"Standard Oil's" arguments always are absolutely flawless, and this was one of their best. I was fast becoming imbued with the wisdom of the plan which Mr. Rogers was revealing so adroitly, and began secretly to wonder if after all I was not a novice in such business.
Unerringly Mr. Rogers followed my thoughts. He piled Pelions of better things on Ossas of good ones. Surely it was after watching some parallel hoodwinking put through by a remote ancestor of "Standard Oil" that Puck enunciated his famous dictum, "What fools these mortals be." I fell in like the veriest tyro—hypnotized and happy.
"How much of this first section do you figure, Mr. Rogers, that we are to give to the public?" I inquired.
"We, Mr. Rockefeller and myself, have carefully considered this phase of it, and as we all want to retain as much as possible of the stock, we would not sell over $5,000,000 to the public."
"But can you do this?" I asked. "If the public know 'Standard Oil' is retaining nearly all the stock they will sour on it."
"Leave that to us," he said, knowingly. "We can iron this out so easily you need not give it another thought, for no one can have any possible rights in the matter until he has been allotted stock, and as all those who come in are to have big profits from the start, they will raise no objection to anything we do."
"All right, if you think it's wise. You know," I responded; "but who will be in this besides ourselves?"
"Every one of us—Stillman, Daly, Olcott, Flower, Morgan, all who can be of use to us will have to be let in onsome of the ground floors. The foundation profits, as we agreed under the old plan, will be twenty-five per cent. to you, seventy-five per cent. to us. After that we will jointly take care of those we let in. Is that all right?"
When Henry H. Rogers sets out to batter down an antagonist he is as fierce as an eagle foraging for her young; victorious, he is as amiable and generous as a salesman who has unloaded on a customer a big cargo of damaged goods. Anything the victim wants he can have by simply naming it.
Fascinated by his mastery of the subject and the obvious completeness of his plans, I could only continue to assent. He went on:
"There's another section of the subject we must get at now, Lawson, and decide on once and for all. You seem to have made no provisions for the most important end of the whole business, the selling end. What is your idea as to how we shall control the selling end?"
"I had given that little thought, Mr. Rogers," I replied. "I believe that easily takes care of itself. The demand is always greater than the supply. We shall have the metal to sell, the world will be more anxious to buy than we to sell: what more can be necessary?"
"Lawson," said the master brain of the greatest and most successful commercial enterprise in the world, "you know the stock-market, but you don't know the first principle of working to advantage a great business in which you absolutely control the production. The novice assumes that consumption when it is greater than production makes the price, but this is one of the many time-worn sophistries of business. Do you suppose Standard Oil has built itself up to where it is and made the money it has simply because there were always more lamps than we had oil? If you do, you are in dense ignorance of the foundation requisite for great success. As the world goes to-day, the prices of necessities and luxuries are fixed and should be fixed by the man who controls both the selling and the producing end, for there is a greater profit to be had by supply to regulated demand and demand to regulated supply than from a charge made and regulated by supply and demand. Standard Oil gets to-day and has always since its birth got its enormous profit from its 'regulation' department. Production yields it a proper profit and by supplying legitimate demands it earns other fair profits, but its big gains come from so adjusting one to the other that there can be no such thing as competition. Do you see?"
"I agree that is not my end, Mr. Rogers, though in a general way I know about railroad rebates, steamship comebacks, and such things; but I don't see how they are required in our copper business, where the demand is of such proportions that the producer sets the price and makes a profit away above what may be gained in other business enterprises. Surely no one would ask larger gains than are naturally made out of copper."
"Lawson," responded Mr. Rogers with oracular emphasis, "that is where your business education is flawed. No man has done his business properly who has missed a single dollar he could have secured in the doing of it. I do not think a fair judge would find me guilty of avarice, either in business or in the manner of my living, and yet I am made fairly miserable if I discover that, in any business I do, I have not extracted every dollar possible. It is one of the first principles Mr. Rockefeller taught me; it is one he has inculcated in every 'Standard Oil' man, until to-day it is a religion with us all."
There you have it—the fundamental precept of the gospel of greed. "What must ye do to be rich? Extract every dollar." How the formula explains "Standard Oil," and how completely it reveals the Rockefeller attitude of mind! Greed crystallized into a practice, dignified into a principle, consecrated into a religion and become a fanaticism. But, mind you, not the dross, but the rule; not profit, but precedent. Money no object, but our laws must be kept. Shylock's god is "Standard Oil's." The ravenous lust for gold that possesses these men is not an appetite, but a fever. In them it is the craving of the tiger for blood. Gorged and glutted with riches, their millions piled into the hundreds, masters of the revenues of empires, still they are as the daughters of the horse-leech.
Once in Ogreland there was a giant, larger and fiercer than any of his fellows, and it was the habit of this monster to compel the inhabitants of the territory which he ruled to render him every evening a tribute of human hearts. At sundown he would come out of his castle and seat himself in a great chair in front of the huge iron gate, and his vassals would lay at his feet the dripping sacks of hearts for which they had scoured the land. "How many have you brought me to-day, my merry men?" he would say as he weighed the sacks in his mighty fingers. "Are they large and juicy?" How they came or whence, he cared not at all; the screams of the unfortunates whose hearts were torn from their breasts he neither heard nor thought of; hearts he must have, and if people were killed, so much the worse for them. But the ogreateall the human hearts his vassals gathered for him; he lived on them and grew greater and lustier, for they were the food his great frame required for its sustenance, and he never had all he really wanted.
"Standard Oil" in our life to-day plays the rôle of this mythological giant, forcing its tribute of dollars from the people, indifferent to the blood and tears in which they are soaked, oblivious of the cries of the victims from whom they have been dragged; but, unlike the giant,"Standard Oil" does not need this tribute to sustain its life, nor to make richer its blood.
But to return to Mr. Rogers, who triumphantly proceeded with his plot:
"Let me show you, Lawson, how you have overlooked the best part of the copper business. We have found that for years Lewisohn Brothers have had a double-clamped and riveted contract with at least half the best producing mines in the country to sell their output, and they have grown very wealthy. As near as we can make it, they have made at least fifty millions in one way or another in the last ten or twelve years. First, they have had a big profit as their commission for selling; next, big interest out of the advances they make to companies while their output is being sold; now, they actually control the copper market of the world. Think of it, Lawson, for a few seconds, and the possibilities will loomup to you. You can buy or sell any number of millions of pounds in futures or actual deliveries. Suppose a man controlling the selling of three or four hundred million pounds a year should knock the price to, say, ten cents, sell to himself the year's output of all the mines he controls and then lift the price to, say, twenty cents. He would have a sure profit, with absolutely no risk, of thirty to forty millions of dollars. If he should sell the next year's output short at twenty and drop the price back to ten, he would have another thirty or forty millions. Wouldn't he? Then if, before he broke the price, he sold copper mining stocks short, and if, before advancing the price, he covered and loaded up with them, he could easily make an additional thirty or forty millions. Think it over, and you will agree with me that the possibilities are far beyond those of oil, and perhaps at the same time you can account for the violent fluctuations in copper stocks and the price of the metal during recent years. A man in such position could absolutelydictateto all new mines whose selling agency he could secure under long-term contracts. When their stocks were up, he could pinch them to the edge of bankruptcy by refusing to sell their metal or advance them the cash they needed for operation. Now, don't you agree with me that you overlooked one of the most important branches of the copper business when you made no provision for taking in the selling end?"
