CHAPTER 19. ONE MILLION DOLLARS
Eaton, standing on the street curb at the corner of the RidgwayBuilding, lit a cigar while he hesitated between his rooms and theclub. He decided for the latter, and was just turning up the hill, whena hand covered his mouth and an arm was flung around his neck in astranglehold. He felt himself lifted like a child, and presentlydiscovered that he was being whirled along the street in a closedcarriage.
"You needn't be alarmed, Mr. Eaton. We're not going to injure you inthe least," a low voice explained in his ear. "If you'll give me yourword not to cry out, I'll release your throat."
Eaton nodded a promise, and, when he could find his voice, demanded:"Where are you taking me?"
"You'll see in a minute, sir. It's all right."
The carriage turned into an alley and stopped. Eaton was led to aladder that hung suspended from the fire-escape, and was bidden tomount. He did so, following his guide to the second story, and being inturn followed by the other man. He was taken along a corridor and intothe first of a suite of rooms opening into it. He knew he was in theMesa House, and suspected at once that he was in the apartments ofSimon Harley.
His suspicion ripened to conviction when his captors led him throughtwo more rooms, into one fitted as an office. The billionaire sat at adesk, busy over some legal papers he was reading, but he rose at onceand came forward with hand extended to meet Eaton. The young man tookhis hand mechanically.
"Glad to have the pleasure of talking with, you, Mr. Eaton. You mustaccept my apologies for my methods of securing a meeting. They arerather primitive, but since you declined to call and see me, I can holdonly you to blame." An acid smile touched his lips for a moment, thoughhis eyes were expressionless as a wall. "Mr. Eaton, I have brought youhere in this way to have a confidential talk with you, in order that itmight not in any way reflect upon you in case we do not come to anarrangement satisfactory to both of us. Your friends cannot justlyblame you for this conference, since you could not avoid it. Mr. Eaton,take a chair."
The wills of the two men flashed into each other's eyes like rapiers.The weaker man knew what was before him and braced himself to meet it.He would not sit down. He would not discuss anything. So he toldhimself once and again to hold himself steady against the impulse togive way to those imperious eyes behind which was the impassive,compelling will.
"Sit down, Mr. Eaton."
"I'll stand, Mr. Harley."
"SIT DOWN."
The cold jade eyes were not to be denied. Eaton's gaze fell sullenly,and he slid into a chair.
"I'll discuss no business except in the presence of Mr. Ridgway," hesaid doggedly, falling back to his second line of defenses.
"To the contrary, my business is with you and not with Mr. Ridgway."
"I know of no business you can have with me."
"Wherefore I have brought you here to acquaint you with it."
The young man lifted his head reluctantly and waited. If he had beenwilling to confess it to himself, he feared greatly this ruthlessspoiler who had built up the greatest fortune in the world fromthousands of wrecked lives. He felt himself choking, just as if thoseskeleton fingers had been at his throat, but he promised himself neverto yield.
The fathomless, dominant gaze caught and held his eyes. "Mr. Eaton, Icame here to crush Ridgway. I am going to stay here till I do. I'mgoing to wipe him from the map of Montana--ruin him so utterly that hecan never recover. It has been my painful duty to do this with ahundred men as strong and as confident as he is. After undertaking suchan enterprise, I have never faltered and never relented. The men I haveruined were ruined beyond hope of recovery. None of them have everstruggled to their feet again. I intend to make Waring Ridgway apauper."
Stephen Eaton could have conceived nothing more merciless than thisman's callous pronouncement, than the calm certainty of hisunemphasized words. He started to reply, but Harley took the words outof his mouth.
"Don't make a mistake. Don't tie to the paltry successes he has gained.I have not really begun to fight yet."
The young man had nothing to say. His heart was water. He acceptedHarley's words as true, for he had told himself the same thing ahundred times. Why had Ridgway rejected the overtures of this colossusof finance? It had been the sheerest folly born of madness to supposethat anybody could stand against him.
"For Ridgway, the die is cast," the iron voice went on. "He is doomedbeyond hope. But there is still a chance for you. What do you consideryour interest in the Mesa Ore-producing Company worth, Mr. Eaton?"
The sudden question caught Eaton with the force of a surprise. "Aboutthree hundred thousand dollars," he heard himself say; and it seemed tohim that his voice was speaking the words without his volition.
"I'm going to buy you out for twice that sum. Furthermore, I'm going totake care of your future--going to see that you have a chance to rise."
The waverer's will was in flux, but the loyalty in him still protested."I can't desert my chief, Mr. Harley."
"Do you call it desertion to leave a raging madman in a sinking boatafter you have urged him to seek the safety of another ship?"
"He made me what I am."
"And I will make you ten times what you are. With Ridgway you have nochance to be anything but a subordinate. He is the Mesa Ore-producingCompany, and you are merely a cipher. I offer your individuality achance. I believe in you, and know you to be a strong man." No ironicsmile touched Harley's face at this statement. "You need a chance, andI offer it to you. For your own sake take it."
Every grievance Eaton had ever felt against his chief came trooping tohis mind. He was domineering. He did ride rough-shod over his allies'opinions and follow the course he had himself mapped out. All the gloryof the victory he absorbed as his due. In the popular opinion, Eatonwas as a farthing-candle to a great electric search-light in comparisonwith Ridgway.
"He trusts me," the tempted man urged weakly. He was slipping, and heknew it, even while he assured himself he would never betray his chief.
"He would sell you out to-morrow if it paid him. And what is he but arobber? Every dollar of his holdings is stolen from me. I ask onlyrestitution of you--and I propose to buy at twice, nay at three times,the value of your stolen property. You owe that freebooter no loyalty."
"I can't do it. I can't do it."
"You shall do it." Harley dominated him as bullying schoolmaster does acringing boy under the lash.
"I can't do it," the young man repeated, all his weak will flung intothe denial.
"Would you choose ruin?"
"Perhaps. I don't know," he faltered miserable.
"It's merely a business proposition, young man. The stock you have tosell is valuable to-day. Reject my offer, and a month from now it willbe quoted on the market at half its present figure, and go begging atthat. It will be absolutely worthless before I finish. You are notselling out Ridgway. He is a ruined man, anyway. But you--I am going tosave you in spite of yourself. I am going to shake you from thatrobber's clutches."
Eaton got to his feet, pallid and limp as a rag. "Don't tempt me," hecried hoarsely. "I tell you I can't do it, sir."
Harley's cold eye did not release him for an instant. "One milliondollars and an assured future, or--absolute, utter ruin, complete andfinal."
"He would murder me--and he ought to," groaned the writhing victim.
"No fear of that. I'll put you where he can't reach you. Just sign yourname to this paper, Mr. Eaton."
"I didn't agree. I didn't say I would."
"Sign here. Or, wait one moment, till I get witnesses." Harley toucheda bell, and his secretary appeared in the doorway. "Ask Mr. Mott andyoung Jarvis to step this way."
Harley held out the pen toward Eaton, looking steadily at him. In astrong man the human eye is a sword among weapons. Eaton quailed. Thefingers of the unhappy wretch went out mechanically for the pen. He wassweating terror and remorse, but the essential weakness of the mancould not stand out unbacked against the masterful force of this man'simpe
rious will. He wrote his name in the places directed, and flungdown the pen like a child in a rage.
"Now get me out of Montana before Ridgway knows," he cried brokenly.
"You may leave to-morrow night, Mr. Eaton. You'll only have to appearin court once personally. We'll arrange it quietly for to-morrowafternoon. Ridgway won't know until it is done and you are gone."
Ridgway of Montana (Story of To-Day, in Which the Hero Is Also the Villain) Page 19