Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Daniel Emerson Griffith and the PGOnline Distributed Proofreading Team.
[Photo, from the play, of Shirley appealing to Mr. Ryder]
"Go to Washington and save my father's life."--Act III. _Frontispiece._
THE LION AND THE MOUSE
BY
CHARLES KLEIN
A Story _of_ American Life
NOVELIZED FROM THE PLAY BY
ARTHUR HORNBLOW
"Judges and Senators have been bought for gold; Love and esteem have never been sold."--POPE
* * * * *
ILLUSTRATED BY
STUART TRAVIS
AND
SCENES FROM THE PLAY
* * * * *
GROSSET & DUNLAP
PUBLISHERS--NEW YORK
G.W. DILLINGHAM COMPANY
_Entered at Stationers' Hall, London_
Issued August, 1906
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 NewYork offices of the Southern and Transcontinental Railroad Companyin lower Broadway. The supercilious, well-groomed clerks who, onordinary days, are far too preoccupied with their own personalaffairs to betray the slightest interest in anything notimmediately concerning them, now condescended to bestir themselvesand, gathered in little groups, conversed in subdued, eager tones.The slim, nervous fingers of half a dozen haughty stenographers,representing as many different types of business femininity, werebusily rattling the keys of clicking typewriters, each of theirowners intent on reducing with all possible despatch the mass ofletters which lay piled up in front of her. Through the heavyplate-glass swinging doors, leading to the elevators and thence tothe street, came and went an army of messengers and telegraphboys, noisy and insolent.
Through the open windows the hoarse shouting of news-venders, therushing of elevated trains, the clanging of street cars, with theoccasional feverish dash of an ambulance--all these familiarnoises of a great city had the far-away sound peculiar to topfloors of the modern sky-scraper. The day was warm and sticky, asis 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, unloadedevery few moments a number of prosperous-looking men who, chattingvolubly and affably, made their way immediately through the outeroffices towards another and larger inner office on the glass doorof which was the legend "Directors Room. Private." Each comer gavea patronizing nod in recognition of the deferential salutation ofthe clerks. Earlier arrivals had preceded them, and as they openedthe door there issued from the Directors Room a confused murmur ofvoices, each different in pitch and tone, some deep anddeliberate, others shrill and nervous, but all talking earnestlyand with animation as men do when the subject under discussion isof common interest. Now and again a voice was heard high above theothers, denoting anger in the speaker, followed by the pleadingaccents of the peace-maker, who was arguing his irate colleagueinto 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 coveredwith green baize.
It was the regular quarterly meeting of the directors of theSouthern and Transcontinental Railroad Company, but it was somethingmore than mere routine that had called out a quorum of such strengthand which made to-day's gathering one of extraordinary importancein the history of the road. That the business on hand was of thegreatest significance was easily to be inferred from the concernedand anxious expression on the directors' faces and the eagernessof the employes as they plied each other with questions.
"Suppose the injunction is sustained?" asked a clerk in a whisper."Is not the road rich enough to bear the loss?"
The man he addressed turned impatiently to the questioner:
"That's all you know about railroading. Don't you understand thatthis suit we have lost will be the entering wedge for hundreds ofothers. The very existence of the road may be at stake. Andbetween you and me," he added in a lower key, "with Judge Rossmoreon the bench we never stood much show. It's Judge Rossmore thatscares 'em, not the injunction. They've found it easy to corruptmost of the Supreme Court judges, but Judge Rossmore is one toomany for them. You could no more bribe him than you could havebribed Abraham Lincoln."
"But the newspapers say that he, too, has been caught accepting$50,000 worth of stock for that decision he rendered in the GreatNorthwestern case."
"Lies! All those stories are lies," replied the otheremphatically. Then looking cautiously around to make sure no oneoverheard he added contemptuously, "The big interests fear him,and they're inventing these lies to try and injure him. They mightas well try to blow up Gibraltar. The fact is the public isseriously aroused this time and the railroads are in a panic."
It was true. The railroad, which heretofore had considered itselfsuperior to law, had found itself checked in its career ofoutlawry and oppression. The railroad, this modern octopus ofsteam and steel which stretches its greedy tentacles out over theland, had at last been brought to book.
