Loyola University Maryland - Evergreen / Green and Gray Yearbook (Baltimore, MD)

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THE LOYOLA ANNUAL 17 nf 0II|antg HE telephone jangled loudly. It was nearly eleven. All morning I had been expecting a call. I had an important deal on hand in Wall Street, for the success of which it was expedient that I be absent from ’Change till the very last mo- ment, so I had secluded myself in my country home, two hun- dred miles from New York. However, I could reach Wall Street in plenty of time, for outside puffed my high-power Packard and the Exchange did not close till three in the after- noon. It was most important that I should arrive in time, for,, though I was understood to be in the deal, I had not yet paid for the stock. I was not legally therefore a member of the corporation, whose object was the control of practically all the copper supply. Taking up the receiver I heard the voice of Brice, one of the leaders of the enterprise : “Hello. Is this Jim Ferris?” said the voice. “Well, Jim, everything is progressing finely. How- ever, the Harriman interests are making a big fight, but your appearance, with the cool million in cash, can safely be de- pended upon to swing the deal. Without you we would surely be whipped ; so be in tim.e. If you start now you ought to be here by two-thirty. Goodbye.” As soon as our talk was ended I descended the steps and entered my waiting car. No time was lost in the start and I was soon whirling over the turnpike leading towards New York, with the Hudson to my right and to my left myriads of populous villages. On I sped, as through a land in miniature, so rapidly did man and beast, forest and hill pass by. The hands of my v atch pointed to one when I reached Cragmont, with half the distance covered. But from here on a very god of 2

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18 THE LOYOLA ANNUAL disaster must have dogged my path. First, my carbureter became clogged. For a priceless half hour I lay prostrate be- neath the wheels of my dragon. When this difficulty was finally adjusted I sped on, but for a time only. Delay after delay occurred, minor, indeed, in their nature, but each con- suming its meed of time. By me flashed a huge mile post with “82 miles to New York” written upon it. I looked at my watch. It was after half-past one. Faster and faster I flew. For a time the accidents ceased and by two o’clock I was only fifty miles from my journey’s end. Then came the crowning disaster. I was flying along a clear stretch of road (the country around me was notably desolate) when, about a mile ahead, I saw a woman waving a red blanket. As I drew nearer I per- ceived that she was very old, and, with her grey locks swirl- ing wildly about her, she looked like a Druid priestess impor- tuning her gods. Nearer and nearer I came, and, as she re- mained steadfast in the road, I was forced to slow down and finally come to a full stop. Waving her arms imploringly she poured forth her tale of trouble into my ears. From the con- fused jumble of words I gathered that her daughter was very ill with diphtheria and would surely die unless she had a doctor within the hour. The mother had seen me coming and had rushed out to implore me to return for a doctor in the car. I hesitated. The nearest physician’s office was three miles back. It was now a quarter-past two and I had forty- five miles intervening between me and my goal. To return would be to gravely jeopardize my chance of arriving in time. But I could not look into those faded eyes, filled with all a mother’s love and refuse her request, much less as it con- cerned her daughter’s life. Turning the auto, I was soon racing back over the road whence I had come. Three minutes later I pulled up in front of a medium-sized house with a doc-