“I can’t do it, Frank,” he pleaded, piteously. “I’m in pretty bad in this matter. Mollenhauer’s secretary met the train out at Wilmington just now to warn me against this situation, and Strobik is against it. They know how much money I’ve got outstanding. You or somebody has told them. I can’t go against Mollenhauer. I owe everything I’ve got to him, in a way. He got me this place.”
“Listen, George. Whatever you do at this time, don’t let this political loyalty stuff cloud your judgment. You’re in a very serious position and so am I. If you don’t act for yourself with me now no one is going to act for you—now or later—no one. And later will be too late. I proved that last night when I went to Butler to get help for the two of us. They all know about this business of our street-railway holdings and they want to shake us out and that’s the big and little of it—nothing more and nothing less. It’s a case of dog eat dog in this game and this particular situation and it’s up to us to save ourselves against everybody or go down together, and that’s just what I’m here to tell you. Mollenhauer doesn’t care any more for you to-day than he does for that lamp-post. It isn’t that money you’ve paid out to me that’s worrying him, but who’s getting something for it and what. Well they know that you and I are getting street-railways, don’t you see, and they don’t want us to have them. Once they get those out of our hands they won’t waste another day on you or me. Can’t you see that? Once we’ve lost all we’ve invested, you’re down and so am I—and no one is going to turn a hand for you or me politically or in any other way. I want you to understand that, George, because it’s true. And before you say you won’t or you will do anything because Mollenhauer says so, you want to think over what I have to tell you.”
He was in front of Stener now, looking him directly in the eye and by the kinetic force of his mental way attempting to make Stener take the one step that might save him—Cowperwood—however little in the long run it might do for Stener. And, more interesting still, he did not care. Stener, as he saw him now, was a pawn in whosoever’s hands he happened to be at the time, and despite Mr. Mollenhauer and Mr. Simpson and Mr. Butler he proposed to attempt to keep him in his own hands if possible. And so he stood there looking at him as might a snake at a bird determined to galvanize him into selfish self-interest if possible. But Stener was so frightened that at the moment it looked as though there was little to be done with him. His face was a grayish-blue: his eyelids and eye rings puffy and his hands and lips moist. God, what a hole he was in now!