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diff --git a/old/51970-8.txt b/old/51970-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 36444d5..0000000 --- a/old/51970-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,11609 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Plunderers, by Edwin Lefevre - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - -Title: The Plunderers - A Novel - -Author: Edwin Lefevre - -Release Date: May 2, 2016 [EBook #51970] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PLUNDERERS *** - - - - -Produced by David Widger from page images generously -provided by the Internet Archive - - - - - - - -THE PLUNDERERS - -A Novel - -By Edwin Lefevre - -Harper & Brothers Publishers - -New York And London - -1915 - -[Illustration: 0012] - -[Illustration: 0013] - - - - -THE PLUNDERERS - - - - -I--THE PEARLS OF THE PRINCESS PATRICIA - -ON the day before Christmas a man of middle age, middle height, and -middle weight, smooth-shaven, dressed in black and wearing black gloves, -walked into the business office of the New York _Herald_. He approached -the first "Advertisements" window, looked at the clerk a moment, opened -his mouth, and said several words-at least, so the clerk judged from the -motion of the man's lips. - -"I didn't hear that, Cap," said the clerk, Ralph Carroll. - -The stranger thereupon made another effort. - -"You'll have to come again," Carroll told him, kindly, at the same time -leaning over the counter and presenting his left ear to the voiceless -talker. He heard: - -"How much to print this ad under Male Help Wanted, in big type, so it -will make about two inches?" - - -I - - -He handed a slip to the clerk, which the clerk read, counting the words -from sheer force of habit: - -Wanted-A Man With St. Vitus's Dance and an Introspective Turn of Mind. -High Wages to Right Party. Apply Saturday Morning, Room 888, St. Iago -Building. - -"Four-sixty-four," said the clerk. - -The man raised his eyebrows inquiringly. - -"Four dollars and sixty-four cents," repeated Carroll. - -The man took out a wallet and tried to pull out a bank-note, but could -not because of his gloved hands. He took off the right glove, fished -out one five-dollar bill and gave it to the clerk, who handed him -back thirty-six cents. As the man took the change the clerk distinctly -noticed that he had a big ivory-colored scar which ran from the knuckles -to the wrist and disappeared under the cuff. He remembered it by reason -of the freak ad and the man's voice. - -The advertisement appeared in the _Herald_ on the next day. Being -Christmas, the one day of nonreading in America, few people saw it. -Nevertheless, at nine on Saturday morning, ten men with spasmodically -twitching necks or limbs waited for the advertiser to open the door of -Room 888, on which they saw in gilt letters: - - -ACME VIBRATOR COMPANY - -W. W. LOVELL, MANAGER - - -The elevator man was heard to tell an inquirer, "Here's Lovell!" And -presently the voiceless man, dressed as usual in black, with black -gloves, stepped from the elevator, nodded to the waiting men in the -hall, and opened the door of 888. At first they thought he was a mute, -but realized later that he was merely saving his bronchial tubes, just -as asking men to come Saturday forenoon--pay-day and pay-hours--would -save effort by bringing only men without employment. - -Lovell and the afflicted entered. The outer office had half a dozen -chairs, and a table, on which were some medical magazines. Lovell -scrutinized the ten applicants keenly, and finally beckoned to a tall, -well-built chap with a blond mustache, whose unfortunate ailment was not -so extreme as the others, to follow him into the inner office. The -man did so. There were a desk, three chairs, a table, and a dozen -polished-oak boxes that looked as though they might contain vibrators. -Lovell closed the door, sat down at the desk, motioned to the blond man -to approach, and whispered: - -"What's your name?" - -"Lewis J. Wright." - -"Age?" - -"Thirty-six." - -"Working?" - -"Not steadily." - -"Profession?" - -"Cabinet-maker." - -"Family?" - -"No." - -"Do you object to traveling?" - -"No; like it." - -"We pay sixty dollars a week, all traveling and living expenses. Will -you go to London, England?" - -"To do what?" - -"Nothing!" - -"What?" - -"Nothing!" again whispered the manager, very earnestly. He seemed -anxious to convince Mr. Wright of his good intentions. "Nothing at all! -Sixty a week and expenses!" - -"I don't understand," said Mr. Lewis J. Wright, with an uneasy smile. -His excitement aggravated the malady and his neck jerked and twitched -almost constantly. - -"I want a man with St. Vitus's dance." - -"That's me," said L. J. Wright, and proved it. - -"And with an introspective turn of mind. Understand?" - -"Not quite," confessed the cabinet-maker. - -"A man who likes to think about himself." - -"I guess I can fill the bill all right," asserted L. J. Wright, -confidently. Sixty a week, all expenses, and a trip to London began to -look very attractive. - -"Then you're engaged." The manager nodded. - -"I don't know yet what I'm to do," ventured Wright. - -"Nothing, I tell you." - -"Well, I'll do it, then!" And L. J. Wright smiled tentatively; but the -manager of the Acme Vibrator Company looked at him seriously--almost -reprovingly--and whispered so hoarsely that Wright felt like going after -cough-lozenges for him: - -"Listen, Wright. You will go to London with a letter to Dr. Cephas W. -Atterbury, 23, Abbey Road, St. John's Wood, N. W. Every day you will sit -down in a comfortable chair in the doctor's anteroom, where the patients -wait, from nine to eleven a.m. and five to seven p.m. You will think of -your St. Vitus's dance. For doing this you will get sixty dollars a week -from us and your hotel bill will be paid by the doctor. You may not have -to sail for a month, but your salary begins on Monday. Come here every -Saturday and get twenty-five dollars on account. When you sail you will -get all that's owing to you besides four weeks' salary in advance, and a -round-trip ticket, first-class." - -"But if I get stranded in London--" - -"How can you, with three or four hundred dollars in your pocket, a -return-trip ticket, and no need to spend except for clothes, which are -very cheap there? Come next Saturday, but leave your name and address in -case we need you. Can we depend on you?" He looked searchingly into the -grayish-blue eyes of Lewis J. Wright, and seemed comforted when Lewis J. -Wright answered: - -"Yes. I'll go on a minute's notice." He wrote his name and address on a -slip, gave it to the manager, and went out. Lovell followed him to -the outer office and, beckoning to the afflicted nine to draw near, -whispered: - -"I've hired a man, but I shall need more soon. Write your names and -addresses and leave them here. Don't come unless I send for you," and he -distributed printed blanks on which each applicant wrote out his name, -address, and answers to the questions: - -1--Do you object to traveling alone? - -2--Do you object to sitting in comfortable chairs? - -3--Do you object to people making remarks about you? - -4--Do you object to minding your own business or earning your wages? - -One of the applicants spoke: - -"Mr. Lovell, I'd like to know--" - -Lovell, however, cut him short with a hoarse but peremptory "Don't -talk! Can't answer!" pointed to his throat, and disappeared in the inner -office, the door of which he closed. - -Whereupon the disappointed applicants, expressing their feelings in a -series of heartrending jerks, twitches, tremors, and grimaces, trooped -out into the hall. There they cross-examined Wright and arrived at the -conclusion that they were to be used as living advertisements for the -Acme Vibrator. Doctors were employed to boom it and the company supplied -dummies or "property" patients. - - - -II - -To the same clerk in the _Herald_ office, a fortnight later, came the -same man in black, and whispered something. The clerk recognized him, -leaned over, and asked, pleasantly: - -"What is it this time?" He had a good memory. He afterward remembered -thinking that the hoarseness was chronic. - -"How much for one inch in Help Wanted, Male?" - -"Pica caps?" - -The man nodded eagerly, half a dozen times. - -"Two dollars and thirty-two cents." - -The stranger, in trying to take the exact amount from his pocket, -dropped a dime on the floor and had much difficulty in picking it up by -reason of his black gloves. This naturally made the clerk remember -about the scar, which the man evidently desired to conceal. Carroll, the -clerk, alert-minded and imaginative--as are all American Celts--caught -a glimpse of the scar between the end of the glove and the beginning of -the cuff. - -On the next day, the unemployed males of New York read this in the -_Herald_: - -_Wanted--A Brave Man. Wages One Hundred Dollars a Day. No Questions -Answered. Apply Room 888, St. Iago Building._ - -There are many brave men in New York. When W. W. Lovell stepped from the -elevator at the eighth floor he had almost to force his way through a -crowd of men of all kinds--brutes and dreamers; sturdy animals, and boys -with romance in their eyes; fierce-visaged, roughly dressed men, and -fashionably attired chaps, with high-bred, impassive faces; young men -seeking adventure and old men seeking bread. Lovell was darting keen -glances at the men. He let his gaze linger on a man neither short nor -tall, of about forty, who suggested determination rather than reckless -courage. He was shabby with the shabbiness of a man who not only has -worn the clothes a long time, but has slept in them. Lovell approached -him and whispered: - -"Come about _Herald_ ad?" - -"Yes." Others drew near and listened. - -"Are you really brave?" He looked anxiously into the man's face. The -man, at the question and at the grins of his fellow-applicants, turned a -brick-red. - -"Try me!" he answered, defiantly. - -"Before all these men?" There was a challenge in the hoarse whisper. - -"If you want to," answered the man, with quick anger. He clenched his -fists and braced his body, as for a shock. - -"Come in!" and W. W. Lovell opened the door of 888. - -"I'm braver than that guy!" interjected a youth, extremely -broad-shouldered and thick-necked. - -Mr. Lovell looked at him coldly, steadily, inquisitively, as though he -would read the man's soul. He stared fully a minute and a half before -the thick-set youngster dropped his gaze, whereupon Mr. Lovell pushed -in the man he had picked out, followed him, and slammed the door in the -faces of the others. They tried the door-knob in vain. It was a spring -lock. - -Mr. Lovell sat down at his desk, motioned to the man to draw near, and -said, sternly: - -"No questions answered!" - -"I'll ask none." - -Lovell gazed at him intently. He nodded to himself with satisfaction, -and proceeded, in a painful whisper: - -"Your name is W. W. Lowry." - -The man hesitated. Lovell frowned and, leaning forward, said: - -"One hundred dollars a day!" - -"My name," said the man, determinedly, "is now W. W. Lowry." - -"Do you know anything about travelers' checks used by the American -Express Company?" - -"Yes." - -"Ever used any yourself?" - -"No." - -"Ever in Paris?" - -"Yes." - -"When?" - -"When I was--er--years ago." - -"How many years?" - -"Ten; no--eleven!" The man's face twitched. Remembrance was evidently -not pleasant. - -"I'll pay you one thousand dollars for eight days' work in Paris." - -"I'll take it." - -"Listen carefully." - -"Go ahead." The man looked alert. - -"You will get a first-class ticket from New York to Paris and return, -and hotel coupons for ten days in the Hotel Beraud, in Paris. You will -leave, in all probability, on February first, arrive on the eighth. On -the ninth you will go to the American Express office and cash some of -your checks. They will serve to identify you. Do it again on February -tenth. At exactly eleven minutes past eleven on the eleventh you will -whisper to the mail clerk: 'It is eleven-eleven, to-day the eleventh. -Give me the eleven letters for W. W. Lowry.' If you do not receive -eleven letters, don't take any, but return the next day at precisely the -same hour, and say exactly the same words. What was it I said you should -say to the correspondence clerk?" - -"It is eleven-eleven, to-day the eleventh. Give me the eleven letters -for W. W. Lowry," repeated the man. - -"Right! When you get the eleven letters you will bring them unopened to -me--here. Now go to Mrs. Brady's boarding-house, 299 East Seventy-third -Street; tell her you are Mr. Lowry. Your room and board are paid for. -Make it a point to be at the house every day at eleven in the morning -until after luncheon and at six p.m. You must not go out evenings under -any circumstances. I'll allow you eleven dollars a week for tobacco -and will bring you some clothes. Come back Wednesday at eleven-thirty. -Here's this week's eleven dollars. That will be all." - -"That's all right, my friend; but--" began the man. - -Lovell frowned and interrupted sharply: - -"No questions answered." - -"I wasn't going to ask; I was going to remark that you would have to -show me that one thousand dollars for the week's work." - -"Next Wednesday I'll take you to the American Express Company. I'll give -you one thousand dollars and you will buy the checks yourself and sign -them. I'll keep them until sailing-day and I'll give them to you on the -steamer. Forging," he went on with a sneer, "is signing another man's -name with intent to defraud. You will sign your own name--your own -signature--on travelers' checks that you yourself have paid for. See? A -thousand dollars for asking for eleven letters and bringing them to me, -unopened, is good graft, friend. If you make good I'll keep you busy." - -"You are on!" said W. W. Lowry. - -"No drinking. Above all things, no talking! I may be crazy, my friend; -but what would you be if you gave up a job worth a thousand dollars a -week and all expenses paid? Remember our motto: No questions answered!" - -"Damned good rule!" agreed W. W. Lowry, with conviction. - -"Look out for reporters and for men who say they are reporters!" warned -W. W. Lovell. "When you go out, close the door quickly behind you and -hang this sign on the door-knob. I don't want to see anybody." - -W. W. Lowry obeyed. The sign said: - -POSITION FILLED - - - -III - - -A particularly beautiful limousine stopped before the door of Welch, -Boon & Shaw, the renowned jewelers, on Fifth Avenue. There alighted from -it, on this cold but bright January day, a tall, well-built man, erect, -square-shouldered, head held high. He wore a fur-lined overcoat with -a beautiful mink collar, and a mink cap. He was one of those -blond-mustached, ruddy-complexioned, daily-cold-plunge British officers -you sometimes see in Ottawa. He walked quickly into the shop and spoke -to the first clerk he saw. - -"Where's the proprietor?" - -"Who?" - -"The proprietor of the shop!" He spoke with a pronounced English accent. -His eyes were gray and cold. They looked a trifle close together, but -that may have been from the frown--said frown impressing even a casual -observer as a chronic affair. His appearance, even without the frown, -was aristocratic. - -"Do you wish," said the clerk, politely, "to see Mr. Boon or Mr. Shaw?" - -"I wish to see the man who owns this shop; the--ah--boss, I think you -call it here." - -"Well, Mr. Boon--" began the clerk, about to explain. - -"I don't care if it's Mr. Loon or Mr. Coon. Be quick, please!" he said, -peremptorily. - -The clerk, now resenting the stranger's words, tone, manner, attitude, -nationality, and ancestry, turned to a floor-walker person and called: - -"Mr. Smith, this--ahem--gentleman wishes to see one of the firm." - -Mr. Smith came forward, smiling suavely. - -"You wish to see one of the firm, sir?" He bowed in advance. - -"Yes. That's the third time I've said what I wish. I have no time to -lose and not much patience, either!" He twitched his neck and twisted -his head as though his collar were too tight. It was a habit, and it -became more pronounced with his annoyance. All the clerks noticed it. - -Mr. Smith bit his lip and said, very politely: "Yes, sir. It happens -that none of them is in at present. If you will tell me what you wish to -see them about I may suggest--" - -The fur-coated man turned on his heel, his face dark red with annoyance, -and started to leave the shop. - -"Good-by, old Jerk-Neck!" muttered the offended clerk. - -Mr. Boon entered at that very moment. - -"Here's Mr. Boon, our senior partner," said Mr. Smith, with an -irritation in his voice that he could not conceal, and that now gave Mr. -Boon his cue. - -"You wish to see me?" Mr. Boon asked it very coldly, ready to say no. - -"You have an annoying set of clerks here," said the fur-coated stranger. -"I wished to see one of the firm and--" - -"You see him now," interrupted Mr. Boon, letting the words drop out with -an effect of broken icicles. "I am Mr. Boon." - -"My good man, I came after some pearl necklaces and a few rings, and -trinkets. Do make haste! I am Colonel Lowther." - -"Indeed! Well, what if you are Colonel Lowther?" - -In Mr. Boon's eyes was a look that made all the clerks in the store -busy themselves with their own affairs. Explosions scatter dangerous -fragments that may injure lookers-on. The fur-coated Englishman stared -at the sizzling jeweler in amazement. - -"Damme!" he sputtered. "Do you mean to say--Oh--I see! Yes! I am -the secretary of the Duke of Connaught. The jewels are for his Royal -Highness." - -The change was instantaneous and magical. They all understood now, -and forgave. There wasn't a clerk in the store who did not stare -with unchecked interest at the fur-coated member of the royal party, -concerning which the newspapers were printing columns and columns. - -The man opened his coat, took a card from a Russia-leather case, which -he gave to Mr. Boon. - -"Colonel the Honorable H. C. Lowther, K.C.B.," it read, "Private -Secretary to H. R. H. the Duke of Connaught." - -"Colonel Lowther," said Mr. Boon, in a voice from which all the icicles -had melted and turned into warm honey, "I regret exceedingly that -you have had to wait. Had I known you were here, or if you had only -mentioned who you were--" - -"Exactly so. Yes! And now I'll have a few words with you in private, -Boon." - -The colonel could not know that Mr. Boon was not a misterless Bond -Street tradesman, but a millionaire expert in gems and human vanity. So -Boon forgave the omission of "Mr." and magnanimously said, "This way, -Colonel Lowther, please!" - -In the office Mr. Boon opened a box of his good cigars--and they were -very good, indeed--and held it toward the colonel, who took one with his -gloved hands, lit it at the flame of the match which Mr. Boon himself -held for him, and puffed away, with never a "Thank you." - -Again Mr. Boon was magnanimous. - -Colonel Lowther wiggled his neck as if his collar were uncomfortably -tight, and then shot his head forward with a motion that made the chin -go up six inches--a nervous affliction that Mr. Boon politely ignored by -looking exaggeratedly attentive. - -"His Royal Highness wishes to leave some remembrances to gentlemen he -has met, you know--chairmen of committees and presidents of clubs, and -others who have been very nice to him. At home he would have given them -snuff-boxes or cigarette-cases, with his arms on them; but there won't -be time to engrave them, so he will give scarf-pins." He paused, puffed -at his cigar, and cleared his neck of the constricting collar. - -"I understand," Mr. Boon assured him, deferentially. - -"And the duchess will give rings -and--ah--lorgnette-chains--trinkets--ah--you know. Everybody in New -York has been so kind to the party. 'Pon my honor, Boon, I really think -Americans are keener for royalty than the British. I do! What?" - -"Blood," observed Mr. Boon, with the impressive sententiousness of a man -inventing a proverb, "is thicker than water!" - -"Eh? What? Oh! I see! Yes! Quite so!" - -"Our people," pursued the encouraged Mr. Boon, "have always thought a -great deal of the English--er--British royal family." - -"Oh, indeed! Now, Boon, I didn't think you showed great affection for -George III! What?" - -Mr. Boon blushed to think of Bunker Hill. His daughter was a D. A. R., -too! He hastened to change the subject. - -"You mentioned," he said, as though he were reading aloud from one of -the sacred books, "some pearl necklaces. At least, I think you did." He -put on the tradesman's listening look in advance. It is the look that -courtiers assume when they listen to his Majesty excitedly telling how -once, on a hunting-trip, he almost dressed himself. - -"Oh yes! The pearls are for the Princess Patricia. A necklace to cost -not over ten thousand. You see, the duke is not one of your Pittsburg -millionaires. He's not what you'd call rich, in America!" He smiled, -democratically, as a man always does when he is pleased with his own -wit. Mr. Boon smiled uncertainly. - -"You can't, of course," he said, regretfully, "do much with ten thousand -dollars." - -"Not dollars--pounds! Perhaps we may go up to fifteen thousand; but his -Highness would prefer to keep at about ten thousand pounds. That's fifty -thousand dollars." - -"I am sure we can please his Highness," said Mr. Boon, with impressive -confidence. There fleeted across his mind the vision of the tremendous -value of the advertisement which the royal patronage would give him. The -papers were full of the doings of the distinguished visitors. He himself -on his way to the office had been guilty of the pardonable curiosity -which the lower classes call rubber-necking; and he had even -discussed--in common with 89,999,999 fellow-Americans--the personal -pulchritude of the royal ladies. Usually democracy is enabled to -apologize to itself for its undemocratic interest in feminine royalty -by saying, "She isn't at all goodlooking." That excuse, however, did not -serve in this instance. The Princess Patricia was the most popular girl -in New York--with the classes because she was the princess, and with the -masses because she was so pretty! And to think of selling pearls to her! - -He closed his eyes and ecstatically read what the papers would print -about the sale! He heard himself saying to Mrs. Carmpick, of Pittsburg: -"This necklace is handsomer than the one we sold to Princess Patricia!" -He heard the rattle in the throats of Johnson & Pierce, of J. Storrs' -Sons, of the sixteen partners of Goffony's, dying from apoplexy -superinduced by envy, or from starvation following the loss of all the -swell customers! - -"Ah, you realize, of course, Boon, that his Royal Highness's patronage -is worth many thousands to your firm. What?" - -The colonel's eyes, Mr. Boon thought, were cold and greedy, as befitted -a common grafter. Mr. Boon resented this, having himself been caught -red-handed getting something for nothing. If he had to pay a -commission--"We appreciate the honor, of course, Colonel Lowther," he -said, deferentially--and non-committally. - -"Quite so! You ought to, considering how the newspapers will mention -your shop." - -"I may suggest, Colonel Lowther, that our firm's reputation--" - -"I know its reputation. That's why I am here"--the colonel's voice -seemed colder than a Canadian cold spell--"but it is no better than your -competitors'--Goffony, Johnson & Pierce, or J. Storrs' Sons. I figured -that the duke's patronage should be worth thousands to Welch, Boon & -Shaw; so you must make me a special price." - -"We have but one--" - -"I've heard all that, Boon," the colonel interrupted, angrily. "If you -are going to talk like a bally ass I'll waste no more time here. Bring -in the pearls. I can't take over a half-hour to this." - -Mr. Boon's hard sense and knowledge of advertising values triumphed over -his injured dignity. He excused himself, and presently returned with a -tray full of pearl necklaces. - -"I say, Boon, on second thought, you must not reduce your prices. It's a -bad principle." - -"Yes, it is," agreed Boon, cordially. - -"Therefore, my good fellow, name me one price--the lowest possible after -considering how much the duke's patronage is worth to your house. The -very lowest! Put it in plain figures on new price-tags. The duke is -accustomed to the prices across the pond, you know; so don't frighten -him. Now that one?" - -He picked up at once the most beautiful necklace--and also the most -valuable, though by no means the most showy. Mr. Boon's respect jumped. -He looked at the colonel, whose neck and head were twitching and -twisting violently. - -"This one--" he began. The colonel interrupted him: - -"Now, Boon, think carefully--the very lowest price," he said, sternly. -"If you name a really reasonable figure I'll pledge you my word to -recommend its purchase and not visit the other shops. Take your time!" - -Thus placed on the rack, Mr. Boon figured and cut and restored and -reduced again until he was angry at the torturer and at the opportunity -for a glorious advertisement. Finally he said, vindictively: - -"This I'll sell for sixty-five thousand dollars!" Immediately he -regretted it. Perhaps he was overestimating the advertising value of the -Princess Patricia's beautiful neck to exhibit his pearls on. The price -was exactly thirty-five thousand dollars less than he had expected to -get for it during the next steel boom. - -"Oh, come now, I say," remonstrated Colonel Lowther, impatiently. -"That's thirteen thousand pounds. It's too much, you know." - -"Colonel Lowther," said Boon, pale but determined, "I am losing -considerable money on this, which I am charging to advertising account -and may never get back. If the price is not satisfactory, I'm sorry; -and I can only suggest that you'd better go to the other firms you've -mentioned. They are all," he finished quietly, "very good firms." - -Colonel Lowther, who had not taken his keen eyes off the jeweler's face -during the speech, appeared impressed by Mr. Boon's earnestness. His -neck jerked spasmodically half a dozen times before he said: - -"I believe you. I'll take it. But first mark it--in pounds; thirteen -thousand pounds." And he looked on, eagle-eyed, while Mr. Boon himself -wrote out a new price-tag. Evidently he would take no chances with -sleight-of-hand substitutions. "Put it here," he said, "beside me." - -It made Mr. Boon say, half angry, half amused: "We won't change it for -an imitation string. We are really a reputable firm, Colonel Lowther." - -"Oh! Ah! Really, I--ah!" stammered the colonel, "I wasn't thinking of -such a thing!" He looked so absurdly guilty, however, that Mr. Boon -forgave him. "I think you'd better show me others--ah!--cheaper, you -know, in case the duke should not wish to go above ten thousand pounds. -Say, that one--and this!--and this!" - -He had selected the three next best; but Boon figured very closely and -in all instances named a price below cost: fifty-seven thousand five -hundred dollars, fifty thousand dollars, and forty-five thousand -dollars. - -"Put them here also with the first one," said Colonel Lowther.. - -"Don't you wish us to put them in boxes?" asked Mr. Boon. - -"Ah--ah!--I say, bring the boxes in and I'll put them in. We'll do it -more quickly," he finished, lamely. - -There flashed across Mr. Boon's mind the possibility of crookedness. -Colonel Lowther did not trust them--perhaps because he hoped to avert -suspicions by that same attitude of distrust! Mr. Boon determined to -watch closely. He asked a clerk to bring some cases for the necklaces. - -"You fix them, Boon," said Colonel Lowther, who was watching the -jeweler's hands as children watch the hands of a prestidigitator. - -It actually eased Boon's mind to be taken for a crook. He arranged the -necklaces, each in its own Russia-leather case, and then gratefully -helped Colonel Lowther to select two dozen scarf-pins, amounting in -value to eighteen thousand dollars, a score of rings worth in all a -little over twenty-five thousand dollars, and a few lorgnette-chains -and other trinkets. Once all these were duly price-tagged, packed, and -placed beside the necklaces, Colonel Lowther, after a series of mild -cervical convulsions, said, calmly: - -"Now, Boon, you and I must settle a personal matter. You know, of -course, the royal party never pays cash." - -"Then," said the impetuous Mr. Boon, "the deal is off!" - -"Silly ass! The royal family of England always pays. You know very -well that the jewels bought by King George for gifts for his coronation -guests have not been paid for yet. It's all a matter of red tape. The -money is as safe as the Bank of England! Any banker here would be glad -to guarantee the account--only that would never do, of course. Now you -know I can't take any commission. I've made you give me the lowest -prices for the duke, haven't I? What?" - -"Yes, you have; and therefore I can't--" - -"If I were a bally Russian I'd have made you name a price twice the -usual figure and I'd have taken the difference as a commission. It's -what you Americans call graft, I believe. What?" - -"Of course," said Boon, coldly, disgusted with the venal aristocracy, -"we'd never have done such a--" - -"Tut, tut! It's done everywhere; but not to me!" Colonel Lowther said, -so sternly that Mr. Boon considered himself accused of unnamed crimes. -He resented this, but, being unable to fix the exact accusation, -contented himself with remarking, diplomatically: - -"Of course not! But at the same time--" - -"Yes, yes," rudely broke in the colonel, with a silencing wave of his -gloved hand. "Now I can myself pay you in cash for whatever the duke -buys--say, up to twenty thousand or twenty-five thousand pounds. For -advancing this money, which will not be paid to me for months, I ask -you to allow me a half-year's interest. That," finished Colonel Lowther, -impressively, "is banking. What?" - -"At what rate?" - -"Oh, eight or ten per cent." - -"Impossible!" - -"Then, Mr. Welch, Boon, or whatever your name is, I wish you a very good -morning!" - -"But we'll allow you interest at the rate of six per cent, a year." - -"But I myself have to pay five for the use--ah!--that is--er--" -floundered the Englishman. Mr. Boon perceived instantly that the colonel -borrowed the money from Canadian bankers at five per cent, and got ten -per cent. It was not a bad scheme for high-class aristocratic graft! -Even a jeweler could philosophize about wilful self-delusion, the point -of view, custom, and so on. "Make it seven per cent. What?" - -Mr. Boon could not help admiring the persistency of the Englishman in -coating his graft-pills with the sugar of legitimacy. Doubtless the -colonel had really convinced himself this was not graft! - -"Very well," said Mr. Boon, with a smile. "I'll take three and a half -per cent, off for cash." - -"But we agreed on seven!" remonstrated the Englishman. - -"Well, three and a half per cent, of the whole is the same as six months -at seven per cent." - -"Oh!" The colonel began to figure in his mind. His cervical contortions, -twitchings, and jerkings were painful to behold. Mr. Boon thought it was -a mild form of St. Vitus's dance. It would enable him to recognize the -colonel in a crowd of ten thousand. - -"Quite so! Yes--three and a half per cent, of the total bill. It will -be at least twenty thousand pounds--that's one hundred thousand dollars. -Not half bad! What?" - -"Do you mean your commission will be one hundred thousand dollars? I'm -delighted to hear it!" Mr. Boon was so pleased that he jested. He would -play up the royal patronage to the limit. - -"Oh no! I meant the total amount, you know," corrected the colonel, -earnestly. He saw that Boon was smiling, and gradually it dawned on him -that the jeweler was an American humorist. "Oh! Ah! Yes! Very funny! -Quite so! I wish it were! How many millions would the bill have to be -for the cash discount to be twenty thousand pounds? What? -Right-O! Well, now bring the pearls and the other things to the motor. -I shall show them to his Royal Highness at once. I can let you know in a -half-hour which he will keep." And he rose. - -"Ah!--er--Colonel, you know we don't like to--ah!--there's over two -hundred thousand dollars' worth of jewels, worth four hundred thousand -dollars in any other place in New York; and if anything happened--" - -"Nothing will happen," said the colonel, with assurance. - -"And then, it will take a long time to prepare the memorandum of--" - -"Why do you need a memorandum?" inquired the colonel, coldly. He looked -as if he began to suspect that Mr. Boon distrusted a member of the suite -of his Royal Highness, Prince Arthur William Patrick Albert, K.G., K.T., -K.P., P.C., G.M.B., G.3. S.I., G.C.M.G., G.C.I.E., G.C.V.O., Duke of -Connaught and Stratheam, Earl of Sussex, Prince of Coburg and Gotha, -Governor-General of Canada, and potential customer of the world-renowned -firm of Welch, Boon & Shaw. - -Reading the emotions on the colonel's face and not desiring to offend, -but at the same time determined not to deliver two hundred thousand -dollars' worth of goods to a stranger, who might be the duke's -secretary, but might not be a reliable man financially, for all that, -Mr. Boon groped for an excuse. But Colonel Lowther pursued, frigidly: - -"Why should you need a memorandum if you yourself will bring the jewels? -Did you think I was a bally clerk to sell your jewels for you? You do -the talking--and don't change the prices!" - -So profoundly relieved as not to resent the last insult, Mr. Boon smiled -pleasantly and said, "I must take a man to carry them." - -"Take a regiment if you wish; but there's room for only three in the -motor," said the Englishman, his neck twitching and twisting and jerking -quite violently. Anger seemed to aggravate his nervous malady. Wherefore -Mr. Boon hastily gathered up the packages, put them into a jeweler's -strong valise, and followed the colonel, accompanied by Terry Donnelly, -the store's private policeman, who carried the precious satchel in one -hand, and in the other--in his overcoat pocket--an automatic pistol of -the latest model. - -One of the clerks must have told of the affair, for there was an eager -crowd on the sidewalk. They had heard that the Duke of Connaught's -secretary was in the store, buying diamonds. By the time it had passed -seven mouths it was the duke himself. Mr. Boon heard: "There he comes!" -and, "Is the princess with him?" and, "Which is the duke?" And he had -pleasant visions of free reading-notices and renewed popularity among -the ultra-fashionable. One of the traffic squad was trying to make the -crowd move on--in vain. - -The colonel good-naturedly forced his way through the mob to the motor, -followed by the jeweler and the store policeman, who saw on the door of -the limousine the letters "W. R." And both of them concluded that this -stood for the well-known initials of the duke's host. - -A short woman, with red hair and a self-assertive bust, stared boldly at -the colonel and said, "He don't look like his pictures." - -"Say, are you the duke?" asked a messenger-boy. - -However, the colonel merely said "Home!" and entered the motor, followed -by Mr. Boon and T. Donnelly. The store footman closed the door as if it -were made of priceless cut-glass. The traffic policeman touched his cap -and the motor went up the Avenue. - -The colonel picked up a newspaper from the seat and turned to Mr. Boon. - -"See!" he said, "our pictures. Your reporters are--ah!--very -enterprising and clever. But the photographers are worse!" He laughed -and went on: "The pictures don't look like me, d'ye think?" - -"I recognize the coat and the fur cap," laughed Mr. Boon. - -"Oh, do you?" said the colonel, seriously. He looked at it and -said: "But it might be my other fur cap, you know. What?" He looked -challengingly at the jeweler. - -"It might be," admitted Mr. Boon, diplomatically confessing his error. - -"Quite so!" said the owner of the fur cap, triumphantly. - -Mr. Boon, finding himself nearer the house of the duke's host, began to -feel more confident of putting through the epoch-making deal. It is not -often that a New York jeweler sells pearls to an uncle of the King of -England, to be used by the king's most beautiful cousin! He would have -the princess's photograph in his window. It should show the famous -necklace! - -The motor took its place last in the long string of automobiles and -carriages that were creeping toward the door of the house which his -Royal Highness was honoring. - -"Democracy meekly leaving its card at the house of royalty," laughed the -colonel, pointing to the twoscore vehicles ahead of theirs. - -"Americans paying their respects to an Englishman who is honored even in -his own country," said Mr. Boon. - -"Oh, now, I say, Boon, that's uncommonly neat, you know. What? But -perhaps we'd better get out and walk; otherwise it may be a half-hour -before--" - -A footman in livery came up to their motor, touched his hat with a -respect that entitled him to a bank president's wages, and said to the -colonel: - -"I beg pardon, sir, but 'is Royal 'ighness 'as gone to Mr. Walton's, -sir, at number 899 Fifth Avenue. I was hinstructed to tell you to go -there, sir." - -"Tell the chauffeur where to go," said the colonel, briefly. - -"Yes, sir--very good, sir." The man touched his hat and told the -chauffeur. - -Their motor pulled out of the line and turned to the west. - -"Mr. Walton was at Eton with the duke," explained the colonel to Mr. -Boon. - -"J. G. Walton?" asked Mr. Boon. - -"Yes." - -"I didn't know he was educated in England," said Mr. Boon in a tone that -implied he knew Mr. Walton well. - -"Didn't you?" said the colonel, more sharply than the occasion -warranted. - -"But then, we never discussed the subject," apologized the jeweler. - -"Do you know the house?" - -"Yes. I've been in it several times. I understood Mr. Walton was in -Florida and had rented his residence for the winter." - -"I don't know a bally thing about his private affairs," said the -colonel, coldly; "but I do know the duke intended to visit him, and I've -been told to go there." - -It occurred to the store detective that if the Englishman was rude to -Mr. Boon it was altogether likely the duke treated his private secretary -as a servant. It gave the detective pleasure to imagine this, for -whenever the colonel had looked at Mr. Donnelly it was with the casual -indifference with which men look at chairs or cobblestones. This made -T. Donnelly feel that he was not alive, and he disliked the aristocratic -undertaker. - -The motor turned into Fifth Avenue, sped northward, and halted before a -house. Mr. Boon recognized Mr. Walton's residence. - -The colonel alighted quickly and said "Come with me!" in the tone -foreigners use to menials, and didn't even turn his head to see if he -was followed, but walked up to the door and rang the bell. - -A man in livery opened the door. - -"I am Colonel Lowther!" - -"Yes, sir. His Royal Highness said you were to wait in the drawing-room -unless there was somebody with you; in which case you were to be taken -to him, sir." - -"Come on!" said the colonel to Mr. Boon and the private policeman. The -footman preceded them to a door at the back of the foyer hall, opened -it, drew back heavy portières, and announced, solemnly: - -"Colonel Lowther!" - -The colonel entered. So did Mr. Boon and Donnelly. A man stood gazing -out of a window. His back was toward them. For the first time Mr. -Boon--so he said later--felt that something was wrong. Yet he made no -effort to protect himself. - -"Your Highness, here are the pearls." - -The duke turned round. He had a kindly face, had white hair and -mustaches. - -"Let me have them!" said his Royal Highness, in the husky whisper of a -man suffering from acute laryngitis or partial paralysis of the vocal -cords. - -"I know that voice!" shouted Donnelly, and the jeweler knew he might -fear the worst; but, before they could put their hands in their pockets -for their revolvers, strong fingers took strangle-holds on their -throats, a spray of ammonia had been squirted into their nostrils and -eyes, and they were helpless. In a jiffy their wrists were handcuffed -behind their backs, their feet were fastened with leg-irons, their -mouths pried open with a bowie-knife blade that made them cease -struggling. Pear-gags were inserted into their mouths. Donnelly squirmed -and carried on like a frightened child--but at the same time kept -unfrightened eyes on the duke. Not so Boon, who was as pale as ivory. - -The duke turned his back on his captives and put on a black cloth mask, -but the watchful Donnelly noticed that he put into his pocket what -looked like false mustaches. He also donned a pair of black gloves, but -not before the policeman had seen a long, white scar, beginning at the -knuckles and disappearing up the wrist into the cuff. Donnelly recalled -having heard or read a description of a professional crook that tallied -with what he had seen. It would make the work of capture easier. - -The masked duke picked up the precious valise and said, "Take them to -the others." - -The four men who had nearly strangled the jeweler and the policeman were -dressed in overalls and jumpers, had on black masks, and wore gloves. -They carried the helpless victims into what seemed to be the servants' -dining-room. - -Propped up in high-backed chairs, Mr. Jesse L. Boon, of Welch, Boon -& Shaw, saw Mr. Wilfred Gaylord, president of Goffony's, Mr. Percival -Pierce, of Johnson & Pierce, Mr. J. Sumner Storrs, of J. Storrs' Sons, -and five of their clerks. Beside Mr. Pierce was an empty chair. Mr. Boon -was placed on it. The detective was dumped on one near Goffony's clerk. - -"Tie 'em in couples," whispered the duke. Each man was tied to the back -of his chair--and the chairs themselves were tied back to back. - -"That," explained the colonel, "will prevent you from hurting yourselves -by toppling over in regrettable efforts to reach the door. We wish no -harm to befall you. What?" - -The masked men in overalls left the room like perfectly trained -servants. - -"You are a damned fool!" whispered the duke, angrily. - -"Why?" amiably asked the Englishman. - -"The only people that don't talk are those that can't." - -"I know--but murder will out! Never knew it to fail. We have--ah!--you -might say--ah!--borrowed a few trinkets from these gentlemen. They may -get them back, possibly; but you can't ever bring back the breath of -life if you decapitate them. What?" - -"I tell you I will not leave them here to blab!" hissed the duke; -and Boon could not help thinking of the anger of a rattlesnake with -laryngitis. "A slight nick in the jugular and they'll bleed away -painlessly. Just before the end they will begin to dream. By------, I'll -do it! Right now!" - -The duke pulled out a barber's razor, opened it, and approached Boon. - -Something about his manner told the jeweler that this creature was about -to cut their throats as much for the pleasure of it as because of -the supposed safety. It was confirmed when the masked fiend wheezed, -malignantly: - -"It's sterilized!" - -Mr. Boon was suddenly conscious of an extreme cold, as if he had been -thrown naked into an ice-cave. On Pierce's face, grown gray, the sweat -stood in a microscopic dew. Gaylord's florid face was livid and tense; -J. Sumner Storrs had closed his eyes and seemed asleep, but the breath -whistled unpleasantly through his nostrils. - -"Stop!" said the colonel so sharply that the duke turned like a -flash--to look into the barrel of a blue-steel automatic. - -"Drop the razor, old chap! I can't let you kill the beggars in cold -blood. Upon my soul, I can't, you know!" His head was jerking and -twisting at a furious rate, but the revolver was as steady as a rock. - -"It's our only chance. It won't hurt them. They won't feel it any more -than a feather--it's so sharp," whispered the black-masked devil. - -"Drop it, I say!" said the colonel, peremptorily. They heard a gritting -of teeth from behind the mask as the duke closed the razor and dropped -it on the floor. Still covering his accomplice, the colonel put his foot -on the weapon. "Thanks, old chap!" he said, pleasantly. At that very -moment he could have capitalized the gratitude of the ten prisoners at -many thousands. - -"Fool!" came in a husky whisper. - -"Oh, now! I say!" - -"What's the difference between twenty years in the pen and twenty -seconds in the electric chair? I myself prefer the chair. But I'd rather -cut their throats and keep out of danger. I tell you, it's tempting -Providence to leave these men--" - -"Is it as much as twenty years, old fellow?" queried the colonel, -obviously perturbed. - -The duke nodded. - -"I say, gentlemen, I don't want to stay twenty years indoors, you know. -Really, it's not a pleasant thought. What? If I give you your lives you -must not take away my liberty. So I will go out now and leave you here -with my friend, unless you promise not to tell the police anything that -will serve as a clue and yourselves do nothing to harm us. If you -will act like gentlemen I'll undertake to prevent my friend here from -severing your respective jugulars. Nod for 'Yes' and shake your heads -for 'No.' Promise not to talk?" - -Ten heads nodded vehemently. - -"Come, old chap; you must take their words. Gentlemen, you will be -released this evening without fail. We must have time to leave New York. -Avoid the reporters as you would the plague. It would not be wise to -publish the facts! Think of it--the heads of the great firms! In parting -from you, gentlemen, I wish to thank you in behalf of the Plunder -Recovery Syndicate, to the success of whose operations you have in this -instance so generously contributed. Gratitude surely is not incompatible -with business methods. Gentleman, again I say, Thank you kindly, and-- -why not?--_au revoir!_" - -And that was the last the captives saw of the man who, on behalf of -the Plunder Recovery Syndicate, had reduced the holdings of pearls and -trinkets of New York's most famous jewelers by a trifle over one million -dollars' worth. - -It was nearly closing-time--midnight--that night when two men entered P. -T. Ayres's corner drugstore. One of them wore a fur overcoat and a silk -hat. The other was dressed in black, had a mourning-band about his hat, -and wore black gloves. He carried a bag on which the sleepy lady cashier -saw the "L" and the cabin tags of a transatlantic line. The man in black -said to her: - -"May this gentleman telephone for me, miss? My throat is in pretty bad -shape, and I don't want to use it." - -It was in bad shape, indeed. She could hardly hear him. - -"But, I say, dear chap--" remonstrated the fur-coated man, whose collar -was so tight that he wiggled his head violently as if in search of -comfort. - -"This is as good a place as any," whispered the man in black, -impatiently. "Call 'em up! I say, miss, have you got any slippery elm or -some kind of troches good for laryngitis?" - -She remembered afterward that when she said she would call the -proprietor he kept her from it by engaging her in conversation, which -likewise prevented her from trying to hear what his companion was -saying. - -The fur-coated man had called up Spring 3100, which is police -headquarters. - -"Are you there? I say, are you there? Yes, I know this is not London. -You know Mr. Pierce and Mr. Storrs and Mr. Boon and Mr. Gaylord? Well, -tell your men they are in a residence on Fifth Avenue, in the servants' -dining-room. It's Colonel Walton's house. Right-O! That's not your -business. Go to the devil!" He came out of the booth with an angry face. -"Confound their impudence! Where is my friend?" - -"He's gone," said the cashier. "Here--come back and pay for that call; -five cents!" - -The telephone clerk at police headquarters promptly told the news of -the whereabouts of the missing jewelers--for whom the star men had been -searching six hours diligently and secretly--and then tried, through the -telephone Central, to get in touch with the pay station from which -the "tip" had come, but couldn't, as they would not answer. The reason -Ayres's drug-store wouldn't answer was that the Englishman in his -ignorance had disarranged the connection without betraying that fact. -The detectives said it showed a technical knowledge of telephones and -their construction. - -The news was kept from the newspapers, in the first place, because the -jewelers requested it of the Police Department; and, secondly, because -it was deemed wise by the sleuths to fight mystery with mystery. As -a matter of fact, the detectives were confident of apprehending the -miscreants shortly--for had they not left a trail as broad as Fifth -Avenue? - -The jewelers went back on their words to the colonel, who saved their -lives. From their descriptions and the information given by Ayres and -the fair cashier, they knew the husky-voiced man with the scar on the -back of his hand must be Whispering Willie, a clever all-round crook. -The Englishman, they thought, was an amateur. The police communicated -with the _Ruritania_ by wireless, and asked the purser if among the -passengers were a man of middle height, smooth-shaven, about forty years -of age, with paralyzed vocal cords that made him talk as if he had acute -laryngitis, and a tall, well-built, blue-eyed, blond Englishman with a -nervous affliction of the neck like a mild form of St. Vitus's dance. -Within twenty-four hours the purser had sent the reply: "St. Vitus -here, under name of Lewis J. Wright. No trace of Laryngitis." - -So headquarters cabled to Scotland Yard to hold the tall blond afflicted -with St. Vitus's dance, who was thought to have sailed under the name of -Lewis J. Wright, until the detective sergeant and one of the jeweler's -clerks could arrive with extradition papers. And that's how Mr. L. J. -Wright was arrested in Liverpool, less on account of New York's request -than by reason of the absurd yarn he told. There was no such Dr. Cephas -W. Atterbury as Wright declared he was going to see. The letter of -introduction to the doctor, moreover, was a blank sheet of paper. The -New York police learned about W. W. Lovell in this way and knew they -were on the right trail. - -Ten days later there was arrested in Paris, at the office of the -American Express Company, a man answering the description of Whispering -Willie, who had presented some checks signed by W. W. Lowry. The Paris -police reported that W. W. Lowry was probably one of a band, because the -scar on his hand vanished when washed with alcohol. And his voice grew -normal when questioned by the prefect of police. He told an absurd story -of having been hired at the rate of one thousand dollars a week to ask -in a whisper for eleven letters at the American Express Company's office -on February 11th, at 11.11 a.m., and declared that when his employer -bade him good-by on the steamer he painted a scar on the back of his -hand and told him always to wear black gloves. The employer answered the -description of Whispering Willie and also of W. W. Lovell. The police -found that the whisperer's trail led a second time to the _Herald_ -office. The clerk, Carroll, remembered the mysterious advertiser very -well indeed. Messrs. Reese & Silliman, real-estate agents, told the -police they had rented Colonel Walton's house for the winter to a Mr. -J. C. Atkinson, an Englishman who had given as references a firm of -international bankers on whom his letter of credit for five thousand -pounds was drawn. The bankers knew nothing about him personally or -socially. Mr. Atkinson had drawn the entire five thousand pounds. He had -occupied the house two months, paid his rent promptly, and had given -a satisfactory deposit against possible damage happening to any of the -furniture. - -The police had lost four weeks of valuable time in following clues -that merely led back to the St. Iago Building and to the man with the -paralyzed vocal cords and the scar on the back of his hand, calling -himself W. W. Lovell, who was probably William W. Long, alias William W. -Longworth, alias W. W. Latshay, alias Whispering Willie. The Englishman -was not known to any member of the New York police force, but -fortunately he had a nervous affliction which would betray him without -recourse to the third degree. - -Exactly one month after the departure of the real Duke of Connaught from -New York Messrs. Jesse L. Boon, Percival Pierce, J. Sumner Storrs, -and Wilfred Gaylord each received a copy of the following letter, -typewritten on note-paper of the Ritz-Carlton: - -_Having disposed of the pearls of the Princess Patricia at a price only -eight per cent, below that at which you offered them to H. R. H. the -Duke of Connaught, we beg to suggest that it is a waste of money for you -to encourage the detectives and downright dishonesty for the detectives -to encourage you. You have caused to be arrested unfortunate men -suffering from chorea in Liverpool, Bremen, Genoa, Buenos Ayres, and -Panama, as well as Mr. W. W. Lowry in Paris and W. W. Longman in the -City of Mexico. For the last eleven months Whispering Willie has been -in the Missouri State Penitentiary, where he is Number 317. Our Colonel -Lowther has not St. Vitus's dance, is not an Englishman, and has not -left New York! The Duke of Connaught, otherwise W. W. Lovell, of the -Acme Vibrator Company, has a fine, strong barytone voice, has no scar on -the back of his right hand, is too young to have gray hair, and his nose -is not what it was when he was known as Mr. Lovell. We needed time to -move about unwatched in New York, hence the elaborate false clues. We -always plan our deals carefully and we are uniformly successful. We may -inform you, in selfdefense, that we operate only on the rich enemies -of society. Pearls and diamonds have ruined as many women as drink has -ruined men or Wall Street has destroyed souls! We regard them as plunder -to be recovered. You may be interested to know that we propose to -induce one of our most famous high financiers to contribute a couple of -millions to our surplus this month. At the proper time we shall supply -the name and the particulars, in order that you may compare notes with -the other patrons of_ - -_Yours truly,_ - -_The Plunderers._ - -The jewelers were inclined to regard the letter as a jest in very bad -taste perpetrated by one of their number. But all denied it, and the -communication was turned over to the police. The detective sergeant who -was in charge of the case also thought the letter was a joke--until -Mr. Boon told him he didn't see anything funny in the loss of a million -dollars' worth of gems and a score of false arrests. He wondered, like -the rest, whether there really was a syndicate, and presently found -himself waiting for the news of the second exploit. "He fooled _me_" -Boon confided to Donnelly. But what he really meant was that the man who -impersonated the private secretary of the Duke of Connaught could fool -anybody. - - - - -II-THE PANIC OF THE LION - - - -I - -A MAN walked into the office of Richards & Tuttle, bankers and -brokers, members of the New York Stock Exchange. All he could see was -a ground-glass partition, with little windows only a trifle larger than -peepholes, over which he read, "deliveries," "comparisons," "telegrams," -and "cashier." If you had business to transact you knew at which window -to knock. If you had not you should not disturb the unseen clerks by -asking questions that took valuable time to answer. It was a typical, -non-communicative, non-confiding Wall Street office. - -The man approached the "cashier" window because it was open. He was -tall and well built, with unmyopic eyes that looked through -tortoise-shell-rimmed glasses. The brim of his high hat, the cut of his -coat, the hang of his trousers, the hue of his necktie and the gray, -waxed, needle-pointed mustaches proclaimed him unmistakably Parisian. - -"I wish to see Mr. Richards," he said, in a nasal voice, so like the -twang of a stage Yankee that the cashier frowned and twisted his neck to -see if some down-easter were not hiding behind the Frenchman. - -"You what?" asked the cashier, and looked watchful. - -"I wish to see," repeated the stranger, with a formal precision meant, -to be rebuking, "Mr. George B. Richards, senior member, I believe, of -this firm." - -The cashier, with a frown that belied the courtesy of his words, said: - -"Would you be kind enough to tell me the nature of your business, sir?" - -Gourley, the cashier, insanely hated book agents, and his one pleasure -in life consisted of violently ejecting them from the office. When a man -clearly established his innocence Gourley never forgave him for cheating -him out of the kicking. - -The stranger said, very slowly: - -"The nature of my business with Mr. Richards is private, personal, and -urgent!" - -The stranger might, be a customer, and customers make brokers rich and -give wages to cashiers. - -"Mr. Richards is very busy just now, sir, with an important conference. -It would be a favor if you could let me have your name." - -"He doesn't know me and he has never heard my name." - -"Would any one else do?" - -The stranger shook his head. Then: - -"Say to Mr. Richards that a gentleman from Paris wishes to give to -him--personally--ten letters of introduction, one card of same, and one -life secret." The man's gaze was fixed frowningly on Gourley. - -"Ten letters of introduction, one card of same, and one life secret!" -repeated Gourley, dazedly. "Here, Otto. Hold the fort. I'll go myself." - -The cashier's place was promptly occupied by a moon-faced Teuton. -Presently Gourley, whose misanthropy had in this instance merely made -an office-boy of him, returned to the window and said, in the insolent -tones of a puglistic _agent provocateur_: - -"He says to send in the letters of introduction." - -"My friend," said the stranger, so impressively that the cashier was -made uneasy, "are you sure Mr. Richards said that?" - -"Well--ah--he said," stammered Gourley, "to ask you--er--would you -please send in the letters. He will read them, and as soon as possible -he will--ah--see you." - -"H'm!" muttered the stranger, skeptically. Then, as a man rids himself -of angry thoughts, he shook his head and, without another word, went -out. - -"Ha! I knew it all along," said Gourley, triumphantly, to his assistant, -Otto. "It beats the Dutch what schemes these damned book agents get up -to see people during business hours. But I called his bluff that time!" - -Less than ten minutes later the French-looking man with the down-east -voice opened the door, tapped at the cashier's window, and told Gourley, -sternly: - -"Here are the ten letters and the one card. They are very important! -I'll be obliged, sir, if you will yourself give them into Mr. Richards's -own hands. The life secret I, of course, will impart to him myself. Make -haste, please. I have only five business days and three hours left." - -Gourley laid the letters on Mr. Richards's desk and said, in the -accusing tone old employees use when they are in the wrong: "Here are -the letters of introduction from the book agent I spoke to you about. He -acts damned impudent to me, but I didn't want to make any mistake." - -Richards, a man of fifty, fastidiously dressed, but relieved from even -the implication of foppishness by a look in his eyes at once shrewd and -humorous, said, with a smile, "Well, he certainly has enough letters to -be anything, even a rich man." - -"Funny letters of introduction," said the cashier--"all sealed and--" -His jaw dropped. That made him cease talking. - -Mr. Richards had taken from the first envelope not a letter, but a -ten-thousand-dollar gold certificate! - -The cashier closed his mouth with a click. "What the--!" he muttered. - -"Next!" said George B. Richards, cheerfully. He opened envelope number -two and pulled out another ten-thousand-dollar bill. One after another -he opened the letters until he had laid in a neat pile on his desk ten -ten-thousand-dollar notes. - -"The letters of introduction are from the Treasury Department," said -Richards, laughing. "Now let us see whom the card is from." - -"I don't care whom the card is from. I know the man is crazy," -said Gourley, in the defiant tone of one who expects not logic, but -contradiction. "It is as plain as the nose on your face." - -"Maybe they are counterfeit," teased Richards; he knew they were not. - -The cashier snatched one from the desk, looked at the vignette of -Jackson, and examined the back. "It's good," he said, gloomily. - -Richards opened the eleventh envelope and took out a card. - -"From Amos Kidder, of the Evening Planet," he told Gourley, and read -aloud: - -_Dear George,--The bearer, Mr. James B. Robison, of Paris, France, a -friend of Smiley, our correspondent there, asked me to recommend some -highly intelligent stock-brokers. I, of course, at once thought of you. -Deal with him as you do with_ - -_Yours,_ - -_Amos F. Kidder._ - -"Maybe it's a set of those French books that are awful until you've -signed the contract and Volume I. comes, and they are not awful at all. -Those fellows," said the cashier, indignantly, "will do anything to get -your money." - -"You forget I've got his," suggested Richards. - -"That's a new one on me, I admit," said the cashier; "but I'll bet a -ten-spot--" - -"I'll have no gambling in this office! Send in Mr. Robison; and if -Kidder should happen in, tell him I'd like to see him." - -The waxed-mustached man, preceded by Otto, the moon-faced clerk, entered -the private office of Mr. George B. Richards, who rose and smiled -pleasantly even as his keen eyes quickly inventoried Mr. Robison. - -"Mr. Richards?" twanged the stranger. That Yankee voice issuing from -between those unmistakably French mustaches made Richards start; and yet -the vague atmosphere of disquietude and suspicion that the ten letters -of introduction had created seemed to be dispelled by the man's Yankee -twang. It was so genuinely down-east that it humanized Mr. Robison and -made his eccentricity less eccentric. Also, the eyes gleamed not with -the fire of insanity, but with a great earnestness. - -"Yes. And this is Mr. Robison?" - -"Yes, sir!" Mr. Robison bowed very low, like a man who has lived abroad -many years. - -"Won't you be seated, sir?" - -"Thank you, sir." There was another bow of gratitude, and Mr. Robison -sat down by Richards's flat-topped desk. - -"What can we do for you, Mr. Robison?" asked Richards, amiably polite. -His course of action would be determined by the stranger's own words. - -"You can help me if you will." Mr. Robison spoke very earnestly, after -the manner of strong, self-reliant men when they ask for favors. - -"We shall be glad to if you will tell me how." - -"By being patient. That's how." - -Richards laughed uncertainly. Mr. Robison held up a hand as if to check -unseemly merriment and said, very seriously: - -"I have lived alone too long to be politic or diplomatic or evasive. I -wish to ask you a question." - -"Ask ahead," said Richards, with an encouraging recklessness. - -"Tell me, Mr. Richards--what is the most difficult thing in the world?" - -Mr. Robison was looking intently at the broker's face, as if he -particularly desired to detect any change in expression. This intentness -disconcerted Richards, who had at first intended to answer jocularly. He -now said, distinctly apologetic: - -"There are so many very difficult things!" - -"Yes, there are--a great many indeed. But of all things, which is by far -the most difficult?" His eyes held Richards's. - -"I shall have to think a little before I can answer that question." - -"Take all the time you wish!" and Mr. Robison leaned back in his chair, -his attitude somehow suggesting a Gibraltar-like ability to withstand a -three years' siege. - -It made Richards do much thinking very quickly: Here was a man who was -not crazy; who had lying on the desk a hundred thousand dollars in cash -to which he had not even casually referred; who probably intended to do -business that would prove a source of profit to the firm of Richards & -Tuttle. He might be a crank or a crook, but against either contingency -the firm could and would protect itself. It was just as well to humor -this man until he proved himself unworthy of humoring. The problem of -the moment, therefore, became how to raise the siege politely. - -"I suppose," began Richards, trying to look philosophical, "that telling -the truth always and every-, where is about as difficult a thing as--" - -"It isn't a question," interrupted Robison, with a polite regret, "of as -difficult a thing as any, but of the most difficult of all!" - -"I am afraid I'll have to ask you to tell me what you consider the most -difficult thing in the world." - -Brokers have to earn their money in more complicated ways than by -shouting "Sold!" or "Take it!" on the floor of the Stock Exchange. They -have to listen to potential customers. - -"The most difficult thing in the world, Mr. George B. Richards, is for -a man to give money--in cash--to a woman who is not his wife or his -mistress or a blood-relation or a pauper!" - -"That _is_ difficult!" acquiesced the broker. - -"It is what I have to do. That is why I am here." - -"You mean you wish us to give this money--" - -"No--no! How can you, pray, give money to a lady any better than I?" - -"I wondered," said Richards, patiently. He was beginning to fear that -Robison might be one of those mysterious people out of whom no money is -to be made. - -"Would you mind hearing my story?" Mr. Robison looked at Richards -pleadingly. - -"Not at all," politely lied the broker. - -"There is a lady in New York--to be explicit, an old sweetheart--" Mr. -Robison paused, bit his lip, looked away, bit his lip again and cleared -his throat loudly. He did all these things so untheatrically that they -thrilled the keen-eyed Wall Street man. Presently Mr. Robison went on -in that Yankee nasal voice of his that somehow sounded like the extreme -antithesis of sentiment: "The only woman I ever loved! I have never -married! She did--unfortunately; and now, this girl, this woman, -accustomed to every comfort and every refinement, has to earn her own -living! She has five children and she is earning her living!" He rose -and walked up and down the office like a caged wild animal. Then he -sat down again and said, determinedly, "Of course I simply have to do -something for her!" - -"I appreciate your position," said Richards, tenderly. He was a very -good stock-broker. - -"Thank you. You cannot imagine what she was to me! I came to America to -find her. I have found her. I wish to give her money or securities that -will insure a comfortable income, and I have to do it circuitously. I'd -give half a million to anybody who killed her damned husband! Yes, I -would!" He looked at Richards with a wild hope in his eyes. He calmed -himself with an obvious effort and proceeded: "Knowing her as I do, and -because of--of certain circumstances of our early affair, I know she -will never accept any help directly from me. Last night I was calling -on her. Other friends of hers were present, among them a man who called -himself a lawyer. His name is W. Bailey Jackson. Know him?" - -"No, I don't. I think I've heard of him, though." Richards lied from -sheer force of professional habit. - -"Well, I led the conversation round to Wall Street and incidentally said -I didn't know which was easier for a man, to be a fool or to make money -in the stock-market. I, myself, I hastened to add, had always found -folly extremely easy--but successful stock speculation infinitely -easier. That, I may remark to you in passing, sir, is gospel truth." - -"You are right," agreed Richards, heartily. It did not behoove a -stock-broker to point out the difficulty of making money in Wall Street. -Moreover, Mr. Robison showed so quiet a confidence that Richards had -lightning flashes of memory, and recollected every story he had ever -heard about queer characters who had taken millions out of the Street. - -"This Mr. W. Bailey Jackson jeered and sneered, however, until I said I -would bet him fifty dollars to fifty cents that I could double a sum -of money in the Street in one week, in a reputable broker's office, -operating on the New York Stock Exchange in a reputable and active -stock--no bucket-shop, no mining-stock, and no pool manipulation. But -I made this point: The trick was so easy that it was not interesting. -I didn't wish to do it to make money, but if Mrs.