Full Text Archive

Full Text Archive
https://www.fulltextarchive.com
as usual. The defalcation--if Cowperwood's failure made Stener's loan into one--could be
concealed long enough, Mollenhauer thought, to win. Personally as it came to him now he
would prefer to frighten Stener into refusing Cowperwood additional aid, and then raid the
latter's street-railway stock in combination with everybody else's, for that matter--Simpson's and
Butler's included. One of the big sources of future wealth in Philadelphia lay in these lines. For
the present, however, he had to pretend an interest in saving the party at the polls.
"I can't speak for the Senator, that's sure," pursued Mollenhauer, reflectively. "I don't know what
he may think. As for myself, I am perfectly willing to do what I can to keep up the price of stocks,
if that will do any good. I would do so naturally in order to protect my loans. The thing that we
ought to be thinking about, in my judgment, is how to prevent exposure, in case Mr.
Cowperwood does fail, until after election. We have no assurance, of course, that however
much we support the market we will be able to sustain it."
"We have not," replied Butler, solemnly.
Owen thought he could see Cowperwood's approaching doom quite plainly. At that moment the
door-bell rang. A maid, in the absence of the footman, brought in the name of Senator Simpson.
"Just the man," said Mollenhauer. "Show him up. You can see what he thinks."
"Perhaps I had better leave you alone now," suggested Owen to his father. "Perhaps I can find
Miss Caroline, and she will sing for me. I'll wait for you, father," he added.
Mollenhauer cast him an ingratiating smile, and as he stepped out Senator Simpson walked in.
A more interesting type of his kind than Senator Mark Simpson never flourished in the State of
Pennsylvania, which has been productive of interesting types. Contrasted with either of the two
men who now greeted him warmly and shook his hand, he was physically unimpressive. He was
small--five feet nine inches, to Mollenhauer's six feet and Butler's five feet eleven inches and a
half, and then his face was smooth, with a receding jaw. In the other two this feature was
prominent. Nor were his eyes as frank as those of Butler, nor as defiant as those of
Mollenhauer; but for subtlety they were unmatched by either--deep, strange, receding,
cavernous eyes which contemplated you as might those of a cat looking out of a dark hole, and
suggesting all the artfulness that has ever distinguished the feline family. He had a strange mop
of black hair sweeping down over a fine, low, white forehead, and a skin as pale and bluish as
poor health might make it; but there was, nevertheless, resident here a strange, resistant,
capable force that ruled men--the subtlety with which he knew how to feed cupidity with hope
and gain and the ruthlessness with which he repaid those who said him nay. He was a still man,
as such a man might well have been--feeble and fish-like in his handshake, wan and slightly
lackadaisical in his smile, but speaking always with eyes that answered for every defect.
"Av'nin', Mark, I'm glad to see you," was Butler's greeting.
"How are you, Edward?" came the quiet reply.
"Well, Senator, you're not looking any the worse for wear. Can I pour you something?"
"Nothing to-night, Henry," replied Simpson. "I haven't long to stay. I just stopped by on my way
117 / 312

---