The Octopus by Frank Norris (best e reader for academics TXT) đ
- Author: Frank Norris
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âMr. Derrick, good-morning,â he cried as he came up. âGood-morning, Harran. Glad to see you back, Mr. Derrick.â He held out a thick hand.
Magnus, head and shoulders above the other, tall, thin, erect, looked down upon S. Behrman, inclining his head, failing to see his extended hand.
âGood-morning, sir,â he observed, and waited for S. Behrmanâs further speech.
âWell, Mr. Derrick,â continued S. Behrman, wiping the back of his neck with his handkerchief, âI saw in the city papers yesterday that our case had gone against you.â
âI guess it wasnât any great news to YOU,â commented Harran, his face scarlet. âI guess you knew which way Ulsteen was going to jump after your very first interview with him. You donât like to be surprised in this sort of thing, S. Behrman.â
âNow, you know better than that, Harran,â remonstrated S. Behrman blandly. âI know what you mean to imply, but I ainât going to let it make me get mad. I wanted to say to your GovernorâI wanted to say to you, Mr. Derrickâas one man to anotherâletting alone for the minute that we were on opposite sides of the caseâ that Iâm sorry you didnât win. Your side made a good fight, but it was in a mistaken cause. Thatâs the whole trouble. Why, you could have figured out before you ever went into the case that such rates are confiscation of property. You must allow usâmust allow the railroadâa fair interest on the investment. You donât want us to go into the receiverâs hands, do you now, Mr. Derrick?â
âThe Board of Railroad Commissioners was bought,â remarked Magnus sharply, a keen, brisk flash glinting in his eye.
âIt was part of the game,â put in Harran, âfor the Railroad Commission to cut rates to a ridiculous figure, far below a REASONABLE figure, just so that it WOULD be confiscation. Whether Ulsteen is a tool of yours or not, he had to put the rates back to what they were originally.â
âIf you enforced those rates, Mr. Harran,â returned S. Behrman calmly, âwe wouldnât be able to earn sufficient money to meet operating expenses or fixed charges, to say nothing of a surplus left over to pay dividendsâ-â
âTell me when the P. and S. W. ever paid dividends.â
âThe lowest rates,â continued S. Behrman, âthat the legislature can establish must be such as will secure us a fair interest on our investment.â
âWell, whatâs your standard? Come, letâs hear it. Who is to say whatâs a fair rate? The railroad has its own notions of fairness sometimes.â
âThe laws of the State,â returned S. Behrman, âfix the rate of interest at seven per cent. Thatâs a good enough standard for us. There is no reason, Mr. Harran, why a dollar invested in a railroad should not earn as much as a dollar represented by a promissory noteâseven per cent. By applying your schedule of rates we would not earn a cent; we would be bankrupt.â
âInterest on your investment!â cried Harran, furious. âItâs fine to talk about fair interest. I know and you know that the total earnings of the P. and S. W.âtheir main, branch and leased lines for last yearâwas between nineteen and twenty millions of dollars. Do you mean to say that twenty million dollars is seven per cent. of the original cost of the road?â
S. Behrman spread out his hands, smiling.
âThat was the gross, not the net figureâand how can you tell what was the original cost of the road?â âAh, thatâs just it,â shouted Harran, emphasising each word with a blow of his fist upon his knee, his eyes sparkling, âyou take cursed good care that we donât know anything about the original cost of the road. But we know you are bonded for treble your value; and we know this: that the road COULD have been built for fifty-four thousand dollars per mile and that you SAY it cost you eighty-seven thousand. It makes a difference, S. Behrman, on which of these two figures you are basing your seven per cent.â
âThat all may show obstinacy, Harran,â observed S. Behrman vaguely, âbut it donât show common sense.â
âWe are threshing out old straw, I believe, gentlemen,â remarked Magnus. âThe question was thoroughly sifted in the courts.â
âQuite right,â assented S. Behrman. âThe best way is that the railroad and the farmer understand each other and get along peaceably. We are both dependent on each other. Your ploughs, I believe, Mr. Derrick.â S. Behrman nodded toward the flat cars.
âThey are consigned to me,â admitted Magnus.
âIt looks a trifle like rain,â observed S. Behrman, easing his neck and jowl in his limp collar. âI suppose you will want to begin ploughing next week.â
âPossibly,â said Magnus.
âIâll see that your ploughs are hurried through for you then, Mr. Derrick. We will route them by fast freight for you and it wonât cost you anything extra.â
âWhat do you mean?â demanded Harran. âThe ploughs are here. We have nothing more to do with the railroad. I am going to have my wagons down here this afternoon.â
âI am sorry,â answered S. Behrman, âbut the cars are going north, not, as you thought, coming FROM the north. They have not been to San Francisco yet.â
Magnus made a slight movement of the head as one who remembers a fact hitherto forgotten. But Harran was as yet unenlightened.
