Ridgway of Montana (Story of To-Day, in Which the Hero Is Also the Villain)
Page 18
CHAPTER 18. FURTHER DEVELOPMENTS
While Harley had been in no way responsible for Pelton's murderousattack upon Yesler, public opinion held him to account. The Pinkertonswho had, up till this time, been employed at the mines, were now movedto the hotel to be ready for an emergency. A special train was held inreadiness to take the New Yorker out of the State in the event that thestockman should die. Meanwhile, the harassing attacks of Ridgwaycontinued. Through another judge than Purcell, the absurd injunctionagainst working the Diamond King, the Mary K, and the Marcus Daly hadbeen dissolved, but even this advantage had been neutralized by thenecessity of giving back to the enemy the Taurus and the New York, ofwhich he had just possessed himself. All his life he had kept awheather-eye upon the impulsive and fickle public. There were timeswhen its feeling could be abused with impunity, and other times whenthis must be respected. Reluctantly, Harley gave the word for thewithdrawal of his men from the territory gained. Ridgway pushed hisadvantage home and secured an injunction, not only against the working,but against the inspection of the Copper King and the Jim Hill. Theresult of the Consolidated move had been in effect to turn over,temporarily, its two rich mines to be looted by the pirate, and to makehim very much stronger than before with his allies, the unions. By hisown imprudence, Harley had made a bad situation worse, and deliveredhimself, with his hands tied, into the power of the enemy.
In the days of turmoil that followed, Waring Ridgway's telling blowsscored once and again. The morning after the explosion, he started arelief fund in his paper, the Sun, for the families of the dead miners,contributing two thousand dollars himself. He also insisted that theConsolidated pay damages to the bereaved families to the extent oftwenty thousand dollars for each man killed. The town rang with hispraises. Mesa had always been proud of his success; had liked thedemocratic spirit of him that led him to mix on apparently equal termswith his working men, and had backed him in his opposition to the trustbecause his plucky and unscrupulous fight had been, in a measure, itsfight. But now it idolized him. He was the buffer between it and thetrust, fighting the battles of labor against the great octopus ofBroadway, and beating it to a standstill. He was the Moses destined tolead the working man out of the Egypt of his discontent. Had he notmaintained the standard of wages and forced the Consolidated to do thesame? Had he not declared an eight-hour day, and was not the trustalmost ready to do this also, forced by the impetus his example hadgiven the unions? So Ridgway's agents whispered, and the union leaders,whom he had bought, took up the burden of their tale and preached itboth in private talk and in their speeches.
In an attempt to stem the rising tide of denunciation that wasspreading from Mesa to the country at large, Harley announced an eighthour day and an immense banquet to all the Consolidated employees incelebration of the occasion. Ten thousand men sat down to the longtables, but when one of the speakers injudiciously mentioned the nameof Ridgway, there was steady cheering for ten minutes. It was quiteplain that the miners gave him the credit for having forced theConsolidated to the eight-hour day.
The verdict of the coroner's jury was that Vance Edwards and the otherdeceased miners had come to their death at the hands of the foreman,Michael Donleavy, at the instigation of Simon Harley. True bills wereat once drawn up by the prosecuting attorney of Mesa County, anofficial elected by Ridgway, charging Harley and Donleavy withconspiracy, resulting in the murder of Vance Edwards. The billionairefurnished bail for himself and foreman, treating the indictments merelyas part of the attacks of the enemy.
The tragedy in the Taurus brought to the surface a bitterness that hadhitherto not been apparent in the contest between the rival copperinterests. The lines of division became more sharply drawn, and everybusiness man in Mesa was forced to declare himself on one side or theother. Harley scattered detectives broadcast and imported five hundredPinkertons to meet any emergency that might arise. The spies of theConsolidated were everywhere, gathering evidence against the MesaOre-producing Company, its conduct of the senatorial campaign, itsjudges, and its supporters Criminal indictments flew back and forththick as snowflakes in a Christmas storm.
It began to be noticed that an occasional foreman, superintendent, ormining engineer was slipping from the employ of Ridgway to that of thetrust, carrying secrets and evidence that would be invaluable later inthe courts. Everywhere the money of the Consolidated, scatteredlavishly where it would do the most good, attempted to sap the loyaltyof the followers of the other candidates. Even Eaton was approachedwith the offer of a bribe.
But Ridgway's potent personality had built up an esprit de corps noteasily to be broken. The adventurers gathered to his side were, for themost part, bound to him by ties personal in their nature. They werefinancial fillibusters, pledged to stand or fall together, with aninterest in their predatory leader's success that was not entirelymeasurable in dollars and cents. Nor was that leader the man to allowthe organization he had builded with such care to become disintegratedwhile he slept. His alert eye and cheery smile were everywhere,instilling confidence in such as faltered, and dread in thosecontemplating defection.
He harassed his rival with an audacity that was almost devilish in itsunexpected ingenuity. For the first time in his life Simon Harley, thetown back on the defensive by a combination of circumstances engineeredby a master brain, knew what it was to be checkmated. He had not theleast doubt of ultimate victory, but the tentative success of thebrazen young adventurer, were gall and wormwood to his soul. He hadmade money his god, had always believed it would buy anything worthwhile except life, but this Western buccaneer had taught him it couldnot purchase the love of a woman nor the immediate defeat of a man sowell armed as Waring Ridgway. In truth, though Harley stuck at nothing,his success in accomplishing the destruction of this thorn in his sidewas no more appreciable than had been that of Hobart. The Westernerheld his own and more, the while he robbed the great trust of its oreunder cover of the courts.
In the flush of success, Ridgway, through his lieutenant, Eaton, cameto Judge Purcell asking that a receiver be appointed for theConsolidated Supply Company, a subsidiary branch of the trust, on theground that its affairs were not being properly administered. TheSupply Company had paid dividends ranging from fifteen to twenty-fiveper cent for many years, but Ridgway exercised his right as astockholder to ask for a receivership. In point of fact, he owned, inthe name of Eaton, only one-tenth of one per cent of the stock, but itwas enough to serve. For Purcell was a bigoted old Missourian, ascourageous and obstinate as perfect health and ignorance could makehim. He was quite innocent of any legal knowledge, his own rule of lawbeing to hit a Consolidated head whenever he saw one. Lawyers mightargue themselves black in the face without affecting his serenity orhis justice.
Purcell granted the application, as well as a restraining order againstthe payment of dividends until further notice, and appointed Eatonreceiver over the protests of the Consolidated lawyers.
Ridgway and Eaton left the court-room together, jubilant over theirsuccess. They dined at a restaurant, and spent the evening at theore-producing company's offices, discussing ways and means. When theyhad finished, his chief followed Eaton to the doors, an arm thrownaffectionately round his shoulder.
"Steve, we're going to make a big killing. I was never so sure ofanything in my life as that we shall beat Simon Harley at his own game.We're bound to win. We've got to win."
"I wish I were as sure as you."
"It's hard pounding does it, my boy. We'll drive him out of the Montanacopper-fields yet. We'll show him there is one little corner of the U.S. where Simon Harley's orders don't go as the last word."
"He has a hundred dollars to your one."
"And I have youth and mining experience and the inside track, as wellas stancher friends than he ever dreamed of," laughed Ridgway, clappingthe other on the back. "Well, good night, Steve. Pleasant dreams, oldman."
The boyish secretary shook hands warmly. "You're a MAN, chief. Ifanybody can pull us through it will be you."
/> Triumphant confidence rang in the other's answering laugh. "You bet Ican, Steve."