The Lion and the Mouse; a Story of an American Life

by Charles Klein and Arthur Hornblow

  Produced by Charles Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team.

  The Lion and the Mouse

  by

  Charles Klein

  A Story of an American Life

  Novelized from the play by

  Arthur Hornblow

  "Judges and Senates have been bought for gold; Love and esteem have never been sold." POPE

  CONTENTS

  Chapter I

  Chapter II

  Chapter III

  Chapter IV

  Chapter V

  Chapter VI

  Chapter VII

  Chapter VIII

  Chapter IX

  Chapter X

  Chapter XI

  Chapter XII

  Chapter XIII

  Chapter XIV

  Chapter XV

  Chapter XVI

  THE LION AND THE MOUSE

  CHAPTER I

  There was unwonted bustle in the usually sleepy and dignified New Yorkoffices of the Southern and Transcontinental Railroad Company in lowerBroadway. The supercilious, well-groomed clerks who, on ordinary days,are far too preoccupied with their own personal affairs to betray theslightest interest in anything not immediately concerning them, nowcondescended to bestir themselves and, gathered in little groups,conversed in subdued, eager tones. The slim, nervous fingers of half adozen haughty stenographers, representing as many different types ofbusiness femininity, were busily rattling the keys of clickingtypewriters, each of their owners intent on reducing with all possibledespatch the mass of letters which lay piled up in front of her.Through the heavy plate-glass swinging doors, leading to the elevatorsand thence to the street, came and went an army of messengers andtelegraph boys, noisy and insolent. Through the open windows the hoarseshouting of news-venders, the rushing of elevated trains, the clangingof street cars, with the occasional feverish dash of an ambulance--allthese familiar noises of a great city had the far-away sound peculiarto top floors of the modern sky-scraper. The day was warm and sticky,as is not uncommon in early May, and the overcast sky and a distantrumbling of thunder promised rain before night.

  The big express elevators, running smoothly and swiftly, unloaded everyfew moments a number of prosperous-looking men who, chatting volublyand affably, made their way immediately through the outer officestowards another and larger inner office on the glass door of which wasthe legend "Directors Room. Private." Each comer gave a patronizing nodin recognition of the deferential salutation of the clerks. Earlierarrivals had preceded them, and as they opened the door there issuedfrom the Directors Room a confused murmur of voices, each different inpitch and tone, some deep and deliberate, others shrill and nervous,but all talking earnestly and with animation as men do when the subjectunder discussion is of common interest. Now and again a voice was heardhigh above the others, denoting anger in the speaker, followed by thepleading accents of the peace-maker, who was arguing his iratecolleague into calmness. At intervals the door opened to admit otherarrivals, and through the crack was caught a glimpse of a dozendirectors, some seated, some standing near a long table covered withgreen baize.

  It was the regular quarterly meeting of the directors of the Southernand Transcontinental Railroad Company, but it was something more thanmere routine that had called out a quorum of such strength and whichmade to-day's gathering one of extraordinary importance in the historyof the road. That the business on hand was of the greatest significancewas easily to be inferred from the concerned and anxious expression onthe directors' faces and the eagerness of the employes as they pliedeach other with questions.

  "Suppose the injunction is sustained?" asked a clerk in a whisper. "Isnot the road rich enough to bear the loss?"

  The man he addressed turned impatiently to the questioner: "That's allyou know about railroading. Don't you understand that this suit we havelost will be the entering wedge for hundreds of others. The veryexistence of the road may be at stake. And between you and me," headded in a lower key, "with Judge Rossmore on the bench we never stoodmuch show. It's Judge Rossmore that scares 'em, not the injunction.They've found it easy to corrupt most of the Supreme Court judges, butJudge Rossmore is one too many for them. You could no more bribe himthan you could have bribed Abraham Lincoln."

  "But the newspapers say that he, too, has been caught accepting $50,000worth of stock for that decision he rendered in the Great Northwesterncase."

  "Lies! All those stories are lies," replied the other emphatically.Then looking cautiously around to make sure no one overheard, he addedcontemptuously, "The big interests fear him, and they're inventingthese lies to try and injure him. They might as well try to blow upGibraltar. The fact is the public is seriously aroused this time andthe railroads are in a panic."

  It was true. The railroad, which heretofore had considered itselfsuperior to law, had found itself checked in its career of outlawry andoppression. The railroad, this modern octopus of steam and steel whichstretches its greedy tentacles out over the land, had at last beenbrought to book.