--if my friend would -accept the profits, I would prove that I knew what I was talking about; -and, besides, would keep the children in candy for a month. And, of -course, everybody laughed and urged her to consent--especially the -Jackson person. In the end she gave in, doubtless thinking I'd win a few -dollars--if I won at all. Also my offer was accepted in the presence and -by the advice of men and women who could stop Mrs. Grundy's mouth." - -"Very clever!" said Richards, with the enthusiasm of a man who sees -commissions coming his way. - -"It was love that made me so ingenious," explained. Mr. Robison, very -simply. "I've got her written acceptance in my pocket as well as that -damned W. Bailey Jackson's bet, duly witnessed by the two gossipiest -women there. And in this envelope you will find instructions for your -guidance in case of my sudden death. So I now wish to double the money." - -He looked inquiringly at Richards, who thereupon felt the pangs of -disappointment. Neither crank nor crook, decided the broker, but simply -_Suckerius Americanus; genus_ D. F. - -Mr. Robison evidently was going to ask Richards & Tuttle to take the -one hundred thousand dollars and double it for him, which meant that Mr. -Richards would have to inform Mr. Robison that the firm was not in the -miracle business; and that would make Mr. Robison go away mad. Total--no -commissions! - -"Well," Richards said, just a trifle coldly, "did you come to us to ask -us to double your money for you?" - -"No, indeed," answered Robison; "I came here to do it." - -"When?" - -"In one week--or, rather, in five days and two hours." - -"How are you going to do it?" The broker's curiosity was not feigned. - -"I propose to study the Menagerie." - -Richards said nothing, but looked "Lunatic!" - -"That way inevitably suggests the combinations to you." Mr. Robison -nodded to himself. - -Richards, to be on the safe side, did likewise and muttered, absently, -"That's so!" - -"Do you care to come with me?" asked Mr. Robison, with a politeness that -betrayed effort. "Thank you, no. I am very busy, and--" - -"And you didn't cut me short!" said Robison, his voice ringing with -remorse. "I'll come in tomorrow morning. Good afternoon--and please -forgive my theft of your time, Mr. Richards." - -"One moment. Do you wish this money--" - -"I'll get the receipt to-morrow. I am going to see Kidder now. I didn't -mean to take up so much of your time." And before the banker could stop -him Mr. James B. Robison was out of the inner office and out of the -outer office and out of the building and out of the financial district. - -Shortly afterward Amos F. Kidder, financial editor of the _Evening -Planet_, west into Richards's office. He was thirty-five years old, a -trifle under six feet, had light-brown hair and the eyes of a man who -is a cynic by force of experience and an optimist by reason of a perfect -liver--the kind of man who is fooled by strangers never and by intimate -friends always. If what he had seen of Wall Street gave him a low -opinion of men's motives he had the defect of steadfast loyalty. Having -imagination and a profound respect for statistics, he wrote what might -be called skilful articles on finance. - -"Your friend Robison was here to-day. What do you know about him?" asked -Richards. He would not take a stranger's account, but he did not relish -losing an account he already had. - -Kidder took a letter from his pocket, gave it to the stock-broker, and -said: - -"Smiley gave him a letter to me and in addition sent me that one by -mail." - -Richards read: - -The New York Planet, 5 Rue de Provence. - -Paris, February 18, 1912. - -_Dear Kidder,--I've given a letter of introduction to a Mr. James B. -Robison, who comes originally from some manufacturing town in -Massachusetts, like Lynn or Lowell--I've forgotten which. He is well -liked by the colony here and, I am told, has been kind to poor art -students and other self-deluded compatriots. He is queer; is suspected -of being rich--which he must be because he never borrows, lives well, -and says moneymaking is too easy to merit discussion when men can -discuss the eternal feminine or the revival of cosmetics. His trip to -New York is prompted, he tells me, by the receipt of a letter from an -old flame of his whom he warned against marrying her present husband. -She would not listen to Robison, accused him in choice Bostonian of -being a short sport, and now after long years she writes him, asking for -forgiveness, being at last convinced that her husband is all that -Robison said--and then some. He is off to try to find her; she is -somewhere in New York. Put him in touch with some private detective who -won't rob him too ruthlessly._ - -_I don't think he'll want to borrow money, as I know he is taking a -letter of credit on Towne, Ripley & Co. for fifty thousand pounds; and -they told me at his bankers'--Madison & Co.--that he owns slathers of -gilt-edged bonds and that they cash the coupons for him. They also tell -me he carries more cash about him than is prudent. You might suggest -to him that the New York banks are safe enough. You'll find him a -character--odd but charitable. Knowing your fondness for fiction in real -life I commend Mr. Robison to you. Regards to the boys. Why don't you -make a million and come over to spend it in the company of Yours as -ever,_ - -Lurton P. Smiley. - -Richards handed the letter back. "He came here with ten -ten-thousand-dollar gold certificates." - -"Yes; he got 'em from Towne, Ripley & Co. I went with him. They had -instructions to pay any amount he might call for, and they did. He asked -for large bills." - -"He got 'em!" said Richards, greatly relieved at seeing no necessity why -he should refuse Robison's account. - -"What's he going to do?" asked Kidder. - -"I don't know. He told me he had found his old sweetheart and that he is -going to give her all he makes in Wall Street. He expects to double the -one hundred thousand dollars in a week." - -"For Heaven's sake, George, find out his secret! Half a million will do -for me," laughed Kidder. - -"He gave me an envelope," said Richards, taking it from his desk. On it -was written: - - -PROPERTY OF JAMES B. ROBISON - -To be Opened by Richards & Tuttle In Case of Sudden Death - - -"What do you think?" asked Richards. - -"You really mean do I advise you to open it, don't you?" asked Kidder.. - -"Not exactly; but--" - -"Of course," said the newspaper man, "it does not say it is _not_ to -be opened in case of _living_. That is sufficient excuse--that and your -curiosity." - -"I don't like to open it," said Richards, doubtfully. - -"Don't!" - -"Still, I'd like to know what's inside." - -"Then open it." - -"I don't think I have a right to." - -"Don't, then!" - -"Oh, shut up! I won't open it! I don't know whether to take the account. -You don't know anything about this man--" - -"You broker fellows make me tired--posing as careful business men. All -Robison has to do is to go to any of your branch offices or anybody's -branch office, say his name is W. Jones and that he keeps a cigar-store -in Hackensack or Flatbush, and your branch manager will never let him -get away. And afore-mentioned manager will swear, if you should be -so mean as to ask who W. Jones is, that he and W. J. went to school -together--known him for years!" - -"After all," said Richards, a trifle defiantly, "there is no reason why -I shouldn't do business for Robison that you know of?" - -"Not that I know of--but if he buncoes you out of a big wad don't blame -me." - -"He is welcome to anything he can make out of us," smiled Richards, -grimly, and Kidder laughed so heartily that the broker looked pleased -with himself and his witticism. He rang for the cashier, gave him the -one hundred thousand dollars, and had the amount credited to James B. -Robison, address unknown. - - - -II - -After leaving the office of Richards & Tuttle Mr. James B. Robison -went to the Subway station at Wall Street, rode up-town as far as -Forty-second Street, walked to Sixth Avenue, took a surface car, jumped -off at Forty-eighth, walked to Forty-ninth, waited there for the next -car, and, being certain he was not shadowed, rode on to Fifty-sixth -Street. He got off, walked north on the avenue and, half-way up the -block, paused at the entrance of the employment agency of "_Jno. -Sniffens, Established 1858_." On the big slate by the door he read that -there was wanted a coachman--careful driver; elderly man preferred. - -He walked up-stairs one flight and accosted the agent. - -"Good morning, Sniffens." - -"Good morning, Mr. Maynard," answered Sniffens, son of the original -Jno., very obsequiously. - -"Are they here?" - -"Yes, sir." - -"How many?" - -"Seven." - -"I've seen fifty-six so far--haven't I?" - -"No, sir," contradicted Sniffens with the air of a man who will tell the -truth even if death should resuit. "Fifty-five. You forget you saw the -Swede twice." - -"That is true, Sniffens. You are an honest man! Here!" And he gave ten -dollars to the agent. "Send in the men." - -He sat down in the inner office and Sniffens went out, presently to -return with an elderly man. "This is Wilkinson--worked twenty-nine -years--" - -"Sorry. Won't do. Here, my man! Take this two-dollar bill for your -trouble. Next!" - -Much the same thing happened with the next four applicants. The fifth -man, however, made Robison listen patiently while Sniffens finished his -elaborately biographical introduction. The man's name was Thomas Gray; -age fifty-eight; worked twelve years for General James Morris and -fourteen for Stuyvesant R. Morris. Very careful. Excellent references. -Morris family went abroad to live. Gray had not done anything for five -years, but was willing and anxious to work. - -Robison, who had been studying Gray keenly, said sharply, and not at all -nasally: - -"Height and weight?" - -"Five foot eleven and a half inches; one hundred and seventy pounds, -sir." - -"Deaf?" - -"No, sir." - -"No?" - -"No, sir; but I don't hear as well as I did." - -"Can you hear this?" And Robison whispered, "Constantinople!" - -"Beg pardon, sir!" Gray looked at Mr. Robison's face intently, but -Robison shook his head and said: - -"No fair looking! That isn't hearing, but lipreading. Close your eyes -and listen!" And he whispered, "Bab-el-Mandeb!" No one could have heard -him three feet away and Gray was across the room. Robison raised his -voice and said, "Did you hear that?" - -There showed in Gray's blue eyes a pathetic struggle between telling the -truth and getting the job. "I--I only heard a faint murmur, sir." - -"Try again. Listen!" Mr. Robison moved his lips soundlessly and asked, -"What did I say, Gray?" The old man drew in a deep breath. It was not so -much the money, for the Morris family gave him a pension; but he wished -to feel that he was not yet useless, that he was still worth his keep. -However, he shook his head and said, determinedly: - -"I heard nothing." - -"Open your eyes! You get the job, Gray," said Mr. Robison. "Come here!" - -As Gray approached his new employer Sniffens left the room. - -"You are not to tell any one for whom you are working, or where, or why, -or for how long, or for what wages. There will be no night work. Are you -very careful?" - -"Yes, sir." - -"You'll have to take some children to school every day--poor children to -a public school in the morning. You are not to ask their names. Do what -you are told, no matter how queer it seems to you, so long as you are -not asked to break the law of the land or the rules of the road." - -"Very good, sir." - -"I shall send people to ask you questions, and I warn you that I'm going -to put you to various tests. I want a man who is honest enough to trust -with valuables, wise enough to mind his own business, and faithful -enough to do what his employer tells him." - -"Yes, sir." - -"Until you prove you are the man I want you will be paid by the -day--five dollars. You will feed yourself and sleep home. I supply -the livery and a second man. If after one month's trial you are found -satisfactory you will get your wages by the month. It's big wages, but I -want an honest man!" He looked at Gray sternly. - -"Yes, sir. I'm careful and honest, sir. I think you will find that to be -true, sir." - -"I trust so. The stable is on Thirty-first Street, near Avenue B. Here -is the number." He gave a card to Gray. "Be there at eight sharp. You -will drive a coupé; quiet horse; New York City." - -"Yes, sir. I'll be there, sir." - -"Here's five dollars for you. You don't have to pay any fee to Sniffens. -I've paid him." - -"Thank you, sir. Good day, sir." - -At seven-thirty the next morning Gray was at the stable. It was not -a very good-looking place. He rang the bell, feeling vaguely -uncomfortable. No one answered. He rang a second and a third time, and -still there was no answer. He listened, his ear close to the door. He -heard the muffled sound of a horse pounding in a well-littered stall. - -At eight o'clock--Gray heard a clock within chime the hour--the door -opened. Gray entered. A man was hitching up a dark bay horse to a coupé. -Mr. Robison was sitting in a sumptuous green-plush armchair in the -carriage-room. Behind him, on a mahogany table, was a small valise, -opened. - -"Good morning, Gray," said Robison. - -"Good morning, Mr. Maynard," said Gray, respectfully. - -Robison took a clean white-linen handkerchief from his pocket and said: - -"See that brick over there?" He pointed to a common red brick on a -little shelf near the street door. - -"Yes, sir." - -"Well, wrap it up in this handkerchief--here on this table. No--don't -dust it. Just as it is!" He watched Gray's face keenly. The old man's -countenance remained English and impassive. - -"Put it in the valise." - -"Yes, sir." - -"In yonder box you'll find some tenpenny nails. Fetch three and wrap -them up in the sheet of paper you'll find in the valise. Then lay them -on top of the brick." - -Gray did as he was bid. If he thought his employer was crazy he did not -look it. - -Robison then took from his pocket a sealed envelope, threw it into the -valise, and closed the valise. - -"You will find your livery in the dressing-room--door to your left. Put -it on. Then drive so as to be before 197 West Thirty-eighth Street at -exactly nine minutes after nine. Compare your watch with that clock. -Wait there--Thirty-eighth Street--until a footman in dark-green livery -comes out alone. If he asks you, 'James, did Ben win?' you will say -to him, 'The answer is inside. Take it!' You will then return to this -stable, fasten the horse to that chain, put on your street clothes, go -home, and return to-morrow at eight sharp. But--" He paused. - -"Yes, sir." - -"Pay attention, Gray! If, instead of the servant alone, the servant -comes out of, 197 West Thirty-eighth Street accompanied by a gentleman -who gets in, you will drive him to my office." - -"Where, sir?" - -"This is my office--here. You will drive back here quickly and disregard -everything your passenger may say or whatever orders he may give you. -You understand? These are your orders that I now give you. They are not -to be changed under any circumstances, no matter what happens. Have you -understood?" - -"Yes, sir. I'll follow orders, Mr. Maynard." - -"See that you do." And Mr. Robison walked out of the stable. - -At nine-nine sharp Gray stood in front of 197 West Thirty-eighth Street. -At nine-fifteen a footman in dark-green livery came out of the house. -He was followed by Mr. Robison himself. The man opened the door of the -carriage and Gray's employer got in. - -"Will you go to the office, sir?" asked the footman. Gray heard him. - -"No! Metropolitan Museum!" answered their master, distinctly. - -"Metropolitan Museum!" said the footman to the coachman. - -Gray was torn by doubt, anger, and fear. Should he drive to the -Metropolitan or back to the stable? - -He decided to go back to the stable. If he were discharged he would not -regret losing so unsatisfactory a job. If, on the other hand, driving -back should prove to be the right thing he would greatly strengthen his -position. - -He arrived at the stable, fastened the horse to the chain, and went to -change his clothes. He heard Mr. Robison tap on the glass of the door -and saw him beckon to him and then heard him shout, "Open the door!" But -Gray went to the dressing-room and changed his clothes. As soon as he -was done the second man came in, showed him two envelopes, and said: - -"You win! You get the ten dollars! I get the five-spot. That's how -he pays. You obeyed orders. You are the first man that's succeeded in -holding the job over one day. The Lord only knows what test Mr. Maynard -will prepare for you to-morrow! It may be the children's lunch stunt or -the runaway lunatic. Run out! Mr. Maynard won't like you to be here when -he comes in. You can go out into the street by that door without going -through the carriage-room." - -Gray put the ten dollars in his pocket and walked out. "Rum go, that!" -he muttered. It was indeed. He nodded his head with a sad sort of -triumph to show that though he had not solved the mystery he had at all -events grasped the situation and was, moreover, ten dollars to the good. - - - -III - -It was after the opening of the stock-market and most of the early -orders had been executed. The rush had given place to the calm -efficiency of a well-organized broker's office. Mr. Robison walked into -the Customers' Room, approached Gilbert Witherspoon, a valued customer, -touched his hat-brim with two fingers in the French military fashion, -and said: - -"Please, where's Mr. Richards?" His nasal twang and his Parisian -appearance produced the usual impression of striking incongruity upon -all men within hearing distance. Everybody frankly listened. - -"That's his private office," answered Witherspoon, non-committally, -pointing his finger at a door. - -"Thank you very much!" said Robison and bowed. Then he knocked, heard a -peremptory "Come in!" and disappeared within. - -Witherspoon, who cultivated a reputation as a wit--there is a buffoon in -every stock-broker's office--shrugged his shoulders Frenchily, and, in a -nasal voice obviously in imitation of Robison, said: - -"Another world-beater!" - -"You never can tell," retorted Dan McCormack, oracularly. He was fat, -always played "mysteries" in the market--traded in those stocks -the movements in which were unaccounted for--and he did not like -Witherspoon. - -Inside Mr. Robison had said "_Bon jour!"_ and bowed so very low that Mr. -Richards immediately thought of the language of a fashionable bill of -fare. - -"_Wie geht's?_" retorted Richards, jocularly. Then, nicely serious, -"How are you this morning?" - -"Don't I look it?" said Mr. Robison. "I am, of course, perplexed." - -"What's the trouble?" - -"The usual trouble when I try to beat the stock-market--_embarras de -richesses_." - -"It is an embarrassment that most people would welcome." - -"Tut! The more elaborate the menu is in a good restaurant the greater -your indecision as to which particular dish you will order! Well, I went -through the Menagerie!" There was a catarrhal despair in his voice. - -"Yes?" - -"And I am undecided between four." - -Robison looked anxiously at the broker, and Richards felt such an -annoyance as a man might feel if compelled at the point of a pistol to -listen to the reading of one hundred pages of the city directory. But he -smiled tolerantly, for he had the professional amiability indispensable -to men whose business consists of making money and of consoling clients -for losing money. - -"Four what?" he asked. - -"Four sure ways." - -"Which four?" asked Richards. He managed to convey both that he was -dying to listen and that the rest of the world did not exist for him. - -"The Ant, the Spider, the Beaver, and the Lion. Out of the nineteen -combinations in the Menagerie I've narrowed my choice to these four. You -know conditions better than I and probably have seen the Cribbage Board. -Have you a choice?" He looked at Richards so eagerly, and withal so -shrewdly and sanely, that in self-defense the broker said: - -"I can't say that I have. Of course I am bullish--" - -"Of course. But the question is: Which--in a week?" - -Richards had no idea what was meant by this man with the sane eyes who -said crazy things through his nose--a man who had one hundred thousand -dollars to his credit with the firm. Perplexed to the verge of -exasperation, Richards was stock-broker enough--when in doubt, -bluff!--to say, with a frown, "Yes, that's the question: Which--in a -week?" He shook his head as though he were trying to pick out the best -for his beloved Robison. - -"I never was so puzzled in my life, and I want you to know that I've -made money even in Rumanian bonds!" - -"I'm afraid I can't help you much." - -"What does the I. S. Board say?" - -"Mr. Robison, exactly what do you mean by the I. S. Board?" - -"What? You don't know the International Syndicate Cribbage Board! Then -how in Hades do you pick your combinations?" - -"We buy and sell stocks on our judgment of basic conditions or for -special reasons." - -"Ah, yes--like the public. You base your trades on gas and guess. Well, -_I_ don't! I'd play the Ant, but I don't see the Granary full in a week. -Jay Gould had a perfect mania for it; it was an obsession with him. And -yet he seldom won commensurately with his risks. In the Northwest corner -he was tied up over a year and lost more than a million. I guess we'll -dispense with the Ant, though it looks so safe for the Granger group." - -Robison seemed to be thinking aloud rather than asking for advice. But -Richards, who was a Wall Street man to his finger-tips, said, gravely, -"I think you are right." - -Robison nodded, to show he had heard, and went on: "The situation in the -Pacific Coast, of course, suggests the Beaver at once. I can see the -Dam in Union Pacific; but I don't like to try it so soon after the -Rothschilds worked it so openly in Berlin over the Agadir excuse. Too -many people who have access to the Menagerie remember it. I realize all -this, but," he finished, with profound regret, "it _is_ such a cinch!" - -"Yes. But--" Richards shook his head in sympathy. He felt that he ought -to humor this man; moreover, business was quiet, and this man was -saying incomprehensible things that would be repeated by Richards, with -sensational success, at luncheons and dinners for weeks. - -"Of course, the Spider is the oldest stand-by. Personally I never liked -it. In the Governor Flower boom and, indeed, up to the Northern Pacific -panic, its popularity was due to John W. Gates. But do you know, Mr. -Richards, I have always believed that in the first two Steel and Wire -coups and in the Louisville & Nashville affair, Gates hit upon it by -accident. Else," pursued Mr. Robison, controversially, "why was he -pinched so badly in 1901 and again in 1907? He hit upon it, after he got -out of Federal Steel, by accident, I tell you! He was a man of genius -and courage, but it was all instinct with him. He was no student, -sir--no student!" - -"I've always said," observed Mr. George B. Richards, "that Gates was not -a student!" He glared, thereby successfully defying contradiction. - -"It leaves the Lion!" muttered Robison. "Should I try it? And which -Peg?" - -"I'd try it!" counseled Richards, who was not only intelligent, but had -a sense of humor. - -"Would you, really?" - -"Yes, I certainly would!" And the broker looked as if he certainly meant -it. - -"It's the Dutch favorite," said Robison, musingly. "And they are a very -clever people. You know Van Vollenhoven in his book says that once a -year, for thirteen consecutive years, the great Cornelius Roelofs, of -Amsterdam, made a million gulden in London by the Lion--the most hopeful -pessimist in the history of stock speculation! It comes easy to the -phlegmatic Hollanders, but Americans are too nervous to take kindly to -it. I once begged the late Addison Cammack to join me in a Lion deal, -but he didn't. He was not very well at the time. Anyhow, he was too -American." - -"Did you know him?" - -"Like a book! Dangerous man to follow! Cynicism sounds impressive, but -is wind. You don't win in the stock-market with catch phrases, but with -combinations." - -"Do you use charts?" - -"A stock speculator is not a navigator, but all commission-houses should -have a chart. With some customers, after you have exhausted every other -invitation, you can use the chart to get them trading. But not for us, -Mr. George B. Richards. I think you will soon realize that I am in this -affair not to lose money, but to make it. I shall, therefore, either -buy Dock Island, sell Middle Pacific, buy National Smelting, or sell -Consolidated Steel. I'll have a pad of special order-slips made so you -will not mistake my orders for those of any one else. You will execute -for me no order that is not written and signed by me on such a slip. -I'll keep up my margin. We'll operate on a ten-per-cent, basis; and -I hereby authorize you to sell me out when my margin is down to six -points. That gives you ample safety. It is really unnecessary, as I -never lose; but I always protect the broker. The sudden death by heart -disease of Baron Lespinasse in 1883 sent into bankruptcy the great -firms of La Croissade et Cie. and Mayer, Dreyfus et Cie., of Paris, -Ver-brugghe Frères, of Brussels, and about a dozen smaller houses. Mine, -to be sure, is a trifling operation, designed to supply a modest income -to an old flame. But I may--who knows?--decide to take a few millions -back with me. And your firm, Mr. Richards, will be my principal -brokers." - -Mr. Robison said this so impressively, so much as though he had made the -firm of Richards & Tuttle rich beyond the dreams of avarice, that George -B. found it easy to look grateful as he said, "Thank you, Mr. Robison." -It would be worth while watching this mysterious man, to see, first, if -he made money; and if he did, how! - -"I'll write it here and now. If my margins are down to six points at any -time close me out, for I shall have been mistaken, which is a sign I've -gone crazy; or I shall be dead, in which case protect yourself!" - -Mr. Robison wrote out the instructions, signed them, and gave them -to Mr. Richards. He must have noticed a look of uncertainty or -dissatisfaction on the broker's face, for he said: - -"I have no desire to pose before you as an unfailing winner, though I -assure you I seldom lose. It is not brains, but carefulness. If you -know nothing about the International Syndicate's information collecting -machinery, why, just take my word for it that there are people in this -world who don't work on the hit-or-miss plan. We don't eliminate all -possibilities of failure; we merely reduce them to a negligible minimum. -We cannot prevent all accidents, but we can and do foresee some of them. -This sounds crazy to you, I know--no, don't deny it!--but all I can say -is that your natural suspicions don't affect your kindness and courtesy, -and I am more grateful than I can say. Of course, my own operations -here will be conducted with your approval, in strict accordance with the -rules of the New York Stock Exchange." - -"Oh, I am sure I haven't doubted your sanity," said the broker, who had -been much reassured by Mr. Robison's look of frankness and earnestness -as he spoke. "I have merely suspected the depths of my own ignorance." - -"Your retort is both kind and clever. I thank you. I shall have to -borrow one of your clerks or office-boys between nine-forty and ten a. -m., to whom I may give my orders to bring to this office, and also ask -you to recommend to me some young man who is intelligent but honest, -wide awake but deaf to the ticker." - -"I beg your pardon?" - -"I shall need a young man who can watch certain developments and at the -crucial moment will hasten to me without stopping on the way to take -advantage in the stock-market of what he has learned while working for -me." - -"I shall let you have one of my own clerks. He'll do as he is told." - -"That is not always to be taken as praise--but I thank you. There will -be some telegrams come for me. Will you kindly see that they are held? -Good morning!" And he left the room. - -An hour later cablegrams and telegrams by the dozen began to come in for -Robison, care Richards & Tuttle. But Robison did not return to the -office until after the close of the stock-market. - -"Any messages?" he asked Richards. - -"Not over a hundred!" answered the broker, smilingly. He felt less -suspicious after the telegrams began to arrive; they were tools he -understood. - -"I used the Triple Three," explained Robison, opening telegram after -telegram; the cables he seemed to leave for the last. The telegrams -were, as Richards later ascertained, from San Francisco, Seattle, -Tacoma, Los Angeles, Salt Lake City, Vancouver, and other points west of -the Rockies. Each contained but one word, but always the word ended in -"less," such, for example, as Headless, Toothless, Tailless, Nerveless. -All were signed in the same way, to wit: Three-Three-Three. - -"No Beaver! I'm just as glad," Robison mused aloud and took up the -cablegrams. They were from London, Paris, Berlin, Frankfort, and -Amsterdam. They were in code, but he seemed to have the key by heart. -The very last one made him thoughtful. - -He handed the cablegram absently to Richards and said, "The Lion after -all--and artificial at that!" He seemed to be lost in thought, oblivious -of his whereabouts, as Richards read: - -Robison, care Richtut: - -Mogulgar wind Lloyd Vast Nigger Shaw twice home urban sweet Edward. - -"Code, hey?" - -"Lion! Oh! Code, did you say? No. Code is too risky. Plain reading! Of -course I have more practice than you. Give it to one of your office-boys -to decipher. If he succeeds give him fifty dollars and charge it to my -account. But what I can't tell is the politics of it. Is it collusion, -philanthropy, or fear? Is it wise? After all, the unusual is not -necessarily dangerous. I shall double my money within four days and you -will make the commissions in a perfectly simple, legitimate way; and -you will think I am a pretty sane lunatic; and you will respect me for -having such sources of information; and if I can induce Mrs. Le--my -friend to take it, I'll make a million for her in a month, and you will -get the benefits accruing from having the market named after you--a -Richards & Tuttle market, the papers will call it. Thank you very much -for your kindness. I'll be down to-morrow before the opening. Good day, -sir!" - -And Mr. Robison left the office with a calm, confident look in his -face. Richards gazed after him, a look of perplexity on his own face. -Presently he shook his head. It meant that he gave up efforts to solve -the puzzle, but that he would wait until commissions began. - - - -IV - -From Richards & Tuttle's office Robison went to the nearest Western -Union office and gave a letter to the manager. - -"Send this at once! City editor, _Evening World_, Park Row. No answer. -How much?" - -The manager told him. Robison paid him and then went to the -Postal-Telegraph office and sent a message to the city editor, _Evening -Journal_. Inside of each envelope was a letter. Both read alike, as -follows: - -_Dear Sir,--Three years ago one of your reporters did me a good turn. -In return I promised to tip him off if ever I came across a big piece of -news. He saved me from being wrongly sent to state prison. Things looked -pretty black for me, though I was not guilty. I've forgotten his name. -He looked to be twenty-eight or thirty years old, about five foot -ten, not very heavy-built, smooth-shaven, dark-brown hair, and wore -eyeglasses. He had on a dark-blue serge suit and was always smoking -cigarettes. It happened on Chambers Street, not far from the Irving -Bank. Ask him if he remembers my promise to pay him back for being -good to me. Here is where I do it. Mr. W. H. Garrettson, the banker and -promoter, is going to be kidnapped. The plans are all made. He will be -held for one hundred million dollars ransom, and no harm will come to -him, because he will be sure to pay._ - -_Don't warn the police of this, because the other papers would get it -and you would lose your scoop. You can warn Garrettson if you wish, -but it will be useless, as in that event we should wait until vigilance -relaxes, as it will surely do. Please do not think this is a crazy -yan! Don't print anything now. Simply be ready, with photographs of -Garrettson, his home, art-gallery, bank, list of his promotions, -and corporations controlled by him, and so on. Keep this letter for -reference, and just before you throw it into the waste-basket remember -this: It costs you nothing; it commits you to nothing, involves no -expense; there is no concealed dynamite and no fool joke. Remember my -writing and my signature, and wait for the tip I shall send you if I -possibly can, so that you alone publish the news._ - -_Grateful Friend._ - -The city editors thought it was a crank's letter and threw it away, but -each made a mental note--in case! Also they did not "tip off" anybody. -They afterward stated that they said nothing to Garrettson, because if -they acted on every freak missive they received half the city would not -sleep. They thus were ready for the kidnapping of the great Garrettson. - -At nine-forty-five on Tuesday morning Mr. James B. Robison, accompanied -by an office-boy and an order-pad on which was printed "From J. B. R., -for Richards & Tuttle," went to the Broad Street entrance of the New -York Stock Exchange. His gaze was fixed steadily on the Subtreasury, or -so it seemed to the office-boy. At nine-fifty-two he exclaimed: "There -he is!" - -The office-boy, Sweeney, looking in the same direction, saw nothing -but hurrying pedestrians and a carriage or two. Robison seemed so -disappointed that the office-boy out of kindness asked, sympathetically, -"Who, sir?" - -"Nobody!" answered Mr. Robison, shortly. "Go back to the office and tell -Mr. Richards to send me the clerk he promised me--the clerk with the -ticker deafness, tell him. I'll wait here." - -The boy left and presently returned with one of the bookkeepers. - -"Here is Mr. Manley," the office-boy told Mr. Robison. - -"Thank you. Here is something for you, my boy. Go back to the office." - -The office-boy put the five-dollar bill in his pocket, said "Thank you" -in a voice celestial, and hurried away before the crazy Frenchman with -the Cape Cod voice discovered the size of the tip. To Manley, the clerk, -Mr. Robison said: - -"Look across the street--W. H. Garrettson & Co. You can see Mr. -Garrettson by the window. See him?" - -"Yes, sir." - -"Well, just you stay here and watch him; and if you see him do anything -unusual or if anything happens in Garrettson's office that you think -strange, run to our office and let me know. I'll be waiting for you. -Don't be afraid to say so if you think something unusual is going on, -because I tell you now that Mr. Garrettson never does anything unusual." - -"Yes, sir." - -"Now what would you call unusual?" - -"What would you?" - -"If a bareheaded man came out of the office, stood at the head of -the steps and threw an egg into the middle of the street, I'd call it -unusual." - -"So would I." - -"Especially if I went up to the smashed egg and found the insides were -of ink. It might be red ink or black." - -"That would be queer!" - -"Exactly. You watch. Go to lunch at twelve-thirty and be back at one. -Remember! Watch closely, and if anything unusual happens look carefully -and then come and tell me. Here's ten dollars for you." - -"Thank you, sir." - -"It's only a beginning," smiled Mr. Robison, promisingly. - -Manley, the clerk, put the money in his pocket and began to think he -might be able to buy the motorboat next spring if this business kept up. - -Between what Sweeney, the office-boy, suspected aloud and what Manley, -the clerk, confirmed the office force of Richards & Tuttle discussed Mr. -Robison with the zest of the deciding baseball game. - -Richards had confided to his intimates some of his experiences, and Amos -Kidder, the _Evening Planet_ man, was as interested in the mystery as -if he had not been the man who first let loose the flood of surmise by -introducing Robison to the brokers. - -Nothing happened on Tuesday more exciting than keeping tally on -the telegrams and cables received by Mr. Robison, which amounted to -thirty-seven in all. The object of so much conjecture--and hero of -the office-boy's improvised dime novel--spent the day in an arm-chair -looking at the blackboard, making elaborate calculations that convinced -other customers he must be a "chart fiend." At three o'clock sharp he -went home. - -He stopped long enough to send by messenger-boy a letter to the city -editor of the _Evening World_ and another to the city editor of the -_Evening Journal._ They bore the same message and said: - -_Refer to my letter of yesterday. To-night W. H. Garrettson goes to the -opera to see "The Jewels of the Madonna." He will leave the Metropolitan -in his automobile. In it will be his wife, his daughter, and his friend, -Harry Willett. And he will not arrive at his house--Lexington Avenue -and Thirty-eighth Street. Somewhere between the Opera House and his -residence he will vanish! It will be the most mysterious kidnapping -on record. Follow the Garrettson motor and have your reporters watch -carefully._ - -_Grateful Friend._ - -Whatever the city editors may have intended to do in the matter is of no -consequence, because at seven o'clock messages were received as follows: - -_Kidnapping of W. H. G. postponed. Will keep you posted._ - -_Grateful Friend._ - - - -V - -At nine-forty-five on Wednesday morning Mr. James B. Robison entered -the office of Richards & Tuttle, sought the senior partner, and said: - -"I shall both buy and sell Con. Steel--or possibly sell first and buy -later. The order clerk knows about my printed slips. The orders will go -to you first. If at any time you are worried about margin, remember to -tell me at once, because, as you know, I have not yet used half of my -letter of credit; and, besides, the cables are working. I'd like to see -Amos Kidder." - -"He's in his office." - -"Would you mind having some one telephone to him? Thank you." - -Mr. Robison promptly left the office, followed by his faithful attendant -Sweeney, the office-boy. They took their stand just north of the Broad -Street entrance of the Stock Exchange. - -It was not long before Amos Kidder, of the _Evening Planet_, who -had received the message, found Mr. Robison in the act of gazing -unblinkingly toward the Subtreasury. - -"Good morning, Mr. Robison." - -Mr. Robison started as if he had been rudely awakened out of a profound -reverie. - -"Oh! Kidder! How d'ye do? Ah, yes! Ah--I'd like you to dine with me and -a few friends--interesting people. You will--don't be offended!--you -will learn why all newspaper articles on the stock-market arouse mirth -among the people who pull the wires. What do you say?" - -"I say," replied Kidder, with a good-natured smile, "just this: When and -where?" His smile ceased. Mr. Robison had turned his back on his friend. -Kidder heard a nasal mumble and made out: - -"Here in eight minutes." - -"What do you mean?" - -"I shall learn if the Lion ate the man or if it's a case of another -day." - -"Mr. Robison, I don't understand--" - -"I beg your pardon. I was thinking of the old man who was seen in a -front seat at the circus every day. They asked him what he found so -interesting, and he said that some day the lion would eat the man and he -wanted to be a spectator. Well, one day he was sick. That day the lion -ate the lion-tamer. Well, I am here waiting to see Garrettson come out -of the cage." - -"Garrettson?" - -"The great W. H. Garrettson! I am planning a campaign in Con. Steel. -Garrettson's health is important. I must consider the state of his liver -as carefully as the condition of the iron trade, because it is not only -a question of the dividend rate, but of the price per share--not alone -an investment, but a speculation. You can't lose all your mills -and furnaces in one minute and you can't destroy all your customers -overnight; but Garrettson can die in a second!" - -"Of course that contingency has been provided for. His firm would -undoubtedly be on the job." - -"So would the undertaker. As a matter of fact everything to-day depends -upon the character of Garrettson's life. Have you ever stopped to think -of how much depends upon the character of his death?" - -"All deaths are alike. You talk like a novelist unaware of the resources -of a firm like Garrettson's." - -"And you talk like a plain ass or a bank president, my boy. Is there -no difference to the stock-market between the death of Garrettson by -pneumonia and his death by lynching at the hands of a thousand indignant -fellow-citizens? Stop and think." - -"Oh, well, that will never happen." - -"I cannot swear that it will, but you cannot guarantee that it never -will. Stranger things have come to pass. By Jingo! it's three minutes to -ten! Would it not be curious if something had happened?" - -"How do you mean?" - -"I have studied the great Garrettson and his habits, that I may, in -my operations in Con. Steel, know on what to bank and against what to -guard. He leaves his Lexington Avenue house every morning at nine and -arrives at his office not later than nine-fifty. He is like the clock. -All his life he has come down-town in his coupé, driven by a coachman -who has been in his employ thirty years. In this age of novelties -that old-fashioned coupé suggests a stability and solid respectability -comparable to _Founded 1732!_ on a firm's letter-head. However, just as -the wireless has introduced a new element into maritime life, so has the -automobile changed the character of street traffic. Do you remember the -case of James M. Barrier, the famous sculptor, smashed in his taxicab -on his way to his studio? You remember the insurance advertisements, -and how he carried a two-hundred-and-seventeen-thou-sand-dollar accident -policy? Well, it's ten o'clock. In one minute, if Garrettson is not -here, I shall sell short one thousand shares of Con. Steel. For each -delay of one minute, one thousand shares." - -Robison looked impressive, but the newspaper man was unimpressed. - -"You'll have the pleasure of covering when he arrives as usual. Your -operation is of the kind that sounds wise." - -"How much do I stand to lose by covering, say, in a few minutes? A -fraction! How much do I stand to gain if something has happened? Five -or ten points! It's a fifty-to-one shot. I'll take it every time. Here, -boy, rush this to the office and hurry back. Tell Mr. Richards I shall -need another boy besides you, for a few minutes only." - -Young Sweeney hurried away with Robison's order to sell one thousand -shares of Con. Steel "at the market." - -"There are men who will risk money on the shadow cast by a human hair," -observed Kidder, pleasantly. "In assuming that disaster has overtaken -Garrettson--" - -"I assume nothing. I know that something unusual has happened! What -the nature of it is I know not--nor whether it is capitalizable, sight -unseen. Here, boy!" Sweeney had returned with a colleague and Robison -sent the new boy back with an order to sell two thousand shares of -Steel. Watch in hand, Robison stood staring unblinkingly toward the -north. Kidder also looked up Nassau Street, expecting and--such, alas, -is human nature!--hoping to see Garrettson's familiar coupé. - -"Here, boy!" And Robison sent off another selling-order. He kept this up -until he had put out a short line of ten thousand shares. - -At ten-fifteen he said to Kidder: - -"Let us go over to Garrettson's office. His nonarrival is news, Kidder." - -"He may have stopped on the way to do some shopping--" - -"Well, that's a story! Any deviation from the normal is, even though it -may not be tragedy. The delay may mean--" - -"Nothing whatever," finished Kidder, a trifle exultingly. "There comes -Garrettson's carriage. I guess you'd better cover!" - -And the _Planet_ man laughed. - -"Kidder, you'll never be rich! Of course I shall not cover until I know -the reason for the delay. Make haste! I ought to take a good look at his -face. I want to see how he looks and notice how he walks up the steps -to the office. One glimpse of Harriman getting off the train once put a -cool quarter of a million in my pocket." - -"Stocks went up when he died. People sold them thinking--" - -"When you know a man is dying and you know that the rabble doesn't know -it, you don't always sell stocks short, Kidder," anticipated Robison, -with a gentle smile. - -"Hello!" said Kidder, and ran forward. - -Robison followed. The coupé had stopped before the door of the banking -firm's offices. The herculean private policeman in gray had hastened -to open the door of the chief's carriage and had staggered back as if -horrified by what he had seen. - -"Murdered!" thought the newspaper man in a flash. "What a story!" - -The policeman turned an alarmed face toward the coachman and asked: - -"Where's Mr. Garrettson?" - -"What!" Lyman, the coachman, who had been in Garrettson's employ -thirty-odd years, turned livid. He stared blankly at the big man in the -gray uniform. - -"He isn't here!" said Allcock, the policeman. Kidder and Robison heard -him. - -The coachman looked into the coupé. - -"Good God!" he muttered. - -"Are you sure he was inside?" asked Allcock. "Sure? Of course! There's -the newspapers. Look at the cigar-ashes on the floor." - -"Did you see him get in?" persisted the policeman. "Of course I saw him! -I heard him call to the footman, who was going back to the house without -leaving the newspapers." - -"And you didn't stop anywhere?" - -"No. I was delayed a little at Twelfth Street and Fourth Avenue, and -again--" - -"Are you sure he didn't jump off?" - -"What would he be jumping off for?" queried the old coachman, irritably. -"And wouldn't I have heard the door slam? I can't account for it! My -God! Where's Mr. Garrettson? Where is he? Where is he?" He repeated -himself like one distraught. - -"Could he have jumped out without your knowing it?" queried Kidder. - -"Shut up, Jim. That's a reporter!" the policeman warned the coachman. -"Wait here and I'll tell Mr. Jenkins." - -The private policeman rushed into the bank, and rushed out, followed by -William P. Jenkins, junior partner of W. H. Garrettson & Company. - -"What is all this about?" Mr. Jenkins, who had been speaking in a sharp -voice to the coachman, caught sight of Kidder. Nothing concerning Mr. -Garrettson's whereabouts could be discussed by or before newspaper men. - -"Come with me, James," Mr. Jenkins said, peremptorily, to the old -coachman. - -"Get on the job!" whispered Robison to Kidder. "Don't be bluffed. -You've got enough to raise the dickens if printed. It's the scoop of a -lifetime!" - -Amos Kidder nodded eagerly. He had ceased to think of Robison's -eccentricities and was occupied with the disappearance of the great -financier. He followed Jenkins and the coachman into the office, but -all efforts to listen to their colloquy were in vain. He could see -perturbation plainly printed on the face of Mr. Jenkins, for all that -Garrettson's junior partner was one of the master bluffers of Wall -Street and a consummate artist at poker. The newspaper man was, -moreover, fortunate enough to overhear Mr. Jenkins's private secretary -say: "Mrs. Garrettson says Mr. Garrettson left the house about -nine-twenty in the carriage, as usual. The butler saw him get in; the -footman helped him into the cab. She wanted to know what had happened. I -said, 'Nothing that I know of.'" - -Jenkins nodded approval of the typical financier's evasion and -hastened back to the private office, where the cross-examination of the -coachman--a man above suspicion--was carried on by the other partners. - -Amos Kidder had heard enough. He rushed out and, accompanied by the -patient Robison, telephoned to his office this bulletin: - -_W. H. Garrettson left his residence in Lexington Avenue near -Thirty-eighth Street this morning as usual in his coupé, driven by James -Lyman, his coachman. Lyman, who has been in the employ of the family -from boyhood, declares positively that Mr. Garrettson got in as usual. -He was smoking one of his famous $2.17 cigars and had all the daily -newspapers. These and cigar-ashes were all that could be seen in the -coupé when it reached the Wills Building, at Broad and Wall streets, -where the offices of W. H. Garrettson & Company are. His partners are -unable to say where the multimillionaire promoter is to be found. Mrs. -Garrettson is equally positive that Mr. Garrettson left the house as -usual. The butler saw him get in. Nobody saw him get out. What makes -this remarkable is that Mr. Garrettson is punctuality itself and -not once in forty years has he failed to reach his office before ten -o'clock. His disappearance from the coupé is not thought to be a joke; -but, on the other hand, there is no reason to apprehend a tragedy. "It -is mysterious--that's all," remarked a prominent Wall Street man; "and -mysteries are not always profitable in the stock-market!"_ - -"How long," inquired Robison, as Kidder came out of the telephone-booth, -"will it be before the _Evening Planet_, with your account of the -non-arrival of Garrettson, is out on the street?" - -"Well," said Kidder, looking a trifle important, "if it had been any one -else who telephoned a story of that importance time would be wasted in -verifying it, but my story ought to be out in five minutes!" - -"As quickly as that?" - -"Well, maybe seven minutes--but that," said Kidder, impressively, "would -be slow work for the _Evening Planet!_" - -"Amazing!" murmured Robison, in a congratulatory tone. "And did you make -it clear that there was no explanation for the non-arrival of--" - -"I said it had not been explained as yet. A man isn't kidnapped in broad -daylight in the city of New York--taken out of his own cab and -carried away. If conscious, he would have shouted to the coachman; if -unconscious, he would have attracted attention. It can't be done!" - -"No, it can't," agreed Robison. "Nevertheless, it has been done." - -"How could--" - -"Kidder, the taxicab has introduced a new and easily utilizable -possibility into criminal affairs, against which the police cannot -yet protect the public. I can see one, two, three, five, ten, fourteen -different ways in which Mr. Garrettson could have been abducted from his -own carriage, put into a taxi, and carried away. Suppose there are six -taxis. Three are in front to prevent the coachman from passing them. -The coachman is also compelled to regulate his speed according as they -desire. Then put one taxi on each side and one behind. These taxis not -only escort the cab; they pocket it and keep out help. At one of the -many halts the cab door is opened and Garrettson induced to enter one of -the side taxis while the coachman is occupied taking care of his horses -because one of the taxis in front threatens to back, which will crush -the prancing beasts. Do you suppose the coachman, especially if he is -elderly and somewhat deaf, as all old people are, could hear a cry -for help with six taxis making all the noise they can, muffler cutouts -going, or backfiring, or--" - -"Do you think that is--" - -"I think nothing! I cited it as one of fourteen--indeed, -twenty--possible ways," said Robison, quietly. - -"It's funny--I mean it is a curious coincidence that on the one day you -had sold Steel short--" - -"My young friend," interrupted Robison, gravely, "I sold after -Garrettson was late! Wisdom is always accused of unfairness. A man whose -mind enables him to win steadily at cards is invariably suspected of -marking them. I had planned to buy Con. Steel provided Garrettson's -health, state of mind, and trade conditions satisfied me! Instead I -sold a little because of his delay. Why, man, we did that in London -once--Cecil Rhodes and I--when Barney Barnato, at the height of the -Kaffir craze, suddenly decided--" - -"Wait till I get a piece of paper," said Amos Kidder. He saw a big -story. But Robison said: - -"I'll tell you all you wish to know--if you promise not to use names--in -Richards's office later, when Garrettson's disappearance is officially -admitted. You should hang round Garrettson's office. Don't lose sight of -it for one minute! Your office will keep in touch--" - -"Yes; they are sending three men down to work under me." - -"Keep me posted, will you? I am going to Richards's office and watch the -market." - -Kidder nodded and hurried to the Wills Building. Robison went to the -office of his brokers, stopping previously at a telephone pay-station -to telephone to the city editors of the _Evening World_ and the _Evening -Journal_. This was his message: - -_The Evening Planet is getting out an extra about the disappearance -of W. H. Garrettson. Send your men to Garrettson's office and also his -residence. Hurry!_ - -The _Evening Planet_ story was on the street before Robison returned to -Richards & Tuttle's office, and five minutes later _World_ and _Journal_ -extras were selling in the financial district. Curiously enough, both -papers used the same scare-head, and that fact had a great deal to do -with the acceptance of the story by many people. The heading was: - - -HELD FOR RANSOM!! - -And each stated it had information that W. H. Garrettson had been -kidnapped and was held for one hundred million dollars ransom. The -Wall Street news agencies sent out the news on the tickers. One of them -subtly finished: - -_Those who know Mr. Garrettson state that the two things the greatest -financier of our times cannot do are: first, take advice; and second, -be coerced. A man who has compelled a President of the United States to -come to him for advice, and who has flatly told a reigning monarch, No! -is not going to do as he is told by any band of crooks! The worst is, -therefore, to be feared!_ - - - -VI - -For one brief dazed moment the stock-market hesitated! Then suddenly -the ticker stopped, as it did in the old days whenever a member's demise -was announced. The ticker's silence, with its suggestion of death, -did in truth strangle bull hopes. Ten thousand gamblers' hearts almost -stopped when the ticker did. Then the storm burst, increasing in -violence as corroboration came from newspaper extras, from the Wall -Street news agencies and the news tickers, from brokers and bankers who -had rushed to the offices of W. H. Garrettson & Company and had rushed -out again to sell stocks. And for one fatal moment the great house of -W. H. Garrettson & Company was guilty of the capital crime--in high -finance--of indecision. - -The stock-market at times suggests a reservoir--: the selling-power -is liquefied fear. Like water, all it asks is one tiny crevice--a -beginning!--and it will itself complete the havoc. - -Inside support--that is, buying by Garrettson's firm--would have been -the only effective denial of the alarming rumors. Therefore, in the -brief instant that saw absolutely no "support" forthcoming the flood of -selling-orders raged down upon the stock-market, carrying with it big -margins and little margins and minus margins, fortunes and hopes and -reputations. - -The price of Con. Steel declined faster and faster as the volume -of selling-orders grew larger. It was the snowball rolling down the -hillside. From sixty-eight it went to sixty-seven; to sixty-six; to -sixty-five by fractions. Then it broke whole points at a time--to sixty; -to fifty-five! In fifteen frightful, unforgetable minutes the capital -stock, of the Consolidated Steel Corporation shrank in value fifteen -million dollars--one million a minute! A psychological statistician -would have figured that this million a minute was the tribute of -the moneyed world to the great Garrettson's reputation for financial -invulnerability; it was the cost of the blow to his prestige, the result -of his partners' inefficiency during the one crucial moment of the -firm's existence. The partners would have understood death and could -have provided against it, stock-marketwise. It is likely that they even -might have capitalized their senior partner's demise had it come from -typhoid, tuberculosis, or taxicab. But the disappearance of the great -Garrettson, the fatal incertitude, the black ignorance, the fearing -and the hoping, paralyzed the faculties of the junior partners of Wall -Street's mighty firm. And the costliness of their indecision was raised -into the millions by the fact that, just as Jenkins, Johnson, and Lane, -the junior partners, agreed that Garrettson, though absent, was well, -and were about to take steps to check the gamblers' panic, the telephone -summoned Jenkins. - -"Hello! Is this Mr. Jenkins? Good. This is Dr. Pierson. Come at once to -Mr. Garrettson, Hotel Cressline, Suite D. No, not B--D! Say nothing to -the family! Hurry!" And the speaker rang off. - -His face livid with apprehension, visibly tortured by the still -unrelieved uncertainty, Jenkins turned to Walter Johnson, the youngest -and--Wall Street said--the cleverest of Garrettson's partners, and -repeated the message. - -"Was it Dr. Pierson's voice?" asked Johnson. - -"I don't know--yes; I think it was. He said, 'This is Dr. Pierson,' and -I didn't suspect--yes; I think it was." After a second's pause, "I know -it was Pierson!" - -"Then, for Heaven's sake--" began Lane. - -"Your knowledge of Pierson's voice, Jenkins, is vitiated by your obvious -wish. Call up Dr. Pierson's office, of course!" said Johnson. - -"Meantime we are losing precious time--" Johnson had already gone to -the desk telephone and asked for Dr. Pierson's office. To his partner he -said, the receiver at his ear: - -"We have all eternity before us to solve the problem if--" The emphasis -on the conditional particle indicated so clearly his meaning that there -was no need to say it. "You need not go on a wild-goose chase, and we -hoping and expecting and uncertain if--Hello! Dr. Pierson's office? This -is Mr. Johnson, of W. H. Garrettson & Company. Is the doctor there? -Out? Where did he go? Speak out--I am Mr. Garrettson's partner. Hotel -Cressline, Suite D? Thank you." Johnson turned and said: "Dr. Pierson -was summoned by telephone to the Cressline, Suite D, to attend Mr. -Garrettson. Hurry call! I'll get the hotel and ask--" - -"And meantime," said Jenkins, excitedly, "he might be dying or dead; and -we--" - -"Yes! Go! I'll arrange to have a telephone-line kept for our exclusive -use. Hurry!" - -Jenkins rushed madly from the office and Johnson took up the telephone -once more. - -"Give me the Hotel Cressline!" And presently, "Hello! Cressline? This is -W. H. Garrettson & Company. Yes--Mr. Johnson, Mr. Garrettson's partner. -Is Mr. Gar--... Yes--yes--I want to talk to him.... Why not? Is it our -Mr. Garrettson... Here! Hold your horses! You will tell me!