CHAPTER XXVII – THE UPLIFTING OF HUMANITY
THE following evening Roderick called at the Major’s home, and found a visitor there, a stranger yet very well known to him by reputation. This was no other than the Reverend Stephen Grannon, the travelling parson, of whose fame as a doer of good deeds at the cost of complete self-sacrifice and self-denial, Roderick had often heard.
“Delighted to see you, Roderick,” said the Major. “Come right in. You know, of course, the most noted man in the camp – the man with the saddle bags. What? Never met yet? Well, it is a great pleasure to me to make you two acquainted.”
After cordial greetings had been exchanged Major Hampton continued: “We have just been discussing some of the great problems of humanity. Pardon me, my dear friend, but I wish to say to Mr. Warfield that if I were called upon today to name the greatest humanitarian with whom I am acquainted I certainly should say – the Reverend Stephen Grannon.”
“You do me too much honor,” interposed the parson hastily. “You compliment me far too highly.” Major Hampton went on as if the Reverend Stephen Grannon had made no interruption: “The school of humanitarianism is small in number, but the combined results of their labors directed through the channels of service in the behalf of humanity bear the stamp of greatness. The sincere lover of his fellows recognizes that the poor of this world have borne and are still bearing the burdens of the race. The poor have built all the monuments along the world’s highway of civilization. They have produced all the wealth from the hills and from the soil The poor of the world have endured the hardships of conquering the wilds and erecting outposts on the border of civilization. Indeed they conquer everything except the fetters that bind them and hold them as an asset of great corporate power that is heartless and soulless and indifferent to the privations and sufferings of the individual.”
The Reverend Stephen Grannon gave it as his view that the mission of a humanitarian was not to hinder the world’s progress, nor even to prejudice anyone against the fortune gathering of the rich, but rather to dispell the darkness of injustice and assist the great army of the impoverished to a better understanding of their rights as well as their powers to conquer the evils that have throughout the ages crept into and clung to our civilization.
“Poverty,” he remarked, “is the cause of much misery and often the impelling motive to immorality and crime in many forms. Men often sell and barter their votes and birthrights in this free country to bribe givers – wily politicians – while our girls are not infrequently lured into selling their very souls for ribbons and the gaudiness and shams of the world.”
“What is the cure?” asked Roderick, greatly interested.
“The cure,” responded the preacher, “is the regeneration of mankind through the leavening and uplifting power of the principles taught by the humble humanitarian of Galilee, the great prince of righteousness.”
“Yes,” chimed in Major Hampton, “the Reverend Stephen Grannon has given you the solution for the problem. Add to this a higher education. The more highly educated the individual,” continued the Major, “the greater the crime if they break the law.”
“But,” said Roderick, “this is a free country and we have free schools. Why do not the poor have a better education?”
Reverend Grannon turned quickly to Roderick and replied: “You come with me to the twenty-odd mining camps, Mr. Warfield, surrounding this town of Encampment – come with me up in the hills where there are no schools – see the little children growing up in carelessness because of the impossibility on the part of their fathers and mothers to provide them with school privileges. In the school room the teacher becomes the overseer not alone of their studies but of their morals as well. Let me take you down in the mines,” he continued, speaking with great earnestness, “and see the boys from twelve years to twenty-one years working day after day, many of them never having had school privileges and therefore unable to read or write.”
He paused for just a moment, then resumed: “It brings to my mind what a very wise man once wrote. It was King Solomon, and among many other splendid truths he said: ‘The rich man’s wealth is his strong city; the destruction of the poor is their poverty.’.rdquo;
“Roderick,” said the Major as he lit his meerschaum and blew the smoke towards the ceiling, “my heart is very light tonight, for I have arranged with the assistance of the Reverend Stephen Grannon to help relieve this lamentable situation in those mining camps up in the mountains away from school privileges. I have recently taken the matter up with the county commissioners and have agreed to build twenty schoolhouses. Each schoolhouse will consist of two rooms. One will be for the smaller children during the day and also to serve as a night school for the young men and young women who are employed in manual labor during working hours. The other room is a library sufficiently large and spacious to accommodate the young men of each mining community and thus keep them away from saloons, brothels, and prize ring attractions. One hour each evening will be taken up by a reader and a regular course of entertaining books will be read aloud in a serial way. The books in the library will be loaned out on tickets and the usual library rules observed.”
