Full Text Archive

Full Text Archive
https://www.fulltextarchive.com
He saw at once that the city was curiously arranged, somewhat like Philadelphia, and that the
business section was probably an area of two or three miles square, set at the juncture of the
three sides, and lying south of the main stem of the river, where it flowed into the lake after the
southwest and northwest branches had united to form it. This was a significant central area; but,
according to this map, it was all burned out. "Chicago in Ashes" ran a great side-heading set in
heavily leaded black type. It went on to detail the sufferings of the homeless, the number of the
dead, the number of those whose fortunes had been destroyed. Then it descanted upon the
probable effect in the East. Insurance companies and manufacturers might not be able to meet
the great strain of all this.
"Damn!" said Cowperwood gloomily. "I wish I were out of this stock-jobbing business. I wish I
had never gotten into it." He returned to his drawing-room and scanned both accounts most
carefully.
Then, though it was still early, he and his father drove to his office. There were already
messages awaiting him, a dozen or more, to cancel or sell. While he was standing there a
messenger-boy brought him three more. One was from Stener and said that he would be back
by twelve o'clock, the very earliest he could make it. Cowperwood was relieved and yet
distressed. He would need large sums of money to meet various loans before three. Every hour
was precious. He must arrange to meet Stener at the station and talk to him before any one
else should see him. Clearly this was going to be a hard, dreary, strenuous day.
Third Street, by the time he reached there, was stirring with other bankers and brokers called
forth by the exigencies of the occasion. There was a suspicious hurrying of feet--that intensity
which makes all the difference in the world between a hundred people placid and a hundred
people disturbed. At the exchange, the atmosphere was feverish. At the sound of the gong, the
staccato uproar began. Its metallic vibrations were still in the air when the two hundred men who
composed this local organization at its utmost stress of calculation, threw themselves upon each
other in a gibbering struggle to dispose of or seize bargains of the hour. The interests were so
varied that it was impossible to say at which pole it was best to sell or buy.
Targool and Rivers had been delegated to stay at the center of things, Joseph and Edward to
hover around on the outside and to pick up such opportunities of selling as might offer a
reasonable return on the stock. The "bears" were determined to jam things down, and it all
depended on how well the agents of Mollenhauer, Simpson, Butler, and others supported things
in the street-railway world whether those stocks retained any strength or not. The last thing
Butler had said the night before was that they would do the best they could. They would buy up
to a certain point. Whether they would support the market indefinitely he would not say. He
could not vouch for Mollenhauer and Simpson. Nor did he know the condition of their affairs.
While the excitement was at its highest Cowperwood came in. As he stood in the door looking to
catch the eye of Rivers, the 'change gong sounded, and trading stopped. All the brokers and
traders faced about to the little balcony, where the secretary of the 'change made his
announcements; and there he stood, the door open behind him, a small, dark, clerkly man of
thirty-eight or forty, whose spare figure and pale face bespoke the methodic mind that knows no
venturous thought. In his right hand he held a slip of white paper.
"The American Fire Insurance Company of Boston announces its inability to meet its
obligations." The gong sounded again.
123 / 312

---