The old contractor listened solemnly to all Cowperwood had to say on this score, thinking of the effect on the Republican party and his own contracting interests. He liked Cowperwood, but this was a rough thing the latter was telling him--rough, and a great deal to ask. He was a slow-thinking and a slow-moving man, but he did well enough when he did think. He had considerable money invested in Philadelphia street-railway stocks--perhaps as much as eight hundred thousand dollars. Mollenhauer had perhaps as much more.
Whether Senator Simpson had much or little he could not tell.
Cowperwood had told him in the past that he thought the Senator had a good deal. Most of their holdings, as in the case of Cowperwood's, were hypothecated at the various banks for loans and these loans invested in other ways. It was not advisable or comfortable to have these loans called, though the condition of no one of the triumvirate was anything like as bad as that of Cowperwood. They could see themselves through without much trouble, though not without probable loss unless they took hurried action to protect themselves.
He would not have thought so much of it if Cowperwood had told him that Stener was involved, say, to the extent of seventy-five or a hundred thousand dollars. That might be adjusted. But five hundred thousand dollars!
"That's a lot of money," said Butler, thinking of the amazing audacity of Stener, but failing at the moment to identify it with the astute machinations of Cowperwood. "That's something to think about. There's no time to lose if there's going to be a panic in the morning. How much good will it do ye if we do support the market?"
"A great deal," returned Cowperwood, "although of course I have to raise money in other ways. I have that one hundred thousand dollars of yours on deposit. Is it likely that you'll want that right away?"
"It may be," said Butler.
"It's just as likely that I'll need it so badly that I can't give it up without seriously injuring myself," added Cowperwood. "That's just one of a lot of things. If you and Senator Simpson and Mr. Mollenhauer were to get together--you're the largest holders of street-railway stocks--and were to see Mr. Drexel and Mr. Cooke, you could fix things so that matters would be considerably easier.
I will be all right if my loans are not called, and my loans will not be called if the market does not slump too heavily. If it does, all my securities are depreciated, and I can't hold out."
Old Butler got up. "This is serious business," he said. "I wish you'd never gone in with Stener in that way. It don't look quite right and it can't be made to. It's bad, bad business," he added dourly. "Still, I'll do what I can. I can't promise much, but I've always liked ye and I'll not be turning on ye now unless I have to. But I'm sorry--very. And I'm not the only one that has a hand in things in this town." At the same time he was thinking it was right decent of Cowperwood to forewarn him this way in regard to his own affairs and the city election, even though he was saving his own neck by so doing. He meant to do what he could.
"I don't suppose you could keep this matter of Stener and the city treasury quiet for a day or two until I see how I come out?" suggested Cowperwood warily.
"I can't promise that," replied Butler. "I'll have to do the best I can. I won't lave it go any further than I can help--you can depend on that." He was thinking how the effect of Stener's crime could be overcome if Cowperwood failed.
"Owen!"
He stepped to the door, and, opening it, called down over the banister.
"Yes, father."
"Have Dan hitch up the light buggy and bring it around to the door. And you get your hat and coat. I want you to go along with me."
"Yes, father."
He came back.
"Sure that's a nice little storm in a teapot, now, isn't it?
Chicago begins to burn, and I have to worry here in Philadelphia.
Well, well--" Cowperwood was up now and moving to the door. "And where are you going?"
"Back to the house. I have several people coming there to see me.
But I'll come back here later, if I may."
"Yes, yes," replied Butler. "To be sure I'll be here by midnight, anyhow. Well, good night. I'll see you later, then, I suppose.
I'll tell you what I find out."
He went back in his room for something, and Cowperwood descended the stair alone. From the hangings of the reception-room entryway Aileen signaled him to draw near.
"I hope it's nothing serious, honey?" she sympathized, looking into his solemn eyes.
It was not time for love, and he felt it.
"No," he said, almost coldly, "I think not."
"Frank, don't let this thing make you forget me for long, please.
You won't, will you? I love you so."
"No, no, I won't!" he replied earnestly, quickly and yet absently.
"I can't! Don't you know I won't?" He had started to kiss her, but a noise disturbed him. "Sh!"
He walked to the door, and she followed him with eager, sympathetic eyes.
What if anything should happen to her Frank? What if anything could?
What would she do? That was what was troubling her. What would, what could she do to help him? He looked so pale--strained.