The Lockwood Concern (10 page)

Daphne Lockwood looked exactly like her brother, was the same height, had no bust and had a scramble of incisors that made her speech inaudible, made extra-inaudible by her habit of covering her mouth with her fingers. Rhoda Lockwood, the other sister, was dumpy like her mother, and washed her hands and face only when specifically ordered to do so. Long past the age when it was excusably childish, the sisters would giggle together whenever any visitor came to the house. There were other problems the sisters might create: Rhoda, at fifteen, had once slapped her mother when Abraham kissed their mother goodnight. Daphne, when late for a meal, could usually be found locked in the privy. Thus from his reappraisal of Philadelphia had Abraham Lockwood gone to a realistic appreciation of his own situation. And realistic it was, for he saw that only as an upstater coming to Philadelphia could he count on the continuing friendship of his University chums, friendship that could be extremely useful in a business way; and he now was determined to make money and look toward Gibbsville for a suitable partner in marriage. He came home from the army, and delighted his father with the announcement that he had decided to cast his lot with the Lockwood enterprises. Abraham Lockwood was so much smarter than the men with whom he was soon doing business that he found that he could afford to be somewhat less ruthless than his father had become. The result of his calculated kindness was that people preferred to do business with him. He made no large scale moves without his father's approval; now it was a case of building a more amicable relationship - good will it was called - while the methods and aims remained essentially the same. Abraham Lockwood did not foreclose as quickly as his father and grandfather had done, but a farmer who needed more time would find that in exchange for time he had given time and money. The interest rate would be the same; the farmer would simply go on paying it an extra year or two, and en passant be advised to make all purchases - harness, gunpowder, tobacco, salt, nails, molasses - through the Swedish Haven Mercantile Company, a Lockwood concern. The establishment of a bank was long overdue in Swedish Haven; it could not, however, be established without the knowledge of the Lockwoods, father and son, who were themselves very much in the business of lending money. They were therefore prepared for the invitation to discuss the formation of a bank, and when the invitation came they surprised the somewhat timid merchants by agreeing to participate. The new institution was an accomplished fact before the merchants fully realized that the Lockwoods controlled it, while continuing their own business of lending money at higher rates. The bank got exactly as much business as the Lockwoods chose to allow it, and no one would be so foolish as to dream that Swedish Haven could support a second bank. If only indirectly, every citizen of the borough and its environs contributed to the financial well-being of the Lockwoods. Three years after Appomattox, Abraham Lockwood decided that things were going well enough for him to reinvest some of the family cash. His father demurred; he knew the value of a front foot on Dock Street and an acre of high timberland in the Richter Valley, but he was suspicious of the world of stocks and bonds. He had seen where waste and graft and plain theft reduced the profits of the railways and the canal, and as for buying shares in far-off enterprises, he protested that it was giving strangers the combination of your safe. "You forget that I have friends," said Abraham Lockwood. "I wouldn't be going to strangers. They would be men who would want to make a profit out of us, but they're entitled to it if our profit is bigger." "I would like to see the money stay here. Maybe we could build a factory around here." "Later on, Father. Let's stay in the money business for the time being." Abraham Lockwood, not to show his hand, waited for the annual dinner of alumni members of The Ruffes. Half the members had married since leaving the University and for most of them the intimate frolics were a thing of the past (and possibly of the future). This circumstance was a fortuitous one for Abraham Lockwood, in that his reunion with his friends was conducted on more dignified terms, and the conversation quickly got around to the kind of life the clubmates were living and thus to talk of business. "I have my fingers in a lot of pies," said Abraham Lockwood, when it came his turn. "My father and I of course have the bank, and I've got him to put his money in this and that. Nothing that would seem big to you fellows, but in our part of the world a man with a thousand dollars is very well off." Among his listeners were young men who knew a great deal about his part of the world through their holdings in coal and railways. One friend in particular, Harry Penn Downs, admitted to having