  At first, when the country was in the earlier stages of itsdevelopment, the railroad appeared in the guise of a public benefactor.It brought to the markets of the East the produce of the South andWest. It opened up new and inaccessible territory and made oases ofwaste places. It brought to the city coal, lumber, food and other primenecessaries of life, taking back to the farmer and the woodsman inexchange, clothes and other manufactured goods. Thus, little by little,the railroad wormed itself into the affections of the people andgradually became an indispensable part of the life it had itselfcreated. Tear up the railroad and life itself is extinguished.

  So when the railroad found it could not be dispensed with, it grewdissatisfied with the size of its earnings. Legitimate profits were notenough. Its directors cried out for bigger dividends, and from then onthe railroad became a conscienceless tyrant, fawning on those it fearedand crushing without mercy those who were defenceless. It raised itsrates for hauling freight, discriminating against certain localitieswithout reason or justice, and favouring other points where its owninterests lay. By corrupting government officials and other unlawfulmethods it appropriated lands, and there was no escape from itsexactions and brigandage. Other roads were built, and for a briefperiod there was held out the hope of relief that invariably comes fromhonest competition. But the railroad either absorbed its rivals orpooled interests with them, and thereafter there were several mastersinstead of one.

  Soon the railroads began to war among themselves, and in a mad scrambleto secure business at any price they cut each other's rates andunlawfully entered into secret compacts with certain big shippers,permitting the latter to enjoy lower freight rates than theircompetitors. The smaller shippers were soon crushed out of existence inthis way. Competition was throttled and prices went up, making therailroad barons richer and the people poorer. That was the beginning ofthe giant Trusts, the greatest evil American civilization has yetproduced, and one which, unless checked, will inevitably drag thiscountry into the throes of civil strife.

  From out of this quagmire of corruption and rascality emerged theColossus, a man so stupendously rich and with such unlimited powers forevil that the world has never looked upon his like. The famous Croesus,whose fortune was estimated at only eight millions in our money, was apauper compared with John Burkett Ryder, whose holdings no man couldcount, but which were approximately estimated at a thousand millions ofdollars. The railroads had created the Trust, the ogre of corporategreed, of which Ryder was the incarnation, and in time the Trust becamemaster of the railroads, which after all seemed but retributive justice.

  John Burkett Ryder
, the richest man in the world--the man whose namehad spread to the farthest corners of the earth because of his wealth,and whose money, instead of being a blessing, promised to become notonly a curse to himself but a source of dire peril to all mankind--wasa genius born of the railroad age. No other age could have brought himforth; his peculiar talents fitted exactly the conditions of his time.Attracted early in life to the newly discovered oil fields ofPennsylvania, he became a dealer in the raw product and later arefiner, acquiring with capital, laboriously saved, first one refinery,then another. The railroads were cutting each other's throats to securethe freight business of the oil men, and John Burkett Ryder saw hisopportunity. He made secret overtures to the road, guaranteeing a vastamount of business if he could get exceptionally low rates, and theillegal compact was made. His competitors, undersold in the market,stood no chance, and one by one they were crushed out of existence.Ryder called these manouvres "business"; the world called thembrigandage. But the Colossus prospered and slowly built up thefoundations of the extraordinary fortune which is the talk and thewonder of the world today. Master now of the oil situation, Rydersucceeded in his ambition of organizing the Empire Trading Company, themost powerful, the most secretive, and the most wealthy businessinstitution the commercial world has yet known.

  Yet with all this success John Burkett Ryder was still not content. Hewas now a rich man, richer by many millions that he had dreamed hecould ever be, but still he was unsatisfied. He became money mad. Hewanted to be richer still, to be the richest man in the world, therichest man the world had ever known. And the richer he got thestronger the idea grew upon him with all the force of a morbidobsession. He thought of money by day, he dreamt of it at night. Nomatter by what questionable device it was to be procured, more gold andmore must flow into his already overflowing coffers. So each day,instead of spending the rest of his years in peace, in the enjoyment ofthe wealth he had accumulated, he went downtown like anytwenty-dollar-a-week clerk to the tall building in lower Broadway and,closeted with his associates, toiled and plotted to make more money.