“Splendid,” said Roderick, “that sounds practical to me.”
“It is practical,” said the Reverend Stephen Grannon, “and thanks to Major Buell Hampton this plan which I have cherished for so many years will soon be put into effect.”
Looking at his watch he turned to the Major and said: “By the way, Major, I have a couple of poor families to visit tonight. I have promised them, and they will be disappointed if I do not come.” He arose as he said this.
“My good friend,” replied Buell Hampton, “I am sorry you cannot remain longer with us, but I would not keep you from your duties.”
The Reverend Stephen Grannon put on his top coat, as the evenings were growing chilly, and after shaking hands took his departure.
When he was gone and the door closed, Major Hampton turned to Roderick and holding up one hand said reverently: “Of such is the kingdom of heaven. In all my lifetime, Roderick, I have never known another such splendid character. I have closely observed his work ever since I came to this camp. Perhaps in his entire lifetime he has not collected fifty dollars in money. He says he does not want money.”
“But he must have money to live on.”
“Above all money considerations,” said the Major, looking into the darkened corner of his living room, “he wants to save souls here on this earth so that he will have more jewels in his crown over yonder – these are his own words. There is not a family in the surrounding country that he is not acquainted with. If there is sickness he is the first one there. Where the greatest poverty abounds you will find him. He goes out and solicits alms for those in distress, but keeps nothing for himself excepting the frailest living. Go through the valley or up in the mountain gorges or still farther up in the mining camps where the snow never melts from the shady side of the log cabins, and you will find this noble character, Reverend Stephen Grannon, doing his good work for the poor – ministering to their wants and endeavoring to lift humanity into higher walks, physically, morally, and spiritually.”
“I am glad you have told me all this,” replied Roderick. “It increases my already high opinion of the parson.”
“He is a veritable shepherd among the people,” continued Major Hampton. “Reverend Grannon is the true flockmaster of Wyoming. The people are frequently unruly, boisterous, intemperate and immoral, yet he treats them with greatest consideration and seeks to persuade and lead them away from their sins and transgressions. Yes, he is a great flockmaster – he is well named The Flockmaster.”
Both were silent for a few moments. Then the Major, as if suddenly remembering something, looked up and said: “He tells me Scotty Meisch is getting along fine over in the Dillon Doublejack printing office.”
“I am glad to hear that,” exclaimed Roderick. “It is good to have saved at least one lad from going the way of those outlaws of Jack Creek. I have never forgotten that ghastly midnight scene – the massacred sheep and the burning herders’ wagons.”
“Well, what can you expect?” asked the Major. “When the social waters are poisoned at the fountain head, the whole course of the stream becomes pernicious. In this state of Wyoming the standard of political decency is not high. The people have no real leaders to look up to. The United States Senator, F. E. Greed, sets a pernicious example to the rising generation. He violates laws in scores of instances because of his greed and grafting proclivities, and his bribed supporters go on year after year supporting him. What the state needs is a leader. High-minded leaders are priceless. Their thoughts and their deeds are the richest legacy to a state or a community. Great leaders are beacon lights kindled upon the mountain peaks of the centuries, illuminating the mental and moral atmosphere of civilization. The history of the world – of a nation, of a state and of a community – is the story of their epochal deeds, while man’s advancement is only the lengthened shadow of their moral, spiritual and temporal examples. Leaders come up from the crowd, from among the poor and the lowly. They are immediately recognized by the great mass of the people and invariably crowned, although sometimes it is a crown of thorns that they are compelled to wear and endure for upholding priceless principles in their endeavor to lead humanity to a higher plane. However,” concluded the Major, “the world is growing better. The nimble-fingered, tilltapping, porch-climbing derelicts in politics and commercialism are becoming unpopular. The reprehensible methods in all avenues of life are being condemned instead of condoned – the goats are being cast out from among the sheep.”
“You interest me very much, Major,” said Roderick. “Your ideals are so high, your aims so decent and right, that it is a pleasure to hear you talk. I am a firm believer,” Roderick went on, “in the justice of the doctrine that all men are created free and equal.”
