Harris-Ingram Experiment

by Charles E. Bolton

  CHAPTER I

  THE HARRISES IN NEW YORK

  It was five o'clock in the afternoon, when a bright little messenger boyin blue touched the electric button of Room No. ---- in Carnegie Studio,New York City. At once the door flew open and a handsome young artistreceived a Western Union telegram, and quickly signed his name, "AlfonsoH. Harris" in the boy's book.

  "Here, my boy, is twenty-five cents," he said, and tore open the message,which read as follows:--

  Harrisville,--.

  _Alfonso H. Harris, Carnegie Studio, New York._

  We reach Grand Central Depot at 7:10 o'clock tomorrow evening in our new private car Alfonso. Family greetings; all well.

  Reuben Harris.

  Alfonso put the telegram in his pocket, completed packing his steamertrunk, wrote a letter to his landlord, enclosing a check for the lastquarter's rent, and ran downstairs and over to the storage company, toleave an order to call for two big trunks of artist's belongings, notneeded in Europe.

  A hansom-cab took him to the Windsor Hotel, where he almost forgot to payhis barber for a shave, such was his excitement. A little dry toast, twosoft boiled eggs, and a cup of coffee were quite sufficient, since hisappetite, usually very good, somehow had failed him.

  It was now fifteen minutes to seven o'clock. In less than half an hourAlfonso was to meet his father, mother, and sisters, and after a few daysin the metropolis, join them in an extended journey over the BritishIsles, and possibly through portions of Europe.

  Alfonso was the only son of Reuben Harris, a rich manufacturer of ironand steel. His father, a man naturally of very firm will, had earnestlylonged that his only son might succeed him in business, and so increaseand perpetuate a fortune already colossal. It was a terrible struggle forHarris senior to yield to his son's strong inclination to study art, butonce the father had been won over, no doubt in part by the mother'sstrong love for her only boy, he assured Alfonso that he would be loyalto him, so long as his son was loyal to his profession. This had giventhe boy courage, and he had improved every opportunity while in New Yorkto acquaint himself with art, and his application to study had been suchthat he was not only popular with his fellow artists, but they recognizedthat he possessed great capacity for painstaking work.

  Alfonso jumped into a coupe, having ordered a carriage to follow him tothe Grand Central Station. It was ten minutes yet before the express wasdue. Nervously he puffed at his unlighted cigar, wishing he had a match;in fact, his nerves were never more unstrung. It was a happy surprise,and no doubt his youthful vanity was elated, that his father should havenamed his new palace car "Alfonso." At least it convinced him that hisfather was loyal.

  As the coupe stopped, he rushed into the station, just in time to see thefamous engine No. 999 pull in. She was on time to a second, as indicatedby the great depot clock. A ponderous thing of life; the steam and airvalves closed, yet her heavy breathing told of tremendous reserve power.What a record she had made, 436-1/2 miles in 425-3/4 minutes! Truly,man's most useful handiwork, to be surpassed only by the practical dynamoon wheels! It was not strange that the multitude on the platform gazed inwonder.

  There at the rear of the train was the "Alfonso," and young Harris incompany with his artist friend, Leo, who by appointment had also hastenedto the station, stepped quickly back to meet the occupants of the newcar.

  First to alight was Jean, valet to the Harris family. Jean was born nearParis and could speak French, German, and several other languages. Hishands and arms were full to overflowing of valises, hat boxes, shawls,canes, etc., that told of a full purse, but which are the very thingsthat make traveling a burden.

  By this time Alfonso had climbed the car steps and was in his mother'sarms. Mrs. Harris was more fond, if possible, of her only son than of herbeautiful daughters. She was a handsome woman herself, loved dress andwas proud of the Harris achievements. Alfonso kissed his sisters, Lucilleand Gertrude, and shook hands warmly with his father, who was busy givinginstructions to his car conductor.

  Alfonso in his joy had almost forgotten his friend Leo, but apologizing,he introduced him, first to his mother, then to Gertrude and finally tohis sister Lucille, and their father. All seemed glad to meet their son'sfriend, as he was to take passage in the same steamer for his home nearRome.

