Chapter 201: Whose Youth Ain’t Scarred

Early March.

The sky over Sterling City hung low and gray, and though the weather had warmed a little, it was still far from mild.

Anyone stepping out of doors still had to bundle up in a thick wool greatcoat.

Rising early was good for a body’s health, and it also meant fewer wagons and hacks crowding the streets.

Ellie Jarvis had spent the whole night turning over advertising schemes in her head and had ended up not sleeping a wink.

She tossed and turned, dozing off and jerking awake again, round and round in a restless circle.

That was how she was made. Whenever too many worries crowded her mind, her sleep went plainly to pieces.

And she hadn’t only woken herself. She’d roused Blanche Whitney too, who was still sunk deep in slumber, eyes shut tight and bargaining with the Sandman for five more minutes.

The two of them were on their way to find Autumn Carrow.

Autumn was now in charge of working up every new flavor for Bobo’s Soda Parlor.

Even so, whenever she had a spare hour, she still went to lend a hand at the soda parlor outside the college gates.

It was nothing like the cramped little soda stand they used to run. The present parlor was handsomely fitted out and still kept a bookish, genteel air about it.

On the left stood a marble soda counter with its gleaming nickel spigots, and on the right, two rows of wooden seats.

At the back were two long reading tables, and the walls all around were lined with little bookshelves.

Wasn’t it just the place for college students or young sweethearts to order two sodas and sit reading together?

Every Bobo’s parlor was fitted out in much the same style.

Youthful, and a little bit artistic.

When Blanche drove over in her white Brewster road gig with its matched pair of trotters, Autumn was still inside greeting customers.

She was something of a celebrity at the college these days: once the Plain-Folks Belle, now the young lady everybody held up as a model of enterprise.

It seemed as though Bobo’s parlors had sprung up everywhere overnight.

All manner of inspiring stories about her were going the rounds of the college.

Once Ellie had arrived and explained why she’d come, she took out a notebook. She meant to write down Autumn’s love story in hopes of catching a spark of inspiration.

But who’d have guessed it? Autumn shook her head. After thinking it over seriously for a moment, she said, “My love story might just be that there wasn’t any love at all. And as for the regrets of youth, I reckon that’s it too!”

Ellie was taken aback. She felt as though she’d caught hold of something, only to have it flicker away the next instant.

The regret of love is never meeting it. The regret of youth is never getting the chance at a burning romance.

That was it!

Why did she have to tie everything to love? A youth without love still had plenty worth talking about.

Ellie promptly set about gathering material. Over the past couple of years, one advertising line had become especially popular.

It came from a famous patent-medicine man: “I vouch for myself.”

Autumn could do the same.

Ellie had to work out the catchline that suited Bobo’s best.

After several days of thinking, she came up with a few lines of self-vouching copy that were rather good.

Once Caleb Walker had approved the wording, they immediately set about making a portrait of Autumn for her own advertising notice, with her lines printed beneath it.

By the time everything was ready, Bobo’s new soda glasses and paper sleeves had been designed as well.

Once Ellie had the portrait and its lines run in the newspapers and pasted up on the Exchange Arcade picture board, it made a splash, though not a big one.

The main trouble was that folks outside Sterling City didn’t know much about Bobo’s.

And Autumn’s own name didn’t carry far enough.

At this point, Queen Mae had to make her entrance.

How could anyone say this woman wasn’t a queen?

When it came to advertising and to beauty both, she had a truly firm grip.

Inside the Sterling City depot.

Mae Darling, in smoked spectacles, carried a little bag on her shoulder.

She stood tall, a beauty without equal.

Her arrival seemed to have been let slip on purpose, for countless admirers and gossip-sheet men were waiting outside the station.

Mae strode boldly out, holding a very conspicuous glass of Bobo’s soda in her hand.

When the newspapermen crowded round her, she even shifted the glass on purpose, setting it just in front of her ample bosom.

The angle was perfect.

“Mae Darling! Mae Darling!”

Crowds of admirers chased after her.

Her Brewster brougham waited outside the depot. She was in no hurry to climb in, but turned to her admirers and said warmly, “Thank you all for your trouble. I’m treating every one of you to the first glass of Bobo’s soda this spring.”

And so the advertisement went out without the least effort.

“Mae Darling Arrives at Sterling Depot, Treats All Her Admirers to Bobo’s Soda.”

The item shot straight into the gossip columns.

Such was the pull of a star of the very first rank. It was beyond imagining.

With Mae cooperating so flawlessly, Bobo’s fame spread farther and farther beyond Sterling City.

Then Ellie had another fine idea. When it came to advertising, it seemed no concern in the country could match Lyle Jennison’s Short Line.

And the Short Line’s passenger clubs, where riders sent in letters and ballots, had become all the rage over the past two years.

Ellie launched a contest collecting stories about the regrets of youth.

Its main theme was sentimental youth. To set the town talking quickly, she even went to Caleb to ask for money for it.

The arrangement was this: once a submission was chosen by Bobo’s, its writer would be paid a reward of twenty dollars outright.

Every day, one entry from all the submissions would be chosen and printed on Bobo’s glasses and paper sleeves.

There were plenty of advantages to it, chief among them giving the young customers they hoped to win a sense of taking part.

More important still, it tied Bobo’s even more closely to the regrets of youth and to love.

Caleb thought the idea wasn’t bad, only that twenty dollars was too little. The sum was hardly exciting.

He raised it straight to two hundred dollars.

And three winners would be chosen every day.

Ellie was thrilled. Having money truly did make things happen.

She quickly set up submission boxes in every parlor and a contest board at the Exchange Arcade.

Since it was new, hardly anybody took part.

Caleb looked at the scattered handful of entries and saw it plainly wasn’t enough.

He mentioned it to Mae. Nobody had to teach her what to do.

Once she knew how much she stood to earn, she was keener than anyone.

On the eighth of March,

Mae shared a few of her own youthful experiences on Bobo’s contest board.

She even worked them into a slogan for Bobo’s.

“Whose youth ain’t got its scars, and whose youth wasn’t reckless?”

Growing up is hard, and love is full of sorrow.

A true talent, no doubt about it.

With Mae taking part, more than a hundred thousand people crowded round Bobo’s contest.

How the prizes were to be claimed was posted plain for all to read.

To make sure it was fair, Caleb had Ellie choose the top three entries each day by public ballot, with ballot boxes set out in every parlor.

Then the company’s treasurer would get in touch with the writers directly to pay them.

The receipts for payment would be pinned up on the board.

Of course, the particulars of names and bank accounts would be kept private.

The young folks of this generation surely knew how to have fun.

Notes began piling up beneath the board at the Exchange Arcade.

“Great jumping Jehoshaphat, my entry actually won! Guess how old she is?”

“Somebody really got on the list?”

“Sure did, but she’s awful young, only eleven, so her mother had to collect the money at the bank for her. Her ma was generous and rewarded her with twenty cents, ha ha.”

“Are you trying to make me die laughing? What kind of fine copy can an eleven-year-old girl write?”

“Don’t you look down on her. Let me show you what won.”

“I’m willful, I’m wild, I call the shots in my own youth, and none of you can nag me.”

“???”

“That foolishness actually won?”

“Yep, a whole herd of primary and grammar school kids stuffed the ballot boxes for it.”

“Didn’t you see the twelve thousand ballots beside it? That’s what she wrote.”

“All of a sudden I’m inspired.”

“I do fine, I do grand, my work’s top of the heap in all the land.”

“Boys, I’m counting on you.”

“You’re a blamed genius.”

“To the gent above: I don’t buy anything but your foolishness.”

“Boys, let’s push him up.”

And sure enough, a crowd of folks started frantically casting ballots for his entry. Just as he was about to break into the top three, he was knocked back down by a line from a woman’s-rights girl.

“I’m young, I’m pretty, I earn my own money to spoil my own dog. What do I need a smelly man for?”

“Blast it, are these women picking a fight with us or what? Waving a ‘no need for men’ banner, no less.”

“Without men, how are they going to have any fun?”

“Can they really satisfy themselves?”

Whatever folks thought, Bobo’s contest was the talk of the town.

A small outlay had bought a great deal of advertising.

Afterward, Bobo’s would print the winning lines on its glasses and paper sleeves.

As the talk about Bobo’s grew hotter, business in the parlors themselves soared.

In Sterling City, countless people were green with envy.

Sunburst promptly announced that Bobo’s would begin selling agency parlors in the Sterling City district.