  He acquired vast copper mines and secured control of this and thatrailroad. He had invested heavily in the Southern and Transcontinentalroad and was chairman of its board of directors. Then he and hisfellow-conspirators planned a great financial coup. The millions werenot coming in fast enough. They must make a hundred millions at onestroke. They floated a great mining company to which the public wasinvited to subscribe. The scheme having the endorsement of the EmpireTrading Company no one suspected a snare, and such was the magic ofJohn Ryder's name that gold flowed in from every point of the compass.The stock sold away above par the day it was issued. Men deemedthemselves fortunate if they were even granted an allotment. Whatmatter if, a few days later, the house of cards came tumbling down, anda dozen suicides were strewn along Wall Street, that sinisterthoroughfare which, as a wit has said, has a graveyard at one end andthe river at the other! Had Ryder any twinges of conscience? Hardly.Had he not made a cool twenty millions by the deal?

  Yet this commercial pirate, this Napoleon of finance, was not a whollybad man. He had his redeeming qualities, like most bad men. His mostpronounced weakness, and the one that had made him the most conspicuousman of his time, was an entire lack of moral principle. No honest orhonourable man could have amassed such stupendous wealth. In otherwords, John Ryder had not been equipped by Nature with a conscience. Hehad no sense of right, or wrong, or justice where his own interestswere concerned. He was the prince of egoists. On the other hand, hepossessed qualities which, with some people, count as virtues. He waspious and regular in his attendance at church and, while he had donebut little for charity, he was known to have encouraged the giving ofalms by the members of his family, which consisted of a wife, whosetimid voice was rarely heard, and a son Jefferson, who was the destinedsuccessor to his gigantic estate.

  Such was the man who was the real power behind the Southern andTranscontinental Railroad. More than anyone else Ryder had been arousedby the present legal action, not so much for the money interest atstake as that any one should dare to thwart his will. It had been a petscheme of his, this purchase for a song, when the land was cheap, ofsome thousand acres along the line, and it is true that at the time ofthe purchase there had been some idea of laying the land out as a park.But real estate values had increased in astonishing fashion, the roadcould no longer afford to carry out the original scheme, and hadattempted to dispose of the property for building purposes, including aright of way for a branch road. The news, made public in thenewspapers, had raised a storm of protest. The people in the vicinityclaimed that the railroad secured the land on the express condition ofa park being laid out, and in order to make a legal test they hadsecured an injunction, which had been sustained by Judge Rossmore ofthe United States Circuit Court.

  These details were hastily told and re-told by one clerk to another asthe babel of voices in the inner room grew louder, and more directorskept arriving from the ever-busy elevators. The meeting was called forthree o'clock. Another five minutes and the chairman would rap fororder. A tall, strongly built man with white moustache and kindly smileemerged from the directors room and, addressing one of the clerks,asked:

  "Has Mr. Ryder arrived yet?"

  The alacrity with which the employe hastened forward to reply wouldindicate that his interlocutor was a person of more than ordinaryimportance.

  "No, Senator, not yet. We expect him any minute." Then with adeferential smile he added: "Mr. Ryder usually arrives on the stroke,sir."

  The senator gave a nod of acquiescence and, turning on his heel,greeted with a grasp of the hand and affable smile his fellow-directorsas they passed in by twos and threes.

  Senator Roberts was in the world of politics what his friend JohnBurkett Ryder was in the world of finance--a leader of men. He startedlife in Wisconsin as an errand boy, was educated in the public schools,and later became clerk in a dry-goods store, finally going intobusiness for his own account on a large scale. He was elected to theLegislature, where his ability as an organizer soon gained thefriendship of the men in power, and later was sent to Congress, wherehe was quickly initiated in the game of corrupt politics. In 1885 heentered the United States Senate. He soon became the acknowledgedleader of a considerable majority of the Republican senators, and fromthen on he was a figure to be reckoned with. A very ambitious man, witha great love of power and few scruples, it is little wonder that onlythe practical or dishonest side of politics appealed to him. He was inpolitics for all there was in it, and he saw in his lofty position onlya splendid opportunity for easy graft.

  He did not hesitate to make such alliances with corporate interestsseeking influence at Washington as would enable him to accomplish thispurpose, and in this way he had met and formed a strong friendship withJohn Burkett Ryder. Each being a master in his own field was useful tothe other. Neither was troubled with qualms of conscience, so theynever quarrelled. If the Ryder interests needed anything in the Senate,Roberts and his followers were there to attend to it. Just now thecohort was marshalled in defence of the railroads against the attacksof the new Rebate bill. In fact, Ryder managed to keep the Senate busyall the time. When, on the other hand, the senators wantedanything--and they often did--Ryder saw that they got it, lower ratesfor this one, a fat job for that one, not forgetting themselves.Senator Roberts was already a very rich man, and although the worldoften wondered where he got it, no one had the courage to ask him.