--or, by -Heaven, I'll... Helloh-Hello! Damn 'em!" - -"What did they say, Walter?" asked Mr. Lane, partner and brother-in-law -of Garrettson. - -"He said I could go to hell!" growled Johnson, his face brick-red from -anger; people did not talk that way to the partners of the great -Garrettson. "He said a Mr. Garrettson, accompanied by a heavily veiled -lady, took Suite D this morning at nine-forty-five, and left orders not -to be interrupted under any circumstances--no cards sent up, no -telephone connection made, no messages of any kind delivered!" - -The two partners looked at each other gravely. In their eyes was -something like a cross between a challenge and an entreaty, as though -each expected the other to say he did not expect a terrible final -chapter. In the veiled woman each feared what was worse than mere -death--scandal! Of course, much would be suppressed, as had been done in -the case of Winthrop Kyle or of Burton Willett, to whom death had come -suddenly and under dubious circumstances. - -"William is not that kind!" said Lane, loyally. "He has never--" - -"I know that, of course. I don't believe it. I don't! I don't!" repeated -Walter Johnson, vehemently. - -"Neither do I," agreed Lane. "But--" He looked furtively at Walter -Johnson. - -Johnson nodded, and said, "Yes, that's the devil of it!" He lost -himself in thoughts of how to suppress the scandal; for these men loved -Garrettson, admired his abilities, gloried in his might, and reverenced -his greatness. They would rather see the firm lose millions than have -posthumous mud flung upon the historic figure of W. H. Garrettson. - -That was the explanation of why the ordinary precautions for staving -off a panic were not taken by the partners. That was why they denied -themselves to everybody who brought no news of Mr. W. H. Garrettson; and -such was the discipline of the office that no word was brought to the -palefaced partners in the inner office about the big break in stocks or -of the newspaper extras. - -It was the fatal mistake. By the time Walter Johnson, by accident or -force of habit, or possibly subconsciously, moved by the telepathic -message of the ticker, approached the little instrument the slump in -stocks had taken on the proportions of a panic. - -"Great Scott! Fifty-eight for steel!" - -"No!" incredulously shouted Lane. - -"It'll never do!" - -"Yes, but--" - -Walter Johnson, forgetting that Mr. Garrettson was a man who liked to -do things in his own way, rushed out of the private office and began -to give out buying-orders to the better-known of the Garrettson -brokers--they kept some of these for the effect of obvious "Garrettson -buying." It was all the firm could do to check the decline. No matter -what had happened, the house of Garrettson must not lie about it! -Silence, yes; untruth, never! And yet silence might be taken as -corroboration of the awful stories. He could not say that the great -Garrettson was alive and could not say he was dead. He must not mention -Hotel Cressline. A trying situation! To the news-agency men, who would -put out the news on the Street, from whom also the daily papers would -get it, he said, very calmly and impressively: - -"I know of no reason why anybody should sell Consolidated Steel. The -iron trade is in excellent shape; the company is doing the biggest -business in its history at reasonable but remunerative prices, and we -consider the stock a good investment. We deprecate these violent -speculative movements. They are designed to frighten timid holders. I -advise every man who owns Consolidated Steel stock to hold on to it. - -"But about Mr. Gar--" - -"Not another word!" he said, firmly, with a smile that was a masterpiece -of will-power. - -The newspaper men translated it: "Not a word about W. H. Garrettson!" -And in the Stock Exchange a similar construction was put upon the -message. What was wanted was to know whether the great Garrettson was -dead or not--the kidnapping was by now accepted as a fact!--and if -so what would be done with the enormous Garrettson holdings of Steel. -Wherefore the traders sold more of the same stock--short--and the -bona-fide holders could develop no conviction strong enough as to the -wisdom of holding on, so long as the price continued to go down. - -Jenkins arrived at the Cressline in time to find Dr. Pierson engaged in -a fight with the office force, who would not show Suite D to him or send -up any message. But Jenkins, who in his youth had been a book agent, -succeeded in inducing the management to break open the door after -repeated knocking brought no response from within. - -They found nobody in Suite D. Mr. Garrettson had vanished! But they -found on the bureau a long lavender automobile veil. - -Jenkins and Dr. Pierson stared at each other in perplexity. At length -Jenkins, red and uncomfortable, said to Dr. Pierson: - -"I came up as soon as I got your telephone message; and--" - -"I never telephoned you!" interrupted Dr. Pierson. - -"Why, you said--" - -"I didn't say it. I came up here because I got a message from the -hotel--or so the voice said--to see Mr. Garrettson, who had been taken -suddenly ill in Suite D. His companion, a young lady, was with him." - -"Damn!" said Jenkins, with ah uneasy look. He bethought him of the -office, hastened to the telephone and told Walter Johnson all about the -fake messages and Dr. Pierson's story. - -"That was to throw us off the scent. Con. Steel has broken ten points, -and--" - -"It's a bear raid then!" - -"Yes. But have the bears got W. H. Garrettson? If so, where? Hurry -down!" - -Meantime in the office of Richards & Tuttle Mr. Robison was carefully -following the course of the stock-market. The lower Steel went the -higher Robison rose in the estimation of the firm, the customers, and -the office-boys. - -In one of the interludes between the slumps George B. Richards asked in -a voice which one might say sweated respect: - -"What do you think now, Mr. Robison?" - -The office had been doing a great business and the big room with the -quotation-board that took one side was crowded with customers. These -customers, with eyes that shone greedily, drew near and frankly listened -to the colloquy. They were all happy because they were all short of -Steel, and they were all short of Steel because a mysterious stranger -had scented a strange mystery ten minutes ahead of Wall Street. - -"Yes?" said Mr. Robison, absently. - -"What do you think now?" - -"What do I think now?" repeated Mr. Robison, mechanically. - -"Yes, sir," said George B. Richards, in the tone of voice of an -office-boy about to ask for a day off. Robison stared unseeingly at -the broker. Then, with a little start, he said so distinctly that every -listening customer heard very plainly: - -"I have not changed my opinion. When I do I'll let you know." - -"It looks to me," persisted Richards, fishing for information, "that -they can't keep on going down forever." - -"No--not forever," assented Mr. Robison, calmly. - -"Maybe the bottom is not far off." - -"Maybe not." - -"If a man bought now he might do well." - -"Then buy 'em." - -"Still, until we know just what is back of this break it isn't safe to -go long." - -"In that case," said Mr. Robison, with a polite nod of the head, "don't -buy 'em." - -Richards did not persist, and with an effort subdued the desire to -say "Thank you!" in a most sarcastic tone of voice. The disappointed -customers drifted away. To be told when to begin making money is great, -but any experienced stock speculator will tell you that it is even more -important to be told when to stop making it. The tale of the Untaken -Profit is the jeremiad of the ticker-fiend. - -Con. Steel was down to fifty-five and beginning to show "resiliency," -as financial writers used to say, when an office-boy rushed to Mr. -Robison's side. The lad's face shone with pride at being the bearer of -money-making news to-the most distinguished of the firm's customers, -whose paper profits at that moment were about one hundred thousand -dollars. - -"Mr. Robison!" he said in the distinct, low voice of one who is -accustomed to repeating confidential messages in a crowded room. The -other customers, who were still hopeful of getting the tip when to -cover, looked at the boy's lips and listened strainingly to catch his -whispered words. - -"Speak up, my boy. I am a little hard of hearing," said Mr. Robison -through his nose, with a pleasant smile. - -The customers, to a man, blessed the catarrh that caused the deafness -which would give them the tip they all expected. - -"The photographer says the pictures came out very fine indeed." - -The looking and listening customers, to a man, murmured, "Stung again!" - -"Wait a minute my lad. Here!" and he gave the office-boy a five-dollar -bill and a small envelope. - -"Thank you very much, sir," said the boy. He put the five dollars in -his pocket, beamed gratefully on Mr. Robison, gazed pityingly at the -customers, and looked at the envelope. It said, "Mr. Richards." - -He gave the envelope to Mr. Richards, who had retreated into the private -office. The broker opened it. It contained one of Robison's slips, on -which was written: - -_Buy twenty thousand Con. Steel at the market._ - -_J. B. Robison._ - -Richards rushed the order to the Board Room. It helped to steady the -price. Presently Mr. Richards approached Robison and sat in the -empty place beside him. Feeling that they were not wanted, two polite -customers moved away, ostensibly not to hear; but they tried to listen -just the same. - -"Your order is executed, Mr. Robison." Mr. Richards whispered it out -of a corner of his mouth without turning his head, all the time looking -meditatively at the quotation-board. - -"Got the whole twenty?" - -"Yes." - -"Good!" - -"Do you think--" began the broker in a voice that would make flint turn -to putty. - -"I do!" cut in Robison. "I do, indeed! There is no telling what has -happened. The sharpness of the break was intensified by two facts." He -had unconsciously raised his voice. - -A startled look fastened itself on the seventeen faces of the seventeen -customers who were short of Steel. The seventeen owners of the faces -drew nearer to Mr. Robison, who, apparently unaware of having any other -listener than Mr. George B. Richards, went on, nasally but amiably: - -"By two things: First, the mystery. What has become of Mr. W. H. -Garrettson? Second: If the great Garrettson has disappeared it must be -because of a worse-than-death. Many things can be worse than death, in -the stock-market--failure, for instance." - -"Oh, but that's out of the question." - -"Yes, it is! So is the disappearance of W. H. Garrettson, one of the -best-known men in America, in broad daylight, in a crowded and very -efficiently policed city thoroughfare." - -"Yes; but a failure--" - -"When the Baring Brothers failed Englishmen the world over wouldn't -believe it. They couldn't fail, you know!" - -"Do you think--" - -"No, I do not. I was merely objecting to the habit of loose assertions -so characteristic of Wall Street. I told you to what two things I -ascribed the sharpness of the break. Mystery is the greatest of all bull -cards, as you all know. It may also be made to work on the bear side. -Now it isn't likely that anything serious has happened to Mr. W. H. -Garrettson. There would be no sense in murdering him--not even by a -stock speculator; but, even if he is dead, the break in the Garrettson -specialties has by now discounted that sad contingency. Therefore I -should say prices ought to be touching bottom; and what ought to be -generally is, in the stock-market. I fancy we'll hear, one way or -another, very soon now. If the news is good the price of Steel will -rebound smartly. If it is bad we'll at least know what to look to, and -with the elimination of the mystery there should be a cessation of the -selling. There will follow a rush to cover and then--There you are! I -believe it's begun already. Fifty-nine; and a half; sixty; sixty-two! -Get 'em back!" - -The seventeen shorts in the room rushed to give their orders to cover -and gloomily watched the massacre of the bears as melodramatized in -figures on the quotation-board. - -Sixty-three! Sixty-five! Sixty-seven! Higher than it had been before -the newspaper extras came out! Big blocks were changing hands. W. H. -Garrettson & Co. were buying the stock aggressively, even recklessly -now. Somebody must pay---and it wouldn't be the firm. - -Amos Kidder rushed into the office. "He's found!" he yelled, excitedly, -addressing Mr. Robison. - -"Where was he?" asked Mr. Robison, very calmly. - -"At home--damn 'im!" - -"Why that, my boy?" - -"He won't talk--says he was in his library all the time." - -"We know better than that. Don't we, Kidder?" said Robison, with a -smile. - -"Yes; but you don't have to print the official statement as though it -were the truth, and I have. How can I say he lied when I can't prove -that he wasn't in his library? If I knew the whole truth--" - -"The whole truth?" echoed Mr. Robison, with the shade of a smile. - -"Don't you know it?" Amos Kidder shot this at Mr. Robison suspiciously. - -"Don't make me laugh, Kidder! Nobody knows the whole truth about -anything. Take dinner with me to-morrow night--will you?" - -"Yes." There was a smoldering defiance--it wasn't suspicion exactly--in -the newspaper man's voice and eyes. - -"Good for you! Mr. Richards, please sell my Steel." - -"Now that Garrettson is--" - -"Yes, now--at the market, carefully. Have I doubled my money in a week?" - -"Yes." - -"I told you I would." - -"An accident is not a fair test of--" - -"An accident is not a fair test of anything, because there is no such -thing in the stock-market as an accident! The sooner you let that fact -seep in the better it will be for the bank account of your children. I -must be going up-town now. Good night, gentlemen." - -As early as practicable the next day, after the interest had been -figured out to the ultimate penny, Mr. James Burnett Robison was -informed by Mr. George B. Richards that he had to his credit the sum of -$268,537.71 with the firm. - -"I've won my bet!" murmured Mr. Robison, staring absently at the broker. - -"You have indeed, Mr. Robison." Richards spoke deferentially. - -"H'm! I hope I can induce Ethel to--Mr. Richards, I'll thank you to sign -this paper. There is a notary public up-stairs." - -This was the document: - -_To WHOM IT MAY CONCERN:_ - -_This is to certify that on July 18, 1912, Mr. James B. Robison opened -an account with the firm of Richards & Tuttle, bankers and brokers, -members of the New York Stock Exchange, by depositing with them the -sum of $100,000. On July 23d he closed this account, which showed a net -profit of $168,537.71._ - -_A copy of the itemized statement, showing purchases and sales of stocks -and prices paid and received, will be given to any one upon an order -from Mr. James B. Robison._ - -_For Richards & Tuttle:_ _George B. Richards._ - -When Mr. George B. Richards had signed this certificate Mr. Robison -said, amiably: - -"If you wish I'll give you, in return, a letter testifying to the -pleasure it has given me to trade in an office where they let customers -more than double their money in one week." - -"Thank you. I hope you are not going to withdraw your account." - -"And I hope you will send and get me a hundred thousand dollars in new, -clean hundred-dollar bills to give to the beneficiary of my wager. I -told you it was easy to make money in Wall Street. You wouldn't have -given me a certificate of sanity a week ago. What?" - -"Oh yes, I would. But if you don't think my curiosity impertinent--" - -"All curiosity in a stock-broker is a sign of intelligence; and -intelligence, my dear Mr. George B. Richards, is never impertinent." Mr. -Robison smiled with such amiable sincerity that Richards felt flattered -enough to blush. - -"Thank you. But there is one thing I don't understand--" The broker -paused; he was about to inquire into the personal affairs of a -profitable customer. He did not wish commissions to stop. - -Mr. Robison bowed his head acquiescingly and, as though it were his turn -to speak, said: - -"It is always wise for a man to have a number of things he doesn't -understand. It affords occupation during idle moments, gives the mind -healthy exercise, and, indeed, maintains a salutary interest in -life. Humanity loves knowledge, but is fascinated by mystery. Is life -interesting to you? Yes. Why? Because it is so important and you know so -little about it. Is death interesting to you? Yes. Why? Because of death -you know only the first letter of the first word of the first line of -the first chapter of a big, black book--Mystery!" - -"Yes," murmured the dazed broker. - -Robison continued, cheerfully: "My dear Mr. Richards, by all means -don't understand! I'll drop in later in the day for the hundred thousand -dollars. Meanwhile pray continue to be mystified and unhappy, but -interested, and believe me your sincere friend and well-wisher, James -Burnett Robison." With these words the man who looked like a Paris dude -and talked like an actor with the voice of a down-east farmer, whose -speech suggested insanity but whose deeds yielded him twenty-five -thousand dollars a day, walked out of the office of his brokers. - -A few hours later he received ten bundles of hun-dred-dollar bills, -which he carelessly stuffed into his coat pocket, and then asked for a -check for his balance. When George B. Richards regretfully complied and -lachrymosely hoped Mr. Robison would reconsider his decision to close -the account, Mr. Robison answered, very impressively: - -"My dear Mr. Richards, if you were Rockefeller, would you work in a -glue-factory for the pleasure of it? I don't need money and I hate the -marketplace. If ever I decide that humanity needs more money than I -personally possess I'll come back and take it out of Wall Street through -Richards & Tuttle, at one-eighth of one per cent, commission and the -state tax. Good day, sir!" And he left, Mr. Richards remembered just -afterward and wondered, without shaking hands. - - - -VIII - -Amos Kidder dined with Mr. Robison that evening at Mr. Robison's hotel, -the Regina. - -"Americans," explained the host, "always flock to the newest hotel on -the theory that material progress is infallible and that the latest -thing is necessarily the best thing. But cooking is not sanitary -plumbing; it is an art! I am here not because of the journalistic, -Sunday-special character of the filtered air and automatic temperature -adjusters of this hotel, but because I discovered it had the best -chef of all New York here. The food," he finished, with an air of -overpraising, "is almost as good as in my own house. Have you any -favorite dishes or doctor's diet to follow?" - -"No, thank Heaven! I'll eat and drink whatever you'll order," replied -the newspaper man. - -"Thank you, Kidder--thank you!" said Mr. Robison, with an air of such -profound gratitude that Kidder forgot to laugh. "I was hoping you would -leave it to me to order the dinner; in fact, it is ordered. Thank you!" -And he beckoned to the _maître d'hôtel_, who immediately hastened to the -table and covered his face with a mask of extreme respectfulness. "You -may begin to serve the dinner, Antoine," said Robison, simply. - -"Dewey at Manila!" thought Kidder, impressed in spite of himself. His -Wall Street work and his friendship with millionaires had accustomed him -to all sorts of extravagances, but he admitted to himself he had never -eaten so unconsciously well in his life. Emboldened by the dinner and -the heartwarming wine, and his own growing affection for the curious man -who said remarkable things through his nose and did remarkable things -in a remarkably matter-of-fact way, Kidder was inspired to say over the -coffee: - -"I'd like to ask you two questions--just two." - -"That's one more than Carlyle, who said that man had but one question to -ask man, to wit: 'Can I kill thee or canst thou kill me?'" - -"O king, live forever!" said Kidder, saluting. "Thanks. Shoot ahead." - -"Did you know what was going to happen or were you really betting on the -chance that Garrettson's absence meant something serious?" Kidder was -looking at Robison with a steady gaze. - -"There is, my dear boy, no such thing as chance. Irreligious people have -invented chance to fill in a hiatus otherwise unbridgable. Right, my -boy!" And Robison nodded. - -"Your talks with Richards were mighty mysterious," said Kidder, with an -accusing tone of voice he could not quite control. - -"So is the internal economy of a bug mysterious." - -"And your talk about the Lion eating the man and the International -Cribbage Board--" - -"But not exactly criminal, eh?" - -"No; but--" - -"Kidder, my rhetorical eccentricities are of no consequence. Suppose -you call it a harmless desire to give to myself the importance of the -inexplicable, or even an intent to confuse impressions by making the -mind of the broker dwell more on the mysteriousness of the customer than -on the possible meaning of that customer's trading. Do you wish me to -tell you that I have a system for beating the ticker game? Because I -sha'n't! But that I go about my business scientifically you yourself -have seen. At least you are witness that I have won." - -"Yes; but--" - -"What's the second question?" - -"There isn't a second if you won't answer the first," said Kidder, with -the forced amiability of the foiled. - -"I have answered it. What you really wish is a detective story. Suppose -we imagine. The only real people are those that live in our minds. Now -let us wonder what happened to Garrettson and why he will not tell. Here -is an incident that precipitated a slump which had the semblance of -a panic--short-lived though it was--that caused mental anguish to -his friends, relatives, and associates; and yet that great genius of -finance, Wall Street's demigod, says nothing." - -"He says he was in his library." - -"We know he lies. That makes it more serious. Why does he lie? What -compels so powerful and courageous a man as the great Garrettson to -lie?" - -"I don't know." - -"You ought to; there is only one thing." - -"Do you mean fear of a petticoat scandal?" - -"No; because Garrettson does not fear that. Being highly intelligent, he -protects himself against all possibility of scandal. No. It is something -else. It's fear!" - -"Of the alleged kidnappers?" - -"No. He doesn't fear men. But he might fear--" He paused. - -"What?" eagerly asked the newspaper man. - -"Ridicule!" - -Kidder aimed what he fondly hoped was a piercing glance at Mr. -Robison. He discovered nothing. Mr. Robison had a far-away look in his -philosophical eyes. - -"It's too much for me," finally confessed Kidder, hoping that the -frankness of his admission might induce Mr. Robison to speak on. - -Robison smiled forgivingly, and said: - -"You have what I may call the usual type of mind. You look at usual -things in the usual way. And yet the application of well-known -principles to well-known people seems to benumb your usual mind most -unusually. Now what do you gather from the Garrettson episode?" - -"Nothing, unless it is that you made a lot of money by what seems to be -a most unusual succession of coincidences." - -"Your voice," said Robison, with a sort of sedate amusement, "exudes -suggestions of the penitentiary. The idea of law and order has become an -instinct. The lawful is usual. The unusual, therefore, is unlawful. It -puts the blessed era of scientific anarchy as far off as the old maids' -millennium--or as the abolition of stupidity among bankers and--" - -"And newspaper men--what?" Kidder prompted, pleasantly. "Don't mind me. -I enjoy it." - -"Kidder, you are a nice chap! That's why I asked your Paris man for a -letter of introduction to the financial editor of his newspaper. It gave -me what I as a stranger needed in Wall Street. It was easy to get. It is -an American failing to give such letters promiscuously, because we are -an irresponsible people. I have, I suppose, voiced a suspicion of yours -about me?" - -"I did not have it. I have it now, however." - -"If we talk about poor me any longer you'll be asking for my aliases and -my Bertillon measurements. Now let's get to Garrettson. We know he left -his house in his carriage at his usual hour and that he did not arrive -at his office. We have the evidence of his coachman--a man above -suspicion--of the newspapers, and of the cigar-ashes. We know, for you -heard Jenkins call up the house, that Mr. Garrettson was not at home. -We know that his disappearance must have been connected with alarming -circumstances or his partners would not have been so badly upset as to -allow that reputation-shattering slump in the Garrettson shares--led, I -am thankful to say, by Consolidated Steel. We know that Jenkins rushed -up-town to the Cressline Hotel and found Dr. Pierson, but no Garrettson -there, as had been tipped off, thereby increasing the mystery or -suggesting that a bear clique was at work and was taking advantage of -the obvious possibilities of the situation. Merely out of curiosity -I found out that the hotel people had rented Suite D to a man calling -himself W. H. Garrettson, who was accompanied by a veiled woman. It -wasn't Garrettson, though." - -"How do you know?" - -"It was clearly a ruse--having a woman. Don't you see it? The gossip -that would--" - -"Very ingenious; but--" - -"At all events, Garrettson got back. We suspect he scolded his partners, -and we know he gave out a statement to the reporters that was, to -say the least, disingenuous. We know that, had it been any one but -Garrettson, Wall Street would have seen stock-market strategy in his -highly inconvenient disappearance." - -"Yes, yes; but--" - -"Friend Kidder, let us evolve an explanation that explains. Let us form -a syndicate of intelligent men!" He made a motion with his hand as if -waving away the necessity of further elucidation. - -"Friend Robison," said Kidder, jocularly mimicking the older man's -manner, "you are one of those unusual men whose speeches are better than -his silences. _Continuez, s'il vous plaît._" - -"Intelligent men, deprecating alike violence and the immoderate -accumulation of wealth by others. To reduce such wealth would be their -object." - -"A band of robbers?" - -"No; an aggregation of philosophers." - -"None the less crooks." - -"No; since they would take from crooks, annexing only that class -of wealth which is called tainted! They would take plunder from the -plunderers, themselves pardonable plunderers. That would give to the -syndicate a confidence in itself and a faith in its righteousness that -would make success easy. How would they go about making Wall Street -contribute to the fund? Now they must have seen that Garrettson's -life was a bull factor, and his death a bear card. But they had -old-fashioned, unphilosophical scruples against murder. Moreover, the -sensational disappearance of Garrettson would serve even better than his -death. Problem: How to kidnap Garrettson? Or, better still: How to make -Garrettson kidnap himself? Simplicity itself!" - -"It I am Dr. Watson to your Sherlock Holmes, consider me gazing on you -with admiration. And so--" - -"The time would be when the Street was full of people long of Con. -Steel and the newspapers full of articles showing the greatness of W. H. -Garrettson. If I, who merely desired to trade in a few thousand -shares, studied Garrettson's habits, think of the syndicate playing for -millions! They learn about his daily carriage trip to his office. The -rest is obvious, even to you--isn't it?" Mr. Robison gazed benignantly -at his guest. - -"No; it isn't obvious to me--or to any one else," retorted Kidder, -sharply. - -"You still think I am Delphic or a crook? My dear Kidder, how can you -ask me to insult your intelligence by filling in the obvious gaps in an -obvious way?" - -"Insult ahead." - -"Very well. Mr. Garrettson is sane in everything except in the matter -of collecting MSS. At five minutes to nine a man goes to his house--an -impressive stranger, well-dressed, cold-eyed, with the aristocratic -attitude toward servants that sees in them merely pieces of furniture. -He tells the footman in a dehumanized voice that he must see Mr. -Garrettson. The footman tells the butler. The butler comes out. The -stranger says to the butler: 'I am leaving for Europe this morning. -Tell Mr. Garrettson he will see me at once or not at all. Give him this -paper and show him this sheet. Make haste!' The dazed butler gives -Mr. Garrettson the paper, which is apparently the first page of -the _Knickerbocker History of New York_. The memorandum informs Mr. -Garrettson: 'I have, in their entirety, the MSS. of this history, -Cooper's "Spy," Poe's "Goldbug," three love-letters of George Washington -to Mrs. Glendenning, and no less than sixteen signed letters of Thomas -Lynch, the one signer of the Declaration of Independence whose autograph -is really rare.' Of course Mr. Garrettson would see the stranger!" - -"The sheet supposed to be the first page of Irving's _Knickerbocker -History_ is a forgery, so well done as to writing, paper, and ink as to -make Garrettson's mouth water for the rest. He has the stranger taken -into the library and shows him various rare MSS., the history of -which the stranger knows, thereby growing in Garrettson's estimation, -particularly since Garrettson does not know how carefully the stranger -has prepared himself for this same selfchosen test. But the man is a -lunatic, for he wishes Garrettson to give him fifty thousand dollars and -five fifteenth-century enamels for the MSS., sight unseen. They argue -and haggle and fight. Time thus passes. While Garrettson and the lunatic -are quarreling, the Garrettson coupé and the coachman are waiting -outside as usual. - -"As nine o'clock strikes, which the coachman hears as usual and is -the usual signal for Garrettson's appearance, the coachman sees a man -running from round the corner, pursued by a well-dressed woman with -a horsewhip; also six urchins yelling, 'Give it to him, Liz!' This -attracts the coachman's attention. The man stops just across the street -from the Garrettson house and the woman lashes him. Of course the -coachman has turned his head away from his master's house on the left to -the horsewhipping on the right. Suddenly he hears the door of the coupé -slam--a rebuking sort of slam! He turns round, gathers up the reins and -prepares to start. He doesn't have to be told where to go. It's always -the office. While he was looking at the horsewhipping Mr. Garrettson has -come out of the house and entered the waiting carriage, as he has done -every day for thirty years. - -"Out of the corner of his eye the coachman sees the footman returning to -the house--a bareheaded footman in the dark-green Garrettson livery, -a bundle of newspapers in his hands. The footman stops short and turns -round. He is smooth-shaved, as all footmen are. The coachman hears him -say, 'Beg pardon--here they are, sir!' and sees the footman hand -papers to Mr. Garrettson inside; for who should be inside but Mr. W. -H. Garrettson? The footman returns to the house and the coachman drives -away, sure that his master is within. His customary route has been -studied and it is easy to cause delays, so as to make the carriage -arrive at the office fifteen minutes late. No Garrettson! Why? Because -he was in the library! The footman was an accomplice. The syndicate has -in readiness an exact replica of the Garrettson carriage, of the horse, -and even of the coachman; and when Garrettson and his cranky visitor do -come out, Garrettson sees his carriage waiting for him, gets in, and is -driven away--but not to his office! And there you are." - -"Do you really think that is what happened?" - -"It is what a gang of intelligent men would do." - -"It is very fine--only it cannot happen." - -"Why not?" - -"The coachman would never swallow such a fool trick as that." - -"If you knew the history of our old New York families you would -recall the episode of Mrs. Robert Nye, whose old coachman, English -and stiff-necked, one day drove the empty victoria round Central Park, -thinking he carried his mistress, because the lap-robe had been placed -in the carriage by the footman before the old lady had gotten in--and -usually the old lady got in first and the lap-robe followed." - -"But he said he saw Garrettson get in," objected Kidder; "and the -cigar-ashes were there on the floor!" - -"The ashes were thrown in by the footman for the very purpose of -making Argus-eyed reporters make a point of it. That and the crumpled -newspapers clinched it, so that the coachman thought he remembered -seeing Garrettson get in. It is what psychologists call an illusion of -memory." - -"Oh, well--" - -"Oh, well, it merely means that progressive people keep posted. Here, -let me read you what Henry Rutgers Marshall, an American psychologist, -better known to the learned bodies of Europe than to benighted -compatriots like you, has to say about this. I copied it: - -"_Few of our memories are in any measure fully accurate as records; and -under certain conditions, which arise more frequently than most of -us realize, the characteristics of the memory-experience may appear in -connection with images, or series of images, which are not revivals -of any actual past events. In such cases the man who has such a -memory-experience, automatically following his usual mode of thought, -accepts it as the revival record of an actual occurrence in his past -life. When we are convinced that this is not the case we say that he has -suffered from an 'illusion of memory.'_" - -_"The term 'illusion of memory' thus appears to be something of a -misnomer. What we are really dealing with is a real memory-experience, -but one by which we are led to make a false judgment--and this because -the judgment, which in this special case is false, is almost invariably -fully justified._ - -_"A man of unquestioned probity is thus often led to make statements in -regard to his experience in the past that have not the least foundation -in fact."_ - -"But, when Garrettson came out of his house do you mean to say he -wouldn't notice a different coachman?" Kidder looked incredulous in -advance of the answer. - -"He wouldn't be looking for a different coachman and, therefore, he -wouldn't find one. The imitation was close enough to show nothing -unusual, nothing different. A lifelong habit never develops -introspective misgivings. No, my boy; Garrettson never noticed. Of -course the coachman drove to some place or other and left the great -financier a prisoner in the cab." - -"How?" - -"By making the door of the coupé impossible to open from the inside, -so that Garrettson was compelled finally to climb out of the window, a -matter of some difficulty to a man of his years and weight. The rest you -know." - -"I don't." - -"I don't, either, if you use that tone of voice. But I imagine that, -since there was nothing illegal or violent thus far, the syndicate -continued to be intelligent. For instance, they might have made it -impossible for Garrettson to escape from the carriage-room of the -private stable whither he was taken, carriage and all, except by going -through a lot of cobwebs and coal-dust and stable litter. As he emerged -from the coal-chute a photographer could take pictures of him--no hero -of a thrilling escape from desperate criminals, but just a plain chump, -full of dirt and soot and mud and manure, hatless, grimy, and unscathed! -A quickly developed photographic plate, a print, and a line or two -would, of course, make him keep the entire affair mum on the eve of -the most gigantic of his promotions--the Intercontinental Railway -Consolidation. Indeed, Garrettson can use the break in prices and the -recovery of the market to increase his prestige by pointing out how -important not only his life is, but, indeed, his physical presence." - -"But the syndicate--" - -"It might have been short a hundred thousand shares of the Garrettson -stocks, on which it made an average profit of eight or ten points. Well, -my friend Kidder, we'll just about have time to see the last act of -Bohême. Come on!" - -Amos Kidder, torn by conflicting emotions, grateful for an epoch-making -dinner, interested as never before by his host's conversation, talked -a great deal about it, but it was only months afterward that he finally -knew. - -One day he received three photographs. One showed the great Garrettson -in the act of emerging from a coal-hole. His clothes were a sight and -his face was much more! Another showed Garrettson dusting himself -of cobwebs and wisps of stable litter. The photographs explained why -Garrettson had not told the reporters where he had spent that fateful -forenoon--and why he had not tried to learn to whom he was indebted for -his misadventure. Accompanying the photographs was this letter: - -_Sir,--We send you herewith photographs of the great Mogul of Wall -Street in the act of leaving the house whither he was taken on a certain -morning. The house number Was removed so he could not identify the -house. We are sure you can reconstruct the story of the famous forenoon -by what you know and by what you can guess. This syndicate of ours was -formed to reduce the tainted wealth of our compatriots, and is still -operating successfully. If we ever send you a telegram in code, read -it by taking the first two letters of each word--except only the first -word, which is always the abbreviation of a name. We take the trouble to -tell you this because your paper was of great use to us, as we intended -it should be, and because we expect to use you again very shortly. You -might compare notes with Mr. Boon, the jeweler. Once more thanking you -for your benevolence, we remain,_ - -_Respectfully,_ - -_The Plunder Recovery Syndicate._ - -Kidder showed this letter to Richards. "Let us see," said Richards, -"whether we can now read the cablegram that Robison left with the -office-boys, with a reward for the successful translator." - -He rang the bell, sent for the message, and applied the test; it worked! - -"Mogulgar must stand for Garrettson, the great Mogul of Wall Street," -said Richards. He was one of those men who always are glad to discover -the obvious. - -"Yes. 'Will vanish two hours Wed.' Well, he certainly did. It proves it -really was planned. But I am not sure this was a bona-fide cablegram. -Possibly Robison himself faked it." - -"Why don't you find out?" suggested the broker. "I will," said Kidder, -and he did. He learned that neither the telegraph nor the cable -companies had any record of the deluge of messages received by Robison -in the brokers' office. - -"They were fakes, probably to carry out the appearance of reality," said -Richards, with a Sherlock Holmes nod of explanation. - -"Yes, yes," acquiesced Kidder, impatiently; "but what astonishes me is -the syndicate's moderation. I wonder what they'll do next." - -"I wonder," echoed the broker, who really was wondering whether the -market was going up or down. - -Kidder, however, went up-town and saw Jesse L. Boon. He told Boon all he -knew and much that he suspected, and Boon in return admitted that Welch, -Boon & Shaw "had lost a few pieces"--but not for publication. Such -things are bound to happen, and are charged to profit and loss. Kidder -knew better, but all that he could do was to pray that he might again -cross the trail of the plunder-recoverer who had called himself Robison. - - - - -III--AS PROOFS OF HOLY WRIT - - -I - -THE bell of the telephone on the desk of the alert city editor of the -New York _Planet_ rang twice. The alert city editor did not instantly -answer it. He was reading a love-letter not meant for his eyes. It had -been sent in with his mail by mistake. The bell rang again. - -"Yes?" he said, angrily. "Who? Oh, hello, Bill!" There was a pause. -Then: "Shall we? Why, friend, he's already started. Thanks awfully! Sure -thing!" - -He swung round and cast a roaming glance about the big room. It was -Sunday, the sacred day when nothing happened. - -"Parkhurst!" he called. - -Parkhurst, one of the _Planet's_ star men, sauntered over to the -desk. He had planned to do other things with his time this nice Sunday -afternoon. Monday-morning stories are not apt to be exciting. Therefore -he limped pathetically in anticipation of the excuse he proposed to make -to get off. He was Williams's chum. - -"Jimmy," said the city editor, with his habitual air of giving -assignments as though they were decorations awarded for distinguished -services, "I just had Bill Stewart, of the Hotel Brabant, on the -telephone. He says there is a man there who has seven million dollars in -gold-dust in the engine-room of the hotel. Klondike mine-owner. Does not -believe in banks, I guess. Takes mighty big stocking to hold the cash--" - -"Do you want _me_ to write the story?" interrupted Parkhurst, coldly. It -was his way of showing his city editor his place. - -"Coal-Oil Johnny up to date! Don't fall for any press agent--" - -Parkhurst forgot the excuse he was going to make. His limp vanished. The -story promised well. He hastened to the Brabant and saw the room clerk, -Stewart, who had tipped off the city editor. - -"Yes; he is in," said Stewart. "But if you think it is another case -of Coal-Oil Johnny you've got another guess coming. Not that he is a -tightwad; he is liberal enough with his nuggets, the bell-hops say. But -he is no fool. And yet--think of it!--he takes into Seattle with him -from Nome eight or ten millions of gold-dust! There he hires a special -train to bring him and his gold-dust to New York. He arrives at the -Grand Central in the early morning. They hustle round and find seven -trucks to carry the boxes of gold-dust for him. He follows in a taxicab. -He comes straight to this hotel--" - -Stewart here swelled up his chest. It made the reporter say, amiably: - -"It was considered a good hotel once; but news travels slowly in the -frozen North." - -"He comes up here, registers, and then expects me to let him take the -whole fifteen tons of gold up to his room. What do you know about that? -Well, then he wanted to hire a whole floor so as to distribute the -weight. But you know it is a highly concentrated weight. No floor would -stand it. Gold is the heaviest thing there is." - -"It is," agreed Parkhurst, hastily. "It is, dear friend. That's why I -never carry more than a couple of tooth-fillings with me, and--" - -"Let me tell you," cut in Stewart, full of his story. "So, being Sunday -and no banks open, we arranged for him to keep the gold-dust down-stairs -in the engine-room. And it is there now, a hundred and fifty boxes, -worth, he says, about eight million--" - -"Lead me to it before you hand in your bill," entreated the reporter. - -"There are eight Old Sleuths, with sixteen automatic pistols, on the -job of keeping hungry newspaper men from the nice little paper-weights, -Jimmy," said Stewart. "I am so kind to Mr. Jerningham myself that I -think he will remember me in one of those wills you fellows are always -writing about--don't you know? How a fabulous fortune is left to the -polite hotel clerk who was so nice to the stranger in the spring of -eighteen seventy-four?" - -"What's the full name?" asked the reporter. "There it is!" and Stewart -pointed to the autograph in the hotel register. - -"Alfred Jerningham. Nome and New York. Suite G." - -There followed the names of the eight bullion guards and his two -personal servants. - -"Looks like a school-boy's writing." - -"He is about forty," said the clerk. - -"Then it means he probably stopped writing for publication when he was -about fourteen. That is the immature chirography of a man who is more at -home with a pick than with a pen. And, furthermore--" - -"Here he comes," interjected Stewart. "I'll introduce you." - -J. Willoughby Parkhurst, the reporter, was startled by the change in -Stewart's face. It had taken on the ingratiating soul-sweetness of one -who enjoys your story with all his faculties--the complete surrender of -self, soul, and hopes of heaven. The clerk exuded gratitude from every -pore. - -"Gosh!" exclaimed J. Willoughby Parkhurst in amazement, and turned -quickly to see who it was that had made Stewart's greed-stricken face -turn itself into a moving-picture film of all the delights. - -A man was approaching--a man of about the reporter's height, -square-shouldered, smooth-shaved, strong-chinned, with an outdoor -complexion, and the clear, clean, steady eyes of a man without a liver. -There was a metallic glint to the gray-blue of the iris that made the -eyes a trifle hard. The lips were not only compressed, but you guessed -that the compression was habitual. Even a private detective could have -told that this man had made up his mind to do one thing, and therefore -he would do it. There was no doubt of it. - -"Oh, Mr. Jerningham!" The name issued like a stream of saccharin out of -the eddying smiles on Stewart's face. - -"The expectation of twenty millions of gold, at least, on that face!" -thought Parkhurst, more impressed by the smile than by the cause -thereof. - -"Here is that nugget I promised you." And Mr. Jerningham dropped -four-and-three-quarter pounds troy of gold into the clerk's coy hand. -"It is the largest I ever found in six years' mining on the Klondike." - -The reporter later told the city editor--he did not print this--that -Stewart, as he got the nugget, showed plainly on his face his -disappointment that Jerningham had not come from the South-African -diamond-fields. A carbon crystal weighing four pounds and -three-quarters--that would have been worth a real smile! But the clerk -said, gratefully: "It's very good of you. Thank you ever so much! I'd -like to introduce to you my friend, Mr. Park-hurst." - -"Glad to make your acquaintance, sir. Parker, did you say?" - -The Klondiker spoke coldly. It made the reporter say, subtly -antagonistic: - -"Parkhurst!" - -"Any relation to--" - -"Haven't a relation in the world." - -"Shake again, friend," said Jerningham, warmly. "I am in the same boat -myself!" - -They shook hands again. - -"Do you want to be very nice?" asked Jerningham, almost eagerly, of the -reporter. - -"It is my invariable custom to be that," Parkhurst assured him, gravely. - -"Dine with me to-night." Jerningham looked expectant. - -"I have an engagement with my friend the bishop," said the reporter, who -hated clergymen for obvious reasons. "But--let me see!" Parkhurst closed -his eyes the better to see how he could break his engagement. "I'll send -regrets to the bishop and dine with you with pleasure." - -"Mr. Parkhurst is on the _Planet_" put in Stewart. It was the way he -said it! - -"Ah, yes," said Jemingham, vaguely. - -"In fact, Mr. Jemingham," said Parkhurst, "I was sent to interview you." - -"Huh?" ejaculated the Klondiker, blankly. It was plain he was virgin -soil. - -"All to myself!" thought J. Willoughby, with a mental smack of the lips. -Then he began, in that congratulatory tone of voice with which practised -interviewers corkscrew admissions out of their victims: "We heard about -your trip from Seattle, and about your--er--baggage. Would you mind -telling me a little more about it? We could"--with a honeyed grin at -Stewart--"sit down in a nice little corner of the café and have a nice -little chat." - -"I don't mind--if you don't," said Jemingham, with one of those -diffidently eager smiles of people who are doing you a favor and do not -know it. - -The reporter led the way to the café, selected a small table in the -farthest corner, beckoned to a waiter, pointed to a chair, and nodded -toward the Alaskan Monte Cristo. - -"Thank you!" said Jemingham, with real gratitude, and sat down. Then he -looked at his watch, saw that it was only four o'clock, and said to the -waiter, "A cup of tea, please." - -"Huh?" It was all J. Willoughby could rise to. A miner and tea? What -about the free champagne for the hundreds? A tea-drinker would not -scatter walnut-sized diamonds along the Great White Way. - -"I got used to it. My pal was English. We found it preferable to -whisky in the Klondike." Mr. Jerningham made no effort to disguise the -apologetic tone. - -"I'll have the same," cleverly said J. Willoughby. Then, to clinch it, -"Of course you know that in the exclusive clubs to-day men drink more -tea than liquor!" - -"It's the proper thing--eh?" said Jerningham, with a sort of head-waiter -deference that made the reporter stare in surprise. "I am glad you told -me that." - -"Oh yes. It is no longer good form to get load--er--intoxicated. It's -one of the few good things we've got from England--tea-drinking," the -reporter said. "And, Mr. Jerningham, to get back to our subject, just -how did you happen to go to the Klondike?" - -"It began in New York," said Jerningham, and drew his lips together. It -was clearly not a pleasant memory. - -"It did?" You could tell that J. Willoughby was grateful. "Well, well! -And--" He frowned as though a date had escaped him. He really suggested -time to the miner, for Jerningham volunteered: "When I was twelve years -old." - -"That's about twenty years ago," ventured the reporter in the -affirmative tone of voice that inevitably elicits contradiction and the -exact figures from the victim. - -"Thirty-two years ago, sir." - -"Well, well! And--How did you say it began?" The reporter put his hand -to his ear to show that his hardness of hearing had prevented him from -getting Jerningham's previous answer to the same question. - -"My father!" Mr. Jemingham nodded twice, to show that those two words -told the whole story. - -"Ah, yes! And then?" The reporter looked as if instant death Would -follow the non-receipt of information; and Jerningham, as though against -a lifelong determination to be silent, spoke--and frowned as he spoke: - -"My father! He was a coachman in the employ of old David Soulett, who -was the son of Walter and the father of Richard and David the third, and -of Madge, who married the Duke of Peterborough. Old David Soulett--the -second, he was--was my father's employer. My father was English. He came -to New York when he was eighteen. He went straight into the Souletts' -stable, became head coachman, and lived with the family for fifty years. -They pensioned him off. I grew up with the boys--called one another by -our first names. Do you get that?--by our first names!" - -Jemingham compressed his lips tightly and nodded. His eyes filled with -reminiscence--sweet, yet sad. - -"You did, eh?" said the reporter. - -If J. Willoughby had been addicted to slang he would have used the same -wondering tone of voice and would have exclaimed, "What do you know -about that!" - -"And that is why I went to the Klondike!" - -There are times when a man's voice and attitude show that he is speaking -in italics. This was one of the times. Having said all there was to be -said, he turned to the tea with a gesture of such determination -that Parkhurst leaned over, half expecting to see a dozen starving -grizzly-bears jump out of the cup. Then the thought came to the watchful -reporter that the grim-shut lips merely expressed that some memory was -bitter. He asked, very sympathetically, "Did they send you away?" - -"They did not send me away. They did nothing! They were! That's all. It -was enough." - -"Yes, of course!" The reporter agreed with Jerningham absolutely. "But I -don't quite see the exact reason, as you might say." - -"They were!" explained Jerningham as one might talk to a child. "They -were Souletts, rich by inheritance, in the best society. They had -everything I did not have. So I went to the Klondike." - -"Yes?" - -"Is it not clear?" - -"No!" said the reporter, grateful for the chance to use the plain -negative. - -"They were in the Four Hundred. They were gentlemen. They were -good-looking, pleasant-mannered, kindly-hearted fellow-Christians. But -if they had not been the sons of David Soulett, and if David had not -been the son of Walter, and Walter the son of the first David, they -wouldn't have been in the Four Hundred, or in the Four Thousand even. -Policemen at the corners used to touch their hats to them as they drove -by and seemed really glad to get a pleasant smile in return. You -felt the cops would never have dreamt of taking a Soulett to the -station-house--always to the Soulett mansion. New-Yorkers used to point -to it--the Soulett mansion--with an air of pride, as though they owned -it! Clerks in shops would send for the proprietor if one of the Souletts -walked in, and later they would brag how they said to David Soulett, -they said; and he said, said he--and so on. And why? Why, I ask you?" - -"Why?" repeated the reporter, hypnotically. - -"Because an ignorant old cuss couldn't read or write and had to go to -digging graves in Trinity churchyard for a living. It was old David's -proud boast that he put away one thousand six hundred and thirty-two -people, including the very best there were in literature, art, -science, theology, commerce, and finance, besides nineteen murderers, -thirty-eight pet slaves, and one dog of his own. A very snob among -grave-diggers, laying the foundation for the nonsnobbishness of his -great-grandchildren! Digging graves, you see, turned his mind to soil. -The only thing that didn't burn up or evaporate or shrink was soil. -Genius for real estate they call his madness to-day. But it was an -obsession. He bought a farm in what is now the swell shopping district; -and another where the Hotel Regina is; and another beginning where the -Vandeventer houses are. The old lunatic's mad purchases are now worth -one hundred and fifty million dollars; and he himself is an ancestor, -with fake portraits showing an intellectual-looking country squire. -Grave-digger--that's what! But the money really began with him and the -near-gentleman with Walter, who knew the best families because his father -buried them one after another. By the time the real-estate market got -to going in earnest David was born--of course a gentleman! What did it? -Unearned money!" - -"Yes. But what's digging graves got to do with your going to the -Klondike?" - -"Everything. It gave me the secret of it--the unearned part. Don't you -see?" - -"No." - -"My dear sir, I loved the company of the Soulett boys and I enjoyed the -society of their equals. So I naturally desired to become their equal. -To become a gentleman I had to become rich. But the money must not be -earned; so I couldn't make it in trade--which, moreover, was too slow. -The careers of butcher, plumber, and liquor-dealer, that might have made -me rich quickly, were closed to me by the social disqualifications they -carry. And the careers of Jim Sands and Bill Train in Wall Street were -too malodorous; besides which, you can't make very much money on the -Stock Exchange without treading on influential social toes. Hence the -Klondike. Do you see now?" - -"I'm beginning to." - -"Well?" - -"Do you mean," said the reporter, to get it straight, "that you went -to the Klondike to make money so as to climb--I mean, so as to go into -society?" - -"Exactly so! Yes, sir! And I tell you, Mr. Parker--" - -"Park-_hurst!_" said J. Willoughby, with a frown of injured vanity. - -"Mr. Parkhurst, a man has to have some strong motive to enable him to -conquer success. In all my wanderings for twenty-five years, prospecting -in Montana, Wyoming, Utah, Colorado, the Southwest, Nevada, California, -Oregon, and Washington, and finally all over Alaska, I had but one -object in mind, one purpose. It sustained me. It gave me courage when -others despaired; it kept me marching onward when others fell by -the wayside and died or became sheep-ranchers. I had no thought for -amusement, none for pleasure, none for love. I simply kept up my search. -It was the search for happiness that the old knights used to go out on. -It was a search, Mr. Parker-hurst, for the yellow admission ticket to -the Four Hundred!" - -"Have you found it?" J. Willoughby could not help it. - -"Let me tell you," pursued Jerningham, ignoring the question. "I used to -read the society columns of the New York papers whenever I felt myself -growing discouraged; and that always revived me. Up in the Klondike I -had saved fifteen hundred dollars and I paid one thousand dollars in -gold-dust for a six-months-old copy of a society paper which had an -account of Mrs. Masters's ball. To me, 'among those present' meant more -than a list of gilt-edge bonds. I've got it yet." - -He paused to take from his pocket-book a tattered clipping and showed -it to the newspaper man with a mixture of pride and tenderness and -solicitude lest it be harmed, as a father shows the only extant -photograph of the most wonderful baby in captivity. - -"I thought my name would fit in very nicely between the Janeways and the -Jesups. It was a good investment, that one thousand dollars, for I -felt I had to get a gait on, and that very same day I went on that -prospecting trip to the Endicott Mountains which changed my luck for me. -Everything came my way then--I mean, in mining. I am getting six hundred -thousand dollars a year out of my claims; and that is because I believe -fifty thousand dollars a month enough for a bachelor. More would -be--er--sort of ostentatious. Don't you think so?" - -"Yes, indeed," agreed J. Willoughby Parkhurst, with a shudder. - -"When I marry I'll make it one hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars -a month." - -"I agree with you," said Parkhurst--"because, really, two cannot live as -cheaply as one." He thrilled when he thought how he would play up that -promised income in his story. - -"That's what I say," Jerningham said, gratefully. "Of course there's -the seven millions and a half of gold-dust I have brought with me. It's -downstairs." His grim mouth became more determinedly grim than ever. -This man was the kind that gets what he wants, with or without money. He -will not climb, thought Parkhurst; he will vault into society. He asked -Jerningham: - -"Have you really got that much down-stairs? I mean," he hastily -corrected himself, "have you no fear of the danger of going about with -that much loose change?" - -"No. It's guarded by men who are getting big pay for being honest. You -can buy honesty--if you treat it as a luxury and pay for it as such. -Each box weighs one hundred and fifty pounds, for convenience in -handling. Would you like to see the stuff?" He could not hide a -boyish eagerness--not at all offensive--to impress his new friend. -J. Willoughby Parkhurst forgave him in advance, and to prove it said, -heartily: - -"Very much indeed!" - -"Very well. Please come with me." And he led the way to the engine-room. -They went down two flights. At the door of the engine-room they met -the engineer, who bowed with an obsequiousness that indicated sincere -gratitude and renewed hope--as of a man who has received a handsome -gratuity and is expecting another. - -In the middle of the concrete floor, of the engine-room, piled up in an -amazingly small mound of boxes, was the gold. - -"Each box has about fifty thousand dollars in dust," explained -Jerningham, with what one might have called a matter-of-fact pride. -"Would you like to open one?" - -"I don't want to put you to any trouble--not for worlds; but I do want -to see the inside of one like anything." - -"No trouble. I say, Mr. Wilkinson," to the hotel engineer, who had -followed them, a deferential smile fastened to his face, "could you get -me a hammer and chisel and a screw-driver?" - -"Certainly, Mr. Jerningham," said the engineer, with obvious pride at -being part of an extraordinary adventure. He reappeared presently with -the tools and a burly assistant. They pried off the steel hoop and -cracked off the sealing-wax from over the heads of the screws that held -the lid in place. They then unscrewed the cover--and there before their -wide-gaping eyes was a boxful of yellow Yukon gold. - -Jerningham smilingly looked at J. Willoughby Parkhurst and waved his -hand toward the treasure--a gesture that said Help yourself!