Burning Daylight by Jack London

and retained most of his big enterprises of his own. Among the

companies in which he reluctantly allowed the investing public to

join were the Golden Gate Dock Company, and Recreation Parks

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Company, the United Water Company, the Uncial Shipbuilding

Company, and the Sierra and Salvador Power Company.

Nevertheless, between himself and Hegan, he retained the

controlling share in each of these enterprises.

His affair with Dede Mason only seemed to languish. While

delaying to grapple with the strange problem it presented, his

desire for her continued to grow. In his gambling simile, his

conclusion was that Luck had dealt him the most remarkable card

in the deck, and that for years he had overlooked it. Love was

the card, and it beat them all. Love was the king card of

trumps, the fifth ace, the joker in a game of tenderfoot poker.

It was the card of cards, and play it he would, to the limit,

when the opening came. He could not see that opening yet. The

present game would have to play to some sort of a conclusion

first.

Yet he could not shake from his brain and vision the warm

recollection of those bronze slippers, that clinging gown, and

all the feminine softness and pliancy of Dede in her pretty

Berkeley rooms. Once again, on a rainy Sunday, he telephoned

that he was coming. And, as has happened ever since man first

looked upon woman and called her good, again he played the blind

force of male compulsion against the woman’s secret weakness to

yield. Not that it was Daylight’s way abjectly to beg and

entreat. On the contrary, he was masterful in whatever he did,

but he had a trick of whimsical wheedling that Dede found harder

to resist than the pleas of a suppliant lover. It was not a

happy scene in its outcome, for Dede, in the throes of her own

desire, desperate with weakness and at the same time with her

better judgment hating her weakness cried out:–

“You urge me to try a chance, to marry you now and trust to luck

for it to come out right. And life is a gamble say. Very well,

let us gamble. Take a coin and toss it in the air. If it comes

heads, I’ll marry you. If it doesn’t, you are forever to leave

me alone and never mention marriage again.”

A fire of mingled love and the passion of gambling came into

Daylight’s eyes. Involuntarily his hand started for his pocket

for the coin. Then it stopped, and the light in his eyes was

troubled.

“Go on,” she ordered sharply. “Don’t delay, or I may change my

mind, and you will lose the chance.”

“Little woman.” His similes were humorous, but there was no

humor in their meaning. His thought was as solemn as his voice.

“Little woman, I’d gamble all the way from Creation to the Day of

Judgment; I’d gamble a golden harp against another man’s halo;

I’d toss for pennies on the front steps of the New Jerusalem or

set up a faro layout just outside the Pearly Gates; but I’ll be

everlastingly damned if I’ll gamble on love. Love’s too big to

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me to take a chance on. Love’s got to be a sure thing, and

between you and me it is a sure thing. If the odds was a hundred

to one on my winning this flip, just the same, nary a flip.”

In the spring of the year the Great Panic came on. The first

warning was when the banks began calling in their unprotected

loans. Daylight promptly paid the first several of his personal

notes that were presented; then he divined that these demands but

indicated the way the wind was going to blow, and that one of

those terrific financial storms he had heard about was soon to

sweep over the United States. How terrific this particular storm

was to be he did not anticipate. Nevertheless, he took every

precaution in his power, and had no anxiety about his weathering

it out.

Money grew tighter. Beginning with the crash of several of the

greatest Eastern banking houses, the tightness spread, until

every bank in the country was calling in its credits. Daylight

was caught, and caught because of the fact that for the first

time he had been playing the legitimate business game. In the

old days, such a panic, with the accompanying extreme shrinkage

of values, would have been a golden harvest time for him. As it

was, he watched the gamblers, who had ridden the wave of

prosperity and made preparation for the slump, getting out from

under and safely scurrying to cover or proceeding to reap a

double harvest. Nothing remained for him but to stand fast and

hold up.

He saw the situation clearly. When the banks demanded that he

pay his loans, he knew that the banks were in sore need of the

money. But he was in sorer need. And he knew that the banks did

not want his collateral which they held. It would do them no

good. In such a tumbling of values was no time to sell. His

collateral was good, all of it, eminently sound and worth while;

yet it was worthless at such a moment, when the one unceasing cry

was money, money, money. Finding him obdurate, the banks

demanded more collateral, and as the money pinch tightened they

asked for two and even three times as much as had been originally

accepted. Sometimes Daylight yielded to these demands, but more

often not, and always battling fiercely.

He fought as with clay behind a crumbling wall. All portions of

the wall were menaced, and he went around constantly

strengthening the weakest parts with clay. This clay was money,

and was applied, a sop here and a sop there, as fast as it was

needed, but only when it was directly needed. The strength of

his position lay in the Yerba Buena Ferry Company, the

Consolidated Street Railways, and the United Water Company.

Though people were no longer buying residence lots and factory

and business sites, they were compelled to ride on his cars and

ferry-boats and to consume his water. When all the financial

world was clamoring for money and perishing through lack of it,

the first of each month many thousands of dollars poured into his

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coffers from the water-rates, and each day ten thousand dollars,

in dime and nickels, came in from his street railways and

ferries.

Cash was what was wanted, and had he had the use of all this

steady river of cash, all would have been well with him. As it

was, he had to fight continually for a portion of it.

Improvement work ceased, and only absolutely essential repairs

were made. His fiercest fight was with the operating expenses,

and this was a fight that never ended. There was never any

let-up in his turning the thumb-screws of extended credit and

economy. From the big wholesale suppliers down through the

salary list to office stationery and postage stamps, he kept the

thumb-screws turning. When his superintendents and heads of

departments performed prodigies of cutting down, he patted them

on the back and demanded more. When they threw down their hands

in despair, he showed them how more could be accomplished.

“You are getting eight thousand dollars a year,” he told

Matthewson. “It’s better pay than you ever got in your life

before. Your fortune is in the same sack with mine. You’ve got

to stand for some of the strain and risk. You’ve got personal

credit in this town. Use it. Stand off butcher and baker and

all the rest. Savvee? You’re drawing down something like six

hundred and sixty dollars a month. I want that cash. From now

on, stand everybody off and draw down a hundred. I’ll pay you

interest on the rest till this blows over.”

Two weeks later, with the pay-roll before them, it was:–

“Matthewson, who’s this bookkeeper, Rogers? Your nephew? I

thought so. He’s pulling down eighty-five a month. After–this

let him draw thirty-five. The forty can ride with me at

interest.”

“Impossible! ” Matthewson cried. “He can’t make ends meet on

his salary as it is, and he has a wife and two kids–”

Daylight was upon him with a mighty oath.

“Can’t! Impossible! What in hell do you think I’m running? A

home for feeble-minded? Feeding and dressing and wiping the

little noses of a lot of idiots that can’t take care of

themselves? Not on your life. I’m hustling, and now’s the time

that everybody that works for me has got to hustle. I want no

fair-weather birds holding down my office chairs or anything

else. This is nasty weather, damn nasty weather, and they’ve got

to buck into it just like me. There are ten thousand men out of

work in Oakland right now, and sixty thousand more in San

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