CHAPTER IX
The library was the most important room in the Ryder mansion, forit was there that the Colossus carried through his most importantbusiness deals, and its busiest hours were those which most mendevote to rest. But John Burkett Ryder never rested. There couldbe no rest for any man who had a thousand millions of dollars totake care of. Like Macbeth, he could sleep no more. When the humof business life had ceased down town and he returned home fromthe tall building in lower Broadway, then his real work began. Theday had been given to mere business routine; in his own library atnight, free from inquisitive ears and prying eyes, he could devisenew schemes for strengthening his grip upon the country, he couldevolve more gigantic plans for adding to his already countlessmillions.
Here the money Moloch held court like any king, with as muchceremony and more secrecy, and having for his courtiers some ofthe most prominent men in the political and industrial life ofthe nation. Corrupt senators, grafting Congressmen, ambitiousrailroad presidents, insolent coal barons who impudently claimedthey administered the coal lands in trust for the Almighty,unscrupulous princes of finance and commerce, all visited thisroom to receive orders or pay from the head of the "System."Here were made and unmade governors of States, mayors of cities,judges, heads of police, cabinet ministers, even presidents. Herewere turned over to confidential agents millions of dollars tooverturn the people's vote in the National elections; here weredistributed yearly hundreds of thousands of dollars to grafters,large and small, who had earned it in the service of the"interests."
Here, secretly and unlawfully, the heads of railroads met to agreeon rates which by discriminating against one locality in favour ofanother crushed out competition, raised the cost to the consumer,and put millions in the pockets of the Trust. Here were plannedtricky financial operations, with deliberate intent to mislead anddeceive the investing public, operations which would send stockssoaring one day, only a week later to put Wall Street on the vergeof panic. Half a dozen suicides might result from the coup, buttwice as many millions of profits had gone into the coffers of the"System." Here, too, was perpetrated the most heinous crime thatcan be committed against a free people--the conspiring of theTrusts abetted by the railroads, to arbitrarily raise the pricesof the necessaries of life--meat, coal, oil, ice, gas--whollywithout other justification than that of greed, which, with thesemen, was the unconquerable, all-absorbing passion. In short,everything that unscrupulous leaders of organized capital coulddevise to squeeze the life blood out of the patient, defencelesstoiler was done within these four walls.
It was a handsome room, noble in proportions and abundantlylighted by three large and deeply recessed, mullioned windows, onein the middle of the room and one at either end. The lofty ceilingwas a marvellously fine example of panelled oak of Gothic design,decorated with gold, and the shelves for books which lined thewalls were likewise of oak, richly carved. In the centre of thewall facing the windows was a massive and elaborately designed oakchimney-piece, reaching up to the ceiling, and having in themiddle panel over the mantel a fine three-quarter length portraitof George Washington. The room was furnished sumptuously yetquietly, and fully in keeping with the rich collection of classicand modern authors that filled the bookcases, and in corners hereand there stood pedestals with marble busts of Shakespeare, Goetheand Voltaire. It was the retreat of a scholar rather than of a manof affairs.
When Jefferson entered, his father was seated at his desk, a longblack cigar between his lips, giving instructions to Mr. Bagley.Mr. Ryder looked up quickly as the door opened and the secretarymade a movement forward as if to eject the intruder, no matter whohe might be. They were not accustomed to having people enter thesanctum of the Colossus so unceremoniously. But when he saw who itwas, Mr. Ryder's stern, set face relaxed and he greeted his sonamiably.
"Why, Jeff, my boy, is that you? Just a moment, until I get rid ofBagley, and I'll be with you."
Jefferson turned to the book shelves and ran over the titles whilethe financier continued his business with the secretary.
"Now, Bagley. Come, quick. What is it?"
He spoke in a rapid, explosive manner, like a man who has only afew moments to spare before he must rush to catch a train. JohnRyder had been catching trains all his life, and he had seldommissed one.
"Governor Rice called. He wants an appointment," said Mr. Bagley,holding out a card.
"I can't see him. Tell him so," came the answer, quick as a flash."Who else?" he demanded. "Where's your list?"