After that, they put in twenty thousand dollars outright to open flagship parlors all at once in Riverport, Pueblo Springs, Bay City and elsewhere.

Those flagship parlors would draw agency parlors into the surrounding markets.

Everything was moving amazingly fast.

Bobo’s first agency meeting in Sterling City, astonishingly, drew more than five hundred people.

The terms for an agency were not few.

First came an agency fee of two hundred dollars. Then the fitting out, the training of staff, the recipes and know-how and so on would all be supplied directly by the head office.

Opening a Bobo’s flagship parlor took an outlay of around eight hundred dollars.

An agency parlor would take between one thousand and twelve hundred.

Rents in the four great cities were high, to say nothing of the price of taking over a storefront.

It might seem a hefty sum, but mind you, Bobo’s had the mighty backing of Mae Darling.

And it was the hottest thing in every newspaper and picture weekly.

Put your money in a parlor everybody’s talking about, and you’d never have to fret about custom.

On the first day of the agency meeting, they took in more than twelve thousand dollars in agency fees.

The main profit would come later, from running the parlors.

* * *

Caleb watched Bobo’s grow at a gallop and then left it mostly alone.

In mid-March, his great market house, Sunburst Department Stores, held its grand opening.

With nearly two million dollars sunk into it, each store covered thirty to forty thousand square feet.

Besides everyday goods, there was also a huge fresh-food hall carrying every kind of provision.

Beyond everyday groceries, there were oysters and fish shipped on ice by rail.

Sunburst was no small general store. It had a hardware and lamp department, a clothing department, and everything else a household could want.

The heart of the business was still one thing: good quality at low prices.

Costs had to be out in the open. That was a lesson learned from Pembroke’s of Ohio.

They would print the cost price right on the price tickets.

Why not let customers see plain as day how much they were being charged for each thing?

More than that, Caleb set one hard and fast rule for Sunburst.

On every item, the markup must not exceed twenty-five percent of the selling price.

Take a bottle of spring water that generally cost a penny to buy in and sold for two cents.

That was a markup of fifty percent, far too high.

He set an overall limit on markup chiefly to build a truly cheap and thrifty great emporium.

A Sunburst Department Store, with its thousands of different goods, could make a little here and a little there.

Wouldn’t the profits naturally add up high?

To keep a true grip on the quality of the goods, he even set a rule no emporium had ever had before.

Any purchase could be returned within three days, no reason asked.

That was a lesson learned from the mail-order houses.

Another key point was to stop rot from the inside.

Let the customers themselves put the goods to the test.

If some item came back too often and its cost price wasn’t low, there was no doubt something was crooked in the buying.

Using the real experience of customers to prove the quality of the goods.

He reckoned that was the surest method.

It would cost some losses, but the benefits plainly outweighed them.

In the age of rail and wire, the old way of shopping had to be improved on every side.

Once you had a grip on quality and price, most folks would actually rather shop in a store with their own eyes and hands.

The chief reason fewer people shopped in stores was that nothing was out in the open.

They were afraid of being fleeced.

He’d often noticed, for instance, that the same garment could be had from a mail-order catalog for twelve or fourteen cents, while in a shop it would cost twenty or forty.

Before long, everybody had taken to buying by catalog.

Who still went to the shops?

Reasoning backward from the result, he had to make sure Sunburst Department Stores were well run.

The first thing to get a grip on was keeping prices out in the open.

Next, cut the markup on the goods.

Win customers’ trust with prices lower even than the catalogs.

In time, his Sunburst Department Stores would naturally never want for custom.

On the day Sunburst Department Stores opened, Lily Hayes, who had hurried back especially, cut the ribbon.

She was plainly dressed, so as not to steal the stores’ thunder.

Being newly opened, there weren’t many problems to be found yet, but Caleb had set the standards.

So long as they were strictly kept, he believed business would not go too badly in the days to come.

Chapter 202: Five Percent for the Queen

March was a busy month.

Caleb not only had to see to spreading Bobo’s Soda Parlor far and wide, he also had to oversee the grand opening of Sunburst Department Stores.

Cloudwater’s yearly meeting, which ought to have been held earlier, had ended up put off until the twentieth of March.

His wife, Clara, had taken the four hundred thousand dollars she had to spare and bought the buildings of three large Cloudwater clubhouses outright.

And with that, her funds were more or less spent.

This year, Caleb’s own capital went mainly into Sunburst Department Stores.

Clara’s went chiefly into buying up Cloudwater’s clubhouses.

If you did the sums, the family’s holdings in business property had come close to forty million dollars.

That was still a long way from the two hundred million he’d set as the mark for entering the ranks of the truly, fabulously rich.

Only once the family’s fortune crossed that mark would he consider bigger and riskier ventures.

As for this year, the Fat Lamb and Bobo’s were pushing hard into markets across the whole country.

Once twenty-five Cloudwater parlors had opened and filled up the Sterling City market, the first class of apprentices from the Cloudwater Academy would graduate and go off to open up the Bay City market.

As for Rising Sun, it had already spun off two new lines from its original pattern.

These were the neighborhood Rising Sun Fruit stores and the all-round Rising Sun Fresh Market.

At present, both were steadily spreading into markets beyond Sterling City.

Besides all that, Rising Star, now that it had Mae Darling on board, had reached a valuation of ten million dollars.

Tabitha Lane’s Red Bay Capital had led the investment.

The first block of shares sold, a mere ten percent, had fetched a million dollars in capital.

The two sides had done business together in all sorts of trades, and so far it had gone very well.

At this point, Rising Star had also begun the process of listing on the Exchange.

There was no hurry. Once “Charlie Lott’s Troubles,” which he’d backed last year, opened, so long as it took in over two million dollars at the box office, there’d be nothing wrong with the accounts Rising Star needed to go on the Exchange, and steady yearly profits of over a million dollars would be guaranteed.

The main point of listing Rising Star was to extend its influence further across the trade.

Consider this: the leading concern in the theatrical business, the Hartley Brothers Theatrical Trust, was worth more than a hundred and twenty million dollars on the Exchange this year.

If he meant to earn that kind of money from profits alone, it would take at least a hundred years, even with the Golden Ledger.

Far better to push Rising Star onto the Exchange now and reap an enormous return directly.

“Here, sign this one too!”

Just as his dealings with Tabitha Lane had gone pleasantly, his partnership with Mae Darling had gone quite well too.

From Cloudwater at the very start to Bobo’s now, the woman had proven she could turn her hand to advertising and a great many other departments besides.

The contract he offered her was the same one Lily Hayes had signed.

Mae glanced it over and firmly signed her name in a neat, upright hand.

Without Tabitha’s investment, Rising Star would have been nothing but an empty shell.

But with her money in, it was an entirely different story. Rising Star was now genuinely worth ten million dollars.

So his willingness to give Mae an option on five percent of the shares was undeniably generous.

True, those shares could only be cashed in in 1885.

Who could say whether Rising Star would still be standing by then, or would have vanished altogether? But it was still something to be glad of.

It was the highest recognition of her personal worth.

Caleb said, “Good. Now that you’ve signed this contract, we’re truly one family. Rising Star should go onto the Exchange in ‘76, valued at twenty million dollars at the very least. If it becomes the leader of the trade within ten years, you, Mae Darling, will surely walk away covered in glory.”

“Twenty million? I think you’re dreaming!”

Mae greatly admired his skill at running the old solid trades, but Rising Star? It was really just the most idle company of the first rank in the whole business.

And he talked about it becoming the leader of the trade?

Did he think she believed a single word of it?

It was lonely being a master.

No, that wasn’t right.

It was Grandpa Golden Ledger who was lonely.

So long as the Golden Ledger didn’t change, Rising Star would always be a company that never lost a cent.

What was so strange about becoming number one?

Caleb couldn’t be bothered to argue with her on the point. Instead he thanked her. “These past days, I really do appreciate you taking it on yourself to promote Sunburst Department Stores.”

Apart from Lily Hayes cutting the ribbon on opening day, Mae had actually gone shopping at Sunburst herself for several days afterward and arranged for the papers to cover it plentifully.

That had brought Sunburst Department Stores a great deal of custom from the very start.

It had truly been thoughtful of her.

Before “Flora of the Crimson Peaks” opened, Lily’s fame had been no match for Mae’s.

“Don’t just thank me with words. When are you going to back a grand spectacle for me?”

Mae, already without equal in the touring-play business, had now set her heart on becoming a celebrated leading lady of the great spectacles.