“It is a sad commentary,” replied Major Hampton, “in this land where liberty is cherished and our Government corner-stoned upon the theory that all men are free and equal, that even the soberest of us are compelled, my dear Roderick, to regard such affirmations as blasphemous. To illustrate: An employee in one of the big manufacturing combinations committed a burglary – almost petty larceny in its smallness – another case of Jean Valjean stealing bread for his children – and yet he was tried before an alleged court of justice and sent to the penitentiary for ten years. The head of the same institution pillaged multiplied millions from the poor in unjust and lawless extortions. When he was caught red-handed in his lawbreaking, instead of sharing a prison cell with the poor man our courts indulgently permitted this great highwayman six months’ time in which to reorganize and have legalized his methods of stealing.”
“Such rank injustice,” exclaimed Roderick, “makes my blood tingle with indignation. It is surely high time a determined crusade was led against the privileged classes.”
The Major made no reply but after a little, looking up from the open grate and turning to Roderick, he asked him if he was aware that the next day was the annual meeting of the stockholders of the Encampment Mine and Smelting Company.
“Oh, is it?” said Roderick. “Some time ago I noticed something in the newspapers about the meeting, but as it was of no particular moment to me I had forgotten it.”
“Yes,” said Major Hampton, “and I guess I will now tell you that I have been holding a secret from you.”
“That so?” exclaimed Roderick questioningly.
“You will remember,” the Major went on, “that I left you in Denver after we made the big ore shipment and that I was away for three or four weeks. Well, I went to New York, employed two or three big brokers down on Wall Street, and commenced buying Encampment Mine and Smelter Company stock on the exchange. Working jointly with a new friend I have discovered, a professional man of finance yet a true friend of humanity, I have absolute control of the stock today.”
“You have?” exclaimed Roderick. “You own a control of the stock in this great smelter and the Ferris-Haggerty mine?”
“Yes, the whole enterprise is virtually in our ownership. Well, something is going to happen tomorrow at the stockholders’ meeting which I fear will not be pleasant to certain individuals. But duty compels me to pursue a course I have mapped out. My chosen work in life is to serve the poor, yet in trying to fulfill this mission I harbor no resentful thoughts against the rich as a class nor do I intend for them any unfair treatment.”
“If the people only knew,” remarked Roderick, softly, “you are without doubt one of the richest men in this part of the country and yet you so honestly prefer the simple life.”
“There are two kinds of rich people,” continued the Major. “One class is arrogant and unfeeling; they hoard money by fair means or foul for money’s sake and for the power it brings. The other class use their wealth not to oppress but to relieve the worthy poor. Personally, Warfield, I do not regard the money which accident has made mine as being in any sense a personal possession. Rather do I hold it as a trust fund. Of course I am grateful. The money enlarges my opportunity to do things for my fellows that I wish to do.”
The Major paused a moment, then resumed: “Do you remember, Roderick, when I first told you, Jim Rankin and the others about my hidden mine that I said there were six men in the world whom I held in highest esteem?”
“I remember well,” assented Roderick.
“Well, five of you were present then – Tom Sun, Boney Earnest, and Grant Jones, with yourself and Jim. For the absent sixth one I specifically reserved a share in my prosperity, although at the time I withheld his name. Now you know it He is the one entitled to most consideration among us all – the Reverend Stephen Grannon.”
“Of course he is,” concurred Roderick, with hearty conviction. “He can do more good in the world than all the rest of us together, yourself excepted, Major.”
“At present, perhaps,” said Buell Hampton. “But let his shining example be an incentive to you all – to us all. Well, in a confidential way, I will tell you, Roderick, that when in New York I also purchased a large block of bonds that yields an income of something like $20,000 per year. This income I have legally turned over with proper writings to the Reverend Stephen Grannon, and already I think you will discover a vast improvement in the mining camps and throughout the valleys among the poor. For Stephen Grannon is a godly man and a true humanitarian.”
“My word, but that’s great – that’s grand!” murmured Roderick with deep enthusiasm. And he gazed at Buell Hampton’s noble soul-lit face admiringly.