Mr. Bagley took from the desk a list of names and read them over.
"General Abbey telephoned. He says you promised--"
"Yes, yes," interrupted Ryder impatiently, "but not here. Downtown, to-morrow, any time. Next?"
The secretary jotted down a note against each name and then said:
"There are some people downstairs in the reception room. They arehere by appointment."
"Who are they?"
"The National Republican Committee and Sergeant Ellison of theSecret Service from Washington," replied Mr. Bagley.
"Who was here first?" demanded the financier.
"Sergeant Ellison, sir."
"Then I'll see him first, and the Committee afterwards. But letthem all wait until I ring. I wish to speak with my son."
He waved his hand and the secretary, knowing well from experiencethat this was a sign that there must be no further discussion,bowed respectfully and left the room. Jefferson turned andadvanced towards his father, who held out his hand.
"Well, Jefferson," he said kindly, "did you have a good timeabroad?"
"Yes, sir, thank you. Such a trip is a liberal education initself."
"Ready for work again, eh? I'm glad you're back, Jefferson. I'mbusy now, but one of these days I want to have a serious talk withyou in regard to your future. This artist business is all verywell--for a pastime. But it's not a career--surely you canappreciate that--for a young man with such prospects as yours.Have you ever stopped to think of that?"
Jefferson was silent. He did not want to displease his father; onthe other hand, it was impossible to let things drift as they hadbeen doing. There must be an understanding sooner or later. Whynot now?
"The truth is, sir," he began timidly, "I'd like a little talkwith you now, if you can spare the time."
Ryder, Sr., looked first at his watch and then at his son, who,ill at ease, sat nervously on the extreme edge of a chair. Then hesaid with a smile:
"Well, my boy, to be perfectly frank, I can't--but--I will.Come, what is it?" Then, as if to apologize for his previousabruptness, he added, "I've had a very busy day, Jeff. What withTrans-Continental and Trans-Atlantic and Southern Pacific, andWall Street, and Rate Bills, and Washington I feel like Atlasshouldering the world."
"The world wasn't intended for one pair of shoulders to carry,sir," rejoined Jefferson calmly.
His father looked at him in amazement. It was something new tohear anyone venturing to question or comment upon anything hesaid.
"Why not?" he demanded, when he had recovered from his surprise."Julius Caesar carried it. Napoleon carried it--to a certainextent. However, that's neither here nor there. What is it, boy?"
Unable to remain a moment inactive, he commenced to pick among themass of papers on his desk, while Jefferson was thinking what tosay. The last word his father uttered gave him a cue, and heblurted out protestingly:
"That's just it, sir. You forget that I'm no longer a boy. It'stime to treat me as if I were a man."
Ryder, Sr., leaned back in his chair and laughed heartily.
"A man at twenty-eight? That's an excellent joke. Do you know thata man doesn't get his horse sense till he's forty?"
"I want you to take me seriously," persisted Jefferson.
Ryder, Sr., was not a patient man. His moments of good humour wereof brief duration. Anything that savoured of questioning hisauthority always angered him. The smile went out of his face andhe retorted explosively:
"Go on--damn it all! Be serious if y
ou want, only don't take solong about it. But understand one thing. I want no preaching, nophilosophical or socialistic twaddle. No Tolstoi--he's a greatthinker, and you're not. No Bernard Shaw--he's funny, and you'renot. Now go ahead."
This beginning was not very encouraging, and Jefferson feltsomewhat intimidated. But he realized that he might not haveanother such opportunity, so he plunged right in.
"I should have spoken to you before if you had let me," he said."I often--"
"If I let you?" interrupted his father. "Do you expect me to sitand listen patiently to your wild theories of social reform? Youasked me one day why the wages of the idle rich was wealth and thewages of hard work was poverty, and I told you that I workedharder in one day than a tunnel digger works in a life-time.Thinking is a harder game than any. You must think or you won'tknow. Napoleon knew more about war than all his generals puttogether. I know more about money than any man living to-day. Theman who knows is the man who wins. The man who takes advice isn'tfit to give it. That's why I never take yours. Come, don't be afool, Jeff--give up this art nonsense. Come back to the TradingCompany. I'll make you vice-president, and I'll teach you thebusiness of making millions."