  But the Republican leader was stirred with an ambition greater thanthat of controlling a majority in the Senate. He had a daughter, amarriageable young woman who, at least in her father's opinion, wouldmake a desirable wife for any man. His friend Ryder had a son, and thisson was the only heir to the greatest fortune ever amassed by one man,a fortune which, at its present rate of increase, by the time thefather died and the young couple were ready to inherit, would probablyamount to over SIX BILLIONS OF DOLLARS. Could the human mind grasp thepossibilities of such a colossal fortune? It stagg
ered the imagination.Its owner, or the man who controlled it, would be master of the world!Was not this a prize any man might well set himself out to win? Thesenator was thinking of it now as he stood exchanging banal remarkswith the men who accosted him. If he could only bring off that marriagehe would be content. The ambition of his life would be attained. Therewas no difficulty as far as John Ryder was concerned. He favoured thematch and had often spoken of it. Indeed, Ryder desired it, for such analliance would naturally further his business interests in every way.Roberts knew that his daughter Kate had more than a liking for Ryder'shandsome young son. Moreover, Kate was practical, like her father, andhad sense enough to realize what it would mean to be the mistress ofthe Ryder fortune. No, Kate was all right, but there was young Ryder toreckon with. It would take two in this case to make a bargain.

  Jefferson Ryder was, in truth, an entirely different man from hisfather. It was difficult to realize that both had sprung from the samestock. A college-bred boy with all the advantages his father's wealthcould give him, he had inherited from the parent only thosecharacteristics which would have made him successful even if bornpoor--activity, pluck, application, dogged obstinacy, alert mentality.To these qualities he added what his father sorely lacked--a highnotion of honour, a keen sense of right and wrong. He had the honestman's contempt for meanness of any description, and he had littlepatience with the lax so-called business morals of the day. For him adishonourable or dishonest action could have no apologist, and he couldsee no difference between the crime of the hungry wretch who stole aloaf of bread and the coal baron who systematically robbed both hisemployes and the public. In fact, had he been on the bench he wouldprobably have acquitted the human derelict who, in despair, hadappropriated the prime necessary of life, and sent the over-fed,conscienceless coal baron to jail.

  "Do unto others as you would have others do unto you." This simple andfundamental axiom Jefferson Ryder had adopted early in life, and it hadbecome his religion--the only one, in fact, that he had. He was neverpious like his father, a fact much regretted by his mother, who couldsee nothing but eternal damnation in store for her son because he neverwent to church and professed no orthodox creed. She knew him to be agood lad, but to her simple mind a conduct of life based merely on asystem of moral philosophy was the worst kind of paganism. There could,she argued, be no religion, and assuredly no salvation, outside thedogmatic teachings of the Church. But otherwise Jefferson was a modelson and, with the exception of this bad habit of thinking for himselfon religious matters, really gave her no anxiety. When Jefferson leftcollege, his father took him into the Empire Trading Company with theidea of his eventually succeeding him as head of the concern, but thedifferent views held by father and son on almost every subject soon ledto stormy scenes that made the continuation of the arrangementimpossible. Senator Roberts was well aware of these unfortunateindependent tendencies in John Ryder's son, and while he devoutlydesired the consummation of Jefferson's union with his daughter, hequite realized that the young man was a nut which was going to beexceedingly hard to crack.

  "Hello, senator, you're always on time!"

  Disturbed in his reflections, Senator Roberts looked up and saw theextended hand of a red-faced, corpulent man, one of the directors. Hewas no favourite with the senator, but the latter was too keen a man ofthe world to make enemies uselessly, so he condescended to place twofingers in the outstretched fat palm.

  "How are you, Mr. Grimsby? Well, what are we going to do about thisinjunction? The case has gone against us. I knew Judge Rossmore'sdecision would be for the other side. Public opinion is aroused. Thepress--"

  Mr. Grimsby's red face grew more apoplectic as he blurted out:

  "Public opinion and the press be d---d. Who cares for public opinion?What is public opinion, anyhow? This road can manage its own affairs orit can't. If it can't I for one quit railroading. The press! Pshaw!It's all graft, I tell you. It's nothing but a strike! I never knew oneof these virtuous outbursts that wasn't. First the newspapers barkferociously to advertise themselves; then they crawl round and whinelike a cur. And it usually costs something to fix matters."