  Leo Colonna was connected with the famous Colonna family of Italy. Fromchildhood he had had access to the best schools and galleries of hispeninsular country. He also had studied under the best masters in Parisand Berlin, and was especially fond of flesh coloring and portraitpainting. He had studied anatomy, and had taken a diploma as surgeon inthe best medical college in Vienna, merely that he might know the humanform. Alfonso, aware of all this, had invited Leo to join their party inmaking the tour over Ireland, England, and through the Netherlands.

  As Lucille left the car, Leo offered aid, taking her blue silk umbrellawith its wounded-oak handle, the whole rolled as small as a cane. Lucillenever appeared to better advantage. She was tall, slender, and graceful.Excitement had tinged her cheeks and lips, and her whole face had achild's smooth, pink complexion. Wavy black hair and blue eyes revealedthe Irish blood that had come from the mother's veins. She wore atraveling suit of navy-blue serge. Her hat, of latest style, was made ofblack velvet, steel ornaments, and ostrich tips. What artist could resistadmiring a woman so fair and commanding! The dark eyes of Leo had metthose of Lucille, and he at once had surrendered. In fact, a formidablerival had now conquered Leo's heart.

  Together they led the way to the front entrance of the station, whileHarris senior delayed a moment to exhibit the car "Alfonso" to his son."I had this private car built," said the father, "that the Harris familymight be exclusive. Napoleon once said:--'Let me be seen but three timesat the theatre, and I shall no longer excite attention.' Our car isadapted for service on any standard gauge road, so that we can travel inprivacy throughout the United States. You notice that this observationroom is furnished in quartered English oak, and has a luxurious sofa andarm chairs. Let us step back. Here on the right are state and familyrooms finished in mahogany; each room has a connecting toilet room,with wash stand and bath room, hot and cold water being provided, alsomirrors, wardrobe and lockers. The parlor or dining room is eighteen feetlong and the extension table will seat twelve persons. Here also is awell selected library and writing desk."

  "But where is the kitchen?" asked Alfonso.

  "Beyond," said the father. "The pantry, china closet, and kitchen arefinished in black walnut. Blankets, linen, and tableware are of bestquality. Here are berths for attendants and porter's room for baggage.Carpets, rugs, draperies, and upholstery were especially imported toharmonize. Nobody amounts to much in these days, Alfonso, unless he ownsa private car or a steam yacht. Henceforth this car, named in your honor,may play an important part in the history of the Harris family."

  Mrs. Harris, Leo, and Lucille, took seats in the carriage; Gertrude andher mother were on the back seat, while Lucille and her artist friendfaced Mrs. Harris and daughter.

  Jean sat upright with the coachman. Colonel Harris and Alfonso rejoinedtheir friends and together entered the coupe. Reuben Harris once servedon the governor's staff for seven weeks, ranking as colonel, so now allhis friends, even his family, spoke of him as "the Colonel." It was well,as it pleased his vanity.

  The coachmen's whips left their sockets, and coupe and carriage dashedalong 42nd Street and down Fifth Avenue. The ten minutes' drive passed asa dream to some in the carriage. Mrs. Harris's mind revelled in theintricate warfare of society. She had often been in New York, and inthe summers was seen at the most fashionable watering places with herchildren. Her mind was burdened trying to discover the steps that lead tothe metropolitan and international "four hundred." She was determinedthat her children should marry into well regulated families, and that thecolonel should have a national reputation. So absorbed was she that hereyes saw not, neither did her ears hear what transpired in the carriage.Gertrude was equally quiet; her thoughts were of d
ear friends she hadleft in Harrisville. The occupants of the front seats had talked in lowtones of recent society events in New York, and a little of art. Lucilleherself had dabbled in color for a term or two in a fashionable school onthe Back Bay in Boston.

  The colonel had become enthusiastic in his talk about his own recentbusiness prosperity. Suddenly coupe and carriage stopped in front of themain entrance of the Hotel Waldorf. How fine the detail of arch andcolumns! How delicate the architect's touch of iron and glass in theporte-cochere!

  The Harris family stepped quickly into the public reception-room to theleft of the main entrance adjoining the office, leaving Jean and theporter to bring the hand-baggage. The decorated ceiling framed a centralgroup of brilliant incandescent lights with globes. Leo directedattention to the paintings on the walls, and furniture and rugs.