Jefferson shook his head. It was hard to have to tell his ownfather that he did not think the million-making business quite arespectable one, so he only murmured:
"It's impossible, father. I am devoted to my work. I even intendto go away and travel a few years and see the world. It will helpme considerably."
Ryder, Sr., eyed his son in silence for a few moments; then hesaid gently:
"Don't be obstinate, Jeff. Listen to me. I know the world betterthan you do. You mustn't go away. You are the only flesh and bloodI have."
He stopped speaking for a moment, as if overcome by a suddenemotion over which he had no control. Jefferson remained silent,nervously toying with a paper cutter. Seeing that his words hadmade no effect, Ryder thumped his desk with his fist and cried:
"You see my weakness. You see that I want you with me, and now youtake advantage--you take advantage--"
"No, father, I don't," protested Jefferson; "but I want to goaway. Although I have my studio and am practically independent, Iwant to go where I shall be perfectly free--where my every movewill not be watched--where I can meet my fellow-man heart to hearton an equal basis, where I shall not be pointed out as the son ofReady Money Ryder. I want to make a reputation of my own as anartist."
"Why not study theology and become a preacher?" sneered Ryder.Then, more amiably, he said: "No, my lad, you stay here. Study myinterests--study the interests that will be yours some day."
"No," said Jefferson doggedly, "I'd rather go--my work and myself-respect demand it."
"Then go, damn it, go!" cried his father in a burst of anger. "I'ma fool for wasting my time with an ungrateful son." He rose fromhis seat and began to pace the room.
"Father," exclaimed Jefferson starting forward, "you do me aninjustice."
"An injustice?" echoed Mr. Ryder turning round. "Ye gods! I'vegiven you the biggest name in the commercial world; the mostcolossal fortune ever accumulated by one man is waiting for you,and you say I've done you an injustice!"
"Yes--we are rich," said Jefferson bitterly. "But at what a cost!You do not go into the world and hear the sneers that I geteverywhere. You may succeed in muzzling the newspapers andmagazines, but you cannot silence public opinion. People laughwhen they hear the name Ryder--when they do not weep. All yourmillions cannot purchase the world's respect. You try to throwmillions to the public as a bone to a dog, and they decline themoney on the ground that it is tainted. Doesn't that tell you whatthe world thinks of your methods?"
Ryder laughed cynically. He went back to his desk, and, sittingfacing his son, he replied:
"Jefferson, you are young. It is one of the symptoms of youth toworry about public opinion. When you are as old as I am you willunderstand that there is only one thing which counts in thisworld--money. The man who has it possesses power over the man whohas it not, and power is what the ambitious man loves most."
He stopped to pick up a book. It was "The American Octopus."Turning again to his son, he went on:
"Do you see this book? It is the literary sensation of the year.Why? Because it attacks me--the richest man in the world. It holdsme up as a monster, a tyrant, a man without soul, honour orconscience, caring only for one thing--money; having but onepassion--the love of power, and halting at nothing, not even atcrime, to secure it. That is the portrait they draw of yourfather."
Jefferson said nothing. He was wondering if his sire had asuspicion who wrote it and was leading up to that. But Ryder, Sr.,continued:
"Do I care? The more they attack me the more I like it. Their punypen pricks have about the same effect as mosquito bites on thepachyderm. What I am, the conditions of my time made me. When Istarted in business a humble clerk, forty years ago, I had but onegoal--success; I had but one aim--to get rich. I was lucky. I madea little money, and I soon discovered that I could make more moneyby outwitting my competitors in the oil fields. Railroadconditions helped me. The whole country was money mad. A wave ofcommercial prosperity swept over the land and I was carried alongon its crest. I grew enormously rich, my millions increasing byleaps and bounds. I branched out into other interests, successfulalways, until my holdings grew to what they are to-day--the wonderof the twentieth century. What do I care for the world's respectwhen my money makes the world my slave? What respect can I havefor a people that cringe before money and let it rule them? Areyou aware that not a factory wheel turns, not a vote is counted,not a judge is appointed, not a legislator seated, not a presidentelected without my consent? I am the real ruler of the UnitedStates--not the so-called government at Washington. They are mypuppets and this is my executive chamber. This power will be yoursone day, boy, but you must know how to use it when it comes."