Her work in grand spectacles these past few years had turned a good profit, though the notices had been middling at best.

What use were good notices to the backers? Making money was the true mark of success.

“Arranging a spectacle is no problem, and neither is the backing. So long as the project’s right, I’ll put in two hundred thousand dollars without blinking.”

Of course, the right project meant one that made money.

If it made money, there was no reason not to back it.

And if it didn’t, there was no point even thinking about it.

He wasn’t going to go looking for projects himself. That was Mae’s job.

Grand spectacles were even more treacherous than touring plays. He’d worked with quite a few companies by now.

The only one that had made money so far was “Charlie Lott’s Troubles.”

There hadn’t been another money-maker yet. It remained to be seen whether Mae could find him a few that would pay.

Now that Rising Star had reached a valuation of ten million dollars, the most bewildered person of all was his secretary, Blanche Whitney.

She knew better than anyone how idle the work there was.

Chapter 203: A Bottomless Pit

So Rising Star, which went fishing one day and lay about in the sun for the next seven, had somehow been valued at ten million dollars?

Folks, who would believe that?

Whatever Rising Star’s idle staff thought about it, it was a fact nailed down tight that Rising Star had grown into one of the leading concerns in the touring-play business.

Next, it was time to charge headfirst into the world of grand spectacles.

If you wanted to know the difference between the two, you had only to compare them.

A theatrical company that did nothing but touring plays was valued at a few tens of millions of dollars at the very most.

Grand spectacles were another story. A concern like the Hartley Brothers Theatrical Trust could be worth as much as a hundred and twenty million.

That was the difference.

So Rising Star had to become a spectacle company of the very first rank before it could hope for a valuation of many tens of millions.

Keep at it, a step at a time.

Two days later, Mae Darling came in all smiles with a spectacle.

The script looked rather good, and the story was quite interesting.

But after a quick appraisal from Grandpa Golden Ledger, the return came out to a whopping thirty percent.

What did that mean?

It meant if you put in two million dollars, you’d get back only six hundred thousand, principal included.

Without another word, Caleb chased her out.

Mae was not pleased.

Another day went by, and she came back with yet another spectacle.

It was another swashbuckler.

The leading man was a very famous swashbuckling actor, and she would play the leading lady.

“Caleb Walker, you’re going to back this one, aren’t you?”

Caleb checked with the Golden Ledger and held his forehead in despair.

Worse still.

A return of ten percent, principal included.

Put in two million, and you’d get back two hundred thousand, just about enough for a pair of drawers.

A consolation prize, he supposed.

“Mae Darling, I’m honestly starting to suspect you’re a spy sent over by our rivals.”

What kind of taste was this?

Couldn’t she be dependable, like Lily Hayes?

Mae had no Golden Ledger. How could she know whether these spectacles would make money or lose it once they were put on?

Caleb turned her proposals down one after another.

That made Mae very angry.

But her anger did no good. The money was in Caleb’s hands, and if he didn’t want to back something, no amount of coaxing would move him.

He had come to see it plainly.

Mae was quite good at touring plays, but her eye for grand spectacles was downright dreadful.

Every single one she picked out would never make a cent.

A bottomless pit!

After he’d turned her down three times running, Mae decided he was doing it on purpose and turned into a regular chatterbox.

When she saw him drinking tea:

“Caleb Walker, what’s the matter with you?”

When she saw him eating:

“Caleb Walker, eating so much, when are you going to back my grand spectacle?”

When she ran into him heading for the privy:

“Huh, Caleb Walker, you actually come here to do your business yourself?”

She was nagging him half to death.

It seemed counting on her to pick spectacles was absolutely out of the question. He’d better pick one out for her himself when the chance came.

Rising Star’s rule: absolutely no money-losing projects.

To steer clear of Mae, he simply stopped going to Rising Star.

He’d wait until there were some spectacles worth considering.

With the million dollars from selling Rising Star’s shares in hand, Caleb immediately decided to put it into another Sunburst Department Store.

The goal of opening six stores in Sterling City this year hadn’t changed.

By putting money into one more now, Annie and the others would have one more dependable goose laying golden eggs in the years to come.

Cloudwater’s yearly meeting was held as planned on the twentieth of March.

This year, Cloudwater’s main goal was to firm up its foundations and train a crop of people who could open up new markets in the future.

In June of next year, the first class of Cloudwater’s two-year apprentice beauticians would graduate.

According to his plan, they’d put six hundred thousand to a million dollars into Bay City, open a head office there, and then set up twenty-five to thirty Cloudwater parlors.

The money was expected to go in around the end of 1875. There was no hurry for now.

Even so, he announced some fine news at this year’s meeting: they planned to set aside sixty thousand dollars every year to establish a family relief fund for the company.

Any Cloudwater employee whose parents, husband or wife, or children fell seriously ill could apply to the fund.

It was to prevent that miserable situation in which one person’s illness dragged a whole family back into poverty.

Apart from parents, husbands and wives, and children, others such as grandparents could not apply.

Old age naturally brought more illness. He could only look after the closest kin of the thousands of people who worked for him.

It could fairly be called a concern with a conscience.

Sixty thousand dollars wasn’t a great deal, but it earned him more than nine hundred Gratitude Points from his staff.

It was an unexpected joy.

It looked as if he could bring his body age down to twenty-eight.

Every middle-aged man longs for the days when he could make his wife cry out just by standing up.

Since Cloudwater had hosted the Splendid Night Gala last year, its standing in Sterling City had risen considerably.

A great many top stars were willing to pay out of their own pockets for its services.

Mae Darling had even secretly bought a card worth three thousand nine hundred sixty dollars for the care of her bosom.

She’d spent over two thousand on her backside, and naturally her face hadn’t been left out either.

Cloudwater used only the finest preparations from Paris and London.

Of course, the results were excellent.

What’s more, the house-call service was now exceptionally good.

It had also let him build up a good many connections.

As March drew to a close, the renovation of the courtyard mansion on Old Mint Lane was nearly finished.

The newly rebuilt mansion was beyond comparison with what it had been. It felt entirely different.

A few small details were still to be finished, and after that it would need two months of airing out before it was fit to live in.

That was mainly so the children wouldn’t breathe in any fumes.

From purchase to renovation, the house had cost the family six hundred thousand dollars in all.

You can imagine how it looked.

The Presidents’ Class was scheduled for the last few days of March.

There was always a class gathering the evening before each course began, organized by the students themselves.

This time the job had fallen to a classmate in the travel business.

Chapter 204: A Snake Swallowing an Elephant

The Presidents’ Class had over twenty students, gathered from every corner of the country.

Every one of them boasted considerable learning and considerable wealth.

Most remarkable of all was Paula Hunt. She was known in class simply for tagging along, and yet she had actually landed herself a tycoon.

A land baron of the very first rank, no less.

A good many in the class found it odd. The woman had seemed to take the Presidents’ Class for no other purpose than catching herself a rich husband.

Now she had actually caught one. He might be a few decades her senior, but nobody could deny the man carried tremendous weight in the business world. It was impressive.

Even Tabitha Lane had to address her man respectfully as an elder when they met.

Nobody else in the class had reached quite that level.

Walter Yancey’s father came close, though.

It had nothing to do with how much money one had. It was the sheer standing in society that counted.

There was no comparing them.

With such a mighty giant of business at her side, no wonder her voice had grown louder of late.

How did the saying go again?

“Men conquer the world of business to bed the world’s beauties.”

“Women conquer men to win the world and a career.”

Wasn’t Paula Hunt a textbook case?

Even Tabitha looked at her with a strange gleam in her eye.

“Old Walker, that ten-million-dollar valuation on your Rising Star has really had me on pins and needles.”

Tabitha spoke frankly. Rising Star made money, but it seemed to owe more to luck than anything else.

Getting Mae Darling on board had certainly raised its standing a great deal.

But a ten-million-dollar valuation still seemed a stretch.

Her decision to invest had rested chiefly on trust between them, especially since Caleb himself was in no way short of cash.

Hadn’t she seen Sunburst Department Stores opening one after another across Sterling City?

It was the people who weren’t short of cash who found it easiest to come by.

If you were desperate for money, others could easily lead you around by the nose.

Neither the Fat Lamb nor Bobo’s was fundamentally short of cash.

“Ten million is nothing. I’d still count you a friend even if I didn’t push it to a hundred and sixty million,” Caleb said, patting her shoulder. Tabitha, this woman of the elite, would have been a lady general leading armies in olden times.

In these modern times, she was a queen of capital who could hold her own territory.