  The colonel excused himself and passed out and into the main offices. Thesight about him was an inspiring one. The architect's wand had wroughtgrace and beauty in floor, ceiling, column, and wall. Gentlemen, old andyoung, were coming and going. Professional men, not a few, bankers andbusiness men jostled each other. Before the colonel had reached theclerk's desk, he had apologized, twice at least, for his haste. The factwas that metropolitan activity delighted his heart, but it disturbed justa little his usual good behavior. Nervously, he wrote in the Waldorfregister plain Reuben Harris, wife and two daughters. He wanted to prefixcolonel. His son added his own name. Colonel Harris, at his request, wasgiven the best apartments in the Waldorf.

  Leo excused himself for the night, Lucille saying the last words in lowtones, and then, liveried attendants conducted the Harris family to theirsuite of rooms. It was half past eight when the Harrises sat down totheir first meal in their private dining-room. As Mrs. Harris waited forher hot clam soup to cool a little, she said, "Reuben, this exclusivenessand elegance is quite to my liking. After our return from Europe, whycan't we all spend our winters in New York?"

  "No, mother," said Gertrude, "we have our duties to the people ofHarrisville, and father, I am sure, will never stay long away from hismills."

  But Lucille approved her mother's plan, and was seconded by her brother.Colonel Harris was interested in the views expressed, but with judicialtone, he replied, "The Harrises better wait till the right time comes.Great financial changes are possible in a day."

  The dinner, though late, was excellent. Before ten o'clock all were gladto retire, except the head of the family, who hoped the night would beshort, as the next day might witness very important businesstransactions.

  Colonel Harris took the elevator down to the gentlemen's cafe, adjoiningthe beautiful Garden Court. For a moment he stood admiring the massivefire-place and the many artistic effects, mural and otherwise. The cafewas furnished with round tables and inviting chairs. Guests of the hotel,members of city clubs, and strangers, came and went, but the colonel'smind was in an anxious mood, so he sought a quiet corner, lighted acigar, and accidently picked up the _Evening Post_. Almost the firstthing he read was an item of shipping news:

  "No word yet from the overdue steamship 'Majestic;' she is already forty-eight hours late, and very likely has experienced bad weather."

  The "Majestic" is one of the largest and best of the famous White StarLine fleet. Colonel Harris expected an English gentleman to arrive bythis boat, and he had come on to New York to meet him, as the two hadbusiness of great importance to talk over. "I wonder," thought thecolonel, "if such a thing could happen, that my cherished plan ofretiring with millions, might possibly be frustrated by ship-wreck or anyunlooked-for event?" Whereupon he pulled from his pocket a cablegram, tomake himself doubly sure that his was not a fool's errand, and again readit in audible tones:

  London, May 24, 18--. _Col. Reuben Harris, Hotel Waldorf, New York._

  Hugh Searles, our agent, sails May twenty-fifth on Majestic. Meet him at Hotel Waldorf, New York.

  Guerney & Barring.

  The signers of the cablegram were young bankers and brokers, occupyingsumptuous quarters on Threadneedle Street, in sight of the Bank ofEngland, the Exchange, and the Mansion House or official residence of theLord Mayor of London. The fathers of each member of the firm had been atthe head of great banking houses in London for many years, and afterherculean efforts, their banks had failed. These young men had unitedfamilies and forces, and resolved to win again a financial standing inthe world's metropolis. Shrewdly they had opened a score of branchoffices in different parts of London and county; besides they had addeda brokerage business, which had drifted into an extensive specialty ofpromoting syndicates in America and the colonies. Their success inhandling high grade manufacturing plants had been phenomenal. Already atthis business they had netted two million pounds. Reliable and expertaccountants were always sent by them to examine thoroughly a client'sledgers. Already, bonds that carried the approval of Guerney & Barring,found ready market on Lombard, Prince, and other financial streets nearthe Bank of England.

  Colonel Harris relighted his cigar and queried to himself, "What ought Ito charge these Englishmen for a property that cost barely two millions,but that has brought to the Harris family, annually for ten years, anaverage of 30%, or $600,000?" At first he had fixed upon six millions asa fair price, and then finally upon five million dollars. While he thusreflected, he fell asleep. It was after eleven o'clock when the Waldorfattendant caught him, or he would have fallen from his chair to thefloor. Colonel Harris gave him a piece of silver, and retired for thenight.