passed through Swedish Haven twice in the past year while on business in Gibbsville. He was mildly apologetic for not having stopped over in Swedish Haven. "Oh, I understand, Harry. And even if you'd stopped over I might not have been there. I'm away a lot, looking at this and that for possible investment." He did not mind lying to Harry Penn Downs if a lie asserted his independence of Philadelphia and Gibbsville. "To tell you the truth, I've been here a few times on my way to New York. Just between trains." "New York?" said Downs. "Philadelphia isn't the only place. And I doubt if the Drexels are aware that my father and I exist." "Well, the Drexels aren't the only bankers in Philadelphia. You ought to know that." "Are there others? One thing they all have in common with the Drexels - they've never heard of us either. On the other hand, we've had very pleasant dealings with a New York concern." "What concern, may I ask?" said Downs. "You may not. And in any event, why are we mixing business with pleasure? At home all I ever get to talk about is business. Harry, you? What do you do for relaxation?" "Oh, I imagine I'm like the others here. Morris has his City Troop, and we all see each other at the dancing parties. But most of us are like you. Working hard. This is the time, you know. The next ten years tell the story, wouldn't you say, fellows?" The others agreed. "What story?" said Abraham Lockwood. "Well, this is the time of our lives when our families overload us with work. Make us learn the game. And what we do now, the next ten years, determines a man's ultimate future. Not that it's all business." "No, indeed," said someone. "But it's work. Charity work. Committee work. And going out in society. Not one of us can say his time is his own. "Hear, hear," said someone. "And of course we're increasing the population, most of us," said Harry Downs. "You're not, though, are you, Locky?" "I hope not," said Abraham Lockwood. "And I don't do much in the charitable line. My father contributes to this and that, but I prefer to put my money to work. Later, when I've made a little pile, I'll pick my own charities." Everything he said was calculated to make them think, to make them think and remember him and want to do business with him, and to recall that he was so far from using his old friendships that he was bypassing Philadelphia for New York. Any earlier suspicion they might have had that he was a climber was now being allayed. Before the evening was over Harry Downs and Morris Homestead separately invited him to lunch before returning to Swedish Haven. He declined both invitations because, he said, he was taking an early train to New York. As he had anticipated, he received letters from Homestead and Downs. He arranged to meet Downs at the Gibbsville Club on Harry's next visit to the region. He dismissed Homestead with a friendly but vague reply; Homestead was not his man. Morris Homestead would never need money himself and would not be eager to make it for anyone else. He was interested in fox-hunting, food and wine, club life and his family. He had not even been a particularly good whist player, and his membership in The Ruffes was due to the fact that he could not be left out of any good club in Philadelphia. He was a quiet, clean-cut, well bred, courtly bore, already worth eight million dollars and with as much again to come his way when his mother died. There was not even much use to cultivate him for the future, when Abraham Lockwood might seriously cock an eye at the Philadelphia Club. Morris Homestead would never support the candidacy of anyone who was not automatically qualified, as Abraham Lockwood had reason to know from experience in The Ruffes' deliberations. Harry Downs was another story. He was extravagantly proud of the Penn in his name, but his family during the post-Revolutionary years had never had a considerable fortune. He played cards to win, so much so that in college days he was the most intense and abstemious player, drinking almost nothing, and impersonally critical of his partners' play. For three years he had been the most consistent winner, if not the most congenial member of The Ruffes. His moneymaking was postponed by the War, during which he was brevetted major and wounded by mortar fire at Gettysburg. After the War he became frenetically dedicated to the making of money, and he was Abraham Lockwood's man. They dined together at the Gibbsville Club. "Locky, you hurt Morris Homestead's feelings," said Harry Downs. "Why?" said Abraham Lockwood. He was a little surprised that Harry Downs would know of Homestead's overtures. "Or should I say, how?" "It's a great privilege to be asked to become a client of Homestead & Company." "I wasn't. I was asked for lunch, and I couldn't go." "Well, it's a great privilege to be asked to lunch by Morris Homestead. Some people would cancel a trip to New York." "Morris is a nice fellow, but as you said that night, these are the years that count. Why did