At first, when the country was in the earlier stages of itsdevelopment, the railroad appeared in the guise of a publicbenefactor. It brought to the markets of the East the produce ofthe South and West. It opened up new and inaccessible territoryand made oases of waste places. It brought to the city coal,lumber, food and other prime necessaries of life, taking back tothe farmer and the woodsman in exchange, clothes and othermanufactured goods. Thus, little by little, the railroad wormeditself into the affections of the people and gradually became anindispensable part of the life it had itself created. Tear up therailroad 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 profitswere not enough. Its directors cried out for bigger dividends, andfrom then on the railroad became a conscienceless tyrant, fawningon those it feared and crushing without mercy those who weredefenceless. It raised its rates for hauling freight, discriminatingagainst certain localities without reason or justice, and favouringother points where its own interests lay. By corrupting governmentofficials and other unlawful methods it appropriated lands, andthere was no escape from its exactions and brigandage. Otherroads were built, and for a brief period there was held out thehope of relief that invariably comes from honest competition. Butthe railroad either absorbed its rivals or pooled interests withthem, and thereafter there were several masters instead of one.
Soon the railroads began to war among themselves, and in a madscramble to secure business at any price they cut each other'srates and unlawfully entered into secret compacts with certain bigshippers, permitting the latter to enjoy lower freight rates thantheir competitors. The smaller shippers were soon crushed out ofexistence in this way. Competition was throttled and prices wentup, making the railroad barons richer and the people poorer. Thatwas the beginning of the giant Trusts, the greatest evil Americancivilization has yet produced, and one which, unless checked, willinevitably drag this country into the throes of civil strife.
From out this quagmire of corruption and rascality emerged theColossus, a man so stupendously rich and with such unlimitedpowers for evil that the world has never looked upon his like. Thefamous Croesus, whose fortune was estimated
at only eight millionsin our money, was a pauper compared with John Burkett Ryder, whoseholdings no man could count, but which were approximatelyestimated at a thousand millions of dollars. The railroads hadcreated the Trust, the ogre of corporate greed, of which Ryder wasthe incarnation, and in time the Trust became master of therailroads, which after all seemed but retributive justice.
John Burkett Ryder, the richest man in the world--the man whosename had spread to the farthest corners of the earth because ofhis wealth, and whose money, instead of being a blessing, promisedto become not only a curse to himself but a source of dire perilto all mankind--was a genius born of the railroad age. No otherage could have brought him forth; his peculiar talents fittedexactly the conditions of his time. Attracted early in life to thenewly discovered oil fields of Pennsylvania, he became a dealer inthe raw product and later a refiner, acquiring with capital,laboriously saved, first one refinery, then another. The railroadswere cutting each other's throats to secure the freight businessof the oil men, and John Burkett Ryder saw his opportunity. Hemade secret overtures to the road, guaranteeing a vast amount ofbusiness if he could get exceptionally low rates, and the illegalcompact was made. His competitors, undersold in the market, stoodno chance, and one by one they were crushed out of existence.Ryder called these manoeuvres "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 to-day. Master now of the oil situation, Rydersucceeded in his ambition of organizing the Empire TradingCompany, the most powerful, the most secretive, and the mostwealthy business institution the commercial world has yet known.
Yet with all this success John Burkett Ryder was still notcontent. He was now a rich man, richer by many millions that hehad dreamed he could ever be, but still he was unsatisfied. Hebecame money mad. He wanted to be richer still, to be the richestman in the world, the richest man the world had ever known. Andthe richer he got the stronger the idea grew upon him with all theforce of a morbid obsession. He thought of money by day, he dreamtof it at night. No matter by what questionable device it was to beprocured, more gold and more must flow into his alreadyoverflowing coffers. So each day, instead of spending the rest ofhis years in peace, in the enjoyment of the wealth he hadaccumulated, he went downtown like any twenty-dollar-a-week clerkto the tall building in lower Broadway and, closeted with hisassociates, toiled and plotted to make more money.