“You wish. But let me tell you something on the quiet. There’s going to be a big move on the Exchange.”

“What big move? Be more particular!”

“It involves the biggest land company in the country.”

Tabitha explained, “That land company has been listed on the Exchange for years, and its shares have stayed stubbornly low. Now a big man from the Gulf Coast merchants’ association has set his eye on it. He means to lay siege to it right on the Exchange and buy control.”

The biggest land company in the country.

That had to be the Vanguard Land Company, didn’t it?

A giant of the market valued at nearly two hundred million dollars. Who would even dare think of going after it?

Never mind trying to gather up the shares of small investors and minority shareholders on the open market to pull off a snake swallowing an elephant.

Well, it sounded like an interesting plan. Whether it could be carried out remained to be seen.

Caleb had never really dabbled in shares.

Hearing this news, he knew that whatever the plan to take over Vanguard, it could never work without spending tens of millions of dollars.

Pouring that much money into buying shares was bound to send Vanguard shares soaring.

In fact, they were already climbing. The market wasn’t stupid.

With a big player quietly gathering up shares, the price was bound to rise.

Maybe he’d put in a hundred thousand dollars or so just to enjoy the show.

Getting any more than that, the way things stood now, might be difficult.

* * *

The warm sun of April.

The breeze wasn’t dry, and the weather was just right.

After finishing a three-day session of the Presidents’ Class, Caleb had nothing pressing to do. He took a little stool out to his backyard and sat down with a few big wooden boards, some little nails and a small hammer in hand.

He was in high spirits, because his daughter Joy had just started calling him “Papa.”

As a father, he wanted to make her a darling little wooden wagon.

One that might be a bit hard on the seat.

No matter. Without a little discomfort in childhood, she’d never be ready for hardship once she was grown.

After all, that was all the family could afford.

He hammered away, every stroke brimming with fatherly love.

What was a little discomfort to a small backside?

He and his wife were usually busy, and since his papa had just become mayor this year, his mother, Martha, simply had no time to come over.

These days the one chiefly looking after Joy was Margaret Sutton.

A grandmother looking after her granddaughter, only natural.

Her aunt Winnie often took her out to play as well.

Joy could toddle a few steps now. She giggled her way toward him, and just as she got near, she fell flat on her face.

She was about to cry when she noticed the grass didn’t taste good at all, so she fiddled with it a little.

Once the grass was out of the way and she felt comfortable, she began to cry, louder and louder, bit by bit.

Even at her age, the little moppet knew the child who doesn’t cry doesn’t get fed.

Caleb picked her up. After a couple of sobs, she started laughing again when he gave her a stick of peppermint candy.

Chapter 205: Even the Scrubwoman Gets Rich

After setting the little stinker down, Caleb fetched a small stool for her to sit on beside him.

She behaved herself and watched her papa build her a little wagon.

The little stinker was so happy there was no comparing it.

But her happiness didn’t last long. Her little face fell, and without a word, Margaret Sutton carried her inside to change her diaper.

She’d done her business again, and it stank to high heaven.

That was the one trouble with the little stinker. The rest of the time, she was very sweet.

When Margaret came back carrying her, she said, “Caleb, do you really need to make that thing? Why not just buy one!”

Anything bought in a shop was sure to be better than what he could make.

Caleb wouldn’t admit it. “It’s different. When we were little, our folks made things for us by hand. We never bought any big toys.”

Fine. Margaret couldn’t be bothered to argue.

She had plenty of serious business of her own to see to.

Since last year, the Exchange had been booming.

If you had to sum up the Exchange of the past two years in a single phrase, it would be “even the scrubwoman can get rich without trying.”

What exactly was behind it?

Even Caleb himself wasn’t clear on that, but Margaret had taken up buying shares last year.

The family had some savings to begin with.

From last year to this, their savings had risen from a little over a thousand dollars to nearly eighteen hundred.

Close to doubled.

Anyone who has dabbled in shares knows a rise of twenty percent in a year is already amazing.

To say nothing of everything shooting up across the board the way it was now.

Apart from minding the child, Margaret spent her days poring over the share quotations in the evening papers and the broker’s circulars.

Or else she was trading notes with the other ladies of the family, sharing what she’d learned from her buying and selling.

When the market’s good, everybody’s a wizard of the Exchange.

But the moment the market turns, everybody’s a jinx.

The market was running extremely well right now.

Even Margaret, who hadn’t much schooling, could make shrewd remarks about shares.

That showed how good the market was.

By rough count, since the start of the year, an average of four thousand new accounts had been opened at the brokers’ offices every week.

That was a huge number. Mind you, country folk, who made up the greatest share of the people, were the least likely to buy shares.

It was mostly easygoing middle-aged and old town folk, living on their pensions and rents, who liked that sort of thing.

Of course, trading in town lots was another popular pastime.

Four thousand new accounts a week in a territory this size meant nearly half the townsfolk were in on it.

“With the Exchange doing so well, Caleb, why don’t you try your hand at it too?” Margaret thought it paid quite handsomely.

“I did. I bought a hundred thousand dollars’ worth of Vanguard shares.”

“You bought Vanguard shares?”

Margaret was astonished. Her son-in-law had quietly gone into the market with a hundred thousand dollars.

She’d never seen him hunched over the quotations, studying them.

That was the difference between small investors and big ones. Small investors watched the market like hawks every day.

Big investors threw in a few thousand, or even a few million, and then waited a year or two.

They didn’t have time to watch it every day.

Margaret asked him, “Have you got some inside word on it?”

“A little. Not much.”

Caleb was busy concentrating on building the little wagon for the little stinker.

Margaret watched how easy he was about it, as though putting in a hundred thousand dollars was no great matter to him.

But her son-in-law was a different man these days. A little tip from him was sure not to be wrong.

Margaret took out her notepaper for the family circle. The men of the family were all out working hard to earn money, and the ladies were all doing their best to make money work for them.

She sent the houseboy running down the street with a note to the Latham ladies, who were sitting at their whist that afternoon, and before long the replies came back penciled underneath.

Margaret: “Ladies, I’ll let you in on a secret. Vanguard’s going to shoot up.”

Second cousin: “Where’d you hear that?”

Third cousin: “Last time you said you had inside word, and it hardly went up at all.”

Fourth sister: “Don’t listen to her. Everybody just stick with Storm Telegraph & Signal.”

“Storm’s rise is too much. It’s nearly sixty cents a share. Can it really go higher?”

Storm Telegraph & Signal had been issued at a cent and a half a share, and in a short time it had shot up nearly forty-fold.

Heaven knows how outrageous that was.

Eldest cousin: “You lot don’t know a thing. On the Exchange, you chase what’s rising, not what’s falling. The faster it climbs, the more folks buy.”

Caleb had of course heard of Storm Telegraph & Signal.

A few of his classmates had bought a small number of shares early on, and when the price passed twenty cents they’d sold out decisively and left the market.

When a thing looks too good to be true, there’s usually trouble behind it.

As they put it, the big holders were selling off while the small investors were still piling in like mad.

Who ended up the last fool all came down to how fast you could run.

With so little of substance behind it, how could such a high price hold up for long?

There were big players working the market from behind the curtain.

“That’s right. I bought in when it was over forty cents a share. My heart was in my throat at the time, but hasn’t it nearly reached sixty already, in no time at all?”

Margaret: “If you trust me, sell now!”

They were family, after all. She felt she had to say a word of warning.

The Latham relations all had some money to their names.

In Sterling City, their earning power might be dismal, but couldn’t they just get rich selling family lots to the railroad?

Then, following the trend, they’d used the money to speculate in town lots.

That was where the gap in wealth came from.

In this country, at least eighty percent of the moneyed folks’ fortunes had nothing to do with their own abilities.

It had everything to do with where they’d been born.

Out in the country, without that first bit of capital to get ahead, the first thing most folks did after earning some money was build a big house for the family back home.

The next thing was that their sons grew up and needed to marry, and two generations’ savings were drained buying a house in town.

Think about that logic for a minute.

It was frightening once you thought it through.

The last fool was always out in the country.

“Trust you? We’ve all seen what kind of foresight you’ve got, Margaret!”

“If you’d treated your son-in-law better back then, you’d be living in a palace by now.”

Margaret shot back, “What’s the use of saying that? The house I’m living in now runs to thousands of square feet. How is that bad? Besides, I’m only kindly warning you all.”

Chapter 206: Apples on the Street Corner

“You’ve only been buying shares a few days, and now you’re teaching us?”

