The Titan | Page 9

was confident of the future of it. Cowperwood
gathered it all, almost by instinct. Gas, street-railways, land
speculations, banks, wherever located, were his chief thoughts.
Finally he left the club to keep his other appointments, but something
of his personality remained behind him. Mr. Addison and Mr.
Rambaud, among others, were sincerely convinced that he was one of
the most interesting men they had met in years. And he scarcely had
said anything at all--just listened.
Chapter III

A Chicago Evening
After his first visit to the bank over which Addison presided, and an
informal dinner at the latter's home, Cowperwood had decided that he
did not care to sail under any false colors so far as Addison was

concerned. He was too influential and well connected. Besides,
Cowperwood liked him too much. Seeing that the man's leaning toward
him was strong, in reality a fascination, he made an early morning call
a day or two after he had returned from Fargo, whither he had gone at
Mr. Rambaud's suggestion, on his way back to Philadelphia,
determined to volunteer a smooth presentation of his earlier
misfortunes, and trust to Addison's interest to make him view the
matter in a kindly light. He told him the whole story of how he had
been convicted of technical embezzlement in Philadelphia and had
served out his term in the Eastern Penitentiary. He also mentioned his
divorce and his intention of marrying again.
Addison, who was the weaker man of the two and yet forceful in his
own way, admired this courageous stand on Cowperwood's part. It was
a braver thing than he himself could or would have achieved. It
appealed to his sense of the dramatic. Here was a man who apparently
had been dragged down to the very bottom of things, his face forced in
the mire, and now he was coming up again strong, hopeful, urgent. The
banker knew many highly respected men in Chicago whose early
careers, as he was well aware, would not bear too close an inspection,
but nothing was thought of that. Some of them were in society, some
not, but all of them were powerful. Why should not Cowperwood be
allowed to begin all over? He looked at him steadily, at his eyes, at his
stocky body, at his smooth, handsome, mustached face. Then he held
out his hand.
"Mr. Cowperwood," he said, finally, trying to shape his words
appropriately, "I needn't say that I am pleased with this interesting
confession. It appeals to me. I'm glad you have made it to me. You
needn't say any more at any time. I decided the day I saw you walking
into that vestibule that you were an exceptional man; now I know it.
You needn't apologize to me. I haven't lived in this world fifty years
and more without having my eye-teeth cut. You're welcome to the
courtesies of this bank and of my house as long as you care to avail
yourself of them. We'll cut our cloth as circumstances dictate in the
future. I'd like to see you come to Chicago, solely because I like you
personally. If you decide to settle here I'm sure I can be of service to

you and you to me. Don't think anything more about it; I sha'n't ever
say anything one way or another. You have your own battle to fight,
and I wish you luck. You'll get all the aid from me I can honestly give
you. Just forget that you told me, and when you get your matrimonial
affairs straightened out bring your wife out to see us."
With these things completed Cowperwood took the train back to
Philadelphia.
"Aileen," he said, when these two met again--she had come to the train
to meet him--"I think the West is the answer for us. I went up to Fargo
and looked around up there, but I don't believe we want to go that far.
There's nothing but prairie-grass and Indians out in that country. How'd
you like to live in a board shanty, Aileen," he asked, banteringly, "with
nothing but fried rattlesnakes and prairie-dogs for breakfast? Do you
think you could stand that?"
"Yes," she replied, gaily, hugging his arm, for they had entered a closed
carriage; "I could stand it if you could. I'd go anywhere with you, Frank.
I'd get me a nice Indian dress with leather and beads all over it and a
feather hat like they wear, and--"
"There you go! Certainly! Pretty clothes first of all in a miner's shack.
That's the way."
"You wouldn't love me long if I didn't put pretty clothes first," she
replied, spiritedly. "Oh, I'm so glad to get you back!"
"The trouble is," he went on, "that that country up there isn't as
promising as Chicago. I