Again it crept into my mind that in comparison with the diabolic astuteness of this man, such knowledge and experience of business as I had gathered were as those of the primary student to the post-graduate scholar's. Again, there was no quarreling with his logic or his conclusions.
"It is common knowledge in Boston," I replied, "that copper commissions on the surface and below constitute as soft graft as any one would ask for, but no one suspected the possibilities you outline. Do you actually mean to say that that is the way the business has been conducted in the past?"
Mr. Rogers lowered his voice confidentially:
"I can only tell you, Lawson, that we have dug up some queer doings during our investigation, and I think I can put my finger on a great many millions of dollars now inthe hands of certain mine officers which could be recovered by the different companies they have been acting as trustees of. It would be quite an eye-opener to some of your pious Bostonians to know that the controlling officials of several mines are silent partners in some of the big selling agencies."
There was a pregnant interval of silence. Perhaps the expression of my face suggested the thronging thoughts which seethed through my head as I said:
"But surely, Mr. Rogers, that's off our beat. We shall make money enough along our lines without getting into that kind of a game."
Mr. Rogers swung his chair half round and looked straight at me. For a long second he stared—sitting half upright, his long, fine hands clasping the arms of the chair with a clutch like steel. He said not a word. Then he replied:
"Of course, Lawson, we have no need for such methods in our affairs. But it is a duty we owe investors and ourselves not to conduct this business in a way that will encourage others to continue doing it along the old lines."
He frowned at me as much as to say (only he never uses such expressions), "Oh, but you do make me tired," as he always did when I, with a serious face, would ask him, as I often did: "How is it, Mr. Rogers, that young John D. can make such a success of his Sunday-School-Class Trust, and at the same time of his father's oil and investment business?" In business hours Mr. Rogers taboos frivolity.
The neophyte in crime, being initiated into the mysteries of the profession by some able Fagin, gets his instruction by degrees. Great care is taken that he shall not realize too soon the depravity he is to practise, lest, appalled by the hideousness of it, he might jump the track, and along with each advance in knowledge goes a picture representing the ease of the life and the lordly rewards and pleasant adventures of the "industry." From the remote perspective of to-day very similar seems to have been the process in this most momentous conversation between Mr. Rogers and myself. The apprentice at the knees of the master was being gently and gradually admitted into the secrets of the calling—financial highwaymanry. At the moment, however, it never entered my thoughts to imagine myself other than a favorite lieutenant gathering the garnered wisdom of a great general of commerce.
So when Mr. Rogers shifted bobbins in his shuttle and agreeably and naturally wove fancy patterns into the woof of our conversation, I suspected no sinister motive. Indeed, in reply to his kindly queries, I was delighted to tell him how well I was getting along with Butte, Montana, and the other stocks that I had been dealing in, and how deeply interested all the country was in our plans. We must have been fully half an hour discussing the degree to which the craze for "Coppers" had spread over all America and had affected even Europe, and it was pleasant to realize his interest in my own personal well-being. Then, suddenly, as the thread on a bobbin runs out, he paused and shifted to the old subject—just as if a new phase of it had occurred to him.
"To come back, Lawson, to Lewisohn Brothers. We must buy that concern, and at once. Had you best do it or we?"
Our pleasant talk had restored my mind to its normal alertness, and I grasped at once the significance of the switch.
"I don't think I could begin to do as well as you on a trade of that kind, Mr. Rogers," I answered, off the reel, "for I don't suppose they will be anxious to sell, will they?"
"Anxious?" he replied, as quick as a chipmunk; "about as anxious as Apollo to have one of his front teeth pulled! But they will sell, and at my price, too. I think I know just where they stand, and when they know I know it, I don't believe they will be long in seeing it my way, for I shall show them what coming in with us means, and just what refusing my offer means, too!"
Click! His jaws came together.
"These are my plans," he continued. "They have all the money they want, and such a large European and American following that nothing could be accomplished by a financial squeeze, even if we resorted to that form of pressure; and they are very bright men. Leonard Lewisohn, head of the firm, is second to no man in America as a business man,which means he will not hanker for a fight with us; and when I show him we will buy, if necessary, the control of all the companies they represent, he will see the absolute futility of opposing us. I have it right from the inside of his own concern that Lewisohn Brothers have on hand a little over five millions cash and its equivalent, and that they consider the good-will and business of the firm worth ten to twelve millions more, which is fair enough, for their direct earnings must be a million and a quarter to a million and a half a year. Now here is what I propose offering them, and no more: We will incorporate the firm into a new selling company, which will have irrevocable contracts not only with our consolidated companies but with everything that we can influence, and the capital will be just the cash on hand, say five millions, we to take fifty-one per cent. of the stock and give them forty-nine. I will undertake to show them that their forty-nine will be more valuable under those conditions than the whole is now."
This is where I sat up amazed. "But, Mr.—," I gasped.
I remember reading somewhere that New York's infamous Boss Tweed, at the zenith of his extraordinary corrupt career, actually began negotiations with a syndicate composed of his friends to sell them the New York City Hall on a long-time note. When some curious heelers asked where the city fathers should conduct the affairs of the metropolis, he beamed on them in a paternal way as he explained: "Oh, a detail of the sale will be a hundred years' lease back to the city at a rental which will give us enough each five years to pay the purchase price."
Absurd, you say. Not so far-fetched as you may think, if you will remember the conditions under which the National City—the "Standard Oil" Bank—acquired New York's old Custom House on Wall Street. They bought it from the United States Government, credited the purchase price to Uncle Sam on their books, then rented it for a good round price to the Government, whose new Custom House was not ready for occupancy, and because it remained in Uncle Sam's possession, evaded municipal taxation on the investment. They got the property absolutely without paying a cent, andhave ever since collected a splendid interest on the million they did not invest.
But this deal which Mr. Rogers outlined to me seemed to go both of these transactions a point or two better, inasmuch as neither of the parties were corrupt city or government officials, but merely private citizens in a country where all are free and equal, and where the Constitution guarantees that no man's property shall be taken from him without due process of law.
Before I could get my breath, Mr. Rogers, as if he divined my thought, quietly said:
"One of the inducements I offer will be to allow them to reinvest the money we pay them in the new consolidated company's stock, at a good big advance over what it will cost us."
This was too much. I roared and roared, and even he had to laugh as he quietly remarked: "I said you would find we had done better for you than you could do for yourself, Lawson, for you must remember you are in on this at actual cost."
I stopped laughing. "How is that? I thought you intended the new copper company to have the fifty-one per cent. of the selling company?"
