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Updated: June 28, 2025
Only I wouldn't say that it has been taken as yet. It's in danger of being lost." "Five hundred thousand!" exclaimed Mollenhauer in amazement, and yet preserving his usual calm. "You don't tell me! How long has this been going on? What has he been doing with the money?"
His defalcation would be sure to come to the ears of this body and a public investigation might well follow. Various private individuals knew of it already. His creditors, for instance, who were now examining his books. This matter of seeing Mollenhauer or Simpson, or both, was important, anyhow, he thought; but before doing so he decided to talk it all over with Harper Steger.
Mollenhauer cast him an ingratiating smile, and as he stepped out Senator Simpson walked in. A more interesting type of his kind than Senator Mark Simpson never flourished in the State of Pennsylvania, which has been productive of interesting types. Contrasted with either of the two men who now greeted him warmly and shook his hand, he was physically unimpressive.
Owen himself was interested in Caroline Mollenhauer, whom he hoped some day to marry as much for her prospective wealth as for any other reason, though he was quite fond of her. In the January following Butler's death, which occurred in August, Norah was married very quietly, and the following spring Callum embarked on a similar venture.
Besides, I want to talk to Mollenhauer first, anyhow." "Good God, how you talk!" exploded Cowperwood, angrily, looking at him with ill-concealed contempt. "Go ahead! See Mollenhauer! Let him tell you how to cut your own throat for his benefit.
Desmas was a large man physically Irish by birth, a politician by training who had been one thing and another in Philadelphia from a policeman in his early days and a corporal in the Civil War to a ward captain under Mollenhauer.
There were whiskies, wines, cigars on the table, and while Mollenhauer and Simpson exchanged the commonplaces of the day awaiting the arrival of Butler, they lighted cigars and kept their inmost thoughts to themselves. It so happened that upon the previous afternoon Butler had learned from Mr. David Pettie, the district attorney, of the sixty-thousand-dollar-check transaction.
"Nothing to-night, Henry," replied Simpson. "I haven't long to stay. I just stopped by on my way home. My wife's over here at the Cavanaghs', and I have to stop by to fetch her." "Well, it's a good thing you dropped in, Senator, just when you did," began Mollenhauer, seating himself after his guest.
Although he was dealing privately for Edward Butler as an agent, and with this same plan in mind, and although he had never met either Mollenhauer or Simpson, he nevertheless felt that in so far as the manipulation of the city loan was concerned he was acting for them.
You've let a single message from Mollenhauer frighten you to death, and because of that you're going to risk your fortune, your reputation, your standing everything. Do you really realize what this means if I fail? You will be a convict, I tell you, George. You will go to prison.
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