--only it -said it humorously. And so the reporter smiled indulgently and plunged -his hand in it. - -"How heavy!" he exclaimed, involuntarily. He had meant to be witty, as -penniless people always are in the presence of great wealth to show that -they are not impressed. - -"It will be light enough to blow away here," said Jerningham so -seriously that nobody smiled--indeed, everybody hoped for a blast in -the direction of his own pocket. Put Jerningham merely said: "Thank you. -Will you screw it on again?" And the engineer did. Jerningham did not -stay to see the rescrewing finished. He took Parkhurst's arm and walked -out. The reporter told him: - -"I can't help thinking it was imprudent. The detectives now know they -can open the boxes and--" - -"It isn't likely that all eight will be dishonest at the same minute. -That's why I got eight instead of four. But, even if they all wanted -to, how much could they get away with? With the contents of one of the -boxes, fifty thousand dollars? Well, that isn't much. I can't afford to -let that gold be a bother to me. I brought it along so that it could be -my servant--not for me to be its slave." - -"I've heard others make that selfsame remark," said J. Willoughby, -cheerfully, "but they never struck off the aureate shackles!" - -"My friend, it's not in striking off shackles; that is always difficult. -The secret is in not letting them become shackles!" said Jerningham, -grimly. "A man does not confidently expect during twenty-five years to -strike it rich some day without very carefully thinking of what he is -going to do with the gold after he gets it." - - - -II - -The story, as James Willoughby Parkhurst wrote it, and even as the -_Planet_ printed it, was a masterpiece. It was far more interesting than -a fake. The truth often may be stranger than fiction, but it is seldom -so exciting. With the generous desire to repay Jerningham's hospitality -with kindness, to say nothing of an eye for the picturesque, the -reporter made his victim an Admirable Crichton. Parkhurst's -Jerningham was very distinguished-looking, which every woman knows is -better for a man than being handsome. He not only was "probably the -richest man in the world," but a fine linguist--indeed, a philologist. -You saw Jerningham digging in his gravel-bank by day---spadeful after -spadeful of clear gold-dust--and at nights reading Aristophanes in the -original by the flickering and malodorous light of seal-fat lamps. - -On the same day that Jerningham learned that his own wealth was -practically inexhaustible, and decided to limit his income in order that -gold might not be demonetized, he--the philologist in him--discovered -also amazing analogies between certain Eskimo and Aleutian words and -their equivalents in Tibetan. This and a monograph on "Totemism in -the Light of Its Undoubted Babylonian Origin," he would read in London -before the Royal Society. Of Jerningham's ancestry the article said that -the erudite Croesus was "of the Long Island Jerninghams." - -At three separate and distinct places in the article, each time -differently worded, but the intention and purpose thereof being the -same, the writer said that for generosity, lavish extravagance, capacity -for spending, and deep-rooted belief that there was no difference -between gold coins and stage money, the learned Klondiker was a -combination of Monte Cristo, Boni de Castellane, Coal-Oil Johnny, and -Alcibiades--only more so. But his feverish efforts were all in vain--he -only grew richer! If he decided to give a million to a newsboy who was -polite, that same moment he would be sure to get a cablegram from one of -his superintendents that the vein had widened to three miles and the -assays jumped to three hundred thousand dollars a ton. - -Parkhurst finished by saying that Jerningham had no use for women. In -divers countries world-famous sirens had sung to him--in vain. He -was the kind that registered zero, even though plunged to the chin in -Vesuvian lava. So the dear things might as well save time, breath, and -muscular exertion; he would have none of them, no matter what their age, -color of hair, temperament, accomplishments, or even faces might be. -He was arrow-proof and Cupid had given up trying. Still, there must be -One--somewhere! - -When J. Willoughby Parkhurst went to the Hotel Brabant on Monday morning -in the hope of a second-day story, he was not sure how Jerningham would -take his masterpiece. He was going so early in the hope of shunting -off the head-line artists of the afternoon papers, for all that he had -begged Stewart to fix it so that nobody got to Jerningham before the -_Planet_ man turned up. - -As he entered the lobby he saw in a corner lounge five reporters -from the yellows, three photographers from same, a professor from the -Afternoon Three-Center, and a "psychological portraitist," feminine and -fat, but dressed with unusual care and even piquancy, from a magazine. -He saw Jemingham's finish--not! - -The competitors were too busy talking to see J. Willoughby Parkhurst, -author of the day's sensation, walk up to the desk and greet Stewart -affectionately. They did not see J. W. P. turn sharply, approach a -well-built, square-shouldered man, with an outdoor complexion, who had -just emerged from the elevator, and shake hands warmly. - -After one and a half seconds of dialogue, consisting of "Good morning!" -and "Good morning!" J. Willoughby cleverly realized that Mr. Alfred -Jemingham could not possibly have read the article. On general -principles he took the Klondiker to one end of the corridor, out of -sight of the other reporters. - -"I am very anxious to make arrangements to store my gold in some bank's -vaults. I don't know any bank--that is, I have no account in any; and I -wondered if I needed to be introduced." - -Jemingham looked anxiously at Parkhurst. - -"Of course!" said J. Willoughby, and immediately looked alarmed. "Of -course! They are very particular--very! The good ones, you know. A man's -bank is like a man's club--it can give him a social standing or it can -prove he hasn't any." He looked at his Klondike friend with a frown of -anxiety. - -"I never thought of that side of it. But I can see there is much in what -you say. I should like to put the gold in the VanTwiller Trust Company." - -"Fine! I think I can help you. I'll call up our Wall Street man and he -will make the trust company take it--unless he thinks there is another -still better. Let's go to your room and telephone from there; and we'll -tell Stewart to tell the telephone operator not to bother us--what?" - -J. Willoughby intended that Jemingham should be the sole and exclusive -property of the _Planet_. From Jerningham's sumptuous room he called up -the office, ordered a corps of photographers to the battlefield to take -pictures of sundry loads of gold on trucks on their way to the great -vaults, escorted by the _Planet's_ special commissioner in one of the -armored automobiles which the _Planet_ supplied to its bright young men. - -Then he called up Amos F. Kidder, the _Planet's_ financial editor; -and Kidder, who, of course, knew the president of the VanTwiller -Trust Company, Mr. Ashton Welles, hustled thitherward and made all -arrangements, including the securing of the trucks owned by Tommy -O'Loughlin, who did all the gold-trucking for W. H. Garrettson & -Company, Wolff, Herzog & Company, and other gold-shipping banking firms. -Photographers were duly stationed at the various points by which the -aureate procession would pass. - -Mr. J. Willoughby Parkhurst had the boxes of gold-dust taken out by the -ash-and-cinder exit, caused his fellow-reporters to be "tipped off" by -hall-boys that the gold would be taken away at twelve-thirty sharp to -the Metropolitan National Bank vaults, and then took Jerningham in the -_Planet's_ automobile and followed the trucks. - -In Wall Street Parkhurst introduced Jerningham to the waiting Kidder, -and Kidder introduced Jerningham to the waiting Mr. Welles. The gold was -carried down to the vaults. Jerningham separated twenty boxes from the -heap. - -"I'd like to have these cashed," he said, with that delightful humor of -all very rich men. And everybody within hearing laughed, as everybody -always laughs at the so-delightful humor of all very rich men. There was -not a clerk in the trust company who did not repeat the historic remark -at home that night. - -Word of what was happening went about, and soon the great little narrow -street was blocked by people who wished to see six or eight millions go -into a place where there were one hundred and fifty. But there was this -difference--the one hundred and fifty already there would stay there; -but a handful or two of the six or eight might be distributed among -those present by the latest Coal-Oil Johnny from the Klondike. The hope -of a stray nugget or two kept two thousand busy people about the doors -of the VanTwiller Trust Company nearly two hours. - -As for Jerningham, the trust company was to send the twenty boxes of -gold-dust to the Assay Office and credit Mr. Jerninghan's account with -the proceeds of the sale thereof. Two days later Mr. Alfred Jerningham -had to his credit in the VanTwiller Trust Company $1,115,675.28; and -in the vaults boxes containing, as per his most conservative estimates, -gold-dust valued at six millions and a half. And everybody knew -it--the Planet saw to that. Great potentialities in that golden fame of -Jerningham's--what? - - - -III - -The _Planet's_ official version of the Jerningham affair, and the flood -of sensational literature turned loose on the community by the other -papers, made the Klondiker's name as familiar to New-Yorkers as a -certain breakfast-food advertisement. - -His daily mail was enormous, especially after the newspapers said that -he was looking for a house in which to entertain. "The richest bachelor -in the world," he was called, and the real-estate agents acted -accordingly. So did no end of unattached females of dubious age, but -of not at all dubious intentions. Also it became known that he needed a -social secretary to guide him in two things--the two things being -whom to invite and how to spend six hundred thousand dollars a year in -entertaining those who were invited by the social adviser. - -The applications came by the dozen--in the strictest confidence. If -somebody had said this aloud in the hearing of society, society would -have laughed scornfully. A gentleman was always a gentleman, and could -never, never be secretary to a parvenu! But, for all that, there were -scores of well-born men who appeared willing enough--don't you know?--to -help spend the six hundred thousand a year. Or else some historic names -were forged by dastards. The _Planet's_ society editor, who would never -allow herself to be called editress, proved invaluable as a living Who's -Who, and demonstrated her worth to her paper by making connections that -would further her work; for she was much sought by people who wished -introductions to Mr. Jerningham. - -They would trade with her--items for letters. - -It helped all concerned that not only Parkhurst, but the rest of the -kind-hearted space-grabbers, informed the world that the possessor of -the income of six hundred thousand a year was a fount of erudition, and -withal a man of the world, with exquisite manners--invulnerable to the -optical artillery of the fairest sirens on earth. And always the six -hundred thousand dollars a year to spend, so that the beastly stuff -would not accumulate and choke up the passages of the palace he proposed -to build! That was how Francis Wolfe came to be introduced to Mr. -Jerningham by J. Willoughby Parkhurst, and how the position was -delicately offered to him, and how F. Wolfe delicately accepted. - -A fine-looking, well-built young fellow, this Frank--dark-eyed, -black-haired, with a wonderfully clean pink but virile complexion that -made him physically very attractive. In those Broadway restaurants that -have become institutions Francis Wolfe was himself an institution. His -debts were discussed as freely as the cost of gasoline. And yet the -chorus contingent and their lady friends, consisting of the most -beautiful women in all the world, not only preferred, but publicly and -on the slightest provocation proclaimed their preference for, Frank -Wolfe penniless to almost any one else--short of millions. But if Frank -Wolfe was the chorus-girls' pet, Mr. Francis Wolfe was the only brother -of Mrs. John Burt and Mrs. Sydney Walsingham, and favorite nephew of old -Mrs. Stimson. And everybody knew what that meant! - -J. Willoughby Parkhurst left them alone, even if he was a reporter. - -"If you do not mind talking business," said Jerningham, with a -deprecatory smile. - -"Not at all," eagerly said young Wolfe, who was consumed by curiosity -to listen to the golden statistics. "In fact," he added, with a burst of -boyish candor, "I'd be glad to have you." - -"You are a nice boy!" said Jemingham, so gratefully and non-familiarly -that Frank could not find fault with him. - -"I need a friend," continued Jerningham. "I know friendship cannot be -bought. It grows--but there must be a seed. It may be that after you -know me better you will give me your friendship. That is for the future. -I also need a man! A man whom I can trust! A man, young Mr. Francis -Wolfe," he said, with a sternness that impressed young Mr. Francis -Wolfe, "who will not laugh at me!" - -Frank was not an intellectual giant, but neither was he an utter ass. He -said, very seriously, "Go on!" - -"I am willing to pay such a man twenty-five thousand a year--" He paused -and almost frowned. - -"Go on!" again said young Mr. Wolfe, looking the Klondiker straight in -the eyes. - -"Twenty-five thousand dollars--to begin with!" - -"Yes?" said young Mr. Wolfe, quite calmly. - -"The duties of such a man--and keep in mind I mean a man when I say a -man!--entail nothing whatever of a menial or dishonorable character; -nothing to which a gentleman could possibly object. But it would -necessitate a certain spirit of good-will toward me. I am not only -willing, but even anxious, to pay twenty-five thousand dollars a year, -and all traveling expenses, to a clean-minded young man who, for all his -wild-oat sowing, is a gentleman and will learn to like me enough not to -laugh at me when I intrust him with the secret desire of my heart." - -Before Frank's thoughts could crystallize into the definite suspicion -that Jerningham wanted to be helped to climb socially, Jemingham went on -so coldly that again young Wolfe was impressed: - -"You will admit, Mr. Wolfe, that a man who has prospected all over -North America from the Rio Grande to the Arctic Circle, and who has, -unfortunately, been compelled"--he rose, went to his bureau, brought -out two revolvers of a rather old-fashioned kind--"compelled against his -will to draw first"--he showed the young man about a dozen notches in -the handle of one of them--"one who fears no man and no government and -no blackmailer; who owns the richest placer mines in the world--is not -apt to be an emotional ass!" There was a pause. But Jemingham continued -before young Wolfe could speak: "Neither is he a damned fool--what?" - -Mr. Francis Wolfe felt he had to say something, so he said, "I -shouldn't think so." - -He felt that Jemingham was not a man to trifle with--a tough customer -in a rough-and-tumble fight; a man who had taken life in preserving his -own; altogether a man, a character, who would make an admirable topic of -conversation with both men and women--therefore a man to be interested -in. - -"Do you know Mr. Ashton Welles?" asked Jer-ningham, almost sharply. - -"Not intimately." - -"Do you know Mrs. Ashton Welles?" - -"Same answer." - -"Ever dine at their house?" - -Frank thought a moment. He had dined at so many people's houses. "No," -he answered, finally. "Could you?" - -"How do you mean?" - -"Are your relations with Welles such, or could they be cultivated so, as -to make him invite you--not me--you!--to dine at his house?" - -"Look here, Mr. Jerningham," and young Mr. Wolfe's face flushed, "a -fellow doesn't do some things for money; and this is one--" - -"I know it! Not for money. For friendship, yes! That's why--you -understand now, don't you?" He looked so earnestly at young Wolfe that -Frank absolved him of wrong-doing. - -"No, I don't!" said the young man. - -"Did you ever know Randolph Deering, who used to be president of the -VanTwiller Trust Company?" - -"Do you mean Mrs. Welles's father?" - -"Yes." - -"I don't recall speaking to him more than to say 'How do you do?' I -don't remember when or how I met him." - -"Do you know Mrs. Deering, Mrs. Welles's mother?" - -"No." - -"Do you know anybody who does?" - -"I suppose I do." - -"Anybody who would give you a letter of introduction?" - -"I don't know. If my aunt or my sisters know her it would be easy. But, -of course, I should have to know first why I should want to meet her." - -"Of course. Did you ever hear anything about Mrs. Welles's sister, Naida -Deering?" - -"Didn't know she had a sister." - -"Then, of course, you never saw her." - -Francis Wolfe thought a long time. His mind did not work very quickly -at any time. At length he said: "I don't think there could have been -a sister, for I never heard of her having any; indeed, I distinctly -remember hearing that she was an only child. Maybe she was a cousin -or--er--something of the sort." - -"No; Naida was a sister; a good deal older and--But we are drifting -away from business. Will you accept my proposition to be my--er--adviser -in certain matters on which I think you are qualified to give advice, -and accept twenty-five thousand dollars a year?" - -"Do you mind if I speak frankly?" - -"Certainly not. Speak ahead." - -"Are you offering me this--er--salary when, of course, I know I am not -worth a da--a cent in business; I mean, isn't it really in exchange for -what I may be able to do for you in a--a social way? You know what I -mean." - -"No, sir!" said Jerningham, decisively. "Not for an instant! I do not, -dear Mr. Wolfe, give an infinitesimal damn for what is called society." - -"But I thought Jimmy Parkhurst told me--" - -"I cannot help what Jimmy Parkhurst told you; but I tell you that I like -interesting people, and I don't care who or what they are socially. I -hate bores--whether they are hod-carriers or dukes. If I can meet people -who will instruct me when I want to learn, or amuse me when I want to -laugh, I'm satisfied. And I can always meet that kind without anybody's -help. You know how it is." Then he spoke perhaps thirty words in a -foreign language that Frank thought must be Hungarian. "You remember -your Latin, of course. That's from Petronius." - -"I thought so!" said Frank Wolfe, the pet of the chorus-girls, laughing -to himself. Remember his Latin! He? Haw! - -"It is from his 'Cena Trimalchionis.' The _arbiter elegantiarum_ knew -what social climbers might be expected to do, though I neither boast -of my money nor do I eat with my knife. The Latin of the 'Cena' is -difficult--too slangy, full of the _sermo plebeius_." - -"Yes, it is," agreed Frank, so gravely that it was all he could do to -keep from laughing at himself. This Klondiker was not only a gun-fighter -and richer than Croesus, but also a highbrow! Could you beat it? - -"Will you accept my offer? Will you try to be my friend?" - -"Suppose I find I can't?" - -"I'll be sorry. The money is nothing. The inability to make a friend -will be my real loss." - -"Well, we might try six months." He looked inquiringly at Jerningham. "I -don't exactly know what you wish me to do." - -"Become my friend! You yourself said some things cannot be done for -money by a gentleman; but there is nothing--so long as it is not -dishonorable--that a gentleman may not do for a friend. Shall I explain -a little more?" He looked anxiously at young Mr. Wolfe. - -"Yes--do," said Frank. It occurred to him that this singular man was in -reality proceeding with a curious delicacy. - -"Just as soon as you feel you know me I will ask you to help me. Mrs. -Deering is now abroad. Mrs. Welles may be of help to us. Mr. Wolfe, now -that I am not so poor as I was, I want to find Naida Deering, the only -woman I ever loved--and, God help me, the only woman I still love!" - -Jerningham rose hastily and walked up and down the room, his face -persistently turned away from Wolfe. He walked to a window and stared -at the sky a long time. Finally he turned to the young man, who was -watching him, and said, with profound conviction: - -"_Amare et sapere vix deo conceditur!_" - -Young Mr. Wolfe at first felt like saying, "Yes, indeed!" which would, -as a matter of fact, have been a very pat retort. But he weakened and -said, "What is that quotation from?" - -"Publilius Syrus. Mr. Wolfe, I must find her. And of course I can't -employ a private detective. You understand?" - -"Yes. That is true," said Frank. - -"In her youth something happened." Young Mr. Wolfe sat up straight. Here -at last was something really vital! Jerningham proceeded: "She was a -high-strung girl--pure as gold. Her very innocence made her indiscreet. -There was no scandal--no, indeed! But she disappeared. And now, when I -have more than enough money for the two of us, I wish to find her. If I -don't--of what possible good are my millions? Tell me that!" - -Jerningham glared so angrily at young Mr. Wolfe that young Mr. Wolfe -felt a slight spasm of concern. The Klondiker had a metallic gray eye -that at times menaced like cold steel. - -"Excuse me!" said Jerningham, contritely. "My dear boy, do you know what -it is to go chasing over the landscape for years and years in the hope -of striking it some day so as to be able to go back to your native city -and marry the one woman in all the world--particularly when she was one -whom her parents, not understanding her nature, practically disowned? In -all my prospecting what I wanted was to find Naida's mine--gold by the -ton--so I could buy back her place in society!" - -There was such determination in Jerningham's voice and look that young -Wolfe felt a thrill of admiration and, with it, a distinct masculine -liking. - -"That's a great story!" he said. "I never heard of your--er--Miss Naida. -She never married, I suppose?" - -"I don't know! I don't know! She promised to wait for me. The Deerings -used to live in Jersey; and living in Jersey when I was a kid wasn't -what it is to-day. They were not prominent in society. Of course the -Deerings kept it quiet. I think Mrs. Welles may know where her sister -is--the sister who is never mentioned by her own flesh and blood! Mrs. -Deering, of course, does; but she is abroad somewhere. I must find -Naida, I tell you--and--" Jerningham was silent, but Wolfe saw that he -was breathing quickly, as though he had been running. Frank never -read anything except the afternoon papers, love-letters, and the more -romantic of the best-sellers. He now very laboriously constructed a -romance of Jemingham's life that became so thrilling it took away -his own breath. It made him feel very kindly toward the new -Jerningham--everybody feels kindly toward his own creations; and so he -said, in a burst of enthusiasm: - -"By George! I'll help you!" - -And thus was begun the pact between the two men. - -IV - -On the very, next morning Mr. Jerningham, instead of going to Wall -Street as was his custom, went instead to Mrs. Charlton Morris's Agency -for Trained Nurses. - -An empress--no less--sat at a desk. She was not, however, one of those -empresses who change the destiny of nations by their beauty. She had -merely an arrogance more than royal. - -"I should like to see Mrs. Charlton Morris," said Jerningham, briskly. - -"I am Mrs. Morris," she said. - -You at once perceived that she was even more than imperial. She was a -woman of forty, dark, slender, with shell-rimmed, round lenses that gave -her that look between a Chinese philosopher and an ancient owl, which -those tortoise-shell goggles always do. You also obtained the impression -that a completely successful operation had removed Mrs. Morris's sense -of humor. - -"I should like, if you please--" began Jerningham; but Mrs. Morris -interrupted with an effect as of thrusting an icicle into the interior -mechanism of a clock. - -"I beg your pardon, but we must know with whom we are dealing. What is -the name, please?" - -"I prefer not to give you mine yet." - -"Oh no, sir; I must know." - -"Suppose I had given you a false one, how would you have been the -wiser?" - -"Oh, but also you must give me the name of your doctor." - -"He sent me here." - -"And who is he, sir?" - -From her voice and her look you gathered that she was in charge of a -hospital and was obtaining indispensable clinical data. - -"Madam," said Jemingham, very coldly indeed, "you talk like the census -man. Would you also like to know my age, sex, and color?" - -"We never," retorted Mrs. Morris, imperturbably, "do business with -strangers." - -"Do you want me to get a letter from the President of the United States? -I know him pretty well. Or from my bankers? They are known even in -Brooklyn." - -"We are here to supply trained nurses to people whose physicians we -know." - -A trained nurse must have unfailing good humor--it is part of her -professional requirements. But a purveyor of trained nurses may permit -herself much dignity, as though her mission in life consisted, of -fitting nurses to cases--the best nurse for the worst case. - -"My doctor," said Jerningham, "is Dr. Jewett." It was the name of a very -great surgeon. - -"Ah, yes. Surgical case! Yes! I have Miss Sennett and Miss Audrey. Dr. -Jewett knows them very well." - -"Kindly wait a second! I must see them myself. And it is not a surgical -case. It is no case at all--yet. Show me the girls!" - -"Sir, this is not an intelligence-office; but--" - -"I know there is no intelligence in this office. This is merely the -anteroom of a hospital and you are the superintendent. By rights you -ought to be on the faculty. I am perfectly willing to pay for any loss -of time or trouble to which you and the young ladies may be put." - -"Must she be young?" asked Mrs. Morris. - -Her voice was at least thirty degrees below zero, for all that there was -no devilishness about Mr. Jerningham. He said: - -"Yes; and good-looking--not a girl in her teens, but a young woman. -I should say, without meaning to be personal, about your age, Mrs. -Morris." - -It was plain that Mrs. Morris had almost superhuman control over her -facial muscles--she did not beam on him! - -"I understand," she said, in a quite human voice. This man was, after -all, neither rude nor blind. "A woman--" - -"About thirty--or a little less," said Jerningham. He looked at Mrs. -Morris's face and nodded confirmatively. - -"Exactly," said Mrs. Morris, genially. First impressions are so apt to -be unfair! - -"I'll be more than satisfied with one of your age and good -loo--and--er--appearance "--here the Morris smile irrepressibly made -its début--"and also tactful. It is an unusual case. It will necessitate -going to Europe." - -"With the patient?" - -"For the patient," said Jerningham, and waited. - -"If you will tell me a little bit more about the case--" said Mrs. -Morris, encouragingly. She had just taken a good look at the pearl in -the scarf of this delightful judge of ages--at the lowest estimation, -five thousand dollars! - -"My--I--We have reason to believe that a--friend is ill in London. -Kidneys. We wish her to take care of herself. She is a woman of -fifty-odd. We want a nurse, refined, well-bred, good-looking, and -competent--like yourself; so that she could be a companion and at home -among wealthy people. You know what I mean." He paused. - -"Perfectly, sir!" said Mrs. Morris, veraciously. Did she not know Mrs. -Morris? - -"It would be nice to find such a nurse--and, if possible, also one to -whom the fact that she is going to visit England, and possibly other -countries, may be a sort of compensation for her sudden departure -from New York. Of course she will be paid all her traveling and living -expenses--first-class all through--and her regular honorarium. I believe -it is thirty-five dollars a week. As I am leaving New York myself soon, -I'll pay in advance, and will leave instructions with my bankers to -honor any of your drafts, Mrs. Morris. It will be a good opportunity for -the young lady to know London--and you know how attractive it is--and -Paris!" - -"Yes, indeed," acquiesced Mrs. Morris, suddenly looking like Baedeker. - -"The young lady--I am sorry you could not go in her place! Yes, I -am!--will live at the same hotel with the patient and become acquainted -with her--and advise her to see a physician regularly--a specialist in -kidney diseases. We think her only daughter ought to be with her. But -you can't say anything to either of them, because if the mother doesn't -think she is ill the daughter cannot know it, either. We only suspect it -is Bright's. You can't afford to wait until you have to go to bed with -Bright's--can you?" - -"No, indeed!" gravely agreed Mrs. Morris, specialist. - -"So now you know what sort of a girl I wish--one who will be there if -the trouble should take a sudden turn for the worse; one who will induce -the old lady to consult a physician. Do I have to give a preliminary -fee?" - -"Not at all. Call this afternoon at four and I'll try to have one of my -best nurses here. She is--well, quite young; in fact"--with what might -be called a desiccated archness--"she is a little younger than I and -quite pretty. I call her handsome!" - -Some women are so sure of their own position that they do not fear -competition. - -"Thank you! I'll be here at four, sharp." And Mr. Jemingham went away -without having given his name to Mrs. Morris. - -At four o'clock Mr. Jemingham called at Mrs. Charlton Morris's agency -and had an interview with Miss Kathryn Keogh. Mrs. Morris gave them the -use of her own little private office; Jemingham very impressively waited -for Miss Keogh to sit down and then did so himself. - -He threw at Miss Keogh one of those inventorying looks that women find -so difficult to appear unconscious of, probably because they know their -own weak points. - -Miss Keogh was beautiful--and when an Irish girl is beautiful she is -beautiful in so many ways! She had the wonderful complexion of her race -and a mouth carved out of heaven's prize strawberry. Her eyes were an -incredibly deep blue when they were not an incredibly deep pansy-purple, -and they were abysses of velvet. In the darkness, without seeing -them--just by remembering them--you loved those eyes. In the light, when -you could see them, you simply worshiped! Her throat was one of those -paradoxical affairs, soft and hard, which made you think at one and the -same time of marble and rose-leaves--Solomon's tower of ivory, crowned -by the glory of golden-brown hair, so fine that you thought of clouds of -it! - -If you looked at her eyes you suspected, and if you looked at her throat -you were certain that you, a respectable married man, had in you the -makings of a criminal--the crime being bigamy. Also you would have -sworn to her only too cheerfully that she was the only girl you had ever -loved. With one look, remember! - -Jemingham looked at her with a cold, impersonally appreciative eye, as -he might have scrutinized a clock that was both beautiful and costly. - -Miss Keogh understood it perfectly. It piqued her, accustomed as she was -to instant adoration. Yet it was not entirely displeasing. This man knew -as a connoisseur knows--with his head. That he had not permitted the -silly heart to disturb the critical faculties was less flattering, -of course. It deferred the inevitable triumph and thus would make it -sweeter. - -"Has Mrs. Morris told you what I should like you to do?" Jemingham's -voice was coldly emotionless, and his gray eyes showed frosty lights. - -"She has told me what you doubtless told her. But I must confess I am -not very clear in my own mind," answered Miss Keogh. - -Her voice was what you would have expected an artistic Providence to -give her. It complemented the lips. If you closed your eyes and heard -the voice you saw her eyes and felt the heavenly strawberries on your -own lips! - -Jemingham had not taken his cold eyes off her. He asked as if she -were anybody--a woman of forty, for example, "Will you listen to me -carefully?" - -"Oh yes!" - -"I provide transportation, first-class, to London. I pay you thirty-five -dollars a week for your services and allow ten dollars a day for hotel -expenses, and so on. At the end of the case your contingent fee will -depend upon your success. We don't want to skimp--but we are not -throwing away money. It may be one hundred or five hundred dollars. But -forget all about it." - -"I have--in advance," said the marvel, calmly. - -Jemingham looked at her steadily. She looked back unflinchingly and yet -not at all defiantly as a lesser person would. - -"If you accept my offer you will go when in London to Thornton's -Hotel--an old-fashioned but very select hotel--where you will find a -nice room reserved for you; I will cable for it. It will cost you a -guinea a day--for the room and table board. You will thus have five -dollars a day for cabs and incidentals. In that hotel lives Mrs. -Margaret Deering, an elderly American widow, who looks healthy enough. -We fear she is not so strong as she looks, and don't want her to be -alone. But she will not take hints. I wish you to make friends with her, -so that if she should become ill enough to need attention you may see -that she gets proper care and induce her to cable to her only daughter." -He stopped and looked at Miss Keogh inquiringly, as if to convince -himself that Miss Keogh had understood. - -"What," said Miss Keogh, calmly, "is the rest of it?" Her eyes were very -dark. They always seemed to deepen in color when she frowned. She always -frowned when she concentrated--all women do, notwithstanding their dread -of wrinkles. - -Jerningham stared at her. Then he said, "The lady is not insane." - -"Nervous?" - -"Not yet!" - -"Ah!" Miss Keogh nodded her head. Her color had risen somewhat. - -"Is there anything in what I have said so far that makes you unwilling -to take this case?" asked Jerningham. - -"Nothing--so far," she said, looking steadily into his cold, gray eyes. -She was, of course, Irish. - -"Very well. You can save her family much worriment by suggesting to Mrs. -Deering that she ought to have a trained nurse in constant attendance." - -"By the name of Keogh?" interjected the most wonderful. - -"No. You are supposed to be a young lady with an income of your own. -You might explain that you took up trained nursing to help your only -brother, a physician." - -"Very well. And--" - -"After you meet Mrs. Deering you might make judicious remarks about her -health." - -"For example--" - -"Well, at breakfast you say: 'You didn't sleep well last night, did -you?' If she says no, you can immediately suggest a physician. If she -says she did, you say: 'Well, there is something wrong with you! Did you -ever have your kidneys examined?' A simple remark in the proper tone of -voice sometimes does it--like, 'Whatever in the world is the matter with -you, dear Mrs. Deering?' You understand?" - -"If you mean that I must suggest to her that she is ailing--" - -"Precisely. The idea is not to frighten her to death, my dear young -woman with the beautiful but suspicious eyes, but simply to induce her -to send for her only daughter, so that afterward the two will not be -separated. And the old lady, I may say for the benefit of your still -suspicious eyes, is not very rich, though the daughter is. So your -imagination need not invent any devilish plot. I think you can -accomplish your work in six weeks. For every day under the six weeks -you will receive five pounds. That's twenty-five dollars a day. That is -intended, Miss Keogh, to make you hurry. But you must be tactful." - -"Make it a fixed sum. You look like a clever man." - -She looked at him challengingly. He stared back, and gradually a look of -admiration came into his eyes. He said, with a smile of appreciation: - -"You win! You are certainly the most wonderful girl in the world! I'll -make it one thousand dollars, win, lose, or draw. But the quicker the -cablegram--" - -"--grams," she corrected--"plural. For greater effect at this end!" - -"--grams!" he echoed. "And now you must come with me to the bank to get -your letter of credit and some English money. I'll pay in advance." - -He rose. Miss Keogh motioned to him to sit down again. He did so, and -looked at her alertly. It might have disconcerted some girls--but not -the only absolutely perfect one. Not at all! - -"There remains something," she said. - -"What?" he queried, sharply. - -"You forgot it!" she told him, with one of those utterly maddening -smiles of forgiveness with which beautiful women rivet the fetters and -make one grateful. - -"What? What?" he asked, impatiently. - -"Why?" she answered. "That is what! Why?" - -Her beautiful head nodded twice with a birdlike gracefulness. Her eyes -were very blight--and very dark! Her cheeks were flushed. Her ripe lips, -slightly parted, were overpoweringly tempting. - -Jerningham stood up again and stared fixedly at her as though he would -read miles and miles beyond her wonderful eyes--into the very depths -of her soul! He approached her and held out both his hands. After a -scarcely perceptible hesitation she placed hers in his. He shook them -with profound gravity; then bowed and raised her right to his lips--and -kissed it twice. Still holding her hands in his, he said to her, -earnestly: - -"My dear child, you are the most wonderful woman in all the world. You -are simply the last word in utter perfection. I am a millionaire, but -not a crook. I am forty, but still strong. I have never been in love -with a woman; but I now know I could be. If you ever wish to marry for -the ease and comfort that great wealth gives, or if you ever feel like -using your wonderful gifts to make a man who has both money and brains -become an important personage in the world--just say the word. There is -nothing--nothing, do you hear?--that we could not do together, you and -I. My name is--" He paused and looked at her as if to make sure again. - -"Yes?" she said, in her most heavenly voice. She released her hands, but -her eyes never left his. "Jerningham." - -"The Klondike millionaire who--" - -"The same!" - -"Ah!" said Miss Keogh, calmly, but her flowerlike cheeks were -azalea-pink, and her eyes were full of light. She had read the -_Planet's_ articles. She did not remember how many million dollars -Jerningham was supposed to have; but she did remember how the fairest of -the fair had tried--and failed! - -"Remember--any time, with or without notice. My offer is open until you -accept it or definitely refuse it. Perhaps I never could make you love -me; but I know I could love you if I let myself go." - -"You have not answered me," said Miss Keogh. "Ask again," he smiled. - -"Why?" There was no smile in her eyes. - -It made him serious. He answered: - -"For friendship." - -"To a woman?" - -"To a man." - -"Again I ask, Why?" - -There was a pause. Then he said: - -"Mrs. Ashton Welles is the only daughter of Mrs. Deering." - -"And--" - -"She is twenty-two." - -"And--" - -"Her husband is fifty-two. That's all!" - -"Is it?" - -"So far as I am concerned, it is--really!" - -"Is Mr. Ashton Welles your friend?" - -"No. But he is no enemy, either." - -"No? But you have a friend, a Mr. Wolfe--a Mr. Francis Wolfe?" She knew -it from a newspaper item. - -But Mr. Jerningham jumped up from his seat. "Marry me, dear girl! Marry -me, I beg of you! You are the only woman in the world! You are the most -beautiful ever created and, beyond all question, the cleverest. You are -a genius! Why isn't all mankind on its knees worshiping? Will you marry -me? Wait! Don't speak. I know what your answer will be." - -"You do?" She smiled inscrutably. - -Imagine the Sphinx--if the Sphinx were Irish and very beautiful--with -those eyes and those lips! Guess? You couldn't guess where your soul -was--or whose! - -"Yes, I do," answered Jerningham, confidently. "I will write it on a -piece of paper and prove it. But first tell me this: Will you take Mrs. -Deering's case?" - -She looked at him, and said, "Yes." - -"Very well." He wrote something on one of his cards, doubled it so she -could not see what he had written, and gave it to her, saying, "Now -answer me: Will you marry me?" - -She looked at him a long time. He met her gaze squarely. Presently she -said, very seriously: - -"Not yet!" - -"Look in the card," he said, also very seriously. - -She did. It said: _Not yet!_ - -A vague alarm came into her purple-blue eyes. She was on the point of -speaking, but he held up his hand, and said, earnestly: - -"Please don't say it. We'll meet in London. You will enjoy the -Continent later on. Now let us go and get your letter of credit, and see -whether you like the stateroom that I ordered reserved." They did. - -On the next day Jerningham's limousine took Miss Keogh and her -hand-luggage to the steamer.-Jerningham was there to see her off. -She had invited a dozen of her friends to do the same, and they were -there--all of them women and most of them frankly envious, for her -stateroom was full of beautiful flowers and baskets of wonderful -fruit--quite as if she already were a millionaire! - -As she said good-by to Jerningham there was in her eyes a look of -intelligent, almost cold-blooded, gratitude which seemed to embrace Mr. -Jerningham's kindness, his thoughtfulness, and his bank account. - -"I wish you a very pleasant voyage!" he said. "Think over my offer. When -you get to London will you mail these letters for me? Remember, you are -to cable if you need anything, money or advice--or a husband. And cable -at once if Mrs. Deering cables. Good-by! _Bon voyage!_" - -When Miss Keogh came to open the package of letters she found in it -thirty-three, stamped with British stamps, on stationery of Thornton's -Hotel'! They were addressed in a woman's handwriting to various business -houses, some of which she recognized as manufacturers of medical goods -and agents of mineral waters of the kind used by people who suffer -from kidney diseases. It made her think that if--between the deluge -of medical prospectuses and Miss Keogh's efforts--Mrs. Deering did -not cable for her only daughter it would be a wonder! Jerningham was -neglecting nothing to succeed. - -V - -Frank Wolfe's first task in his new and now famous job consisted -of helping Jerningham buy two automobiles. Then, when the weather -permitted, they toured Westchester County and Long Island. - -Usually they took along some of Frank's men friends. It was pleasant -work---at the rate of twenty-five thousand dollars a year. - -Jerningham did not again refer to his love-affair, and Frank could not -very well allude to it; but it was perfectly plain to the young man that -within a very short time their friendship would be sufficiently strong -to justify Mr. Jerningham in asking Frank to help actively in the search -of the vanished Naida Deering. - -One day Mr. Jerningham waited in vain for young Mr. Wolfe. They had -planned to go to Mount Kisco to look at a farm that was offered for -sale, Mr. Jerningham having developed the usual millionaire's desire -to own an estate. At one o'clock the telephone-bell rang. Jerningham -answered in person. He heard a feminine voice say that Mr. Wolfe -regretted that a severe indisposition had prevented him from going -as usual to Mr. Jerningham's rooms, but he hoped to be sufficiently -recovered to have that pleasure on the next day. - -Jerningham merely said, "Say I hope it is nothing serious--and ask him, -please, whether there is anything I can do." - -Silence. Then: "He says, 'No--thanks!' It is nothing very serious." - -"Tell him not to come down until he has entirely recovered and to take -good care of himself. Good-by!" - -If Mr. Jerningham heard the tinkling music of an irrepressible giggle at -the other end of the wire he did not show it. His face was serious as -he found an address in the telephone-directory. He called up the -Brown Lecture Bureau and made an appointment to see Captain Brown, the -manager, at 3 p.m. At that hour, to the minute, he was ushered into the -private offices of the world-famous manager of the lecture bureau. - -"Captain Brown?" - -"Yes, sir. What can I do for you?" - -"I should like to know what lecturers you have available at the moment," -said Jerningham. - -The Klondiker did not look like the chairman of a church entertainment -committee or like a village philanthropist. So Captain Brown asked: - -"Where is the--er--Is it a club?" - -"No. It is myself. Here in New York." - -"Well, we provide speakers and lecturers, not exactly entertainers, -to--" - -"I know all that. I wish to know whom you could send me to entertain me. -Let me see! Is Commander Finsen, the explorer, here now?" - -"Yes." - -"And his terms?" - -"It depends upon where it is." - -Evidently Jerningham did not think Captain Brown realized what was -wanted, for he said, earnestly: - -"Captain Brown, get this clearly fixed in your mind, if you please: I -am anxious to hear some of your lecturers by myself alone, in my own -apartments. I wish men who have done things--men who are, above -all things, brave and resourceful. I don't want decadent poets, but -explorers, gentlemen adventurers, humanists, or scientists, who have a -knack of imparting their knowledge in such a way as to interest men who -are neither old nor scientific. I am perfectly willing to pay your usual -rate. What's the odds if one of your clients spends an evening with -me or whether he spends it in Norwalk, Connecticut, or Boundbrook, New -Jersey? Do you get me?" - -"Oh, perfectly. I might suggest--" - -Here the genial manager ceased speaking to smile, grateful that so -unusual a man as Jerningham should condescend to listen. It was a -habit--this thankful smiling--that came from having dealt with geniuses -for thirty years. Then Captain Brown permitted himself to suggest a -dozen or more men who had very interesting stories to tell. Jerningham -asked him to make a memorandum of the men and their specialties, and -agreed to call on Captain Brown when he needed entertainment. After -Captain Brown had given him the names and prices, Jerningham gave his -own name and address. - -Captain Brown looked grieved. He read the newspapers. He might have -asked double the fees from the Alaskan Monte Cristo! - -On the next day, when Mr. Francis Wolfe showed up with never a trace of -anything but good health on his pleasing face, Jerningham invited him to -spend the next evening in the apartments and hear Finsen tell how he had -discovered the tribe of Antarctic giants, the shortest of whom was seven -feet three inches; and how he had captured alive, thirty-three white -bears. He asked Frank to invite five friends who might be interested, -first, in dining with Jerningham and Commander Finsen, and then in -hearing Finsen spin his yarn. - -Frank gladly undertook to find the audience. - -So they had a very nice little dinner, with just enough to drink and no -killjoys in activity. And later, in Jerningham's little sitting-room at -the hotel, they heard the great Dane, who was a prosaic viking with -iron muscles and pale-blue eyes that made you uncomfortable for reasons -unknown, tell them all about his remarkable voyage of discovery and his -hunts--no end of things that he could tell them, but could not tell -a mixed audience: perfectly amazing details, of which Frank and his -friends talked for weeks. - -Then there was a little midnight supper, at which they all told stories -that left no unpleasant aftereffects. - -One day after luncheon Jerningham, who had been in a particularly jovial -mood, suddenly became very serious. He aimed at Frank one of those -searching looks that seemed to go to the young man's soul. Then he said: - -"My boy, I'd like to say something to you." - -"Say it." - -"I shall probably hurt your feelings, so you must be prepared to keep -your temper well in hand." - -"You ought to know me better than that by now, Jerningham," retorted -Frank. He had grown not only to like, but even to admire, this strange -miner. - -"Wolfe," said Jerningham, slowly, "you are one of those unfortunate -chaps who are cruelly handicapped by perennial youth. It is doubtless a -pleasing thing to feel at fifty as you did at twenty. Nevertheless, -it is bad business. It is all very nice to shun responsibility, but it -makes you careless; and you can't expect to saddle consequences on your -guardian after you are twenty-one. A boy of forty can't be trusted to -take care of his own property." - -"I can take care of mine," laughed Frank, "without any trouble." His -property was about minus thirty thousand. - -"Your property now--yes. But suppose you had a million or two left -you--or even more? Do you know what would happen to those millions, and -do you know what would happen to you?" - -"I know--but I won't tell." - -"Will you let me tell you?" asked Jerningham, so earnestly that Frank -almost stopped smiling. - -"I'll hear you to the bitter end." - -"The millions would go from your pocket into the pockets of--well, you -know whose pockets! And your life would go into the Big Beyond by the W. -W. route." - -"I bite. What's W. W.?" - -"Wine and woman. You would last perhaps five years. You would die a -dipsomaniac at thirty or thereabout. The chief folly of fighting booze -when you are rich is that it renders wealth utterly futile." - -"How?" - -"Well, you can get just as drunk on ten dollars a day as you can on one -thousand dollars--with this difference, that in the one case you would -have to get drunk on whisky by yourself and in the other you might get -drunk on vintage champagne in the company of paid parasites. The morning -after is the same in both cases: you don't remember any more of the -ten-dollar jag than of the thousand-dollar orgy! When a drunkard sets -out to squander a million all he really does is to carry a sign on -his back with letters a mile high--the sign reading, 'I am a d------d -fool!"' - -Frank took it good-naturedly because he liked Jemingham and because he -was not a millionaire. It really would be asinine to be a millionaire -and try to drink all there was; so he said, amiably: - -"Having downed the Demon Rum, then what?" - -"I'll put it up to you this way: I have no family and I may never marry. -I certainly won't if I don't find my first and only sweetheart. Suppose -I felt like leaving you some of my money? You are a nice boy, but you -also have been a D. F., and you must admit that no man likes to see his -friend trying to beat all D. F. records. Don't get mad and don't look -indignant! I want to make a proposition to you: I'll agree to deposit to -your account in a trust company one hundred dollars a day for every day -you don't touch a drop! I don't want to reform you. I merely want to -train you--in case! There will be some times when you will forfeit that. -It will amount to paying one hundred dollars for a Martini. It will -become a luxury." - -"Too expensive for me!" said Frank, seriously. "And, my boy, it is more -than being on the water-wagon--it's being able to stay on! Booze is so -foolish! I want to give you some business matters--for you to handle for -me." - -"You know what I know about business--" - -"Can't you do as you are told? Don't you know enough to look clever and -say, 'Sign here!' in a frozen voice?" - -"Oh yes. But--" - -"I know you will miss your evenings at first. But I'll tell you what to -do. I am no killjoy. Well, you spend as many evenings as you wish with -me. Invite as many friends as you please--sex no bar. Will you?" - -"Jemingham, you are a nice chap. I'll do it. But you must not think of -that one hundred dollars--" - -"Tut-tut! Can't you understand that I want to do it--that I love to see -your bank account grow? Run along now. I want to read Lucretius." - -From that day Francis Wolfe became Jemingham's inseparable companion. -Every night they went to the theater together or else they spent the -evening in Jemingham's rooms, listening to celebrities. Their evenings -soon became famous. Indeed, people began to talk about Frank Wolfe's -reform. Even his fairest and frailest friends, knowing that Frank -forfeited one hundred dollars a day by falling off the water-wagon, -kept him firmly on the seat--and borrowed the hundred. In due time -the miracle reached the ears of Frank's sisters and of his aunt, Mrs. -Stimson. They had a talk with Frank. They were first amazed, then -delighted, when they saw Frank and when they heard about Jerningham's -intention of making him his heir. - -Thus it came about that, out of gratitude for the man who was making a -man of their brother, Mrs. - -John Burt and Mrs. Sydney Walsingham accepted Mr. Jerningham's -invitation and attended one of the lectures at the Klondiker's -apartments. The little supper that followed was a great success. Mr. -Jemingham talked little, but extremely well--as when he said to Mrs. -Jack in a low voice that he loved Frank Wolfe and some day everybody -would be sure of it! - -"I am merely training him. But don't think I am asking the impossible. I -wish him to know enough to hold on to what I'll leave him." - -Of course after that Mr. Jerningham was not only in society, but even -in a fair way of becoming a fad. Gerald Lanier, the short-story writer, -said that Jerningham was society's gold cure and had climbed into the -inner circles on a ladder made of tightly corked wine-bottles; in fact, -he wrote what his nonliterary friends called a skit--and Frank's friends -a knock--entitled: "How to Capitalize Intemperance." But that did not -hinder Jerningham from receiving invitations from families with thirsty -younger sons. - -VI - -One morning Jemingham, who had seemed preoccupied, said to Frank: - -"I wonder if I can ask you--" He paused and looked doubtfully at Frank. - -"What?" - -"A favor." - -"Of course. Why, you can even touch me if you want to." - -"I wonder if your--if Mrs. Burt would invite Mrs. Ashton Welles to -dinner?" - -"I guess so. I'll ask her." - -"That way you could meet Mrs. Welles, and--" - -"You mean," said Frank, trying to look like Sherlock Holmes, "I could -ask her about your--about her sister?" - -Jerningham jumped to his feet in consternation. - -"Great Scott, no! No!" he shouted. - -"Why, I thought--" - -"You can't ask her that until you know her so well that you can take a -friend's liberty. Promise me you won't ask her until I myself tell you -that you may! Promise!" - -There was in his eyes a look of such intensity that young Wolfe was -startled. - -"Of course I'll promise." - -"You must make friends with her first. She must learn to like you--" - -Francis Wolfe smiled a trifle fatuously. It was merely boyish. A little -more, however, would have made the smile ungentlemanly. Jerningham -continued, very earnestly: - -"Listen, lad. She will have to do more than merely like you--she will -have to trust you. And the only way to make a young and pretty woman -trust a _young_ and not unattractive man is by having that man never, -never, never fail in respect of her. He may be in love with her, or -he may only pretend to be in love with her; but he must act as if he -regarded her with such awe that he dare not make direct love to her. Do -you get it?" - -"Yes. But--" - -"There is no but. She must first like you, which is not difficult; and -then she must trust you as a true friend, which is, to say the least, a -slower matter. Be a brother to her. Do you think you like me well enough -to do this for me now?" - -Jerningham looked at young Wolfe steadily--a man's look. - -Frank said: "I'll do it gladly. And my sisters--" - -"They must never know about--about Naida!" interrupted Jerningham, -hastily. - -"Of course not. But they will do anything for me--and for you, too!" - -That is the true story of how it came about that Mrs. Ashton Welles was -taken up by the Jack Burts; and how she met Francis Wolfe; and how Mrs. -Stimson invited Mr. and Mrs. Ashton Welles to one of her old-fashioned -and tiresome but famous and very formal dinners; and how Frank again -took in Mrs. Welles. Thereafter they met often. At some of these dinners -they met Jerningham. - -The Klondiker paid his court to Mr. Welles. Indeed, he seemed to have -for the president of the VanTwiller Trust Company an admiration that -closely resembled the worship of a matinée girl for an actress like -Maude Adams. It was an innocent sort of worship, but, nevertheless, not -displeasing. In men it sometimes makes the worshiped feel paternally -toward the worshiper. - -Jerningham developed a habit of going every day to the trust company; -and he made it a point always to see Ashton Welles, if only to shake -hands. One morning he told Mr. Welles he desired advice about an -investment. Jerningham, it must be remembered, had on deposit with -the trust company over a million dollars, and there were six or seven -millions in gold-dust in the company's vault. - -"Mr. Welles, I--I," said the Klondiker, so earnestly that he -stammered--"I should like to buy some VanTwiller Trust Company stock, to -have and to hold as long as you are president." - -There was in Jemingham's eyes a look of that admiration that best -expresses itself in absolute confidence in the infallibility of a very -great man. Welles was a very cold man; but flattery has rays that will -thaw icebergs. - -Welles nearly blushed and smiled one of his politely deprecating -smiles--as if he were apologizing for smiling--and said: - -"Why, Mr. Jemingham, I'll confess to you that I myself think well of -that stock. I guess we'll keep on paying dividends." - -Jemingham smiled delightedly--the king had jested! Then he said: - -"I'll buy as much as I can, but I don't want to put up the price on -myself. Who can give me pointers on how to pick up the stock quietly? Do -you think I should see Mr. Barrows or Mr. Stewardson?" - -He looked so anxiously at Mr. Welles that Mr. Welles said, kindly: - -"Oh, see Stewardson. I'll speak to him, if you wish." - -"Thank you! Thank you, Mr. Welles," said Jer-ningham, so gratefully -that Welles felt like a philanthropist as he rang the bell to summon the -second vice-president. - -"Mr. Stewardson, Mr. Jemingham, wants to buy some of our stock. I want -you to help him in any way possible." - -"Delighted, I'm sure!" said the vice-president, very cordially. He was -paid to be cordial to customers. - -"If I had my way I'd be the largest individual stockholder," said -Jerningham, looking at Welles almost adoringly. - -"I hope you will," said Welles, pleasantly. "Mr. Stewardson will help -you." - -Jerningham and Welles shook hands. Then Jerningham and Stewardson left -to go to the vice-president's private office. - - - -VII - -The remarkable Miss Keogh was one of those remarkable people who are -really remarkable. Within three weeks came a cablegram from her to Mr. -Jerningham to the effect that a letter had been sent by Mrs. Deering to -her daughter--the first. Mrs. Deering had begun to doubt her own health. -Then came cablegrams from her to Mrs. Welles; and in a few days, before -Ashton Welles could think of a valid excuse for not letting his wife -go to England, Mrs. Welles told him to engage passage for her on the -_Ruritania_. - -It was very unfortunate that he could not accompany her; but the annual -meeting was only three weeks away, and the minority, never strong enough -to do real damage, always was devilish enough to be very disagreeable to -the clique in control. Ashton Welles, after the extremely stupid fashion -of all strong men, had always kept the absolute control of the company's -affairs in his own hands. It was the one thing he refused to share with -his subordinates. He was a czar in his office. He was, in reality, the -trust company--or he so believed and so he made others believe. His -vice-presidents were merely highly paid office-boys, according to the -gossip of the Street, which was not so far out of the way in this -particular instance. - -Ten minutes after Mrs. Ashton Welles engaged Suite D on the _Ruritania_, -due to sail on the following day, Jerningham said to Mr. Francis Wolfe: - -"My boy, I should like you to go to London on business for me--and for -yourself. You've got to represent me in a deal with the Arctic Venture -Corporation. You will have my power of attorney and you will sign -the deed for one of my properties, as soon as they have deposited two -hundred and fifty thousand pounds to my credit in Parr's Bank. And also -you will call on the prettiest girl in the world--the prettiest, do -you hear?--who unfortunately is also the brightest and cleverest. Her -name--" He paused and looked at Francis Wolfe meditatively, almost -hesitatingly. - -"Go on!" implored Francis Wolfe. - -"Her name is Kathryn Keogh and she is stopping at Thornton's Hotel. She -will help you find Naida. Miss Keogh is a friend of Mrs. Deering." - -"She is Irish--eh?" asked Frank. - -"Mrs. Deering?" - -"No; the peach--the--Miss Keogh?" - -"She is of the Waterford Keoghs, famous for their eyes and their -complexions. But business first. You are not to fall in love with Miss -Keogh until after my two hundred and fifty thousand pounds are safe in -bank. I'd go myself, but I have a still bigger deal on here in New York. -I've taken the liberty to engage a stateroom on the _Ruritania_, sailing -tomorrow, and a letter of credit has been ordered for five thousand -dollars. Have I taken too much for granted?" - -"No; but you know perfectly well that I don't know a thing about -business, and I'd be afraid--" - -"My solicitors in London will call on you when they are ready for you. -I shall give you a memorandum for your own conduct; you will find there -instructions in detail--just as though you were a ten year-old boy; but -that is really for your own protection, and I don't mean to imply that -your mind is ten years old--" - -"No feelings hurt," said Frank, who in reality was much relieved to -learn that the chances of his making a mistake had been intelligently -minimized. - -"I'm glad you take it that way. Now we'll go down-town to Towne, Ripley -& Co. and give them your signature for the letter of credit; from there -we'll go to the British Consulate and have my own signature on my power -of attorney certified to by the consul, and then you can skip up-town -and say good-by to your friends." - -Frank left Jerningham at the consulate and went home to pack up and -arrange for his more pressing adieus. Jerningham went into a public -telephone-booth and called up the offices of _Society Folk_. When they -answered he asked to speak with the editor. - -"Well?" presently came in a sharp voice. - -"This is Mr.--er--a friend." - -"Anonymous! All right. What do you want?" - -"To give you a piece of news." - -"We verify everything and take your word for absolutely nothing. I tell -you this to save your telling me a lie." - -"That's all right. You'll find it true enough. I--" - -"One minute. Where is that pencil? All right! Now the name of the -woman?" - -"How do you know I want to--" - -"All you fellows always do. What's her name?" - -"Mrs. Ashton Welles." - -"The wife of the president of the VanTwiller--" - -"Correct!" said Jerningham. - -"Now the name of the man?" - -"Francis Wolfe," answered Jerningham, unhesitatingly. - -"The chorus-girls' pet?" asked the voice. - -"The same!" - -"Has it happened yet? Or do you merely fear it? Or is it a case of -hoping?" - -"I don't know what you are driving at." - -"Then you don't read _Society Folk_" - -"Well, I don't--regularly. All I know is that Frank has been very -assiduous in his attentions lately. He's shaken the Great White Way and -hasn't been in a lobster-palace in two months. He and Mrs. Ashton Welles -are sailing on the _Ruritania_ tomorrow." - -"Under what name?" - -"Their own." - -"Thank you, kind friend. Thank you!" - -"Why do you say that?" - -"Because we can now use names. Does Mr. Welles also go?" - -"Of course not!" - -"Excuse me for asking such a silly question. What other crime has he -committed besides being old?