Kabanata Kabanata 48 · The trip home did bring another week with Mrs. Gerald, for after
mature consideration she had decided to venture to America for a
while. Chicago and Cincinnati were her destinations, and she hoped to
see more of Lester. Her presence was a good deal of a surprise to
Jennie, and it started her thinking again. She could see what the
point was. If she were out of the way Mrs. Gerald would marry Lester;
that was certain. As it was--well, the question was a complicated
one. Letty was Lester's natural mate, so far as birth, breeding, and
position went. And yet Jennie felt instinctively that, on the large
human side, Lester preferred her. Perhaps time would solve the
problem; in the mean time the little party of three continued to
remain excellent friends. When they reached Chicago Mrs. Gerald went
her way, and Jennie and Lester took up the customary thread of their
existence.
On his return from Europe Lester set to work in earnest to find a
business opening. None of the big companies made him any overtures,
principally because he was considered a strong man who was looking for
a control in anything he touched. The nature of his altered fortunes
had not been made public. All the little companies that he
investigated were having a hand-to-mouth existence, or manufacturing a
product which was not satisfactory to him. He did find one company in
a small town in northern Indiana which looked as though it might have
a future. It was controlled by a practical builder of wagons and
carriages--such as Lester's father had been in his day--who,
however, was not a good business man. He was making some small money
on an investment of fifteen thousand dollars and a plant worth, say,
twenty-five thousand. Lester felt that something could be done here if
proper methods were pursued and business acumen exercised. It would be
slow work. There would never be a great fortune in it. Not in his
lifetime. He was thinking of making an offer to the small manufacturer
when the first rumors of a carriage trust reached him.
Robert had gone ahead rapidly with his scheme for reorganizing the
carriage trade. He showed his competitors how much greater profits
could be made through consolidation than through a mutually
destructive rivalry. So convincing were his arguments that one by one
the big carriage manufacturing companies fell into line. Within a few
months the deal had been pushed through, and Robert found himself
president of the United Carriage and Wagon Manufacturers' Association,
with a capital stock of ten million dollars, and with assets
aggregating nearly three-fourths of that sum at a forced sale. He was
a happy man.
While all this was going forward Lester was completely in the dark.
His trip to Europe prevented him from seeing three or four minor
notices in the newspapers of some of the efforts that were being made
to unite the various carriage and wagon manufactories. He returned to
Chicago to learn that Jefferson Midgely, Imogene's husband, was still
in full charge of the branch and living in Evanston, but because of
his quarrel with his family he was in no position to get the news
direct. Accident brought it fast enough, however, and that rather
irritatingly.
The individual who conveyed this information was none other than
Mr. Henry Bracebridge, of Cleveland, into whom he ran at the Union
Club one evening after he had been in the city a month.
"I hear you're out of the old company," Bracebridge remarked,
smiling blandly.
"Yes," said Lester, "I'm out."
"What are you up to now?"
"Oh, I have a deal of my own under consideration, I'm thinking
something of handling an independent concern."
"Surely you won't run counter to your brother? He has a pretty good
thing in that combination of his."
"Combination! I hadn't heard of it," said Lester. "I've just got
back from Europe."
"Well, you want to wake up, Lester," replied Bracebridge. "He's got
the biggest thing in your line. I thought you knew all about it. The
Lyman-Winthrop Company, the Myer-Brooks Company, the Woods
Company--in fact, five or six of the big companies are all in.
Your brother was elected president of the new concern. I dare say he
cleaned up a couple of millions out of the deal."
Lester stared. His glance hardened a little.
"Well, that's fine for Robert. I'm glad of it."
Bracebridge could see that he had given him a vital stab.
"Well, so long, old man," he exclaimed. "When you're in Cleveland
look us up. You know how fond my wife is of you."
"I know," replied Lester. "By-by."
He strolled away to the smoking-room, but the news took all the
zest out of his private venture. Where would he be with a shabby
little wagon company and his brother president of a carriage trust?
Good heavens! Robert could put him out of business in a year. Why, he
himself had dreamed of such a combination as this. Now his brother had
done it.
It is one thing to have youth, courage, and a fighting spirit to
meet the blows with which fortune often afflicts the talented. It is
quite another to see middle age coming on, your principal fortune
possibly gone, and avenue after avenue of opportunity being sealed to
you on various sides. Jennie's obvious social insufficiency, the
quality of newspaper reputation which had now become attached to her,
his father's opposition and death, the loss of his fortune, the loss
of his connection with the company, his brother's attitude, this
trust, all combined in a way to dishearten and discourage him. He
tried to keep a brave face--and he had succeeded thus far, he
thought, admirably, but this last blow appeared for the time being a
little too much. He went home, the same evening that he heard the
news, sorely disheartened. Jennie saw it. She realized it, as a matter
of fact, all during the evening that he was away. She felt blue and
despondent herself. When he came home she saw what it
was--something had happened to him. Her first impulse was to say,
"What is the matter, Lester?" but her next and sounder one was to
ignore it until he was ready to speak, if ever. She tried not to let
him see that she saw, coming as near as she might affectionately
without disturbing him.
"Vesta is so delighted with herself to-day," she volunteered by way
of diversion. "She got such nice marks in school."
"That's good," he replied solemnly.
"And she dances beautifully these days. She showed me some of her
new dances to-night. You haven't any idea how sweet she looks."
"I'm glad of it," he grumbled. "I always wanted her to be perfect
in that. It's time she was going into some good girls' school, I
think."
"And papa gets in such a rage. I have to laugh. She teases him
about it--the little imp. She offered to teach him to dance
to-night. If he didn't love her so he'd box her ears."
"I can see that," said Lester, smiling. "Him dancing! That's pretty
good!"
"She's not the least bit disturbed by his storming, either."
"Good for her," said Lester. He was very fond of Vesta, who was now
quite a girl.
So Jennie tripped on until his mood was modified a little, and then
some inkling of what had happened came out. It was when they were
retiring for the night. "Robert's formulated a pretty big thing in a
financial way since we've been away," he volunteered.
"What is it?" asked Jennie, all ears.
"Oh, he's gotten up a carriage trust. It's something which will
take in every manufactory of any importance in the country.
Bracebridge was telling me that Robert was made president, and that
they have nearly eight millions in capital."
"You don't say!" replied Jennie. "Well, then you won't want to do
much with your new company, will you?"
"No; there's nothing in that, just now," he said. "Later on I fancy
it may be all right. I'll wait and see how this thing comes out. You
never can tell what a trust like that will do."
Jennie was intensely sorry. She had never heard Lester complain
before. It was a new note. She wished sincerely that she might do
something to comfort him, but she knew that her efforts were useless.
"Oh, well," she said, "there are so many interesting things in this
world. If I were you I wouldn't be in a hurry to do anything, Lester.
You have so much time."
She didn't trust herself to say anything more, and he felt that it
was useless to worry. Why should he? After all, he had an ample income
that was absolutely secure for two years yet. He could have more if he
wanted it. Only his brother was moving so dazzlingly onward, while he
was standing still--perhaps "drifting" would be the better word.
It did seem a pity; worst of all, he was beginning to feel a little
uncertain of himself.