Reports that lined the wall, listened guardedly. It was not wholly flattering to be chosen by a man of Jack Holton's reputation as the repository of confidences; but things had been going badly with Waterman. His pa.s.sion for speculation had led him to invest funds he held as guardian in pork margins, and a caprice of the powers that play with pork in Chicago had wiped him out. Judge Walters had just been asking impertinent questions about the guardians.h.i.+p money, and when he had gone to the First National Bank for a loan to tide over the judicial inquiry and avert an appeal to his bondsmen, William Holton had "called"

a loan of three hundred dollars that the bank had been carrying for two years. This was very annoying, and it made the lawyer more tolerant of Jack Holton than he should otherwise have been.

"We're talking on the dead, are we?"

Waterman grunted his acquiescence.

"Well, Kirkwood and old Amzi have framed it up to pinch the small Sycamore stockholders. Kirkwood stands in with those Eastern fellows who have the big end of it--he's their representative, as everybody knows.

And old Amzi is gumshoeing through the woods buying bonds of the yaps who sh.e.l.led out to Samuel--telling them the company's gone to the bad, and that he's the poor man's friend, anxious to a.s.sume their burdens.

It's a good story, all right. Of course he has his tip from Kirkwood that the bonds are going to boom or he wouldn't be putting money into 'em. You know Amzi--he's the king of gumshoe artists--and he and Kirkwood are bound to make a big clean-up out of this."

Waterman was interested. He had always disliked Amzi. He felt that the banker had never dealt squarely with him, and in particular the peremptory fas.h.i.+on in which Amzi, seven years earlier, had pushed his pa.s.s-book through the window and suggested that he take his account elsewhere had eaten into his soul.

"I knew somebody was picking up those bonds, but I didn't know it was Amzi. One of my clients had five of them, and I'd got him to the point of letting me bring suit for a receiver, but somebody shut him off."

"Your client's bonds are in Kirkwood's pocket, all right enough. By George, can you beat it! And here's another thing. A man hates to talk against his own flesh and blood; and you may think I'm not in a position to strut around virtuously and talk about other people's sins; but I guess I've got some sense of honor left. I've never stolen any money. I did run off with another man's wife, and I got my pay for _that_. That was in the ardor of youth, Waterman; it was a calamitous mistake. n.o.body knows it better than I do. I got my punishment. I don't wish the woman any harm; she's a brazen one, and don't need anybody's sympathy."

Lois Montgomery Holton's brazenness had been brought to Waterman's attention convincingly at home. Josephine, Kate, and f.a.n.n.y were almost insane over their sister's bold return. Her impudence in settling herself upon Amzi, under their very noses, was discussed every day and all day on Sunday, whenever Lois's sisters could get their heads together. Waterman felt that Jack Holton's direct testimony as to the brazenness of their wicked sister would be grateful to the ears of his wife and sisters-in-law.

"I guess," said Waterman, "that hasn't anything to do with the case. If what you say's true--"

"Oh, it's true, all right enough. You go over to the 'Star' office and ask why they've shut up about Sycamore; ask Judge Walters why certain damage suits against the Sycamore Company haven't been tried; go out among the people who had put the savings of years into the traction company and ask them who's buying their bonds. And then, just for a joke, telegraph the Comptroller at Was.h.i.+ngton and ask him why he sent out a special agent of the Treasury to look over the First National after the examiner's last visit. I tell you, this town's going to have a big jar in a day or two, and it's just about up to you to get out among the people and tell 'em how they're being worked."

"The people like being worked," replied Waterman, who had been trying to bring the people to a realizing sense of their wrongs in every campaign for twenty years. In a few months they would again be choosing a Representative in Congress for the seat he had long coveted, and it was conceivable that if he should now show himself valiant in their behalf he might avert his usual biennial defeat. It was worth considering.

"The thing to do is to hold a ma.s.s meeting and make one of your big speeches, pitching into Walters for refusing to bring those damage suits to trial, and telling the truth about what Kirkwood and Amzi are doing, and then go over to Indianapolis and bring suit for the appointment of a receiver. And, by the way, I'm not as altruistic as I look. I'll take the receivers.h.i.+p and you'll be the receiver's attorney, of course.