--I mean Mr. Welles." - -"Stupidity is worse than criminal." - -"Aye, aye, sir!" - -"When does your paper come out?" - -"Day after to-morrow. Much obliged. You are a friend in need. Don't ring -off yet. Listen! You are also a dirty, low-lived, sneaking, cowardly -dog, and a general, all-round, unrelieved, monumental--" It was the -one way the editor had of showing that he was better than his anonymous -contributor. - -Jerningham, of course, went on board the _Ruritania_ to see Frank off. -Ashton Welles was also there to say good-by to his young and beautiful -wife. It was their first separation, and Welles did not like it. He -seemed to feel her absence in advance; it was really that, as the hour -drew near, he realized more vividly how lonely she would leave him! They -have a saying in Spain that a man may grow accustomed to bearing sorrow, -but that nobody can get used to that happiness which comes merely to -disappear immediately after. A cigar manufacturer from Havana had once -quoted this to Ashton Welles, and Ashton Welles was impressed less by -the saying than by the fact that the Spaniard was so serious about it. -But now he remembered it. - -He was very uncomfortable and this discomfort made his mental machinery -act queerly; it seemed to tint his thoughts with strange, unusual hues -that made them almost morbid. He would have felt contempt for his own -weakness had he not been so full of half-angry regret at being left -alone in New York--this man who never had possessed an intimate friend; -who not even as a boy had a chum! - -Of course it was only a coincidence that young Mr. Francis Wolfe was -to be young Mrs. Ashton Welles's fellow-passenger; and it was also a -coincidence that Mr. Wolfe's stateroom was just across the passageway -from Mrs. Welles's suite. Indeed, neither of the young people had picked -out the cabins--but there they were. And there, in Ashton Welles's mind, -was another unformulated unpleasantness. - -Frank's sisters were so proud Frank was going to put through an -important business deal that they showed it. But if they were glad that -Mrs. Welles was also going they did not show it. They recalled Frank's -desire to meet the pretty young matron whose husband was thirty years -older, and they were rather ostentatiously polite to her. Ashton Welles, -in his disturbed state of mind, somehow felt that the attitude of Mrs. -John Burt and Mrs. Sydney Walsingham was one of blame-fixing; but he -could not definitely understand why there should be any blame to fix! -He dismissed his semi-suspicions with the thought that women had petty -minds. His wife was very pretty and Wolfe's sisters were not as young as -they used to be. And youth is a terrible thing--to lose! It is hard to -forgive youth for being, after one is past--well, say, past a certain -age. And to prove that he himself had nothing to fear--absolutely -nothing--he even smiled and said to young Mr. Wolfe: - -"I feel certain, of course, that if Mrs. Welles should need anything--" - -It was the season of the year when east-bound liners carried few -passengers. The young people were bound to be thrown together a great -deal. - -"Of course, Mr. Welles. Only too delighted, I'm sure!" said Frank, very -eagerly. - -He was a fine-looking chap, with that wonderfully clean, healthy pink -complexion which suggests a clean and healthy mind. His eyes were full -of that eager, boyish light that makes the possessors thereof so nice to -pet, small-child wise. - -Ashton Welles received an impression of Frank Wolfe's face that was -photographic in its details. - -The floating hotel moved off slowly. Ashton Welles, on the pier, -watched the fluttering handkerchief of his wife out of sight. He had -the remembrance of her beautiful young face framed in Siberian sable to -cheer him. She certainly looked heavenly. She had cried at leaving -him. She had waved away at him vehemently, and there was the unpleasant -suggestion that always attends such leave-takings--that the parting was -forever. A frail thing--human life! A little speck of vitality on the -boundless waste of grim, gray waters! And she seemed so sorry to go away -from him! And she waved and waved, as if she, also, feared she might -never see him again! And Francis Wolfe stood beside her, very close to -her, and waved also--to Jemingham, who stood beside Ashton Welles. - -Ashton Welles accepted Jerningham's invitation and rode to his office -in the Klondiker's sumptuous motor in the Klondiker's company. Ashton -Welles looked at the flower-holder. Instead of the white azaleas he saw -two white handkerchiefs waved by two young people. - -"You are very friendly with young Wolfe?" said Ashton Welles, carelessly -inquisitive--merely to make talk, you know. All rich old men who marry -young women have ostrich habits. They put an end to danger by closing -their eyes to the obvious. That is why they always discover nothing. - -"Rather--yes. I think he is a fine chap--one of those clean-cut -Americans of the present generation that European women find so -perfectly fascinating." - -Ashton Welles instantly frowned--and instantly ceased to frown. - -"Yes," he said, and grimaced, thinking it looked like a smile. -"What business is taking him to London? I thought he was a young man -of--er--elegant leisure." - -"He was that until very recently; but he has turned over a new leaf. He -has forsworn his old and, I suppose, rather disreputable companions. I -find him rather serious." - -"What has changed him?" Ashton Welles was foolish enough to be brave -enough to ask. When a question can have two answers--one of them -disagreeable--it is folly to ask it. - -"I don't know," answered Jerningham, as if puzzled. "He has acted a -little queerly and secretive-like; but it is, I admit, a queerness that -other young men would do well to imitate, for it has made him cease -drinking, and cease--er--you know. I rather suspect it is his sister, -Mrs. Burt. He is very fond of her. A man will do things for a good woman -that he won't for his best man friend, or for his own sake. You saw him. -There is no viciousness or dissipation in that face. Damned handsome -chap, I call him!" - -"H'm!" winced the glacial Ashton Welles. He could not help it. - -There came upon him a strange mood, almost of numbness, that made him -silent against his will. He answered by nods--the nods of a man who -does not hear--to Jerningham's chatter. He gathered in some way that -the Alaskan Monte Cristo was talking of buying VanTwiller Trust Company -stock, and that he would ask Stewardson how much he could borrow on the -stock. - -"Yes--do!" said Ashton Welles as the motor stopped in front of the -imposing entrance of the trust company's marble building. - -They stepped out; Welles excused himself almost brusquely and went into -his own private office to think all the thoughts that a millionaire of -fifty-two thinks when he thinks that he married at fifty a girl thirty -years his junior, with cheeks like flower petals and eyes like skies, -who is going to spend the best part of a week on a steamer in the -company of a man who is much worse than handsome--young! - -Mr. Jerningham, who did not seem to have noticed the near rudeness of -Mr. Ashton Welles, promptly sought the second vice-president and asked -how much the company would lend on its own stock. - -"It is against the law for us to lend money on our own stock," said the -vice-president, who did not add that this provision had prevented many -an inside clique from eating its pie and having it too. - -"Will the banks loan money on V.T. stock?" asked Jerningham. He had -already bought three thousand shares at an average of four hundred -dollars a share. - -"Well, I guess so." - -"On a time loan?" - -"No trouble in borrowing three hundred dollars a share, I should say." - -"That is not much," objected Jerningham. - -"No, it isn't. But--May I ask you a question?" - -"Two if you wish," said Jerningham, with one of his likable smiles. - -"Why should you need to borrow a trifle, with all the millions in gold -you have down-stairs? Or are they only gold bricks you've got in your -boxes?" - -This was, of course, meant in jest; but Stewardson thought in a flash -the trust company did not know for a positive fact that Jerningham's -iron-bound and wax-sealed boxes had real gold-dust in them. - -"Let me tell you something, Mr. Stewardson," said Jerningham, with that -curious earnestness people assume when they discuss matters they do not -really understand--"let me tell you this: The time is coming--and coming -within a few months!--when good, hard gold is going to command a premium -just as it practically did during the Bryan free-silver scare in 1896. I -am going to save mine. I want to have it in readiness to take advantage -of--" - -"But present conditions are utterly different--" - -"They are always different--and yet the panics come! You thought that -after 1896 there would never again be any need for clearing-house -certificates; and yet, in 1907--" - -"They were unnecessary--" began Stewardson, hotly. - -He had been left out of all conferences among the powers at that trying -time, and naturally disapproved their actions. - -"But they happened, just the same! I know myself. If I cash in now I'll -buy something with the money. I don't want to buy now. No, sir! If I -should happen to need a million or two I prefer to borrow it for a few -weeks until my next shipment comes in. There will be two millions coming -in about the middle of next month. I've sent word to get out as big an -output as possible. See? You bet your boots Wall Street is not going to -get either my cash or my mines, as they did Colonel Cannon's. You know -he was The Mexican copper king' one day and That jackass from Chihuahua' -the next! See?" - -The vice-president looked at him and said "I see!" in a very flattering -tone of voice; but in his inmost mind he was thinking that such a thing -was precisely what doubtless would happen to Mr. Alfred -Jemingham, late of Nome. It is always the extremely suspicious, -too-smart-for-you-by-heck! farmer who buys the biggest gold brick. - -"They'll find out I'll never let them change my name into That -blankety-blank-blank from Alaska!'" And Jemingham put on that look of -devilish astuteness that buyers of stocks always put on when they buy at -top prices. - -He left the vice-president of the VanTwiller Trust Company and called -on the vice-presidents of several other trust companies and banks, and -found out that he could borrow, more than three hundred dollars a share -on his V.T. stock. And he did--then and there. He impressed the genial -philanthropists on whom he called as being a child of Nature--a great -big boy playing at being a financier. There was in consequence much -smacking of financial lips. It was morsels like this naïve and honest -Alaskan miner with the millions that helped to reconcile men to living -the Wall Street life. - - - -VIII - -On the day after the _Ruritania_ sailed Ashton Welles, whose first -wifeless evening at home had not been pleasant, found on his desk a -marked copy of _Society Folk_. These were the four marked paragraphs: - -The man who first said there was no fool like an old fool had in mind -that form of folly which consists of the purchase of a beautiful girl by -a man who endeavors to span a difference of thirty years in age by -means of a bridge of solid gold. It is unnatural, unwholesome, and even -immoral. The sordid romances of high life that begin in a Fifth Avenue -jewelry-shop are apt to end in a Reno divorce-mill. Why shouldn't they? - -A girl who marries once for money is always ready to marry again -for more money--or for more love--for she always wants more than the -desiccated ass who first bought her can give her. - -A girl of twenty who is famous for her good looks is always a beautiful -young woman, no matter what else she may be. But a man close to sixty, -whether he is the head of a big trust company or a poet, is nothing -but an old man. Speaking of remarkable coincidences, is it not odd that -both Fool and Financier should begin with an F? And Frailty, too, whose -other name is Woman? - -If there are some things that gold cannot do it is perfectly wonderful -how many things love can do! It bridges all chasms with kisses, and -solves all riddles--with glances. It even defies the high cost of living -and makes men think themselves demigods. It has been known to make -champagne drunkards swear off long before they are bankrupt. It even now -depopulates the lobster-palaces. It turns dining-room navigators into -fearless vikings, braving the wild Atlantic and its midwinter gales in -order to be by their lady-loves. It may even reform Tammany leaders--for -we know it can transform young asses into handsome Lancelots. - -Among the passengers on the _Ruritania_, sailing for Liverpool at this -unfashionable season of the year, were Mrs. Ashton Welles, who has the -gorgeous Suite D all to herself, and young Mr. Francis Wolfe, who is -content with the more modest stateroom across the way. Frank's friends -are always singing his praises these days. He never looks at a -chorus-girl save from the middle of the house, and has not taken -anything stronger than Vichy in long weeks. If we were not averse to -advertising male beauty shows we would remark that young Wolfe is the -handsomest bachelorus-girl save from the middle of the house, and has -not taken anything stronger than Vichy in long weeks. If we were not -averse to advertising male beauty shows we would remark that young Wolfe -is the handsomest bachelor who ever sidestepped matrimony. - -It takes more than money to keep the Wolfe from the door--eh? What? - -The Ashton Welles who finished reading the beastly paragraphs of -_Society Folk_ was not the same Ashton Welles who began them. He was -no longer an efficient financier, but a man benumbed, whose brain had -turned to plaster of Paris. His mind at once lost all elasticity, all -power to functionate. And, since he could not think, he could not act. -That wonderful world, which financially successful people create for -themselves with so much pride, tumbled about his ears. Out of the chaos -made by a few printed words, only one thing was certain--he suffered! - -Men are always wounded in a vital spot when they are wounded by -jealousy, and Ashton Welles was particularly vulnerable because he -lived in only two places--his office and his home. He did not have -other houses of refuge to which his soul could retreat--like music or -literature or art--in case of need. He had been so busy winning success -that he had not had time for anything else. He had worked for -the aggrandizement of the personal fortune of Ashton Welles. When -circumstances and that reputation for luck, shrewdness, and caution, -which is in itself a golden sagacity, finally placed him, still a young -man, at the head of the VanTwiller Trust Company, David Soulett, one of -the directors, remarked: "Welles has married the company; but we don't -yet know whether he is to be the company's husband or whether the -company is to be his wife!" And a fellow-director, who had been in -profitable deals with Welles, retorted, "Well, I call it an ideal -match!" - -Welles brought to the company what it needed and the presidency brought -to Welles many opportunities--none of which he neglected. He saw the -deposits increase tenfold--and his own fortune twentyfold. What -might not have been politic in an individual playing a lone hand -was altogether admirable in the head of a financial institution--his -cold-bloodedness, for example, and the dehumanized attitude toward -life habitually assumed by the principal cog-wheel in that intricate -aggregation of cog-wheels known as a modern trust company. Being an -excellent money-lender, he was an uninteresting human being. You lose -much when you win money--for gold is hard and cold, and the enjoyment of -life calls for softness and warmth. It is the appalling revenge capital -takes on its self-called masters. - -As he approached his fiftieth year Welles began to find that -his isolation might be splendid, but that it was also damnably -uncomfortable. Did you know that in certain millionaire households, -where everything always runs very smoothly, the master gets to long for -a burnt steak or the spilling of soup by the very competent servant? -Welles, accustomed to the wonderfully comfortable life of a very rich -bachelor in New York, desired a home where everything need not be so -comfortable. And as his fortune became a matter of several millions it -began--as swollen fortunes always do, also in revenge!--to take on the -aspect of a monument, something to admire during the monument-builder's -lifetime and to endure impressively afterward! With the desire of -permanence came the dream of all capitalists that makes them dynasts -of gold--an heir to extend the boundaries of the family fortune! It was -inevitable that Ashton Welles should grow to believe that, though the -trust company's deposits were in other people's names, they really -belonged to Ashton Welles, because they were merely the marble blocks -of the Welles monument. The name of Welles must never cease to be -identified with the work of Ashton the First! - -Wherefore the need of an heir became almost an obsession with him, and -with it came a quite human dissatisfaction with hotels and clubs, and -trained nurses in times of illness. When a capitalist realizes clearly -that, apart from his money-lending capacity, he has absolutely no power -to bring tears to human eyes, he grows jealous of his own money. He -wishes to be feared, though penniless, just as he would be loved, though -a pauper. All these desires combined to force Ashton Welles into a -decision. He had kept up a desultory sort of friendship with Mrs. -Deering, the widow of his predecessor in the presidency of the trust -company, and Anne Deering was the girl he knew best of all--though he -really did not know her at all. - -The Deerings had not been fortunate in their investments; in fact, the -Deering holdings of Van-Twiller stock had been benevolently assimilated -at one-fifth of their value by Ashton Welles himself during one of those -panics that make reckless persons cease being reckless ever after. It -was not very difficult for Anne Deering to be made to feel that she -could save her mother's life and assure ease and comfort for herself -forever by marrying Mr. Ashton Welles, who at fifty was one of those men -whom old friends invariably classify as well-preserved. To be just, he -was really distinguished-looking and had a sort of uniform urbanity that -made him at least unobjectionable. - -He was also very rich. She married him. She learned to like him. He grew -to love her! - -She was a doll--beautiful and utterly useless; but it was this very -uselessness that made Ashton Welles worship her. This financier, who -in his office was not only a skilful bargain-driver, but preached and -practised the religion of efficiency, in his home plunged into an orgy -of utterly juvenile lovemaking. He reveled in his wooing, which he had -to do after his marriage. He did not merely desire to have a wife--he -must have a wife of an extreme femininity; she must be one of those -womanly women who exist only in the imaginations of men of a tyrannical -cast of mind. His life having been for years exclusively a money-making -life, he became very selfish. And he continued to find his greatest -pleasure in pleasing himself--only that he now best pleased himself by -being a boy sweetheart; by achieving his puppy love at fifty and deeming -it marvelously rejuvenating and therefore altogether admirable. - -Very well! Now imagine that man, living for two years amid those -pitifully evanescent illusions so cherished by middle-aged men of money -who marry very young women of looks--imagine that man suddenly informed -that he is no longer to be anything but an old man! And not only old, -but deserted! Imagine that selfsame man brought face to face with the -invincible Opponent of all old men--youth! - -To Ashton Welles, sitting in his office, surrounded by glittering -millions, there came the deadly chill of age--doubly cold from being -surrounded by gold. In the twinkling of an eye all young men suddenly -became redoubtable warriors, love-conquerors, irresistible as a force of -nature--and as heartless! He was beaten by the universal victor--Time! - -He stared fixedly at a photograph of his wife in an elaborately -chased silver frame, but he did not see her. He saw ruins, as of a -conflagration--the smoking débris of a destroyed home; and heaps of -ashes--ashes everywhere! And in the rising puffs of smoke he saw faces -of men--of young men--of very handsome young men! - -Stewardson, the vice-president, walked in--the door was open, as usual. -He saw his chief's face and was shocked into a quite human feeling of -consternation. - -"Great heavens, Mr. Welles, what is the matter?" - -"Nothing!" said Ashton Welles. He suddenly felt an overwhelming impulse -to hide his face from the sight of his fellow-men. He thought his -forehead must show in black letters--_Fool!_ and--and--and ten thousand -terrible legends that changed with each beat of his heart, and told what -he had been and what had happened; and--yes--what was bound to happen! - -"Nothing! Nothing!" he repeated, fiercely. - -"Nothing, I tell you!" He was certain all the world knew his disgrace. - -"Shall I call a doctor?" - -"No! No!" he snarled. Call in the entire world and gloat at his -discomfiture? He glanced at the vice-president. The impolitic alarm on -Steward-son's face exasperated him. "What do you want? Damn it, what do -you want?" It was almost a shriek. - -"I wanted to consult with you about that Consolidated Cushion Tire bond -issue--" - -"Yes, yes! Well?" - -"Have you decided whether to--" - -"Yes! I mean--no! I mean--Wait! Ask Witter. I dictated a memorandum to -him, I think. Yes, I did!" - -He was making desperate efforts to speak calmly; but he stopped, because -Stewardson, a dastard of thirty-two, suddenly grew to resemble young Mr. -Francis Wolfe! Stewardson saw the gleam in Ashton Welles's eyes and felt -that the president must have hated him all his life! - -"I'll get it from Witter," he said, and hastily left the room. - -Welles stared wide-eyed at the open door for perhaps a full minute; -always he saw ruins--smoke and ashes--ashes everywhere! And then he -started up and squared his shoulders. He rang for an office-boy and said -to him, "Tell Mr. Witter I've gone for the day"--Witter was his private -secretary--and left the office. - -He could not bear even to think of going home, for he now had no home! -Therefore he went to Central Park and walked aimlessly about until his -unaccustomed muscles compelled him to sit down. There he sat, thinking! -After three hours he had grown sufficiently calm to believe himself when -he called himself a fool for being jealous. Having convinced himself -of his folly, he clutched eagerly at every opportunity to close his -own ears to the whisperings of his own doubts. At length he went to his -house, dressed as usual, and went to the Cosmopolitan Club to dine. - - - -IX - -A few minutes after Ashton Welles left his office, stabbed to the soul -by the poisoned paragraphs of _Society Folk_ Jemingham sought Stewardson -and told him he had decided to send some more gold-dust to the Assay -Office. His own attendant, a young man, dark-haired and blue-eyed, who -properly answered to the name of Sheehan, accompanied him. Stewardson, -whose nerves had not recovered from the shock of Mr. Welles's behavior, -decided that he, also, would go to the vaults. - -"I want ten boxes sent to the Assay Office," said Jemingham. - -"Certainly, sir," said the superintendent of the vaults, very -obsequiously. To show how eager he was to please, he asked, "Any -particular boxes, Mr. Jemingham?" - -Immediately a half-formulated suspicion fleeted across the mind of the -second vice-president of the VanTwiller Trust Company. How did they know -what those boxes contained? How did they know that all of them were full -of Yukon gold? How did they know anything about this man or about his -treasure--his alleged treasure? - -Almost immediately afterward, however, he reproached himself. Why, the -man had deposited over a million--the proceeds of twenty of the boxes! - -"Oh, take any ten," said Jerningham--"the first ten. They are the -easiest to take out." - -"The last ten!" said Stewardson, hastily, obeying an impulse that came -upon him like a flash of lightning. - -Jerningham turned and asked: "Why the last ten? They are away back, -and--" - -"I have my reasons," smiled Stewardson--the smile of a man who knows -something funny about you, but does not wish to tell it--not quite yet. -It is the most exasperating smile known. - -Jerningham looked at him a moment. Then he said, coldly: "Why not pick -them out haphazard--one here and another there, as if you were sampling -a mine and wanted to make sure they hadn't salted it on you?" He turned -to the men and said, "Pick out ten at random, no two from the same -place; and be sure they are not full of stable litter!" - -Stewardson flushed, and whispered apologetically to the superintendent, -"The more the boys work, the more grateful he will be." - -"Oh, he is very generous, anyhow," said Sullivan, the superintendent, -watching his helper and Sheehan pick out the ten boxes at random. - -Stewardson accompanied Jerningham up-stairs and then excused himself -long enough to say to a confidential clerk: "Follow Mr. Jerningham and -his ten boxes of gold-dust, and find out what he does, how much he gets, -and every detail of interest. Don't let him see you." - -The clerk found out and later reported to the vice-president that the -ten boxes all contained Alaskan gold-dust, and that their value was -$531,687, the boxes averaging a little better than fifty thousand -dollars each. Stewardson then had the remaining boxes counted. There -were one hundred and twenty-one left. They were worth over six million -dollars. Jerningham ought to have the gold-dust coined and then deposit -the proceeds in the trust company. The company would allow him two and -a half per cent.--or maybe three per cent.--on the six millions. That -would be one hundred and eighty thousand dollars a year. The company -could then loan the entire six millions, not having to bother with -keeping a reserve like the national banks, and, the way the money-market -was, the money could be loaned at five per cent. That would be three -hundred thousand dollars a year. - -Men properly must end in dust; but dust, when gold, should end in -eagles. He would speak to Jerningham about it--one hundred and eighty -thousand dollars a year that Jerningham was not making--which was -silly! And one hundred and twenty thousand a year the company was not -making--which was a tragedy! - -Ashton Welles sent word to the office on the following morning that he -would not be down until late, if at all. He did not send word that he -had decided to consult his lawyer about the _Society Folk_ article. -He had received eight marked copies, addressed to him at his house in -different handwritings, and he did not know that on his desk at the -office there were a dozen more. Friends always tell you about anonymous -attacks anonymously. They wait for them. - -Jerningham seemed disappointed when he learned, at ten-thirty, that Mr. -Welles might not come to the office at all. Stewardson came upon -him looking disgruntled. That did not deter the vice-president from -broaching the subject nearest his heart. "I'd like to ask you one -question, Mr. Jerningham. Of course I know you must have a reason--a -very good reason, too--" - -"If the reason is good I'll confess," said Jerningham, pleasantly. - -"Well, I'd like to know what your reason is for not sending all your -gold to the Assay Office?" - -"My reason is that I want to make a lot of money later by not sending -the gold to the Assay Office now. Remember my very words!" - -"But how are you going to do it?" Stewardson could not help asking, -because he was so puzzled that his sense of humor was paralyzed. - -"By having the gold--that's how." - -"That's all right! But why don't you change it into coin? That way you -can have it at a moment's notice." - -"My dear chap, do you know how many hours it will take the Assay Office, -after I take my dust in there, to give me a check for the proceeds? I -get ninety per cent, of the value at once. If I cash this gold now I'll -spend it. I know it! I never could resist the temptation to spend--it -is my one weakness. And if I spent it what would I have to show for the -hardships of thirty years?" - -"But why don't you deposit it with us? We'll allow you two and a half -per cent. Or if you make it a time deposit we can do better than that by -you. You know you can always get gold for it if you ask us for it." - -"I can, can I?" laughed Jerningham, with a sort of good-natured mockery. -"How about 1907 and your old clearing-house certificates--eh? -What?" Stewardson was nettled. So he permitted himself the supreme, -all-conquering argument of business: "But you are losing one hundred -and eighty thousand dollars a year by leaving your gold uncoined and -undeposited." - -"I won't lose a year's interest, because it isn't going to take a year -for the big panic to come." Stewardson laughed--a kindly laugh. "For -pity's sake, don't wait for that! Panics have a habit of not coming -if expected. Just now everybody is bluer than indigo. You'd think the -United States was on its last legs. Invest at once, and don't wait for -the bargains at the funeral that may never come." - -"How sound is this institution?" Jerningham looked Stewardson full in -the face. - -The vice-president answered, smilingly, "Oh, I guess we'll weather the -storm." - -"Then I'll buy more stock. Mr. Welles advised me to buy all I could get -hold of. A wonderful man--" - -"Yes, indeed," acquiesced Stewardson, solemnly. "Wonderful! Great -judgment!" pursued Jeming-ham, with a sort of boyish enthusiasm that -made Stewardson think his superior had designs on the Klondike gold in -the vaults. "He is so clear-cut--and never, never loses his head! To -tell you the truth," and Jerningham lowered his voice, "I used to think -he was an icicle--the sort of man nothing can disturb; but, for all his -calmness and imperturbability, he has a great warm heart and a great big -brain!" - -Stewardson had never before heard anybody accuse the president of the -VanTwiller Trust Company of having any heart at all. Why had Welles -taken the pains to pose before the Klondike miner as a philanthropist? -And why had the imperturbable Ashton Welles been so perturbed the day -before? - -"Ablest man in this country!" said Stewardson, his mind wrapped in the -folds of his unformulated mysteries and his own half-asked questions. - -"So I'll get a little more of the stock," said Jerningham. - -"Go ahead! You can't go wrong," Stewardson assured him; "in fact, you -ought to send some of your gold to the Assay Office and--" - -"What will you lend me on my gold--on the six millions I've got -down-stairs?" asked Jerningham, with a frown. He looked intently at the -vice-president with his cold, gray eyes, and Stewardson somehow fancied -he saw a challenge in them; but he was an old bird at the game. He -laughed and said, jovially: - -"Not a penny!" - -"I know it. It shows you how incompetent all these financial -institutions are. You think you are doing your duty by being -suspicious--what? Well, you don't unless you are intelligently -suspicious. Never mind; you are only the vice-president. I'll buy the -stock just the same." And Jerningham laughed, exaggeratedly forgiving, -and went away. - -Later in the day, when Stewardson thought he might sell his own holdings -of VanTwiller Trust stock to Jerningham and trust to luck to pick it up -again here and there at a lower figure, he called up a firm of brokers -who made a specialty of dealing in bank and trust-company stocks. He was -surprised to learn that V.T. stock was scarce and thirty points higher. -The vice-president called up specialists and heard the same story--the -floating supply had been quietly bought. - -"By whom?" he asked Earhart. - -"You know very well!" retorted the last broker, in an aggrieved tone of -voice. - -"I do not!" Stewardson assured him. - -"Well, it all goes into your office." - -"Mine?" - -"Yes--yours! And it's paid by your checks. The name signed is Alfred -Jerningham. Are you going to cut a melon? Just whisper!" - -"Oh!" and Stewardson laughed. "What a suspicious man you are, Dave!" - -In the alarmingly inexplicable frame of mind in which Ashton Welles was -Stewardson did not feel like speaking to his superior about Jemingham's -investment. There was no reason why the Klondiker should not buy all -the VanTwiller Trust Company stock he could pay for; but a day or -two afterward the vice-president learned that Jerningham had secured -control, by purchase outright or by option, at prices ranging from three -hundred and ninety-five to five hundred dollars a share, of twenty-two -thousand shares. That was important for two reasons: In the first -place it was more than Jerningham could pay for even if he sold all his -gold-dust; and, secondly, such a block in unfriendly hands might work -injury to the controlling clique. He decided to see the president; but -he was told that Mr. Ashton Welles was engaged at that moment. - -Jerningham was talking to him. They had exchanged greetings with much -cordiality. - -"Have you heard from Mrs. Welles?" asked the Alaskan. - -"She hasn't arrived yet--" - -"I know it. But I received a wireless from young Wolfe--" - -"What did he say?" asked Ashton Welles before he knew it. - -Jerningham looked mildly surprised. He answered: - -"It was a funny message. He asked me to go to his room and get his -trunks, and send all his belongings to London, as he had decided to stay -there indefinitely." - -"Yes?" It was all Welles could say. - -"So I wired back, 'Are you crazy?'" - -"Did he answer that?" - -"Yes." Jerningham paused. Then he laughed. - -"What did he answer?" queried Welles. - -"Oh, he is crazy, all right. He answered, 'Yes--with joy! Please send -trunks to Thornton's Hotel--'" - -"What?" Ashton Welles rose to his feet, his face livid. It was the -London hotel where Mrs. Deering lived, the hotel to which Mrs. Welles -was going! - -"What's the matter?" asked Jerningham, in amazement. - -"N-nothing!" said Ashton Welles, huskily. He gulped twice. Then, having -spent thirty-five years in Wall Street making money, he explained, "I've -got a terrible toothache!" And he put his hand to his left cheek. - -"I'm sorry!" said Jemingham so sympathetically that Welles, for all -his distress--and nothing is so inherently selfish as suffering--felt -a kindly feeling toward the man from Alaska. "Could I ask your advice -about a business matter?" - -"Certainly!" - -Ashton Welles tried to smile. It was ghastly, but Jemingham did not -remark it. He said, placidly: - -"I've bought quite a little bunch of VanTwiller stock because you are -its president, Mr. Welles. On my honor, that is my only reason. I've -paid good prices, too; but you are worth it--to me!" And Jemingham -beamed adoringly on the efficient president of the VanTwiller Trust -Company. - -Ashton Welles said, "Thank you!" and even tried to feel grateful to -this queer character from the frozen North who was so naïve in his -admiration--and envied him for not having a young wife who had sailed on -the same steamer with an exceedingly attractive young man. - -"I guess I'm all right in my purchase--what?" - -"Oh yes!" said Welles. He was thinking of the _Ruritania_. It did not -even occur to him that this Monte Cristo might be worth while to pluck. - -"Thank you. I hope I didn't bother you. Good morning, Mr. Welles." - -"Good morning, Mr. Jemingham. Er--come in any time you think I can be of -service to you." - -As Jemingham was leaving the president's office he almost bumped into -the vice-president. - -"You've bought quite a lot of our stock," said - -Stewardson, full of his errand. His voice had an accusing ring. - -"Yes. I was just speaking to Mr. Welles about it." - -"And what did he say?" - -"Ask him!" teased Jerningham, with a smile, and went away. - -Stewardson felt it his duty to do exactly as Jerningham had mockingly -suggested. It was an abnormal situation. That being the case, there was -no regular provision--no indicated chapter and verse--for meeting it. -The principal function of a chief in business is to supply answers to -puzzled subordinates. - -Ashton Welles was sitting back in his swivel chair. He was staring -fixedly at a hook on the picture-molding that had been left there after -the picture was taken away. He was thinking that if he employed private -detectives in London he would have to hire them by cable. There are -suspicions a man cannot help having and yet cannot set down in plain -black and white. He cannot hint when he writes, for written instructions -must always be explicit and categorical. That is why no love-letter -of which the real meaning is to be read "between the lines" is ever -satisfactory to the recipient. - -Ashton Welles turned his head and, still frowning, asked Stewardson, -sharply: - -"Well, what is it?" - -"It's about Jerningham. You know he has been buying our stock. But I -thought you ought to know--" - -He wished to tell the president what a big block the Alaskan had already -secured. But the president, from force of habit, perhaps, or possibly -by reason of the irritation of his nerves, assumed the usual financial -attitude of omniscience: - -"I know all about it," he said. "Anything else you wish to say to me?" - -"No, sir!" answered Stewardson, who felt rebuffed and now would not have -turned in an alarm of fire if he had seen the place beginning to burn. -He was, after all, human. - -You cannot, in your lust for absolute power, make your subordinates -into sublimated office-boys or decorative figureheads without paying the -price some time. Stewardson was justified in assuming that Mr. Welles -was worried about business--it was perfectly obvious; and it was a -natural suspicion, also, that said deal must threaten destruction to the -company since Ashton Welles was so eager to have poor Jerningham buy so -much VanTwiller stock. Therefore Stewardson and his intimate friends, -in order to be on the safe side, very promptly sold out their own -holdings--to poor misguided Jerningham's brokers. - -Of course other people who did not wish Welles well heard about it, and -the whisper ran about the Street, getting blacker and blacker as it -ran, until everybody knew something had happened--everybody except the -directors of the VanTwiller Trust Company. And when the transfer-books -closed for the annual meeting of the stockholders it was found that -Mr. Alfred Jerningham owned, by purchase or option, and had irrevocable -proxies on, a little more than twenty-eight thousand shares of the -stock. This, together with the twelve thousand shares owned jointly by -Patrick T. Behan and Oliver Judson, the street-railroad magnates, and -the blocks controlled by the Garvin brothers, Tammany contractors, and -Mayer & Shanberg, F. R. Chisolm, John Matson & Company, and others of -the Behan-Judson clique, which once tried to secure control of the -company and were foiled by Ashton Welles, made a combination that was -bound to win at the annual election. - -Jerningham ceased going to the VanTwiller Trust Company because Ashton -Welles had sailed for London on the receipt of a cablegram that read: - -_Leaving for Continent. Mother and I cannot return before three months. -Will write soon._ - -_Anne_. - -Instead of calling on his friend Stewardson, Jerningham preferred to -spend hours and hours conversing with Patrick T. Behan, "the most -dangerous man in Wall Street!"--and the slickest. But on the day before -the election Jerningham did call on Stewardson and offered to sell his -holdings of VanTwiller stock at six hundred dollars a share. - -"Why, I thought you--" began the vice-president. - -"I know you did. I wanted you to. But six hundred dollars is only -twenty-five dollars a share more than Behan, and Judson, and Garvin, -and the rest of those pirates have offered me. I've decided not to be a -stockholder of the trust company; so just get your friends together and -tell them if they want to retain the control they can give you a check -for me--six hundred dollars a share on twenty-eight thousand, one -hundred and twenty-three shares. Put it down--twenty-eight thousand, one -hundred and twenty-three shares. Good day!" - -"Wait! I want to say--" - -"Don't say it! Write it! I'm still at the Brabant," said Jerningham, -coldly. "I advise you to get at Mr. Welles on the steamer by wireless. -Good day!" - -"But, I--" shouted Stewardson. - -Jerningham paid no attention to him and walked away. - -Later in the day negotiations were resumed. In the end Jerningham -accepted a little less; but the deal yielded him a net profit of about -two million dollars. He insisted upon being paid in gold coin. This -convinced Stewardson and the other victims that Jerningham was out of -his mind; but there is no law that enables officers of a trust company -to imprison a gold maniac or to take away his gold, particularly when -his lawyers stand very high in the profession. - -Five minutes after getting the gold coin in his possession--and drawing -every cent of it--Jerningham told Stewardson he would leave the dust in -the VanTwiller vaults. That reassured Stewardson, who otherwise might -have suspected Jerningham of various crimes. He then sent two cablegrams -to London. One was to - -_Kathryn Keogh,_ - -_Thornton's Hotel, London._ - -_Your services are no longer needed. Go ahead and have a nice time! -Thanks awfully!_ _Jerningham_. - -The other was to Francis Wolfe--same address. It read: - -_You ought to marry Kathryn Keogh. Never mind anything else. I am -disappearing for good. God bless you both, my children! Letter follows._ - -_Jerningham._ - -Francis Wolfe showed his cablegram to Miss Keogh and Miss Keogh did not -show hers to Francis Wolfe. - -A week later Frank asked Miss Keogh to read a letter he had received -from Jerningham, and to tell him what to do. - -This was the letter. - -Dear Boy,--We needed a million or two out of Ashton Welles, and the only -way we could see of getting it was by selling to him what he already -had--to wit, the control of the VanTwiller Trust Company. From previous -operations the syndicate I have the honor to represent had accumulated -enough cash to render this operation feasible; but Welles watched the -trades in VanTwiller stock so closely that we could not have bought -a thousand shares without blocking our own game. So we planned our -operations very carefully, as we always do. And because I like you I -will tell you how we went about it--that you may profit by our example. - -First, I had to become instantly and sensationally known as the -possessor of vast wealth. The mere deposit of a million or two in a -bank would not do it. We must have the cash and a stupendous cash-making -property--hence the mines in the Klondike. Purely mythical mines, dear -lad! We sent to Alaska, bought $1,686,000 of gold-dust, put it in boxes, -and put a lot of lead in other boxes--now in the VanT. vaults!--thereby -increasing our less than two million into more than eight--and nobody -hurt thereby! Then the shipment to Seattle, so that every step could be -verified--and the special bullion train to New York; and the eccentric -miner--myself--with his gold--no myth about the gold--what? in a New -York hotel; and of course the reporters were only too willing to help -and to magnify our gold-dust. - -The _Planet's_ articles were our letters of introduction to the trust -company and to Wall Street. Could not have done better--could we? But -how to catch Welles off his guard? By breaking it down, of course. Best -way? By rousing jealousy. That's where you come in. Mrs. Welles must go -to England with you on the same steamer. How? By winning your friendship -and rousing your romantic interest in an unhappy love-affair--that -would, moreover, explain my interest in Mrs. Welles. Of course there -never was any Naida Deering for me to be interested in! - -But you had to meet Welles's wife. How? By means of your sisters. How -did I make friends of them? By reforming you and making you my heir. - -How did I make Mrs. Welles take the same steamer that you did? By having -her mother cable for her. How did I do that? Ask Miss Keogh. - -I admit that much of what we were compelled to do was not gentlemanly; -but, after all, our only crime is the crime of having been business -men--buying something at four dollars and selling it at five or six -dollars. - -Take my advice, dear boy, and stay on the water-wagon! If you marry Miss -Keogh I think you can show this letter to A. Welles and ask him to give -you a nice position in the trust company. - -I am sorry I cannot see you again; but believe me, dear boy, that we -are very grateful for your efficient assistance. We would send you a -check--only we need it in our business. Tell Jimmy Parkhurst to tell you -and Amos F. Kidder all about it. - -Yours truly, - -The Plunder Recovery Syndicate, Per Alfred Jerningham. - -But it was a long time before Frank Wolfe returned to New York--without -Miss Keogh, who flatly refused to marry him. Jerningham had disappeared, -leaving absolutely no trail. Parkhurst introduced Frank Wolfe to Fiske, -but all that came of it was that Fiske added a few fresh notes to his -collection. - - - - -IV--CHEAP AT A MILLION - - -I - -TOM MERRIWETHER, only son and heir of E. H. Merriwether, finished the -grape-fruit and took up the last of that morning's mail. He had acquired -the feminine habit of reading letters at the table from his father, who -had the wasteful American vice of time-saving. - -He read the card, frowned, glanced at his father, and seemed to be on -the point of speaking; but he changed his mind, laughed, and tore the -card into bits. - -The day was Monday, and this was what the card said: - -_If Mr. Thomas Thorne Merriwether will go to 777 Fifth Avenue any -forenoon this week and answer just one little question about his past -life he will hear something to his advantage._ - -Idle men who live in New York are always busy. Tom had many things to -think about; but all of them were about the present or the future. His -past caused him neither uneasiness nor remorse. - -On the following Monday young Mr. Merriwether received, among other -invitations, this: - -_If Tom Merriwether will call at 777 Fifth Avenue any forenoon this week -and answer one question he will do that which is both kindly--and wise!_ - -It was in the same handwriting, on the same kind of card, and in the -same kind of ink as the first. Now Tom had the Merriwether imagination. -His father exercised it in building railroads into waterless deserts -whereon he clearly saw a myriad men labor, love, and multiply, thereby -insuring freight and passengers to the same railroads. The son had to -invent his romances in New York. - -Ordinarily the second invitation would have given him something to busy -himself with; but it happened that he was at that moment planning to do -a heartbreaking thing without breaking any heart. Billy Larremore, the -veteran whose devotion to polo was responsible for so many of the -team's victories in the past, was not aware that age had bade him cease -playing. It would break his loyal heart not to play in the forthcoming -international match. Tom Merriwether had been delegated to break the -news. - -Thinking about it made him forget all about the letter until the -following Monday, when he received the third invitation: - -_Merriwether,--Come to 777 Fifth Avenue Tuesday morning at ten-thirty -without fail and answer the question._ - -He crumpled the card and was about to throw it away when he changed his -mind. Perhaps it would be wise to give it to a detective agency. But -what could he say he feared? Then he decided it was probably a joke. -Somebody wished to put him in the ridiculous position of ringing the -bell of 777, showing the card--and being told to get out. It was to be -regretted that this would seem funny to some of his perennially juvenile -intimates at the Rivulet Club. - -An hour later, as he walked down the Avenue, he looked curiously at 777. -It was one of those newcomer houses erected by speculative builders to -sell furnished to out-of-town would-be climbers or to local stock-market -bankers who, being Hebrews, were too sensible to wish to climb, but were -not sensible enough not to wish to live on Fifth Avenue. - -Tom resolved to ask Raymond Silliman, who played at being in the -real-estate business, to find out who lived at 777. Meantime he did a -little shopping--wedding-presents--and went to luncheon at his club. He -had not quite finished his coffee when he was summoned to the telephone. - -"Hello! Mr. Merriwether?" said a woman's voice--clear, sweet, and -vibrant, but unknown. "This is Miss Hervey--the nurse--Dr. Leighton's -trained nurse. They asked me to tell you about your father. Don't be -alarmed!" - -"Go on!" commanded young Merriwether, sharply. - -"It is nothing serious--really! But if you could come home it -probably--Yes, doctor! I am coming!" And the conversation ceased -abruptly. - -Tom instantly left the club. He took the solitary taxicab that stood in -front of the club. He afterward recalled the fact that there was only -one where usually there were half a dozen. - -"Eight-sixty-nine Fifth Avenue. Go up Madison to Sixtieth and then turn -into the Avenue. Hurry!" - -"Very good, sir," said the chauffeur. - -The taxicab dashed madly up Madison and up Fifth Avenue, and finally -stopped--not before the Merriwether home, but in front of Number 777. -Before he could ask the chauffeur what he meant by it both doors of the -cab opened at once and two men sandwiched between them Mr. Thomas Thorne -Merriwether. The one on the west, or Central Park, side threateningly -held in his hand a business-like javelin--not at all the kind that -silly people hang on the walls in their childish attempts at decorative -barbarity. The man who half entered the taxicab from the east, or -sidewalk, side held in his left hand a beer-schooner full of a colorless -liquid that smoked, and in his right something completely but loosely -covered by a white-linen handkerchief. - -"Please listen, Mr. Merriwether!" said the man with the glass. "Do -nothing! Don't even move! Hear me first!" - -"Is my father--" - -"I am glad to say he is well and happy, and working in his office -down-town. The message that brought you here was a subterfuge. Your -father is as usual. We arranged it so you had to take this particular -taxicab. Don't stir, please!" - -"What does all this mean?" asked Tom, impatiently. - -"I am about to have the honor of telling you," answered the man. - -He had no hat and wore clerical garments. His clean-shaved face was -pale--almost sallow--and young Merriwether noticed that his forehead -was very high. His dark-brown eyes were full of the earnestness of -all zealots, which makes you dislike to enter into an argument--first, -because of the futility of arguing with a zealot; and, second, because -said zealot probably knows a million times more about the subject than -you and can outargue you without trouble. So Tom simply listened with an -alertness that would not overlook any chance to strike back. - -"This glass contains fuming sulphuric acid. It will sear the face and -destroy the eyesight with much rapidity and completeness. Also"--here -he shook off the handkerchief from his right hand and showed a -revolver--"this is the very latest in automatics; marvelously efficient; -dumdum bullets; stop an elephant! I am about to solicit a great favor." - -Tom Merriwether looked into the earnest, pleading eyes. Then he glanced -on the other side, at the bull-necked husky with the business-like -spear. Then he turned to the clerical garb. - -"I see I am in the hands of my friends!" said Tom, pleasantly. - -"The doctor was right," said the man with the glass, as if to himself. - -"Come! Come!" said young Mr. Merriwether. "How much am I to give? You -know, I never carry much cash with me." - -"We, dear Mr. Merriwether," said the pale-faced man in an amazingly -deferential voice, "propose to be the donors. If you will kindly permit -us we shall give you what is more costly than rubies." - -"Yes?" Tom's voice was perhaps less skeptical than sarcastic. - -"Yes, sir. Would you be kind enough to accept our invitation--the -fourth, dear Mr. Merriwether--to join us at 777 Fifth Avenue--right -here, sir--and answer one question? Please listen carefully to what I am -saying: You don't have to go. Moreover, if you should go you don't have -to answer any question. We would not, for worlds, compel you. But, for -your own sake, for the sake of your father's peace of mind and of the -Merriwether fortune, for the sake of your happiness in this world and in -the next; for all that all the Merriwethers hold most dear--come with me -and, if you are very wise, answer the question that will be asked you by -the wisest man in all the world." - -"He must be a regular Solomon--" began Tom, but the man held up the -glass and went on, very earnestly: - -"Listen, please! If you decide to accept our invitation I shall spill -this acid in the street and I shall give you this revolver. I repeat, -you do not have to answer the question. You will not be harmed or -molested. I pledge you my word. Will you, in return, give me yours -to follow me at once into 777, and that you will not shoot unless you -sincerely think you are in danger?" - -Tom Merriwether looked at the pale-faced man a moment. He was willing to -take his chances with that face. Also, he could not otherwise find the -solution of this puzzling affair. Therefore he said: "Yes. I give you my -word." - -Instantly the pale-faced man with the high forehead laid the revolver on -the seat beside young Mr. Merriwether and withdrew from the cab. Tom saw -him spill the fuming acid into the gutter. The burly javelin-man took -himself off. The temptation to use the butt of the revolver on the -clerical-garbed man with the earnest eyes came to Tom, but he saw in -a flash that if he should do such a thing he would be compelled in -self-defense to tell a story utterly unbelievable. - -Moreover, the pale-faced man was a slender little chap of middle age and -no match for big Tom Merriwether. So, assuring himself that the revolver -was in truth loaded and that it worked, he put it in his pocket, kept -his grasp on it there, and got out of the taxicab. His one impelling -motive now was curiosity. Afraid? With the pistol and his muscles and -his youth, on Fifth Avenue, at two-thirty in the afternoon? - -The pale-faced man, the empty glass in one hand, walked toward the door -of 777 without so much as turning his head. Tom followed. - -The door was opened by a man in livery who took Mr. Merriwether's hat -and cane. Tom saw in the furnishings of the house--complete with that -curious unhuman completeness of a modern hotel--the kind of furnishings -that interior decorators usually sell to first-generation rich on -their arrival at Fifth Avenue residenceship. The furniture had every -qualification possessed by furniture in order not to suggest a home to -live in. Wherefore Tom, whose mind always worked quickly, reasoned to -himself: - -"Rented for the occasion to the man who has made me come to him." - -Also Tom noticed four men-servants, all of them well built and all of -them owning faces that somehow were not servant faces. The revolver, -which had seemed amply sufficient outside, seemed less so within the -house. Supposing he killed one--or even two--the other two would down -him in an affray. He tightened his grip on the revolver and planned and -rehearsed a shooting affair in which four men in livery were disabled -with four shots. A great pity E. H. Merriwether was such a very rich -man--a great pity for his son Tom. - -At a door, on the center panel of which was a monogram in black, red, -and gold the last of the footmen knocked gently. The door was thereupon -opened from within. - -"Mr. Thomas Thome Merriwether, 7-7-77!" announced the -intelligent-looking footman, with a very pronounced English accent. - -Mr. Thomas Thorne Merriwether entered. It was a _nouveau-riche_ library. -The Circassian-walnut bookcases and center-table were over-elaborately -carved, and the hangings of rich red velvet were over-elaborately -embroidered. The bronzes on the over-elaborate mantel looked as though -they had been placed there by somebody who was coming back in a minute -to take them away again. - -Altogether the apartment suggested a salesroom, and there was a note of -incongruity in a golden-oak filing-cabinet of the Grand Rapids school. - -At one end of the room in an arm-chair, with his back to a terrible -stained-glass window, sat a man of about forty. He had a calm, -remarkably steady gaze, with a sort of leisureliness about it that made -you think of a drawling voice. Also, an assurance--a self-consciousness -of knowledge--that was compelling. His chin was firm and there was a -suggestion of power and of control over power that reminded Tom of -a very competent engineer in charge of a fifty-thousand-horse-power -machine. - -"Kindly be seated, sir," said the man in a tone that subtly suggested -weariness. - -Tom sat down and looked curiously at the man, who went on: - -"Sir, I have a question to ask you. If you see fit to answer, be good -enough to answer it spontaneously and in good faith. Do not, I beg you, -in turn, ask me questions--such as, for example, why I wish to know what -I ask. If you decide not to answer you will leave this house unharmed, -accompanied by our profound regret that you should be so unintelligent -at your life's crisis." The man looked at Tom with a meditative -expression, then nodded to himself almost sorrowfully. - -Tom, though young, was a Merriwether. He said, politely, "Let me hear -the question, sir." - -He himself was thinking in questions: What can the question be? Who is -this man? What is the game? What will be the end of it all? - -"One question, sir," repeated the stranger. - -"I am listening, sir," Tom assured him, with a quiet, but quite -impressive, earnestness. - -"_Where did you spend your vacation at the end of your Freshman year?"