Chapter 6
Henry de Sota Sippens was the man whom Cowperwood thought of at once to send to London to spy out the physical aspects and financial possibilities of the London underground system.
Years before, he had discovered Sippens, who had been invaluable in the negotiations to secure the contract for Chicago gas. And with the money made from that venture, Cowperwood had invaded the Chicago street railway field, and had included Sippens, because, as he had learned, the man had a genuine talent for spying out and aiding in the development of any public utility or service. He was inclined to be nervous and irritable, easily set jangling, therefore not always diplomatic; but on the other hand, he was wholly loyal, though possessed of an uncompromising midwestern “Americanism” which often proved as irritating as it was valuable.
In the opinion of Sippens, at the present moment, Cowperwood had received an almost fatal body blow in the defeat in connection with his local franchises. He could not see how the man could ever restore himself with the local financiers who had invested with him and were now likely to lose some of their money. Since the night of the defeat, Sippens had been nervous about meeting him again. What was he to say? How sympathize with a man who up to a week ago had been one of the world’s seemingly unconquerable financial giants?
Yet now, only the third day after that defeat, there came to Sippens a telegram from one of Cowperwood’s secretaries requesting him to call on his former employer. Meeting him and finding him cheerful, sparkling, vibrating with good humor, Sippens could scarcely believe his eyes.
“Well, how’s the Chief? I’m glad to see you looking so well.”
“I never felt better, De Sota. And how are you? Ready for any fate?”
“Well, you ought to know, Chief. I’ve been standing by. It’s whatever you say with me.”
“I know that, De Sota,” replied Cowperwood, smiling. For in truth, because of his compensating success with Berenice, he was feeling that the greatest pages of his life’s history were about to be opened and written upon, and he felt not only hopeful but kindly toward all. “I have something I want you to undertake for me. I sent for you, De Sota, because I need reliability and secrecy, and I know you’re the man!”
And for the moment his lips stiffened, and his eyes took on that hard, fixed, metallic, inscrutable luster which those who mistrusted and feared him hated. Sippens threw out his chest and chin and stood at attention. He was a little man, not more than five feet four, but heightened by high-heeled shoes and a top hat that he never doffed to anyone but Cowperwood. He wore a long double-breasted and skirted coat, which he thought gave him height and dignity.
“Thanks, Chief,” he said, “you know I’d go to hell for you any time.” His lips almost trembled, so wrought-up was he, not only by Cowperwood’s combined faith and flattery but by all that he had been compelled to endure during the past few months as well as throughout the years of their association.
“But it’s nothing like going through hell this time, De Sota,” said Cowperwood, relaxing and smiling. “We’ve just done that here in Chicago, and we won’t have to do it again. And I’m going to show you why. What I want to talk to you about now, De Sota, is London and its underground system, and the possibility of my doing something over there.”
And here he paused and motioned blandly and easily to Sippens to take the chair closest to him, while Sippens, thoroughly aroused by the bare possibilities of something so different and interesting, fairly gasped.
“London! You don’t say, Chief. Great! I knew you’d do something, Chief! I knew it! Oh, I can’t tell you how this makes me feel, Chief!” As he spoke, his face brightened as with a light turned on within, and his fingers twitched. He half rose and then sat down again, a sure sign of excitement within him. He pulled at his fierce and rather top-heavy mustache, while he contemplated Cowperwood with brooding and wholly reassured admiration.
“Thanks, De Sota,” commented Cowperwood at this point. “I thought it might interest you.”
“Interest me, Chief!” returned Sippens, excitedly. “Why, Chief, you’re one of the wonders of the world! Why, here you are, scarcely through with these Chicago bastards and you’re ready to tackle a thing like this! It’s marvelous! I always knew no one could put you down, but after this last thing, I confess I was prepared to see you sag a little. But not you, Chief! It just isn’t in you to wilt. You’re too big, that’s all. I’d break under a thing like that myself. I know I would. I’d quit, I admit it. But not you! Well, all I want to know is what you want me to do, Chief, and I’ll do it! And no one will know a thing, if that’s what you want, Chief.”
“Well, that’s one of the things, De Sota,” said Cowperwood. “Secrecy and that good hard-boiled traction sense of yours! It’ll come in handy in connection with this idea of mine, if I go through with it. And neither one of us is going to be any the worse off for it, either.”
“Don’t mention it, Chief, don’t mention it,” went on De Sota, tense almost to the breaking point. “I’ve had enough out of you if I never get another cent between now and the time we pass out. Just you tell me what you want and I’ll do it to the best of my ability, or I’ll come back and tell you that I can’t do it.”
“You never told me that yet, De Sota, and I don’t believe you ever will. But here it is, in a nutshell. About a year ago, when we were all busy with this extension business here, there were two Englishmen here from London, representing a London syndicate of some kind. I’ll give you the details later, but this is a rough idea . . .”
And he outlined all that Greaves and Henshaw had said to him, concluding with the thought which was in his own mind at the time.
“It’s all too top-heavy with money already expended, as you see, De Sota. Nearly $500,000 and nothing to show for it except that act or franchise for a line four or five miles long. And that has to be connected in some way by track rights over these two other systems before it can really come to anything. They admitted that themselves. But what I’m interested in now, De Sota, is to find out not only all about this whole London underground system as it stands now, but the possibility of a much bigger system, if such a thing is possible. You know what I mean, of course—with lines that would pay, say, if pushed into territories not yet reached by any other. You understand?”
“Perfectly, Chief!”
“Besides that,” he went on, “I want maps of the general layout and character of the city, its traction lines, surface or underground, where they start from and where they end, together with the geological formation, if we can find that out. Also the neighborhoods or districts they reach, the sort of people living in them now or who are likely to live there. You understand?”
“Perfectly, Chief, perfectly!”
“Then, too, I want to know all about the franchises covering those lines as they exist now—those acts, I believe they call them—their duration, the length of the lines, who owns them, their biggest stockholders, how they’re operated, how much their shares pay—everything, in fact, that you can find out without attracting too much attention to yourself, and certainly no attention to me. You understand that, of course, and why?”
“Perfectly, Chief, perfectly!”
“Then, De Sota, I’d like to know all about wages, as well as operational costs, in connection with the existing lines.”
“Right, Chief,” echoed Sippens, already in his own mind planning his work.
“Then there’s the matter of digging and equipment costs, the losses and new costs in connection with changing lines which are now in existence from steam—which is what I understand they use over there—to electricity, the new third-rail idea they’re talking about using in New York in that new subway. You know, the English do differently and feel differently about these things, and I want all you can tell me about that. Lastly, maybe you can find out something about the land values that are likely to be made by what we do, and whether