Between us we ought to clear up something handsome, besides rendering a great public service that you can cash in here any way you like."

Only that day Judge Walters had granted the request of Wright and Fitch, the Indianapolis attorneys, for a postponement of the trial of a damage suit against the Sycamore Company in which Waterman represented the plaintiff, and this now a.s.sumed new significance in the lawyer's mind.

If he got before a ma.s.s meeting with a chance to arraign the courts for their subservience to corporations, he was confident that it would redound to his credit at the fall election. His affairs were in such shape that some such miracle as his election to Congress was absolutely necessary to his rehabilitation.

"You don't think the First National's going under, do you? Bill isn't fool enough to let it come to that?"

Holton winked knowingly to whet his auditor's appet.i.te.

"I don't think it; I know it! Kirkwood's a merciless devil, and he's got Bill and my hopeful nephew Charlie where the hair's short. If Sam had lived he'd have taken care of this traction business; Sam was a genius, all right. Sam could sell lemons for peaches, and when people made faces he sugared the lemons and proved they were peaches. Sam was no second-story man; he worked on the ground floor in broad daylight. Good old Sam!"

A Chicago newspaper had given currency to a rumor that the Sycamore line was soon to be put into the hands of a receiver, and while Kirkwood denied this promptly, there were many disquieting stories afloat as to the fate of the road.

The reports of an expert as to the road's physical condition had been rea.s.suring, on the whole, and a thorough audit had placed Kirkwood in possession of all the facts as to the property and its possibilities.

Some of the most prominent men in the State had been stockholders in the Sanford Construction Company. Samuel Holton had enrolled in that corporation his particular intimates, who had expected him to "take care of them" as he was in the habit of doing. The list included several former state officials and the benevolent bosses who manipulated the legislature by a perfectly adjusted bi-partisan mechanism. It was with a disagreeable shock that they found that Samuel had departed this life, leaving them to bear the burden of his iniquities.

Tom Kirkwood had a.s.sembled these gentlemen in the inner room of Wright and Fitch's offices and laid the incontrovertible figures before them, with an alternative that they return their respective shares of the plunder or answer to an action at law. Kirkwood was an absurd person. It was politely suggested that it would be much to his advantage to allow the Sycamore Company to take its course through the courts, under a receiver friendly to the stockholders of the Sanford Construction Company. Kirkwood was informed that things had always been done that way; but, having no political ambitions or ties, he was little impressed. It seemed to the business politicians weakminded for a man who had "pull" enough to secure employment from one of the most powerful trust companies on the continent to refuse to listen to "reason." It was almost incredible that he should be trying to save the road instead of wrecking it, when there was no money to be made out of saving a trolley line that had been marked for destruction from the day its first tie was laid. Kirkwood smiled coldly upon them and their attorneys when they pa.s.sed from persuasions to threats. It was difficult to find an effective club to use on a man who was so unreasonable as to threaten them with the long arm of the grand jury. The most minute scrutiny of Kirkwood's private life failed to disclose anything that might be used to frighten him.

It had seemed to Kirkwood that the beneficiaries of the construction company should pay into the Sycamore treasury enough money to repair the losses occasioned by dishonest work. Interest on the Sycamore bonds was due the 1st of April. The November payment had been made with money advanced by half a dozen country banks through negotiations conducted by William Holton. On the day that Jack Holton was persuading Alec Waterman to thrust himself forward as the people's protagonist, Kirkwood was tightening the screws on the construction company. If the sum he demanded was not paid by the 1st of April, he a.s.sured Samuel Holton's former allies that criminal proceedings would be inst.i.tuted. As one of the construction crowd was just then much in the newspapers as a probable nominee for a state office, Kirkwood's determination to force a settlement on his own terms was dismaying. The bi-partisan bosses had figured altogether too much in the newspapers, and it was not pleasant to contemplate the opening of the books of the company to public gaze.

March prepared to go out like a lion in Montgomery that year. While Alec Waterman was pondering his duty to the public as brought to his attention by Jack Holton, Fate seemed to take charge of his affairs. On March 28 the whistle of the Sugar Creek Furniture Company failed to rouse the town. The Sugar Creek Company, one of the industries that Paul Fosd.i.c.k had promoted, had seemed to escape the dark fate that had pursued his other projects, so that the abruptness with which it shut down gave the local financial seismograph a severe wrench.

