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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c672702 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #61840 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/61840) diff --git a/old/61840-8.txt b/old/61840-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index fd2b787..0000000 --- a/old/61840-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,10995 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Running Fight, by William Hamilton -Osborne, Illustrated by Harrison Fisher and George Brehm - - -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 Running Fight - - -Author: William Hamilton Osborne - - - -Release Date: April 15, 2020 [eBook #61840] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - - -***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE RUNNING FIGHT*** - - -E-text prepared by Val Wooff and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team -(http://www.pgdp.net) from page images generously made available by -Internet Archive (https://archive.org) - - - -Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this - file which includes the original illustrations. - See 61840-h.htm or 61840-h.zip: - (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/61840/61840-h/61840-h.htm) - or - (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/61840/61840-h.zip) - - - Images of the original pages are available through - Internet Archive. See - https://archive.org/details/runningfight00osboiala - - -Transcriber's note: - - Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_). - - - - - -[Illustration: "Just a stroke of the pen, dear, and my father will be -free" (page 279)] - - -THE RUNNING FIGHT - -by - -WILLIAM HAMILTON OSBORNE - -Author of "The Red Mouse" - -With Illustrations by Harrison Fisher and George Brehm - - -[Illustration] - - - - - - -New York -Dodd, Mead and Company -1910 - -Copyright, 1910, by -William Hamilton Osborne - -Published April, 1910 - - - - -_TO_ -W. H. O., Jr. _and_ F. S. O. - - - - -ILLUSTRATIONS - - -"Just a stroke of the pen, dear, and my -father will be free" (page 279) _Frontispiece_ - - -It was a mere wisp of a girl who confronted him, 14 - -If only he had dared ... he would have drawn -the dainty head of Leslie Wilkinson down on -his shoulder and would have kissed her then -and there, 76 - -"We've got a long fight ahead, Leslie--a running -fight, as Colonel Morehead calls it, but I'm -ready", 370 - - - - -I - - -Once, twice, thrice,--failing miserably in his attempt to appear -unconcerned,--Ilingsworth paced back and forth in front of Peter V. -Wilkinson's big house in Riverside Drive. There it stood: a massive, -forbidding, modern pile of limestone, wholly unlike anything in its -vicinity. And yet, now that the time had come, Ilingsworth's face wore -a confused, half-fearful look, a sense of uncertainty possessed him, -which was all the more maddening because so far, at least, there had -been no obstacles or delays in this brief, turbulent journey of his; on -the contrary, all had gone well with him, and like a falcon in pursuit -of its prey he had sped on the straightest of straight lines towards a -person of the name of Leslie Wilkinson, and this person, so Ilingsworth -assured himself, would soon feel his claws. - -From a distance, it is true, Wilkinson's imposing structure had -differed little from that which his imagination had led him to expect. -It was like the pictures he had seen of it many times in the papers; -so like, in fact, that even now in his extremity he could feel the -strange, exultant pride he had experienced but a few short months ago -when exhibiting to Elinor a counterfeit presentment of it in a monthly -magazine. And, certainly, he had every right to be proud, at least, so -he thought then,--for was not he, Elinor's father, Giles Ilingsworth of -Morristown, a close business associate of Peter V. Wilkinson, the great -financier? His business associate! Ugh! The very thought of it now made -him shiver, tortured him. Indeed, to such an extent that, on nearing -the place, his vengeful purpose was kindled anew, and his right hand -took a fresh grip on an object of sinister shape hidden in his pocket. -At that moment Ilingsworth had but one idea: to get it over with as -soon as possible. - -But once actually in front of the Wilkinson mansion, when his eyes -sweeping upward had failed to catch the point of view of the press -photographers, a feeling akin to panic had come over him; and he had -passed and repassed, unable to force himself to the point of making -an inquiry of a passerby. And yet, what could he do to make certain? -And then, as if in answer to his half-smothered cries of "Is this -Wilkinson's? There must be no mistake ..." there fell on his ears the -raucous squeal of a megaphone, and, turning whence came the sound, -he beheld a crowded tourists' sight-seeing car rolling slowly and -laboriously along the Drive, its interlocutor busily engaged in the -practice of his genteel profession. - -"We now perceive the palatial residence of Peter V. Wilkinson, the -multi-millionaire--the ten-million-dollar steal trust--so-called from -the habit of its owner in