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Can't you see him arriving at that time nice and fresh and young and well dressed, as shrewd as a fox, and saying: 'Come to me. Let me handle city loan. Loan me the city's money at two per cent. or less. Can't you hear him suggesting this? Can't you see him? "George W. Stener was a poor man, comparatively a very poor man, when he first became city treasurer.
He was one of those men, of whom there are so many thousands in every large community, with no breadth of vision, no real subtlety, no craft, no great skill in anything. You would never hear a new idea emanating from Stener. He never had one in his life. On the other hand, he was not a bad fellow. He had a stodgy, dusty, commonplace look to him which was more a matter of mind than of body.
Both lawyers apologized as lawyers do on such occasions, but it really made but little difference. Their individual attitudes and moods continued about as before. "What did he say to you," asked Shannon of Stener, after one of these troublesome interruptions, "on that occasion, October 9th last, when he came to you and demanded the loan of an additional three hundred thousand dollars?
It will all blow over in a few days, and then we'll be better off than ever. Did you see Mollenhauer?" "Yes." "Well, what did he have to say?" "He said just what I thought he'd say. He won't let me do this. I can't, Frank, I tell you!" exclaimed Stener, jumping up. He was so nervous that he had had a hard time keeping his seat during this short, direct conversation. "I can't!
There was no need of any such effort, so far as Stener was concerned; whenever the time seemed ripe the politicians were quite ready to say to the Governor that he ought to let him go. It was only because Butler had opposed Cowperwood's release that they had hesitated.
It was in the face of this very altered situation that Cowperwood arrived at Stener's office late this Monday afternoon. Stener was quite alone, worried and distraught. He was anxious to see Cowperwood, and at the same time afraid.
"I can't, Frank," said Stener, finally, very weakly, his sense of his own financial future, overcome for the time being by the thought of Mollenhauer's hard, controlling face. "I'll have to think. I can't do it right now. Strobik just left me before I saw you, and " "Good God, George," exclaimed Cowperwood, scornfully, "don't talk about Strobik! What's he got to do with it? Think of yourself.
Cowperwood, as Mollenhauer and Simpson saw it, and as Butler would ordinarily have seen it, was well within his human, if not his strictly legal rights. They did not blame him half as much for trying to do what he had done as they blamed Stener for letting him do it.
There was more in this conversation to the same effect, and then Stener hurried as fast as his legs could carry him to Mollenhauer's office. He was so frightened that he could scarcely breathe, and he was quite ready to throw himself on his knees before the big German-American financier and leader. Oh, if Mr. Mollenhauer would only help him! If he could just get out of this without going to jail!
All this would have to come out at a trial, however. The whole thing, it seems to me, would depend on which of you two yourself or Stener the jury would be inclined to believe, and on how anxious this city crowd is to find a scapegoat for Stener. This coming election is the rub. If this panic had come at any other time " Cowperwood waved for silence. He knew all about that.
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