Boston a novel
in the Commonwealth, and men talked about it in the clubs for weeks.
The decision was announced a week before Christmas, and completely
spoiled that gracious season in the Thornwell, Winters, Alvin,
and Scatterbridge homes. Rupert took to his bed with a severe
“coryza”--since it would not do for a great banker to have a common
cold. He entertained his wife and visiting ladies of the family with
terrible pictures of the collapse of Boston banking, consequent upon
the custom of allowing decisions concerning millions of dollars to
rest in the hands of men who could not have financed a peanut-stand.
According to Rupert, all the bankers in Boston would immediately be
sued for all the money they had made in the last ten years--which was a
commentary on the city’s banking-system from a leading authority.
Rupert’s expensive lawyers would be put to work at once to appeal the
case; and even while he was scolding and pessimizing, and snuffling
and sneezing and snorting and blowing with the coryza, Rupert’s mental
dynamo was driving away at new plans. The details of the appeal would
be left to the lawyers, while Rupert would concentrate on the judges.
He had suggested the appointment of two or three members of the Supreme
Judicial Court, and hoped he could count upon them. He began figuring
over the others: their families and connections, social and financial.
Whose men were they, and what obligations were they under?
Presently Rupert would be sending for good gossips, such as Quincy
Thornwell, who could help him pick up information. If any of these
judges had close relatives who were lawyers, it might be a good
idea to retain these. If they had intimate friends who could talk
to them, methods must be worked out to approach these friends--in a
strictly high-minded and proper way, of course--pointing out to them
the dreadful state of uncertainty in which the financial affairs of
Massachusetts were left by this unprecedented jury decision. How could
big bandits stay in business, if, after they had held a pistol to the
victim’s head and got him to sign a document excusing them for the
robbery, the police should be allowed to step in and say that the
document didn’t count?
It would take more than two years for the Full Court of the Supreme
Judicial Court to weigh and decide this mighty issue; so Rupert had
plenty of time to continue his intrigue. He would not have to buy any
members of the higher court; he trusted that nobody had been appointed
who was not the sort of person to respect great bankers and appreciate
their difficulties as the invisible rulers of America. It was an
unwritten custom that as soon as a man was appointed to this court he
was also made a member of the very old and exclusive Union Club; so
Rupert and his associates would meet the justices at luncheon every day
when the court was in session; and while they would not be so crude as
to refer to the case, they could talk about business stability and the
sanctity of contracts; they could arrange for others to do the same,
the big and weighty men to whom the justices had had to come, to beg
for the favor of appointment. At the time when Rupert knew the Full
Court was giving its time to the case, he would bring it about that
great bankers from New York would happen to ride up in the elevator
with the justices and happen to remark in clear tones that all business
in New England was held up, waiting to find out if the courts were
going to permit credit to be undermined and contracts repudiated.
XV
Yet, with all this power in his hands, Rupert was nervous; he could
not help worrying, to the great damage of the calcified veins in his
ankles and legs. His brother-in-law tried in vain to keep him cheerful:
Henry Cabot Winters, who had worked out for himself a wonderful scheme,
whereby he was going to snap his fingers at all courts and their
decisions. Henry was going to make over his property to his sister, and
then go into bankruptcy!
Ordinarily this service is performed for business men by their wives;
but Henry was afraid of Alice. Not that she would keep his money--no
Thornwell would ever be a thief; but she might have a brainstorm, and
decide that it was for the good of his soul for the money to be turned
over to an occultist society. Just now the mad streak in the Thornwells
was manifesting itself in Alice’s determination to be a lady “chela.”
She was bringing bowls of rice and fresh straw for bedding to a real
“shri,” who was at one with Brahma, and must not be spoken to. Every
day Alice put on a snow-white robe and stood in front of a black screen
in a pitch-dark room, in order that her aura might be studied, and her
soul-troubles diagnosed thereby.
But Henry had a sister, Agatha Winters, who was pure “New England,”
unmarried and unchanging. He went to see her in the village where she
lived in the family homestead, devoting herself to church work. He
explained his troubles; wicked men had conspired to ruin him, and if
they succeeded, obviously he would no longer be able to contribute to
his sister’s support, and she would no longer be able to give her time
to the Lord. So Agatha knew that it was the Lord’s purpose for her to
aid Henry against his enemies. She had learned from the Old Testament
that the Lord aided His own against others, and that He was not too
scrupulous as to the means.
So Henry put five hundred thousand dollars’ worth of liberty bonds
into Agatha’s name, and had them sold and converted into a bank-draft
payable to her. She endorsed it, and Henry sold her some of his
property for it. He then bought more liberty bonds, and had them sold
in Agatha’s name, and put the money into another bank-draft, for which
Agatha bought another half-million dollars’ worth of his property.
