The heavy oak door of Morgan & Co. was violently pushed open by a hand that had lost its strength due to panic.
John Crain almost stumbled in, a stark contrast to the neat, composed bank employees around him.
"Morgan, John Pierpont Morgan, I must see him immediately."
Crain said in a hoarse, almost commanding voice to the front desk receptionist who tried to approach him.
The front desk receptionist was clearly startled by his appearance, but her good professional demeanor kept her calm.
"Sir, do you have an appointment?"
"No appointment. But tell him it's John Crain. John Crain of the Union Pacific Railroad. He will definitely see me." Crain's voice was urgent.
The receptionist hesitated for a moment, but seeing the almost murderous look in his eyes, she finally picked up the internal communication device and reported a few words in a low voice.
A moment later, she looked up, "Mr. Morgan asks you to go to his office, the third door on the left on the second floor."
Crain rushed towards the stairs without even bothering to thank her.
Young Morgan was standing by the window, his back to the door, seemingly admiring the busy scene of Wall Street below. Only when he heard the urgent knock and the subsequent footsteps did he slowly turn around.
"Mr. Crain."
His face still held that polite yet distant smile, as if he was indifferent to the other party's disheveled intrusion.
"You look... not so good. Would you like a glass of brandy?"
"No need."
Crain gasped for breath. He walked to Morgan's desk, bracing himself on the cold mahogany surface with both hands, trying to steady his body which was trembling from fear.
"Something's happened, John. Something big has happened."
Morgan didn't press him immediately, only motioning for him to sit down, "Take your time, Mr. Crain."
Crain slumped into the opposite chair, feeling his throat dry.
"It's Omaha. Durant... Durant is missing."
"Missing?"
Morgan's eyebrow twitched slightly, showing a hint of surprise at just the right moment.
"What happened? Kidnapped by indians?"
"Not indians, it's Argyle, it must be his people. Last night, they broke into the railroad company's office in Omaha. They pried open the safe, stole all the ledgers, documents, and codebooks. Then... they took Durant with them too."
The surprise on Morgan's face seemed to deepen.
"Argyle? You mean that... Felix Argyle who makes canned goods? Why would he do that? Does Doctor Durant have a grudge with him?"
Crain looked at Morgan's young and incredibly innocent face, and an unspeakable anger and... fear welled up in his heart.
It was this young man who had hinted to him at the dinner party to "deal with" Argyle's people. Yet now, he was acting like an outsider.
"Grudge?" Crain gave a bitter laugh, "More than a grudge. John, I... I listened to your advice back then... and tacitly allowed Durant... to use that old man Cartwright to create some trouble for Argyle's subordinates in the Platte River Valley."
He painstakingly spoke the truth he had been unwilling to face.
The surprise on Morgan's face finally turned into a solemn expression.
He was silent for a moment, then stood up, walked to the liquor cabinet, poured himself a glass of whiskey, and also poured one for Crain.
"Mr. Crain," he handed the glass to him, his voice becoming low, "I think you must have misunderstood something. I merely... analyzed the potential impact Mr. Argyle's involvement in the Platte River Valley might have on the Union Pacific Railroad. As for what agreement you and Doctor Durant, and Mr. Cartwright, reached, I know nothing about it, nor do I... intend to know."
He emphasized the word "agreement," clearly drawing a line.
Crain looked at him, feeling a chill rise from his spine. He understood. This young man had no intention of getting his hands dirty from the start. He had merely cleverly handed Crain a knife, then stood afar, watching him poke the hornet's nest.
"But you... then what do I do now?"
Crain's voice was filled with despair. He also understood that Morgan didn't want to get involved in this matter personally, but he had no idea what to do now and could only appeal to him.
"The ledgers and codebooks have all been taken. That fool Durant will surely spill everything. Once those things are exposed by Argyle... not only am I finished, the entire Union Pacific Railroad, and even... even Capitol Hill..."
"Calm down, Mr. Crain." Morgan interrupted him. "Panic is useless now. We need to clarify a few questions."
"First," he held up a finger, "after Argyle gets those things, what will be his objective? Just to retaliate against you and Durant? Or does he want to use this to blackmail the entire Union Pacific Railroad Company?"
"Second, will he immediately make these things public? Or will he choose to privately negotiate a deal with you, or... with a prominent figure in the railroad company?"
