Weiss unlocked and threw open the
office door, and a moment later returned with a tall,
grey-headed man, with closely cropped beard and gold-rimmed
eyeglasses. He shook hands with Vine warmly, and
nodded to Littleson.
“What, you here in the lion’s
den, Vine?” he remarked, smiling. “Be
careful or they will eat you up.”
Vine smiled.
“I am not afraid,” he
said, “especially now that you are here to support
me.”
“Mr. Vine,” Weiss said,
“shows himself possessed of our natural quality,
audacity. He is here, I frankly believe, to pick
up damaging information against us, for use the next
time he issues his thunders. We have been led
into an interesting discussion, and we have a point
to refer to you.”
John Drayton sat down and accepted
the cigar which Weiss passed him.
“Sure,” he said, “I’ll
be very pleased to join in; but you are a rash man,
Weiss, to refer to me, for you know very well my sympathies
are with Mr. Vine here. I hate you millionaires
and your Trusts, on principle of course, although
I must admit that some of you are very good fellows,
and smoke thundering good cigars,” he added,
taking his from his mouth for a moment and looking
at it.
“I don’t care,”
Weiss answered. “The point I want you to
decide scarcely calls upon your sympathies so much
as your judgment. We were imagining a case in
which say half a dozen men, who held the position of
myself and Phineas Duge and Littleson here, I think
I might say the half-dozen most powerful men in America,
were suddenly, without a moment’s warning, to
lose in the eyes of the whole of the public every
scrap of character and stability, were to be threatened
with absolute ruin, and a term of imprisonment for
misdemeanour. What would be the effect upon this
country for the next forty-eight hours or so?”
John Drayton removed his cigar from his mouth.
“The one reason,” he said
impressively, “why I hate your Trusts, why I
loathe to see all the power of this country gathered
together in the hands of a few men such as you have
mentioned, is that, in the event of such a happening
as you have put forth, the country would have to face
a crisis that would mean ruin to hundreds of thousands
of her innocent people.” Then for the first
time during this interview Weiss’ full round
lips receded in a smile. His spectacles could
not hide the flash of triumph that leapt out.
He turned to Vine.
“You hear?” he said simply.
“Yes, I hear!” Norris Vine answered.
“Of course,” John Drayton
continued, “I do not know how you drifted into
a conversation such as this, but in my last article
in the North American Review, which Mr. Vine
here will probably remember, I took the case of even
a single man controlling one of the huge mercantile
Trusts in this country, and tried to show what would
happen to the small investors in a perfectly sound
undertaking should a collapse happen to a holder of
shares to this excessive extent. It is a painful
thing to have to confess, but there is no doubt that
it exists. We Americans are a great commercial
people, and the dollar fever runs a little too hotly
in our blood. We stretch out our hands too far.
Vine, I know, agrees with me.”
“Yes,” Vine answered, “I agree with
you!”
He rose to his feet. John Drayton followed his
example.
“My business is really concluded,”
he remarked. “I had to see your manager
on behalf of a client of mine. Are you coming
my way, Vine? I am going to the club.”
“I will follow you in a few minutes,”
Vine answered.
John Drayton went out, and once more the three men
were alone.
“You see, Mr. Vine,” Weiss
said slowly, “this isn’t the country or
the age for Don Quixotes. Fight against our Trusts
and our monetary system with all your eloquence, if
you will, but don’t tamper with things you don’t
understand, or you may do harm where you meant to do
good. Now what can we say to you about that document?”
“I am not prepared,” Vine
said, rising, “to come to any definite decision
at this moment. Frankly, I want to use it so as
to do you the greatest possible amount of harm.
On the other hand, I never contemplated any such developments
as you and John Drayton have suggested. I am
going to think this matter over.”
“We are open enemies,”
Weiss said, “and there is no reason why we should
not respect one another as such. We ask you to
abide by the ways of civilized warfare. Don’t
strike without a word, at any rate, of warning.
It will be in the interests of others, as well as ourselves.”
“Very well,” Vine said. “I
promise that.”
He left the office without any further
word, without shaking hands with either of the two
men. Weiss sat down in his seat, and Littleson,
who was trembling all over, came to his side.
“Stephen,” he said, “you’re
a great man. Come right along out of this and
go to Parker’s and have a bottle. My nerves
are all on the twitch.”
Weiss rose and put on his hat.
The two men left the office together, and climbed
into Littleson’s automobile.
Vine walked thoughtfully down to his
club. Amongst the letters which the hall-porter
handed to him was one from Stella. He tore it
open and read it standing there.
“My dear Norris,” it began,
“Events have been marching a
little too rapidly for me lately, and I am going away.
I cannot stand New York any longer. Fifth Avenue
gives me the horrors, and I am afraid to open an American
paper. Besides, there are other things, to which
I need not allude, which make me think that it would
perhaps be better for me to take a journey. You
will see from where I am writing I am on board the
Kaiser Wilhelm. Where I shall go to in
Europe, or what I shall do, I am not sure. I am
not sure either that it would interest you to know.
You are very absorbed in your profession, and I do
not think that the things outside it mean much to
you. I suppose that is the usual fate of us women.
We are always willing to give, and we make no bargains.
Don’t think that I am reproaching you, only
I have made America an impossible place for me just
now. I could not bear to see that poor little
cousin of mine, with her big reproachful eyes.
Nor if you fill your purpose, and the storm comes,
do I care to feel that I am responsible for the trouble
which must surely follow.
“Good-bye, Norris! I wish
you every sort of good fortune, and if I dared I would
say that I wish you a little more heart, a little more
understanding, and a little more gratitude!
“Stella.”
He folded the letter up and placed
it carefully in his coat pocket. Then he went
off into the reading-room in search of John Drayton.
Life did not seem to him so absolutely simple a thing
now, as a few hours ago.