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It is his affair if he solicits advice, his affair if he follows it. Your father has no responsibility whatever in the matter of the Cascade Development and Securities Company. Besides, Scott tells me that what he did was against the advice of Mr. Tappan. "I remember last winter that he brought a Mr. Skelton to luncheon, and a horrid man named Klawber. "Poor Scott!
Stainer of Elting & Stainer, that dreadful creature Klawber, a very horrid man named Amos Flack and dear, grim, pig-headed Mr. Tappan old Remsen Tappan of all men! "He practically kicked out Mr. Flack and the creature Klawber, who had been trying to frighten Scott and me and even our lawyers. "And think, Duane!
And I, who hated him as a child, as a girl I am almost too ashamed to let him take command and untangle for us, with those knotted, steel-sinewed fingers of his, the wretched, tangled mess that has coiled around Scott and me. "Surely, this man Klawber is a very great villain; and it seems that Mr. Skelton and the wretched Flack creature are little less.
"Have you heard about Klawber?" asked Delancy. "They're calling the extra." Dysart looked out of the window. "That's fast work," he said. Grandcourt stood for a while in silence, then seated himself, saying: "He ought to have lived and tried to make good." "He couldn't." "He ought to have tried. What's the good of lying down that way?" "I don't know. I guess he was tired."
Innocent and guilty alike are going to suffer; I never in all my life consciously did a crooked thing in business; and yet I say to you now that these people are bent on my destruction; that they mean to force us to close the doors of the Algonquin; that they are planning the ruin of every corporation, every company, every bank, every enterprise with which I am connected, merely because they have decreed the financial death of Moebus and Klawber!"
Duane's lips were dry with fear; he swallowed, controlled the rising anger that began to twitch at his throat, and went on in a low, quiet voice: "Is this man Moebus connected with any of these transactions in which you and and my father are interested?" "Yes." "Is Klawber?" "Max Moebus, Emanuel Klawber, James Skelton, and Amos Flack are interested. Is that what you want to know?"
His father felt the effort his son was making; looked up wearily, strove to smile, to relight his cigar; which Duane did for him, saying: "As long as you are not mixed up in that Klawber, Skelton, Moebus crowd, I'm not inclined to worry. It seems, as of course you know, that Dysart's brokers failed to-day." "So I heard," said his father steadily. He straightened himself in his chair. "I am sorry.
Oh, yes, James Skelton and Emanuel Klawber with his thirty millions and his string of banks and trusts and mines; and that plunger, Max Moebus, and old Amos Flack Flack the hack stalking-horse of every bull-market, who laid down on his own brokers and has done everybody's dirty work ever since.
"That doesn't relieve his creditors." "No, but it relieves Klawber." Grandcourt said: "You always view things from that side, don't you?" "What side?" "That of personal convenience." "Yes. Why not?" "I don't know. Where is it landing you?" "I haven't gone into that very thoroughly."
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