"Finally, among all the secrets Durant knows, which are just 'minor troubles' concerning you personally, and which are 'major problems' that can truly shake the foundation of the entire railroad company?"
Morgan's three questions instantly peeled away Crain's confused thoughts.
"I... I don't know..." Crain muttered, "Argyle, he acts completely out of the ordinary."
"Then go find out," Morgan said.
"What you need to do most now is not to panic here, but to immediately find someone who can talk to Argyle. To probe his bottom line and find out what he really wants."
"Who should I find?" Crain looked at him blankly, "I don't know any of his people. And he must hate me now..."
"Perhaps you don't need to contact him directly."
Morgan pondered for a moment, a hint of calculation flashing in his eyes.
"I hear that Mr. Argyle is very close to Secretary Stanton of the War Department. And even... selling weapons to the Kingdom of Prussia?"
Crain nodded. These rumors were no longer a secret in America's upper circles.
"That's right." A slight curve appeared at the corner of Morgan's mouth. "A person who is so high-profile in military industry and international affairs, what he least wants to see right now is probably a huge scandal about internal corruption within the railroad company that could drag him down too. Especially at this critical stage of the war."
"You mean..." Crain seemed to grasp a glimmer of hope.
"What I mean is," Morgan looked at him and offered his suggestion, "you can try to send some 'friendly' signals through some... unofficial channels to the War Department or to Mr. Seward, the Secretary of State. Hint that you possess information about 'irregular operations' that may exist within the Union Pacific Railroad. And that you are willing to cooperate with an internal investigation for the benefit of the Federal Government."
Crain's face instantly turned pale.
"You... you're asking me to be an informer? To betray..."
"No, no, no, Mr. Crain."
"I'm just suggesting that you find a lifeboat for yourself before the ship sinks."
"Think about it, if you actively cooperate with the investigation, provide some... harmless evidence, and push all the blame onto Durant and those who have already been caught. Then, you might not only clear your own suspicion, but even... turn misfortune into a blessing, becoming a hero who safeguards the company's reputation."
"As for Mr. Argyle," Morgan added, "once he discovers that the evidence has been sanitized by you in advance, and that the War Department has already intervened, do you think he would still risk offending the entire railroad company and the Federal Government to cling to a now worthless Durant?"
Crain listened blankly. The path Morgan outlined for him was full of risks, but it also seemed... to be the only viable way to save himself at the moment.
"Of course," Morgan finally said, a meaningful smile appearing on his face, "making this choice is not easy. It requires immense courage, and... some necessary sacrifices."
He picked up his coffee cup.
"Please consider it carefully, Mr. Crain. After all, this concerns your future."
Crain left Morgan's office in a daze.
He felt like a drowning man grasping a seemingly sturdy piece of driftwood, yet vaguely sensing that beneath this driftwood, a deeper whirlpool might be connected.
Young Morgan, meanwhile, returned to the window.
He watched Crain's stumbling figure disappear into the crowds of Wall Street, a slight smile playing on his lips.
Another chess piece, just laid, had begun to move according to his will.
As for what this chess piece would ultimately do to the Union Pacific game, and what trouble it would bring to the equally elusive Argyle... he would wait and see.
New York, Wall Street.
John Crain spent a sleepless night in his office.
The city outside had fallen silent from its clamor, then slowly awakened with the first light of dawn, but his heart, pounding violently with fear, never found a moment of peace.
Morgan's well-intentioned advice, like a venomous snake, coiled around his mind: confess to the government, shift the blame to Durant, and secure his own safety.
It sounded like the only way out, but Crain instinctively sensed the danger within it.
Because once he took that step, it would mean a complete betrayal of certain factions within the Union Pacific Railroad Company, placing himself in an even more isolated and helpless position.
Moreover, that damned Argyle still held Durant and those account books.
Who knew if he would, after Crain confessed, turn around and throw out even more damning evidence?
No, he couldn't fully trust Morgan. That young man was a big problem.
He had to test Argyle' attitude first. Crain rubbed his throbbing temples, deep in thought.
He needed an intermediary, but he couldn't trust Morgan's words and go directly to the Secretary of State. He needed someone who could access Argyle' inner circle and was not directly involved in that mess in Nebraska.