The Major rose to his feet – his usual method of intimating that he wished to be alone. Roderick grasped his hand, and would have spoken further, but Buell Hampton interrupted him.
“Say no more, my dear boy. I am glad that you have been interested in what I had to say tonight. The veil was lifted and you saw me as I am – anxious to be of benefit to my fellows. I shall indeed be proud if you find these doctrines not merely acceptable to yourself, but in some degree at least stimulative in your acts toward the worthy poor and lowly as the years come and go.”
As Roderick walked slowly along the street deep in thought over Buell Hampton’s words, he came suddenly upon W. B. Grady and several well dressed strangers at a street corner. The visitors, he surmised, were eastern directors of the big smelting company who had come to Encampment for the stockholders’ meeting on the morrow.
CHAPTER XXVIII – JUSTICE FOR THE WORKERS
THE next morning at ten o’clock, Major Buell
Hampton walked down to the smelter office. He was met at the door of the directors’ room by the general manager, Mr. W. B. Grady. Despite a bold front Grady looked careworn and anxious.
“Hold on there,” he said as the Major started to enter. “What do you want?” He spoke roughly. “This is a meeting of some gentlemen who are interested in the Smelter.”
“Very well,” said the Major. “I came down to attend the stockholders’ meeting.”
“Well, you can’t go in,” said Grady. “Stockholders’ meetings of this company are private. We do not furnish entertainment and gossip for onlookers like a justice of the peace court.”
“That may all be true – I hope it is true, Mr. Grady,” said the Major, and he looked him in the eyes with more of pity than of anger depicted on his face. The crafty manager cringed before the critical inspection.
“I am here strictly on business,” continued Buell Hampton. “I am a stockholder.”
“You a stockholder in our Smelter Company?”
“I have that honor,” replied the Major, tersely. “Or at least I hold powers of attorney from the largest group of stockholders in your company.”
An ashen grey crept into Grady’s face.
“What do you mean?” he faltered. “You are not a shareholder of record on our books.”
“No, but you will find as shareholders of record the names of Charles T. Brown, George Edward Reed, Herbert Levy, Daniel W. Higbee, and a few others about whom I need not bother.”
A new light broke over Grady. He looked more sickly than ever.
“These are recent purchasers of stock,” he said, “in New York and also, if I remember rightly, in Iowa.”
“Precisely, and together these buyers now hold the controlling interest in your company. Here are the legal documents constituting me the attorney for all these men.” He drew a neat little packet of papers from the breast pocket of his coat. “In other words I am these men – I hold the controlling power, although I did not choose to disclose the fact until this morning. Now, will you please let me pass? Thank you.”
If a pistol had been thrust against the ribs of W. B. Grady, he could not have looked more utterly scared. He had stepped aside to let the Major pass and now bluff and bluster changed swiftly to sycophancy.
“All right, Major Hampton,” he said, in his most ingratiating manner. “Walk right in and let me introduce you to some of the other stockholders. Of course, only a few of them are here.”
The Major followed him into the directors’ room and was duly presented.
“This,” said Grady with patronizing suavity, “is an old fellow townsman of ours here in Encampment and a friend of mine. Here, Major, take this chair,” insisted Grady. “You see we are all a happy family together.”
Major Hampton could not but contrast the fawning manner of the general manager before his superiors, the directors of the Company, with his notoriously overbearing and insolent treatment of the workingmen.
“Well,” said the chairman, “fortunately we have a very good manager.”
“Thank you,” said Grady with increased affability.
“For myself, I am pleased and delighted at the general manager’s report which I presume it will be in order now to have read. I think we have all seen it in advance.”
The Major shook his head in dissent but made no comment.
Thereupon the meeting was called to order, and after the preliminaries were concluded Mr. W. B. Grady proceeded to read a rather brief but very interesting annual report.
His report was not only a business summary of a most successful fiscal year, but also abounded with more or less veiled laudations of himself in his capacity of manager.
Attorney Wm. Henry Carlisle, who combined with his legal position a seat on the board of directors, advised that the election of a directorate for the ensuing year was in order. By this time it was known to the other shareholders present that Major Buell Hampton owned or represented a control of the stock. This rather upset the cut-and-dried program.
