The Main Chance

by Meredith Nicholson

  CHAPTER XXII

  AN ANNUAL PASS

  Timothy Margrave was, in common phrase, a good railroad man. He hadadvanced by slow degrees from the incumbency of those lowly manualoffices called jobs, to the performance of those nobler functions knownas positions. Margrave's elevation to the office of third vice-presidentand general manager was due to his Pull. This was originally politicalbut later financial; and he now had both kinds of Pulls. There is nogreater arrogance among us than that of our railway officials; they aregreater tyrants than any that sit in public office. The GeneralSomething or Other is a despot, the records of whose life are written intissue manifold; his ideals are established for him by those of his ownorder who have been raised to a higher power, which he himself aspiresto reach in due season. Margrave had gone as high as he expected to gowith the corporation whose destinies he had done so much to promote; allwho were below him in the Transcontinental knew that he held their livesin his hands; all his subordinates, down to the boys who carried longmanila envelopes marked R. R. B. to and from trains called him IT.

  Margrave had resolved that the railroad was getting too much out of himand that he must do more to promote his own fortunes. The directorswere good fellows, and they had certainly treated him well; but itseemed within the pale of legitimate enterprise for him to broaden hisinterests a trifle without in any wise diminishing his zeal for theTranscontinental. The street railway business was a good business, andClarkson Traction appealed to Margrave, moreover, on its political side.If he reorganized the company and made himself its president he couldgreatly fortify and strengthen his Pull. Tim Margrave's Pull was alreadyof consequence and it would be of great use in this new undertaking;moreover, it would naturally be augmented by his control of the littlearmy of Traction employees. He proposed getting some of the Easternstockholders of the Transcontinental to help him acquire Tractionholdings sufficient to get control of the company; and, with Margrave,to decide was to act.

  Almost any day, he was told, the Eastern bondholders might pounce downand put a receiver in charge of the company. Margrave did not understandreceiverships according to High or Beach or any other legal authority;but according to Margrave they were an excuse for pillage, and it was aregret of his life that no fat receivership had ever fallen to his lot.But he was not going into Traction blindly. He wanted to know who elsewas interested, that he might avoid complications. William Porter wasthe only man in Clarkson who could swing Traction without assistance; hemust not run afoul of Porter. Margrave was a master of the art ofgetting information, and he decided, on reflection, that the easiest wayto get information about Porter was to coax it out of Wheaton.

  He always called Wheaton "Jim," in remembrance of those early days ofWheaton's residence in Clarkson when Wheaton had worked in his office.He had watched Wheaton's rise with interest; he took to himself thecredit of being his discoverer. When Wheaton called on his daughter hemade no comment; he knew nothing to Wheaton's discredit, and he would nomore have thought of criticizing Mabel than of ordering dynamitesubstituted for coal in the locomotives of his railroad. When heconcluded that he needed Wheaton, he began playing for him, just as ifthe cashier had been a councilman or a member of the legislature or alarge shipper or any other fair prey.

  He had unconsciously made a good beginning by making Wheaton the King ofthe Carnival; he now resorted to that most insidious and economical formof bribery known as the annual pass.

  One of these pretty bits of pasteboard was at once mailed to Wheaton bythe Second Assistant General Something on Margrave's recommendation.

  Wheaton accepted the pass as a tribute to his growing prominence in thetown. He knew that Porter refused railroad passes on practical grounds,holding that such favors were extended in the hope of reciprocalcompliments, and he believed that a banker was better off without them.Wheaton, whose vanity had been touched, could see no harm in them. Hehad little use for passes as he knew and cared little about traveling,but he had always envied men who carried their "annuals" in littlebrass-bound books made for the purpose. To be sure it was late in theyear and passes were usually sent out in January, but this made thecompliment seem much more direct; the Transcontinental had forgottenhim, and had thought it well to rectify the error between seasons. Hefelt that he must not make too much of the railroad's courtesy; he didnot know to which official in particular he was indebted, but he raninto Margrave one evening at the club and decided to thank him.

  "How's traffic?" he asked, as Margrave made room for him on the setteewhere he sat reading the evening paper.

  "Fair. Anything new?"

  "No; it's the same routine with me pretty much all the time."

  "I guess that's right. I shouldn't think there was much fun in banking.You got to keep the public too far away. I like to be up against peoplemyself."

  "Banking is hardly a sociable business," said Wheaton.

  "No; a good banker's got to have cold feet, as the fellow said."

  "But you railroad people are not considered so very warm," said Wheaton."The fellows who want favors seem to think so. By the way, I'm muchobliged to some one for an annual that turned up in my mail the otherday. I don't know who sent it to me,--if it's you--"

  "Um?" Margrave affected to have been wandering in his thoughts, but thiswas what he was waiting for. "Oh, I guess that was Wilson. I never foolwith the pass business myself; I've got troubles of my own."