stealing trust companies." - -This exceptionally brilliant play upon words was instantly rewarded by -a titter from some of the occupants of the car, and the perpetrator, -encouraged, proceeded: - -"This house contains no less than eighty-four rooms; has twenty-four -bathrooms, not to speak of the Turkish bath; has paintings worth a -million or two; the rugs cost half a million, at least; and nearly a -million pounds of bronze has been used in its construction. Wilkinson's -second wife--Maggie Lane, when he married her, now Mrs. Margaret Lane -Wilkinson,--is said to be the handsomest woman in the block." He paused -to heighten the effect of what was to follow; then trumpeted: "That -is, on this end of the block. Peter V. Wilkinson owns seventeen trust -companies in the City of New York. He is president of the famous, and -now notorious, Interstate Trust Company which closed its doors last -week. Also president of the Tri-State Trust--the largest trust company -in the world, now toppling on the brink of the precipice...." - -So the voice droned on, the car laboured on, and the passengers, -already sufficiently gorged with Wilkinson's affairs, would have been -spared any further enlightenment had not the eye of this dispenser -of metropolitan information lighted upon Ilingsworth as the latter, -trying to escape attention, stepped into the low-arched doorway of the -Wilkinson home. The opportunity was too good to be lost. - -"The gentleman," proceeded the privileged lecturer, "now entering -this impressive imperial mansion, is not Peter V. Wilkinson. Note -the sinister expression of the back of his head and the peculiar -attitude of his right arm!" The megaphone turned itself directly upon -Ilingsworth, and kept on: "He looks like a disgruntled depositor of the -Interstate Trust Company--what if he be making a call for the purpose -of putting a pill into the proprietor? What?" - -Ilingsworth turned an involuntary, startled glance toward the car. -Despite a desperate effort at self-control, he was visibly alarmed, -and jerked his hand swiftly from the confines of his pocket. Amidst a -chorus of laughter at his action the car rolled on. Ilingsworth turned -back to the entrance of the house, muttering to himself: - -"They little know, they little know...." - -Presently he pulled himself together and pressed the button with that -same right hand, then squared his shoulders, once more dropping both -hands at his side. There was a short interval of waiting, during which -he kept repeating to himself, as though conning some essential lesson: - -"Leslie Wilkinson--Leslie Wilkinson, that's the man I want to see." - -Suddenly a heavy door was swung open inward and a butler stood before -him, bowing. - -"Leslie Wilkinson," demanded Ilingsworth somewhat explosively. There -was no prefix to the name--Ilingsworth was not considering the -conventionalities. He had come fresh from the confidential reports of -Wall Street detectives. Those two words had seared themselves into his -brain. - -The butler looked surprised, shocked, that is, so far as his rigid -training would permit. - -"Leslie Wilkinson," he repeated doubtfully, as though already -hypnotised into the other's trend of thought. - -"Leslie Wilkinson," said Ilingsworth, "and right away." - -The servant bowed. - -"Who shall I say, sir?" - -Ilingsworth smiled. It was all too easy, so it seemed. He felt as -though the fates were with him, as though before him lay the path -to victory. His breath came short and fast as he thought of the -possibilities: for if he should succeed, Elinor forever would be -safe--could take her rightful place in society. - -"There's my card," he said, drawing forth his wallet. - -Instantly the butler became obsequious, for not only did he perceive -that the visitor bore himself as a gentleman, but he recognised the -card as an open-sesame to his master. He handled it with infinite -respect. It read: - - MR. GILES ILINGSWORTH - - _Vice-President of the - Tri-State Trust Company, - New York._ - -"Your pardon, sir," said the butler before he closed the door, and -With a nod of the head towards the street. "Your car--does it need -attention, sir? Our garage is only half a block away. Shall I send out -and tell your chauffeur, sir?" - -Ilingsworth's glance followed that of the butler's. A blue limousine -stood throbbing at the curb. It had evidently been there all the while, -though Ilingsworth had failed to observe it. - -"It's not my car," he returned brusquely. - -Again a puzzled look came over the servant's face, but concealing his -embarrassment, he closed the door. - -"Very good, sir," he said. "Kindly step this way." - -Ilingsworth followed him down the long hall to the entrance of a room -before which stood another servant. - -"Step into the reception-room, sir, if you please," said the butler. -But, to the astonishment of both men, the footman advanced and waved -them back, saying: - -"One moment, please, sir." And oblivious to the fact that Ilingsworth -was standing in the middle of the broad hall, he drew the butler to one -side, whispered in a confidential, off-duty aside: "You must not take -him in there. Put him somewhere else." - -"Why not?" asked