He acquired vast copper mines and secured control of this andthat railroad. He had invested heavily in the Southern andTranscontinental road and was chairman of its board of directors.Then he and his fellow-conspirators planned a great financialcoup. The millions were not coming in fast enough. They must makea hundred millions at one stroke. They floated a great miningcompany to which the public was invited to subscribe. The schemehaving the endorsement of the Empire Trading Company no onesuspected a snare, and such was the magic of John Ryder's namethat gold flowed in from every point of the compass. The stocksold away above par the day it was issued. Men deemed themselvesfortunate if they were even granted an allotment. What matter if,a few days later, the house of cards came tumbling down, and adozen suicides were strewn along Wall Street, that sinisterthoroughfare which, as a wit has said, has a graveyard at one endand the 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 awholly bad man. He had his redeeming qualities, like most bad men.His most pronounced weakness, and the one that had made him themost conspicuous man of his time, was an entire lack of moralprinciple. No honest or honourable man could have amassed suchstupendous wealth. In other words, John Ryder had not beenequipped by Nature with a conscience. He had no sense of right, orwrong, or justice where his own interests were concerned. He wasthe prince of egoists. On the other hand, he possessed qualitieswhich, with some people, count as virtues. He was pious andregular in his attendance at church and, while he had done butlittle for charity, he was known to have encouraged the giving ofalms by the members of his family, which consisted of a wife,whose timid voice was rarely heard, and a son Jefferson, who wasthe destined successor to his gigantic estate.
Such was the man who was the real power behind the Southern andTranscontinental Railroad. More than anyone else Ryder had beenaroused by the present legal action, not so much for the moneyinterest at stake as that any one should dare to thwart his will.It had been a pet scheme of his, this purchase for a song, whenthe land was cheap, of some thousand acres along the line, and itis true that at the time of the purchase there had been some ideaof laying the land out as a park. But real estate values hadincreased in astonishing fashion, the road could no longer affordto carry out the original scheme, and had attempted to dispose ofthe property for building purposes, including a right of way for abranch road. The news, made public in the newspapers, had raised astorm of protest. The people in the vicinity claimed that therailroad secured the land on the express condition of a park beinglaid out, and in order to make a legal test they had secured aninjunction, which had been sustained by Judge Rossmore of theUnited States Circuit Court.
These details were hastily told and re-told by one clerk toanother as the babel of voices in the inner room grew louder, andmore directors kept arriving from the ever-busy elevators. Themeeting was called for three o'clock. Another five minutes and thechairman would rap for order. A tall, strongly built man withwhite moustache and kindly smile emerged from the directors roomand, addressing one of the clerks, asked:
"Has Mr. Ryder arrived yet?"
The alacrity with which the employe hastened forward to replywould indicate that his interlocutor was a person of more thanordinary importance.
"No, Senator, not yet. We expect him any minute." Then with adeferential smile he added: "Mr. Ryder usually arrives on thestroke, sir."
The senator gave a nod of acquiescence and, turning on hisheel, greeted with a grasp of the hand and affable smile hisfellow-directors as 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. Hestarted life in Wisconsin as an errand boy, was educated in thepublic schools, and later became clerk in a dry-goods store,finally going into business for his own account on a large scale.He was elected to the Legislature, where his ability as anorganizer soon gained the friendship of the men in power, andlater was sent to Congress, where he was quickly initiated in thegame of corrupt politics. In 1885 he entered the United StatesSenate. He soon became the acknowledged leader of a considerablemajority of the Republican senators, and from then on he was afigure to be reckoned with. A very ambitious man, with a greatlove of power and few scruples, it is little wonder that only thepractical or dishonest side of politics appealed to him. He was inpolitics for all there was in it, and he saw in his lofty positiononly a splendid opportunity for easy graft.
