The Steadfast Heart/Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Events have a way of moving with such sluggishness that their motion is all but imperceptible—of so moving until they seem to gather impetus with starling suddenness for a momentous onrush to some predestined objective. There is a subtility and finesse about it, a patent effort on the part of fate to catch its object unaware and to hurl him forward to its purpose before he realizes he has been caught in the avalanche-rush. It was so now with events in Rainbow. For years they had crawled, had seemed at a standstill; but now the irresistible pressure had begun, and before it Angus Burke, Lydia Canfield, Judge Crane, Dave Wilkins—and others all but forgotten in the monotony of the drama—were being driven headlong to their several climaxes.
Verry, the eccentric, alcoholic, ingenious fisher in the stream of opportunity, was the puppet selected by circumstances to unloose forces of whose potentiality he did not dream, and which, without doubt, he never perceived.
Verry was an opportunist, and so, perceiving the ascendancy of Judge Crane’s star, he hitched his wagon to it, and while he did not totally ignore Angus, and while for purposes of valuable publicity he still clung to Dave Wilkins, he placed his main dependence upon Rainbow’s financial giant. Crane, as was the nature of the man, was easily persuaded. The inventor’s confidence in Crane’s ability to call out money for investment in any project he chose to father at this time was not misplaced, for Rainbow set a high value on its Circuit Judge. It endowed him with the golden touch. He was reputed to be on the point of accepting an enormous sum from the Standard Oil Company for his land and options—and there were whispers of other mysterious and fortunate ventures whose exact character was unknown to Rainbow…. If there had not been other ventures in finance, how had he been able to produce so much ready money for his oil project?… This latter was a question which gave Angus Burke no little concern.
As for Crane, he was a man not to be envied, if the facts had been exhibited for appraisal. He was a worried man, a harried and vexed man…. This much may be said for him: He believed honestly in the presence of oil, and that a matter of weeks separated him from the wealth of which he dreamed. It was those intervening weeks that worried him. Money, money, money. Everywhere he turned were more insistent demands for ready cash—and he was rapidly approaching a moment when he would have no more cash to supply. He was a selfish man, a shortsighted man. At this time he could have had capital, not in abundance, for Rainbow was not wealthy, but in sufficient sums to carry on his work—but, according to his nature, he would not share. It was to be all his own, to him, and undivided…. Crane was honest—as men go—ready, perhaps, to strike a shrewd bargain, prepared to take advantage of opportunity in almost any guise, so long as it did not display too baldly the face of trickery—nevertheless it would have been unfair to the man, much as one might dislike him, to say at this date, that he was other than ordinarily honest….
It was on the fifteenth of July that Judge Crane made formal announcement of the incorporation of the Rainbow Novelties Company, and opened its books for stock subscriptions. Verry was president of the new concern; Judge Crane its secretary-treasurer…. Nor was he disappointed in his ability to interest the village’s hoarded capital. Rainbow, with an enthusiasm which was foreign to it, but which doubtless was due to the presence in epidemic form of the microbe of speculation, came forward enthusiastically to put its money into the project in sums which ran all the way from one share at ten dollars to ten shares, or even a hundred shares. The price of the shares had been made low for a benevolent reason, or so Crane informed his neighbors—so that nobody in Rainbow need be barred from some participation in this new prosperity which was descending upon their town.
The first week of the financing saw twenty thousand dollars’ worth of the new company’s securities disposed of. The total amount of stock to be sold, by Crane’s advice, was set at fifty thousand dollars instead of the twenty-five Verry had estimated to be necessary. It was like Crane—he was now a man who did things in a big way…. But even Angus Burke, under whose doubting and analytical eye a project must demonstrate itself to be of the soundest, had no word to utter against the Rainbow Novelties Company—indeed he invested a few hundred dollars, which represented his savings, in the stock. He went further, advising Henry G. Woodhouse to give the company his countenance, and, while awaiting his answer, a block of ten thousand dollars was set aside for him.
As the days passed it seemed that every man, woman, and child in Rainbow was destined to become a stockholder—that the Novelties Company was to be a real community project. Even farmers living at a distance, drove in with musty bills, or carefully kept and much-thumbed bank books, to make their small investments….
Meantime operations up the river had been progressing steadily. Three wells were being sunk at suitable distances from each other, and each was devouring money with an avidity which frightened Judge Crane. The payroll was not small, materials were costly, the drain was constant and ever growing in volume. The man was coming rapidly to the bottom of his purse—and now, even had he been willing to admit Rainbow to his company, he could not have done so, for Rainbow had invested. Its savings were exhausted. Each Saturday Crane paid off his crew and knew fresh apprehensions. If they did not strike oil soon!… Oil, oil, oil! He urged on his men, driving, driving…. But your driller is not to be hurried. He has drilled before, will drill again. They know their business and go forward with the work in a more or less stolid manner, having no hazard in the result. Their daily wage was their sole concern…. If they struck oil—well and good—if not—it was a matter over which to shrug the shoulders.
And so Crane found himself in the position of many men before him who have sought to swing large projects with small capital. He was drawing nearer to the day when he would have to strike oil; when oil was an absolute necessity. It must gush—or disaster, waiting now in readiness, would seize him. It was a trying, racking position; more than once it has been found sufficiently strong to break down the barriers of strict honesty. When money must be had and none is forthcoming, the most virtuous of men will be no stranger to temptation.
Malcolm Crane was moving irresistibly toward that point.