He looked at me with something akin to disgust. Then his voice changed, and he let me have it straight from the shoulder:
"Lawson, do you really intend that this whole copper business shall be a charitable affair? If you do, just count us out right here. We are willing to accede to a lot of your ideas, but there is a line we must refuse to cross even to please you. This fifty-one per cent. of the selling company is to be owned by all of our friends, and it is one of the things we must use as a sop to Daly, Stillman, Morgan, and the rest, to make them enthusiastic on our main scheme, and it will not come under our general arrangements of seventy-five and twenty-five per cent. It is one of the things I want you to leave entirely to Mr. Rockefeller and myself, and you can depend upon it we will do the right thing. All the stock is to be pooled in our hands for a long term of years, so youcan say to the public that its operations will be in favor of the consolidated company."
There you will note was the second explosive point in our conversation. I was too much concerned at the moment to take in all his words implied or to appreciate the fine dexterity with which a difficult situation was being handled. These decisive sentences were cracked off quick, sharp, emphatic, like the snapping of a bunch of firecrackers. I began a "But, Mr. Rogers," when he interrupted, and his words came stern, aggressive:
"Is it satisfactory to you or not? I am half beginning to think you are crowding this good thing we have in copper a bit too much. I simply ask now, Is this satisfactory to you? Do you leave it to us, or not? But whether you do or not, this particular part does not go to the public in any way."
He really showed a heap of irritation, and even now I think a little of it was genuine anger. It came over me that perhaps Iwasovercrowding it and treating the whole copper enterprise too much as if it were my personal property; for here was something I had had nothing to do with, the setting out, pruning, and gathering the fruit from, this particular plum-tree, and so I answered without any hesitation:
"It is you, I think, Mr. Rogers, who are a little unreasonable in not giving me a chance to tell you how I look at it. Yes, it is perfectly satisfactory. I will leave it entirely to you and Mr. Rockefeller. Whatever you do will be all right."
At once Mr. Rogers' expression changed. He looked relieved, making no attempt to disguise the fact that he had discharged a troublesome duty. "That is the way to look at it, Lawson," he said. "You'll not suffer, I promise you."
Meditating over the conversation afterward, I realized how delicate his task really had been, and how well he had performed it. It had been to settle this matter and to rearrange our copper plans that he had summoned me to New York, and if I had proved refractory I can see he would have been badly snagged in his negotiations with the Lewisohns. If there had been a trace of dissension in our camp,that firm would never have surrendered their great business on such terms as Rogers proposed to exact.
This is as good a place as elsewhere to tell exactly how fair and just Mr. Rogers proved himself in the cutting of this particular melon, and to explain why he had been at such pains to have me leave it entirely to his and Mr. Rockefeller's generosity. The fifty-one per cent. of the sales company amounted in hundred-dollar shares to 26,000 ($2,600,000). If I had insisted upon the arrangement then in force my share would have been 6,500 shares ($650,000), which to-day are worth a fabulous figure. For some time after this I heard nothing about the matter and was in complete ignorance of what my portion was until one day Mr. Rogers said in an offhand way: "By the way, Lawson, you can send me a check for your allotment of the selling company's stock, 250 shares." Before I got a chance to interpose a word he said: "We had to divide that up among a great many, or there would have been a good deal of hard feeling, but, after all, it's only a side-show and does not amount to anything when you consider our real plans."
At this moment, carefully chosen for that very reason, our affairs were swimming along so magnificently and my own profits were so great, that I had not the heart to make any serious objection. I let the matter go with an inward resolution that at the first convenient moment I would slip out of the selling company. Sure enough, shortly afterward Mr. Rogers said to me:
"Lawson, I do wish we could get in that selling company's stock from the different holders." He did not actually say he was buying it in for the Amalgamated Copper Company, but he desired that I infer it. I snapped him up:
"All right. You can have mine, Mr. Rogers," I said.
"At what price?" And I think he thought that he would be compelled to do some trading.
"Oh, about cost and interest," said I; and the thing was done. I afterward learned that he had treated every one in much the same way, and that he and Mr. William Rockefeller practically had it all. They have it to-day, just asthey and John D. Rockefeller, and possibly one or two others in "Standard Oil," have appropriated all the inner companies of "Standard Oil" where the real melons are cut—the secret rebates and all the other under-the-rose profits—while they are so industrious in their unloading of the stock of the main company, Standard Oil, that the last annual report showed that the list of outside stockholders numbers 4,100, this too at a time when 26 Broadway sits up nights to disseminate the impression that the Rockefellers and Rogers own it all.
To see and judge actions aright one must have them in perspective. As the Celt remarked, "You can get the best view of your life after you're dead." Looking back on the performances of this period, I myself am amazed at their monstrous audacity. Remote from common experience, their extravagance suggests unreality. Here were the master of the greatest business the world has ever known, and I, a mere captain of his forces, without even a by-your-leave, calmly carving up a big commercial enterprise, the property of other men who had spent the days of their lives in creating it; and these men whose institution was thus being ravished were not children, idiots, or aged dolts, but able merchants renowned the world over for their shrewdness and success. The one phase of the contemplated operation which occurred to neither of us as worth discussing was the possibility of not securing the property. This transaction demonstrates the despotism of the "System," the extent of its rapacity, and its arrogant disregard of all laws and rights, human or divine, in the enforcement of its exactions. And it was but one of a hundred similar transactions.
Before Mr. Rogers and myself parted, I had definite instructions: First, to begin to teach the public to look for new things in the first section; second, to overcome the objections of the holders of Butte & Boston and Boston & Montana, and other Boston stocks to being in the second section of the consolidation; third, to purchase the majority of the Parrott Company's stock; fourth, to see that the public kept away from Anaconda in the market for the time being.
While the minor details of these plans were being mappedout, I had let my mind run over the market situation of Anaconda stock, and had arrived at certain conclusions which I determined to test forthwith. So I said:
"Some one, Mr. Rogers, must have bought lots of Anaconda while you have been working this plan out—I mean lots outside of that which is going into the new company—and I should like to know if I'm in on any part of what may have been gathered in?"
His eyes focused me with a cold stare which told me even before he spoke that I had better have kept my suspicions to myself.
"I have heard of no one putting you in on any Anaconda," he said sarcastically. "You have not given any one any orders, have you, nor sent any one your check to pay for any, have you?"
I was nettled at his tone. "That is all I wanted to know," I answered. "Of course, Anaconda will have a still bigger rise, and if we have all we care to buy for the new company, no one will object to my telling the public what a good thing it is and putting them aboard now."
I was on perilous ground. He gave me an ugly glare which I knew meant real danger as he slowly said: "I think, Lawson, you have done all that is necessary for you to do for the public in letting them in on the things you already have, and for some time any one who interferes with the market on Anaconda stock, which I consider fairly belongs to Mr. Rockefeller and myself, will not find his investment a profitable one."
"Well and good, Mr. Rogers," I answered. "If you consider the market yours, I will not interfere, but I wanted to know just how it stood."
