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development of the underground system.”
“I ventured to mention the fact, Mr. Johnson,” interpolated Kloorfain here, “that you are referred to from time to time in the newspapers as representing the Metropolitan and the District, as well as the City and South London and the Central of London.”
“That is true,” returned Johnson, seemingly calm and reassured. “I do represent those companies in a legal way. But I’m still not clear as to what you wish. If it relates to the purchase or sale of anything in connection with the Charing Cross and Hampstead line, I am certainly not the person to see.”
“If you will bear with me for just a minute,” persisted Jarkins, leaning closer to Johnson. “The point is just this: that Mr. Cowperwood is divesting himself of all his Chicago street railway holdings, and without those to employ him, he will have nothing to do. He is not the kind of man who would want to quit. He has been working in Chicago, you know, for over twenty-five years. I don’t mean he is running after an investment of any kind. Mr. Greaves and Mr. Henshaw found that out. They were brought to him by our firm: Jarkins, Kloorfain & Randolph. Mr. Kloorfain here is in charge of our London branch.”
Johnson nodded and now listened attentively.
“Of course,” continued Jarkins, “neither Mr. Kloorfain nor myself has the least authority from Mr. Cowperwood to speak for him. But we feel there is something in this London situation which, if put before him by the right person in the right way, might bring about something of great value to whomsoever was connected with it. For I know it to be a fact that Mr. Cowperwood rejected this Charing Cross line, not because he thought it might not pay, but because he was not offered a 51 per cent control, which he always insists on. And then, too, it appeared to him to be just a short branch line which had no important connection with the underground system as a whole, and so could only be operated as a small separate property. He is interested only in the traffic problems of an entire city.”
Jarkins’ voice now took on a note of flattery.
“I asked Mr. Kloorfain,” he said, smoothly, “to take me to the one man who would know most about the London underground situation and grasp the importance of interesting Mr. Cowperwood. For if we understand things correctly,” and here he eyed Mr. Johnson almost ominously, “we feel that the time has come to unify and modernize the entire system, and it is pretty well known that Mr. Cowperwood is a genius in the traction field. He is to be in London shortly, and we feel he should be met and talked to by someone who could make him see the need here for a man like him.
“If you do not care to go into the matter, Mr. Johnson,” and here Jarkins was thinking of Stane and his rumored connections, “you may know someone who would, and perhaps advise us in regard to that person. Of course, we are brokers, and we would like to see Mr. Cowperwood interested, in order that we might come in for our share of the brokerage, which is naturally part of an undertaking like this.”
Johnson sat at his desk and stared, not at either Jarkins or Kloorfain, but at the floor.
“Ahem!” he began. “Mr. Cowperwood is an American multimillionaire. He has had enormous experience in running street railways and elevated roads, I believe, in Chicago and elsewhere. I am supposed to interest him in solving the London underground problem. And if I do, I am supposed to pay you—or at least see that you are paid—for getting Mr. Cowperwood to help some other Londoners interested in the traction field to make money.” He looked up, eyebrows lifted, while Jarkins stared knowingly but without deigning to comment.
“Very practical, I must say,” continued Johnson, “and I don’t doubt there are quite a few who might be benefited, and, again, who might not be. London underground problems are very great. Too many lines already planned, too many different companies to be harmonized, too many acts already acquired by speculators and promoters without a shilling between them.” He stared depressingly at the two men. “A great deal of money would be required, millions of pounds, not less than twenty-five millions, I should say.” He pressed his hands together almost sadly, so great was the financial weight of all this, “Of course, we are not unaware of Mr. Cowperwood over here. If I am not mistaken, there have been charges of various kinds made against him in Chicago—charges, I will admit, that should not stand in the way of the prosecution of a great public enterprise such as you two gentlemen are suggesting—but still, considering the conservatism of the English public…”
“Oh, you mean those political charges against his financial methods in Chicago,” interjected Jarkins defiantly at this point. “Merely politics, the work of financial rivals, jealous because of his success.”
“I know, I know,” interrupted Mr. Johnson, still depressively. “Financial men everywhere naturally understand and discount that sort of opposition. At the same time, he would meet with opposition here. For this is a very conservative and tight little island. And we do not like outsiders to come in and manage our affairs for us. However, as you say, Mr. Cowperwood is plainly a very able and resourceful man. Whether there are people here who might care to join with him, I cannot say. Certainly I know that there are few, if any, who would be willing to grant him the sole financial control of such a system as you speak of,” and here he got up and brushed from his trousers and waistcoat some flecks of imaginary dust. “He has, you say, rejected the Greaves and Henshaw offer?” he added.
“He has,” echoed both Jarkins and Kloorfain.
“But what were their exact terms?”
Jarkins explained.
“I see, I see. So they wished to retain their contract and 50 per cent. Well, until I have had time to think about this and consult with one or two of my associates, I shall be unable to offer an opinion one way or the other. However,” he added, “it may be worth while for some of the leading investors to talk with him when he gets here.”
Actually, by now, Johnson was of the opinion that Cowperwood was sending these two men about to spy out the situation. In addition, however, he was doubtful as to whether Cowperwood, being an American, and however great his wealth, would ever be able to wrest from the present management even so much as a 50 per cent division. It would be extremely difficult for him to enter this field. At the same time, considering his own and Stane’s investments, and the Charing Cross still likely to be thrown back on Traffic Electrical, and so bring about the loss of more money for its investors, well…
He addressed the two men now in a tone of finality.
“I shall have to think the matter over, gentlemen. Call me again, say next Tuesday or Wednesday, and I will tell you finally whether I can be of help to you.”
And with that he led the way to the door and pulled a bell in order that an office boy might show his visitors to the street door. After they had gone, he walked to one of the windows that looked down into the ancient court, where the April sun was still brightly shining. He had a habit, when thinking, of placing his tongue in his cheek and clasping his hands in a prayerful position, fingers down. In this instance he stood so for some time, staring out the window.
And outside in Storey Street, Kloorfain and Jarkins were saying, one to the other: “Excellent! Very shrewd fellow, that… but really interested… it’s a way out for them, if only they have the sense to see it…”
“But that Chicago business! I knew it would come up!” exclaimed Jarkins. “It always does: that prison record of his, or his interest in women… as though that made any difference in this case.”
“Stupid! Unbelievably stupid!” echoed Kloorfain.
“Just the same, something will have to be done about it. We’ll have to fix the press some way,” said Jarkins.
“Let me tell you one