V
JOURNEYS END--
It had been a day of upsettings for David Kent, beginning with the latebreakfast at which Neltje, the night watchman at the railway station, hadbrought him Penelope's telegram.
At ten he had a case in court: Shotwell _vs_. Western Pacific Co., damagesfor stock-killing; for the plaintiff--Hawk; for the defendant--Kent. Withthe thought that he was presently going to see Elinor again, Kent wentgaily to the battle legal, meaning to wring victory out of a jury drawnfor the most part from the plaintiff's stock-raising neighbors. By dint ofgreat perseverance he managed to prolong the fight until the middle of theafternoon, was worsted, as usual, and so far lost his temper as to gethimself called down by the judge, MacFarlane.
Whereupon he went back to the Farquhar Building and to his office and satdown at the type-writer to pound out a letter to the general counsel,resigning his sinecure. The Shotwell case was the third he had lost forthe company in a single court term. Justice for the railroad company,under present agrarian conditions, was not to be had in the lower courts,and he was weary of fighting the losing battle. Therefore----
In the midst of the type-rattling the boy that served the few occupiedoffices in the Farquhar Building had brought the afternoon mail. Itincluded a letter from Loring, and there was another reversive upheavalfor the exile. Loring's business at the capital was no longer a secret. Hehad been tendered the resident management of the Western Pacific, withheadquarters on the ground, and had accepted. His letter was a brief note,asking Kent to report at once for legal duty in the larger field.
"I am not fairly in the saddle yet, and shall not be for a week or so,"wrote the newly appointed manager. "But I find I am going to need alevel-headed lawyer at my elbow from the jump--one who knows the Statepolitical ropes and isn't afraid of a scrap. Come in on Number Threeto-day, if you can; if not, send a wire and say when I may look for you.Or, better still, wire anyway."
David Kent struggled with his emotions until he had got his feet down tothe solid earth again. Then he tore up the half-written resignation andbegan to smite things in order for the flight. Could he make Number Three?Since that was the train named in Penelope's message, nothing short of acatastrophe should prevent his making it.
He did make it, with an hour to spare; an hour which he proceeded to turninto a time of sharp trial for the patient telegraph operator at thestation, with his badgerings of the man for news of Number Three. Thetrain reported--he took it as a special miracle wrought in his behalf thatthe Flyer was for this once abreast of her schedule--he fell to trampingup and down the long platform, deep in anticipative prefigurings. Themills of the years grind many grists besides the trickling stream of thehours: would he find Miss Brentwood as he had left her? Could he be sureof meeting her on the frank, friendly footing of the Croydon summer? Hefeared not; feared all things--lover-like.
He hoped there would be no absence-reared barrier to be painfully leveled.A man among men, a leader in some sort, and in battle a soldier who couldhew his way painstakingly, if not dramatically, to his end, David Kent wasno carpet knight, and he knew his lack. Would Elinor make things easy forhim, as she used to daily in the somewhat difficult social atmosphere ofthe exclusive summer hotel?
Measuring it out in all its despairing length and breadth after the fact,he was deeply grateful to Penelope. Missing her ready help at the momentof cataclysms when he entered the sleeping-car, he might have betrayedhimself. His first glance lighted on Elinor and Ormsby, and he needed nogloss on the love-text. He had delayed too long; had asked too much of theFates, and Atropos, the scissors-bearing sister, had snipped his thread ofhope.
It is one of the consequences of civilization that we are denied theprivilege of unmasking at the behest of the elemental emotions; that weare constrained to bleed decorously. Making shift to lean heavily onPenelope, Kent came through without doing or saying anything unseemly.Mrs. Brentwood, who had been sleeping with one eye open, and that eye uponElinor and Ormsby, made sure that she had now no special reason to beungracious to David Kent. For the others, Ormsby was good-naturedly suave;Elinor was by turns unwontedly kind and curiously silent; andPenelope--but, as we say, it was to Penelope that Kent owed most.
So it came about that the outcome of the cataclysm was a thing whichhappens often enough in a conventionalized world. David Kent, with histragedy fresh upon him, dropped informally into place as one of the partyof five; and of all the others, Penelope alone suspected how hard he washit. And when all was said; when the new _modus vivendi_ had been fairlyestablished and the hour grew late, Kent went voluntarily with Ormsby tothe smoking-compartment, "to play the string out decently," as heafterward confessed to Loring.
"I see you know how to get the most comfort out of your tobacco," said theclub-man, when they were companionably settled in the men's room and Kentproduced his pipe and tobacco pouch. "I prefer the pipe myself, for asteady thing; but at this time of night a light Castilla fits me prettywell. Try one?" tendering his cigar-case.
Fighting shrewdly against a natural prompting to regard Ormsby as anhereditary enemy, Kent forced himself to be neighborly.
"I don't mind," he said, returning the pipe to its case. And when theHavanas were well alight, and the talk had circled down upon the politicalsituation in the State, he was able to bear his part with a fair exterior,giving Ormsby an impressionistic outline of the late campaign and theconditions that had made the sweeping triumph of the People's Partypossible.
"We have been coming to it steadily through the last administration, and apart of the preceding one," he explained. "Last year the drought cut thecereals in half, and the country was too new to stand it withoutborrowing. There was little local capital, and the eastern article washungry, taking all the interest the law allows, and as much more as itcould get. This year the crop broke all records for abundance, but theprice is down and the railroads, trying to recoup for two bad years, havestiffened the freight rates. The net result is our political overturn."
"Then the railroads and the corporations are not primarily to blame?" saidOrmsby.