"You know now, and I shall expect you not only to keep out of it, but to see that it is handled in such a manner that all others stay out—all others except sellers," which meant that not only was no one to get any of the benefits on this stock, but that innocent holders were to be enticed into selling, that "Standard Oil" might buy before the real rise came.
As I write these sentences I marvel at my patience, andmy blood tingles with the thought of how, if the opportunity were again mine, I should reply to such an imperious mandate. If men said and did at the crucial moment all the wise, strong things that occur to them afterward, this would be a different world. The brave and scornful words I should have uttered I choked back, and, as countless others had done before me, I bowed my head and—submitted. Conscience and honesty slunk sadly into the background as I flaunted off on the arms of policy and discretion, pirouetting to the jingling music of golden shekels.
Great fortunes are seldom achieved without sacrifice of morals—or at least of pride—and ambition makes meaner cowards of us than conscience. Then and there I might have made a martyr of myself by threatening an exposure of the whole bad scheme and defying "Standard Oil" to do its worst; but martyrs seldom give themselves to the flames, and looking back dispassionately from the vantage-ground of the present, I doubt seriously if by denouncing the conspiracy I should have done more than discredit myself.
The interview ended, I returned to Boston and at once began the execution of the new plans, the remoulding of the public and the purchase of the Parrott mine.
Parrott was an active mine earning a large revenue and with something over 200,000 shares of capital stock. For the purpose of Mr. Rogers' plan its inclusion was essential, for it was well known and helped cover up the inflation in his consolidation.
Possession of 100,000 shares would give control, and the public would imagine when the announcement of its purchase was made that this meant ownership of most of the entire capital stock. Indeed, it afterward developed that this was one of the conditions Mr. Rogers and William Rockefeller relied on to deceive investors, for it was a natural assumption that nearly all of Anaconda and Parrott were included in the consolidation, and in estimating the value of the properties the public would multiply the market prices of their shares by the total capital stock and assume the result represented the assets of the amalgamation. For instance, the valuation of 1,200,000 shares of Anaconda at $70, and200,000 shares of Parrott at $68—the prices at the time Amalgamated was floated—would represent respectively $84,000,000 and $13,600,000; whereas the company owned only 602,000 shares of Anaconda and a few shares over 100,000 of Parrott, selling for in all about $48,600,000.
The control of Parrott was in the hands of certain wealthy Connecticut brass manufacturers, and, just previous to my receiving orders from Mr. Rogers to acquire the property, they were so anxious to sell this mine that they had given my brokers, Brown, Riley & Co., of Boston, an option on a majority of their shares at $10 per share, agreeing to pay a large commission should a good customer be secured. Before I could clinch at this figure they took advantage of the excitement in "Coppers" to bid up the stock, so that when I began operations Parrott was in the market at $15, and I offered $20 for the majority of the shares. An intimation of our purpose must have leaked, for other shrewd owners, also Connecticut men, bid the price up still higher until I was forced to raise my limit to $30 per share—quite an advance on $10. On that figure we all agreed and the papers were prepared, but at the last moment a young man "butted in"—I think he was the son-in-law of one of the owners, who turned up with an option, and declared he could get $40 per share for the property. We were trapped, for the alternative presented was to forego the purchase or pay the price demanded. There was a conference, at which I denounced the "hold-up" in strenuous terms; but the son-in-law proved equal to the emergency and stood by his guns, though some of the old gentlemen declared his exaction was unwarrantable. In the discussion there developed a queer fact—the son-in-law told us that the property was a good deal richer than any one thought: he had discovered that a certain section of rich ore in which there were several millions of dollars had been walled up by some designing person for his own purpose and the mine was easily worth $40 per share. I had heard stories of this kind before and frankly professed incredulity. The son-in-law agreed to reveal the ore to any one we might send to the mine, and so one of our most trusted engineers was despatched with himto Butte on the agreement that if he were convinced that the walled-up values were all that had been indicated, we should pay $40. If not, $30 would be the price. The twain started at once; our expert was convinced, and we paid four millions instead of one, two, or three. Strange to say, the subsequent operations of the mine have never revealed the walled-up values; instead, there has been developed a queer lot of litigation, the tendency of which suggests strange uses of that extra million. Anyway, the trade was made, and the gentleman of the Nutmeg State went home chuckling at the thought that though there was a "Standard Oil," there were others.
"Standard Oil" never forgets. Sometimes it may get left at the post, but always it catches up in the running—so as to be in the lead at the tape. When I reported the conclusion of this Parrott deal to Mr. Rogers, he said:
"Lawson, all's fair in a trade"; but I shall never forget the expression his face wore as he went on. "Just give me the name, Lawson, again, of that particular individual in this particular trade, that I may remember him hereafter." He spoke in a low, intense tone, and each word was separated from the preceding one by a dwelling stop. I gave him the name and the identification marks to go with it, and felt satisfied that even if the Nutmeg financier lived to be a thousand and Henry H. Rogers kept him company, there would surely come an evening-up which would be the worse for the erstwhile victor. Sure enough it came soon afterward, for the able Connecticut man, embarrassed at possessing so much uninvested money, came to us to ask advice about reinvesting it. The "Standard Oil" magnate was most sympathetic and generous, and pointed out the obvious advantages offered by the great new company Amalgamated, which would be out in a few days at $100 per share, and doubtless would sell soon afterward for $150 per share. The Nutmegite nibbled and then swallowed bait and hook whole, for when the subscription was announced his agents' names were found opposite a large block. Later on he applied to us for consolation and advice, for the stock he had bought at $100 and $124 was then selling at $33. We figured out for him that after all he had little to complain of;"for you see," we explained, "fair exchange is no robbery, and you have had just a fair exchange. You sold us your property inflated four times, and we sold it back to you under another name at about the same percentage."
Before the fireworks began, Anaconda sold in the market at $25 per share, and Parrott, as I have shown, at $10, and in addition to the enormous profits which Mr. Rogers and Mr. Rockefeller made in the Amalgamated Company proper, they cleared some $15,000,000 to $20,000,000 on their outside purchases of Anaconda, and some $25,000,000 to $30,000,000 more later by selling it short (as I shall show hereafter), at the tremendously high prices which were obtained by leading the public as well as myself to believe that they intended to purchase the entire stocks of both companies for the Amalgamated—that is, it was given out that the sections which were to come after were to have these minority holdings included in them. They sold Anaconda short in enormous quantities between $50 and $70, and Parrott between $50 and $68; afterward they bought them at $14 and $16 respectively, and no one knows how many millions these gentlemen are taking in now, for both stocks are again on the return trip, selling at the present writing at $32 and $30 respectively.
A few days later there came another summons from New York. Realizing that matters of importance were in the balance, I hurried over. Nothing could surpass the cordiality of Mr. Rogers' greeting as I entered his office.
"Lawson," he said, "we own Lewisohn Brothers."
"You certainly lost no time," I replied. "Is it actually fixed up already?"