_ - -Tom was so surprised, and even disappointed, that he hesitated. Then he -answered: - -"In Oleander Point, Long Island, in the cottage of Dr. Charles W. -Bonner, who was tutoring me. I had a couple of conditions and I stayed -until the third of September!" - -"Thank you! Thank you! That is all--unless, Mr. Merriwether, you wish to -do me and yourself three very great favors. Three!" - -He looked at Tom with a sort of intelligent curiosity, as of a chemist -conducting an experiment. - -"Let's hear what they are," said young Mr. Merriwether, calmly. - -It was at times like these that he showed whose son he was--alert, his -imagination active, his nerves under control, and his courage steady -and at par. He had, moreover, made up his mind that he would do some -questioning later on. - -"First favor: Concentrate your mind on how you used to spend your -bright, sunshiny days in Oleander Point and your beautiful moonlight -nights. Recall the pleasant people you were friendly with during those -happy weeks. Visualize that summer! Make an effort! Think!" - -It was a command, and Tom Merriwether found himself thinking of that -summer. He closed his eyes. His grip on the revolver in his pocket -relaxed.... He saw his friends. Some of them he had not seen in years. -Others he saw almost daily. And somehow it seemed to him that all the -girls were pretty and kindly; and in particular--well, there were in -particular three. But the affairs had come to nothing. - -He could not have told how long his reverie lasted--the mind traverses -long stretches of time, as of space, in seconds. - -"Well?" said Tom at length. - -"Thank you," said the man, with the matter-of-fact gratitude a man feels -toward a servant for some attention. - -He took from his pocket a small black-velvet bag, opened it, and spread -on the table before Tom Merriwether a dozen pearls, ranging in size from -a pea to a filbert. They were all of a beautiful orient. - -"I beg you to select one of these. You need not use it. You may give it -to your valet if you wish, or throw it out of the window. Only accept -it as a souvenir of our meeting. That, Mr. Merriwether, would be favor -number two." - -He pointed toward the pearls. Tom picked one--pear-shaped, white, -beautiful--and put it in his waistcoat pocket. The man swept the rest -into one of the drawers of the long library table. - -"I thank you very much," said Tom. He was not sure the pearls were not -genuine. - -"No; please don't," said the man. There was a pause. Presently he asked, -"Do you know anything about pearls, sir?" - -"I am no expert," answered Tom. "Characteristic. You Merriwethers are -brave enough to be truthful, and wise enough to be cautious. Have you -any opinions?" - -"I think they are beautiful," said Tom. - -"They are more than that. They represent, Mr. Merriwether, the hope of -the Kingdom of Heaven. The pearl is the symbol of purity, humility, -and innocence. Do you know the legend of the mild maid of God--Saint -Margaret of Antioch?" - -"No." - -"Margaret is from Margarites--Greek for pearl. And the reason why -faith--But I beg your pardon. Men who live alone talk too much when they -are no longer alone. I beg you to forgive me. Tell me, Mr. Merriwether, -did you ever hear of Apollonius of Tyana?" - -"Not until this minute," answered Tom. - -He felt almost tempted to ask whether the poor man was dead, but -refrained because he was honest enough to admit to himself that the -question would savor of bravado. Tom was consumed by curiosity as to -what would be the end of it all. To think of it--on Fifth Avenue, New -York, in broad daylight--all this! - -How money was to be made out of him he could not yet see. - -"I will show his talisman to you--the Dispeller of Darkness!" The -man clapped his hands twice. At the summons a negro walked in. He was -dressed in plain black and wore a fez. The man spoke some guttural words -and the negro salaamed and left the room. Presently he returned with a -silver tray on which were seven gold or gilt candlesticks and candles, -and seven gold or gilt small trays or plates, on each of which was a -pastil. - -He arranged the seven candlesticks in some deliberate design, carefully -measuring the distance of each from the other, and of all from a -point in the center. He arranged the plates and pastils about the -candlesticks. Then he left the room, to return with a lighted taper, -with which he lit the seven candles and the seven pastils. Tiny spirals -of fragrant smoke rose languidly in the still air. - -Again the negro left the room and returned with a small parcel wrapped -in a piece of raw silk which he gave to his master. He then went away -for good. - -The man began to mutter something to himself and very carefully took off -the silk cover, revealing a wonderfully carved ivory box. He opened the -gold-hinged lid and took out a silver case. He opened that and from it -took a gold box elaborately though crudely chased. He opened the gold -box and within it, oh a little white-velvet pad, was a cross of dull -gold curiously engraved. He put the pad, with the cross on it, in -the middle of the seven lights. On the arms of the cross and at the -intersection Tom saw seven wonderful emeralds remarkable as to size, -beautiful as to color. - -"Look at it, Mr. Merriwether. It is priceless. The gems alone are worth -a king's ransom. If you consider it merely as a piece of ancient art -there is no telling what a man like Mr. W. H. Garrettson would not give -for it. And as a talisman, with its tried wonder-working powers, there -is, of course, not enough money in all the world to pay for it." - -Tom stretched his hand toward it. - -"Please! Do not touch it, I beg," said the man, in a voice in which the -alarm was so evident that Tom drew his hand back as though he had seen -a cobra on the table. "Not yet! Not yet!" said the man. "It is the most -wonderful object in existence. It is a cross that antedates Christ!" - -"Really?" - -"It is obviously of a much earlier period than the Messiah. Great -scholars have thought it a legend, but here it is before you. It -belonged to Apollonius of Tyana, the wonder-worker. Philostratus, who -wrote the life of that great man, does not mention this talisman; he -dared not! Apollonius, who to this day is not known ever to have died, -gave it to a disciple, who gave it to a friend." - -Tom looked interested. - -"We know who has owned it. It was worn by Arcadius in the fifth century. -The Goths took it and Alaric gave it to the daughter of his most trusted -captain, who commanded his citadel of Carcassonne. Clovis, a hundred -years later, secured it at the sack of Toulouse. We have records of its -having been praised by Eligius, the famous jeweler of Dagobert, in the -seventh century. It was included in the famous treasures of Charlemagne. -It went to Palestine during the first and third crusades--the first time -carried by a maid who loved a knight who did not love her. She went as -his squire, he not suspecting her sex until they were safely back in -France, when he married her. It is a wonderful talisman. The emeralds -came from Mount Zabara. They have the power to drive away the evil -spirits and also to preserve the chastity of the wearer. Moreover, they -give the power to foretell events. Apollonius did--time and again. This -is historically true. But alone he, of all the men who have owned it, -never had a love-affair; hence his clairvoyance. I have bored you. -Forgive me!" - -"Not at all. I was interested. It is all so--er--so--" - -"Incredible--yes! There is no reason why you should believe it. It is of -no consequence whether you think me a lunatic or a charlatan." - -He said this with a cold indifference that made Tom look incuriously -at the man, whose obvious desire was to excite curiosity. Then the man -said, with an earnestness that in spite of himself impressed the heir of -the Merriwether railroads: - -"Mr. Thomas Thorne Merriwether, classified in our books as 7-7-77, you -are the man I need for this job!" - -"Indeed?" said Tom, politely. - -"Yes, you are." Tom bowed his head and looked resigned. He deliberately -intended to look that way. The man went on, "The reason I am so sure is -because I know both who and what you are." - -"Ah, you know me pretty well, then." Tom could not help the mild -sarcasm. - -"I have known you, young man, for eighty-five years, perhaps longer." -The man spoke calmly. - -"Indeed!" said Tom. He was twenty-eight. - -"Yes. On top of that cabinet is a book. After the name Thomas Thorne -Merriwether you will find 7-7-77. In the cabinet--seventh section, -seventh drawer, card Number 77--you will find clinical data, -physiological and psychological details, anecdotes, and so on, about you -and your father, E. H. Merriwether, and your mother, Josephine Thorne; -your grandfathers, Lyman Grant Merriwether and Thomas Conkling Thorne, -and of your grandmothers, Malvina Sykes Thorne and Lydia Weston -Merriwether. Indeed I know about your great-grandfathers and three of -your great-great-grandparents; but the data in their case are of little -value save as to Ephraim Merriwether, who in seventeen sixty-three -killed in one duel three army officers who laughed at his twisted nose, -bitten and disfigured for life by a wolf-cub he had tried to tame. Facts -not generally known, but, for all that, facts, young Mr. Thomas Thome -Merriwether, which enable me to say that I have known you these hundred -and fifty years--if there is anything in heredity, environment, and -education! And now, shall I tell you what favor number three is?" - -"If you please," said Tom. - -For the first time he felt that the usual suspicions as to a merrymaking -game could not be justified in this particular instance. It was much too -elaborate for a practical joke. He did not know how the matter would -end; but he did not care. In New York, on Fifth Avenue, on Tuesday -afternoon, he was having what, indeed, was an experience! - -"I beg that you will listen attentively. You will take the Dispeller -of Darkness with you. Do not open the gold box under any circumstances. -Tonight go to 7 East Seventy-seventh Street so as to be there at eight -o'clock sharp. The door will not be locked. Don't ring. Walk in. Go -up one flight of stairs to the front room--there is only one. You will -stand in the middle of the room, with the talisman resting on the palm -of your hand--thus! Do nothing! Say nothing! Wait there! The talisman -will be taken from you by a person. Do not try to detain her--this -person. After the talisman is taken from you count a hundred--not too -fast! At the end of your count leave the room and come back here and -tell me whether you have carried out my instructions. Now, young sir, -let me say to you that you don't have to do what I am asking you to do. -There is no compulsion whatever. There is no crime in contemplation--no -attempt is to be made against your life, your fortune, or your morals. I -pledge you my word, sir!" - -The man looked straight into Tom's eyes. Tom bowed gravely. This man -must be crazy--and yet he certainly was not. This interested Tom by -perplexing him as he had never been perplexed in his eight-and-twenty -years. - -"Mr. Merriwether, this will be the most important step of your life. Its -bearing on your happiness is vital--also on the success of your great -father's vast plans. I give you my personal word that this is so." There -was a pause. Tom had nothing to say. The man went on: - -"If you care to take reasonable precautions against attack do so. Thus, -keep the revolver you now have in your pocket--it is excellent. Try it -and make certain. You may write a detailed account of what has happened -and leave it with your valet; but mark on it that it is not to be opened -unless you fail to return by 10 p.m. Also you may, if you wish, station -ten private detectives across the way from 7 East Seventy-seventh -Street, and instruct them to go into the house at a single shout from -you or at the sound of a shot. Believe me, it is not your life that is -in danger, sir!" - -"I believe you," said Tom, reassuringly. - -"Will you do me favor number three?" The man looked at Tom with a -steady, unblinking, earnest--one might even say honest--stare. - -Tom considered. His mind worked not only quickly, but -Merriwether-fashion. He saw all the possibilities of danger, but he saw -the unknown--and the lust of adventure won. He looked the man in the -eyes and said, quietly: - -"I will." - -"Thank you. There is the talisman. Each of the seven emeralds is -flawless--the only seven flawless emeralds of that size in existence. -Two of them have been in great kings' crowns, and the center stone -was in the tiara of seven popes; after which, the Great Green Prophecy -having been fulfilled, it came back to its place on the Cross. -Apollonius raised people from the dead, according to eyewitnesses. The -pagans tried to confute the believers in Christian miracles by bringing -forward the miracles of the sage of Tyana--and they did not know that -Apollonius wrought marvels by the Sign of the Son of Man--the Cross! -This cross! I pray that you will be careful with it. Show it to nobody. -You have understood your instructions?" - -Tom repeated them. - -"Precisely! I did not make a mistake, you see. In spite of your father's -millions you will be what your destiny wills. Young man, good luck to -you!" The man rose and walked toward the door. Tom Merriwether followed -him and was politely bowed out of the room. From there to the street -entrance the four athletic footmen, with the over-intelligent faces, -took him in tow, one at a time. And it was not until he was out on the -Avenue, headed north, walking toward his own house, that Thomas Thorne -Merriwether, clean-living miltimillionaire idler, shook himself, as -if to scatter the remnants of a dream, felt the butt of the revolver, -hefted the silk-wrapped parcel in which was the talisman, and said, -aloud, so that a couple of pedestrians turned and smiled sympathetically -at the young man, who must be in love, since he talked to himself: - -"What in blazes is it all about?" - - - -II - -His perplexing experience developed so insistent a curiosity in Tom -that he grew irritable even as he walked. That some sort of a game was -being worked he had no doubt; but the fact that he could see no object -or motive increased his wrath. He discarded all suggestion of violence, -though he was bound to admit now that anybody could be kidnapped in New -York in broad daylight. - -He decided to begin by verifying those allusions and references that he -remembered. He walked down the Avenue to the Public Library and there he -read what he could of Apollonius and of Eligius, the marvelous goldsmith -who afterward became Saint Eloi. The helpful and polite library -assistant at length suggested a visit to Dr. Lentz, the gem expert -of Goffony & Company, a man of vast erudition as well as a practical -jeweler. Tom promptly betook himself to the famous jewel-shop. - -They knew the heir of the seventy-five Merri-wether millions, and -impressively ushered him into Dr. Lentz's office. Tom shook hands with -the fat little man, whose wonderfully shaped head had on it no hair -worth speaking of, and handed him the pearl he had picked out from -the dozen the man in 777 Fifth Avenue had placed before him. Dr. Lentz -looked at it, weighed it in his hand, and, without waiting to be asked -any questions, answered what nearly everybody always asked him: - -"Persian Gulf. About fifteen grains--perhaps a little more. We sell some -like it for about thirty-five hundred dollars." - -"Thanks," said Tom, and put the pearl in his pocket. - -If it was a joke it was expensive. If not, the other pearls the man had -shown, nearly all of which were larger, must have been worth from fifty -thousand to a hundred thousand dollars. Such is the power of money that -this young man, destined to be one of the richest men in the world -and, moreover, one who did not particularly think about money, was -nevertheless impressed by the stranger's careless handling of the -valuable pearls. He concluded subconsciously that the talisman was even -more valuable. He took the package from his coat pocket and gave it to -Dr. Lentz. - -"Raw silk--Syrian," murmured the gem expert, and undid the covering. - -"Ha! Italo-Byzantine. The Raising of Tabitha. No! no!" He glared at -young Merriwether, who retreated a step. "Very rare! It's the Raising -of Jairus's Daughter. Same workmanship in similar specimen in the -Lipsanoteca, Museo Civico, Brescia. If so, not later than fourth -century. Very rare! H'm!" - -"Is it?" said Tom. "I don't know much about ivories." - -"No? Read Molinier! Græven!" - -"Thank you. I will, Dr. Lentz." - -Dr. Lentz opened the little ivory box and pulled out the silver case. - -"Ha! H'm! Not so rare! Asia Minor. Probably eighth century." - -"B C?" - -"Certainly not. Key? H'm!" - -"Haven't got it here," evaded Tom. - -The little savant turned to his secretary and said, "Bring drawer marked -forty-four, inner compartment, antique-gem safe." - -He was examining the little box, nodding his head, and muttering, "H'm! -H'm!" Tom felt the ground slipping away from under the feet of his -suspicions even while his perplexity waxed monumental. And with it came -the satisfaction of a man convincing himself that he is neither wasting -his time nor making himself ridiculous. - -The clerk returned with a little drawer in which Tom saw about a hundred -and fifty keys. - -"Replicas! Originals in museums of world!" explained Lentz. "H'm!" He -turned the keys over with, a selective forefinger. "It's that one or -this one." And he picked out two. "Probably this! Damascus! Eighth -century. Byzantine influence still strong. See that? And that? And that? -H'm!" He inserted the little key and opened the casket. He saw the gold -box within. "Ha! H'm! Thracian! How did you get this? H'm!" He -raised his head, looked at Tom fiercely, and then said, coldly, "Mr. -Merriwether, this has been stolen from the British Museum!" - -It beautifully complicated matters. Tom's heart beat faster with -interest. - -"Are you sure?" he asked, being a Merriwether. "Wait! H'm!" He lifted -it out and examined the back. "No! No! Thracian! Of the Bisaltæ! Time of -Lysimachus! But--Well! Aryan symbolism! Possibly taken to India by one -of Alexander's captains--perhaps Lysimachus himself! And--Oh! Oh, early -Christians! Oh, early damned fools! See that? Smoothed away to put -that--Oh, beasts! Heritics in art! Curious! Do you know the incantation -to use before opening?" - -"It was in Greek, and--" - -"Of course!" - -"Yes. He said this had belonged to Apollonius of Tyana." - -"How much does he ask?" - -"It is not for sale." - -"Inside is a pentagram?" - -"No; a cross, with seven emeralds as big as that, all flawless."' - -"There are only two such emeralds in the world without flaws and we have -one of them. The other is owned by the Archbishop of Bogota, Colombia." - -"He said these were flawless and that he has proofs. He says Eligius -studied this--" - -"Mr. Merriwether, you have on your hands either a very dangerous -impostor or else--H'm! He must be an impostor! How much does he want?" - -"It is not for sale!" - -"H'm! Worse and worse! If I can be of use let me know! They'll fool us -all! All! Good day!" And Dr. Lentz walked away, leaving Tom more puzzled -than ever, but now determined to go to 7 East Seventy-seventh Street at -eight o'clock that night. - -He went home and wrote an account of what had happened, placed it in an -envelope, sealed the envelope, and gave it to his valet. - -"If you don't hear from me by ten o'clock tonight give this to my -father; but don't give it to him one minute before ten. And you stay in -until you hear from me." - -"Very good, sir." - -He then went to the club, ordered an early dinner for two, and invited -his friend Huntington Andrews to go with him. He did not go into -details. - -Shortly before eight he stationed Andrews across the way from 7 East -Seventy-seventh Street and told him: - -"If I am not back here at eight-fifteen come in after me. If you don't -find me go to my house and wait until ten. My man has instructions. See -my father." - -Tom was Merriwether enough to have in readiness not only an extra -revolver to give to his friend, but also a heavy cane and an electric -torch. Also he drove Huntington to within a hair's-breadth of death by -unsatisfied curiosity. - -At one minute before eight Mr. Thomas Thome Merriwether went into the -house of mystery, realizing for the first time how often the mystic -number seven recurred. The Bible teemed with allusions to the seven -stars, the seven seals, the seven-branched candlestick, the seven -mortal sins. The Greeks had Seven Wise Men and Seven Sleepers, and the -Pythagoreans saw magic in all the heptamerides. And there were seven -notes of music and seven primary colors, and seven hills in the Eternal -City. Also, it had never before occurred to him that he was born on the -seventh day of the seventh month. And now it had its effect. - -He tried the door. It opened when he turned the knob. The hall was dark, -but he could descry the staircase. He grasped his revolver firmly and -entered. - -There was a smell of undusted floors and unaired walls. The darkness -thickened with each step as he climbed, compelling him to grope. And -because he groped there came to him that fear which always comes with -uncertainty. It permeated his soul and was intensified, without becoming -more concrete, by reason of the ghostly emptiness peculiar to all -unoccupied houses. The absence of furniture served merely to fill the -comers with shadows that bred uneasiness. People had been there; people -no longer were! The house was empty of humanity, but full of other -beings--impalpable suspects that made the flesh creep! It was like -death--unseen, but felt with the senses of the soul. - -There was no place, decided Tom, so fit to murder people in as an empty -house. His adventure now took on an aspect of reckless folly. But though -he felt in this ghostly house what might be called the ghost of fear, he -also felt the impelling force of an intelligent curiosity. In this young -man's soul was a love of adventure, a gambler's philosophy, a reserve -force of cold intelligence and warm imagination such as is found in the -great explorers, the great chemists, and the great buccaneers of dollars. - -That was why in the year of grace 1913 Tom Merriwether stood in the -middle of the second-story front room of a house situated in a very -good street, only three doors from Fifth Avenue, with his left hand -outstretched, and on the open palm of it a cross with a Greek name that -meant Dispeller of Darkness--in a darkness that could not be dispelled. -His right hand grasped the butt of an automatic.45 loaded with -elephant-stopping bullets--but of what avail was that against a knock in -the head from behind? - -Listening for soft footsteps, he seemed to hear them time and again--and -time and again not to hear them! People nowadays, he finally decided, -do not want to take other people's lives--only their money. Whereupon he -once more grew calm--and intensely curious! He had not one cent of money -on his person. He had left it at home intentionally. - -Presently he thought he heard sounds--faint musical murmurings in -the air about him, low wailings of violins, scarcely more than Æolian -harpings, and pipings as of tiny flutes--almost indistinguishable. Then -a delicate swish-swish, as of silken garments. Also, there came to him a -subtle fragrance that turned first into an odorous sigh and then into -a summer breath of sweet peas; and he imagined--he must have -imagined--hearing, "I do love you!" ah, so softly! - -He smelled now the odor of sweet peas, which stirred sleeping memories -without fully awakening them, as all flower odors do by what the -psychologists call association. He heard, "I do love you!"--and then the -Dispeller of Darkness was taken from his outstretched hand. - -He stood there, his muscles tense, braced for a shock, ready for a life -struggle, perhaps half a minute before the sound of footsteps retreating -in the hall outside recalled to him his instructions. He vehemently -desired to follow and see who it was that had taken the Dispeller of -Darkness; but he had pledged his word not to. He hesitated. - -The odor of sweet peas was flooding him as with waves. And he heard, "I -do love you!"--heard it again and again with the inner ear of his soul, -the listener of delights. He thrilled at the thought of being loved. It -made him incredibly happy. He felt unbelievably young! - -Suddenly it occurred to him that he had not counted a hundred as he had -promised, though he must have spent more than a minute wool-gathering. -He counted a hundred as fast as he could and then hastened from the -room. It was plain that Tom Merriwether was already doing incredible -things or, at least, failing to do the obvious. Great is the power of -suggestion on an imaginative mind! - -He flashed his electric torch. He was in a bare room with a dusty -hardwood floor, ivory-tinted wainscoting, and a Colonial mantel. The -hall was empty. - -He walked down the stairs, his steps raising disquieting echoes and -creepy creakings. - -Mindful of his waiting friend outside, he quickly walked out of the -gloom into which he had carried the Dispeller of Darkness of Apollonius -of Tyana, the cross of the seven emeralds. Huntington Andrews saw him -coming and crossed over to meet him. - -"How did you make out, Tom?" - -"I'm a damned fool, Huntington; and so are you! And so is everybody!" - -"Right-O!" agreed Andrews, who was inveterately amiable and, moreover, -loved Tom. - -"It's the most diabolical--" Tom paused. - -"Yes, it is," agreed Huntington Andrews, so obviously anxious to dispel -his friend's ill temper that Tom laughed and said, cheerfully: - -"Come on, me brave bucko!" And together they walked to the corner and -then down the Avenue to 777. - -"Huntington, you wait here; and if I am not back by nine-forty-five go -to my house. At ten o'clock have my valet deliver the letter I gave him -for my father. You can be of help to the governor if you will." - -And Huntington Andrews asked no questions--he was a friend. - -Tom rang the bell of 777. The door opened. One of the four -over-intelligent-looking footmen stepped to one side respectfully. - -"Is your--" began Tom. - -"Yes, Mr. Merriwether," answered the man, with a deference such as only -royalty elicits. - -He then delivered Tom to footman number two, who in turn escorted him -as far as number three; then number four led him to the door of the -master's library. The footman knocked, opened the door and announced, -with a curious solemnity: - -"Mr. Thomas Thorne Merriwether, 7-7-77." - -The strange man was there in his arm-chair, his back to the window. The -room was lit by candles. The man rose and said, respectfully: - -"I thank you, Mr. Merriwether." - -"Don't mention it," said Tom, amiably. - -The man bowed his head and looked at Tom meditatively. Tom was the first -to break the silence. - -"May I ask what--" Tom began, but was checked by the other, who held up -his right hand with the gesture of a traffic policeman and said, slowly: - -"A message in the dark! You carried one to another soul, who waited for -it. And that other soul is taking one to you. Some day you will meet -her. You will marry her. There is no doubt whatever of that. None! Ask -me no questions, Mr. Merriwether. I ask nothing of you--no money, no -time, no services, no work, no favors--nothing! Your fate is not in my -hands. It never was! You will follow your destiny. It will take you by -the hand and lead you to her!" - -"That is very nice of destiny." - -"My young friend, you are very rich, very powerful. You can do -everything. You fear nothing. This is the year nineteen hundred and -thirteen. But I tell you this: the woman who will be your wife, in this -world and throughout eternity has received your message. It was ordained -from the beginning. You have not seen her; you have not heard her; you -have not touched her. And yet you will know her when you see her and -when you hear her and when you feel her. Into the darkness you went. Out -of the darkness she will come. Nothing you can do can change it. Improve -your hours by thinking of her. Think of the love you have to give her! -Think of it constantly! Of your love! Yours! Of hers you cannot guess. -The love you will give will make her your mate! Your love! And so, -Thomas Thome Merriwether, think of the One Woman!" - -"I think--" - -"I know! Amusement, sneers, skepticism, anger--all are one to me. I -ask nothing, expect nothing, desire nothing, and fear nothing from you, -young sir. A queer experience this--eh? An unexplained and apparently -unconcluded little game? A plot foiled by your cleverness--what? A joke? -A piece of lunacy? Call it anything you wish. Again I thank you. Good -evening, Mr. Merriwether." - -And Tom was politely ushered from the room by the strange man and from -the house by the four over-intelligent footmen. - - - -III - -Next day Tom Merriwether found himself unable to think of anything but -the mystery of the fateful Tuesday. He felt baffled. His curiosity had -been repulsed at every step. In their definite incomprehensibility all -the incidents that he so vividly recalled took on an irritating quality -that made him a morose and uncomfortable companion. Huntington Andrews -noticed it at luncheon; and so admirable was the quality of his -amiability that after the coffee he said: - -"Tom, I've got important business to attend to to-day, and if you don't -mind I'll be off now. Of course if you think I can help you in any way -all you have to do is to tell me what it is." - -"Huntington, you are the best friend in the world. I've been thinking--" - -Tom paused and stared into vacancy. He was trying to recall whether the -man at 777 Fifth Avenue had a criminal look about the eyes. Huntington -Andrews rose very quietly and walked away. He knew his friend wished to -think--alone. - -Lost in his exasperating speculations, Tom finally ceased, thinking -of the man and began to think of the girl. Was the game to rouse his -interest in an unknown, later to be introduced to him? Was the scheme -one that involved an adventuress? Why all the claptrap? And why had -his thoughts, in spite of himself, dwelt so persistently on love and -somebody to love? Why had the springtime--since the night before--come -to mean a time for loving? Why had he begun to see, in flashes, -tantalizing glimpses of rosy cheeks and bright eyes? Why had he -permitted his own mind to be influenced by the strange man's remarks, -so that Tom Merri-wether was indeed thinking--if he would be honest with -himself--of marriage? Was his affinity on her way to him at this very -moment, as the man said? He began to hope she was. - -He dined at home and was so preoccupied at the table that even his -father noticed it. - -"What's up, Tom?" - -"What? Oh! Nothing, dad! I was just thinking." - -"Terrible thing, my boy--thinking at meal-time," said E. H. Merriwether, -with a self-conscious look of badinage. - -"Yes, it is. I'll quit." - -"Is it anything about which you need advice--or help, my boy?" said the -great little railroad dynast, very carelessly. - -His eyes never left his son's face; but when Tom raised his gaze to -meet his father's the elder Merriwether showed no interest. Tom knew his -father and felt the paternal love that insisted on concealing itself as -though it were a weakness. - -"No, indeed. There is nothing the matter--really. I was thinking I'd -like to do a man's work. I guess you'd better let me go with you on your -next tour of inspection." - -The face of the czar of the Southwestern & Pacific lighted up. - -"Will you?" he said, with an eagerness that made his voice almost -tremble. - -"Yes." - -And that evening E. H. Merriwether delivered a long lecture on railroad -strategy and railroad financing to his son, which brought them very -close to each other. - -On the next day, however, all thoughts of being his great father's -successor were subordinated to the feeling that, if Mr. Thomas Thome -Merriwether had to be the successor of a railroad man, he should himself -take steps to provide his own successors. Feeling that he was his -father's son made him think of paternity. And that made him think of the -message he had delivered in the dark and of the message the man had -said would some day come to Tom Merriwether. He drew a deep breath and -thought he smelled sweet peas. And that somehow made him think of the -girl he should marry. Try as he might, he could not quite see her face. -He thought he kissed her, and he inhaled the fragrance of sweet peas. -Her complexion was beautiful. No more! - -On the afternoon of the third day Tom decided that he was wasting too -much time in thinking of the possible meaning of his queer experience, -and also that it was of little use trying not to think about it. -Therefore he would try to put an end to the perplexity. - -He went to 777 Fifth Avenue and rang the bell. A footman opened the door -and stared at him icily. Tom perceived he was not one of the men whose -faces looked too intelligent for footmen. - -"I wish to see Mr.--er--your master." - -"Does he expect you, sir?" The tone was not as respectful as footmen -in Fifth Avenue houses used in speaking to the heir of the Merriwether -millions. "No; but he knows me." - -"Who knows you, sir?" - -"Your master." - -"Could you tell me his name, sir?" - -"No; but I can tell you mine." - -"He's not at home, sir." - -"I'm Mr. Merriwether. Say I wish to speak to him a moment." - -"I'm sorry, sir. He's not in." - -The footman was so unimpressed by the name of Merriwether that Tom -experienced a new sensation, one which made him less sure of his own -powers. He took out a card and a bank-note and held them out toward the -man. - -"I am anxious to see him." - -"Im sorry. I can't take it, sir," said the footman, with such melancholy -sincerity that Tom smiled at the torture of the cockney soul. - -Then he ceased to smile. The master of this mysterious house had -compelled even the footmen to obey him! - -"But if you will call again in an hour, sir, I think perhaps, sir--" - -"Thank you. Take it anyhow." - -He again held out the bank-note. The man saw it was for twenty dollars, -and almost turned green. - -"I--I d-daresent, sir!" he whimpered, and closed his eyes with the -expression of an anchoret resolved not to see the beautiful temptress. - -Tom left him, walked across the Avenue to the Park, and sat down on a -bench. He settled down to think calmly over the mysterious affair, and -looked about him. - -The grass in the turf places had taken on a definite green, as though -it were May. The trees were not yet in leaf, making the grass-greenness -seem a trifle premature, but Tom noticed that the buds on the trees and -shrubs were bursting; there were little feathery tips of tender red and -pale green--tiny wings about to flutter upward because the sun and the -sky beckoned to them to go where it was bright and warm. The sky was of -a spotless turquoise, as though the spring cleaning up there had been -thorough. The clouds were of silver freshly burnished for the occasion. -The air was alive, laden with subtle thrills; it throbbed invisibly, -as though the light were life, and life were love. He saw hundreds of -sparrows, and they all twittered; and all the twitterings were very, -very shrill, and yet very, very musical. And also they twittered in -couples that hopped and darted and aerially zigzagged--always together -and always twittering! - -A policeman stopped and said something to a nurse-maid. The nurse-maid -said something to the policeman. He was young and she was pretty. Then -the policeman said nothing to the nurse-maid, and the nurse-maid said -nothing to the policeman. Then two faces turned red. Then one face -nodded yes. Then the other face walked away, swinging a club; and--by -all that was marvelous!--swinging the club in time to the tune the -sparrows were twittering--in couples--the same tune, as though the -club-swinger's soul were whistling it! - -Tom smiled uncertainly--he wanted to give money, lots of it, to the -policeman and to the nursemaid; and he knew it was impossible--it was -too obviously the intelligent thing to do! So, instead, he drew a deep -breath. - -Instantly there came to him not the odor of spring and of green things -growing, but of sweet peas and summer winds, and changing, evanescent -faces, pink-and-white as flowers, with flower-odor associations and eyes -full of glints and brightnesses that recalled dewdrops and sunlight and -stars. And these glittering points shifted in tune to the twittering of -birds and the swinging of Park policemen's clubs. - -Love was in the air! Love was making Tom Mer-riwether impatient, as that -love which is the love of loving always makes the mateless man. - -He could no longer sit calmly. He could not sit at all. He craved to -do something, to do anything, so long as it was motion. Therefore he -walked briskly northward. At Ninetieth Street he halted abruptly. He had -begun to walk mechanically and he could think of what he did not wish to -think. So he shook himself free from the spell and walked back. - -An hour had passed. He again rang the bell of 777. The same footman -opened the door. - -"Is he in?" asked Tom, impatiently. - -"Yes, sir--he is, sir. I told him the moment he came in, sir." He looked -as uncomfortable as a lifelong habit of impassivity permitted. - -"What did he say?" asked Tom. - -"He said: 'How much did he offer to give you when you said I wasn't at -home?' Yes, sir. That's what he asked me." - -"And you said?" - -"I said it was a yellowback, sir. That's all I could see. I said I -wouldn't take it, and he said I might just as well have taken it. Thank -you, sir! This way, sir." - -The footman led the way to the door in the rear, rapped, and in the -sonorous, triumphant voice that a twenty-dollar tip will give to any -menial he announced: - -"Mr. Merriwether!" - -The same man was in the same chair in the same room, with his back to -the stained-glass window. Tom recalled all the incidents of his previous -visits--recalled every detail. Also the old question: What is the game? -Also the new question: Where is she? - -The man rose and bowed. It was the bow of a social equal, Tom saw. - -"Good morning, Mr. Merriwether. Won't you be seated, sir?" And he -motioned him to a chair. - -"Thank you." - -"How can I serve you?" - -"Who is the woman?" said Tom, abruptly. "Your fate!" answered the man. - -"Her name?" - -"I cannot tell you." - -"Her address?" - -"I don't know it." - -"What is your game?" - -"I have money enough for my whims and time enough to gratify my desire -to help you. Eugenics is my hobby. I recognize that I cannot fight -against the decree of destiny." - -"I am tired of all this humbug." - -"I ask nothing of you now. You can go or you can come. You can go to -India or to Patagonia--or even farther. You may send detectives and -lawyers, or even thugs, to me. You may cease your search for her--if you -can!" - -"You have roused my curiosity--" - -"That is a sign of intelligence." - -"I tell you now that I don't believe a word of what you say." - -"Free country, young man." - -"I've had enough of this nonsense--" - -"Though I am always glad to see you, young sir, and would not wound your -feelings for worlds"--the man's voice was very polite, but also very -cold--"I might be forgiven for observing that I did not ask you to -call." - -"I'll give you a thousand dollars--" - -The man stopped him with a deprecatory wave of the hand. - -"One of the pearls I offered you, Mr. Merriwether, is valued at ten -thousand dollars. You did not select that one; but I'll exchange the one -you took for it--now if you wish." - -"That's all very well, but--" Tom paused, and the man cut in: - -"Do you wish to see her from a safe distance? Or do you wish to talk to -her without seeing her? Or--" - -"To see her and talk to her!" - -"Wait!" - -The man intently regarded the tip of Tom's left shoe for fully five -minutes. Then he raised his head and clapped his hands twice. The black -manservant with the fez appeared. - -The man said something in Arabic--at least it sounded so to Tom. The -black answered. The man spoke again. The black replied: - -The man said what sounded to Tom like, "_Ay adad_." - -The negro answered, "_Al-sabi! Al-sabi wal Saboun_." - -The man waved his hand dismissingly and the negro salaamed and left the -room. - -After a moment the man turned to Tom and said, with obvious perplexity: -"I am not sure it is wise for me to meddle, but perhaps it is written -that I am to help you three times. Who knows?" - -He stared into Tom's eyes as though he would read a word there--either -yes or no. But Tom said, a trifle impatiently: - -"Well, sir?" - -"Go to the opera to-night. Take seat H 77. No other seat will do." - -"H 77--to-night," repeated Thomas Thorne Merriwether. - -"The opera is 'Madame Butterfly.'" - -"Thanks," said Tom, and started for the door. He halted when the man -spoke. - -"It is the seat back of G 77. None other will do." - -"Good day, sir," said Tom, and left the room. - - - -IV - -The telephone operator in E. H. Merriwether's office manipulated the -plugs in the switchboard and answered in advance: - -"Mr. Merriwether's office!" - -From the other end of the wire came: - -"This is the Rivulet Club. Mr. Waters wishes to speak to Mr. E. H. -Merriwether. Personal matter." - -"He's engaged just now. Will any one else do?" - -"No. Say it is Mr. Waters--about Mr. Tom Merriwether." - -People resorted to all manner of tricks and subterfuges to speak to Mr. -E. H. Merriwether--deluded people who thought they could get what they -wished if only they could speak to Mr. Merriwether himself. They never -succeeded. He was too well guarded by highly paid experts who prevented -the waste of his precious time. But the telephone operator knew her -business. She switched the would-be conversationalist on to the private -secretary's line, saying: "Mr. Waters, Rivulet Club, wishes to speak to -Mr. E. H. in regard to Mr. Tom Merriwether." - -"I'll talk to him," hastily said the private secretary. - -"Hello, Mr. Waters! This is McWayne, Mr. Merriwether's private -secretary. Has anything happened to Tom that--Oh! Yes--of course! At -once, Mr. Waters." - -McWayne then had the operator put Mr. Waters on Mr. E. H.'s wire. - -"Who?" said the czar of the Pacific & Southwestern. "Waters? Oh yes. Go -ahead!" - -And Mr. E. H. Merriwether heard, in a young man's voice: - -"Say, Mr. Merriwether, some of the fellows here thought I'd better speak -to you about Tom. He's been acting kind of queer; of course I don't mean -crazy or--er--alarming; but--don't you know?--unusual.... Yes, sir! A -little unusual for him, Mr. Merriwether. To-day it was about the opera. -Says he's got to get a certain seat, no matter what it costs. Of course -it isn't our business.... Oh no! he never drinks too much. No; never! We -don't think we are called on to follow him to the Metropolitan, where he -has just gone; but we thought you ought to know it. Please don't bring -us into any--you know we are very fond of Tom; and we were a little -worried, he's been so unlike himself lately. We teased him about -being in love, and he--er--he seemed to get quite angry.... Yes, Mr. -Merriwether; we'll keep you posted; and please don't give me away. It -was a very delicate matter and--Don't mention it, Mr. Merriwether. We'd -all do anything for Tom, sir. Good-by." - -E. H. Merriwether, the greatest little cuss in the world, as his -admirers called him, hung up the telephone. His face, that impassive -gambler's face which never told anything, now showed as plainly as could -be that he was wounded in a vital spot. - -His son Tom was all this great millionaire had! - -His railroad became so much junk and his vast plans just so much waste -paper as he thought of Tom. Was the boy going insane? Was it drugs? Was -it one of those mysterious maladies that break millionaires' hearts by -baffling the greatest physicians of the entire world and being beyond -the reach of gold? Or was it a joke? Young Evert Waters was a friend -of Tom's; but might not he exaggerate? He rang the bell for his private -secretary. - -"McWayne, send somebody with brains to the Metropolitan Opera House to -find out whether my son Tom has been up there--box-office--and what he -is up to. I want to know how he acts. I want to know where the boy -goes and what he does, whom he sees and where. Get some specialist -on--er"--he could not bring himself to say mental diseases--"on nervous -troubles, and make an appointment with him to come to my house to-morrow -morning. He will have breakfast with us--say, at eight-thirty. I don't -want Tom to know." - -He avoided McWayne's eyes. - -"Yes, sir," said McWayne. - -"Be ready to notify the papers to suppress any and all stories about -Tom. I fear nothing and expect nothing, because I know nothing. Drop -everything else and attend to these matters at once. I have heard that -Tom is acting a little queer. It may be a lie or a joke--or a trick. I -want to find out--that's all." - -He would learn before he acted decisively. He stared at a pigeonhole in -his desk marked T. T. M. There he kept all letters Tom had written him -from boarding-school and from college. Presently he raised his head and -drew a deep breath. There was no need to worry until he knew. It would -be a waste of energy and of time; and, for all his millions, he could -not afford the waste. He rang a bell; and when a clerk appeared he said -in his calm, emotionless voice: - -"I'll see Governor Bolton the moment he comes in." - -There was a big battle on between capital and labor. He was in the thick -of it. He put Tom out of his mind for the time being. He could do that -at will; but he could not put Tom out of his heart--this little chap -that people called ruthless. - - - -V - -Tom Merriwether went to the box-office at the Metropolitan and said, -pleasantly, as men do when they ask for what they know will be given to -them: - -"I want the seat just back of G 77--orchestra--for to-night. I suppose -it will be H 77." - -The clerk, who knew the heir of the Merriwether millions, said, "I'll -see whether we have it, Mr. Merriwether." He saw. Then he said, with -sincere regret: "I'm very sorry. It's gone." - -"I must have it," said Tom, determinedly. - -"I don't quite see how I can help you, Mr. Merri-wether. I can give you -another just as--" - -"I don't want any other seat. Who bought it?" - -"I don't know. It may be a subscription seat, sold months ago." - -"It's the double seven on the seventh row that I am concerned about. I -want the seat just back of it." - -"I'll call up the ticket agencies. There's a bare chance they may have -it." After a few minutes he said, "I'm very sorry, Mr. Merriwether, but -I can't get it. They haven't it." - -"I'm willing to pay any price for H 77. I'll give you a hundred dollars -if you--" - -"Mr. Merriwether, I couldn't do it if you offered me a thousand! If I -could do it at all I'd be only too glad to do it for you--for nothing," -the clerk said, and blushed. - -Everybody liked Tom. - -The sincerity in the clerk's voice impressed young Mr. Merriwether, who -thanked him warmly and withdrew. The baffled feeling that he took away -with him from the ticket-window grew in intensity until he was ready to -fight. - -It was a natural-enough impulse that led him back to 777 Fifth Avenue; -but he was not quite sure whether he was angry at the man for telling -him to do what was obviously impossible or at himself for determining to -find her! - -He rang the bell of the house of mystery. The footman that answered was -one of the intelligent four; but his face was impassive, as though he -had never before seen Tom. - -"Your master?" asked Tom, abruptly. - -"Your card, please," said the footman, impassively. - -Tom gave it to him. The man disappeared, presently to return. - -"This way, sir." And at the door in the rear he paused and announced, -"Mr. Merriwether!" - -The master of the house was in his usual place. He bowed his head -gravely and waited. - -"I couldn't get the seat," said Tom, with a frown. - -"It is written, 'Vain are man's efforts!'" - -"That's all very well, my friend. But the next time--" - -"Fate deals with time--not with next time! There is no certainty of any -time but one. If you can do nothing I can do nothing. I still say, The -seat back of G 77 to-night." - -Tom Merriwether looked searchingly into the calm eyes before him. The -baffled feeling returned; also, a great curiosity. What would the end -be? At length he said, "Good day, sir." He half hoped the man would -volunteer some helpful remark. - -"Good day, sir," said the man, with cold politeness. - -Tom went back to the Opera House and asked for somebody in authority -to whom he might talk. They ushered him into Mr. Kirsch's presence. Mr. -Kirsch, amiable by birth, temperament, and training, listened to him -with much gravity; also, with a concern he tried to conceal, for it was -too sad--a bright, clean-living, intensely likable chap like Tom, only -heir to the Merriwether millions! - -Fearing a scene, he told Tom that he would speak to the ticket-takers in -the lobby to be on the lookout for ticket H 77. Then he conferred with -the emissary McWayne had sent, who thereupon was able to send in a most -alarming report. - -The private secretary softened it as much as he could, and even dared to -suggest to the chief that it might be a bet; but the little czar of -the Pacific & Southwestern, who had never flinched under any strain -or stress, grew visibly older as he heard that his son was offering -thousands for an opera-seat--for the seat back of the double seven, -seventh row. It could mean but one thing! - -Tom was so fortunate as to be standing beside the ticket-collector at -the middle door of the main entrance when the owner of H 77 appeared. He -was a fat man with a pink and shiny face, a close-cropped mustache, and -huge pearl studs. The fat man was fortunately alone. - -"Sir," said Tom, "I should like to speak a moment with you." - -The man looked apprehensive. Then he said, "What is it about?" - -"For very strong personal reasons I should like to exchange tickets with -you. I can give you G 126--every bit as good--on the other side of the -aisle." - -"Why should I change?" queried the shiny-faced man, suspiciously. - -"To oblige a very nice young lady and myself. Of course, if you prefer -to be paid--" - -"I don't need money." - -"Well, I'll pay you a hundred dollars for your ticket," said Tom, -coldly. - -The man shook his head from force of habit, in order that Tom might see -he was offering too little. Then he said, recklessly: - -"It's yours, my friend. I have a pet charity. I'll give your money to -it. Where's the hundred?" - -Tom took out a small roll of yellow bills, pulled off one, and handed it -to the man with the pet charity, who took it, looked at it, nodded, put -it in his pocket, gave the coupon to Tom, and then held out his right -hand. - -"Where is the ticket for G 120 that you'll give me in place of mine?" - -Tom gave it to him and walked into the house, not knowing that McWayne's -emissary had listened and reported. He sat in H 77 and tried to laugh -at his own absurd behavior; but somewhere within him--away in, very -deep--something was thrillingly alert, tantalizingly expectant. - -The seat before him was empty. It remained empty during the first act. -It angered Tom that the climax should be so long in coming. The three -seats in front of him remained vacant until just before the curtain went -up on the last act. Somebody came in just as the lights were lowered and -occupied seat G 77. - -Tom sat up and braced himself. He leaned over, vaguely desiring to be -near her. Unconscious that he was under a strain he, nevertheless, drew -a deep breath. - -Instantly there came to him the odor of sweet peas, and with it thoughts -of summer, of a beautiful girl, of a soul-mate, of a wife. Love filled -his being. He wished to love and be loved. He wished to be somebody's -husband, so that he might begin to live the life he was to live until -the day of his death! - -He leaned back in his chair and again inhaled the fragrance of sweet -peas--the odor that must mean kisses in the open; the inarticulate -love-making of breezes and blossoms; the multitudinous whispers of -midsummer nights heard by love-hungry ears. And then the music! There -came the breaking of a heart about to cease beating and the sobbing -crash of the brasses in the finale. It was almost more than Tom could -bear. - -Then the curtain fell and light flooded the house. People streamed out. -Tom twisted and turned to see the face of the lady who made him think -of the sweet peas, which made him think of love and marriage and -children--but she was wrapped to the cheeks in a fur-edged opera-cloak -and her head was covered with a black-lace wrap. He could not see her -face; and after rivulets of people reached the main stream in the middle -aisle he found himself hopelessly separated from her. He tried to jostle -his way through. McWayne, his father's private secretary, suddenly -happened to be there. - -"Hello, Tom!" he said. "What's your rush?" - -Tom saw that it was useless to pursue the phantom of sweet peas and -dreams of love unless he vaulted over the stalls. McWayne's presence -made him realize how his friends would be shocked by such actions. - -"No hurry at all," said Tom, who, after all, was a Merriwether. "Just -wanted to smoke and to see whether I knew that girl." - -"I'll bet she's a pippin!" said McWayne, with a friendly smile. It -irritated Tom. - -"I don't know any of your friends," said Tom, coldly; "lady friends and -pippins, fellows like you call them, I believe." - -That was what convinced McWayne that the worst was to be feared about -poor Tom, who was so considerate and amiable when normal. Poor Tom! -McWayne telephoned to the waiting E. H. Merriwether, whose only reply -was to ask the private secretary to arrange to have Dr. Frauenthal, -the great specialist, at breakfast in the Merriwether house the next -morning, without fail. - -It was a common occurrence for Dr. Frauenthal to meet--under false -pretenses, as it were--persons whose sanity was suspected by fond -relatives who dared not openly acknowledge their suspicions. He was a -man whose eyes had been compared to psychic corkscrews, with which he -brought the patient's secret thoughts to the light of day. Some one -said of him that, by inducing a feeling of guilt and detection among the -predatory rich, he was able to exact colossal fees from them. He was the -man who had made Ordway Blake give up making six millions a year in Wall -Street by quitting the game. Mr. Blake was still alive. - -Frauenthal was introduced to Tom as a gentleman whose advice "E. H." -desired. The men conversed on various topics apparently haphazard; but -in reality Tom, without knowing it, was answering test questions. The -answers could not conclusively prove insanity, but they would certainly -show whether a more thorough examination was necessary. - -Mr. Merriwether and Frauenthal left the house together. They entered the -waiting brougham. The great little railroad magnate gave the address of -the doctor's office to the footman, then turned to Frauenthal and said, -calmly: - -"Well, what do you think of him?" - -His voice was steady and cold; his face imperturbable; his eyes were -fixed with intelligent scrutiny on the specialist's, but his fingers -tightly clutched a rolled morning newspaper. - -Frauenthal turned his clinical stare on E. H. Merriwether, as though the -financier were really the patient. He swept the little man's face--the -eyes, the mouth, and the poise--and then let his eyes linger on the -clenched fingers about the newspaper. - -The iron-nerved, glacial-blooded, flint-hearted Merriwether could not -control himself after forty-five seconds of this. He flung the newspaper -on the floor violently. - -"Go ahead!" he said, harshly. - -The doctor did not smile outwardly; but you felt that within himself -he had found an answer to one of his own unspoken questions about the -father of the suspect. - -"There are, Mr. E. H. Merriwether," he began, in the measured tones -and overcareful enunciation of a lecturer at a clinic, "various -forms of--let us say--madness; and your son Tom, a fine young man of -twenty-eight, is quite unmistakably suffering from--" - -He paused to give the fine young man's emotionless father an opportunity -to show human feelings. Frauenthal was always interested in the struggle -between the emotional and the physical in his millionaire patients. - -"Go on!" said E. H. Merriwether, so very coldly as to irritate. - -His eyes never left the alienist's own secret-draggers; but he was -drumming on his thigh with the tips of his uncontrollable fingers. -Ordinarily his desk would have screened from sight this betrayal of -human feeling. - -"Your son, sir, is suffering, beyond any question, from the oldest -madness of all--love!" - -"What?" - -"Your son Tom is in love. That is what ails him." - -"Are you serious?" Mr. Merriwether was frowning fiercely now. - -"You'll think so," retorted Frauenthal, coldly, "when you get my bill." - -"My boy Tom in love?" repeated the czar, blankly. "Yes." - -"With whom?" - -"I don't know. I'm a neurologist--not a soothsayer." - -"Well, suppose he is in love--what of it?" - -"Nothing--to me." - -"Then what is serious about it?" - -"I can't tell you, for its seriousness to you depends on your point -of view toward society at large. There are, of course, the obvious -disquieting circumstances." - -"For instance?" - -"He is a fine chap--healthy, bright, honest. What is the reason he has -said nothing to you? Is he ashamed or afraid? If he is ashamed it is -very serious to both of you. If he is afraid--well, then the seriousness -depends on how intelligent a father you have been to him." - -"Don't talk like a damned fool! I've been a good father to him; of -course--" - -"Wait! Wait! First tell me why you do what you ask me not to do?" In the -specialist's eyes was a sort of professional curiosity. - -"What do you mean?" said E. H. Merriwether, impatiently. It exasperated -him to be puzzled. - -"Why do you talk like a damned fool?" said Frauenthal. - -Nobody ever talked that way to Mr. E. H. Merriwether, overlord of the -greatest railroad empire in history. He flushed and was about to retort -angrily, but controlled himself in time. The brougham had reached -Frauenthal's office. Mr. Merriwether spoke too calmly--you could feel -the tense restraint: - -"Dr. Frauenthal, I've heard a great deal of your wonderful ability." - -He paused. It came hard to him to be ingratiating. This difficulty -is the revenge which nature takes on people who acquire the habit of -'paying money for everything in this world. Such men cannot talk except -with a check-book, and the check-book loses the power of speech before -happiness--and before death. - -"What very difficult thing is it you wish me to do for you?" asked -Frauenthal, coldly. - -"You are sure Tom is not--" He hesitated. - -"Crazy?" prompted the specialist. - -"Yes." - -"Yes; I'm sure he is not. Therefore he is saner than you who are a -money-maker." - -Mr. Merriwether let this remark pass. He was anxious to save Tom. This -man was uncannily sharp. He said, "And can't you do something, so that -Tom will not--" - -"I am not God!" interrupted Frauenthal. - -"Then, what can I do? What do you suggest might be done?" - -"As a neurologist?" - -"Yes." - -"Nothing." - -"Then, as a man of the world--as one who knows human nature? You see, -this--this--er--sort of thing is not in my line. What shall I do?" It -was a terrible thing for the great Merriwether to confess inefficiency -in anything. - -"Pray!" - -The little magnate flushed. "Dr. Frauenthal," he began, with chilling -dignity, "I asked--" - -"And I answered. Have your millions deafened you? Pray! Pray to -whatever other god you may have that the lady prove to be neither a -prima donna nor a novelist. A temperamental daughter-in-law is really -worse than you deserve, for all the money they say you have made. There -are check-book gods and stock-ticker gods; and there is also God. I'd -pray to Him if I were you. Good day, sir!" - -The footman had opened the door, and the great specialist, without -another look at the railroad man, got out and walked into his house. - -"Where to, sir?" asked the footman. - -Mr. Merriwether, however, was vexed to think that in relieving his -anxiety over Tom's sanity Frauenthal had replaced it with a dread -question--Why had not Tom told his father about her? The boy must be -either crazy or in love. If he was not crazy, who in blazes was she? -What was she? Why was she? All this angered him. He muttered aloud: -"Hell!" - -"Yes, sir--very good, sir," said the footman, from force of habit. Then -he trembled; but his master had not heard him.' The footman breathed -deeply and said, tremulously, "B-beg p-pardon, sir?" - -"Nearest Subway station!" said E. H. Merriwether. . - -He was in a hurry to reach his office, not because he had important -business to transact there, but because somehow he always thought best -in his own chair before his own desk in his own office. There he was -an autocrat, and there he could think autocratically and issue commands -that were obeyed. He had much thinking to do--Tom was concerned, his -son Tom; and Tom's future. And it was now clear that T. T. Merriwether's -future was also the future of E. H. Merriwether! - -Why had this thing come on him? Talk about your thunderbolts out of -a clear sky--this love-affair was a million times worse! It was -mysterious--and it is well known in Wall Street that a mystery is worse -than nitroglycerine--infinitely more dangerous. - -What was this love-affair? How far had it gone? Just where was the -dynamite stored? Who was she? Why did not Tom say something? Why could -not Tom have fallen in love safely? Why could he not have married a good -girl who would help him and help E. H. Merriwether help both by minding -her own business--to wit, a few little male Merriwethers? - -It was time Tom became his father's successor-to-be. E. H. Merriwether -had loved to do his own work his own way all his life. It was his -pleasure. But the work suddenly took on an aspect of far -greater importance than the worker. The work was the work of the -Merriwethers--not of one Merriwether; not even of the great E. H., but -of all the Merriwethers, living and to be. - -Tom must be trained not only to be the son of a Merriwether, but to be -himself a Merriwether. And therefore E. H. must cease to be a railroad -expert toward Tom; he must become Tom's father, the trainer of a -successor--flesh and blood the same; the fortune the same. - -And, as a sense of impending loss always heightens values, E. H. -Merriwether suddenly realized how important to him and to his happiness -Tom was. He loved Tom, who was not only his only son, but the only -Merriwether. That told everything: He loved Tom. - - - -VI - -After his father and Dr. Frauenthal left the house Tom tried to feel -that he had finished his breakfast--that is to say, he attempted to read -the newspapers. But the printed letters failed to combine themselves -into intelligible forms, and even when he read a word here and there his -mind did not record it. Obeying an unexplained impulse, he rose. - -Then he sat down merely because he had been standing. Then he tried to -reason why he was sitting and what sitting there thinking of himself in -that particular position meant. But the sky was too blue! It called to -him in an azure voice that made him long for the sunshine and the open -air, and the rooflessness of outdoors that permits ten million fancies -to soar unchecked. - -Also, he longed for something; and, though he knew that he longed, he -did not know exactly what it was he longed for, because it was not his -mind that desired it, but all of him; and all of him did not think with -precision. Young men are apt to feel like that in the springtime--also -young women. Also widowers and relicts and canaries and heifers and -burros--and even bankers! - -Therefore Tom swore at that nothing which is always something and gave -up trying to make himself think that he wanted to read the morning -papers. His nervous system coined a proverb for him: "When in doubt, -walk out!" So he walked out of the house and crossed the Avenue. - -He found himself in Central Park--the remedy which the very rich do not -and the very poor cannot use to cure the spring in the blood. And as he -walked the soul-fidgets left him, so that after a mile or two he quite -cold-bloodedly began to think of his most pressing duties. He went about -them systematically. - -The first thing he had to do was some shopping; shopping on Fifth -Avenue--on Fifth Avenue where the jewelry-shops were; in the -jewelry-shops where the wedding-presents were. There! He was off again. -Everybody was getting married! What business had people to make people -think of wives--yes, wives--plural; lots of wives; all beautiful, all -desirable and worthy; all lovely and loving and lovable; and all fit to -be rolled into one--Tom's? - -It was not polygamy. It was merely composite photography. The one -he desired had a little of each of the girls he admired. She was the -amorous crazy-quilt that youth is so apt to dazzle itself with in the -springtime--a nose from a friend; two lips from a stranger; a complexion -from a distant relative; a pair of eyes from the sky; a heart from the -heart of the sun--and lo! the wife-to-be! - -And so the wedding-presents--a silver service, to be used by two -sitting on opposite sides of a table, looking into each other's eyes; -a glittering string, to be admired on a wonderful throat--were heavy -enough to keep Tom's soul from soaring. And because his feet were on the -pavement he soon found himself--of course!