  "I guess I'll not use it very often," said Wheaton, as if he owed anapology to the road for accepting it.

  "Better come out with me in the car sometime and see the road,"Margrave suggested, throwing his newspaper on the table.

  "I'd like that very much," said Wheaton.

  "Where's Thompson now? Old man's pretty well done up, ain't he?"

  "He went back to Arizona. He was here at work all summer. He's afraid ofour winters."

  "Well, that gives you your chance," said Margrave, affably. "There ain'tany young man in town that's got a better chance than you have, Jim."

  "I know that," said Wheaton, humbly.

  "You don't go in much on the outside, do you? I suppose you don't havemuch time."

  "No; I'm held down pretty close; and in a bank you can't go intoeverything."

  "Well, there's nothing like keeping an eye out. Good things are not soterribly common these days." Margrave got up and walked the floor onceor twice, apparently in a musing humor, but he really wished to lookinto the adjoining room to make sure they were alone.

  "I believe," he said, with emphasis on the pronoun, "there's going to bea good thing for some one in Traction stock. Porter ought to let you inon that." Margrave didn't know that Porter was in, but he expected tofind out.

  "Mr. Porter has a way of keeping things to himself," said Wheaton,cautiously; yet he was flattered by Margrave's friendliness, and anxiousto make a favorable impression. Vanity is not, as is usually assumed, amere incident of character; it is a disease.

  "I suppose," said Margrave, "that a man could buy a barrel of thatstuff just now at a low figure."

  Wheaton could not resist this opportunity.

  "What I have, I got at thirty-one," he answered, as if it were the mostnatural thing in the world for him to have Traction stock. This was nota bank confidence; there was no reason why he should not talk of his owninvestments if he wished to do so.

  Margrave had reseated himself, and lounged on the settee with aconfidential air that he had found very effective in the committee roomsat the state capital when it was necessary to deal with a difficultlegislator.

  "I suppose Porter must have got in lower than that," he said,carelessly. "Billy usually gets in on the ground floor." He chuckled tohimself in admiration of the banker's shrewdness. "But a fellow can dowhat he pleases when he's got money. Most of us see good things andcan't go into the market after 'em."

  "What's your guess as to the turn this Traction business will take?"asked Wheaton. He had not expected an opportunity to talk to any one ofMargrave's standing on this subject, an
d he thought he would get someinformation while the opportunity offered.

  "Don't ask me! If I knew I'd like to get into the game. But, lookhere"--he moved his fat body a little nearer to Wheaton--"the way to gointo that thing is to go into it big! I've had my eye on it for a goodwhile, but I ain't going to touch it unless I can swing it all. Now, youknow Porter, and I know him, and you can bet your last dollar he'llnever be able to handle it. He ain't built for it!" His voice sank to awhisper. "But if I decide to go in, I've got to get rid of Porter. Meand Porter can't travel in the same harness. You know that," he added,pleadingly, as if there were the bitterness of years of controversy inhis relations with Porter.

  Wheaton nodded sympathetically.

  "Now, I don't know how much he's got"--this in an angry tone, as ifPorter were guilty of some grave offense against him--"and he's sodamned mysterious you can't tell what he's up to. You know how he is;you can't go to a fellow like that and do business with him, and hewon't play anyhow, unless you play his way."

  "Well, I don't know anything about his affairs, of course," saidWheaton, yet feeling that Margrave's confidences must be reciprocated."Just between ourselves,"--he waited for Margrave to nod and grunt inhis solemn way--"he did buy a little some time ago, but no great amount.It would take a good deal of money to control that company."

  "You're dead right, it would; and Porter hasn't any business foolingwith it. You've got to syndicate a thing like that. He's probably got atip from some one of his Eastern friends as to what they're going to do,and he's buying in, when he can, to get next. But say, he hasn't anyTraction bonds, has he?"

  Wheaton had already said more than he had intended, and repented nowthat he had been drawn into this conversation; but Margrave was bendingtoward him with a great air of condescending intimacy. Porter had neverbeen confidential with him; and it was really Margrave who had given himhis start.

  "I don't think so; at least I never knew of it." His mind was on thosechecks to Peckham, which clearly represented purchases of stock. Ofcourse, Porter might have bonds, too, but having gone thus far he didnot like to admit to Margrave how little he really knew of Porter'sdoings. Margrave was puffing solemnly at his cigar, and changed thesubject. When he rose to go and stood stamping down his trousers, whichwere forever climbing up his fat legs when he sat, Wheaton felt animpulse to correct any false impressions which he might have givenMargrave; but he was afraid to try this. He would discredit himself withMargrave by doing so. He had not intended to leave so early, but hehated to let go of Margrave, and he followed him into the coat room.

  "That's all between us--that little matter," said Margrave, as they werehelped into their coats by the sleepy colored boy. Wheaton wanted to saythis himself, but Margrave saved him the trouble.

  "Certainly, Mr. Margrave."