“Do you still remember who got you started in the first place?”

The two eldest cousins were the ones in the circle standing firmly behind Storm Telegraph & Signal.

They’d gone in at twenty cents a share and had watched it soar to sixty, and their eyes were glowing red.

Anyone who spoke ill of Storm, they’d lock horns with.

They’d stopped just short of throwing their whole fortunes into it.

“Humph, believe it or not, suit yourselves. Anyhow, my son-in-law has already said that when something isn’t natural, there’s a good chance there’s trouble in it.”

Second cousin: “Your son-in-law said that?”

Third cousin: “Are you sure Caleb Walker said that?”

Margaret: “We’re family. Would I lie to you? He put a hundred thousand dollars into Vanguard.”

Second cousin: “Why didn’t you say earlier that your son-in-law said it?”

Third cousin: “Exactly. Whoever wants to hang on can hang on. I’m getting out anyway.”

“Wait for me. I’m going to unload my Storm shares too.”

The two of them were dead set on selling.

Margaret herself was nothing much to speak of, but her son-in-law was impressive.

In just a few short years, he was getting ready to move to Old Mint Lane.

You ought to know that in Sterling City, even the folks who’d grown rich from railroad right-of-way money had their ranks.

Old Mint Lane was a place where you’d never find any of them.

Put simply, who could afford to buy it out from under its owners?

A single house there would fetch a man his first hundred thousand, just to start.

To say nothing of the fact that Margaret’s son-in-law was about to settle in a courtyard mansion worth six hundred thousand dollars.

Naturally, the words he spoke carried great weight.

The second and third cousins, who’d already been uneasy, didn’t hesitate. They got ready to unload their Storm shares.

If they didn’t get out now, they might well end up with nothing but worthless paper.

Both had bought in when the price was over twenty cents, and now that it had risen to sixty, they’d more than doubled their money.

They were quite satisfied.

The two eldest cousins, however, after some hesitation, decided to hold on tight to their shares.

It had already climbed to sixty cents. How far could it possibly fall? Back down to twenty?

If that happened, heaven knew how many folks would be jumping off rooftops.

* * *

It was fair to say they were far too hopeful, and they’d badly underestimated the dangers of the Exchange.

Margaret’s second and third cousins sold their Storm shares at the same time, cashing out close to four thousand dollars between them.

Bought at twenty-six cents and sold near sixty, they’d more than doubled their money.

And it wasn’t only the two of them selling.

They urged their friends and relations to sell along with them, and then used the money to buy Vanguard shares.

Anyhow, following Margaret’s son-in-law in buying, there probably wouldn’t be any big mistakes.

As for Margaret’s two eldest cousins, still hanging on to Storm, all anyone could say was good luck to them.

Caleb had never expected that a few simple words from him would stir the Latham relations to such action, or that they’d save so many folks from being driven to desperate measures.

When shares climb, they climb like mad, and it’s the same when they fall.

Crazier still, when they fall, everybody wants to pull out their money and run, and no new money comes in.

Everybody’s trapped inside with no way out.

Once sellers badly outnumber buyers, most folks are stuck in the market for good.

Until their shares crash down to worthless paper, or they wait for things to settle.

And who knew where that settled price would end up?

Otherwise, why would so many folks who played the Exchange end up jumping off rooftops? They were all trapped.

In the afternoon, having nothing much to do,

Caleb took Joy out for a stroll. He hadn’t expected to come upon a peculiar sight just outside the house.

Under the glaring sun, a small wagon was drawn up at the entrance to their street.

His little sister, Katie, was actually there helping somebody sell apples.

Caleb: “…?”

“Katie, what are you doing?”

“Brother, can’t you see? I’m helping this fellow sell apples.”

“You really have too much time on your hands.”

Caleb passed Joy over to her and made her hold the child.

Katie had only met the apple seller after the New Year. Like Caleb once had, he made his living selling fruit on the street.

But don’t look down on the trade. Anybody even a little bit capable could easily make twenty or forty dollars a month.

It just wasn’t very respectable, that was all.

“Brother, aren’t you working today?”

“Taking the day off, staying home with the little stinker.”

Caleb asked her, “Why aren’t you at Cloudwater working? What are you doing here instead?”

Katie explained that the apple seller was from the Southern Territory too.

She’d bought apples from him once and had formed a rather good opinion of the young fellow.

Caleb was utterly flabbergasted.

He was so exasperated he could have died. In Sterling City she owned seven or eight properties already.

A girl earning tens of thousands of dollars a year, and she came over to help sell apples.

Couldn’t she use her head?

He didn’t look down on folks selling apples in the street. It was just that the gap was far too wide.

The way they thought about spending money was completely at odds. How could they ever be together?

“Come home with me.”

“Mister, mister, these apples are real good. Let me give you some.”

The young fellow had a sun-browned face, a lot like Caleb’s own used to be. Caleb didn’t despise apple sellers either.

The main thing was, he knew very well that if it weren’t for Grandpa Golden Ledger, a man selling fruit on the street reaching where he was now would have been flat impossible.

It’s important to know yourself, the same way he himself had never thought he was all that capable.

So he certainly wouldn’t let his own little sister take up with that kind of fellow.

He didn’t take the apple.

Caleb took his little sister home. “I’m telling you, Katie, have you got any sense at all?”

“Of course I’ve got sense. I just thought he was working hard and wanted to help out.”

“That’s the work folks like that do. What’s so hard about it?”

Caleb sent a messenger boy running for Clara. Scolding her all by himself wasn’t enough for this reckoning.

He had to drag in both his elder sister and his wife.

His foolish little sister really didn’t understand that once two people’s views on life are too far apart, they can’t live together for long.

She was someone who treated houses as a way to make money.

How could she take up with somebody scraping desperately to pay off a mortgage?

Clara came back quickly. Naturally, she took her husband’s only little sister very seriously.

His elder sister, Ruth, came too, still driving the Brewster phaeton he’d given her.

Four people round one table.

Caleb solemnly laid out his sister’s three great offenses for all to hear.

The moment Clara heard it was about selling apples in the street, she couldn’t help wanting to know more.

Caleb had to stop her. “Clara, what are you doing? I didn’t call you back to listen to a story. You’re supposed to be straightening out your little sister-in-law.”

“I’m just trying to understand a little better,” she said.

“What’s there to understand?”

Caleb picked Joy up again so his little sister couldn’t hide behind her like a shield.

“She’s worth two million dollars already. If she goes taking up with someone like that, I’m afraid one day she’ll slip off a cliff while they’re out on a hike.”

“Brother, isn’t that a bit much?” Katie frowned.

He’d blown a problem that didn’t even exist all out of proportion. Katie was left speechless.

“What do you mean, a bit much?”

Caleb said, “Two thousand dollars can drive a man to murder and arson. Never mind your two million. Don’t you ever underestimate how wicked human nature can be.”

“Don’t you understand that money changes people’s hearts?”

“Listen to what my brother’s saying, sister-in-law!”

Katie tugged at Clara beside her.

Clara too felt he was exaggerating a bit, but right now her loyalty was with Caleb.

Even when Annie grew up, they wouldn’t care too much what kind of person she found.

But taking up with someone from a vastly different background, truly, it was hard to hope for any future in it.

How could someone who got hundreds of dollars in pocket money live for long with someone earning forty dollars a month?

Clara coaxed her, “Really, your brother’s just looking out for you, even if he’s exaggerating a little.”

Caleb wasn’t pleased. “Exaggerating how?”

Clara shot him a look. “I’m not finished yet. Don’t interrupt.”

Katie felt her head was about to split.

She couldn’t run even if she wanted to. She ate at her brother’s table.

Besides, she always listened to her brother.

A little budding curiosity, snuffed out without mercy.

All afternoon long, her sister-in-law would talk, then her elder sister, and after her elder sister, her sister-in-law again.

With her brother gloating on the side, her afternoon was doomed to be anything but peaceful.

The reckoning went on until evening. Only then was the little sister finally allowed to go home.

Foolishness, plain and simple.

It seemed he really would have to take charge of finding his little sister a match himself.

Otherwise, who knew what kind of oddball she’d bring home.

Chapter 207: A Picture to Warn a Sister

Katie had been scolded all afternoon.

When she got home, her head was still spinning, and no matter how she explained that it was a misunderstanding, it did no good.

Everybody chose to believe her brother.

Caleb had even sneaked off a telegram to their folks back home, and his wording couldn’t have been more overblown.

