Ragged Trousered Philanthropists/Chapter 23

by Robert Tressell

CHAPTER XXIII

The Brigands

The town of Mugsborough was governed by a set of individuals called the Municipal Council. Most of these 'representatives of the people' were well-to-do or retired tradesmen, for in the opinion of the inhabitants of Mugsborough the fact that a man had succeeded in accumulating money in business was a clear demonstration of his fitness to be intrusted with the business of the town.

The Municipal Council did just what they pleased. No one ever interfered with them. They never consulted the ratepayers in any way. Even at election times they did not trouble to hold meetings: each one of them issued a kind of manifesto setting forth his many noble qualities and calling for votes from the people, who never failed to respond, and who elected the same old crew of highly respectable brigands time after time.

The chief of the band was Mr Adam Sweater, managing director and principal shareholder of the large drapery business from which he had amassed a considerable fortune. Then there was Mr Rushton, 'the working man's Candidate'; Mr Amos Grinder, who had practically monopolised the greengrocery trade of the town; Mr Jeremiah Didlum, house-furnisher and 'Hire System' trader, who also did a big business in second hand stuffs; and various other prosperous tradesmen chosen by the inhabitants of Mugsborough to watch over their interests. There was only one member of the Council who did not belong to the band of brigands. This was Councillor Weakling, a retired physician, whose feeble protests against measures he disapproved of always ended in collapse.

For many years the brigands had looked with envious eyes on the huge profits of the Gas Company, and, bent on capturing the spoils, they formed themselves into an association called 'The Mugsborough Electric Light Supply and Installation Co., Ltd.,' and vowed a solemn vow to drive the Gas 'Bandits' out of the town. With this end in view they bought a piece of town land from the municipality, that is to say, themselves, for half its value, and built the Electric Light Company works thereon. The Municipal Council then passed a measure that the duty on all coal brought into the borough should be raised from two to three shillings a ton, by which manœuvre they piously hoped to drive a final nail in the Gas Company Bandits' coffin.

That was two years ago, and since that time the Electric Light Works had been built and the war against the gasworks carried on vigorously. After several encounters in which they lost a few customers and a portion of the public lighting, the Gasworks Bandits retreated out of the town and entrenched themselves in a strong position beyond the borough boundary, where they erected a number of gasometers from which they were enabled to pour gas into the town at long range without having to pay the coal dues.

This masterly stratagem created something like a panic in the ranks of The Mugsborough Electric Light Supply, Ltd. At the end of two years they found themselves exhausted with the protracted campaign, their movements hampered by a lot of worn out plant and antiquated machinery, and harassed on every side by the lower charges of the Gas Company. They were reluctantly constrained to admit that the attempt to undermine the Gasworks was a melancholy failure, and that the Mugsborough Electric Light and Installation Company was a veritable white elephant. They began to ask themselves what they should do with it; and some of them even urged unconditional surrender, or an appeal to the arbitration of the bankruptcy court.

In the midst of all the confusion and demoralisation, however, there was one man who did not lose his presence of mind, who in this dark hour of disaster remained calm and immovable, and, like a vast mountain of flesh, reared his head above the storm, and perceived a way to turn this apparently hopeless defeat into a glorious victory.

That man was Adam Sweater, the Chief of the Band, and it was to Sweater's office that three harassed directors of the Mugsborough Electric Light Supply and Installation Company Ltd., Messrs Rushton, Didlum and Grinder, met their chief in order to discuss their unfortunate commercial venture.

'For my part,' Grinder was saying, 'I think the best thing as we can do is to chuck up the sponge at once. The Company is practically bankrupt now, and the longer we waits the worser it'll be.'

'That's my opinion,' said Didlum dejectedly. 'If we could supply the electric light at the same price as gas, or a little cheaper, we might have some chance; but we can't do it. The fact is that the machinery we've got is no dam good; it's too small and it's wore out, consequently the light we supply is inferior to gas and costs more.'

'Yes, I think we're fairly beaten this time,' said Rushton. 'Why, even if the Gas Company hadn't moved their works beyond the borough boundary still we shouldn't 'ave been hable to compete with 'em.'

'Of course not,' said Grinder. 'The truth of the matter is just wot Didlum says. Our machinery is too small, it's worn hout, and good for nothing but to be throwed on the scrap-heap, so there's only one thing left to do and that is, go into liquidation.'

'I don't see it,' remarked Sweater.

'Well, what do you propose, then?' demanded Grinder. 'Reconstruct the company? Ask the shareholders for more money? Pull down the works and build fresh and buy some new machinery and then most likely not make a do of it after all? Not for me, old chap! I've 'ad enough. You won't catch me chuckin' good money after bad like that.'

'Nor me neither,' said Rushton.

'Dead orf!' remarked Didlum, very decidedly.

Sweater laughed. 'I'm not such a fool as to suggest anything of that sort,' he said. 'You seem to forget that I am one of the largest shareholders myself. No. What I propose is that we sell out.'

'Sell out!' replied Grinder, with a contemptuous laugh in which the others joined. 'Who's going to buy the shares of a concern that's practically bankrupt and never paid a dividend?'

'I've tried to sell my little lot several times already,' said Didlum, with a sickly smile, 'but nobody won't buy 'em.'