W. B. Grady, addressing the chairman, said that he presumed Major Buell Hampton would appreciate being elected a member of the board of directors, and if the Company’s attorney, Mr. Carlisle, did not object perhaps it would be well for him to vacate his seat so as to make room for the new incumbent.
Carlisle’s face grew very red at this attempted slight but he said nothing.
Major Buell Hampton arose, and addressing the chairman said: “Since I have acquired control of the stock of this Company, I have decided that Mr. Grady shall not be re-elected as a director. But in the first place I wish to ask of all stockholders present what their intentions are regarding the declaring of a dividend?”
With this he resumed his seat.
By every lineament on Grady’s face one could see that he was furious.
“I presume,” said the chairman, “that it would be proper to follow the suggestion of Mr. Grady, our general manager, and declare a dividend of seventy-two per cent on the capital stock.”
Major Buell Hampton, again addressing the chair, remarked that seventy-two per cent, was certainly a fat dividend. But for himself he had purchased a control of the Company’s stock for the purpose of introducing some innovations in its management, and in order that there might be no misunderstanding he felt it was now proper to present his views. If any of the directors were not in harmony, why, of course, it would be inadvisable for them to stand for re-election to a directorate over which he intended henceforth to exercise a close supervision.
“I now wish to ask the directors of the Company this question,” added the Major. “What about Boney Earnest’s dividend?”
He paused for a reply.
For a moment the stockholders and representatives of stockholders present seemed almost dumfounded. They turned to the manager, Mr. Grady, who answered the Major by saying he did not know that Boney Earnest, the dismissed blast furnace foreman, was a stockholder or had any investment in the concern – “it was all news to him,” he added with a weak attempt at levity.
Major Hampton had remained standing, and by silent consent all waited for him to reply to this statement.
“Yes, gentlemen,” he said quietly, “Boney Earnest may not be a stockholder of record. But all the same he had his all invested in this smelting plant. Day after day, during year after year, he stood before the blast furnace, doing work of a class which few men could endure. It is true he received a daily wage until the date of his dismissal, but he had invested in addition to his daily duties almost a life-time of ripe experience in the particular work he was doing for this concern. In short, he had his all – his strength, his brain and his experience – invested. In these circumstances I object,” continued Major Hampton, “to a dividend of seventy-two per cent. I notice from the manager’s report that he has made ample allowances for betterments, replacements, and surplus, and even with all these very proper provisions, the enormous possible dividend of seventy-two per cent, still remains. An original capital stock of $500,000 and an annual dividend of $360,000, certainly is a magnificent showing.”
Buell Hampton paused and all present clapped their hands gleefully, as if the Major was coming around to their way of thinking.
After silence was restored he proceeded: “Money is worth probably from five per cent, to six per cent, per annum on solid, non-hazardous investments and at least double these figures or more on mining investments which must be regarded as extremely hazardous. It is not, however, worth seventy-two per cent. per annum. Therefore, gentlemen, we will declare a dividend of six per cent, on the capital stock, which will require $30,000. We will then add the capital stock to the pay roll. The pay roll for the last year in round numbers is $1,100,000. The capital stock is $500,000 or a total of both of $1,600,000. We will then declare the remaining $330,000 of earnings into a dividend on the entire $1,600,000 of capital stock and annual pay roll combined, which amounts to a little over twenty per cent. This will give to the shareholders of our company’s stock a little more than a twenty-six per cent, dividend.”
The Major sat down. Consternation was apparent on every countenance.
“Major,” said one of the eastern directors, “may I ask you what would happen and what you would do in carrying out your altruistic dream if the earnings did not amount to even six per cent, on the money actually invested?”
The Major arose again and with great politeness replied: “Probably we would not declare a dividend. If we had but $30,000 that could be legitimately applied to dividend purposes, the amount would belong to the stockholders. But anything above this preferred dividend to the shareholders should be declared on the annual pay roll combined with and added to the capital stock of the company, both classes of investors participating in the surplus over and above six per cent, preferred dividend. The question with me,” added the Major, “is this? How many of you directors are in sympathy with the suggestion I have made?”