"Yes," he said, settling back in his chair. "It was about as I outlined to you the other day. We had a very pleasant sit-down—Leonard Lewisohn and I—and I frankly told him what I wanted, explained our plans, and gave him twenty-four hours to think things over. Next day he was in and we went at it again. He began by talking $15,000,000, and it did come hard to bring it down to a little less than the actual cash and copper on hand; but when he saw I intended to have things my way or not at all, he meekly surrendered, and the United Metals Selling Company ($5,000,000 capital stock) is now a reality. And, Lawson, if I ever had to do with a better scheme I certainly cannot recall it."
"Did not Lewisohn put up any sort of a fight?" I persisted, surprised that so able and forceful a man should succumb so easily. "Didn't you have any words about the matter?"
"Not any but pleasant ones," replied Mr. Rogers, "although Lewisohn did, in an almost pathetic way, gasp when I emphasized that my only terms were $5,000,000, fifty-one per cent. to us and forty-nine per cent. to his people. He told me how he and his brothers had struggled up to success. They began in a small way as feather merchants, you may remember, and from one thing to another they progresseduntil the firm is known to-day as one of the greatest copper houses and the greatest coffee house in the world. He explained how he had brought up his three sons and his daughter's husband in the firm until they had become great merchants, too; and his ambition was that their sons and grandchildren should succeed to the institution, enlarging and strengthening it until the house of Lewisohn was as famous as the house of Rothschild—with which, by the way, he is closely connected. I tell you, Lawson, I felt a bit mean when, after he had told me how he had always kept his name's credit as good as any other man's bond, he asked me almost with tears in his eyes to let the name of the new company be Lewisohn Brothers. Indeed, he made a strong argument on the great value of the name to the copper business; but it did not take me long to show him the evils that grow out of letting men's personalities get into the public's mind. I battered down his objections by showing him the wisdom of Mr. Rockefeller's attitude in this connection. Always, from the first, he has taken the stand: 'The business first, the man second': with the result that there has never been jealousy or dissension in Standard Oil."
"Too bad," I interrupted.
"Yes," Mr. Rogers went on; "I wished I might have done this for him, for he is a splendid fellow; but it would not do, for after the newness wore off he, or more probably his sons, would surely imagine that they, and not we, were the real heads of the business."
As I have explained, Henry H. Rogers, when not working the handle or hopper end of the "System's" grinder, is a warm-hearted and generous man. And now, resting from his labors, he was the genial and kindly gentleman whom his social acquaintances admire so sincerely. I believe he felt almost as badly as I did over the sad picture he had drawn of the proud old merchant yielding up his children's birthright. I felt grieved to the depths of my soul at Leonard Lewisohn's predicament, for I knew, as did all men connected with Wall Street or Copper, what a stalwart he was. He had the heart of an ox and the pluck of a lion, and his white-man squareness and sense of justice belonged to otherperiods than that of frenzied finance. No man or woman in distress ever left his house or office without relief, and he gave as generously of his time and advice as of his money. Amid the jagged rocks and treacherous cross currents of Wall Street Leonard Lewisohn stood as a beacon lighting the way to better things, and men pointed at him and said, "There is still hope." Amalgamated may not have broken this man's heart as it did others, but I can imagine the bitterness and distress it caused him, whose proud boast it was that he had never gone back on his word. One of the promoters of the company, his name stood, in the minds of many investors, especially European, for a guarantee of fair play and square dealing. Yet the course of Amalgamated was one continuous going back on words. He had never allowed an associate of his to lose through his ventures, but in Amalgamated there was nothing but loss, and loss by trick and fraud. After the flotation, with its harvest of disgrace and scandal, Leonard Lewisohn became a changed man. His old-time happy smile was seldom seen, and it is said that before he died he summoned his sons to him and instructed them to destroy the notes and obligations of all his poor debtors and to return to them their collateral, of which there was a safe full. This man employed no press agent, and so his golden deeds were never reported in the papers, nor did he found a college to perpetuate his name; but he left a million of his estate to found a great home for the Jewish poor, for he loved and was proud of his race.
I have given you a portrait of this man; let me, by way of contrast, present another picture, which will help toward an appreciation of how the votaries of the "System" respond to generosity and chivalrous self-abnegation. Before Leonard Lewisohn died he organized a tremendous deal in coffee, and Rogers, Rockefeller, and all the other "Standard Oil" men were in. A fund of $5,000,000 was subscribed, to which all contributed in due proportion, and an immense amount of coffee was bought against a prospective scarcity. The condition Mr. Lewisohn anticipated did not immediately develop, and instead of rising, coffee dropped down and down until the $5,000,000 and more were all used up. Anotherman would have called on his associates for additional margin, or, at least, closed up the deal. Not so Leonard Lewisohn. Though some of the other members of the combination were many times richer than he, he shouldered the burden alone, saying: "It's my scheme, and I'll carry it if it breaks me, or until my judgment is proven sound." Still coffee declined until he had sunk $12,000,000, but never a whimper and not a word of complaint to his partners. Things were near the worst when he died, but he had instructed his heirs not to wind the deal up until every cent of his associates' liability was wiped out.
There came a time not long ago when Leonard Lewisohn's foresight was vindicated, and an advance in the price of the commodity relieved the "Standard Oil" coterie of their responsibility. The sons of the old man then desired to dispose of the great holdings of coffee, and so close the deal and secure the locked-up millions for the estate. They went to the various members of the syndicate and asked them to sign a release simply agreeing to relieve the estate of liability for presumptive profits growing out of further advances in coffee after they had sold out. It was a very ordinary legal precaution, and no great favor to the Lewisohns under the circumstances. The members of the syndicate signed the release in due course, until the document finally came to Henry H. Rogers, and this is the contrasting picture:
"Coffee is going up, I think," said the "Standard Oil" magnate, "and now that the Lewisohns have extricated themselves from a bad hole, they may as well carry the stuff until I get some profit out of it. Neither Mr. Rockefeller nor I will sign that document."
My readers may recall the wave of indignation which swept over this country when the news came of the kidnapping of Miss Stone, the American missionary, by the bandits of Bulgaria, and how hot we all felt at the capture of Ion Perdicaris by Raissuli, the Morocco rebel. Only in remote and barbarous countries, we reflected, could such outrages occur, and we dwelt with high inward satisfaction on our own splendid American institutions and law-abiding civilization. If only these miscreants were on American soil so American justice could lay hands on them—what stern punishment would be meted out to them! Yet, under the panoply of these noble institutions and just laws of ours, one citizen of our commonwealth was enabled to seize from another millions of money and the ownership of a great enterprise—literally wrench it from the hands of men who had spent their lives in developing it—and the execution of the deed involved neither financial nor physical risk and carried with it no legal nor social consequences. Look on the picture, all ye free Americans rejoicing in vaunted liberty and the right to the pursuit of happiness—this able and successful merchant, head of a great business which it has been his life-work to rear, surrendering the splendid structure at the mere nod of one man, whose "I want it" is more potent, more irresistible, than family pride or Government decree. If Leonard Lewisohn, a millionaire many times over, rich in connections with the strongest financial houses of Europe, meekly submitted to the behest of "Standard Oil," what resistance could the average man oppose to such a power? The logic of the situation is inevitable. Can you free Americans absorb the details of this most extraordinary performanceand not see the coming storm as clearly as the mariner does when all along the horizon creep the hosts of Boreas and the barometer drops like lead in a shot tower?