--before 777 Fifth Avenue. - -Why should he not go to that house? And why should he not ring the bell? -Why not? He was just in the mood to meet her! - -His intentions were above suspicion, though marriage is a serious thing; -but, really, now was the time for the adventure to appear--even if the -adventure turned out to be merely the adventuress. - -Therefore, with the inexorable logic of the most illogical state of mind -known, he rang the bell and waited with an eagerness--half hope, half -curiosity--most unusual among people who, like Tom, early acquire the -habit of asking, check-book in hand, for whatever they wish. - -The footman who answered was one of the men with the over-intelligent -faces. - -"I am Mr. Merriwether. I wish to see your master." - -Tom's voice rang a trifle more commandingly than the occasion appeared -to call for. There was a physiological reason for it. The man hesitated -so that Tom wondered; but presently all expression vanished from the -non-menial face and the footman said: - -"This way, if you please, sir." - -He preceded Tom to the door of his master's library. He rapped twice -smartly and waited in an attitude of listening. Tom also listened -intently; he could not have told why he did it--though it was, of -course, inevitable. - -Not a sound was heard. The over-intelligent footman's lips moved for all -the world as though he were counting, and presently he opened the door -and announced: - -"Mr. Thomas Thorne Merriwether--7-7-7 7." - -Tom entered. The master of this strange house was seated at the -over-elaborate library table, writing. He looked up, but before Tom -could speak the man said, coldly: - -"I cannot do anything for you, sir." - -It was so much like a refusal to give alms to a beggar that Tom flushed -angrily. He managed to check a sharp retort on the very brink and, -instead, began in a mildly ironical tone: - -"Of course you know what I--" - -"Of course!" interrupted the man, rudely; and he began impatiently to -drum on the edge of the table with his penholder. "Do you imagine for a -minute that you are the only mateless male in New York looking for his -destined bride? And do you really think that the fruitlessness--until -now--of your search is a world-tragedy? Because your name happens to -be Thomas--which is a descriptive title when applied to marriageable -felines of your own sex--do you fancy I am concerned with your affairs? -Young man, you are the only son and heir of a very rich man; but there -are some things that money cannot buy. Love is one of them." - -He frowned at Tom, but something in the young millionaire's face made -him relent. He went on, more kindly, more encouragingly: - -"My boy, she is seeking you, even as you are seeking her. She is very -beautiful! You will meet her at the appointed hour--have no doubt of it. -After your perfectly stupid failure at the opera--Wait!" He held up a -hand as Tom was about to speak in self-defense. "The very futility of -your manoeuvers shows that youth, brains, money, persistence, and desire -are all powerless to hurry fate. As you, who have never seen her, love -her, she loves you, though she has never seen you. She will know you as -you will know her; but she is gone!" - -"Where?" Tom spoke before he knew it. - -"Be patient! After you meet her you will live with her until death parts -you." - -He said this, without theatrical emphasis, in a most matter-of-fact way. -Tom's suspicions, always present in this house of mystification rather -than of mystery, were not made livelier by the man's words; but neither -were they allayed by the tone of his voice. He hesitated, and then, -adventure whispering, he said: - -"To be perfectly frank, I am interested in this--" - -"Young man, I told you before that I ask nothing of you--no favor, no -money, no service; not even your interest. When I asked you to do a -certain thing you did it. I am not particularly grateful. You could not -have refused! Possibly you can explain to your own satisfaction your -own inexplicable acquiescence; you doubtless have evolved a dozen most -ingenious theories to account for your doings and mine. The shortest -and easiest explanation is the true one--fate. After you marry you will -compare notes with her--and yet you will not understand why I concerned -myself with your lives. You will perplex yourselves so unnecessarily; -all because of your unwillingness to say, fate! Men hate fate as a -hypothesis. It is not flattering to admit that we are but puppets--the -strongest of us no stronger than an autumn leaf in the wind. And because -you do not see fate you do not believe in it. And, for fear of being -considered an ass by a lot of asses, who also do not believe in fate, -you will never tell any one your romantic story. And yet, of the scores -you call friends, there are only seven men who are happily married. And -those seven I helped, as I have helped you and as I shall help those I -am ordered to help. Even now the Dispeller of Darkness is out, making -one heart send a message in the dark to another heart waiting for it!" - -"Do you mean to say you cannot or will not arrange for my meeting the -mysterious person you tell me I am going to marry?" - -"I mean to say that your coming to this house with such a hope merely -means a waste of your time, young sir, and of mine. You will meet your -love, but you cannot find her. No man finds happiness by means of a -systematic or diligent search. It comes or it does not come--as God -wills." - -The man rose. Tom also rose and said: - -"But at least tell me where this--this alleged fate of mine is." - -The man shook his head with a smile that was in the nature of a mild -sneer. - -"Doubting Thomas! He won't admit it, but he can't deny it! Ah, so wise! -So clever in his suspicions! So intelligently skeptical! Ah yes!" - -Still nodding in ironical admiration, he approached the filing-cabinet. - -"Let me see--you are 7-7-77." He pulled out drawer seven in section -seven and took out an envelope from which he drew a lot of papers. He -read a typewritten sheet. He replaced the papers, closed the drawer, -turned, and stared doubtfully at Tom, muttering half to himself: "I -don't know! I don't know!" - -"What?" asked Tom. - -"Do you really want her? Do you feel that you must meet her soon or -die?" - -Tom knew he would not die if he did not meet her soon, but as for -wanting her, he certainly did. Every cell in his body was on the alert, -waiting for her, hoping to see her; and adventure, through a megaphone, -was vociferating in the middle of his soul: "Come! Come!" Therefore Tom -looked the man straight in the eyes and answered: - -"Yes, I do!" - -The man hesitated. Then he said: - -"Listen! It is for the last time. Do you hear? For the last time! Do you -agree?" - -He looked sternly at Tom, who thereupon answered, impatiently: - -"Yes! Yes!" - -"Boston! Hotel Lorraine! Secure Room 77, seventh floor. On Thursday -at exactly 7 p.m. be in the southeast corner of the library or -reading-room, which is on the left of the hall as you go to the main -dining-room. Green arm-chair. Hold your hat between your knees--bottom -side upward. Close your eyes. A letter will be dropped into the hat. -Then do as you please. Personally I don't think it will help or hinder. -But you are young; and perhaps if you wish hard enough it may happen -according to your desire. Good day!" - -The man turned his back squarely on Tom, leaving to the heir of the -Merriwether millions no alternative but to go out dissatisfied, excited, -skeptical, hopeful, and determined to go to Boston--danger or no danger, -swindle or no swindle. - -The mysterious man, too mysterious to be anything but a charlatan, -who said he did not wish Tom's money and, for that reason, probably -did--this man promised Tom he should meet a girl--a beautiful girl, the -girl he would marry. If there was to be no compulsion about it; if they, -the man and his accomplices, counted on her charms to capture Tom's -heart and hand--why, the sooner she began the attack, the better. Also, -it was one of those things that only an ass would talk about, since the -telling would put an end to all doubts as to the teller's asininity. - -Therefore, without saying a word to anybody, Tom went to Boston, not -knowing that McWayne's detectives had orders to follow Tom wherever -he went and to report in detail what he was seen to do and what he was -heard to say and to whom. - -Tom arrived in Boston, went to the Hotel Lorraine, registered, and asked -the polite room clerk for Room 77 on the seventh floor. The clerk smiled -pleasantly, as he always did whenever a guest-to-be asked for rooms that -did not end in thirteen, disappeared to look at the index, and returned. - -"I'm sorry, sir, but that room is taken. I can give you--" - -"Taken!" said Tom, in such a disappointed tone that the clerk deigned to -explain sympathetically: "Engaged by telegraph." - -"Who engaged it?" - -Tom asked this so peremptorily that the clerk looked at him icily with -raised eyebrows, turned his back on the New-Yorker, made a pretense of -once more looking at the index of rooms and guests, and said to him with -a cold determination in his voice: "I made a mistake. I thought we had a -vacant room on the eighth floor. I find we have no vacant room anywhere. -I'm sorry, sir. Nothing left." - -He marked something after Tom's name on the register and turned away. He -evidently considered the incident closed. - -Tom was too surprised to be angry. Then he recovered himself. His -business in Boston was to get a certain room in this hotel. He was a son -of his father; so he said, with a quiet determination that disturbed the -clerk: - -"I must have Room 77 on the seventh floor! The price is of no -consequence. I am Mr. Merriwether." - -"I told you it was engaged." - -"And I told you I must have it. Don't you understand English?" - -"Don't you?" said the clerk, trying to disguise his growing uneasiness -with a sneer. - -This made Tom calm. He said, quietly: - -"Will you be good enough to send my card to Mr. Starrett, the owner of -this hotel? He knows who I am and who my father is; but if he should -have forgotten, say that he is to call up Major Wilkinson, of Pierce, -Wilkinson & Company, the bankers, or Mr. Blandy, of the Moontucket -National Bank, or anybody who knows where New York is on the map. Good -heavens! there must be somebody in Boston who hasn't been asleep for the -last twenty years!" The clerk decided to be polite. The name Merriwether -had a familiar sound, but he could not associate it. He said, more -politely: - -"I am sorry, Mr. Merriwether, but the room you want--and three others -with it--have been engaged." - -"By whom?" - -"You are asking me to break one of our rules." - -"Well, can you tell me whether it has been engaged since yesterday?" - -"Oh, longer than that!" He disappeared, consulted a book, and came back -with the triumphant expression human beings put on when they do not wish -to say "I told you so," aloud, "Engaged and paid for since the eighth, -Mr. Merriwether. That's nine days ago. So, you see, we can't do what you -ask us to. Sorry!" - -Wherever he went, Tom thought he was confronted by crude attempts at -mystery. To send him to this particular room, 77 on the seventh floor, -was merely the same as an effort to impress children by using the -magical number seven. - -Who had engaged the room? Was it an accomplice or some stranger -guiltless of participation in the rather juvenile joke? - -Still, Tom was in Boston to do a particular thing; and, though much -of the spring restlessness had gone from his veins, there remained the -desire to see the affair through to the end, whether the end should be a -smile or a mild oath. Therefore, after a pause, Tom said to the clerk: - -"Can you give me the room exactly opposite 77 on the seventh floor?" - -The clerk hesitated, then said: - -"Just a minute, please." - -He consulted one of the bookkeepers, from whom he must have learned -whose son Tom was. And, though Boston is not New York, money is money, -even in Massachusetts; and the heir to fifty or a hundred million -dollars is something, whether or not he is somebody. - -"Certainly," said the clerk, and handed the key to a young man called, -in New York, a bell-boy. The young man now preceded Tom to the seventh -floor and ushered the New-Yorker into Room 78. - -Tom gave the studious youth a dollar and never noticed that the boy -regarded the bill with a mixture of suspicion and alarm, put it gingerly -into his pocket, and left the room, closing the door. Tom opened the -door. The boy thought it had opened itself and returned to close it. Tom -waved him away. The boy hastily retreated. He did not, however, throw -away the dollar. He had discovered it was not "phony." - -The bell-boy found the room clerk engaged in conversation with two men. -He, divining that the talk concerned the generous lunatic, flung at -the room clerk that look of exaggerated perplexity which will cause any -normal human being inevitably to ask: "What is it?" - -The room clerk saw the look and still kept on talking with the men; -whereupon the bell-boy walked up to the desk, frowned fiercely, and -muttered, "He is in his room!" - -"What's that, boy?" - -"I said," retorted the studious youth, glacially, "he was in his -room--78. He gave me a dollar and left the door open. I tried to close -it, but he opened it again--after he gave me the dollar." - -The clerk, awe in his face, turned to the men and nodded confirmatively. - -"Your man!" he said. "Of course we don't want any fuss--" - -"We'll telephone Mr. McWayne, the private secretary. The young fellow -isn't violent, you know." - -The hotel clerk said the inevitable thing: - -"Only son, too--isn't he?" - -"Yes. Over a hundred million dollars, I've heard." The detective, -induced thereto by the invitation in the clerk's voice, had vouchsafed -inside information. - -"Too bad!" murmured the clerk, thinking of the hundred million and Tom. -"Too damned bad!" he almost whimpered, thinking of the hundred million -and himself. To show that he was unimpressed by vast wealth he added, -sternly, "No trouble, you understand!" - -One of the men whom McWayne had instructed to shadow Tom sat in the -lobby just in front of the elevator. The other, with the clerk's -permission, went up to the seventh floor and sat down by the floor -telephone operator. From there he could keep a ten-dollar-a-day eye on -Room 78. - -Meantime Tom's impatience had reached such a point that he could not sit -still. Through his open door he could see the closed door of Room 77. -The thought came to him to see who was in that room. Then it struck him -that perhaps the mysterious man in New York had reckoned precisely -on rousing the Merriwether curiosity. Perhaps an unpleasant surprise -awaited the man who should enter Room 77. Perhaps the room was occupied -by some one who had nothing to do with her--and therefore nothing to -do with him. Perhaps he should put himself in a ridiculous predicament. -Perhaps a million disagreeable things might happen, making it obviously -the unwise thing to do to go into Room 77. - -All these reflections, however, weighed no more than a shadow with -him. The more he thought of why he should not go into Room 77 the more -difficult it became to resist the call of adventure. He walked across -the hall and knocked sharply on the door. No answer came. He knocked -again. A hotel maid approached him. - -"I beg your pardon, sir. Are you in the party?" - -"What party?" - -"In Room 77." - -"No. I am in 78." - -"I am very sorry--but it is against the rules of the house, sir." - -Tom had nothing to say to the maid; so he closed the door of his own -room, conscious that his actions must appear erratic, but not much -concerned over it. Presently he went out for a walk and did not go to -either of his Boston clubs. This omission was duly noted by the clever -Mr. McWayne's star sleuths. - -Tom returned to the hotel, feeling almost cured. He realized that he had -come on a fool's errand; and yet there was something that told him it -was not a fool's errand. It was too elaborate for a practical joke. So -long as no motive was apparent the mystery remained a mystery; and no -mystery is laughable--at least, not while in the act of mystifying. - -So he decided for the tenth time to go through with his part, absurd or -not. He walked about the lobby, utterly unconscious that he was a marked -man. He could not see that the clerks and the bellboys and the two -men from the New York agency followed his movements, not only with the -liveliest curiosity, but with deep pity. - -All he was doing was to wait more or less impatiently for seven o'clock; -but impatience is so natural a feeling, and comes so easily to most -human beings, that it always rouses suspicion. Tom did not "act right" -to the watchers. Any perfectly sane and intelligent man, accused -of being mad, will confirm the accusation if he is watched for five -minutes. People who never think and never imagine are never taken for -lunatics. That nowadays is about the only compensation for being an ass. - -At 6.56 p.m. he walked into the hotel library and found that the -green-plush arm-chair in the corner by the window was occupied by an -elderly woman. It annoyed him because he desired to sit in that chair at -exactly seven o'clock. Absurd or not, the problem became how to get rid -of the old woman quickly and without disturbing the peace or alarming -the office. - -His mind worked logically enough for a man under observation for -insanity, and his sense of humor acted as a safety-valve for his -inventiveness. He merely drew his chair very close to the startled old -lady and opened a magazine. He found a poem and began to read it in the -exasperating undertone used by the demons who have the next seats to -yours at the opera. - -Presently he began to drum on his thigh with the tips of his fingers, -and at regular intervals of ten seconds he thumped it with his clenched -fist bass-drumwise. Every twenty-five seconds he pulled out his watch, -looked at it, exclaimed, "Gracious!"--and blew his nose loudly and -determinedly. - -Within two and three-quarter minutes the old lady glared at him, rose, -looked at the clock, glared again at him to make sure, and left the -room. In the hall she stopped and spoke to the young lady who checked -hats and coats near the entrance of the main dining-room. - -"I had to leave the reading-room. A perfectly horrible person came in! -He simply drove me out." - -"Yes, madam. He is insane. It is a very sad case." - -"Goodness! What a narrow--". - -"Oh, he is quite harmless, madam." - -"It's a wonder a first-class hotel, like this claims to be, allows--" - -"You are right!" agreed the wise young woman, whose business was to -encourage generosity. - -The old lady went away, muttering. Thomas Thome Merriwether sat down -in the vacated chair, put his hat between his knees, and waited. The -mahogany clock on the mantel presently began to chime the hour and Tom -felt a pang of angry disappointment. Nothing had happened--except that -he again had made an ass of himself! - -A tall, strongly built man at that moment entered the room, looked at -Tom, saw the hat held between the knees, and turned away as if the last -person in the world he wished to see was young Mr. Merriwether. - -Tom saw him stretch his hand toward a panel in the wall. Instantly the -room was in darkness. It occurred to Tom that this would be a good way -to attack him; but there instantly followed the reflection that it was -not a good place in which to do any robbing or murdering. - -Therefore young Merriwether sat on quietly. He felt something drop into -his hat. A faint odor of sweet peas came to his nostrils--the odor he -had associated with his youth until he began to associate it with her, -and therefore with love. - -This evanescent perfume that made vague memories stir within him--that -made him desire to see the woman who was to be his wife--that made -him thrill obediently at the call of adventure--made him feel that the -mysterious man of 777 Fifth Avenue was not a cheap charlatan. - -Suddenly the light was turned on again. Tom saw a slip of paper within -his hat, fished it out, and, without stopping to see what it was or what -it said, rushed from the room into the corridor. - -He saw men and women coming and going. He could not tell whether she was -among them or whether the man who had entered the library--who probably -was the man that put out the light--was among the crowd. But the sleuths -and the bell-boy and the coat-girl watched him. What doubt could remain? -In their minds there was none. - -Tom abandoned the chase. The key to the mystery eluded him, as usual. He -was not clever enough to catch the mystery-manipulator in the act, as it -were. He looked at the paper. It was an envelope. On it was written in a -woman's hand: - -_For T. M._ - -He opened the envelope and pulled out a sheet of the hotel note-paper, -on which he read, in the same handwriting: - -_Too late!_ - -He walked to the desk and spoke to the room clerk. - -"I must--" he began, but stopped. - -"Yes, sir, Mr. Merriwether!" The clerk used the voice and manner of a -man saying nice things to a child in order to propitiate its mother. - -"About Room 77 on the seventh floor," said Tom. - -"We can give it to you now, if you wish. Yes, sir." - -"What? Has she--Is it vacant?" - -"Given up this very minute. If you'll wait until we send up and see -whether it is ready to be occupied, I'll--" - -"I'll take it; but I'd like to go up at once." - -He wished to see whether there was any clue left by the previous -occupants. - -"Certainly. Front!" - -Tom followed the bell-boy. The room was empty and undisturbed. He -thought he smelled sweet peas and sat down in an arm-chair to think; but -the odor, which made her recognizable in his dreams of her, prevented -him from thinking as you would expect a healthy young man to think. -There was no sharpness of outline in the visions of her seen through the -mist of dreams and longings. - -He knew there was a girl somewhere whom he would marry. Indeed, he often -had wondered what his wife would be like. Every man, when he endeavors -to look ahead, thinks that some day he shall have a wife--the mother -of his children--the woman whose mere existence will influence his -life more than anything else in the world; whose love will make him a -different man; whose necessities will give to him an utterly different -point of view. - -Our lives depend on our point of view; and Tom knew that his point of -view would be utterly changed by this girl he had never seen. Would she -be the girl the man in 777 Fifth Avenue said she would be? Was she the -mysterious person with whom, of course, he was not in love, but with -whom he might fall in love--adventuress or not? His love of love had -not yet changed into love of somebody; but he was keen to enter into a -definite love-affair with a concrete being, and he rather suspected that -this affair was being stage-managed for his benefit. - -He would forgive everything so long as in the end something -happened--something in which there was a girl, whether or not she was -the girl. What most irritated him was the indefiniteness of the mystery -so far. The spice of danger; the tragical possibilities; the lure of -adventure; the call of the unusual; the attraction of the unknown and -therefore of the interesting--were no longer quite enough. The glimpse -of a face--of a living face--and a hand to shake, a waist to clasp and -lips to kiss--these things he now desired. - -His irritability over his failure to develop an adventure in Boston grew -keener until it became anger. He would have it out once for all with the -mysterious man at 777 Fifth Avenue. - -He went down-stairs, paid his bill, and took the midnight train for New -York. - - - -VII - -Some men are so picturesque that they do not need publicity agents, and -so intelligent that they wish to be let alone by the public prints. -E. H. Merriwether was one. He employed the ablest experts for his -corporations and they got more than their share of publicity; but for -himself--nothing. Possibly he realized that ungratified curiosity is a -valuable asset; and, of course, he knew that in a democracy the less a -man raises his head above the level of the mass the better it will be -for his comfort. - -He took pains to make it plain that he cared only for his work, because -that proved he had no thoughts for mere money-making; and, since he was -not interested in money-making, he could not be primarily concerned -with despoiling the public--which, in turn, clearly proved he was not -dangerous. And, of course, the more he kept himself out of the papers -the more the papers wanted to see him in their hospitable columns. -Everything he did or thought was, therefore, news. Anecdotes about -him were so hard to get that the brightest minds in the profession -manufactured a few. They had to be very good anecdotes--and they were. - -To the metropolitan reporters, however, E. H. Merriwether was known -to be mute, dumb, silent, constitutionally incapable of speech, -and, besides, devoid of vocal cords. His office was always free from -reporters, because they had learned to save themselves time by the -simple expedient of writing their interviews with him in their own -offices, after this fashion: - -_Mr. Merriwether refused to discuss the matter. Neither confirmation nor -denial could be obtained at his office._ - -The financial editors of the newspapers fared no better. He was never -too busy to see them; but all news about his work came from his bankers. - -On the same day that Tom went to Boston, a young man went to the -Merriwether offices in the Transcontinental Trust Company Building. A -stout, rather high railing fenced off the bookkeepers' room from the -general and unwelcome public. - -At a small, flat desk near the gate sat, not a frecklefaced boy, but a -man, powerful of build, keen-eyed and quick-muscled. He, was writing a -letter on a very good quality of note-paper. He said: "Well?"--but kept -on writing. He did not look up. This always discouraged strangers; by -making them feel their utter insignificance. The effect on millionaire -magnates, who similarly found themselves ignored, also was salutary. - -"I wish to see Mr. E. H. Merriwether," said the young man, pleasantly -and unimpressed. - -The gate-keeper wrote two paragraphs and then, still writing, asked, -wearily: - -"Got an appointment?" - -"No; but--" - -The over-mature office-boy, in one breath and in a voice that dripped -insolence, said, still without looking up: - -"What do you want to see him about? He is very busy. Cannot possibly see -any one to-day. Good day!" - -There was a laugh, not at all ironical, or in the nature of an -exaggerated and audible sneer, but full of amusement; and then the -stranger without the gate said: - -"When I tell you what I am you will bring Mr. E. H. Merriwether to me." - -The voice was not menacing at all or cold, but there was an assurance -about it that made the Merriwether hireling look up. He saw a young -man, of about thirty, with very intelligent, gray-blue eyes, a straight, -well-modeled nose, and a determined chin. His square shoulders and -general air of muscular strength made him look as if he could give as -good an account of himself in a rough-and-tumble fight as in a battle of -wits. - -The Merriwether gateman felt his entire being permeated by a feeling of -hostility. This was neither a crank to turn over to a complaisant police -nor an alms-seeker to be shooed away; nor yet a millionaire in good -standing. He must be, therefore, a reporter of the new school made -possible by the eccentricities of the Administration in Washington. - -"My good James," said the new-school reporter, with a mocking -superciliousness, "I would see your boss. Be expeditious." - -The gate-keeper, whose name was not James but Doyle, flushed -dangerously; but his wages were high, and he forced himself to keep his -temper under control. For all that, his voice shook as he said: - -"If you have no appointment, you ought to know it's no use. No stranger -from a newspaper ever sees Mr. Merriwether. I--I'm sorry!" Here Doyle -gulped. Then he finished: "Good day!"--and resumed, his writing. - -The reporter said, "Look at me!" so sharply that Doyle in a flash pushed -back his chair, jumped to his feet, and looked pugnaciously at the man -who dared to give commands in E. H. Merriwether's office. - -"My Celtic friend," pursued the reporter, in a voice of such -cold-blooded vindictiveness that Doyle listened with both astonishment -and respect, "for years the domestics of this office have been rude -and impolite to my profession. Mr. Merriwether never cared how angry -reporters might feel or what they said about him; but to-day I am the -one who does not care, and E. H. Merriwether is the man who is vitally -concerned. _I_ don't give a damn whether he sees me or not. And as -for you, in order to avenge the poor chaps to whom you have been -intelligently rude, I, to whom you have been unintelligently impolite, -shall have you fired. I've got E. H. Merriwether where I want him. If I -can end your boss I can end your job--can't I? Oh no, Alexander! I am -not crazy. I simply have the power. It was bound to happen, for Waterloo -comes to all great men who are not clever enough to die at the right -time. Now you go and get McWayne--and be quick about it!" - -Doyle at times saw things through the top of his head, which was red. He -said, a bit thickly: - -"When you tell me in plain English, so I can understand--" - -"You are not paid to understand; you are paid to use common sense and -discrimination. You go to McWayne and say to him a reporter is here and -wishes to speak to him about a sad Merriwether family matter." - -Doyle knew from the office gossip that something was supposed to be -wrong with Tom Merriwether; so, his heart overflowing with anger because -chance had put the one weapon in the hands of an insolent newspaper man, -Doyle went off to tell the boss's private secretary. Presently McWayne, -walking quickly, came from an inner office, and asked: "You wish to see -me?" - -"No!" answered the reporter, flatly. - -"Then--" began McWayne. - -"I don't wish to see you. I wish to see if you have the sense to -understand that I wish to do Mr. E. H. Merriwether the favor of letting -him talk to me. Do you want me to tell you what I want you to tell Mr. -E. H. Merriwether?" - -The reporter looked as though he hoped McWayne would say no. Reporters -did not usually look that way; therefore McWayne was perturbed. He -replied, with a polite anxiety: - -"If you please--" - -"Tell Mr. Merriwether that I wish to see him about his son's marriage. -Tell him that if he does not wish to talk about it, he needn't. You -might add that there is absolutely no use in his trying to keep it out -of the newspapers. Make that plain to him, McWayne." - -McWayne did not dare deny the marriage. Tom was, alas! capable of even -worse things. He did the only thing possible while there was still a -chance to suppress the news; he said: - -"And you represent which paper, please?" - -Reporters do not always know why or how news is suppressed, nor the -price; but this reporter laughed good-naturedly, and replied: - -"McWayne, the trouble with you Irish is that you are so infernally -clever that plain jackasses like myself are prepared for you. I -represent myself and I don't want to be paid to suppress. No blackmail -here; no threats; nothing except amiability and good-will. Have you -begun to accumulate a few suspicions that your taciturn boss is going to -talk to me?" - -"I'll see!" promised McWayne, non-committally; but he was so perturbed -that he could not help showing it. - -Doyle, who had made a pretense of resuming his letter-writing, noticed -it, and felt uncomfortable. - -"And--say, McWayne," pursued the reporter, "could you let a fellow have -a photograph or two? You know we've got some, but we'd prefer to publish -those you think the family consider the best. Some people are queer that -way." - -McWayne shook his head and went away, convinced of the worst. He -returned and beckoned to the reporter, who thereupon said, sharply, to -Doyle: - -"Open the door--you! Quick!" And Doyle, who saw McWayne beckoning, had -to do it. - -Four hundred and seventeen reporters were avenged! - -Doyle was so angry that he was full of aches. He was tempted to throw -up his job. Then he hoped E. H. Merriwether, who was a very great man, -would order him to throw the insolent dog out of the office. Doyle would -earn a bonus. - -E. H. Merriwether, autocrat of fifteen thousand miles of railroad, -fearless fighter, iron-nerved stock gambler, but, alas! also a father, -was seated at his desk. He turned to the reporter the inscrutable -poker-face of his class: - -"You wished to see me?" - -"Yes, sir," said the reporter, and waited; two could play at that game. -The great financier was compelled to ask: - -"About what?" - -"About what McWayne told you." The reporter spoke unemotionally. - -"About some rumor concerning my son?" - -"No, sir." - -"No?" E. H. Merriwether looked surprised. - -"No. I wished to know what statement you desire to make about your son's -engagement and marriage. If you do not care to say anything we shall not -publish any fake interview, no matter what opinion I personally may form -as to the real state of your feelings." - -"I take it you are from one of the yellow papers, young man?" E. H. -Merriwether spoke coldly; but, within, his heart-tragedy was being -enacted. - -"You usually take what you wish if it isn't nailed down, I have heard; -but that, doubtless, is one of the slanders that automatically grow -up about a great man, sir," said the reporter, without the shadow of a -smile or frown. - -"If I am mistaken about the newspaper you represent--" Here Mr. -Merriwether paused, as if to allow the young man to introduce himself; -but the young man said: - -"If I told you the name of the newspaper that honors itself by playing -fair with you, I suspect you would set in motion the machinery that -you--er--men of large affairs use to suppress news. You couldn't -reach my city editor, who is a poor man with a family of eight, or the -reporter, who is penniless; but you could reach the owner, who is a -millionaire. This is my first big story in New York and it will make me -professionally. It means a lot to me!" - -"About how much does it mean to you, young man?" asked E. H. -Merriwether, with a particularly polite curiosity. - -"Speaking in language that should be intelligible to you and using the -terms by which you measure' all things down here--" He paused, and then -said, bluntly, "You mean in cash, don't you?" - -"Yes." - -"Well, I should say, Mr. Merriwether, that this story is worth to -me--Let me see!" And he began to count on his fingers, like a woman. -This habit inexpressibly angers men who find no trouble in remembering -numbers of dollars. "I should say, Mr. Merriwether, that it is worth -about three thousand two hundred and eighty-six--millions of dollars. If -I am to stop being a decent newspaper man to become a blackmailer and -general damned fool I'd want to make enough to endow all my pet -charities and carry out a series of rather expensive experiments in -philanthropy." - -"But--" began the magnate. - -"No, sir," interrupted the reporter, "no money, please. Just assume that -I am a damned fool and, therefore, refuse to consider a bribe." - -"I have not bribed you," suggested E. H. Merriwether, calmly. His eyes -never left the reporter's face. - -"Then I misjudged you, and I apologize abjectly; but permit me to -continue to be an ass and blind to money. What about Thomas Thorne -Merriwether, only son and heir of the railroad king of the Southwest?" - -"Well, what about him?" The face of E. H. Merriwether showed only what -you might call a perfunctory curiosity. The reporter looked at him -admiringly. After a pause, he asked: - -"Do you know her?" - -"Do you?" - -"Then you don't!" exclaimed the reporter, triumphantly. "This is better -than I had hoped." - -"Better?" - -"Certainly; it means a better introductory article. The first of the -series will be: 'To whom is Tom Merriwether engaged?' Think of it, -sir," he said, with the enthusiasm of the true artist, "the heir of -the Merriwether millions! By the way, could you tell offhand how many -millions I might safely say?" - -Whatever Mr. Merriwether may have thought, he merely said, with the cold -finality that often imposes on young reporters: - -"Young man, if you begin your career by being vulgar your ruin will be -of your own doing." - -"My dear sir, vulgarity never ruined any career. All the great men of -history were at the beginning accused of hopeless vulgarity--by those -on whom they trod. I tell you it is not vulgarity that prompts me, but -mastery of the technic of my trade. Do you care to have me tell you -about my article?" - -What Mr. E. H. Merriwether really wished to hear was that Tom was not -in love--that he was not on the verge of brutally assassinating all -the hopes and dreams of a fond father. What he said to the unspeakable -reporter was: - -"Yes." - -"Well, I start with this basis--my knowledge of your son's engagement." - -"Where did you get that knowledge?" - -"One of the few things a reporter is incapable of doing is betraying -a confidence. To tell you the source of my information would be that. -Starting with that one fact, my problem is to make that one fact so -important as to enable me to write several thousand words. To justify -this I must make your son very important. He is not really very -important, but you are. I shall slightly over-accentuate here and -there"--he waved his hand in the air, and repeated, dreamily--"here -and there! You will be the Napoleon of railroads, the Von Moltke of the -ticker, doer of deeds and upbuilder, indisputably the greatest captain -of industry that America has yet produced!" - -"Heavens!" burst from the lips of the imperturbable little magnate. - -"You are a stunning study for a novelist. Yours is the great romance -of the American business man! Having made you romantic, I wave my -magician's wand and quadruple your millions. Yours, my dear sir--if -you don't happen to know it--is one of the great fortunes of the world! -You've got Croesus skinned to death and John D. whining over his lost -pre-eminence!" - -"Now look here--" interjected E. H. Merriwether, sternly; but the -reporter retorted, earnestly: - -"Hold your horses!" And the great millionaire did. The young man -continued in his enthusiastic way: "It is much to have the hundreds -of Merriwether millions, but it is infinitely more to have all the -Merriwether millions and such a father and youth. I thus make Tom, who -is really of no importance, of even greater importance than the great -E. H. Merriwether. Do I know my business?" And he bowed in the general -direction of the elder Merriwether. - -"I begin to suspect," replied the elder Merriwether, "that you do." - -He was watching the reporter closely. He always had found it profitable -to let men talk on. A man who talks is apt to show you what he is; and -that furnishes to you the best available weapon. You also may learn when -it is better not to fight. - -"When it comes to picturesque writing about people I do not know, I -can assure you, Mr. Merriwether," the young man said, modestly, "that -I haven't an equal in the United States. In your case I shall not be -handicapped by either facts or knowledge, which are always fatal to the -creative faculty. I shall be free--absolutely free to write!" - -Mr. Merriwether permitted himself a frown in order to conceal his -uneasiness. This young man was talking like a humorist. The eyes were -intelligent and fearless. The combination was formidable. - -"Your theory has doubtless many supporters among your colleagues." - -"There are," admitted the reporter, cheerfully, "other bright young -creative artists on our staff. Well, I proceed to make your son a -paragon--a clean-minded, decent, manly young millionaire." - -"Which he is!" interjected Mr. Merriwether, sternly. - -"Of course! I know it. Have no fear on that score. I'd make him all that -even if he wasn't. I proceed to draw attention--with a cleverness I'd -call devilish if it wasn't my own--to the strange and, on the whole, -agreeable vein of romanticism in the Merriwether nature. There you are, -a hard-headed man of affairs, whose name the world associates with great -engineering deeds and great high-finance misdeeds! You are--do you know -what?--a poet!--a wonderful poet whose lines are of steel, whose numbers -are of tonnage, whose song is chanted by the ten thousand purring wheels -of your tireless cars." - -"My car-wheels are lubricated. They don't purr," mildly objected the -railroad poet. - -"They do in my story," said the reporter, firmly. "And to prove it -I'll quote some striking lines from one of those unknown books we great -writers always have on tap. Your romantic nature expresses itself in the -creation of an empire in the alkali desert. You have written an epic on -the map of America--in green!" - -"That sounds good to me," said Mr. E. H. Merriwether, with the detached -air of a critic of literature. - -He did not know just how to win this young man's silence--perhaps by -letting him talk himself out of creative literature; perhaps by the -inauguration of a molasses diet at once! - -"Thank you! Your son Tom's romance is in his unusual love-affair! This -young man, the most eligible bachelor in the world--handsome, rich, a -fastidious artist in feminine beauty, with a heart that has kept itself -inviolate--pretty swell word that?--in-vi-o-late--all these years, opens -at her sweet voice. We alone are able to announce the engagement. High -society is more than interested--more than startled. As thinks society, -so thinks the shop-girl; and there are fifty million of her. What -society is incinerating itself with desire to find out is: To whom is -Tom Merriwether engaged? Will our fair readers devour the article? I -leave it to you, Mr. Merriwether!" The young man looked inquiringly at -Mr. Merriwether. - -"I'd read it myself," said Mr. Merriwether, very impressively. "I -couldn't help it!" You could see that literature had triumphed over the -stock-ticker. A great diplomatist was lost in a great money-maker. - -"Thank you! And what do you find at the end of the article? What? Why, -a nice psychological little paragraph to the effect that we propose to -print the name of the one woman who, of all the tens of thousands who -have tried, has won the heart of Thomas Thome Merriwether, whose father -you have the honor to be. We refrain, in order to have the parents of -the young people formally announce the engagement. By doing this we -get the full value of the to-be-continued-in-our-next suspense, for the -first time utilized in a news story; and we also increase our reputation -for gentlemanly conservatism, which prevents the refined reporter of -the--of my paper from intruding into a family affair." - -"Will your paper be damned fool enough to--" began E. H. Merriwether, -intentionally skeptical. - -"It is not damned folly to extract all the juice contained in the scoop -of the century--it is technical skill of a very high order. Now what -happens? My esteemed contemporaries, morning and evening, chuck a fit -and bounce their society editors. They then rush for the telephone and -despatch their strongest photographers, sharpest sleuths, and entire -dictagraph corps to the scene. They can't find Tom--because, as you -know, he is in--he is out of town. And they can't find her--because I -haven't said who she is. There remains you!" - -"That won't do them any good," said Mr. E. H. Merriwether, decisively; -but he shuddered. - -"Precisely! I banked on that. But, even if you did see them, what could -you tell them? Deny what is bound to be confirmed in the next issue of -my paper? You know better than to acquire a reputation for lying in the -newspapers. No, siree! Your game is to deny yourself to all inquirers -and say nothing. My esteemed contemporaries have now but one desire--to -wit: to print the name and publish the portrait of your son's fiancée. -Of course you see what happens then, don't you?" - -The reporter looked at the iron-hearted E. H. Merriwether, with such -pity in his eyes that the great little czar of the Southwestern Railroad -for the first time in his life realized he was merely a man--a human -being; an ordinary, every-day father; one drop in the vast ocean; one -of the crowd temporarily aboveground and therefore exposed to the same -sorrows and troubles and sore vexations as all mankind. His millions, -his position in the world, his great work, his undoubted genius--could -not avail even to rid him of annoyance. Can you imagine John D. -Rockefeller living on Staten Island in June and unable to buy -mosquito-netting--price, five cents a yard? - -"What will happen?" asked the great millionaire, who was also a father. - -"My intelligent colleagues, of course, will look for the lady. Where -there is a strong demand the supply automatically offers itself for -consumption. And what will the seven hundred and fifty alert young men, -with great capacities for fictional art, who are temporarily assisting -actress-ladies and self-paying authoresses and unprinted poetesses -and fertilizer-manufacturers unmarried daughters, do? What will those -estimable young artists, miscalled press agents, do when they encounter -the demand for Tom's fiancée's photograph? What except 'Here she -is!'--six thousand words, thirty-two poses, and a facsimile of a -love-letter or two, to prove it! And then--chorus-ladies, poetesses, -fair divorcées about to honor the vaudeville--" The reporter stopped--he -had seen the look on E. H. Merri-wether's face. He felt sorry. "But it -is true," he said, defensively. - -"Yes!" Tom's poor rich father felt cold all over. - -The reporter pursued, more quietly: "You know the ingenuity of my -colleagues, the great American respect for a millionaire's privacy, and -the national sense of humor. Will your son's love-affair be discussed? -Will it be discussed with the gentlemanly reticence and innate delicacy -of feeling of _my_ story?" - -Mr. E. H. Merriwether never before realized that the law against -homicide was even more absurd than an Interstate Commerce Commission -order; but he had to bow to the inevitable. He was beginning to -understand how Napoleon felt on the deck of the _Bellerophon_ when on -the way to St. Helena., Do you remember the picture? He nodded--not -dejectedly, but also not far from it. - -"Well, in a day or two or three, according to conditions; we come out -with it. We print the lady's name and her portrait--possibly not the -best of all her photographs, but the only one I could--" - -"Who is she?" burst from the lips of the reporter's victim. - -Instantly the reporter's face became very serious. "I feared so, Mr. -Merriwether," he said, very quietly. - -"Look here, my boy!" interrupted Mr. Merriwether, with an earnestness -that had in it a threat. "I don't know what your game is and I don't -care. I'll admit right now that you are a very clever young man and -probably not a crook; but I tell you calmly, quietly, without any -threats, that you are not going to publish any damned-fool article about -my family in any paper in New York." - -The reporter rose and looked straight into the unblinking eyes of the -great financier. Then he said, slowly, and, the old fellow admitted, -distinctly impressively: - -"And I tell you, twice as quietly and ten times as calmly, without -any fool threats, that all the daily newspapers in New York and -Philadelphia, Chicago, San Francisco, Boston, and ten thousand other -towns in the United States, Canada, Mexico, the Canal Zone, and -countries in the Postal Union, are going to publish articles about your -son Tom's engagement, and later on about his marriage. Understand once -for all, that there are some things all your millions and all your -will-power cannot do. This is one of them. It is the penalty of being -a public character--or, if you prefer, of being an exceptionally great -man. Do I understand that you have nothing to say about your son's -coming marriage?" - -E. H. Merriwether in less than five seconds thought of more than five -thousand possibilities, all in connection with his son's marriage. Then -he said, very slowly, fighting for time and a chance to escape: - -"My son will marry whenever he and the young lady chiefly interested -judge fit to do so. He and I are in perfect accord, as always." Mr. -Merriwether was looking into the too-fearless and too-intelligent -gray-blue eyes of the reporter. Then he did what he did not often do -in his Wall Street affrays--he capitulated. "Will you give me your word -that you will not use for publication what I am about to tell you?" - -"No, sir, I won't!" emphatically replied the reporter. "You might tell -me something I already know and then you'd always think I had broken -my word. I will not pledge myself not to print the name of your -daughter-in-law-to-be; but anything that concerns you personally or your -attitude toward your son's finacée, or hints of a family quarrel--or -those things that offend a sensitive man--I promise not to print. You -have some rights; but I also owe certain things to myself and my paper. -I've been frank with you. You can be frank with me if you wish. I put it -up to you." - -Mr. Merriwether, after a thoughtful pause, said: "Look here! I don't -know anything about my son's engagement. I cannot swear he is not -engaged, but I don't know that he is. It follows that I do not know the -young lady. You don't have to print that, do you?" - -The reporter gazed on the financier meditatively. Presently, instead of -answering the question, he asked: - -"Have you had no suspicion of any romance?" - -"Well"--and it was plain that E. H. Merriwether was telling the truth, -having made up his mind to that policy as being the wisest--"well, I -have of late suspected that such a thing might be possible. It is, I -will confess to you, a terrible predicament, because a man naturally -cherishes certain hopes for his only son." On Mr. Merriwether's face -there was a quite human look of suffering. - -"Of course," said the reporter, apologetically, as though offering an -excuse for a friend's misdeed--"of course a man in love is not always -wise." - -"No. And though I have no intention or desire to bribe you, and though I -would not presume to interfere with you in your professional activities -or influence you by pecuniary considerations, you will pardon me for -suggesting--" - -The reporter did not let him go on. He rose and said, with real dignity: - -"Mr. Merriwether, suppose we drop the matter right here?" - -"You mean?" - -"I will not print any story yet--on one condition." - -"Name it. I think likely I can meet it." - -"Give me your promise that you will give me an interview the next time -I come to see you. It may be in a day or two or a week. I don't promise -not to print the story, you understand, but it will give you time -to--well, to see your son." - -E. H. Merriwether held out his hand and said: "I will see you any time -you come. But let me say, as an older man, that if you should suffer any -loss by not printing--" - -"Oh no--I shall not suffer. I propose to print my story. I am simply -deferring publication; but I thank you for the offer you were going to -make. It shows more consideration and, therefore, far greater common -sense than most men in your position habitually display before a -reporter. I'll do even more--I'll give you a friendly tip." He stopped -talking and looked doubtfully at E. H. Merriwether. - -"Thank you," said Mr. Merriwether, with a remarkable mixture of -gratitude, dignity, and anxiety. "I am listening." - -"Find out why he goes to 777 Fifth Avenue. There are some things a -really intelligent father, poor or rich, should--" He caught himself. - -"Please finish, my boy!" cried the great little man, almost -entreatingly. - -"There are just a few things"--the reporter was speaking very slowly and -his voice was lowered--"which an intelligent father does not trust to -others--not even to the most loyal confidential men--things that should -be done by the father himself. The number is 777 Fifth Avenue!" - -"I thank you, Mr.--" - -"William Tully," said the reporter. - -"Mr. Tully, I thank you. I think you are throwing away time and brains -in your present position, and if you should ever--" - -"Thank you, sir. Don't be afraid. I shall not bother you by--" - -"But I mean it," said E. H. Merriwether. - -The reporter smiled and said, "If you knew how often my fortune has been -made by men whose story I have not printed you'd be deaf, too." - -"Young man, I sometimes forget favors, but not the possession of brains. -I need them in my business." - -"Well, then, suppose you show your appreciation by telling the -red-headed person in the outer office that he is to take in my card to -you when I call again?" - -"Certainly!" And the czar of the great Pacific & Southwestern system -nearly slew Doyle by accompanying the reporter to the outer door and -saying: - -"Doyle, any time Mr. Tully comes to see me let me know instantly, no -matter what I may be doing or who is with me. Understand?" - -"Yes, sir!" gasped Doyle, looking terrifiedly at the sorcerer. - -Tully! Irish! That was the reason, of course; but he was a wonder, all -the same. - -"Good day, Mr. Tully. I thank you. And don't forget my offer." - -Mr. Merriwether bowed as the door closed on Mr. William Tully and then, -walking like a man in a trance, returned to his private office. He rang -the push-button marked No. 1, and when McWayne appeared turned a haggard -face to his private secretary. - -"McWayne, that reporter has a story of Tom's engagement, but he wouldn't -tell me who the girl is." - -"I don't believe it!" cried McWayne, with a not very intelligent -intention of comforting his chief. At times the male Irish mind works -femininely. - -"Neither do I--and yet I do. It confirms Dr. Frauenthal's diagnosis. -I guess he knows his business, after all. Well, the story will not be -published yet. He acted pretty decently." - -McWayne wondered how much it had cost the old man, but he said, "Didn't -he intimate--" - -"That reporter knows his business," cut in E. H. Merriwether. "He ought -to be a dramatist. Have you heard from your men?" - -"Yes, sir. Tom has gone to Boston. Two of them are with him. He suspects -nothing." - -"What else?" - -"They will let me know by long distance if anything happens." - -"If anything! Great Scott! isn't it enough that--Let me hear what they -report--on the instant!" - -"Yes, sir." - -"And, McWayne--" He hesitated. - -McWayne, his face full of sincere solicitude, prompted, gently: - -"Yes, chief?" - -It was the first time he had ever used that word. It made his speech so -friendly, so affectionately personal, that E. H. Merriwether said: - -"Thank you, McWayne. I wish you would find out for me at once who lives -in 777 Fifth Avenue." - -"Yes, sir," said McWayne. "That's where--" He caught himself. . - -"I am afraid so!" acquiesced the railroad czar, listlessly. - - - -VIII - -Within an hour McWayne walked into the private office. His chief closed -his jaws--a weaker man would have clenched his fists--in anticipation. - -"Breese & Silliman, the real-estate men, say they rented 777 Fifth -Avenue, furnished, to a Madam Calderon--an American woman, widow of -a Peruvian nitrate king. She came up here and asked Breese about a -suitable location. She has a daughter she wishes to marry in America. -She talked quite freely about her affairs. The house was for sale, but -she leased if, furnished, with privilege of purchase. Belongs to the -Martin-Schwenk Construction Company. The daughter is about thirty, dark, -Spanish-looking, and fleshy; rather--er--inclined to make googoo eyes, -as Breese says, in a kind of foreign way." - -"Go on," commanded E. H. Merriwether. - -"Mrs. Calderon said point-blank that she wished her daughter to marry a -nice young man of wealth and position, preferably a blond. I gather that -the agents were rather anxious to let the house and probably encouraged -her. She has paid quarterly in advance, and her banking references are -O. K.; but nothing about her personally is known to any one. That's all -I could get." - -"Very well. Thank you, McWayne." - -The private secretary stood beside the desk, hesitated, and presently -walked out. Shortly afterward, the great and ruthless E. H. Merriwether, -full of perplexity and regret--and some remorse over his neglect of -his only son for so many years--went uptown. He desired to know what to -expect, in order to be able to think intelligently, and, therefore, -to fight efficiently. How could he fight--not knowing what or whom to -fight? - -He told the chauffeur to wait, and then rang the bell of 777. - -One of the four footmen whose faces had impressed Tom as being -distinctly too intelligent for menials, opened the door. - -"I wish to see Madam Calderon." - -"I beg pardon, sir. Have you an appointment?" - -"No. Say it is Mr. Merriwether." - -"Mr. who, sir?" - -Mr. Merriwether took out a card. The footman received it on a very -elaborate silver-gilt card-tray and, pointing to a particularly -uncomfortable, high-backed Circassian-walnut chair in the foyer, left -the great little multimillionaire under the watchful eye of footman -Number Two. This annoyed Mr. Merriwether. Nobody is altogether -invulnerable. - -The footman returned, with the card and the tray. - -"Madam is not at home, sir; but her brother would be glad to see you, if -you wish, sir. He is madam's man of affairs." - -"Very well." - -"If you please, sir, this way." And the footman led the way to the door -of the library, where Tom had been received so often. - -"Mr. Edward H. Merriwether!" The emphasis on the first name made the -little czar of the Southwestern roads think it was done in order to -differentiate him from Mr. Thomas Merriwether. Even great men are not -above thinking themselves clever. - -He entered the room and took in its character at one glance, just as Tom -had done. He became cool, watchful, alert, and observing, as he always -did when he went into a fight. He looked at the man who was said to be -the brother of the woman who had leased the house--the woman who had a -daughter she wished to marry to a blond with money and position. - -The man had a square chin and, even in repose, suggested power and -self-control. Mr. Merriwether met the remarkably steady, unblinking -gaze of two extremely sharp eyes, and recognized without any particular -motion that he confronted a man of strength and resource, who, moreover, -had the double strategical advantage of being in his own house and of -not having sought this interview. - -"Be seated, sir," said the man, in the calm voice of one who is -accustomed to obedience, even in trifles. - -Mr. E. H. Merriwether sat down. He noticed little things, as well as -big. He noted, for instance, that he had begun by doing exactly what -this man told him to do. The man intelligently waited for Mr. E. H. -Merriwether to speak. Mr. E. H. Merriwether did so. He said: - -"I called to see Madam Calderon." - -"About?" The man spoke coldly. - -Mr. E. H. Merriwether raised his eyebrows. He did it in order not to -frown. There is no wisdom in needless antagonisms. His only son was -concerned. - -"About my son," he said. - -"Tommy?" - -The great railroad magnate, accustomed to the deference even of the -self-appointed owners of the United States, flushed with anger. Had -things gone so far that such intimacy existed? - -"I understand," he said, trying to speak emotionlessly, "that my son -visits this house." - -"Of his own volition, sir." - -"I did not think there was physical coercion; but, of course, as his -father--" He stopped in the middle of the sentence. - -This never before had happened to this man, who always knew what to -do and what to say, and always did it and said it with the least -expenditure of time and words; but, as a matter of fact, what could he -say, and how? - -"That relationship," the man said, calmly, "often interferes with the -exercise of what people formerly called common sense. Will you please do -me a very great favor, sir?" - -"A favor?" Mr. Merriwether, skilful diplomatist though he could be at -times, now frowned in advance. - -"Yes, Mr. Merriwether--indeed, two favors; or rather, three. First: Will -you please ask me no questions now? Second: Will you please return to -this house at eleven o'clock to-morrow morning? And third: Will you -promise not to speak to your son about your visit here until after you -have paid your second call, to-morrow?" - -It flashed through Mr. Merriwether's mind that to grant the favors -might expedite Tom's appalling marriage. He said, decisively: - -"I cannot promise any of the things you ask." - -"Very well," said the man, composedly. "Then, I take it, there is -nothing more to be said." - -He rose politely, and as he did so pressed a button on the table. The -footman appeared and held the door open for Mr. Merriwether to pass out. - -The autocrat of fifteen thousand miles of railroad, with unlimited -credit in the money-markets of the world, was not accustomed to being -treated like this: but, precisely because he felt hot anger rising in -tidal waves to his brow, he instantly became cool. - -He remained sitting, and said, very politely: - -"If you will allow me, sir, to tell you that my reasons--" - -The man, who was still standing, held up a hand and broke in: - -"And if you will allow me to tell you that I am neither a criminal nor -a jackass I shall then proceed to say that nobody in this house has any -intention of entering into any argument or controversy with you. I am -actuated much less by personal considerations of my own than by a desire -to avert from you eternal regrets and--er--unseemly displays of temper." - -E. H. Merriwether knew exactly what he would like to do to this man. -What he said--very mildly--was: - -"You must admit, sir, that your requests might be interpreted--" - -"Oh, I see!" And the man smiled very slightly. "Well, suppose you take -Tom to your office with you to-morrow morning, and keep him there -while you come here? Tell him to wait for you, because you wish to have -luncheon with him. I do not care to discuss my reasons--for example--for -not wishing you to speak to Tom about this visit. I do not wish to wound -your feelings; but I am not sure that you know Tom as well as a father -ought to know his only son. And there are times when a man must be -more than a father, when he must be a tactful man of the world, and a -psychologist." - -Mr. Merriwether realized the force of this so clearly that he winced, -but said nothing, since he could not admit such a thing aloud. The man -proceeded coldly: - -"If you are both an intelligent man and a loving father, you will -promise what I ask--not for my sake, for yours. There are many things, -Mr. E. H. Merriwether, that money does not cure, and that not even time -can heal. Ask me nothing now; come here at eleven to-morrow morning, and -in the mean time do not speak to Tom about himself--or your fears." - -"If you were only not so--er--well, so damned mysterious--" And Mr. -Merriwether forced himself to smile pleasantly. - -"Ah--if!" exclaimed the man, nodding. "Do you promise?" - -"Yes!" answered Mr. Merriwether. - -He had made up his mind that Tom would not be abducted. As for worse -things, if Tom had not already committed matrimony, he could not very -well do it in his father's private office. It was wise to keep Tom -virtually a prisoner without his knowledge. And parental opposition has -so often served merely to add gasoline to the flame of love that one -father would not even whisper his objections. - -He bowed and left the room, angry that nothing had been accomplished, -relieved that within twenty-four hours the matter would probably be -settled, and not quite so confident of the power of money as he had been -for many years. - - - -IX - -Tom arrived at his home early enough to have his bath at the usual -hour. Though he had never been asked to account for his movements, he -nevertheless made it a point to breakfast with his father. He would do -so to-day. There was no occasion to say he had been to Boston or that he -had slept in a Pullman. - -As a matter of fact, he had not slept well. The stateroom seemed full -of those elusive flower-fragrances that always made him think of her, -particularly sweet peas--a beautiful flower, and of such delicate -colors, he now remembered, who had not thought of them for years. He -really loved them, he now discovered. Their odor always tinged his. -thoughts with a vague spirit of romance; and this, in turn, in some -subtle way, rendered him more susceptible to the lure of adventure. It -almost made him feel like a boy. - -For all the stimulating reaction of his cold plunge, Tom looked a trifle -tired about the eyes at breakfast. - -Mr. Merriwether looked at his son with eyes that also looked tired; -said, "Good morning, Tom!" in his usual tone of voice, and hid behind -his newspaper. Instead of reading about the absurd demands of the -railroad workers all over the United States for higher wages, he was -thinking that he had never allowed anybody to do his work for him, -because he had always intended that Tom should succeed him. He had at -one time fully intended to train Tom for the succession, to have him -learn railroading from brake-man up. - -Indeed, the boy after leaving college had seemed much taken with the -idea and listened with interest to his father's talks about his plans -and desires and hopes. But with the great boom, that wonderful era of -amazing reorganizations and stupendous consolidations, the great little -man had been swamped by the flood of gold that poured into Wall Street. - -And gold, as usual, had been ruthless in its demands on the great little -man's time. For years he had averaged a net personal profit of a million -a month; but it was not that he wished to make more money. It was that -his time no longer belonged to himself; it was not his family's, but his -associates'--not his only son's, but his many syndicates'. And he had -devoted himself to the welfare of his syndicates and had written a -dazzling page in the annals of Wall Street. - -But what about his son's present and the future of the Merriwether -roads? If Tom died, the Merri-wether dream would follow him, but that -would be a natural death at the hands of God. If Tom lived and refused -to be a Merriwether, the death of the Merriwether dreams would be by -slow strangulation. In short, hell! - -His promise to the brother of the woman who had a daughter that might -prove to be the executioner of his dreams stared him in the face. The -situation called for tact and skill and superhuman self-control. He -liked to fight in the open; but this was not a battle for more millions; -it involved more than the deglutition of a rival railroad. - -McWayne had reported that Tom had acted like a lunatic when he could -not secure the room in the Hotel Lorraine that had been engaged by Mrs. -Calderon and daughter. The only ray of light was that Tom had not talked -to the ladies. - -"Tom," asked Mr. Merriwether, casually, "have you anything on special -for this morning?" - -Tom had in mind a visit to 777 Fifth Avenue, at which he promised -himself to end the affair; but he answered: - -"N-no." - -"I mean," said the father, speaking even more casually, because he noted -the hesitancy, "anything that could not be done just as well in the -afternoon." - -"Oh no, I have nothing special; in fact, nothing at all," said Tom. - -Mr. Merriwether saw in his reply merely Tom's way of not declaring his -intention to see the girl. - -"Then I wish you would come down-town with me. I have some papers I want -you to look over, and we'll have luncheon together. What do you say?" - -A prisoner accused of murder in the first degree does not listen to -the jury's verdict with more interest than E. H. Merriwether waited for -Tom's reply, for at this crisis he realized that he had not been in his -son's confidence in those other important little crises of boyhood that -breed in sons the habit of confiding in fathers. - -"Sure thing!" said Tom', cheerfully. - -Though thus relieved of some of his fears, there remained with E. -H. Merriwether the determination that Tom had not volunteered any -information. The little czar of the Pacific & Southwestern was so -intelligent that in general he was fundamentally just. He did not -exactly blame Tom for not confiding in him, but, also, he did not blame -himself. And this was because he had habituated himself to paying for -his mistakes in dollars. What could not be paid off in dollars was never -a mistake, though it might well be a misfortune. - -They went down-town together. Mr. Merriwether took Tom into one of -his half-dozen private offices, made him sit down in one of those -over-comfortable arm-chairs that you paradoxically find in busy Wall -Street offices, and said to him very seriously: - -"My son, here is the history of the Pacific & Southwestern system from -its very start. It goes back to the early stage-line days and is brought -up to to-day. I had it prepared in anticipation of an ill-advised -Congressional investigation. I have thus far succeeded in staving off -the investigation, not because I was afraid of it or because it might -hurt me, but because the market was in bad shape to stand the alarmist -rumors and canards and threats that always go with such affairs. -Other people would have quite unnecessarily lost money. As soon as the -investigation cannot be used as a bear club I'll let up opposing it. -I'll even help it." He paused and gave to Tom a book bound in limp -black morroco. "I want you to read this book because it is written with -complete frankness in order to spike certain political guns. You will -get in it the full story of what has been done and what we hope still -to be allowed to accomplish. When you get through with it you'll know as -much about the system as I do!" - -The old man had spoken quietly and impressively. Tom was so pleased at -having something to occupy his mind and keep it from dwelling on the -girl he had never seen and the exasperating scoundrel at 777 Fifth -Avenue that his face lighted up with joy. - -"You could not have given me anything to do that I'd like better, dad!" -he said, with such obviously sincere enthusiasm that Mr. Merriwether -felt profoundly grateful for this blessing. - -Then came the inevitable reaction and with it the thought: "Have I -gained a successor only to lose him to some--" - -He shook his head, clenched his jaws, and looked at his watch. It was -not yet time to go to fight for the possession of his son. He had much -to do before he left his office to go to 777 Fifth Avenue. - -"Tom," he said, "'you stay here until I return--will you?" - -"You bet!" smiled Tom, looking at the thickness of the system's history. - -"I have a meeting or two before luncheon, but I'll try not to let them -interfere." - -"Any time before three, boss," said his son, cheerfully. - -His heir and successor, but, above all and everything, his son! There -was no sacrifice he would not make for this boy to keep him from -blighting his own career--and his father's hopes, he added, with the -selfishness of real love. - -Knowing that Tom was safely imprisoned and could not marry at least -for a few hours, he was able to concentrate his mind on his railroad's -affairs. He disposed of the more urgent matters. At ten-forty he sent -for McWayne. - -"I'm going to 777 Fifth Avenue." - -"Again?" inadvertently said the private secretary. - -Mr. Merriwether looked at him. - -McWayne went on to explain: "I've had a man watching it since we found -Tom called there, just before going to Boston." - -"Right! I expect to be back in time to lunch with Tom; but if I should -be delayed--" He paused. - -"Yes, sir?" - -"--delayed beyond one o'clock have luncheon brought from the Meridian -Club and tell Tom I wish him to stay until I return. This is important." - -"Yes, sir." - -"I think that is all." - -"If no word is received from you by--" McWayne paused. - -Mr. Merriwether finished. "By two o'clock, come after me. But always -remember the newspapers!" - -"Yes, sir." - -"I'll telephone before two in case I expect to stay beyond that hour." - -"Very well, sir." - -E. H. Merriwether put on his hat, familiar to the world through the -newspaper caricaturists--and walked toward the door. Then he did what he -never before had done--he repeated an order! He said to McWayne, "Look -after Tom!" - -"Yes, sir." - -Then he went to 777 Fifth Avenue to learn whether Tom was to be his -pride and successor or his sorrow and dream-slayer. - - - -X - -E. H. Merriwether drove to the house of mystery in his motor, -told the chauffeur to wait, and rang the bell. One of the -over-intelligent-looking footmen opened the door. - -"I wish to see Mr.