The factory had been one of the largest employers of labor in Montgomery, and its suspension was reported to be due to the refusal of the First National to advance money for its next maturing weekly pay-roll. To several of the workingmen who consulted Waterman about their claims, he broached the matter of a ma.s.s meeting in the circuit courtroom to discuss the business conditions of Montgomery. Two hundred men and boys were thrown out of work by the failure of the furniture company; rumors as to the relations between the company and the First National caused the stability of the Holton bank to be debated guardedly; and April 1st was fixed definitely in the minds of the Main Street gossips as the date for drastic action in Sycamore matters.

Mr. Amzi Montgomery's frequent absences in Indianapolis had occasioned comment of late. He returned, however, on the evening of the 28th, and before the "Bank Open" side of the battered tin sign was presented to Main Street on the morning of the 29th, a number of citizens had called to ask his opinion of the local financial conditions. He answered their anxious inquiries with his habitual nonchalance, leaning against the counter, with his cigar at an angle that testified to unruffled serenity and perfect peace with the world. Amzi had brought home from the capital a new standing collar, taller than he was in the habit of wearing, and from its deep recesses his countenance appeared more than usually chaste and demure. The collar, a das.h.i.+ng bow tie, and a speckled waistcoat that was the most daring expression of sartorial art available at the capital, gave to Amzi an air of uncommon jauntiness.

"What about this, Amzi? Is the whole town going to smash?" asked Judge Walters.

"Nope. Worst's over. Nothing to worry about."

"I've got to appoint a receiver for the furniture company in a few minutes. I hope I'm not going to have to run the whole town through my court."

"You won't. The Sugar Creek Furniture Company is a year behind time; I thought it would go down last year. Then they bounced Fosd.i.c.k, and it naturally picked up a little; but it's hard to overcome a bad start, Judge."

"I've politely turned over my court-room for a meeting of the furniture company employees this afternoon. Alec's going to holler; they say he's going to pitch into the traction company and dust off the banks and capital generally."

"Good for Alec! He'll do a good job of it. Shouldn't wonder if he'd lead a mob down Main Street, hanging all the merchants, bankers, and judges of courts."

"That would require more energy than Alec has; his love of the downtrodden is purely vocal."

The county treasurer who followed the judge found Amzi disposed to be facetious over the reports that other failures were likely to follow the embarra.s.sment of the furniture company.

"Worst's over. Just a little flurry. When there's a rotten apple in the barrel, better get it out."

The treasurer jerked his head in the direction of the First National.

Amzi met his gaze, took the cigar from his mouth, and looked at the ash.

"Thunder! It's all right."

"How do you know that!"

"I just guess it; that's all."

"They say," the treasurer whispered, "that Bill has skipped."

"Bill's over there in his bank right now," Amzi replied impatiently.

"How do you make that out?"

"Because I was talking to him on the 'phone ten minutes ago. If he's skipped, it must have been sudden. Tell people not to borrow trouble when they can borrow money. Money's easy on Main Street."

Amzi wobbled his cigar in his mouth the while he smoothed his new waistcoat with both hands. He was feeling good. His house was in order; failures and rumors of failures could not disturb him.

This was Sat.u.r.day, and their spring needs had brought an unusual number of farm-folk to town. The proximity of interest-paying day made an acute issue of Sycamore Traction. Amzi had by no means gathered up all the bonds held by small investors. Book learning has not diminished the husbandman's traditional incredulity: if Sycamore traction bonds were worth seventy to Amzi Montgomery, they were undoubtedly worth eighty, at least, to the confiding original purchasers. Those who had clung to their bonds were disposed to ridicule those who had sold; and yet no one was wholly comfortable, either way. The collapse of the furniture company might prelude a local panic, and farmers and country merchants collected in groups along Main Street to discuss the situation.

The Sat.u.r.day half-holiday in the various Montgomery industries added to the crowd that drifted toward the courthouse at two o'clock, drawn by the announcement that Alec Waterman was to discuss many local issues, which the failure of the furniture company had rendered acute. The circuit court-room was packed with farmers, mechanics, and the usual idlers when Waterman without introduction began to speak.