He did not hesitate to make such alliances with corporateinterests seeking influence at Washington as would enable him toaccomplish this purpose, and in this way he had met and formed astrong friendship with John Burkett Ryder. Each being a master inhis own field was useful to the other. Neither was troubled withqualms of conscience, so they never quarrelled. If the Ryderinterests needed anything in the Senate, Roberts and his followerswere there to attend to it. Just now the cohort was marshalled indefence of the railroads against the attacks of the new Rebatebill. In fact, Ryder managed to keep the Senate busy all the time.When, on the other hand, the senators wanted anything--and theyoften did--Ryder saw that they got it, lower rates for this one, afat job for that one, not forgetting themselves. Senator Robertswas already a very rich man, and although the world often wonderedwhere he got it, no one had the courage to ask him.
But the Republican leader was stirred with an ambition greaterthan that of controlling a majority in the Senate. He had adaughter, a marriageable young woman who, at least in
her father'sopinion, would make a desirable wife for any man. His friend Ryderhad a son, and this son was the only heir to the greatest fortuneever amassed by one man, a fortune which, at its present rate ofincrease, by the time the father died and the young couple wereready to inherit, would probably amount to over _six billions ofdollars_. Could the human mind grasp the possibilities of such acolossal fortune? It staggered the imagination. Its owner, or theman who controlled it, would be master of the world! Was not thisa prize any man might well set himself out to win? The senator wasthinking of it now as he stood exchanging banal remarks with themen who accosted him. If he could only bring off that marriage hewould be content. The ambition of his life would be attained.There was no difficulty as far as John Ryder was concerned. Hefavoured the match and had often spoken of it. Indeed, Ryderdesired it, for such an alliance would naturally further hisbusiness interests in every way. Roberts knew that his daughterKate had more than a liking for Ryder's handsome young son.Moreover, Kate was practical, like her father, and had senseenough to realize what it would mean to be the mistress of theRyder fortune. No, Kate was all right, but there was young Ryderto reckon 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 thesame stock. A college-bred boy with all the advantages hisfather's wealth could give him, he had inherited from the parentonly those characteristics which would have made him successfuleven if born poor--activity, pluck, application, dogged obstinacy,alert mentality. To these qualities he added what his fathersorely lacked--a high notion of honour, a keen sense of right andwrong. He had the honest man's contempt for meanness of anydescription, and he had little patience with the lax so-calledbusiness morals of the day. For him a dishonourable or dishonestaction could have no apologist, and he could see no differencebetween the crime of the hungry wretch who stole a loaf of breadand the coal baron who systematically robbed both his employes andthe public. In fact, had he been on the bench he would probablyhave acquitted the human derelict who, in despair, had appropriatedthe prime necessary of life, and sent the over-fed, consciencelesscoal baron to jail.
"Do unto others as you would have others do unto you." This simpleand fundamental axiom Jefferson Ryder had adopted early in life,and it had become his religion--the only one, in fact, that hehad. He was never pious like his father, a fact much regretted byhis mother, who could see nothing but eternal damnation in storefor her son because he never went to church and professed noorthodox creed. She knew him to be a good lad, but to her simplemind a conduct of life based merely on a system of moralphilosophy was the worst kind of paganism. There could, sheargued, be no religion, and assuredly no salvation, outside thedogmatic teachings of the Church. But otherwise Jefferson was amodel son and, with the exception of this bad habit of thinkingfor himself on religious matters, really gave her no anxiety. WhenJefferson left college, his father took him into the EmpireTrading Company with the idea of his eventually succeeding him ashead of the concern, but the different views held by father andson on almost every subject soon led to stormy scenes that madethe continuation of the arrangement impossible. Senator Robertswas well aware of these unfortunate independent tendencies in JohnRyder's son, and while he devoutly desired the consummation ofJefferson's union with his daughter, he quite realized that theyoung man was a nut which was going to be exceedingly hard tocrack.
"Hello, senator, you're always on time!"
Disturbed in his reflections, Senator Roberts looked up and sawthe extended hand of a red-faced, corpulent man, one of thedirectors. He was no favourite with the senator, but the latterwas too keen a man of the world to make enemies uselessly, so hecondescended to place two fingers in the outstretched fat palm.