the butler. "Who's in there?" - -The footman became inexcusably mysterious. He looked about him on all -sides to see that he was unheard. Then he shaded his mouth with his -hand and placed his lips close to the other's ear. - -"Her," he whispered. - -The butler eyed the footman sharply. - -"Her!" he exclaimed. "Who's she?" - -"There's only one her," he answered, and pursed his lips as though -about to perpetrate an explosion. And then it came: "Miss Braine, of -course. Here's her card." - -The man who had admitted Giles Ilingsworth stiffened when he looked -upon this card, which read: - - MISS MADELINE BRAINE - - The Llandegraff - ----th Street and - the Drive. - -"Not the governor's ...?" - -"The same." - -"What's she doing here?" - -For answer the footman merely shrugged his shoulders. - -"When did she come?" asked the butler. - -"Ten minutes or so ago." - -"But I didn't see her come." - -"I let her in; you were downstairs." - -The butler came as near to a whistle as any butler on duty ever came. -What is more, in his agitation at this new and unexpected crisis, he -quite forgot the presence of Giles Ilingsworth, vice-president of the -largest trust company in the world. - -"There'll be the devil to pay if the missus sees her! Did she ask -for----" - -"She came to see the governor," interrupted the footman, shaking his -head; "and what's more, she says she's going to wait until he comes." - -The butler knitted his brows. - -"You were a fool to let her in! Is that her car outside?" - -"Don't you know it when you see it?" - -The mention of the car forced the butler's thoughts back to -Ilingsworth. He started toward the financier of the Tri-State Company -with abundant apology upon his lips. - -"I beg your pardon, sir ..." he began, and then stopped. For as he -passed the door of the reception-room he was able to peer into it, and -by some servant's trick to sweep every corner of it with his glance. It -was a room void of hangings, almost bare in its rich simplicity--one of -those triumphs of interior decoration. The butler's face was pale as he -retraced his steps and once more faced his fellow-servant. - -"There's not a soul in there--see for yourself." - -The other did see for himself, and he, too, looked bewildered. - -"But I put her in there, and I put her there to stay. I didn't leave -her for more than half a second. Where's she gone?" - -Instantly the butler took charge of the situation, and in commanding -sotto voce directed the other to look in the library, the music-room, -the Louis XIV. room, even in the grand salon. - -The search was conducted quietly and with decorum, and it is only due -to these two past-masters of the art of footmanship to say that this -dialogue had taken an almost infinitesimal space of time, that its -utterance had been practically inaudible, and that Ilingsworth, the -guest to whom these two had owed a very present duty, had not yet -begun to realise that his interests were in any wise neglected. - -But the footman came back disgruntled, disturbed, and wailing that she -was not to be found. And then it was that the butler stepped once more -to the side of Giles Ilingsworth and said somewhat contritely: - -"Beg your pardon, sir, but would you mind stepping into 'the Den,'" all -the while showing the way. "It's Mr. Wilkinson's favourite place, his -private room, sir, for seeing all his friends--business and otherwise, -sir--yes, sir." - -Ilingsworth followed where the butler led. And then, turning sharply -upon him, he repeated: - -"I'm waiting to see Leslie Wilkinson. Do you understand?" - -"Very good, sir." - -Alone in "the Den" Ilingsworth smiled as he looked about him. Fate -was surely favouring him. The Den was a quasi-business office and -smoking-room, a room where anybody might be interviewed by anybody -of the household. It was in this room that Tiffany's man displayed -his biggest, newest jewels to Mrs. Peter V.; it was in this room that -Mrs. Peter V.'s women friends would drop in evenings for a chat with -Peter V. as he smoked a black cigar; it was the comfortable place of -the whole, big house. But to Ilingsworth it was something more: it -was the place best fitted for the arena of events as events had shaped -themselves. "The Den" had but one window--a high window that ran along -one side of the wall just underneath the black-beamed ceiling and -just above a long, comfortable, leather seat that ran along the wall. -The window was above the head of an ordinary man, and was composed of -leaded glass. It gave but little light, and afforded no view at all of -the world without. For the rest, there was a big, flat-topped desk, -heavy, leather-covered lounging-chairs, and heavy, dark red curtains -everywhere about the walls. And but a single door. - -"The place I've dreamed about," Ilingsworth thought to himself. For an -instant he stood drinking in all of its details in some sort of gleeful -ecstasy--the ecstasy of a man who feels the end of the journey near. -And then, suddenly, he became all action. He stepped to the desk upon -which stood a desk-telephone upon a standard, and a small mahogany -tablet with two push-buttons on its surface. - -"I can't understand why it's