âTo San Francisco!â he answered, âwe want them hereâwhat are you talking about?â
âWell, you know, of course, the regulations,â answered S. Behrman. âFreight of this kind coming from the Eastern points into the State must go first to one of our common points and be reshipped from there.â
Harran did remember now, but never before had the matter so struck home. He leaned back in his seat in dumb amazement for the instant. Even Magnus had turned a little pale. Then, abruptly, Harran broke out violent and raging.
âWhat next? My God, why donât you break into our houses at night? Why donât you steal the watch out of my pocket, steal the horses out of the harness, hold us up with a shotgun; yes, âstand and deliver; your money or your life.â Here we bring our ploughs from the East over your lines, but youâre not content with your long-haul rate between Eastern points and Bonneville. You want to get us under your ruinous short-haul rate between Bonneville and San Francisco, AND RETURN. Think of it! Hereâs a load of stuff for Bonneville that canât stop at Bonneville, where it is consigned, but has got to go up to San Francisco first BY WAY OF Bonneville, at forty cents per ton and then be reshipped from San Francisco back to Bonneville again at FIFTY-ONE cents per ton, the short-haul rate. And we have to pay it all or go without. Here are the ploughs right here, in sight of the land they have got to be used on, the season just ready for them, and we canât touch them. Oh,â he exclaimed in deep disgust, âisnât it a pretty mess! Isnât it a farce! the whole dirty business!â
S. Behrman listened to him unmoved, his little eyes blinking under his fat forehead, the gold chain of hollow links clicking against the pearl buttons of his waistcoat as he breathed.
âIt donât do any good to let loose like that, Harran,â he said at length. âI am willing to do what I can for you. Iâll hurry the ploughs through, but I canât change the freight regulation of the road.â
âWhatâs your blackmail for this?â vociferated Harran. âHow much do you want to let us go? How much have we got to pay you to be ALLOWED to use our own ploughsâwhatâs your figure? Come, spit it out.â
âI see you are trying to make me angry, Harran,â returned S. Behrman, âbut you wonât succeed. Better give up trying, my boy. As I said, the best way is to have the railroad and the farmer get along amicably. It is the only way we can do business. Well, sâlong, Governor, I must trot along. Sâlong, Harran.â He took himself off.
But before leaving Guadalajara Magnus dropped into the townâs small grocery store to purchase a box of cigars of a certain Mexican brand, unprocurable elsewhere. Harran remained in the buggy.
While he waited, Dyke appeared at the end of the street, and, seeing Derrickâs younger son, came over to shake hands with him. He explained his affair with the P. and S. W., and asked the young man what he thought of the expected rise in the price of hops.
âHops ought to be a good thing,â Harran told him. âThe crop in Germany and in New York has been a dead failure for the last three years, and so many people have gone out of the business that thereâs likely to be a shortage and a stiff advance in the price. They ought to go to a dollar next year. Sure, hops ought to be a good thing. Howâs the old lady and Sidney, Dyke?â
âWhy, fairly well, thank you, Harran. Theyâre up to Sacramento just now to see my brother. I was thinking of going in with my brother into this hop business. But I had a letter from him this morning. He may not be able to meet me on this proposition. Heâs got other business on hand. If he pulls outâand he probably willâIâll have to go it alone, but Iâll have to borrow. I had thought with his money and mine we would have enough to pull off the affair without mortgaging anything. As it is, I guess Iâll have to see S. Behrman.â
âIâll be cursed if I would!â exclaimed Harran.
âWell, S. Behrman is a screw,â admitted the engineer, âand he is ârailroadâ to his boots; but business is business, and he would have to stand by a contract in black and white, and this chance in hops is too good to let slide. I guess weâll try it on, Harran. I can get a good foreman that knows all about hops just now, and if the deal paysâwell, I want to send Sid to a seminary up in San Francisco.â
âWell, mortgage the crops, but donât mortgage the homestead, Dyke,â said Harran. âAnd, by the way, have you looked up the freight rates on hops?â
âNo, I havenât yet,â answered Dyke, âand I had better be sure of that, hadnât I? I hear that the rate is reasonable, though.â
âYou be sure to have a clear understanding with the railroad first about the rate,â Harran warned him.
When Magnus came out of the grocery store and once more seated himself in the buggy, he said to Harran, âBoy, drive over here to Annixterâs before we start home. I want to ask him to dine with us tonight. Osterman and Broderson are to drop in, I believe, and I
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