"I never want it, father," said Jefferson firmly. "To me yourwords savour of treason. I couldn't imagine that American talkingthat way." He pointed to the mantel, at the picture of GeorgeWashington.
Ryder, Sr., laughed. He could not help it if his son was anidealist. There was no use getting angry, so he merely shruggedhis shoulders and said:
"All right, Jeff. We'll discuss the matter later, when you've cutyour wisdom teeth. Just at present you're in the clouds. But youspoke of my doing you an injustice. How can my love of power doyou an injustice?"
"Because," replied Jefferson, "you exert that power over yourfamily as well as over your business associates. You think andwill for everybody in the house, for everyone who comes in contactwith you. Yours is an influence no one seems able to resist. Yourobbed me of my right to think. Ever since I was old enough tothink, you have thought for me; ever since I was old enough tochoose, you have chosen for me. You have chosen that I shouldmarry Kate Roberts. That is the one thing I wished to speak to youabout. The marriage is impossible."
Ryder, Sr., half sprang from his seat. He had listened patiently,he thought, to all that his headstrong son had said, but that heshould repudiate in this unceremonious fashion what was a tacitunderstanding between the two families, and, what was more, runthe risk of injuring the Ryder interests--that was inconceivable.Leaving his desk, he advanced into the centre of the room, andfolding his arms confronted Jefferson.
"So," he said sternly, "this is your latest act of rebellion, isit? You are going to welsh on your word? You are going to jilt thegirl?"
"I never gave my word," answered Jefferson hotly. "Nor did Kateunderstand that an engagement existed. You can't expect me tomarry a girl I don't care a straw about. It would not be fair toher."
"Have you stopped to think whether it would be fair to me?"thundered his father.
His face was pale with anger, his jet-black eyes flashed, and hiswhite hair seemed to bristle with rage. He paced the floor for afew moments, and then turning to Jefferson, who had not moved, hesaid more calmly:
"Don't be a fool, Jeff. I don't want to think for you, or tochoose for you, or to ma
rry for you. I did not interfere when youthrew up the position I made for you in the Trading Company andtook that studio. I realized that you were restless under theharness, so I gave you plenty of rein. But I know so much betterthan you what is best for you. Believe me I do. Don't--don't beobstinate. This marriage means a great deal to my interests--toyour interests. Kate's father is all powerful in the Senate. He'llnever forgive this disappointment. Hang it all, you liked the girlonce, and I made sure that--"
He stopped suddenly, and the expression on his face changed as anew light dawned upon him.
"It isn't that Rossmore girl, is it?" he demanded. His face grewdark and his jaw clicked as he said between his teeth: "I told yousome time ago how I felt about her. If I thought that it wasRossmore's daughter! You know what's going to happen to him, don'tyou?"
Thus appealed to, Jefferson thought this was the most favourableopportunity he would have to redeem his promise to Shirley. So,little anticipating the tempest he was about to unchain, heanswered:
"I am familiar with the charges that they have trumped up againsthim. Needless to say, I consider him entirely innocent. What'smore, I firmly believe he is the victim of a contemptibleconspiracy. And I'm going to make it my business to find out whothe plotters are. I came to ask you to help me. Will you?"
For a moment Ryder was speechless from utter astonishment. Then,as he realized the significance of his son's words and theirapplication to himself he completely lost control of himself. Hisface became livid, and he brought his fist down on his desk with aforce that shook the room.
"I will see him in hell first!" he cried. "Damn him! He has alwaysopposed me. He has always defied my power, and now his daughterhas entrapped my son. So it's her you want to go to, eh? Well, Ican't make you marry a girl you don't want, but I can prevent youthrowing yourself away on the daughter of a man who is about to bepublicly disgraced, and, by God, I will."
