“The Philadelphia and Reading filed bankruptcy last February, and the Santa Fe and Union Pacific railroads have fallen on hard times. It is said before the year is out they’ll both be in receivership. I don’t wish to be brought down with them.”
“But, Father, they will recover in time. The railroads mustcontinue to ship goods from one end of the country to the other. People will still demand to travel by rail.”
“Then perhaps sell and get a decent price, and once they fall apart, we can help pick up the pieces. Now, what of the logging camps and sawmills. What is going on there?”
“I was at the Lumber Exchange just this morning. People are afraid, and some are eager to do whatever they can to remove themselves from danger. I am in negotiations to buy Upton Logging.”
“Buy? What would ever possess you to do that? The country is falling into a depression, and you’re buying more business responsibilities?”
“Upton owns more acreage than he knows what to do with. I wasn’t the only one offering to take it off his hands, I was merely the one willing to pay the most. And even that price was much lower than property we purchased last year.”
“Madness!” His father looked absolutely stunned.
“Father, try not to give yourself a heart attack. The timber will keep until such time when the economy recovers and cutting it is once again a moneymaking proposition. Frankly, there are still plenty of projects moving forward despite our having had a dozen cancellations for finished lumber. Besides, I knew you wouldn’t approve, so I used my own money to buy out Upton. It’s my risk, not yours.”
There was a hint of relief in his father’s reddened face. “We should lay off the workers and close the shops for a time. That will save us a great deal of money. Didn’t you say we had quite a stockpile of lumber?”
“Yes, but you hardly want to add to the problem locally. I believe we should keep the men working. Perhaps we could shorten work hours or even days. I think we must keep our employees earning a living, even a reduced living. We don’t want to add to the ongoing crisis here.”
“I can’t support them forever. If we’re not selling lumber, I certainly can’t keep them working to produce it.”
Max crossed his arms. “This crisis isn’t going to last forever, and when it’s past, people will begin again. Having vast forests with trees at the ready is no cost to us. Having the milled lumber causes us no real problem either. We simply need to make certain we can store it safely. We have warehouses and need only to keep it dry and ventilated to avoid mold and rot, so we’ll store it on pallets and racks for optimal air circulation. It should last for some time. However, my guess is that by this time next year, most of this will be behind us.”
“That’s a rather optimistic outlook, wouldn’t you say? Even if the worst is over, the effects will go on for years.”
“I just think if we’re careful and refuse to panic like so many others, we’ll be fine. We have our gold reserves and plenty of ready cash. Our expenses are minimal, and unless you and the Duchess decide to take another expensive trip to New York City, we should be fine.”
“That trip was necessary. Your stepmother had needs, as did I. Your brothers requested I come on account of the business, and I needed to see for myself how things were faring with our Eastern businesses. Shipping has suffered just like everything else.”
“Everyone and everything is suffering, Father. But if you review any of these businesses, you will see that I’ve managed to keep them up and running. I’ve explained to our sawmill and logging employees that I see no reason to close production.”
“I suppose if you truly feel that’s the way to go, then I will trust you. You always did have a feel and understanding of such things.”
“I appreciate your confidence in me, sir.”
“What about the money you’ve recently come into? Yourmother’s father’s money?” His father looked up from the desk with a rather hopeful look on his face.
“My inheritance from Grandfather Dillion is safe. As you know, a good portion of it was real estate. In reviewing the pieces, they are all quite valuable, and I will most likely sell a few of them off once the economy settles. I have no desire to be a landlord.”
“Perhaps when you do you can put the money into our holdings here. We will no doubt see great loss in the months to come. That might well be one way to redeem ourselves.”
Max frowned but said nothing. He wasn’t about to start an argument with his father regarding the money. His father was heavily influenced by his stepmother, Josephine Garrison. The woman he called “Duchess” at her own request, since she constantly told anyone who listened that she was related to English royalty.
“I knew I’d find you both here,” Max’s stepmother said, sweeping into her husband’s office like a regal queen.
Twice widowed before marrying Robert Garrison, Josephine always married for money and had done no differently when marrying Max’s father. She was spoiled and selfish, and Max found it difficult to endure her presence. No doubt she felt the same of him.
She had come into his life when he was seven, only a year after his own mother had died. Having been the unexpected baby of the family, Max grew up not really feeling a part of anyone’s life. His mother and father were too busy socially to spend much time with him, and his older brothers were in their teens and off to boarding school when he was born. Mrs. Goodson, the nanny, took on responsibility for Max and nurtured him as best she could. However, when Max’s mother died and his father remarried, he was quickly and very efficiently sent away to boarding school. He returned home during thesummer months, but home wasn’t home anymore once Mrs. Goodson was gone. Not that there had ever been much in the way of family life or comfort in that place.
When they moved from New York to Minneapolis some fifteen years ago, Max had been glad for the change. He hoped it might even allow him to remain at home during the school terms, but alas that was not to be. It seemed a few weeks each summer was more than enough for his father and stepmother to endure his presence.
So why his father ever imagined Max would want to join his inheritance with his father’s business dealings and stepmother’s spendthrift ways were beyond understanding. But now wasn’t the time and place to argue his point.
The Duchess frowned. “Goodness, but I do hope you don’t intend to be at this all day.”
His father offered an indulgent smile. “No, my dear. We were finishing up now.”
“I’m glad to hear it. I just received the post, and there is an invitation to the Turners’ annual garden fund raiser. We are obliged to attend, I think.”