  The senator smiled grimly.

  "No, no, Grimsby--not this time. It's more serious than that. Hithertothe road has been unusually lucky in its bench decisions--"

  The senator gave a covert glance round to see if any long ears werelistening. Then he added:

  "We can't expect always to get a favourable decision like that in theCartwright case, when franchise rights valued at nearly five millionswere at stake. Judge Stollmann proved himself a true friend in thataffair."

  Grimsby made a wry grimace as he retorted:

  "Yes, and it was worth it to him. A Supreme Court judge don't get acheque for $20,000 every day. That represents two years' pay."

  "It might represent two years in jail if it were found out," said thesenator with a forced laugh.

  Grimsby saw an opportunity, and he could not resist the temptation.Bluntly he said:

  "As far as jail's concerned, others might be getting their desertsthere too."

  The senator looked keenly at Grimsby from under his white eyebrows.Then in a calm, decisive tone he replied:

  "It's no question of a cheque this time. The road could not buy JudgeRossmore with $200,000. He is absolutely unapproachable in that way."

  The apoplectic face of Mr. Grimsby looked incredulous.

  It was hard for these men who plotted in the dark, and cheated thewidow and the orphan for love of the dollar, to understand that therewere in the world, breathing the same air as they, men who put honour,truth and justice above mere money-getting. With a slight tinge ofsarcasm he asked:

  "Is there any man in our public life who is unapproachable from somedirection or other?"

  "Yes, Judge Rossmore is such a man. He is one of the few men inAmerican public life who takes his duties seriously. In the strictestsense of the term, he serves his country instead of serving himself. Iam no friend of his, but I must do him that justice."

  He spoke sharply, in an irritated tone, as if resenting the insinuationof this vulgarian that every man in public life had his price. Robertsknew that the charge was true as far as he and the men he consortedwith were concerned, but sometimes the truth hurts. That was why he hadfor a moment seemed to champion Judge Rossmore, which, seeing that thejudge himself was at that very moment under a cloud, was an absurdthing for him to do.

  He had known Rossmore years before when the latter was a citymagistrate in New York. That was before he, Roberts, had become apolitical grafter and when the decent things in life still appealed tohim. The two men, although having few interests in common, had seen agood deal of one another until Roberts went to Washington when theirrelations were completely severed. But he had always watched Rossmore'scareer, and when he was made a judge of the Supreme Court at acomparatively early age he was sincerely glad. If anything could haveconvinced Roberts that success can come in public life to a man whopursues it by honest methods it was the success of James Rossmore. Hecould never help feeling that Rossmore had been endowed by Nature withcertain qualities which had been denied to him, above all that abilityto walk straight through life with skirts clean which he had foundimpossible himself. To-day Judge Rossmore was one of the mostcelebrated judges in the country. He was a brilliant jurist and asplendid after-dinner speaker. He was considered the most learned andable of all the members of the judiciary, and his decisions were notedas much for their fearlessness as for their wisdom. But what was farmore, he enjoyed a reputation for absolute integrity. Until now nobreath of slander, no suspicion of corruption, had ever touched him.Even his enemies acknowledged that. And that is why there was a panicto-day among the directors of the Southern and TranscontinentalRailroad. This honest, upright man had been called upon in the courseof his duty to decide matters of vital importance to the road, and thedirectors were ready to stampede because, in their hearts, they knewthe weakness of their case and the strength of the judge.

  Grimsby, u
nconvinced, returned to the charge.

  "What about these newspaper charges? Did Judge Rossmore take a bribefrom the Great Northwestern or didn't he? You ought to know."

  "I do know," answered the senator cautiously and somewhat curtly, "butuntil Mr. Ryder arrives I can say nothing. I believe he has beeninquiring into the matter. He will tell us when he comes."

  The hands of the large clock in the outer room pointed to three. Anactive, dapper little man with glasses and with books under his armpassed hurriedly from another office into the directors room.

  "There goes Mr. Lane with the minutes. The meeting is called. Where'sMr. Ryder?"

  There was a general move of the scattered groups of directors towardthe committee room. The clock overhead began to strike. The last strokehad not quite died away when the big swinging doors from the streetwere thrown open and there entered a tall, thin man, gray-headed, andwith a slight stoop, but keen eyed and alert. He was carefully dressedin a well-fitting frock coat, white waistcoat, black tie and silk hat.

  It was John Burkett Ryder, the Colossus.