Templeton? The Bank President of Argyle Bank? No, he was Argyle' staunch confidant.
Baker, the new chairman of the Pennsylvania Railroad? Perhaps, but he was far away in Philadelphia, and he might not be willing to get involved in this muddy water.
Who else?
Crain paced restlessly in his office, his gaze sweeping over the briefing on the Prussian arms negotiations on his desk. This was fragmented information he had obtained through internal channels as a railway material contractor.
The Prussians, Colonel Dale.
Crain's eyes suddenly lit up. Yes, the War Department.
What Argyle valued most now was his relationship with the War Department and that large arms order from Europe. If he could send signals of misunderstanding and reconciliation to Argyle through military channels... perhaps there was still room for maneuver.
He immediately picked up a pen and began drafting an extremely cautious letter, preparing to send someone to Washington to deliver it to an old acquaintance in the Quartermaster Department, asking him to relay it.
However, just as he had written a few words, the office door was suddenly pushed open. Benson, the chief secretary, had even forgotten to knock, holding several newly delivered morning papers in his hand.
"Sir," Benson's voice trembled with extreme panic, "Something... something big has happened. Please look at the newspapers."
Crain took the newspapers in confusion. The first thing that caught his eye was the prominent front-page headline of The New York Herald, printed in the largest type, enough to make everyone passing a newsstand stop.
"Nebraska Massacre: Sonne Mineral Exploration Team Accused of Slaughtering Ranch Workers. Over Two Hundred Dead."
Crain's heart felt as if it had been gripped by a cold hand. He furiously flipped open the newspaper, his gaze quickly scanning the report filled with inflammatory words.
The article detailed how the armed exploration team of Sonne Mineral Company had carried out an "organized, cold-blooded massacre" of unarmed Cartwright Ranch workers on the south bank of the Platte River due to land disputes.
The report quoted anonymous eyewitnesses, detailing the "astonishingly rapid-firing new repeating rifles" used by the other party.
It even hinted that some kind of immensely powerful, never-before-seen "war machine" was involved in this "unequal slaughter."
The end of the article clearly stated that the behind-the-scenes controller of Sonne Mineral Company was none other than the rising young wealthy man in New York, Felix Argyle.
And the weapons used by the perpetrators were highly likely to come from his Pioneer Arms Company, producing weapons for the battlefield.
Crain felt his breathing almost stop.
If this matter was reported directly, there would be no possibility of negotiation between himself and Argyle.
In fact, the other party would definitely think that he was the one who launched the attack!
He tremblingly picked up the other newspapers Benson handed him. The Philadelphia Inquirer, The Boston Globe, The Chicago Tribune... almost all the most influential major newspapers on the East Coast and in the Midwest published similar, equally sensational reports on their front pages today.
This was... a premeditated public opinion strangulation.
"Who... who did this?"
Crain muttered, his mind a jumbled mess.
Was Argyle orchestrating it himself, trying to divert attention this way? Impossible, that would be like setting himself on fire.
Then who? The high-ranking officials of the Union Pacific Railroad Company? Trying to completely discredit Argyle this way and drive him out of the West?
Just as he was in doubt, Benson handed him several local New York tabloids.
These newspapers were crudely printed, and their content was full of unverified gossip and scandals. Today's focus, however, was unanimously directed at another person.
"Umbrella's Mistress, Catherine O'Brien, Controls Pharmaceutical Empire Through Beauty, Not Talent?"
"From Five Points Orphan to Company President. Unveiling the Wealth Code of Felix Argyle and His Irish Mistress."
"Nepotism or True Talent? Catherine O'Brien's Rise Sparks Controversy."
If the reports about the massacre had shocked and terrified Crain, then these scandalous news items targeting Catherine O'Brien, filled with sexism and malicious speculation, made him smell a more insidious and vicious scent.
Attacking Felix Argyle' business conduct might only cost him money.
But attacking the closest woman to him, and the most important partner in his career, was undoubtedly an attempt to shake the foundations of his emotions and trust.
This was definitely not the style of the old-fashioned figures in the Union Pacific Railroad Company. Their methods might be dirty, but they usually wouldn't be so... despicable.
In Crain's mind, the image of that young banker reappeared. John Pierpont Morgan.
A deeper chill spread down his spine.
What did he want to do?