At last, in April, 1899, the first section of the much-heralded company was ready to step before the footlights to the plaudits of an awaiting financial world, and it was really a great moment when Mr. Rogers sent me word: "Come over, and be prepared to stay until the consolidation is formed and launched." I was at 26 Broadway next day, and we entered at once on our council of war. It was a momentous sitting and secret, for, until the entire programme was mapped out and decided upon, no one was a party to it or had knowledge of it but Mr. Rogers, his counsel, William Rockefeller, and myself. After we had finished the final details, Mr. Rogers said:
"This is a job on which we must not lose time, for if we give any one, even those who are to be directors, too long to think things over, there will be counterplots, and a cog may slip or jump and we shall all be crushed. We must all bear in mind that this thing has rolled up and up until it is unprecedented in business affairs, and if we slip up in any of the important details, we shall have a panic on our hands such as Wall Street has never witnessed."
On all sides for weeks there had been accumulating evidence, which we could see pointed to a monumental success or an avalanche failure. The copper market was literally boiling, and investors from one end of America to the other and throughout Europe were on thequi vivefor the anticipated announcement. At intervals in history great "booms" are started, which bloom into iridescent bubbles, and for a moment dazzle the world with fairy dreams of sudden millions. Greatest of all these was the South Sea Bubble. Since then we have had the tulip craze in Holland, the Hooley excitement, and the Barney Barnato South African mining furor in England, the Secretan copper corner, and the tremendous bonanza delirium in California; but none of these, save the first, is comparable with the magnitude of the copper maelstrom of 1899. The tulip craze could have been thrust in and withdrawn again without divertingone of its currents; the Barney Barnato affair was little more than an eddy on the surface of English finance in contrast. We were dealing in hundreds and five hundreds of millions; shares rose and fell twenty to fifty points in a day; some had mounted to the giddy height of $900 each; thousands of the public had invested their savings in one copper property or another, and all awaited with bated breath and marvelling anticipations the launching of this copper monster with its freight of hopes and visions.
The programme as specifically arranged had several important clauses. The first involved the notification of James Stillman, President of the National City, the "Standard Oil" Bank, who was to be let into only as much of the secret as was necessary to enable him to handle his important end intelligently. To Leonard Lewisohn it was decided to intrust the French, English, and German end of the subscription, and he was at once to receive orders to lay his pipes. I may say here that this task was admirably executed through his son-in-law, Philip Henry, of the English branch of Lewisohn Brothers. The other directors of the company were then and there selected, but it was agreed that they should not be told of the distinction thrust upon them until the very eve of the company's formation.
This decision surprised me at the moment it was concluded, for with my Boston ideas I had regarded the gentlemen we had chosen to preside over the destinies of our great company—all men of the highest prestige and standing in American finance—as so powerful and so independent in their own fields as to be beyond either the coercion or the cajolery of "Standard Oil." It was because of this reputation for integrity and the confidence their names would inspire in the public mind that we had selected them; yet here was Mr. Rogers irreverently using them as the veriest pawns in his game, and taking absolutely for granted their immediate consent to the loan of their reputations and honor for any scheme he might put up. The possibility of one of these eminent financiers objecting to be used in any way "Standard Oil" might desire was a contingency evidently so remote as to be unworthy of consideration.
The legal aspects of the problem were considered, but as we felt sure of our ground it was agreed to avoid all delays in this direction. As a matter of form and habit, however, Mr. Rogers said that at the last moment, when the papers were ready to issue, he would have the wise lawyers in charge of the legal department of 26 Broadway run over them, but whether they approved or not, he would allow no technicalities to hold up the flotation. This was certainly a departure from the well-ordered rule of "Standard Oil," but the urgency of the situation seemed to require it.
After our council adjourned, not a moment was lost. The organization was quickly shaped up and got ready, and the time was ripe to broach to Mr. Stillman the part that he and the funds deposited in the National City Bank were to play in the forthcoming engagement. This was a crucial point, and I saw that Mr. Rogers approached the task with no gusto. Before he went off that night he spoke about the interview which was to occur after dinner, and he said:
"I don't mind giving Fewer or Olcott or even Morgan but a minute's notice, for every one of them will do about what I ask him to, but I shall feel better when I get through with Stillman."
"But Mr. Stillman would never dare to refuse what you and Mr. William Rockefeller asked, any more than he would the request of John D., would he?" I asked.
"I don't know about that," Mr. Rogers replied. "Stillman has been growing fast of late, and it is not nearly so easy to get him to consent to run deals blindly as it was formerly. Of course, if he were in on the bottom floor with us, it would be different. All I fear is, he may ask questions, and if he does, it will not do for me to refuse an answer. And too many answers may be dangerous to our plans."
"Why not take him in with us—you, Mr. Rockefeller, and myself?" I suggested. "The profits will stand it, and as far as my share goes I am willing."
"Not by a jugful, Lawson," said Mr. Rogers emphatically. "Stillman will only get what fairly belongs to him.He has had none of the risk or work, and we do not need him in any way except through the bank, and the bank is 'Standard Oil's,' not his. He is lucky to get what I am going to give him."
It is interesting to note in passing the authoritative manner in which 26 Broadway speaks of the so-called institutions of the people that it controls—the banks, trust companies, and insurance companies, having deposits of hundreds of millions of the public's money. Familiarly they are alluded to as "ourbank" or "ourinsurance company," as the case may be. We are all apt to feel we own the things we use, and that Mr. Rogers should speak of the millions of the National City Bank as "our funds" is not surprising when he possesses the power and the privileges of doing with them as he pleases. I was too fascinated at that time by the ready magic of "Standard Oil" to observe all the anomalous conditions my relation with it revealed. Such things all seemed a natural attribute of the despotic and all-powerful institution that I served.
I was vastly relieved when Mr. Rogers reported, the following morning, that at the dinner with Stillman everything had slipped through very smoothly. Not only would the National City Bank take charge of the subscription, but through the institution Mr. Stillman would furnish the millions necessary to form the company. This meant supplying the paraphernalia in loans, checks, and cash necessary to pay in the seventy-five millions capital, thirty-nine millions of which must at once be "book-keepingly" available to pay for the property bought from Daly, Haggin, and Tevis, and purchased by the company.
"It couldn't have gone through easier, Lawson," Mr. Rogers said quietly, "for the fact is, Stillman seems to have got the copper fever as badly as any one else and is as anxious to take a hand as we are to have him. It will be plain sailing now unless we strike some snag with Sterling or Elliott"—referring to the principal "Standard Oil" lawyers.
By this time such substantial progress had been made with the plans that they were formulated on paper and the time had come when it seemed advisable to try them on the"Standard Oil" law-department. We arranged that night that next morning Mr. Rogers should himself go over the matter with Mr. Sterling. I was waiting in his office when he returned from this consultation, and the expression of his face as he entered indicated plainly that a real snag had been struck. His jaw and the droop of the upper corners of his eyelids gave a curiously sinister aspect to his face.
