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Updated: June 27, 2025
But another event, much more dramatic and far-reaching in its effects upon his life, was already ripe for the enacting. Business conditions had necessitated unwonted economy in the office affairs of Conward & Elden, as a result of which many old employees had been laid off, and others had been replaced by cheaper and less experienced labour.
"Conward," she said. Dave's blood went to his head. "The scoundrel!" he cried. "The low down dog! There's more in this than appears on the surface." "Sure there is," she said. "There's another woman. There always is." Elden walked to his desk. From a drawer he took a revolver; toyed with it a moment in his hands; broke it open, crammed it full of cartridges and thrust it in his pocket.
Bert Morrison had been caught in his snare, and now this other and dearer friend had proved a ready victim. As Conward was wont to say, business is business. And he had acquiesced. His position was extremely difficult. "I don't think I would be in a hurry to buy," he said, slowly turning his eyes on his partner. "You would perhaps be wiser to rent a home for awhile. Rents are becoming easier."
That Elden should speak of Conward with such disdain seemed to her little less than sacrilege. Then, gathering herself together with some dignity, "If you cannot speak respectfully of Mr. Conward you will please leave the house. I shall not forbid you to see Irene; I know that would be useless. But please do not trouble me with your presence." When Dave had gone Mrs.
The girls threw off their wraps and sauntered about the place, commenting freely on the furnishings and decorations, while Conward started a gas grate and put some water to boil. "Sorry I've nothing for you to eat," he said, "but I've some good medicine for the thirst." "Eating's poor business when there's a thirst to be quenched," said one of the girls, with a yawn.
They had a story this morning that the railway is buying a right-of-way up the river." "Remember what I told you the other day? Stories start from nowhere. It's just like putting a match to tinder. Now we're off." Conward smoked a few minutes in silence, but Dave could not fail to see the excitement under his calm exterior. He had, as he said, decided to "sit in" in the biggest game ever played.
He stood with his shoulder toward Conward, watching the dusk settling about the foothill city. The streets led away into the gathering darkness, and the square brick blocks stood in blue silhouette against a champagne sky. He became conscious of a strange yearning for this young metropolis; a sort of parental brooding over a boisterous, lovable, wayward youth.
That section was now considered close-in property, and lots which Conward & Elden had originally sold for two hundred dollars each had since changed hands at more than a thousand. The street railway ran far beyond it. Water mains, sewers, electric lights, graded streets and concrete sidewalks had sprawled for miles across the prairie.
And you're sound and honourable and people trust you." "Thanks," said Dave, dryly. "That's right," Conward continued. "We'll be a combination hard to beat. You know the story about the brothers in the coal business?" "No." "Jim and Fred were coal dealers, when a revival broke out in their town, and Jim got religion.
"And there's no other way, Dave," said Conward, rising and placing an arm on his partner's shoulder, "I sympathize with your point of view, but, my boy, it's pure sentiment, and sentiment has no place in business. And you remember the terms of our partnership, don't you?"
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