Woman Without Love?/Chapter 6
Chapter VI
The next year was one of the most momentous in Templeton Blaine's life. It was also a momentous year for many other people in the world at large. At Beaumont, Texas, an oil gusher had blown in with such terrific force it was several months before it could be got under control. Immediately a stampede started to the new El Dorado of liquid black gold that rivaled the gold rush of '49. Also the United States Steel Corporation was formed under the guidance of J. P. Morgan and capitalized for nearly a billion and a half. It eclipsed the Carnegie Steel Company formed the year before at Trenton, N. J., with an authorized capital of a hundred sixty million.
Events of world-wide importance occurred during that year, but its most important event insofar as it affected the affairs of Templeton Blaine was the Northern Pacific panic on the floor of the New York Stock Exchange.
Templeton Blaine always had his finger on the pulse of the railroads. He was sensitive to any change, any shifting of power. His intuition was uncanny. He watched the historical negotiations of Hill and Harriman with keen interest. He realized that this was to be a battle of the giants. He decided to stay on the sidelines.
"When giants battle," he reflected, "there is no place for dwarfs."
Night after night Templeton sat opposite his wife in the library of their hotel rooms and pondered over the problem. He was studying the market carefully. He was sure hell was about to break loose. Then abruptly it dawned upon him what Harriman would do. He had simply arrived at the denouement by putting himself in the fiery little railroad man's place. What would he do in such a predicament? There was only one logical thing. With a veritable war-whoop he jumped to his feet and rushed from the room, hatless and in his shirt sleeves. His wife showed no surprise. She was used to his eccentricities. At his abrupt exit, she merely looked up from her book and smiled. Then she went on with her reading.
Templeton rushed pell mell down to Broad Street. Not till he reached the steps of the Exchange did he realize that it was night. Actually he was on his way down to buy Northern Pacific. He had decided to put every cent he owned into that stock.
As he reached the Stock Exchange he stood in front of the grim closed doors and laughed heartily. His laugh echoed eerily through the deserted canyons of the money-grubbers. A policeman emerged from Exchange Place. He walked hurriedly over and grabbed Templeton by the shoulder.
"Are you drunk?" he asked peevishly.
"No," was the reply. "I never was more sober."
"Mad then?"
"Maybe. Perhaps you know me. I'm Templeton Blaine. If you don't believe me you can telephone my wife at Stevens House."
"Say you're not that guy that writes them railroad articles, are you?" asked the policeman, deeply interested.
"I'm guilty," said Templeton.
"Say, I made some money through you," confided the policeman. "Railroad stocks are pretty good. I want you to know me, I'm Tom Grogan. Been on the force for twelve years and all I've got is flat feet."
"Have you much money?'
"A few thousand dollars."
"Would you like to make more?"
"I certainly would."
"Do you believe in me?"
"Absolutely."
"Well then come up to my office over Hazeltine's Restaurant tomorrow morning, after you go off duty but don't tell anybody where you are bound. I have a hunch that I can make such a clean-up for you, you can retire with more money than if you'd been a police-commissioner."
"I'll be there with hells on," declared Tom Grogan emphatically.
"Leave the bells home," chuckled Templeton, "or we won't let you in."
When Templeton returned, his wife was still reading.
"Where under the sun have you been?" she asked.
"I've just been down to Broad Street," he explained sheepishly. "I've staged a tiny personal panic and almost got arrested as well. I've got the best hunch that a fellow ever had. We're going to be rich, honey, but first of all it will be necessary for me to pawn your jewels."
"Which is an excellent way to start," she said drolly.
"Oh, you needn't worry," he hastened to assure her. "I've got plenty of ready cash, more money than I ever had, but I want still more. I've got a hunch that is simply perfect."
"Has it anything to do with railroads?" she asked demurely.
"Yes," he said.
"Then I believe in you," she told him, "and you can have my jewelry willingly. If you ever go broke it will not be in railroad stocks. Your knowledge of them is simply uncanny."
"I've studied them," he said simply. "I know my subject. That is all."
"It's enough," said she.
Early the next morning, Templeton was at his office. He was fortunately a member of the Stock Exchange. He had paid the enormous sum of forty-one thousand dollars for the seat. Therefore his appearance on the floor caused no comment Tom Grogan had visited his office and had brought five thousand dollars in cash. Templeton had secured a personal loan of thirty thousand dollars on his Stock Exchange seat. The friend who had put up the money, a prominent Wall Street banker, had been sworn to secrecy. Then cautiously, in small blocks, Templeton commenced buying Northern Pacific railroad stock. He continued doing so the next day and the next. He strove to appear unconcerned but in reality he was more excited than he had ever been in his life. He couldn't eat. He scarcely slept. Helen grew worried. But his very enthusiasm carried him through. He was waiting for the war to break, the most terrific battle of the giants that Wall Street had ever known.
When the great battle of the financial giants did begin, Templeton Blaine was in his element. He never left the floor of the Exchange even to eat. Now he was no longer buying. He was a spectator, waiting the propitious moment to unload. He was as happy as a child at his first picnic. He remained all night at his office, not one night but several. Helen had to come to the office to meet him.
"I came down," she said, "because I was anxious to find out if I were still married."
"You are very much married," he declared, as he kissed her. Tm afraid you are married to death."
"Anyway," she said, "I suppose you can take me out to dinner."
"Certainly," he agreed, "we'll go to the Savarin. I'm really hungry tonight."
"That must be a new sensation."
"You are a dear," he told her, "I could eat you up."
"I believe," she mused, "you'd have more real enjoyment eating a railroad."
"Perhaps I would," he grinned, "if it had Harriman sauce."
Then came the mighty battle. Roughshod, the grim warriors, the Harrimans, the Hills, the Morgans, the Schiffs strode into the market, without thought for anybody, crushing little manipulators like beetles. What matter that afterward the two main figures were conscience-stricken?
Northern Pacific leaped up from $110 per share to over a thousand dollars and the street was in panic. Templeton Blaine sold out his holdings and when the battle closed he was many times a millionaire. He was no longer a dwarf. He had walked among giants. He had studied their stride. Until at last a transformation had taken place. He, too, was a giant.
Tom Grogan gave up his position on the police force. No longer did he have to worry over flat feet. He had cleaned up almost fifty thousand dollars. Templeton gave him a position in his office. He liked to have men about him who enjoyed talking about railroads.
That night Templeton and Helen celebrated after their fashion. They had dinner at the Waldorf after which they went to the theatre to see Floradora.
Two weeks later they moved away from Stevens House. Templeton purchased a magnificent four-story home on Upper Fifth Avenue, opposite Central Park. It was a bit far from Wall Street but a contract had been let for a new subway and when it was completed it would be easy to get home. In the meantime there were the new electric trolleys or else he could drive uptown in a hansom-cab. He was well able to afford the expense.
Helen was wondrously happy. It was a dream come true to at last have a home of her own.
"It is like going off on a second honeymoon," she said enthusiastically.
"According to my recollection," he drawled, "we never went away on our first."
"It would be wonderful if we could go to your home in Galvey for our second honeymoon," said Helen, wistfully. "Do you think we could—some day?"
"Some day," said Templeton, and kissed her. "My father and mother are getting old, dear, and my sister—" He did not say anything about his sister, Mary. He did not know anything about her.
There was no second honeymoon—then—as Helen had known there would not be. He plunged again into work, and it was not until two summers later—1893—that Helen was able to persuade her husband to take a much needed vacation.
"You might like it at the World's Fair in Chicago," she insisted. "Though I can't go with you."
In the end Templeton went to the World's Fair.