"Well," said he, "Sterling says if we carry out that plan there may be h—l to pay some day."
"Wherein does he say it is wrong?" I asked, not over-surprised.
"Everywhere. He says if there is any slip-up in the future Mr. Rockefeller and myself may have to pay back a lot of money."
"Well, what are you going to do?" I said.
"Just what we started to do." No lawyer's warnings could hold him back from the bursting barrels now in sight. He went on:
"I told Sterling to forget I had asked him to pass on the matter, and that I would have my own counsel take the responsibility. So we go right ahead, and nothing is to be said to any one, not even to William Rockefeller. I have always argued that it is fool business to go to a lawyer with a scheme that depends entirely on how it is carried through as to whether it is perilous or not. I could have told Sterling there is apt to be more danger in a deal in which one makes thirty-five to forty million dollars without turning a hair, than in furnishing staid advice from an office-chair for a fixed sum per diem."
The concentrated incisiveness of these sentences! Opposition, the mere suggestion of danger, had stimulated his determination to proceed rather than enjoined caution. Himself convinced of the expediency of our deal, no power on earth could make him deviate or face about. Truly a man of blood and iron, as Bismarck or Moltke was, his erected will is a sword and a vise. To gain a predetermined goal Henry H. Rogers will go through hell, fire, and water, swing about and make the return trip, and then repeat, until death interferes or his object is attained. Such menas he in other days subjugated kingdoms or made deserts where they operated; in religion they became St. Pauls or Savonarolas.
It may occur to my readers that in depicting Henry H. Rogers I use more whitewash than tar, and that if he is half as determined and relentless as my characterization of him, he will surely exact a terrible reprisal for what I have written here. In describing the man I adhere to the facts, and before I began this crusade I weighed well the consequences. From the implacable wrath of Henry H. Rogers and his associates, from a thirst for vengeance which grows more bitter as it is deferred, nothing can save me, nothing but—myself.
And now events flew. Mr. Rogers took the forenoon to notify Governor Flower, President Frederic P. Olcott, of the Central Trust Company; Marcus Daly, and J. P. Morgan, that they, in connection with William Rockefeller, himself, his counsel, and James Stillman, were to constitute the directors of the new company.
"There, Lawson," he said, when he returned to 26 Broadway, "that job is done, and I am glad it's off my hands. It was all pleasant enough but the Morgan part. I wish it were possible for us to get along without having his assistance, but it isn't. Leaving him out would create comment, from which it would be only a short step to Wall Street's nosing around and manufacturing something uncomfortable, even if they didn't discover it. I don't like Morgan a bit, and he likes us less. It won't be long before one or the other of us will be able to do business without knowing what the other's about, much less consulting him—not very long."
As the "not very long" shot out from between his lips much as the tail-end of an up-chimney wind switches itself around the angle of the fireplace, I felt there was little doubt in his mind who would be left to do business after the final drag-out and clean-up. At the same time it did not dissipate a sort of come-and-go confidence I had that the old terrapin around whom so many of Wall Street's eddies have swirled would cause the 26-Broadway crowd many a broken knife-blade before crawling or being pushed into his shell.Turtles are not much good as sprinters, but they're blue-ribbon winners when it comes to the staying class.
"You didn't meet with any set-back with Morgan, did you?" I asked.
"Oh, no," Mr. Rogers replied; "he simply said it would be best, everything considered, for us to put in his right-hand man, Robert Bacon, instead of himself, and I agreed with him; in fact, I think it much better, as Bacon is a rattling good fellow who takes no interest in the other fellow's business, even when he does happen to be a director in the other fellow's company, and he will recognize that this copper affair is mine, not Morgan's." He stopped abruptly. "Now, Lawson, let us settle upon what in this case is an important point, the name of the company." He had asked me the day before to think of a suitable title for our organization, and I had put in some time with a pad and pencil experimenting. I had several names ready for him, but after I had run over them and given my reasons, he said:
"There is nothing more important than to have just the right name for a company which is going to make history, is there?"
I agreed; in fact, even more than he I was impressed with the desirability of a suitable name for a corporation whose stock was bound to become a great market star, and I was not satisfied with any I had dug up. Give a stock or a book a good name, and it is sure to be numbered among the best sellers.
Mr. Rogers continued:
"Lawson, we want something as good as 'Standard Oil,' if it is possible to find it. Now"—and he drew over one of his little writing-pads and taking a slim gold pencil from his pocket slowly wrote something and handed it to me—"how do you like this?"
I read "'Amalgamated Copper Company.' Perfect!" I exclaimed.
"I thought you would say so"; and he reached over and wrote underneath the name, "A second Standard Oil." It was an impressive moment for both of us. I folded the slip, and putting it in my pocket said: "You will see this again,Mr. Rogers, when its stock sells for as much as Standard Oil."
Surely an adder crawled from that tiny golden cylinder and upon the smooth white paper distilled its subtle venom. I, poor fool, exulting in the splendid throes of accomplishment, never dreamed that the real christening of my bantling was the toast the Master of Hell drank as the name "Amalgamated" was slowly traced upon the pad before my eyes; never dreamed that this cherished offspring on whose rearing I had lavished all I possessed of dollars, of ideals, of generous hopes and high expectations—whose growth I had literally watered with my sweat—was an imp of darkness. My fool's paradise I had planted with all manner of fair flowers and lordly trees, and in my folly believed that those who had been my friends were forever after assured of pleasant places, lovely perfumes, and grateful shade; but like the Grecian in the ancient fable, I found I had sown dragon's teeth, and the crop I reaped was of hatred and envy, passion and revenge.
On the day before Amalgamated's incorporation, Mr. Rogers and I conferred long and earnestly upon the plan of campaign for the company's organization. It was very necessary to avoid all errors, and to have everything cut and dried in advance. We were obliged to railroad things through, once started, a hitch or a side-track might be fatal, and I desired to have Mr. Rogers pass upon the programme I had drawn up. Therein was set down the work of each captain, lieutenant, and water-carrier who was to take part, and we discussed every detail to a finish. When he had approved everything up to the point where formation ended and the flotation began, I said:
"Now comes the most important part of all—the offer to the public; for a slip-up, the misuse of a single phrase, or even of a word, at this point might destroy our whole structure."
"Quite true, Lawson," he answered, "but I have no fear of you there. Let me have your idea."
"First," I replied, "there should be an advertisement of the National City Bank, and one of the Amalgamated Company, and in this advertisement the story of the good things we have collected must be told in strong terms."
I am now about to explain exactly of what the First Crime of Amalgamated consisted, and it behooves my readers to weigh carefully the details, for I make the claim here that without further proof they will be able to realize not only my own position and purpose at this, the crucial, stage of the Amalgamated enterprise, but to grasp the cold-blooded villany of the men I am exposing.
