“Seems to be a bit of a connoisseur, too.”
“There’s a paragraph there,” interjected Johnson, “that tells about the cause of his troubles in Chicago; mostly political and social, I take it.”
He waited while Stane read that.
“My word, what a fight!” commented Stane after reading for a moment or two.
“I see they estimate his holdings at twenty millions.”
“All of that, according to these two brokers.
But the most interesting thing they had to report was that he is to be here within a week or two.
And what they want is for me to meet with him, in order to discuss not only this Charing Cross line, which they somehow feel we are going to have to take back, but some such general system as we had in mind.”
“But these fellows Jarkins and Kloorfain,” queried Stane, “who are they, anyway?
Friends of Cowperwood?”
“Not at all, not at all,” explained Johnson quickly.
“On the contrary, as they confess, they are mere bankers’ agents out for a commission, either from Greaves and Henshaw, or Cowperwood, or us, or anyone they can interest; maybe all of us together.
They do not represent the man in any way.”
Stane shrugged his shoulders ironically.
“It seems,” went on Johnson, “they’ve heard from some source that we are interested in a plan of unification, and they’d like me to get together a lot of investors and interest them in Mr. Cowperwood as a leader and then present this unification idea in such a way as to interest him.
For that they want a commission, of course.”
Stane stared amusedly.
“How frightfully jolly for everybody!”
“Of course, I declined that part of it,” continued Johnson, warily. “But I’ve been thinking that there might be something more there than appears on the surface.
There might be some real inquiry on the part of Cowperwood that you and I might want to consider.
For there’s still that Charing Cross millstone around our necks.
Of course, I know very well no American millionaire is going to be allowed to come in here and take charge of our undergrounds.
Still, it is possible that he might be joined up with a group here—yourself, Lord Ettinge, and Haddonfield—and possibly a joint form of control worked out.”
He paused to observe the effect of this on Stane.
“Quite so, Elverson, quite so,” commented Stane.
“If some of the investors are still as much interested as they were a few years ago, we might get them to come back into the fight.
Cowperwood couldn’t very well edge in here without them.”
He got up and walked to one of the windows and looked out, while Johnson proceeded to explain that Jarkins and Kloorfain were to call back in a few days for his decision, and might it not be a good idea to caution them that if they expected to deal with himself or anyone he might be able to influence, they would have to maintain the strictest secrecy and leave everything to him.
“Righto!” said Stane.
This plan, as Johnson now added, would necessarily include not only the Charing Cross line but the Traffic Electrical as the sole owner, or at least as agent for it.
Then once Stane and he had sounded out Haddonfield and Ettinge and others, they could say finally whether even a tentative agreement might be made.
After that, it was entirely possible that Cowperwood would prefer to deal with Stane and himself and these other investors rather than with Jarkins and Kloorfain or Greaves and Henshaw, who, of themselves, could do nothing and hence should be dismissed as mere peddlers.
And with this Stane fully agreed.
But before they had finished talking, it was already dark.
A London fog was on.
Stane recalled a tea, Johnson a legal conference.
And so they parted, with a new elation in the hearts of both.
Accordingly, three days later—the length of time he considered necessary to impress them with his own importance—Johnson sent for Jarkins and Kloorfain and announced that he had laid the matter before some of his friends, and finding them not averse to further knowledge of what was in Cowperwood’s mind, he would, on invitation from Mr. Cowperwood, but not otherwise, see and confer with him.
But only on condition that no prior contacts or arrangements of any kind were made by him. For the men he would try to interest were investors who would, under no circumstances, allow themselves to be trifled with.
With this statement Mr. Johnson rested, while Jarkins and Kloorfain hurried to the nearest cable office to inform Cowperwood of the significant result they had achieved and urge him by all means to come to London; meanwhile, would he be so kind as to suspend consideration of any other proposal, since the coming conference, if it could be brought about, would be all-inclusive in its nature.
The cablegram caused Cowperwood to smile, remembering, as he did, his severe castigation of Jarkins. However, he cabled back that he was very busy at the moment but planned to sail around April fifteenth, and upon his arrival would be glad to see them and hear further as to the nature of their suggestion.
He also cabled Sippens in code that he was coming to London, and informed him of his rejection of the Greaves and Henshaw offer; however, perhaps Sippens could arrange it so that they might hear of his pending arrival, since, apart from them, a large and inclusive proposition, entirely unrelated to their Charing Cross line, was to be presented to him.
This information might bring them to their senses and cause them to make an offer which could be accepted before any other plan could be presented to him.
In that case, he would have a weapon in his possession which might serve to hold his new counsellors in bounds.
And all this time he was also arranging with Berenice, Aileen, and Tollifer for their respective parts in his future plans.
Chapter 21
Meanwhile, though still darkly dubious within the depths of her emotional self, Aileen, throughout all this, could not fail to be impressed by Cowperwood’s sudden change of attitude.
For, somewhat ebullient because of the London idea, Berenice, the prospective change of scene, and all, Cowperwood found himself confiding in Aileen.
He was taking her with him to England. His will, the stewardship of his house, the guardianship of his contemplated bequests, all arranged themselves in her mind as the rather obvious consequences of his Chicago defeat.
Life, as she now saw it, had chosen to deal him a somewhat sobering blow, and at a time in his career when it would naturally be most effective.