...Meanwhile, in the streets and alleys of New York City, this storm ignited by ink was rapidly brewing.
Newsboys waved extra editions, shouting hoarsely about the "Nebraska Massacre" and "Argyle Company Scandal."
Every newsstand was crowded with people stopping to read. In cafes, in bank lobbies, and even during factory lunch breaks, people were whispering about the explosive news.
"Two hundred people, good heavens. This is even more terrifying than a battlefield."
A well-dressed gentleman, in a cafe near Union Square, put down his newspaper, his face filled with shock.
"I knew that Argyle wasn't any good," his companion across from him sneered. "Climbing so high at such a young age, he must have done a lot of unspeakable things behind the scenes. To grab land, he even commits massacres."
"But the newspaper also said he was only accused. There's no evidence yet," a voice from another table retorted. "Mr. Argyle built schools and orphanages in Five Points. He doesn't seem like someone who would indiscriminately kill innocent people."
"Charity? Hmph, that's just a trick rich people use to win over hearts," the first man scoffed. "Besides, who knows if the money he used to build schools isn't also stained with blood?"
Meanwhile, at the "Clover" tavern in Five Points, on the other side of the city, the atmosphere was completely different.
When The Herald, with its massacre news, was read aloud by a literate worker, the entire tavern erupted.
"Bullshit! This is absolutely slander."
A worker who had just finished his shift at the Argyle Food Factory slammed his glass onto the bar.
"We know best what kind of person the Boss is. He even gives opportunities to those small-time thugs, so how could he massacre ranch workers?"
"Exactly. This must be a lie concocted by those British bastards who are jealous of the Boss's wealth, or those mongrels from the railroad company," another worker echoed. "They just can't stand to see us Irish people living a good life."
Paddy O'Malley, the tavern owner, silently wiped glasses, listening to the indignant discussions around him.
He felt that this storm was not only directed at Felix Argyle alone.
It was also directed at all of them, the Irish people who had just seen a glimmer of hope in this land.
In the late autumn of Washington, beneath the towering white dome of Capitol Hill, a confrontation far more intense than any battlefield artillery was quietly unfolding.
Reports from The New York Herald and several other major newspapers regarding the "Nebraska Massacre" were like oil poured into boiling water, instantly causing an uproar in this city of power.
Democratic Party senators, who were already dissatisfied with the Republican Party government's wartime policies, especially concerning certain "closely connected" arms contractors, immediately seized this opportunity.
In the emergency meeting room of the Senate Military Committee, the air was thick with cigar smoke and the anxious scent of a power struggle.
"A massacre, over two hundred lives! Gentlemen, this is no longer a simple commercial dispute."
Senator Hans, a Democratic Party senator from Pennsylvania, was the first to rise.
His somewhat inflammatory face was now filled with righteous indignation. He slammed several newspapers onto the table.
"Sonne Mineral Company and Militech are backed by the same person, Felix Argyle. A young man who is earning astronomical profits from war contracts."
Hans's gaze swept over his colleagues, especially Chairman Clark, his tone full of provocation.
"Now, his private army has launched an inhumane massacre against unarmed civilians on federal land. Moreover, they used new weapons that our War Department had just approved for procurement. This is simply a disgrace to the States."
"I strongly demand an immediate suspension of all cooperation with Argyle and all his companies. Freeze all unpaid contract funds.
And that Congress establish a special investigative committee to conduct the most thorough investigation into this horrific incident, as well as any potential improper benefit transfers between Argyle and the War Department."
Hans's words immediately drew agreement from several senators who were also members of the Democratic Party or had interests related to railway companies.
"Senator Hans is right. We cannot use taxpayers' money to feed a butcher whose hands are stained with blood."
"The War Department must be held responsible for this. Why can a private company possess such a large-scale armed force? And be equipped with new weapons that even our regular army has not yet widely adopted?"
"There must be a dark secret behind this. It must be thoroughly investigated."
Facing these fierce accusations, Senator Clark, Chairman of the Senate Military Committee, looked exceptionally grim.
This was not just an attack on Felix Argyle, but a challenge to him personally and to the entire Republican Party's wartime policy.
"Gentlemen, please remain calm."
Clark spoke, attempting to quell the chaos in the room.