This procedure was continued until Agatha was the registered legal
owner of every bond and share of stock and piece of real estate which
Henry owned, including everything which he had got from Jerry Walker;
including even the automobile he drove, the yacht on which he spent his
week-ends, the five-gaited snow-white Arabian stallion which he rode,
and the apartment-house in which he kept his mistress, a charming and
popular concert-singer.
So the great lawyer could go into court and swear that he did not own
a dollar in the world; and Agatha would be able to produce canceled
vouchers, showing the actual payment of cash to the full market
value of every piece of property she had acquired. Hidden away in a
safe-deposit box to which Henry alone had the key there was a will,
executed by Agatha in Henry’s favor; and a deed, selling back to Henry
for the sum of one dollar and other good and valuable considerations,
all the property which Henry had sold to Agatha. This latter document
was blank as to date; thus Henry had everything fixed so that, the day
the Supreme Judicial Court upheld the Jerry Walker verdict, he could
file a petition in bankruptcy, and wipe out his share of the claims
forever. After which, he would take back his property again, and laugh
in the face of his enemies!
XVI
The Thornwell generations came and went. Great-uncle Abner had a
paralytic stroke, which intercepted the nerves in his legs. No longer
did he ride about “Hillview” on a pony, but sat in a wheel-chair and
stormed and fussed when his attendants delayed to bring his meals.
He still had his deaf man’s voice, but could not hear a sound; you
wrote your ideas on a pad for him to read. You did not have to write
very much, because he was interested in his own ideas, and content if
you would sit and nod and smile. Every time he found anything in his
_Evening Transcript_ damaging to the reputation of a “Red,” he would
cut it out and mark it, and mail it to Cornelia with injurious comments.
To make up for the loss of Abner’s legs, Betty’s older sister,
Priscilla, brought four of them, eagerly kicking, into the world. The
first time it was a boy, and his name at once became Alvin Thornwell
Shaw, quite a load for two tiny red legs to kick under. Since his
father was a mighty mountain of copper, it pleased his Aunt Betty to
refer to him as the young copper hill; and when the second heir arrived
and proved to be a niece, Betty took to calling her the little branch
bank. Betty herself was not going to provide her mother and father with
any grandchildren--at least not for a while. Betty talked defiantly
about the wicked practice known as “birth control,” and said that this
was not a fit world into which to bring babies. What was the use of
raising boys for the military men to take away from you and kill? What
was the use of raising either boys or girls when their grandparents
would insist upon leaving them millions of dollars, thereby turning
them into parasites and deadheads?
Family propriety compelled the inviting of Cornelia to act as godparent
to both the copper hill and the branch bank; but each time she modestly
declined, not feeling equal to the responsibility of training either
Thornwells or Shaws. But she attended the baptisms, which were in
Trinity Church on a weekday afternoon, with many relatives and some
invited friends. The font had been made beautiful with flowers, and
there was a hymn sung by those present, and the precious infant slept
soundly, wearing the embroidered christening robe, two yards long,
which had been made for Great-great-great-grandfather Thornwell, the
sea-captain, and used at the baptisms of his infant descendants ever
since. When the splashing of cold water woke the victim up, it let out
a yell of indignation, which was a good sign, the old ladies said,
because it let the devil out; the old men chuckled, and commented--a
powerful voice, like Abner Thornwell’s and Josiah’s--it was the old
stock!
There were two godfathers and one godmother for the boy, and the second
time one godfather and two godmothers for the girl. Each time these
sponsors in baptism did promise and vow three things in the infant’s
name; of which the first was that it would “renounce the devil and all
his works, the vain pomp and glory of the world, with all the covetous
desires of the same.” Cornelia Thornwell looked about her: here was the
elder Shaw, grandfather of this infant, who sat tight upon a huge store
of treasure, and some twelve years ago, when his wage-slaves in the
Mesaba Range had dared to revolt, had sent in thugs and gunmen to slug
and murder them, exactly as if it had been at home in Massachusetts.
And here was Rupert Alvin, who had taken away ten million dollars from
Jerry Walker, and now was trying to undermine the highest court of his
Commonwealth in order to keep it. The covetous desires of the world!
And then the “vain pomp and glory.” Here were stately male personages
in striped trousers and cutaway coats, or braided black broadcloth, the
very stick-pins in their ties having ritual significance; here were
ladies, who had made a life-study of the art of demonstrating their
millions and tens of millions without appearing to do so. Here was a
temple built with hands, having single windows which had cost thousands
of dollars, and nothing within sight of it that was not luxurious.
Outside were shining limousines, and liveried chauffeurs waiting. At
the Alvin mansion there was a collation, and heads of finance and
fashion would eat cake and drink punch, and gossip about everything
that was expensive and therefore important. At the Shaw mansion they
were preparing a dinner-dance for next week, that would be the most
costly affair of the season; they would furnish the newspapers with
every detail of a great family advertisement, and eagerly read every
word next morning. The vain pomp and glory of the world!
And all this in the name of Comrade Jesus! A strange, strange prank
of time! Cornelia came out from the famous brownstone temple, erected