At this time I was in a most uncomfortable and uncertainposition. Each day that I did business with Mr. Rogers and his associates increased my knowledge of their heartless brutality in dollar-making. I knew I was on dangerous ground; but to retreat meant not only my own destruction but terrible losses to my friends who had followed me and to the public which had come in on my advice. So I had made up my mind to go on but to keep my eyelids pinned back, my tongue anchored, and what gray matter I possessed oscillating. Remember, I was in no way sure that Mr. Rogers intended to misuse the public, but I suspected that his coat-sleeves contained more things than his shirt-cuffs, and that he was playing a game other than the one he let me see. Up to now Mr. Rogers and William Rockefeller had kept me between the people and their legal responsibility by having all public statements made over my signature. I had half-way concluded that this was done to avoid future accounting, but there might be other reasons. I determined when it came to the flotation, which would be the first time they took openly the public's money, to connect them publicly with my statements. It is next to impossible for any man to sit in front of Henry H. Rogers and give one reason for his actions and have another about his person; but this was a desperate situation and I resolved at any cost to carry my point. How difficult a task I had undertaken I did not realize until I was well into it. When I had stated the form I thought Amalgamated's first announcement should have, Mr. Rogers paused. He repeated:
"The City Bank—that's a question. Now, how do you propose to go about that advertisement?"
"Simply this way," I replied. "I will draw up a memorandum of the main strong points about the Amalgamated Company, and you will ask Mr. Stillman to have some of his people write them into a good, clear statement. This we will publish as an advertisement over the bank's signature, and have the Amalgamated Company indorse it, showing that it is joined with the bank in responsibility for the truth of the announcement."
Mr. Rogers said nothing, but continued to gaze inquiringly at me. I went on:
"Or, the Amalgamated Company can be the principal and the bank the indorser."
"Just what is the bank to say in this statement?" he asked very seriously.
"The big things about our enterprise that I have been telling the public. We will put them forward in an old-fashioned, unequivocal way—that should accomplish what we want," I replied.
He was looking at me in a curiously searching manner as I spoke. He said:
"Let us have the strongest one or two as an illustration."
"Well, for instance, what I have advertised so often, that this stock is so good the 'Standard Oil' people who formerly owned the property behind it would prefer to own all the stock and hold it as a permanent investment, but that the enterprise is so large their interests will be better served by letting the public in than going it alone. You and I know that's true. Also that the company is earning sixteen per cent. and will always pay eight per cent. or over. Something to that effect."
"Do you suppose, Lawson," said Mr. Rogers, straightening up and speaking very impatiently, "that the public will swallow any statement of that kind? Just think it over—William Rockefeller, James Stillman, and myself, to say nothing of others, openly spending our money for advertisements to induce Tom, Dick, and Harry to buy stock at par which we know is earning sixteen per cent. and will always pay eight!"
"Why not?" I responded. "I have practically stated the same thing scores of times as your agent, until, so far as the public is concerned, my telling it is the same as though 'Standard Oil' had said it."
"Well and good," Mr. Rogers went on dryly. "But, Lawson, you know there's a heap of real difference between your telling it and our putting it over our signature."
I well knew the difference, but I had my point to make; so I said:
"All right. Let the City Bank and Mr. Stillman put it their own way."
"Lawson, that's foolish," Mr. Rogers returned. "They must not be allowed to have anything to do with it save to O. K. what we are to advertise over their signature. Stillman would never agree to our using the City Bank to hawk any stock but a gilt-edged one."
"Isn't this a gilt-edged one?"
Mr. Rogers glared at me.
"Why waste time and words over a matter that you know as well as I must be handled very, very gingerly? It is not because it is not gilt-edged, but because of the peculiar situation of it. The public thinks this stock which is to be offered to it belongs to the Amalgamated Company, and that the City Bank is selling it for the Amalgamated treasury just as in any of the ordinary first-class issues they offer for subscription; whereas we know that the stock belongs to us and the bank is selling it for our profit. If the public suspected that this stock was ours, and that we were not going to subscribe on the same basis as themselves, it would demand to know what we paid for it, and if we didn't tell, it would be figured out as a clear case of false representation. Where would that leave us? Mr. Rockefeller, myself, the bank, and Stillman would be held for every cent of the capital forever. We cannot put our heads into any such halter."
"I cannot see why not," I expostulated. "You and I know there is no more chance of loss than if we were dealing in the City Bank's own stock, because of the way we are handling the deal, selling only $5,000,000 to the public, and standing behind every dollar of that, all possible risk is eliminated."
"Call all that true," angrily replied Mr. Rogers, "and you don't alter the fact that such a scheme as you map outis impossible. You must get to work and figure out some plan which is practical."
"I knew that we should find this a difficult matter to get right," I said. "Now, what is your idea of how it should be gone about?"
This time the burden of explanation was fairly upon Mr. Rogers, and I waited his answer expectantly. He replied, in much milder tones:
"There is no real difference between us, Lawson, except that you don't seem to realize the actual position we are in. We are going to do what is fair and right in this enterprise—indeed, there is no necessity for anything else—but we must not put the bank or ourselves in such a place that either or both of us can be held legally responsible for anything that happens in connection with this company. You must keep in mind Sterling's words, that the thing is risky enough anyway, and that even under the best circumstances and conditions we may find ourselves in a hole. Exactly how to do it I have not figured out, but the City Bank must appear as offering the subscriptions, and the Amalgamated Company as owning the stock, and simultaneously some one else must tell all about the advantages. Unless this latter is very fully done, the public will not only refuse to subscribe, but will get suspicious, and there might be a big scandal. It seems to me as though this part of the job is yours to do, and to do just right."
So far in our argument we were even. We eyed each other as fighters do in a ring—looking for an opening. Both sparred for an idea. Mr. Rogers' reluctance to shoulder any legal responsibility deepened my suspicions, and inwardly I sweated blood at the thought of the deviltry that might be piled up around the affair. However, there was nothing for it but to square away and keep sparring, for if I lost my temper and exploded, it meant that I should be ground up or disappear in the hopper, and then, good-by to independence. It was the first time I had ever sat in a finish game with the master of "Standard Oil," and I trembled at the possible outcome. Yet this duel—for it was as clearly a fight for life on my side as though we both were armed with deadly weapons—was but one of a thousand similar encounters the Rogerses and Rockefellers had had with other adversaries as fearless and as honest as I, and out of these heart-breaking and soul-crushing sit-downs they had always emerged survivors, while behind the "Standard Oil" juggernaut, defeated and submissive, trudged the men who had dared oppose them. Should the fate of these others be also mine? Across my mind flitted "not while my brain retainsits fly-wheels and my hands their power"; and I found myself wondering if there were not some stage at which a man cornered by arbitrary conditions and legal observances was justified in bursting all such trammels and meeting artifice with physical violence. Murder is a crime against society and against nature, and we must all observe the canons of God and the regulations of the law; but at least a dozen times in my wrestles with the exasperating, grinding, hell-generating machine, it was only my inborn reverence for God's law and man's that prevented me from—well, shall I say, strangling the fox?