"How are you, Mr. Grimsby? Well, what are we going to do aboutthis injunction? The case has gone against us. I knew JudgeRossmore's decision would be for the other side. Public opinion isaroused. The press--"
Mr. Grimsby's red face grew more apoplectic as he blurted out:
"Public opinion and the press be d----d. Who cares for publicopinion? What is public opinion, anyhow? This road can manage itsown affairs or it 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 astrike! I never knew one of these virtuous outbursts that wasn't.First the newspapers bark ferociously to advertise themselves;then they crawl round and whine like a cur. And it usually costssomething to fix matters."
The senator smiled grimly.
"No, no, Grimsby--not this time. It's more serious than that.Hitherto the road has been unusually lucky in its benchdecisions--"
The senator gave a covert glance round to see if any long earswere listening. Then he added:
"We can't expect always to get a favourable decision like that inthe Cartwright case, when franchise rights valued at nearly fivemillions were at stake. Judge Stollmann proved himself a truefriend in that affair."
Grimsby made a wry grimace as he retorted:
"Yes, and it was worth it to him. A Supreme Court judge don't geta cheque for $20,000 every day. That represents two years' pay."
"It might represent two years in jail if it were found out," saidthe senator with a forced laugh,
Grimsby saw an opportunity, and he could not resist thetemptation. 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 whiteeyebrows. Then in a calm, decisive tone he replied:
"It's no question of a cheque this time. The road could not buyJudge Rossmore with $200,000. He is absolutely unapproachable inthat 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 thatthere were in the world, breathing the same air as they, men whoput honour, truth and justice above mere money-getting. With aslight tinge of sarcasm he asked:
"Is there any man in our public life who is unapproachable fromsome direction 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 thestrictest sense of the term, he serves his country instead ofserving himself. I am no friend of his, but I must do him thatjustice."
He spoke sharply, in an irritated tone, as if resenting theinsinuation of this vulgarian that every man in public life hadhis price. Roberts knew that the charge was true as far as he andthe men he consorted with were concerned, but sometimes the truthhurts. That was why he had for a moment seemed to champion JudgeRossmore, which, seeing that the judge himself was at that verymoment under a cloud, was an absurd thing 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 stillappealed to him. The two men, although having few interests incommon, had seen a good deal of one another until Roberts went toWashington when their relations were completely severed. But hehad always watched Rossmore's career, and when he was made a judgeof the Supreme Court at a comparatively early age he was sincerelyglad. If anything could have convinced Roberts that success cancome in public life to a man who pursues it by honest methods itwas the success of James Rossmore. He could never help feelingthat Rossmore had been endowed by Nature with certain qualitieswhich had been denied to him, above all that ability to walkstraight 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 learnedand able of all the members of the judiciary, and his decisionswere noted as much for their fearlessness as for their wisdom. Butwhat was far more, he enjoyed a reputation for absolute integrity.Until now no breath of slander, no suspicion of corruption, hadever touched him. Even his
enemies acknowledged that. And that iswhy there was a panic to-day among the directors of the Southernand Transcontinental Railroad. This honest, upright man had beencalled upon in the course of his duty to decide matters of vitalimportance to the road, and the directors were ready to stampedebecause, in their hearts, they knew the weakness of their case andthe strength of the judge.
Grimsby, unconvinced, returned to the charge.
"What about these newspaper charges? Did Judge Rossmore take abribe from the Great Northwestern or didn't he? You ought toknow."
"I do know," answered the senator cautiously and somewhat curtly,"but until Mr. Ryder arrives I can say nothing. I believe he hasbeen inquiring into the matter. He will tell us when he comes."
The hands of the large clock in the outer room pointed to three.An active, dapper little man with glasses and with books under hisarm passed hurriedly from another office into the directors room.
"There goes Mr. Lane with the minutes. The meeting is called.Where's Mr. Ryder?"
There was a general move of the scattered groups of directorstoward the committee room. The clock overhead began to strike. Thelast stroke had not quite died away when the big swinging doorsfrom the street were thrown open and there entered a tall, thinman, gray-headed, and with a slight stoop, but keen eyed andalert. He was carefully dressed in a well-fitting frock coat,white waistcoat, black tie and silk hat.
It was John Burkett Ryder, the Colossus.