“MA. YOUR YOUNGEST GONE TO SELLING APPLES IN THE STREET. DON’T YOU CARE.”

Martha wired back: “WHAT.”

Caleb: “SHE’S IDLE. FOOD AT HOME TOO GOOD, FED TOO WELL. NOW WANTS TO HELP OTHERS SELL APPLES IN THE STREET.”

“WHAT. WAIT. WILL WRITE AND SCOLD HER.”

And so, after Katie got home, a letter from her mother arrived by the evening post, and she was mercilessly scolded for another three hours, in writing and in her own head as she read it over and over.

When she got up the next day, she was still wearing two dark circles under her eyes.

Pitiful.

Was selling a few apples in the street for a little while really such a crime?

Did it call for the whole family turning out to scold her?

Even after scolding her, Martha still wasn’t easy in her mind, and she wrote to have Caleb take his sister to work with him.

As her brother, his worries truly never ended.

After Clara got up and made breakfast in the bright morning light,

Caleb ate and got ready for work. His little sister didn’t have much to do at Cloudwater anyway.

She usually liked to join in any commotion, so taking her to see the real center of gossip today would do her good.

There weren’t many rigs left in Sterling City he still wanted.

He himself kept only the Bellecourt Flyer, the white closed Hooper coach, and the custom gilded Concord coach in black and gold.

His wife, Clara, had the Ferrara Royal and an orange-red Kimball town-and-country wagon, a handsome high-riding rig built for the city.

The new Kimball wagon sold for over ten thousand dollars, and she’d bought it herself.

Since the start of this year, he hadn’t been much interested in rigs anymore, mainly because, well, he’d bought every sort already and had every model he could want.

Buying more didn’t make much sense.

His mother was driving an open-top Hooper landau around the countryside. However many more he bought, there was no novelty left in it.

Minding his business was now his greatest pastime.

As for his little sister, he still had to worry about her happiness for life.

These days, the place he went to work most often was still Rising Star.

After Rising Star’s valuation reached ten million dollars, the staff had stayed excited for several days.

A few days later, they found they still didn’t have much work to do, did they?

Those whose job was cracking peanuts went on cracking peanuts, and those whose job was chatting and chewing the fat went on doing that.

Being at work was like being off work, and being off work meant going home to mind the children.

Life like this? Let me come to work every single day.

The only regret was that there were too many holidays here, so they had to go home and cook for themselves.

They couldn’t even carry food home from the company anymore, which was just too depressing.

The one exception in the whole crowd was Mae Darling. She was a model worker.

Leaving a model worker idle made her fretful and itchy.

“Caleb Walker, so you’ve finally come to work, have you?”

Mae was a born chatterbox. Who’d have thought the queen of the theatrical world would buzz around him with endless babble?

Caleb had only just left his coach with the stable boy, and the moment he stepped inside, he ran into Queen Mae and nobody else.

“I say, Mae, can’t you take a rest? Didn’t you just finish a play? Tell you what, I’ll give you a month off. Go anywhere you like and enjoy yourself.”

Mae was so provoked she was fuming. “The competition in the theatrical business is so fierce, and instead of thinking about how to get ahead, all you think about is play. I don’t want it. I want to do grand spectacles.”

“Fine, then. Do a spectacle.”

It was odd. Ever since Mae had come on board, he hadn’t come across another spectacle that made money, not even one touring play that paid.

This woman wasn’t bringing him any luck.

Caleb thought slyly that since the spectacle scripts they’d been sent were no good, they might as well find somebody to write one for them.

He had no idea if that would work.

Caleb looked at his little sister and suddenly caught a spark of inspiration.

“Mae, I’ve got a pretty good subject, but it needs a good writer to make a script of it. Do you know any director with a bit of talent, who can write his own scripts and stage them well too?”

“A director who can write and stage?”

Mae had been a child player since she was small and had even worked with Sam Chowning. The little girl in his show “The Beggar Who Became Champion” had been her.

She thought about it. “I do know one. Director Chesney, who did ‘Northern Hearts.’”

“Him!”

Caleb had seen his plays. “Sterling Love Story” had been wildly popular, and he’d rather enjoyed watching it himself.

Everybody wanted a childhood sweetheart like the boy Sam Benton in that play, but as they grew up, they were all forced to live like poor Stella Maddox.

He wondered whether it was the sorrow of men or the helplessness of women.

Struggling half a lifetime just for a little nest in the city.

In the end, the nest was there, but the one you loved was gone.

Wasn’t it funny?

Caleb said, “Then get in touch with him. If the script turns out well, you’ll be the leading lady.”

Mae hummed with proud coquetry. Even the big boss had to defer to her.

When it counted, he even had to rely on her to make introductions.

Who’d dare say otherwise? He was so lazy he never went to any of the theatrical society suppers.

No matter who sent an invitation, Caleb simply wouldn’t go.

It was as though the finest beauties at those suppers held no charm for him at all.

Mae had worked with this new Director Chesney before, and they’d got along quite well.

It seemed she got along well with everybody.

A true walking encyclopedia of the theatrical world.

She knew somebody everywhere.

In the afternoon, Caleb met the rising young director.

The story he wanted to make into a spectacle was simple: a common man goes to great lengths to marry a rich girl, and still not satisfied, plots to kill her and take all her wealth.

Through a series of schemes, he makes her death look like an accident.

The idea had come from his little sister, and he meant to use the spectacle as a warning to her.

Rich as he was, putting on a spectacle now and then for fun was no problem.

He didn’t expect the story to make any money. It was meant as a warning to his little sister.

Chapter 208: The Vanishing Bride

So long as it didn’t lose money, that was fine.

“What a wonderful story!”

Sid Chesney’s eyes lit up the moment he heard it.

That counted as a good story too?

Caleb couldn’t tell whether the man meant it or was only putting it on, but right now there wasn’t even a script.

He had no way to judge.

“I want to stage a story like this right away. How long will it take you to write the script?”

“A month. No, half a month at most!” Sid Chesney promised.

Well, the fellow had to be either a genius or a marvel.

A mere month, he could wait.

Sid Chesney had made something of a name for himself by now, chiefly among the touring-play people.

Writing, directing and acting in “Northern Hearts” had made him famous overnight.

“If you let me direct this spectacle, my fee as director will be twenty thousand dollars.”

“Fine. Write the script first. Once it’s written, we’ll talk money. Rising Star may be short of other things, but money certainly isn’t one of them.”

Once the script was done, he could use the Golden Ledger to see how it would turn out.

It plainly made more sense to talk money then.

The rising young director took the idea and threw himself into writing.

Half a month later, he really did bring a finished script.

The spectacle was titled “The Vanishing Bride.”

Could a title like that make money?

Caleb didn’t believe it for a second.

But his investments in the theatrical world had always rested on Grandpa Golden Ledger.

No matter how fervently the new director talked, he wouldn’t so much as bat an eye.

[Spectacle appraisal: The Vanishing Bride.]

[Analyzing target. Please wait.]

One second, two seconds, three seconds…

A line of golden script appeared before him.

[Target analysis complete.]

[Title: The Vanishing Bride.]

[Production period: eight months.]

[Total investment: $240,000.]

[Return on investment: 700% to 1,000%.]

[Among the top five spectacles of the year at the box office.]

???

What was going on here?

He’d only honestly meant to give his sister Katie a warning.

Then the idea had turned into a script, and the script was going to be a spectacle.

Put in two hundred forty thousand dollars, and at least one million seven hundred thousand to two million four hundred thousand would come back.

Was he the genius, or was the director of “Northern Hearts” the genius?

What a marvel.

Caleb was certain of it now. The director of “Northern Hearts” was surely a great talent of the spectacle stage. A mere idea, and he’d turned it into something that would pay like that.

His Rising Star meant to break into the first rank of spectacle companies, and wasn’t this kind of talent exactly what they lacked?

Why was the Hartley Brothers Theatrical Trust worth more than a hundred and twenty million dollars on the Exchange? Because they had Director Ferris Kade, who took the box-office crown time and again.

Now his Rising Star already had Mae Darling and Lily Hayes, two leading ladies of the very first rank in touring plays.

If they added a first-rank director of money-making spectacles, wouldn’t the company’s worth truly climb?

Caleb cleared his throat and asked, “Your script’s not bad. I’d like to know whether you’ve thought about signing with Rising Star!”

Sid Chesney paused. Had he already become so sought after?

He hadn’t even known it himself. But since that was how things stood, it was time to raise his price.