"The newspaper reports are full of inflammatory rhetoric and unverified anonymous sources. Before the truth is thoroughly investigated, to convict a citizen who has made outstanding contributions to the States based on a few sensational articles does not conform to our legal spirit and is irresponsible."
"Outstanding contributions?" Hans sneered.
"Chairman Clark, are you referring to the canned goods and rifles he sold to the army at high prices? Or are you referring to how his... equally young and beautiful partner, Miss O'Brien, came to control a highly profitable pharmaceutical company?"
These words, full of personal attacks, instantly made Clark's face turn ashen.
The other party was trying to steer this controversy from the commercial and military sphere towards a dirtier scandal.
Just as the atmosphere in the meeting room was about to spiral completely out of control, a calm and forceful voice rang out.
"Enough, Senator Hans."
Secretary of War Edwin Stanton had appeared at the meeting room door at some point.
He was not in military uniform, only wearing a simple black suit, but when his hawk-like eyes swept across the room, they carried an undeniable authority.
"Umbrella Corporation is Mr. Argyle's private company, and its personnel arrangements have nothing to do with anyone else."
"Moreover, this is the meeting room of the Senate Military Committee, not a tavern for spreading rumors in the streets."
Stanton slowly walked into the room, followed by Colonel Dale, head of the Ordnance Department.
He walked to the table and placed a more objective preliminary report, just submitted by military intelligence, on the table.
"Regarding what happened in Nebraska, the military is conducting an independent investigation. The preliminary report indicates that a conflict did occur. However, the cause does not seem to be, as the newspapers sensationalized, that Sonne Company initiated it."
"The report points out that the location of the conflict highly coincides with the last signal sent by a Sonne Company exploration team that had been missing for several days.
And the first to launch an attack was a local rancher named Ben Cartwright, who gathered over three hundred armed men. Sonne Company's camp only launched a defensive counterattack after being besieged."
"As for over two hundred people killed? That is absolutely nonsense.
According to the intelligence we currently have, although Cartwright's forces suffered heavy losses, they certainly did not reach the number stated in the newspapers.
More importantly, in the conflict, Sonne Company's side... had almost no casualties."
This astonishing contrast plunged the meeting room into silence once again.
"This... how is this possible?" Hans looked at the report in disbelief.
"This is related to the weapons they used."
Colonel Dale added in due course, his tone very objective.
"As everyone knows, Mr. Argyle's Militech did indeed develop a new type of weapon with exceptionally powerful firepower.
But these weapons, including the 'technical support team' he sent to the Western Front to assist General Sherman, were all strictly reviewed and registered by the War Department.
Their existence is to protect the interests of the States, not to massacre civilians."
Stanton looked at everyone again, his gaze finally resting on Chairman Clark.
"Chairman Clark, I understand the concerns of all senators regarding this incident. The War Department also attaches great importance to it. However, before the final investigation results are released, we cannot allow internal divisions to arise due to unverified accusations."
"Mr. Felix Argyle and his companies are an indispensable force for the States to win this war.
Whether it's the urgently needed medicines and rations for front-line soldiers, or the new weapons that can effectively reduce our army's casualties, his support is essential.
At this critical moment, any attempt to destabilize our military-industrial system will be considered an act of betrayal against the States."
The weight of these words was enough to crush all those present with ulterior motives.
Senator Hans's face alternated between green and pale, but he ultimately did not speak again. Because he knew very well that with the iron-fisted Secretary of War Stanton's strong protection, coupled with the clarification from the military's preliminary report, it was no longer possible to bring down Argyle using this incident.
Chairman Clark spoke, breaking the deadlock.
"Then, Mr. Secretary, how do you think we should proceed?"
Stanton replied, "The investigation must continue. And it must be fair and transparent. I suggest that the Senate Military Committee, in conjunction with the Department of Justice, form an investigative team to go to Nebraska to ascertain the truth."
"At the same time, we also need to give Mr. Argyle an opportunity to prove his innocence."
He turned to Colonel Dale.
"Dale, immediately send a telegram to New York. The wording should be formal, but also reflect our trust."
"Tell Mr. Argyle that Washington has heard the rumors from Nebraska. We believe in his loyalty, but we also need him to provide a complete and convincing explanation for this unfortunate incident."
A complex glint flashed in Stanton's eyes, "Tell him that the reputation of the States and his personal reputation now depend on this matter."
"We need answers, and quickly."