Morris ask me to lunch?" "Possibly because he thought I was going to. He doesn't go after new business, but he feels that Homestead & Company have every bit as much right to you as we have." "As you have? Are you after new business, Harry?" "Yes, Locky. Yours." "Where did you get the idea that our business would be worth going after?" "From you, first, and then I've been hearing reports right here in this club. Our friends here tell us that you and your father have a miniature empire in Swedish Haven." "It's miniature, I assure you." "I wonder. I'm told that both you and your father have turned down directorships in the Gibbsville Trust Company. Very wise." "That was my father's decision. We'd have nothing to gain. We don't want Gibbsville men encroaching on our territory, so to speak. But we couldn't keep them out if we were fellow directors. You know how those things are. For the same reason we haven't had anything to do with Philadelphia. Philadelphia money is all over this county - except Swedish Haven. We would like to keep that for ourselves, and we're going to, if we can." "You won't be able to forever. I say that in a friendly spirit." "You say it as a friend, but I detect a warning note." "Yes, Locky, there's a faint warning note." "From Philadelphia? All the way from Philadelphia?" "No. From Gibbsville, only four or five miles. There are some Gibbsville men who don't see why you should have it "How much are you going to confide in me, Harry?" "I've already told you as much as I should as a friend." "Yes, and I thank you. But from now on, it's business?" "Yes," said Harry Downs. "Your New York people won't help you, at least as much as we could." "Oh, you're implying that we need help?" "Not yet, but if you did need help, would New York come to your rescue?" "No. We haven't given them that much business, and I have to tell you now, Harry. My father isn't in the New York transactions at all. It's all me, my own money." "I could almost guess that, from what I heard of your father." "So we can leave him out of this discussion." "That's fine. I'd rather. Now I'm dealing with the principal himself." "All right. Why don't you just forget about New York and let me try to make some money for you?" "You surely don't expect me to say yes or no right away? As you said, Harry, a while back this became business, not two friends." "Said it and meant it, and we'll be friends whatever the outcome of this conversation." "Always, I hope. Now you've asked me to do business with you, a compliment, because you don't know what kind of business I'd bring you. It won't be large, at least at first, and never large by Philadelphia standards. But the character of the business. You don't know anything about that, so I'll tell you. I am interested in one thing - making money. Two things - making money and making it quickly. Therefore, the character of my business would be, simply, speculation. Does that interest you?" "Very much. We can always find customers for conservative investments. That's the bread-and-butter business. Trust funds. Large estates. Elderly people. People that are satisfied with small returns on their money. But as you know, the big, quick money is made in speculation. And lost. Your father has made his money one way, you want to make yours the other. I lead a double life, Locky. I'm a conservative, three-percent man when I come to Gibbsville. But part of the time I'm a gambler." "How have you done, as a gambler?" "So far, I'm ahead of the game." "Why? Oh, I see. You want to know if it's on my own hook or through private information. Frankly, it's mostly on my own. I watch a stock until I know its fluctuations. At a certain low, I buy it. At a certain high, I sell. And I do it on margin. I couldn't afford to do it otherwise. Everybody does what I do. Nothing unusual about it except that I may be a little more attentive than most fellows." "I'm sure you are. Well, is it your idea that I turn over a certain amount of money for you to speculate with?" "Yes." "To you, and not to the firm of Haynes & Webster?" "If you want to do your own trading, you could do it through Haynes & Webster. But if you decide you want to gamble, that would be through me. My personal account. I would take your money and gamble with it, and at the end of a stated period, six months, a year, we cut up the profits." Abraham Lockwood smiled. "Not very businesslike, is it?" "No. For all you know, I could use your money to gamble with, never risk a cent of my own, and still take half your profits." "That's what I was thinking." "That's what I knew you were thinking. But not if I told you what stocks I was speculating in. Then you'd know to the penny." "But if you told me the names of the stocks, I wouldn't need you at all, would I?" "Of course not. In this kind of transaction we have to trust each other. For example, if you turned over $5,000 I would then tell you the names of the stocks I was buying. But I would be trusting you not to speculate in them