“Boss, you might not know it, but my directing comes very dear.”

“How dear?”

“To have me direct a spectacle, you’ll need at least twenty-four thousand dollars for the director’s fee.”

Sid Chesney had pitched his opening offer high, expecting Caleb to haggle.

Little did he know the surprise would come so fast.

“Twenty-four thousand is too little.”

Caleb said, “Here’s the deal. From now on, for every spectacle you direct, I’ll give you forty thousand dollars as your director’s fee, plus a share of the spectacle’s takings. How about it?”

Sid Chesney: “Boss, are you joking?”

“Do I look like I need to joke?”

“Then I’ll think it over for three days. No, I don’t even need one day. I’ll sign right now.”

The contract wasn’t even drawn up yet. What was there to sign?

Caleb asked him to wait a few hours.

He had the company’s lawyers draw up the proper contract.

This fellow was a genius of the spectacle stage, no question. It wouldn’t surprise him at all if one day he outdid Ferris Kade.

A real surprise, truly.

It seemed he’d wronged Mae. The woman was bringing him luck after all.

Whatever happened, he had to give her a bonus later.

Grandpa Golden Ledger had seen it, so there could never be any mistake.

If it said the spectacle would bring in upward of two million dollars, then it certainly would.

If he was going to earn that much, why not hand out a bonus?

Caleb called Mae in. She’d been sitting just outside, legs crossed, leisurely sipping a cup of herb tea for her health.

She truly knew how to enjoy life.

But the moment she came in, she couldn’t wait to ask, “Well, Caleb Walker, can we back it now?”

“Yes, we certainly can.”

Caleb said, “But I didn’t call you in to talk about the spectacle this time. The boss has decided to give you a bonus.”

A bonus?

Mae’s forehead filled with question marks.

What had she done to deserve a bonus?

Counting up her days at Rising Star, apart from vexing the boss until he couldn’t eat or sleep, and rolling her eyes at him now and then, she hadn’t done a thing!

And she was getting a bonus?

Mae certainly wasn’t going to be so foolish as to say what she really thought. Wouldn’t that be idiotic?

Who wouldn’t be happy to get a bonus?

“How much? How much are you giving me?”

Caleb held up two fingers for her to see.

“Four hundred dollars? That’s not bad at all. Thank you, boss.”

Mae was a practical woman. When there was a bonus, he was Boss Walker. Without a bonus, he was Caleb Walker.

Caleb shook his head. “You’ve misunderstood. I’m giving you forty thousand dollars.”

“Forty thousand?”

Mae reached out a delicate hand and touched his forehead. “Caleb Walker, are you sure you haven’t got a fever?”

Caleb Walker wanted to give her forty thousand dollars?

Mae didn’t believe a word of it. She’d been at Rising Star a month now.

She knew very well what she’d done. Apart from provoking the boss every day, had she done any real work?

None at all.

If that was all it took to get a forty-thousand-dollar bonus, then she knew exactly how to carry on from here.

Chapter 209: Forty Thousand Gone Missing

The boss plainly had a streak in him that enjoyed being mistreated.

The more you scolded him, the more bonuses he’d hand out.

Yes, that had to be it.

Otherwise, there was no explaining how she’d ended up with a forty-thousand-dollar bonus.

Caleb was under some strain, especially since Mae’s remarkable figure became quite obvious as she came close.

Her hands were slender and just a little soft to the touch.

“Mae, I gave you a forty-thousand-dollar bonus. What’s so hard to believe about that?”

“Caleb Walker, just admit it. You’re not right in the head, are you?”

Mae was about to give him a fierce scolding, to satisfy his peculiar taste for mistreatment and maybe coax the bonus a little higher while she was at it.

Caleb abruptly pulled back his fingers. “Ah, you’re too rich. A little bonus like this is probably beneath your notice. Let’s just forget it, then.”

“Oh, sure. You never meant to give it anyway. Just making pretty speeches.”

Mae flopped onto the sofa in exasperation. “Ten thousand I might believe, but forty thousand? Tell it to the ghosts. I haven’t done a thing.”

She took out a red apple and began munching it with a crisp crunch.

The shrewd look in her eyes was full of cleverness.

Caleb shook his head helplessly. “You truly are a good woman. You’ve saved me tens of thousands without even meaning to.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Mae was completely baffled. The cat was out of the bag, and he was still keeping up the act.

It was just so pointless.

Not wanting to talk anymore, she left and ran into Blanche Whitney.

Blanche was quite busy. She rolled a hoop in the morning and skipped rope in the afternoon.

If she didn’t take a little exercise, then with the easy life at Rising Star, putting on thirty-eight pounds in a month wouldn’t be the least bit strange.

She was the boss’s one and only secretary.

If she got fat, how could she face anybody?

“Blanche, does your boss like throwing bonuses around like that?”

“Yes.”

Blanche was respectful to Mae. “The boss always hands out bonuses a bit mysteriously. Sometimes there’s a reason, and other times, when you ask him why, he’ll say, ‘I’ve got too much money. Is that a problem?’”

“What we love most about him at the company is just that. You never know when you’ll get a hefty bonus.”

“Just last year, because I brought someone into the company, he suddenly gave me a ten-thousand-dollar bonus. I was completely dumbfounded myself.”

Mae: “…??”

“Truly?”

“Absolutely.”

Blanche explained, “Our boss hands out money without needing a reason. Just last year, our Big Sister got several thousand dollars out of the blue, more than once. The rest of us usually get a few hundred.”

Mae was a little dazed. She felt she might have missed something.

“Let’s suppose, just suppose, he’d only now offered me forty thousand dollars, and then I scolded him into taking it back, and he said I was a good woman who’d saved him tens of thousands. I don’t want to be a good woman now. I just want to be a bad woman. What do you think?”

Blanche was flustered. She even stopped rolling her hoop.

“Mae, have you got it wrong? The boss offered you forty thousand dollars, and you scolded him out of it?”

Mae scratched the back of her neck, feeling rather frustrated. She’d been shrewd her whole life, and at last it had backfired on her.

How nice it would be to be a little dumber.

Right now she just wished she were simpler.

“It’s mainly that I feel I haven’t done anything at Rising Star to earn a bonus! Why would I get one?”

“Mae, the boss doesn’t care about all that. Look at us. We just loaf around, and our yearly bonuses are still several times our wages.”

Blanche went on. She’d already bought two big flats in Sterling City.

Both near the Second Ward, and both paid for in cash.

A yearly wage of a few thousand dollars certainly wasn’t enough for spending like that. The key was the high bonuses.

That settled it.

She’d just let forty thousand dollars slip through her fingers. Oh dear.

Mae turned and ran, to see if she could still get it back.

But what she didn’t know was that Caleb had already signed an agreement with Sid Chesney and set aside two hundred forty thousand dollars for Rising Star’s second spectacle.

“The Vanishing Bride.”

Rising Star truly didn’t need to use its brains much to make money, and Mae was genuinely good-hearted.

Knowing she hadn’t done enough, she’d even turned the bonus down.

Such great kindness.

A telegraph boy knocked at his door with a message. He saw it was from Mae, sent from the office downstairs.

“CALEB WALKER. WHERE’S MY MONEY.”

He wired back: “WHAT MONEY. DON’T KNOW…”

And then: “LINE BAD. CLOSING OFFICE NOW.”

Mae was left numb.

The vanishing bride. She didn’t know where the bride had got to, but her forty thousand dollars had truly vanished right before her eyes.

Chapter 210: The Matrimonial Agent

Caleb led Katie round and round his companies for quite a few circuits. His businesses were numerous now.

Never mind Cloudwater. That was a regiment of women from top to bottom.

The Fat Lamb had plenty of staff, but none of them seemed quite right for his sister.

As for Rising Sun Fruit and the Rising Sun Fresh Market, only hardworking, tough folks could sell fruit and vegetables that well.

If you were talking about the best prospects, it would still have to be Rising Star here.

It was only that he wasn’t too sure about the theatrical world.

Too many handsome men and beautiful women.

A rich man like him, if he married an actress, would have a hard time being sure the children were his own.

That was just how peculiar the theatrical world was.

To say nothing of his little sister, Katie, who’d inherited his own plain and simple nature.

Caleb thought he’d look inside the company first, and sure enough, he found a few young fellows whose prospects and character weren’t bad at all.

But the moment these fellows heard they were being introduced to the president’s own sister, their heads started shaking like the nodding dolls at a county fair.

Afraid it was the president testing their loyalty, they hurried to swear they’d never dare harbor any improper thoughts toward the boss’s sister.