"Oh, no. Corporations here, as elsewhere, are looking out for the presentdollar, but if the country were generally prosperous, the people would paythe tax carelessly, as they do in the older sections. With us it has beena sort of Donnybrook Fair: the agricultural voter has shillalahed the headhe could reach most easily."
The New Yorker nodded. His millions were solidly placed, and he took nomore than a sportsman's interest in the fluctuations of the stock market.
"Of course, there have been all sorts of rumors East: 'bull' propheciesthat the triumph of the new party means an era of unexampled prosperityfor the State--and by consequence for western stocks; 'bear' growlingsthat things are sure to go to the bow-wows under the Bucks regime. What doyou think of it?"
Kent blew a series of smoke rings and watched them rise to become a partof the stratified tobacco cloud overhead before replying.
"I may as well confess that I am not entirely an unprejudiced observer,"he admitted. "For one thing, I am in the legal department of one of thebest-hated of the railroads; and for another, Governor Bucks, Meigs, theattorney-general, and Hendricks, the new secretary of State, are men whomI know as, it is safe to say, the general public doesn't know them. If Icould be sure that these three men are going to be able to control theirown party majority in the Assembly, I should take the first train East andmake my fortune selling tips in Wall Street."
"You put it graphically. Then the Bucks idea is likely to prove adisturbing element on 'Change?"
"It is; always providing it can dominate its own majority. But this is byno means certain. The political earthquake is essentially a popularprotest against hard conditions brought about, as the voters seem tobelieve, by the oppressions of the alien corporations and extortionaterailroad rates. Yet there are plenty of steady-going, conservative men inthe movement; men who have no present idea of revolutionizing things.Marston, the lieutenant-governor, is one of that kind. It all
depends onwhether these men will allow themselves to be whipped into line by theleaders, who, as I am very well convinced, are a set of consciencelessdemagogues, fighting solely for their own hand."
Ormsby nodded again.
"You are likely to have good hunting this winter, Mr. Kent. It hasn'tbegun yet, I take it?"
"Oh, no; the Assembly does not convene for a fortnight, and nobody shortof an inspired prophet can foretell what legislation will be sprung. Butone thing is safe to count on: the leaders are out for spoils. They meanto rob somebody, and, if my guess is worth anything, they are sharp enoughto try first to get their schemes legalized by having enabling laws passedby the Assembly."
"Um," said the eastern man. Then he took the measure of his companion in ashrewd overlook. "You are the man on the ground, Mr. Kent, and I'll ask astraightforward question. If you had a friend owning stock in one of theinvolved railways, what would you advise?"
Kent smiled.
"We needn't make it a hypothetical case. If I had the right to advise Mrs.Brentwood and her daughters, I should counsel them to sit tight in theboat for the present."
"Would you? But Western Pacific has gone off several points already."
"I know it has; and unfortunately, Mrs. Brentwood bought in at the top ofthe market. That is why I counsel delay. If she sells now, she is sure tolose. If she holds on, there is an even chance for a spasmodic upwardreaction before worse things happen."
"Perhaps: you know more about the probabilities than I pretend to. But onthe other hand, she may lose more if she holds on."
Kent bit deep into his cigar.
"We must see to it that she doesn't lose, Mr. Ormsby."
The club-man laughed broadly.
"Isn't that a good bit like saying that the shallop must see to it thatthe wind doesn't blow too hard for it?"
"Possibly. But in the sorriest wreck there is usually some small chancefor salvage. I understand Mrs. Brentwood's holding is not very large?"
"A block of some three thousand shares, held jointly by her and her twodaughters, I believe."
"Exactly: not enough to excite anybody's cupidity; and yet enough to turnthe scale if there should ever be a fight for a majority control."
"There is no such fight in prospect, is there?"
"No; not that I know of. But I was thinking of the possibilities. If asmash comes there will be a good deal of horse-swapping in the middle ofthe stream--buying up of depressed stocks by people who need the linesworse than the original owners do."
"I see," said Ormsby. "Then you would counsel delay?"
"I should; and I'll go a step farther. I am on the inside, in a way, andany hint I can give you for Miss--for Mrs. Brentwood's benefit shall bepromptly forthcoming."
"By Jove! that's decent," said Ormsby, heartily. "You are a friend worthhaving, Mr. Kent. But which 'inside' do you mean--the railroad or thepolitical?"
"Oh, the railroad, of course. And while I think of it, my office will bein the Quintard Building; and you--I suppose you will put up at theWellington?"
"For the present, we all shall. It is Mrs. Brentwood's notion to take afurnished house later on for herself and daughters, if she can find one.I'll keep in touch with you."
"Do. It may come to a bit of quick wiring when our chance arrives. Youknow Loring--Grantham Loring?"
"Passably well. I came across him one summer in the mountains of Peru,where he was managing a railroad. He is a mighty good sort. I had mountainfever, and he took me in and did for me."
"He is with us now," said David Kent; "the newly appointed general managerof the Western Pacific."
"Good!" said the club-man "I think a lot of him; he is an all-arounddependable fellow, and plenty capable. I'm glad to know he has caught onhigher up."
The locomotive whistle was droning again, and a dodging procession ofred-eyed switch-lights flicked past the windows. Kent stood up and flungaway the stump of his cigar.
"The capital," he announced. "I'll go back with you and help out with theshawl-strap things." And in the vestibule he added: "I spoke of Loringbecause he will be with us in anything we have to do in Mrs. Brentwood'sbehalf. Look him up when you have time--fourth floor of the Quintard."
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