Chapter 4 #2
“My duties as a physician have allowed me a glimpse into those dark and unfortunate lives. I pray you never have to experience some of the dreadful things I’ve witnessed.
However, you must understand that especially in situations of women who have no one to care for them there is no hope of a better life unless we give it to them. ”
Most of the men glanced toward the skies or the grassy lawn. Turner had managed to quiet even the most boisterous braggart.
“Consider if your mother or sister was left widowed with several little ones to feed. How is it she should be expected to earn a living when she’d been trained since childhood that a mother’s place is in the home?
Yet even those women do what they can and take in laundry or sewing.
We are men of God, and as such, we are caretakers of His children.
Never forget this, gentlemen. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I see my wife wants me to join her.
” He bowed and left as quickly as he’d come.
“I suppose Turner makes a valid point,” Max’s father said.
“He does,” another man agreed. “He and his family at least are willing to part with their money. They aren’t all talk.”
“Goodness no. You know, his wife was the granddaughter of James Ashton Sr. That old man cheated people wide and far, and she has gone out of her way to right the wrongs he committed.”
“Yes.” A white-bearded man spoke. “She was more than generous to me. Her grandfather had swindled me out of several thousand dollars, but she reimbursed it with interest. The woman is a veritable saint.”
Max knew Judith Turner’s reputation. Within a year after her grandfather’s death, she had done what she could to make up for the old man’s deception and outright thievery.
The entire city was amazed at her kindness and disregard for her own fortune.
Max had followed her actions closely, amazed that anyone would even care to do what she had done.
Her grandfather had broken no law, and while his actions had often been immoral and barely legal, he had been extremely cautious so as to avoid courtroom drama.
Mrs. Turner had been under no obligation to help anyone, and yet she had felt compelled to do so. He’d never admired a woman more.
“I was telling Sterling that the industry can’t possibly make it through unscathed,” someone said, drawing Max’s attention.
He knew his father’s associates to a degree.
He’d heard his father speak in detail of each, but unless it correlated to business transactions, Max wasn’t interested in knowing their gossip.
Many thought such things were left to the women, but behind closed doors men were often far more guilty of sharing intimate details of treachery and downfall.
Now as Max listened, he realized these men were heavily invested in sawmills.
It had only been lately that his father felt he should know them.
“No, that would be quite impossible. New construction is greatly depressed,” one of their milling associates Elias Corbin offered.
Ambrose Sterling nodded and added, “The sawmills and logging industries have taken a terrible blow from this economic disaster. We’re sitting on product that can’t be moved. No one is of a mind to build anything when financial institutes are collapsing all around us.”
“It’s not going to be easy to bear,” Max’s father said, shaking his head. “We glean some thirty percent of our profits from those businesses. Still, we must shut them down.”
“Those industries also employ a great many men,” Max reminded them. “If we close them down completely, we will be putting men out of work and adding to the problem.”
“Can’t be helped, young man.” Sterling pointed his cigar at Max. “It’s us or them.”
“We could find ways to keep them employed, even while safeguarding our future.” Max had heard his father speak constantly of closing down the mills and logging camps. “Perhaps we take a smaller profit for a time, but it could be done.”
“Another idea has come to mind,” one of the other men said in a hushed tone. “We start anew.”
“Meaning what?” another asked.
“To put it quite bluntly, we all have fire insurance on those mills. We’ve paid a pretty penny for it, and perhaps it’s time to take advantage of those policies.”
“Fire insurance is hardly something to be utilized at will,” Max replied.
“Hush,” his father said, nudging his side.
The other men looked at Max as though trying to figure out if he could be trusted. He grew uneasy at the thought that they saw nothing wrong with discussing setting fire to their mills to collect insurance money.
“It’s illegal,” Max said, unconcerned by their disapproval.
“It shouldn’t be. We’ve paid the premiums all these years. Now with the country in bad financial straits, we should be able to redeem ourselves through those policies.”
“I see nothing wrong with that. It hurts no one. A crimen sine victima, if you must insist on calling it a crime.”
“A crime without a victim?” Max questioned. “That’s hardly the case. Insurance companies are struggling as much as any other industry in America. I’m certain this isn’t the answer. If any of you were in the insurance business, you wouldn’t support such an idea either.”
Max looked at Ambrose Sterling. The man was wealthy beyond most in this crowd. Apparently, such wealth gave a man the idea that he was somehow above the law.
“In extreme times, one finds that every possible solution must be considered,” Sterling said with a slight shrug.
It was difficult to keep his anger under control, but Max said nothing. No doubt Sterling would do whatever he deemed most useful.
“Ambrose makes a good point. If we could recover the value of our operations and eliminate the need for paying the workers, it would be of supreme benefit.” Mr. Corbin looked at the others. “And one could arrange the matter so that it was handled . . . discreetly.”
That was all Max could take. “We won’t be setting fire to our sawmills. I can assure you of that. I, for one, have no desire to make a bad situation worse. Now, please excuse me.”
He turned, knowing that no one would stop him. They didn’t want to hear the truth and in fact would be greatly relieved once he was gone. He could well imagine his father apologizing for his ridiculous son.
Max clenched his fists, making his way deeper into the garden and farther away from his father and those fools. At a later time, he would simply convince his father that what they were contemplating was a very bad idea.
Max felt his ire growing. How could they be so foolish as to think burning down the mills was the answer to their problem?
Not only was the risk great to those men working at the island mills, but the possibility of the fire spreading to other areas wasn’t out of the question.
Boom Island was but a short distance from Nicollet Island, where there were hundreds of homes.
And not far from shore, neighborhoods spread out all along the east side of the Mississippi River.
Even the house he’d looked at earlier would be at risk.
He heaved a sigh and punched his fist into his open hand. “Surely calmer heads will prevail. Rational thinking and sensibility must return to them at some point.”
Rounding one of the well-groomed hedges, Max gazed momentarily into the most beautiful brown eyes he’d ever seen. The woman surprised him by reaching out to him. Only then did it dawn on Max that he was about to knock her to the ground.