What a scene. It was all over before it even began.

Finding a match for the boss’s sister wasn’t easy either.

At a loss, Caleb put on a pair of oversized smoked spectacles and sat at a little table outside Starbright Coffee Rooms with the sulking Katie, both of them drinking Bobo’s sodas.

And then… they talked over their plan of attack.

“Brother, you’ve been fussing around for days. Can’t you just take a rest?”

Katie was very put out. First she’d been scolded miserably, and then she’d been dragged around to one company after another.

It looked like encouraging the younger hands, but really she was only meant to find a match.

“Take a rest for what? You’re already a twenty-four-year-old old maid with no sense of it.”

Caleb paid her no mind.

Katie snorted. She was plainly only twenty-three. Twenty-four only if you counted the way the old country grannies did, from the day she was conceived.

“You two, I hear you’re looking to arrange an introduction?”

A lady in her forties came up to them without the least reserve, her smile quite friendly.

Most likely a matchmaker.

“My sister’s looking to be introduced. Have you got anyone good to recommend?”

Since there was nothing else to do while they sat sipping sodas in the afternoon, Caleb didn’t mind hearing more.

“Your sister’s looking for a match? Why, that’s wonderful.”

The lady proudly took a calling card from her pocket. She was manager of the branch office of the Hearth & Home Matrimonial Agency in a little neighborhood of the Stonewell District.

Why else would folks say the rail and the wire meant to change the world? Even matchmaking had turned into big business, done by post from one end of the country to the other.

After taking the card and looking it over, Caleb asked curiously, “How does your agency go about introducing people?”

The matchmaker smiled. “Our Hearth & Home Matrimonial Agency is the biggest in the country right now, with countless gentlemen of the finest quality on our books. Whatever kind of man your sister wishes to find, we guarantee satisfaction. But you understand, if she hopes to meet those gentlemen of the finest quality, she must take the highest grade of membership. The higher the membership fee, the better the quality of the gentlemen.”

I see. This was just like the fortune-teller’s tent.

The more money you paid, the better your fortune.

The matchmaker paused a moment and then asked, “May I ask about your sister’s own circumstances? It isn’t that I mean to pry. But you understand, gentlemen of good circumstances have certain expectations of their other half, so we need to know a little about your sister’s background.”

“Her?”

Caleb said offhandedly, “Seven properties in Sterling City, earns over twenty thousand dollars a year, owns a fiery Arabian with a red Tilbury gig and a white Brewster road gig with a matched pair of trotters. You tell me, with circumstances like that, what kind of match would be suitable?”

The matchmaker, experienced as she was, forced a laugh on hearing this.

“You’re quite the joker. If somebody really had circumstances like that, why would she need an introduction at all? She could just hold a shooting match and let the suitors compete for her hand.”

“Don’t listen to my brother. He loves to exaggerate.”

Katie said, “I earn a hundred dollars a year at an ordinary job, and I don’t own any property.”

That was more like it.

Young folks ought to be honest. If you truly had circumstances like that, who’d be sitting outside a coffee house drinking soda?

It was just making a laughingstock of yourself for nothing, wasn’t it?

The matchmaker beamed. “Not bad at all. With circumstances like those, there’s plenty to choose from. I have three grades of introduction fee. You can hear a little about them first.”

“Forty dollars a year guarantees introductions to gentlemen earning over two thousand dollars a year. Twenty dollars a year, and the introductions will be to gentlemen with their own carriage and their own house in Sterling City.”

“Of course, most of those are still paying off their mortgages. If you take the membership at thirteen dollars and sixty cents a year, then the gentlemen’s circumstances are quite ordinary, and most don’t own a house in Sterling City.”

Impressive.

Caleb was curious what bright spark had come up with such peculiar membership fees.

With so many little princesses in society these days, agencies like this certainly had their part to play.

Wasn’t this just love turned plainly into merchandise?

Katie chuckled. Seeing that her brother didn’t want to go on, she thought she might seize the chance to escape the smothering feeling of having an elder brother.

“Brother, I want to meet gentlemen of the finest quality, men with incomes of over two thousand dollars a year. Let’s take the forty-dollar grade.”

“Ah, what an eye for quality you have, young lady.”

The matchmaker said with delight, “Marriage is a matter for a woman’s whole life. All sorts of expenses can be spared, but not this one. It affects your entire future.”

“Right, right, right. You’re absolutely correct.”

Katie laughed and counted out forty dollars in banknotes for her, not troubling her brother over such small change.

The matchmaker had never expected to reel in such a big customer so smoothly.

The matrimonial agencies lived on their introduction fees, after all.

Whether the matches came to anything was up to the people themselves. The agency was only there to collect the money and handle the arrangements.

“With your taste, miss, I’m sure you’ll find what you’re hoping for. In fact, I have two gentlemen of the finest quality free this very afternoon, so if you have the time, you could meet them.”

Chapter 211: Bachelors by the Album

Get what she wished for? Katie didn’t have the first notion what she wished for.

If she had, her brother wouldn’t have been dragging her all over town looking for a match.

Caleb watched the matchmaker pull a fat leather album of cabinet photographs out of her carpetbag, flip it open with a practiced hand, and lay two fine specimens of eligible bachelorhood on the table.

“Now look here, miss. Don’t you mind that this gentleman’s carrying a little belly. He’s only thirty-eight and he’s been divorced but the once. He truly is a manager at a British trading house, pulls in better than two thousand dollars a year, owns a snug little house inside the Third Ward, and there’s less than ten years left on the mortgage. Marry him and you’d be a mother the very same day. Not bad at all, is it?”

No suit ever cut, however generous, could have hidden a belly like that. The man looked seven months along.

That was what she called a fine specimen?

“Next.”

Caleb turned the page himself without a moment’s hesitation.

The matchmaker introduced the next one, and this one at least was younger.

A twenty-nine-year-old with rouge on his cheeks and his hair curled with tongs, simpering at the camera like a debutante. Next, quick.

Just looking at him was aggravating.

The one after that seemed steadier: a clerk in a small government office.

About two hundred dollars a year, spectacles on his nose, bookish and well-mannered to look at.

But when they actually met him, he opened with a three-barreled volley.

Once she married into his family, the young lady was not to be seen about in public anymore. She was to devote herself entirely to supporting her husband and raising children at home, and she’d also be nursing his parents, whose health was poor.

She’d have an allowance of six dollars a month to spend as she pleased, and the rest of his money was none of her concern.

Anybody who knew him knew he earned two hundred a year. Anybody who didn’t would have guessed he had twenty million in the bank.

What kind of man made demands like that at the first meeting?

Caleb gave up on matching his little sister through a bureau.

You met every kind of oddball there was.

The men had their oddballs, and the women had even more of them.

He’d heard the bureau also sold a special gold card that promised introductions to big bosses earning over six thousand dollars a year.

If you wanted to meet that crowd of fine specimens, you had to empty a few purses first.

And yet no small number of young women were willing to stake their youth on a better tomorrow.

They’d borrow from anyone who’d lend, without a second thought, just to get their hands on one of those cards.

A crooked marriage market, strange love stories, feelings with a price tag on them.

Nobody knew exactly when it had started, but that was what courting had come to among young folks.

* * *

Back home.

Caleb still went looking for his wife to tell her about Katie’s afternoon of courting.

Clara, mother of two, had grown more and more careless about how she looked, lounging in her spacious bedroom.

She was actually wearing a white silk nightgown so fine it was nearly sheer.

She sat curled in the big armchair with her feet propped up on the windowsill, cracking sunflower seeds and devouring the latest installment of a London stage romance printed in a story paper.

She listened with half an ear until Caleb had finished, then said,

“Aren’t you worrying too much? With everything Katie has going for her, does she really need a matchmaker?”

“Well, I only meant to take a look. Who knew the marriage trade had gotten into such a mess these days?”

“I think you’re taking it a little too hard. Katie’s still young. What’s the hurry?”

Clara certainly wasn’t in any hurry. With all Katie had going for her, was she ever going to be short of a suitable man?

She just had to keep her eyes open.

Caleb realized this little minx was living far too comfortably these days. The two little stinkers were with their grandmother Margaret, and once supper was over, Clara was free to wallow in her story papers.

So Caleb picked her up and carried her to bed.

The vigor of a body that felt twenty-eight was really something.

Only when Clara truly couldn’t take any more and begged for mercy did he finally let up, still full of fire.

Clara shot him a coy look. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you