There came no answer, and he continued: “A while ago I expressed myself against your manager for a position on the directorate. I always have a reason for my decisions. It has come to me,” continued the Major, “that while the original cost of this plant may have been $500,000 yet by the wicked manipulation of the ‘system’ the original shareholders were completely frozen out – legally robbed if you please, of their investment and it is quite probable the Pennsylvania crowd, the present owners or at least those who were the owners before I purchased a control, paid very little in real money but much in duplicity and ripened experience in the ways of the fox and the jackal. I have learned on excellent authority that Mr. W. B. Grady, by stealth and cunning, secured the underlying bonds from one of the former builders of this great plant, and robbed him and left him penniless in his old age. Unless other means of restitution be devised, the reimbursing of those stolen sums out of my private purse will be one of my first duties and one of my greatest pleasures.”
Grady rose, his face flushed with passion. But Buell Hampton waved him down with his hand and calmly proceeded: “I will state another innovation. There are seven directors who control the destinies of this company. I now insist that the company’s attorney shall be instructed to have the by-laws so amended that the head of each department, beginning at the mine where we extract the ore, then the tramway which carries the ore to the smelter and all the various departments in the smelter including the converter – shall be elected annually by the workers themselves in each of the seven departments. In this way there will be seven foremen; and these seven foremen shall be officially recognized by the amended by-laws of this company as an advisory board of directors, entitled to sit and vote with the regular directors at each monthly meeting and likewise with the stockholders in their annual meeting.”
Had a bomb-shell been thrown into the stockholders’ meeting greater consternation could not have been evinced’. Finally Attorney Carlisle moved that an adjournment be taken until ten o’clock the next day, at which time the stockholders would re-assemble and further consider the unexpected and doubtless vital questions now under consideration. The motion prevailed.
Of course the entire matter hinged first of all upon the election of a directorate. During the adjournment Attorney Carlisle, peeved at Grady’s readiness to drop him from the directorate, called on Major Hampton and assured him he was in accord with the views he had expressed and that his every suggestion could be legally complied with by amending the by-laws.
Buell Hampton, however, did not take the hint implied. He was courteous but firm. The old régime had to go – the management must be changed, lock, stock and barrel. Therefore there could be no further utilization of Mr. Carlisle’s services as attorney for the company. Baffled and discomfited the lawyer withdrew. He was full of indignation, not against Major Hampton, but against Grady, for he had warned the latter against selling a certain block of stock to part with which had jeopardized control of the corporation. But Grady, in need of money, had replied that there was no risk, the buying being sporadic and the existing directorate in high favor with the stockholders because of its ability and readiness to vote big dividends.
Grady had little dreamed that already considerable blocks of the stock had passed, under various names, into the control of the Keokuk banker, Allen Miller, to whom he had some time before mortgaged his Mine and Smelter Company bonds, and who had reasons of his own for displacing Grady and crippling him still more badly in his finances. Nor had he sensed the danger that the scattered sales of stock in the East had been in reality for a single buyer, Major Buell Hampton. Therefore he had been caught quite unprepared for the combination of forces that was able now to throw him down and out at the first meeting of stockholders. For once the fox had slept and had been caught napping in the short grass, away from the tall timber.
Carlisle had of late been too busy “doing politics,” and had allowed matters to drift even though he had seen possible rocks ahead. Now the two old-time confederates were blaming each other – Carlisle denouncing Grady for parting with the stock control, Grady upbraiding Carlisle for neglect in not having taken steps to discover who were the real buyers of the shares being gradually transferred on the company’s stock books. The blow, however, had fallen, and there was no means of blocking the transfer of power into new hands.
When the stockholders’ meeting reconvened the following morning, Major Buell Hampton submitted the names of five men whom he desired on the directorate. They were – Roderick Warfield, Grant Jones, Boney Earnest and himself, together with Ben Bragdon, who would also take up the duties of attorney for the company. This left only a couple of places to be filled by the eastern stockholders. Two names from among the old directors were offered and accepted. Indeed the selection of directors became a unanimous affair, for seeing themselves utterly defeated both Grady and Carlisle, glaring at each other, had left the room.