"Poor old Rossmore," said Jefferson bitterly. "If the history ofevery financial transaction were made known, how many of us wouldescape public disgrace? Would you?" he cried.
Ryder, Sr., rose, his hands working dangerously. He made amovement as if about to advance on his son, but by a supremeeffort he controlled himself.
"No, upon my word, it's no use disinheriting you, you wouldn'tcare. I think you'd be glad; on my soul, I do!" Then calming downonce more, he added: "Jefferson, give me your word of honour thatyour object in going away is not to find out this girl and marryher unknown to me. I don't mind your losing your heart, but, damnit, don't lose your head. Give me your hand on it."
Jefferson reluctantly held out his hand.
"If I thought you would marry that girl unknown to me, I'd haveRossmore sent out of the country and the woman too. Listen, boy.This man is my enemy, and I show no mercy to my enemies. There aremore reasons than one why you cannot marry Miss Rossmore. If sheknew one of them she would not marry you."
"What reasons?" demanded Jefferson.
"The principal one," said Ryder, slowly and deliberately, andeyeing his son keenly as if to judge of the effect of his words,"the principal one is that it was through my agents that thedemand was made for her father's impeachment."
"Ah," cried Jefferson, "then I guessed aright! Oh, father, howcould you have done that? If you only knew him!"
Ryder, Sr., had regained command of his temper, and now spokecalmly enough.
"Jefferson, I don't have to make any apologies to you for the wayI conduct my business. The facts contained in the charge werebrought to my attention. I did not see why I should spare him. Henever spared me. I shall not interfere, and the probabilities arethat he will be impeached. Senator Roberts said this afternoonthat it was a certainty. You see yourself how impossible amarriage with Miss Rossmore would be, don't you?"
"Yes, father, I see now. I have nothing more to say."
"Do you still intend going away?"
"Yes," replied Jefferson bitterly. "Why not? You have taken awaythe only reason why I should stay."
"Think it well over, lad. Marry Kate or not, as you please, but Iwant you to stay here."
"It's no use. My mind is made up," answered Jefferson decisively.
The telephone rang, and Jefferson got up to go. Mr. Ryder took upthe receiver.
"Hallo! What's that? Sergeant Ellison? Yes, send him up."
Putting the telephone down, Ryder, Sr., rose, and crossing theroom accompanied his son to the door.
"Think it well over, Jeff. Don't be hasty."
"I have thought it over, sir, and I have decided to go."
A few moments later Jefferson left the house.
Ryder, Sr., went back to his desk and sat for a moment in deepthought. For the first time in his life he was face to face withdefeat; for the first time he had encountered a will as strong ashis own. He who could rule parliaments and dictate to governmentsnow found himself powerless to rule his own son. At all costs, hemused, the boy's infatuation for Judge Rossmore's daughter must bechecked, even if he had to blacken the girl's character as well asthe father's, or, as a last resort, send the entire family out ofthe country. He had not lost sight of his victim since thecarefully prepared crash in Wall Street, and the sale of theRossmore home following the bankruptcy of the Great NorthwesternMining Company. His agents had reported their settlement in thequiet little village on Long Island, and he had also learned ofMiss Rossmore's arrival from Europe, which coincided strangelywith the home-coming of his own son. He decided, therefore, tokeep a closer watch on Massapequa now than ever, and that is whyto-day's call of Sergeant Ellison, a noted sleuth in thegovernment service, found so ready a welcome.
The door opened, and Mr. Bagley entered, followed by a tall,powerfully built man whose robust physique and cheap lookingclothes contrasted strangely with the delicate, ultra-fashionablyattired English secretary.
"Take a seat, Sergeant," said Mr. Ryder, cordially motioning hisvisitor to a chair. The man sat down gingerly on one of the richleather-upholstered chairs. His manner was nervous and awkward, asif intimidated in the presence of the financier.
"Are the Republican Committee still waiting?" demanded Mr. Ryder.