--whoever is master in this house." - -"Yes, sir!" - -The footman led the way. At the door of the library he knocked twice, -sharply, then, after a pause, once, and then twice again. He waited; -and presently, having evidently heard some answer not audible to the -financier, he opened the door and announced: - -"Mr. E. H. Merriwether!" - -Why had there been any necessity for signals? Why such cheap theatrical -claptrap? To make him think things? These questions in Mr. Merriwether's -mind showed that the mysterious master of the house knew the advantage -of suggesting the important sense of difference. - -"Good morning, sir." - -"Good morning," answered E. H. Merriwether, and looked about the room. - -No girl! - -It began to irritate him. The man intensified the feeling by speaking -very deliberately, as one to whom time is no object: - -"Will you not be seated, Mr. Merriwether?" - -"I am a very busy man," began the autocrat of fifteen thousand miles of -railroad. - -"Sit down, anyhow," imperturbably suggested the man. - -The autocrat sat down. He said, "But please understand that." - -"I won't keep you any longer because you are sitting. Shall we get down -to business?" - -"Yes." - -"Mr. Merriwether"--the man spoke almost dreamily--"do you know why I -asked you to call to-day at eleven?" - -"No." - -"Because when you were here yesterday it was after banking hours." - -"And?" The little czar was in a hurry to finish. - -"You, Mr. Merriwether, are one of those fortunate mortals about whom the -newspapers do not lie." - -"Oh, am I? I take it you haven't seen a newspaper in twelve years." Mr. -Merriwether, after all, was an American. His sense of humor helped to -make him great. - -"I've read every line that has ever been printed about you--I had to, -in order to study you exhaustively. I find that you are acknowledged by -both friends and foes to be an intelligent man." - -"Oh yes!" - -"A very intelligent man," continued the man. - -"And therefore?" said the very intelligent man. - -"And, therefore, I now ask you to give me one million dollars." - -Mr. E. H. Merriwether never so much as batted an eyelid. He kept his -eyes fixed on the stranger's eyes. He repeated, a trifle impatiently: - -"And?" - -"A certified check will do." - -"Come to the point. I am a busy man," said Mr. Merriwether. - -The man looked at the little financier admiringly. Then he said, "You -mean you wish to know why you should give the million, or what you will -get for it?" - -"Either! Both!" - -"You should give it because it is I who ask it. You will get for it what -is very, very cheap at a million." - -"My dear sir, we'd do business quicker if you'd play show-down." - -Now that it was a matter of money, of paying, of trading, Tom's father -felt a great sense of relief. Still, there was Tom's unhappiness to -consider. Poor boy! - -"I want you to give me a million so that in return I may give you a -daughter-in-law." - -"You mean you will not give me a daughter-in-law if I give you a -million, don't you?" - -"I am in the habit of meaning what I say. The sooner you learn that, -the quicker we'll close the deal. I mean that for a million dollars I'll -give you a daughter-in-law." - -Mr. Merriwether shook his head. It was plainly to be seen on his face -that every moment spent in this room was a sad waste of time. - -"Isn't it worth a million to you?" asked the man, as if he knew it was. - -Mr. Merriwether proceeded to look as though it were worth even less than -a Santo Domingo mining concession. Then he said, with finality: - -"No." - -The man rose. - -"Then," he spoke indifferently, "come back when it is. I'll ask you to -excuse me. I, also, am a busy man. Good day, sir." - -Mr. Merriwether rose and bowed. He looked straight into the man's very -shrewd eyes, smiled very slightly--and sat down again. - -"Do you mean," he asked, very pleasantly, for his bluff had been called, -"Miss Calderon?" - -The man sat down. - -"Oh no!" he answered, unsmilingly. - -"No? Then?" Mr. Merriwether was so surprised that he forgot not to show -it. - -"I am sorry you are a busy man, because what I have to say can not -be hurried. First, you must chase from your mind all thoughts of Wall -Street, high finance, railroad systems--and fill it with love!" - -Mr. Merriwether looked alarmed. Would it all end with a Biblical text -and an exhortation to endow some sort of a Home? - -"You can do this," pursued the man, imperturbably, "by thinking of your -son Tom. He is your only son. You should love him. Once your mind is -attuned to thoughts of love, you will be able to understand me more -easily. Concentrate on love!" The man leaned back in his chair as though -he were certain the attuning process would consume an hour, this being, -alas! a Wall Street man; but Merriwether said, very promptly: - -"I am ready for chapter two." - -"I doubt it. Love! The love of father for son, of son for mother, of son -for wife, of son for father!" - -"I understand. My mind works quickly. Go on!" - -"Do you by any chance happen to know that your son is in love?" - -"Yes. Where is the girl?" - -"It isn't the girl. It's just girl." - -"Oh, hell! Quit vaudevilling!" - -"There is no girl who is the girl. There never was. There doesn't have -to be any!" - -Quite obviously this man was a lunatic--with the eyes of a particularly -sane person. If there was no girl Tom was in no danger of marriage. A -million for not marrying an undesirable person, yes, but a million for a -daughter-in-law, when Tom was not in love! - -"Only," thought Mr. Merriwether, "in case I have the selecting of her! -And if I pick her I don't have to pay." - -"And yet," said the man, musingly, "Tom loves her!" - -Mr. Merriwether's perplexity was fast rising to the dignity of anger. - -"If there had been a girl of Tom's own class," the man went on, as if -talking to himself, "why shouldn't he have been seen in public with -her?" Mr. Merriwether was listening now with his soul. "And if this girl -were of the other class--that financial geniuses, alas! sometimes have -to accept for daughters-in-law--a nice, vivacious chorus-lady, or a -refined Reno graduate, or worse--she would have insisted on being -seen in public with Tom, to show her power and to raise the paternal -bid-price for a trip to Europe--alone!" - -The man ceased to speak and began to nod his head slowly, his gaze on -the rug at his feet. Mr. Merriwether could stand it no longer. - -"If there is no girl, what in blazes do I get for my million?" - -"Your pick of eight." - -"Eight what?" - -"Eight perfect daughters-in-law!" - -A thought shot through Mr. Merriwether's mind: Was any form of insanity -contagious? He looked at the lunatic. The eyes were sane, cold, shrewd, -mind-reading eyes full of a sardonic humor. - -"They are all," added the man, as if he wished to dispel unworthy -suspicion, "in love." - -"With Tom?" - -"With love--like Tom!" - -"With love--like Tom!" helplessly repeated Mr. E. H. Merriwether. - -"Your mind"--the man spoke very slowly and distinctly, as if he wished -to deprive Mr. Merriwether of every excuse for not understanding -him--"does not seem to be working this morning with its usual -efficiency!" - -"No!" admitted Mr. Merriwether, sadly. "If you'd only use words of one -syllable I think I could follow you better." - -"It isn't that. It is that your mind was not attuned in the beginning -to the thought of love, and, therefore, could not follow my words. You -compel me to spend time in explaining the obvious. Listen! If you wish -Tom to become the heir to your name, to your railroad, to your work, and -to all the dreams you have dreamed about your work and about your -son; if you want him to be your successor, to continue your work, to -perpetuate the name and influence of Merriwether in his country--I say, -if you wish all this, he must do one thing, and you must see that -he does it. And that one thing, Mr. Merriwether, is for him to marry -wisely. Do you get that?" - -"Yes," answered Mr. Merriwether, very simply. - -"If he doesn't, it will be death to your hopes, a tragic break in the -Merriwether succession. No, don't shake your head. Admit it. Face it -frankly. I know it. I know that you also know it. Can you expect me to -believe that you want Tom to be the fool husband of a fool girl whose -influence on him--" - -"Tom isn't that kind," interrupted E. H. Merri-wether. - -"All men are that kind. Does history record the case of a man, greater -even than E. H. Merriwether, who, when it came to women, was an utter -ass? Yes, of a thousand; in fact, the stronger the man, the weaker she -makes him--the better his brain, the worse his folly. And the cure? When -an intelligent man realizes that he is a hopeless ass over one woman -he realizes that his only escape is by the suicide route. No! It's much -cheaper for you to pay the million. Oblige me by thinking. Isn't it -cheaper to pay a million?" - -He held up a silencing hand, as though he wished Mr. Merriwether -to spend a full hour thinking of the bargain he was getting. Mr. -Merriwether thought--quickly and accurately as was his wont. And he -admitted to himself that it was indeed cheap at a million. But there -must be value received. Promises, however plausible, are no more to be -capitalized blindly than threats. It depends on who promises, and why; -and also on what is promised. He thought of offering a smaller sum and -of going through the usual preliminaries of a trade, but decided to be -frank. - -"If you can deliver the goods, I'll pay the million." And, after a -pause, he added, "Gladly!" - -"I banked on that when I decided you ought to contribute a million to -our fund," said the man, simply. "I studied you and your fortune and -your vulnerability, and I decided to attack _via_ Tom. This was easier -and cheaper than a stock-market campaign." - -The man somehow looked as though he had said all that was necessary; but -Mr. Merriwether reminded him: - -"You must prove your ability to deliver the goods." - -"I thought"--the man seemed mildly surprised--"we had." - -"Certainly not. The million hasn't stirred." - -"You are a brave man, Mr. Merriwether." - -Mr. Merriwether laughed, and said: - -"What should I fear? People don't murder a man like me and get away with -it--not when the motive is money. Political assassination, perhaps; but -not for a few dollars--especially when my heirs would spend millions to -see that justice did not miscarry." He shook his head, smilingly. - -"My dear sir, when we decided to go into the gold-mining business--" - -"Gold-mining business!" - -"Exactly! We thought to save time and effort by getting our gold already -coined. Our general staff studied various methods--the ticker, for -instance, and legislative attacks on your roads; but we went back -to Tom. It is, of course, nearly as stupid to overestimate as to -underestimate one's opponent; so, while we provided against every -contingency arising from your undoubted possession of a resourceful and -fearless mind, we also thought--please take note--that you might display -stupidity; and we prepared for it. Such as, for instance, in case you -point-blank said No! We have also provided ways of preventing you and -your uncaptured millions from hurting us. Of course we could make the -stock-market pay us for the trouble of kidnapping you or of murdering -you. Don't you see clearly what you would do if you were in my place?" - -"Oh yes--I see it clearly; but I don't believe you could do what I could -in your place?" - -"Nobody is free from vanity, for everybody seems to be a natural -monopolist when it comes to brains. You are kidnapped at this very -moment, aren't you?" - -"People know I am here--" - -"Oh yes! We expect to have you telephone McWayne presently not to expect -you to lunch, and that we have extended every facility to his detectives -for having this house under surveillance. We kidnapped the great -Garrettson and kept him out of reach of the great world of finance long -enough to enable us to cash in. Not only that, but he never told how we -did it. You remember when Steel broke to--" - -"You didn't do that!" exclaimed E. H. Merri-wether. - -"Oh yes, we did; and I'll tell you how." And the man briefly outlined -the case for him. - -E. H. Merriwether listened with much interest. When the man made an end -of speaking, the financier shook his head skeptically, which made the -man ask: "You don't believe it?" - -"No!" answered Mr. Merriwether. - -"Nevertheless, it is so. We also might have engineered in your case some -deal such as that by which we compelled Ashton Welles to disgorge some -of the money he had no business to have." And he proceeded to enlighten -the financier. - -"Very clever!" said Mr. Merriwether. - -"Rather neat!" modestly acquiesced the man. "Suppose we had decided -to kidnap you? The first thing to do is to get you here. Well, you are -here." - -"How will you make money by that?" asked the financier, smiling. - -"We don't expect to. We have not planned to make money by kidnapping -you. Nevertheless, you must admit it can be made a very expensive matter -for you. But please let me kidnap you without interruption!" - -"I beg your pardon!" said Mr. Merriwether, gravely. - -It struck him that the possession of a sense of humor makes a crook -ten times more dangerous. It was what made the reporter, Tully, really -formidable. - -"We assume that you foresaw the danger to yourself in coming alone to -this house. You'd employ private detectives to watch it at ten dollars -a day a man, exactly as you have had your son watched the moment -we decided it was time for you to begin the watching. McWayne, your -efficient private secretary, is ready to move to your rescue. I don't -see what else you could have done to protect yourself that we have not -provided for." - -"The police!" mildly suggested Mr. Merriwether. - -"And the reporters!" mocked the man. "Pshaw! We know what we are doing. -Why, we have rehearsed your kidnapping and even your death. Our ablest -members have in turn impersonated you--put themselves in your place and -fought us. I will not bore you with more details, and I admit that the -human mind cannot foresee accidents; but we have studied how your mind -would work. Suppose you assume that you are kidnapped and beyond the -possibility of help from your friends. Shall I tell you what we have -done to make Tom marry one of our eight desirable candidates?" - -"If you still wish that million." - -"Having decided to attack through Tom, we studied him and his ancestry -on both sides. We easily learned that he had never had a serious -love-affair, and that he was imaginative and adventurous, like yourself. -There were many young women who would have liked to become your -daughter-in-law--too many. That was Tom's trouble. But our problem was -really made easier by that. We simply had to turn his thoughts to love -and to one girl. We therefore did." - -"How?" - -"We got him here. I piqued his curiosity and made the affair an -extraordinary one by saying all we wished him to do was to answer one -question. As we had rather expected, he would not come; but, of -course, we had foreseen that, and so we got him here in one of our own -taxicabs." - -"How?" - -"We telephoned him that the doctor said he should come instantly, and -that you were not really in danger. We don't believe in lies; but we -took pains that no other cab should be in front of the club when we -telephoned him from the corner drug-store. Attention to details, my dear -sir, always brings home the bacon. Having roused the spirit of adventure -in a remarkable way, I then asked him the great question. What do you -think it was?" - -Tom's father shook his head. - -"It was this: Where did you spend your summer at the end of your -freshman year? He told me. Then I gave him a box made to order for me by -a French expert, which would deceive other experts so long as we did not -try to sell it. Anybody can imitate the goldwork of any period. In all -the museums of the world you will find fakes. Attention to details! I -was prepared to have him show that box to local experts. I assumed he -would do so, being a Merriwether and, therefore, intelligently curious." - -"Box with what?" asked Mr. Merriwether, also intelligently curious. - -"Wait! When your son told me where he spent his summer at the end of his -freshman year I knew he was then about nineteen--too young to think of -marriage, but old enough to think of love. He had for the first time in -his life been free from home influences and direct parental supervision. -He was bound to regard himself as a man of the world and think of -innocent flirtations as a manly art. Being in that frame of mind, and at -the same time being a nice, rich, good-looking chap, all the girls would -naturally make a dead set for him. Their numbers would keep him from -having one love-affair. All love-affairs at twenty are much the same. -A boy always begins by being in love with love. Indeed, I believe -twenty-year love to be exclusively a literary passion--that, is, -boys get it from reading about it. Of course I studied time, period, -locality, and manifold probabilities; and, therefore, I sent him on a -mission that suggested love--love for the one girl that Fate intended -him to love and to marry. In order to fix, accentuate, and accelerate -his love-thinking I used the perfume of sweet peas." - -"How does that work?" - -"I picked out sweet peas because they are found everywhere. Their odor -is strong and characteristic. He must have inhaled that odor thousands -of times when he was flirting with pretty girls the summer he spent at -Oleander Point with Dr. Bonner." - -"Yes; but about suggesting--" - -"I advise you to read up on the psychology of odor associations. You -will learn that there is a very close relation between the olfactory -sense and the desire to love. Oliver Wendell Holmes declared that -memory, imagination, old sentiments, and associations are more readily -reached through the sense of smell than by almost any other channel; -and, also, that 'olfactory impressions tend to be associated with a -sum-total of feeling-tone.' This has been known for thousands of years. -A very interesting paper was written by Mackenzie, of Johns Hopkins. If -you read it you will know more than I can now take the time to tell you. -The Orient understands the value of perfumes in lovemaking, and I could -tell you amazing things; but I will refer you to Cabanis, Dadisett, -Hobbes, Jaworski, Jwanicki, Schiff, Wolff, and Zwaardemaker. If you -wish, my secretary will prepare an exhaustive bibliography of the -subject for you." - -"No, thanks," said Mr. Merriwether. "But I still don't understand--" - -The man sighed. Then he said, "I'll tell you, of course." He then told -Tom's father about the message in the dark that Tom had carried. - -"But he couldn't believe it!" exclaimed Mr. Merriwether. - -"No; he couldn't--but he did. Of course I have taken you behind the -scenes---that is, I have opened your eyes and turned your head in the -proper direction and held it firmly there and shouted, 'Look!' And of -course you see the machinery standing still and you can't imagine it in -motion. You are not as imaginative as I thought you were." - -"Huh!" said E. H. Merriwether, thoughtfully. Then after a pause he said: -"I see the wheels revolving. Ingenious!" - -"More than that, practical! My object in having Tom fall in love -with love, suggesting that there was one girl born to be his bride, -accentuated by my use of the sweet-peas odor as a _leit-motif_, was to -have something to offer you which would be cheap at a million. The next -step was to make Tom do foolish things--for effect on you. First, to -make you fear Tom was crazy. I had a girl who knew young Waters talk to -him about Tom's new and alarming queerness and suggest that he telephone -to Mr. E. H. Merriwether. Of course Waters wouldn't telephone--and of -course I did. And, of course, if you had disbelieved or suspected -you would have sent for young Mr. Waters and he would have denied the -telephone, but admitted the queer actions of Tom and the fact that -people were talking about them. That would have allayed any suspicion -you might have entertained. So I stage-managed the opera scene and the -Boston trip to make you fear the worst. In that frame of mind you could -be induced to come here voluntarily. I sent Tully to you. You had to -come!" - -"Very clever!" said Mr. Merriwether, with a thoughtful absence of -enthusiasm. - -"Therefore," continued the man as if he had not heard the other's -interpolation, "your son, being full of the thought of love and, even -worse, of marrying the mate that Fate selected for him five million -years ago, is now ready to marry any girl that smells of sweet peas. -We thought that, instead of vulgarly extracting the million from you by -torture or threats, we would place you in our debt by perpetuating -the Merriwether dynasty. Hence the preparation of eight very nice -girls--three of them in your own set, three others children of people -you know, and the remaining two equally desirable but less historical, -as it were." - -"Who are they?" If Mr. Merriwether was to pay a million he might as well -see the label. - -"Cynthia, Agnes, and Isabel, daughters respectively of Gordon Hammersly, -William Murray, and Vanderpoel Woodford. Any objections?" - -"No; but you can't--" - -"Yes, I can. Also, Louise Emlen, daughter of Marbury Emlen, the -lawyer--" - -"He's a crook!" interrupted Mr. Merriwether. - -"He doubtless interfered with one of your deals; I see you respect him. -He's a crank, but she is a brick. And a Miss Lythgoe, daughter of -Professor Lythgoe, of Columbia, the most beautiful girl in New York. -Ramona Ogden; her father is Dr. Ogden, the lung specialist; her mother -was a Jewess. The remaining two are of humble birth. But all of them are -healthy and beautiful, plenty of honesty, brains, and, above all, -imagination. Any one of them will not only make Tom happy, but will make -him a worthy successor of a great man. And such grandchildren as they -will give you! I envy you!" The man spoke with such fervent sincerity -that E. H. Merriwether merely said: - -"It is a risky business, even though the chances appear to be--" - -"That's why we ask one million dollars--because we have eliminated the -risk. Very cheap. Are you ready?" - -"Yes," said Mr. Merriwether, grimly. - -"Then, will you kindly--" - -"Yes; I will kindly tell you that you are a damned fool! You've wasted -my time. I'm going to my office, and if I don't have you put in jail it -will be because I don't want the publicity. But don't push me too far or -I'll do it anyhow!" And Mr. E. H. Merriwether rose. - -"Sit down!" said the man, with a pleasant smile. - -"Go to hell!" snarled the czar of the Pacific & Southwestern, and looked -at the man with the eyes that Sam Sharpe once said reminded him of a -mink's when it kills for the sheer love of killing. - -For all reply the man clapped his hands sharply twice. Four men--the -over-intelligent-looking footmen--came from behind the heavy plush -portières. Also, the ascetic-looking man who had held the glass of acid -in the taxicab and had brought Tom into the house the first time. The -ascetic-looking man held a cornet to his lips, and his lungs were filled -with still unblown blasts. - -"Three weeks ago, Mr. Merriwether," explained the mysterious master -of the house, "this worthy artist began to practise on his beautiful -instrument at exactly this time every morning. This was in anticipation -of the morning when you should be here--the idea being to drown your -cries. The neighbors have complained and I have promised to play -pianissimo; but a few loud blasts, which will do the trick, will be -forgiven. Attention to details, Mr. Merriwether! Ready!" - -The cometist inflated his lungs and held the comet to his lips in -readiness. The footmen seized Mr. Merriwether by the arms and legs, one -man to each limb. - -"Doctor!" called the master. - -A sixth man came from behind the portières. He had some tin cans in -his hand--plainly labeled ether--and also a cylinder of compressed -laughing-gas and an inhaler. - -"Expert! Anesthetics!" said the man, curtly, to Mr. Merriwether. "We -propose to take you out of this house if we kidnap you. If we decide to -kill you we have arranged to do it right here at home. I think we'll -kidnap you. A week or two will make you amenable to reason. We realize, -of course, that every day you spend under our hospitable roof will make -it a little bit more difficult to get the million into our clutches. -Would you like to know how we propose to kidnap you and get away with -it?" - -"Yes," replied Mr. E. H. Merriwether, with a pleasant smile. - -"Tell our Mr. E. H. Merriwether to come in," said the man to the -cometist, who thereupon disappeared and presently returned, followed by -a man made up to resemble the great financier. - -The task was rendered easy by the famous flat-brimmed hat, with the -crown like a truncated cone, so familiar to newspaper-readers through -the cartoonists' efforts. The resemblance was not striking enough to -deceive at close range, but it probably would work at a distance. - -"Walk like him!" commanded the master. - -The fake Mr. Merriwether walked up and down the room with the curious -swaggering, jockey-like jauntiness of the little railroad man. From time -to time he snapped his fingers impatiently in the same characteristic -way Mr. E. H. Merriwether almost always used when giving an order to -subordinates. - -"That will do!" said the man, with a broad grin at the impersonator of -the little financial giant. The double left the room--still walking _à -la_ E. H. M. - -"I have had that man--an actor of about your build with a gift of -mimicry--coached for weeks to imitate you. We told him it was a joke and -guaranteed him an appearance before the most select audience in New York -at one of Mrs. Garrettson's world-famous functions. We pledged him to a -secrecy so natural, under the circumstances, as to rouse no suspicions. -A few minutes ago we sent a footman to tell your chauffeur to go away -and return at one. He wouldn't do it. The footman said the boss said -so. Your man retorted that he took orders from only the boss -himself--especially when countermanding previous orders. - -"So our Mr. Merriwether went out to the front door, yelled 'One!' in -your voice, and snapped his finger at the intelligent chauffeur, who -thereupon beat it. But the sleuth remains. It makes us laugh! But, -after all, since we have provided for him, it would be a pity not to go -through the entire program. Does this bore you?" - -"Must I tell the truth?" asked Mr. Merriwether, anxiously. - -"Yes." - -"I can stand more." In point of fact, Mr. Merriwether was sure the -situation was serious for him. That is why he joked about it. - -"Over six months ago we opened an antique-shop on Fourth Avenue. We -had the usual truck. Also we have had this antique-dealer--who is your -humble servant--go from house to house on the Avenue offering to buy or -exchange those antiques of which people have grown tired. We even asked -you. We have offered such good prices and such excellent swaps that we -have taken antiques from some of the wealthiest houses on the Avenue. -Also we have made a practice of importing antiques from Europe, which -we auction off every two weeks. The money we get we deposit in various -banks, and then we buy bills on Paris. The banks now know us. Remember -that--it is important. Well, we also have an exact copy of your motor, -even to the initials in the door panels. Pretty soon we send for our -Merriwether motor and our E. H. Merriwether emerges from this house and -gets into his car and off he goes--and the watching sleuth with him." - -"But if there should be two, and one stay?" - -"Then number two will see not long afterward an elaborately carved -Gothic chest taken from here into the antique-dealer's wagon--a wagon -now known to the traffic squad. We carry you away and lock you in a -small sound-proof room, to get to which people would have to move out of -the way a lot of heavy pieces of furniture. There is no question of our -ability to kidnap you and to keep you a prisoner. I tell you we have -paid attention to details persistently and intelligently. Meantime what -does Sam Sharpe do to the stock-market? And Northrup Ashe? How much will -a month's absence from your office cost you?" - -"Not half as much as it will cost you when I get out." - -"And if you don't get out?" - -For reply Mr. E. H. Merriwether grinned broadly. - -"My dear Mr. Merriwether"--the man spoke very seriously now--"we had -not really expected such unintelligent skepticism from you; but, as -we prepared for everything, we, of course, prepared for even crass -stupidity on your part. In demonstrating our power to do what I say some -painful moments will be your portion. This I regret more than I can say. -Just now our problem is to prove our complete physical control of you -and also our utter indifference to your feelings. I am going to do what -will make you hate me to the murder point. In deliberately making a -violent enemy of a man like you we pay ourselves the compliment -of thinking ourselves absolutely fearless. I propose to have you -spanked--to whip you as if you were a bad little boy. We shall at first -use a shingle on you--undraped. You may begin when ready, James." - -"Sir," said one of the footmen, very respectfully, to Mr. E. H. -Merriwether, "will you kindly take off your coat and waistcoat, -preliminary to the removal of your trousers?" - -Mr. E. H. Merriwether tried to smile, but desisted when he saw that the -men's faces had taken on a grim look--as if they knew that after the -whipping it would be a fight to the death. They somehow conveyed an -impression that, though they would not stop at murder, they nevertheless -appreciated the gravity of the offense. - -"We know," said the master, solemnly, "that for every blister we raise -you will gladly spend a million to clap us into jail. Do you really wish -to be spanked and to hate us for it for the rest of your life?" - -"No." - -"The alternative is the million--or death." - -"You can't kill me and get away with it." - -"Oh yes--even easier than kidnapping. I'll show you how we'll do it." -He rose and took from one of the drawers of the table a small, -morocco-covered medicine-case, opened it, and showed Mr. Merri-wether -a lot of small tubes tightly stoppered. "Cultures!" explained the -man--"typhoid; bubonic plague; anthrax; _Bacillus mallei_--that's -glanders--meningitis; Asiatic cholera; and others. This, for -instance--number thirteen--is the virus of tetanus. Inoculation with -an ordinary culture would take days; but with this virus it will take -hours. What a wonderful thing science is! You know what tetanus is?" - -"Yes," answered Mr. Merriwether, calmly, "lockjaw." - -"Exactly! Well, this will lock your jaws, and all your millions won't -be able to pry them open for you, and all the antitoxin injections won't -help you. You will have your consciousness almost to the last--and you -will not make yourself understood. The _risus sardonicus_, which is -a most unpleasant sort of grin resulting from your inability to smile -naturally, will linger in the memory of Tom to his death. You really -ought to have a moving-picture film of your last hours taken as a -warning to those stupid millionaires whose plunder we would recover. -And, of course, I have here seven poisons, of which prussic acid is the -mildest and slowest. Will you please assume the fact of your death?" - -"I'll do that much to please you," said Mr. Mer-riwether. He still -believed that murder would not be profitable to these men and hence did -not believe they would go that far. - -"Would you like to know how we propose to dispose of the body?" - -"I might as well see everything," he answered, in a resigned tone of -voice. The man looked at him admiringly, and said: - -"Come on!" - -They led the great E. H. Merriwether to the cellar. There he saw that -the furnace coal had been taken out of its bin and put in the adjoining -compartment. The plank floor had been taken up, and what looked like a -short trench--or a grave--had been dug. Outside stood a pile of crushed -stone, some bags of cement, some bundles of steel rods, a section -of five-inch iron soilpipe with a mushroom-head trap at one end, and -concrete-workers' tools. - -"After we make absolutely sure that you are dead we throw a lot of -soft mortar into the grave, deposit the corpse, and then pour in more -cement--so that you will be completely surrounded by it. It will make -it very difficult indeed to recognize you when they try to chip away the -hard cement--if they ever try! Then we fill the grave up to the top with -concrete, using plenty of steel rods--not to re-enforce the concrete at -all, but to make it very hard digging with a pick. - -"We also stick the soilpipe into the--er--cavity in order to account -for the disturbed pavement. Intelligent searchers--your son and his -detectives--will assume it is plumbing--and seek no further. We replace -the plank flooring in the bin and fill it up with coal, thereby further -obliterating all traces of your grave. - -"We have provided for that part, you see. Why, my dear Mr. Merriwether, -what we really do to you is confer immortality on you. We elevate you -to the rank of one of the mysteries. Charlie Ross and E. H. Merriwether! -Just assume that we'll do what I say. Very well! Now, visualize the -search made for you. Endow your people with superhuman ingenuity. -Useless!" - -The man waved a hand toward Mr. Merriwether; but Mr. Merriwether said: - -"You assume that the search will be exclusively for me--but they will -also search for you!" - -"My dear sir, that is unkind of you!" The man spoke reproachfully. "We -know that when we go into the plunder-recovery business we must guard -against the chief contributory cause of the vast majority of -all business' failures, according to the statistics of Dun and -Bradstreet--to wit, insufficient capital. Murderers are caught when -their faces and habits and families are known. Usually their lack of -means forces them to betray themselves. But nobody knows how the men who -will kill E. H. Merriwether look, simply because we have enough money to -go anywhere. We will become tourists--like thousands of others. Some of -us will stay in New York; others will go on round-the-world tours. See -this?" - -The man pulled from his pocket some packages of well-worn bills, with -the bank-wrappers round them, though a finger hid the bank name. Also -the man showed to Mr. Merriwether several books of travelers' checks of -the fifty-dollar denomination--the specimen signature also being covered -by the man's finger. - -"Enough for all," said the man. "Kindly oblige me by thinking of -what you would do in my place; and, in all frankness, acknowledge that -nothing would be easier than to get away. Ordinary crime is so largely -accidental that the average criminal is at the mercy of even the -unintelligent police. Professionals do the same thing over and over and -acquire telltale mannerisms. Also, they lack culture, and find the -class attraction too strong to resist--besides always being hard up and -therefore defenseless. Whenever you find a crook who is thrifty, you -will find him always out of jail--like any other business man of equal -thrift. We have gone about this case systematically. We wanted your -million--but, more, we wanted the sport of taking it from a man who had -no moral right to the particular million we desired. If you had been -a really conscienceless financier we'd have made it five millions; in -fact, it is because we are not sure that even this million is tainted -that we ask you to pay it to us for giving you a fine daughter-in-law. -Shall we go up-stairs?" - -The master of the house led the way up-stairs and Mr. E. H. Merriwether, -escorted by the stalwart footmen with the intelligent faces, followed, -his own intelligent face impassive. That he was thinking meant only that -he was doing what he always did. - -The man sat down in his chair, with his back to the stained-glass -window. He asked, pleasantly: - -"What do you say now, Mr. Merriwether?" - -"I say," the little czar answered, with a frown of impatience, or anger, -or both, "that when you are tired of playing the damned fool I'd like to -return to my business." - -The man rose to his feet quickly, his face pale with anger. He took -a step toward the financier, his fists clenched--and then suddenly -controlled himself. - -"You jackass!" he said. "You idiot! Have you no brains whatever? Must -I lash common sense into you? Take 'em off!" It was a command to the -footmen. - -"Will you disrobe, sir?" very politely asked the oldest of them. - -Mr. Merriwether, six inches shorter than the speaker, and a hundred -pounds lighter, drew back his fist, but the four men seized him -and began to take his clothes off. Mr. Merriwether, recognizing the -uselessness of resistance and the folly of having garments torn so far -from home, helped by unbuttoning here and there. Presently he stood _in -puris naturctlibus_. - -His face was pale and his jaw set tight. - -"Tie him!" commanded the master. - -They tied him to the library table, face down. - -"Music!" cried the man; whereupon the cometist began to play the -Meditation from "Thaïs" softly, but obviously ready to play fortissimo -at a signal from the chief. - -"I am going to lick you with a whip; and, for every lash I give you, -you will have to pay me one hundred thousand dollars in addition to -the original million. Theatrical, is it?" And his voice was hoarse with -anger. "Yes? Well, look at this melodramatic whip. Your tragedy will be -my comedy, you--------jackass!" - -He showed to Mr. E. H. Merriwether a quirt--a veritable miniature -blacksnake of plaited leather. - -"You can stand twenty; that will make three million in all. I'll draw -blood after the fifth. I'll stop when you've got enough. Remember the -price!" - -He snapped the whip viciously and walked round the table until he -stood behind Mr. Merriwether. He lifted his arm and then the -great Merriwether, autocrat of fifteen thousand miles of railroad, -iron-nerved, fearless, imaginative, and intelligent, yelled: "Wait!" - -"The million?" - -"Yes!" - -"Help him!" said the man; and the intelligent-looking footmen -respectfully served as valets. - -"I don't believe you would kill me--but I never liked spankings." Mr. -Merriwether spoke jocularly--almost! - -The man confronted Mr. Merriwether and said, very seriously: - -"Mr. Merriwether, we should certainly have killed you if you had -persisted in your stubbornness to the end. We knew we had to convince -you." - -The man looked inquiringly at the financier to see whether any doubt -remained; but Mr. Merriwether asked, quizzically: - -"Honest, now, would you--" - -"We would!" interrupted the man, looking straight into Mr. Merriwether's -eyes. And what Mr. Merriwether saw there made him ask: - -"How will you have the million?" - -"In cash. I'm glad you will make the payment. But really, sir, I wish to -impress on you that Tom is ripe to be taken for better--or for worse." - -Mr. E. H. Merriwether looked long and earnestly into the eyes of the -mysterious man who was despoiling him of a million dollars. It began to -seep into his understanding that if Tom could be married to a nice girl -the resulting peace of mind would indeed be cheap at a million. - -"Now, if you please," pursued the man, pleasantly, "telephone to McWayne -that you wish him to come here with certified checks on your different -banks, aggregating one million dollars, made payable to Michael P. -Mahaffy." - -Mr. Merriwether started. The name was that of the world-famous -political Boss of New York City. Explanations as to the million might -be embarrassing to any political boss; but for a million dollars in cash -any political boss would be glad to explain--or even not to explain. - -"From this house Mr. McWayne will go to the banks, accompanied by the -studious gentleman who had the honor of holding your left leg. You will -indorse each check by writing 'indorsement correct' and signing your -name. McWayne will go with our Mr. Michael P. Mahaffy and get the money -in fives, tens, and twenties, in handy wads--old bills preferred and -so requested from the paying tellers, who will intelligently understand -that Mr. Mahaffy is not signing his name in person, so he can swear in -any court of justice that he never saw the checks. Asking for old bills -is to make them impossible to trace. This will also allay the banks' -suspicions. The worst that can happen will be that a few tellers will -wonder what Mr. Merriwether has to do with city politics that he needs -Mahaffy's aid." - -"I see!" said Mr. Merriwether, thoughtfully. Then, after a pause: "Where -is the telephone?" - -"There!" - -In plain sight and hearing of the master of the house the master of the -Pacific & Southwestern called up his own office. He spoke to McWayne: -"Make out checks on all banks according to my balances in them, so that -the checks will aggregate one million dollars, payable to Michael P. -Mahaffy.... What? Yes?... Have the checks certified.... Of course, if -there isn't enough!... We shall want bills that have been used--fives, -tens, and twenties.... Yes, all cash. Come up to 777 Fifth Avenue. You -will go to the banks with a man--" - -"With Mr. Mahaffy," prompted the man. - -"With Mr. Mahaffy," repeated Mr. Merriwether. "And tell Tom to have -luncheon and wait for me," again prompted the man. - -"And tell Tom I can't go to luncheon with him, but to wait for me." - -Mr. Merriwether hung up the receiver and turned to the man, saying: - -"The idea of using Mahaffy's name--" - -"Rather good, isn't it?" smiled the man. "Of course you wondered how -we were going to cash the checks, didn't you? Well, that's the way. The -bank officials will be surprised to see the checks and they will watch -McWayne and my man to the last. They will thus be able to hear my man -say loudly to the chauffeur, 'Tammany Hall, Charlie!' Attention to -details, my dear sir!" - -"I still am not quite convinced that--" - -"My dear Mr. Merriwether, there are so many ways of safely getting money -from you Wall Street magnates that the only thing that really protects -you is the sad fact that the professional crooks are even more stupid -than you. Men like you are compelled to bet your entire fortune, your -very life, on averages. The average man is both stupid and honest; so -you and your like are fairly safe for fairly long periods of time. Of -course if we had been obliged to kill you we should have done so and -buried you, and we should have been wise enough to utilize your death -in as many ways as possible in the stock-market--and out of it. For -instance, I should have instantly telephoned to all the men in your -class and told them we had eliminated you--as an example--and to -remember that in case we ever had occasion to ask anything from them. -We should also give them a countersign, so that they would be able to -recognize us when the proper time came. I can kidnap or permanently -suppress any millionaire in New York, with neatness, despatch, and -safety." - -"But killing a well-known man--" began Mr. Merriwether. - -"If Big Tim Sullivan could be killed and lie in the Morgue for days -unrecognized, what chance do relatively unknown people like you great -millionaires stand to be found, once dead? A dead capitalist, remember, -is no more impressive than a dead streetcar conductor. If I got you -into this house on the strength of Tom, as I got Tom to come in on the -strength of you, what millionaire would refuse, for example, to go, in -answer to a telephone message that his child had been run over and was -now, let us say, at 128 East Seventy-ninth Street? Or that his wife, -acting more or less as if she were intoxicated, was scattering money at -the corner of Seventh Avenue and Twenty-ninth Street? And suppose the -millionaire is bound and chloroformed, and taken to the top floor of a -tenement hired by a humpback with red beard and one leg shorter than -the other--same humpback not being really a humpback or red-bearded or -a cripple, but a fake, to furnish false clues in advance--and this -humpback has previously given fire-extinguishing hand-grenades to all -the other tenants, as advertisements! Then we have a charge of dynamite -inserted in the thoroughly prepared corpse of the millionaire--his face -burned off in advance--and he is also soaked in inflammable material and -set on fire. And the deed is done at 11 a.m.; so that all the children -will be in school and all the adults awake and able to get out. Find -you? Bits of flesh and sympathy for the poor humpback is all the police -would find in that tenement. Oh! sir, you were wise to pay--very wise -indeed!" - -Mr. Merriwether looked at the man a long time. He could not deny that -to really desperate men such deeds offered no particular difficulty. The -average crook is not dangerous to a millionaire; but a man like this -is more than dangerous. He thought quickly and formed his conclusions -accurately. - -"How are you going to make Tom marry one of the girls whose names you -mentioned?" he asked, in the tone of voice one uses toward physicians. - -The man smiled slightly and said: "Oh, I am not going to do it. I don't -care whether he marries or not. You must do that. But I'll tell you how, -if you wish,--after McWayne gets here. Just think over the affair. It -will put you in a more intelligently receptive frame of mind." And with -a pleasant smile the man took a little book bound in green leather and -began to read. - -Mr. E. H. Merriwether, as was his wont when thinking, began at the -beginning and reviewed the entire affair quickly but carefully. He did -this again--it did not take him long--and then he began to co-ordinate -his ideas and study the case. Within ten minutes he had forgotten his -animosity. In fifteen he felt respect for this man. In twenty he was -thinking how helpless any one man is against his ten billion trillion -natural foes--microbes, seismic disturbances, floods, and the chemical -reaction of hostile brains. This man, whose very name was unknown to -him, had vanquished the victor--had looted the tent of the victorious -general! - -This was incredible when spoken in a conversational tone of voice. -Perhaps this same remarkable man might tell how to make Tom choose a -desirable wife. It was worth while making the experiment. It was in the -nature of a gamble in which E. H. Merriwether stood to win a happiness -worth all the money in the world and stood to lose nothing! - -A knock at the door roused him from his reverie. One of the footmen -arrived from the threshold. - -"Mr. McWayne!" - -Mr. Merriwether's private secretary entered. E. H. Merriwether held out -his right hand. - -Mr. McWayne took four slips of paper and gave them to his chief, who -quickly looked at them and passed them over to the master of the -house. The man looked at them, indorsed them, and handed a pen to Mr. -Merriwether. The czar of the Pacific & Southwestern wrote on each of the -checks: - -Indorsement correct. - -E. H. Merriwether. - -He returned the checks to the man, who thereupon pushed a button a -number of times. - -One of the footmen with the non-menial faces appeared dressed for the -street. He looked Irish. He wore a big solitaire scarf-pin. His hat -inclined to one side noticeably. He carried a square valise in each -hand. They looked as if they had seen service. On each was printed, -"Treasurer Tammany Hall." - -"Go with Mr. McWayne to the banks and cash the checks. Mr. McWayne will -identify you," said the master of the house. - -"Yis, sor!" said the footman. - -The brogue was unnecessary, but E. H. Merri-wether smiled slightly. -McWayne and the footman in mufti left together. - -"Think some more!" said the man to E. H. Merri-wether, and resumed his -reading of the little green-leather book. - -Mr. Merriwether leaned back and thought some more. To him the -million-dollar loss was already ancient history. The only virtue that -the Wall Street life gives to a professional is the ability to take a -loss of money with more or less philosophy. That philosophy is also -met on the race-track, and among experts in faro as well as among real -Christians. - -McWayne and the man were gone an hour and eighteen minutes. Mr. -Merriwether had time to think of Tom and of himself and of the relation -that had existed between himself and his son, and of the relations that -would exist between them in the future--God willing. - -"Mr. McWayne!" announced the servant. - -The private secretary entered; also the Irishman with the two valises. - -"Tell the others! At five o'clock!" said the master of the house, and -the footman left the room--with the valises! - -"Mr. McWayne, will you kindly wait in the other room?" The man rose and -parted the portières for the secretary to pass through. - -"Certainly," said McWayne, frowning politely. "Now, Mr. Merriwether," -said the man, "as I told you, Tom's mind and soul are prepared for love. -The romantic vein in him has been worked to the limit. He can be laughed -out of it very easily, for he is not entirely convinced; but it is too -valuable a frame of mind for a really intelligent father to destroy. The -young ladies, also, are ripe for the coming of the one man in all the -world. They will respond readily--and, I may add, respond with relief if -they see he is a man like your son, against whom nothing can be said. It -will clinch the affair. My advice is for you to call on the young -ladies I have mentioned and judge for yourself, and then you be your own -stage-manager!" - -"Have you any choice yourself?" - -"You know Woodford?" - -"Very well." - -"And his daughter Isabel?" - -"No." - -"Well, she has the complementary qualities. She will, as it were, -complete Tom. She is bright, healthy, very handsome, utterly unspoiled -by the knowledge of her good looks--that is, she is highly intelligent. -Her mind functionates quickly and is regulated and made to work safely -by her keen sense of humor. You will love her for herself, as well as -for Tom's sake and for Tom's children's sake. Arrange two things and you -can do it. One is prepare her to meet Tom. Tell her you don't know why -you want her to know him, but you do. Tell her you wanted this before -you ever saw her. And tell her you know she must think you must be going -crazy--but will she meet Tom in her father's home?--in some room with -the lights turned out? She will ask you why you ask such things. And you -will rub your hand across your eyes and say, dazed-like: T don't know! -I don't know! Will--will you do it?' And when you take Tom to her, take -advantage of the dark, and open this little bottle and touch Tom's lapel -with this. It is essence of sweet peas. He will associate Isabel with -the mysterious girl to whom he took a message in the dark, and by the -same token she will know he is the man who destiny decrees shall be -her husband. Then leave the rest to nature. They won't struggle. They -couldn't if they wished; but they won't wish to fight. My parting words -to you are: the man who was smart enough to get a million dollars out of -you finds it even easier to make a young man who wants to love fall in -love in the springtime with a handsome, healthy girl who wants to be -loved. You and McWayne will now use one of my prisoner-carrying motors. -This way, sir!" - -He led the way into the next room, picked up McWayne, and escorted the -financier and his private secretary to the curb. A neat little motor -stood there. - -Mr. Merriwether climbed in. McWayne followed. And then the man said: - -"You will find that the doors cannot be opened from the inside. The -chauffeur was told this queer feature was due to the fact that his -master expects to use this car for his two very active and very -mischievous children. He will drive you anywhere. You can arrest him if -you wish; but it will be useless. We have spent a good many thousands -of dollars in accessories that will be thrown away to-day." And the man -sighed. - -"Who do you mean by we?" asked E. H. Merriwether, politely. - -"The Plunder Recovery Syndicate, which, having completed its operations, -will now dissolve. Good day, sir." - -In the issue of the _World_ of June 9th two advertisements appeared. -One, under "Marriages," read: - -Merriwether-Woodford.--On June 8th, at the Church of St. Lawrence, -by the Rev. Stephen Vincent Rood, Isabel Woodford to Thomas Thome -Merriwether. - -The other, under "Personals," read: - -P. R. Syndicate,--It was cheap at a million! - -E. H. M. - -On June 10th the great railroad financier received a typewritten letter. -It read: - -_In the course of our operations, having for an object the recovery -of plunder taken from unidentified individuals by malefactors of -great wealth, it has happened that we have grown fond of some of our -contributors. We thus are able most sincerely to extend to you our -hearty congratulations. It was indeed cheap at a million, and we shall -remember your good fortune if ever we need advice or additional funds. -What we took from you and from some of your fellow New-Yorkers we -propose to return to the public at large. Mr. Amos F. Kidder will tell -you his suspicions, if you ask him. In return you might tell him that -we propose to capitalize time. We shall make a present of fifty years to -the world by transmuting the recovered plunder into unspent time. Don't -forget that we who were the Plunder Recoverers are now,_ - -_The Time Givers._ - - -THE END - - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Plunderers, by Edwin Lefevre - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PLUNDERERS *** - -***** This file should be named 51970-8.txt or 51970-8.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/1/9/7/51970/ - -Produced by David Widger from page images generously -provided by the Internet Archive - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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