Theodore Dreiser - The Stoic

He noted Berenice exultingly admiring the beauties of this place. Unconscious of his thoughts, she was already wondering to herself about Lord Stane. He could not be very old, as she had heard that he had only recently come into these great properties of his father’s. However, she was chiefly arrested by the social character of the neighborhood, as described by Mr. Warburton. For in the immediate vicinity dwelt Mr. Arthur Garfield Wriothesley Gole, of the Queen’s bench; Sir Heberman Kipes, of the Consolidated British Tiles & Patterns Company; the Honorable Runciman Maynes, of the Secretariat for the Colonies; together with various other Sir Bigwigs and Sir Littlewigs and hostesses of title and achievement. Cowperwood was likewise interested by all this, and wondered what Berenice and her mother were likely to make of it. During the spring and summer here, she now pointed out, there would be house parties, garden parties, and country reunions of London city groups in politics, government, the arts, and society, so that with proper introductions one’s days and nights might be filled.

“In fact,” commented Cowperwood at this point, “altogether an atmosphere in which one could rise or sink, and that most swiftly and fatefully either way.”

“Quite!” said Berenice. “But one in which I should try to rise.”

He was once more captivated by her optimism and courage.

And then the agent, who had gone over to examine the hedges, returned, and Cowperwood now addressed him.

“I have just advised Miss Fleming,” he said, without a previous word to Berenice, “that she and her mother have my permission to lease this place, if they choose. You may send the necessary papers to my solicitor. A mere formality, but a part of my legal duty as Miss Fleming’s guardian, you know.”

“Certainly, I understand, Mr. Cowperwood,” said the agent. “But it will be a few days before the papers are ready, possibly not before next Monday or Tuesday, as Lord Stane’s agent, Mr. Bailey, will not be back before then.”

Cowperwood was somewhat gratified to learn that Stane did not trouble with his own renting details. That would keep his name out of it for the present, anyway. As for the future, he could not help wondering a little. . . .

Cowperwood’s tour of the undergrounds, with Sippens as his guide, having confirmed his opinion as to the importance of securing the Charing Cross franchise as his initial move, he was looking forward with interest to the interview with Greaves and Henshaw in his office this morning. It was Greaves who took the lead in the opening conversation.

“We want to know, Mr. Cowperwood,” he began, “if you are willing to take a 51 per cent interest in the Charing Cross line, provided we undertake to raise proportionately the amount necessary to build the line.”

“Proportionately?” queried Cowperwood. “It depends on what you mean by that. If the line should cost £1,000,000 do you guarantee to furnish approximately £450,000?”

“Well,” said Greaves, somewhat hesitantly, “not directly out of our own pockets. We have some connections which might join us in furnishing it.”

“You didn’t appear to have any such connections when I saw you in New York,” said Cowperwood, “and since then I have decided that £30,000 for a 51-per-cent interest in a company which has only a franchise and some debts, is my limit. There are too many companies with rights, and nothing else, going begging here, as it is. I have had time to find that out. If you are coming to me with a positive guarantee of the £450,000 which the building of 49 per cent of this line is likely to cost, I might be interested. But since you are merely waiting to have me agree to take 51 per cent so that on the strength of that you may be able to raise your 49 per cent, I can’t see it. You have really only your rights to offer. Under the circumstances, I must ask for a full control or nothing. For it is only with full control that I will be able to raise the very large amount of money it is going to take to do this. And no one should know that better than you two gentlemen. Therefore, unless you can see your way clear to take my final offer—which is £30,000 for your option, together with a continuance of your contract to build—I cannot give the matter any further thought.”

Whereupon he took out his watch, a gesture which confirmed a suspicion in the minds of both Greaves and Henshaw that unless they decided here and now, this was the end. They looked at each other questioningly, and then Henshaw spoke:

“Assuming that we sell you this complete control, Mr. Cowperwood, what guarantee have we that you would immediately proceed with the building of this line? For if we do not get the construction work out of it within a reasonable time, I cannot see that we are getting anything.”

“I feel the same way as my partner does,” said Greaves.

“As to that,” said Cowperwood, “you need have no fear. I would be perfectly willing to write into any contract we may draw that unless the money for the construction of the first division line is furnished within six months after signing, the agreement is not only canceled, but I agree to pay you £10,000 by way of damages. Is that satisfactory?”

The two contractors stared at each other again. They had heard that Cowperwood was shrewd and cold where money was concerned, but they also had heard that he held to his signed contracts.

“Well and good! That sounds reasonable enough. But what about the other divisions?” This from Greaves.

Cowperwood laughed. “Well, gentlemen, I am just disposing of two-thirds of the entire street railway system of Chicago. In the last twenty years in that city I have built thirty-five miles of elevated roads, forty-six miles of electric slot traction lines, and I have built and am now profitably operating seventy-five miles of suburban trolley lines, in all of which I am the majority owner. In connection with these, no investor has ever lost a dime. They have paid, and are paying to this day, more than 6 per cent, and they still belong to me. It is not because they are not profitable that I am disposing of them—and at a profit—but because of political and social jealousies which are irritating to me.

“And, furthermore, it isn’t because I need the money that I am bothering with this London situation. You mustn’t forget that it was you who came to me, not I to you. But never mind that. I am not boasting, and don’t wish to. As to these additional sections, the time and the money for each one can be written into the contract, only, as you must know from experience, all must be subject to the natural delays and contingencies which are always likely to affect such things. The principal point is that I am willing now to put up the cash for your option and to do all of the things subsequently that the contract requires.”

“What do you say?” asked Greaves, turning to Henshaw. “I am satisfied that we will do as well with Mr. Cowperwood as with anyone.”

“Very well,” said Henshaw, “I’m ready.”

“How do you propose to go about the matter of this transfer?” asked Cowperwood. “As I understand it, you must take up your option with the Traffic Electrical Company before you can transfer it to me.”

“That’s true,” replied Henshaw, who had already been speculating as to this. If now they were first to deal directly with the Traffic Electrical Company and subsequently with Cowperwood, it would mean that they not only would have to secure from somewhere the £30,000 with which to take up their option, but, in addition, temporarily, at least, would have to borrow £60,000 to effect the transfer of the consols which the Traffic Electrical Company had deposited with the government for performance of their obligation.