'Who's to buy?' repeated Sweater, replying to Grinder, 'The Municipality of course! The ratepayers! Why shouldn't Mugsborough go in for Socialism as well as other towns?'

Rushton, Didlum and Grinder fairly gasped for breath: the audacity of the chiefs proposal nearly paralyzed them.

'I'm afraid we should never git away with it,' ejaculated Didlum, as soon as he could speak; 'when the people tumbled to it, there'd be no hend of a row.'

'People! Row!' replied Sweater, scornfully. 'The majority of the people will never know anything about it! Listen to me——'

'Are you quite sure as we can't be over-'eard?' interrupted Rushton, glancing nervously at the door and round the office.

'It's all right,' answered Sweater, who nevertheless lowered his voice almost to a whisper; and the others drew their chairs closer and bent forward to listen.

'You know we still have a little money in hand. Well, what I propose is this. At the Annual Meeting, which, as you know, comes off next week, we'll arrange for the secretary to read a highly satisfactory report, and we'll declare a dividend of 15 per cent—we can arrange it somehow between us. Of course we'll have to cook the accounts a little, but I'll see that it's done properly. The other shareholders are not going to ask any awkward questions, and we all understand each other.'

Sweater paused, and regarded the other three brigands intently. 'Do you follow me?' he asked.

'Yes, yes,' said Didlum eagerly; 'go on with it.' And Rushton and Grinder nodded assent.

'Afterwards,' resumed Sweater, 'I'll arrange for a good report of the meeting to appear in the "Weekly Ananias." I'll instruct the Editor to write it himself, and tell him just what to say. I'll also get him to write a leader saying that electricity is sure to supersede gas for lighting purposes in the very near future, referring to the huge profits made by the Gas Company, and remarking how much better it would have been if the town had bought the gasworks years ago so that those profits might have been used to reduce the rates the same as has been done in other towns. Finally the article will declare that it's a great pity that the Electric Light Supply should be in the hands of a private company, and suggest that an effort be made to acquire it for the town. In the meantime we can all go about—in a very quiet and judicious way, of course—bragging of what a good thing we've got, and saying we don't mean to sell. We shall say that we've overcome all the initial expenses and difficulties connected with the installation of the works, that we are only just beginning to reap our reward, and so on.'

'Then,' continued the Chief, 'we can arrange for it to be proposed in the Council that the Town should purchase the Electric Light Works.'

'But not by one of us four, you know,' said Grinder, with a cunning leer.

'Certainly not. Several members who are not shareholders can do most of the talking. As directors of the company we must pretend to be against selling, and stick out for our own price; and when we do finally consent we must make out that we are sacrificing our private interests for the good of the town. We'll get a committee appointed, we'll have an expert engineer down from London—I know a man that will suit our purpose admirably—we'll pay him a trifle and he'll say whatever we tell him to, and we'll rush the whole business through before you can say "Jack Robinson" and before the ratepayers have time to realise what's being done. Not that we need worry ourselves much about them; most of them take no interest in public affairs. But even if there is something said it won't matter much to us once we've got the money. It'll be a nine days' wonder and then we'll hear no more of it.'

As the Chief ceased speaking the other brigands also remained silent, speechless with admiration of his cleverness.

'Well, what do you think of it?' he asked.

'Think of it!' cried Grinder, enthusiastically, 'I reckon it'll be one of the smartest things we've ever done.'

'Smart ain't the word!' exclaimed Rushton.

'The great thing is,' continued Sweater, 'to get the business properly worked up in the newspapers. I'll see that "The Ananias" and "The Chloroform" are all right, and you must take care that "The Obscurer" backs me up, Grinder.'

'Trust me for that,' said Grinder grimly. The three local papers were run by limited companies, Sweater holding nearly all the shares of 'The Ananias' and 'The Weekly Chloroform,' while Grinder held the same position with regard to 'The Obscurer.'

'I wonder 'ow Dr Weakling will take it,' said Rushton.

'That's what I was thinkin' about,' remarked Didlum. 'Couldn't we arrange to 'ave somebody took bad, in a fit or something, just outside the Town 'All, and call 'im out to attend to the party and keep 'im busy till our business is done?'

'Who could we get to 'ave a fit?' said Grinder thoughtfully. 'It would 'ave to be someone as we could trust.'

''Ow about Rushton? You wouldn't mind, would yer?' suggested Didlum.

'I should strongly object!' returned Rushton haughtily, apparently regarding the suggestion as an insult.

'Well, well,' said Sweater, 'we needn't worry about Weakling; we can soon put a stopper on him. But now, as we're all agreed, I want to tell you a bit of good news. The Gas Company may have beaten us, but it hasn't been much of a picnic for them. We hit them pretty hard over the coal dues. I happen to know they are getting a bit sick of the fight because they don't know exactly how hard we're hit. Anyhow, to make a long story short: I've had a talk with the managing director and one or two others and they are willing for us to go in with them. So we can put the money for the Electric Light Works into the gas shares.'

This was indeed glad tidings, and after deciding the coal dues must now be abolished in order to relieve the poor, they concluded the proceedings with a whisky and soda all round, in spite of the fact that Didlum was a teetotaller.