"Yes, sir," replied the secretary.
"I'll see them in a few minutes. Leave me with Sergeant Ellison."
Mr. Bagley bowed and retired.
"Well, Sergeant, what have you got to report?"
He opened a box of cigars that stood on the desk and held it outto the detective.
"Take a cigar," he said amiably.
The man took a cigar, and also the match which Mr. Ryder held out.The financier knew how to be cordial with those who could servehim.
"Thanks. This is a good one," smiled the sleuth, sniffing at theweed. "We don't often get a chance at such as these."
"It ought to be good," laughed Ryder. "They cost two dollarsapiece."
The detective was so surprised at this unheard of extravagancethat he inhaled a puff of smoke which almost choked him. It waslike burning money.
Ryder, with his customary bluntness, came right down to business.
"Well, what have you been doing about the book?" he demanded."Have you found the author of 'The American Octopus'?"
"No, sir, I have not. I confess I'm baffled. The secret has beenwell kept. The publishers have shut up like a clam. There's onlyone thing that I'm pretty well sure of."
"What's that?" demanded Ryder, interested.
"That no such person as Shirley Green exists."
"Oh," exclaimed the financier, "then you think it is a mere _nomde plume_?"
"Yes, sir."
"And what do you think was the reason for preserving theanonymity?"
"Well, you see, sir, the book deals with a big subject. It givessome hard knocks, and the author, no doubt, felt a little timidabout launching it under his or her real name. At least that's mytheory, sir."
"And a good one, no doubt," said Mr. Ryder. Then he added: "Thatmakes me all the more anxious to find out who it is. I wouldwillingly give this moment a check for $5,
000 to know who wroteit. Whoever it is, knows me as well as I know myself. We must findthe author."
The sleuth was silent for a moment. Then he said:
"There might be one way to reach the author, but it will besuccessful only in the event of her being willing to be known andcome out into the open. Suppose you write to her in care of thepublishers. They would certainly forward the letter to wherevershe may be. If she does not want you to know who she is she willignore your letter and remain in the background. If, on thecontrary, she has no fear of you, and is willing to meet you, shewill answer the letter."
"Ah, I never thought of that!" exclaimed Ryder. "It's a good idea.I'll write such a letter at once. It shall go to-night."
He unhooked the telephone and asked Mr. Bagley to come up. A fewseconds later the secretary entered the room.
"Bagley," said Mr. Ryder, "I want you to write a letter for me toMiss Shirley Green, author of that book 'The American Octopus.' Wewill address it care of her publishers, Littleton & Co. Just saythat if convenient I should like a personal interview with her atmy office, No. 36 Broadway, in relation to her book, 'The AmericanOctopus.' See that it is mailed to-night. That's all."
Mr. Bagley bowed and retired. Mr. Ryder turned to the secretservice agent.
"There, that's settled. We'll see how it works. And now, Sergeant,I have another job for you, and if you are faithful to myinterests you will not find me unappreciative. Do you know alittle place on Long Island called Massapequa?"
"Yes," grinned the detective, "I know it. They've got some finespecimens of 'skeeters' there."
Paying no attention to this jocularity, Mr. Ryder continued:
"Judge Rossmore is living there--pending the outcome of his casein the Senate. His daughter has just arrived from Europe. My sonJefferson came home on the same ship. They are a little morefriendly than I care to have them. You understand. I want to knowif my son visits the Rossmores, and if he does I wish to be keptinformed of all that's going on. You understand?"
"Perfectly, sir. You shall know everything."
Mr. Ryder took a blank check from his desk and proceeded to fillit up. Then handing it to the detective, he said:
"Here is $500 for you. Spare neither trouble or expense."
"Thank you, sir," said the man as he pocketed the money. "Leave itto me."
"That's about all, I think. Regarding the other matter, we'll seehow the letter works."
He touched a bell and rose, which was a signal to the visitor thatthe interview was at an end. Mr. Bagley entered.
"Sergeant Ellison is going," said Mr. Ryder. "Have him shown out,and send the Republican Committee up."