all so easy," he told himself; and the -next moment he drew from his left coat-pocket a pair of wire-cutters, -and with two sudden, jerky twists of his right wrist he clipped the -flexible green-covered wires that connected the push-buttons and the -telephone, and twisted the unconnected ends down and out of sight. -It was his first advent in this house of Wilkinson, and yet he had -rehearsed the scene in his waking hours and in his sleep so many, many -times, that he did it without nervousness and without fear. So that -he was not surprised to find himself more than practise-perfect. He -glanced about the room for evidences of other wires, buttons, bells and -speaking tubes, and then swooped down upon the door. - -"If only it has a key!" he thought; and the next moment he almost cried -out joyfully, for he found that it had not only a key, but that it -might be bolted from the inside. - -"And when it's bolted," he assured himself, "What sound can penetrate -beyond its walls?" - -Beyond its walls! The phrase, somehow, kept ringing in his ears; to him -there was music in it. He never thought of the walls themselves; nor -had he ever asked himself whether behind those rich and heavy hanging -curtains there might not be other means of exit. - -He took his place behind the open door. - -"Now for the crisis," he said calmly to himself. - -And plunging his hand once more into his coat-pocket he produced -a gun--a modern, hammerless revolver that he had selected with -considerable care, after consulting the advertisements in the -magazines, and after reading the booklets of their makers. This gun -he had selected, not only on account of its particular efficiency, -but also because of its remarkably repulsive look. It bore the same -formidable appearance compared with the large family of fire-arms as -the bull-dog does to his canine race. It was a weapon of peculiarly -terrifying appearance--and that was what he wanted. For the rest, it -was a .32 calibre, and upon its handle it bore the maker's name and -a number--a number that belonged to this particular weapon and to no -other weapon of this make in the whole wide world. - -Suddenly the sound of footsteps in the hall without reached his ears. -Every nerve tingled with his purpose; every muscle became rigid and -alert. - -"Now!" he exclaimed. - -" ... Wilkinson," said the voice. - -It was a mumbled announcement of some sort which came from the butler. -Ilingsworth waited until he had retreated, and only when he was certain -that but one figure had entered the room, was looking about in wonder -at its apparent emptiness, did he slowly, swiftly close the door, lock -it, bolt it, and finally place his back against it. Then, levelling the -weapon, he extended it toward the person who had entered. - -"Seat yourself at that desk," he commanded, a dangerous note in his -voice; "and don't make any outcry, or I'll----" - -He stopped short and lowered his weapon. - -"Why--I----" he stammered, growing red-faced as he spoke. - -It was a mere wisp of a girl who confronted him--a girl full-throated -and full-bosomed, and upon whom the gods had conferred that dazzling of -all dazzling charms: light hair and dark brown eyes. Fascinating she -was even to Ilingsworth, bewildering, too, as she gazed upon him in -sudden fear, her eyes widening, her lips parted. - -"I--I beg your pardon," he stammered, consternation making it difficult -for him to speak. "I was expecting quite another person--Leslie -Wilkinson." - -Too frightened to reply the girl merely stood and gazed at him. For a -moment she remained thus, and then, with the shudder of one who shakes -from her some horrible nightmare, she found her voice and said: - -"Why, I'm Miss Wilkinson--Leslie Wilkinson!" - -Ilingsworth could hardly believe his ears. - -"You--you are Leslie Wilkinson!" he broke out. "Surely there must be -some mistake. Leslie is a man's name, isn't it?" - -[Illustration: It was a mere wisp of a girl who confronted him] - -The girl struggled to regain her composure. Dumbfounded and confused -though he was, Ilingsworth saw this, and with a hasty movement -thrust the revolver behind his back. And still facing her, he retreated -to a small table at the far corner of the room, and leaned against it, -thus concealing the weapon. In a measure this action of his reassured -the girl. Her countenance broke into a tremulous smile, though her -breast rose and fell tumultuously and her breath came in gasps. - -"Yes," she replied in an endeavour to gain time, "Leslie is a man's -name except when it happens to be a girl's name, too. My name is -Leslie--I'm a girl--you see." - -But again terror seized her. The man before her was undoubtedly insane, -she thought, and she glanced widely about the room for some avenue of -escape. There was only the door, and like some startled, wild thing, -she broke into a run toward it. But half way across the room she -halted, throwing over her shoulder a glance of fear toward Ilingsworth, -and then slowly retreated to her position at the desk. - -"Please don't shoot!" she pleaded. "I promise you I won't try to get -away!" - -Slowly, cautiously, Ilingsworth stretched forth his left hand. It was -evident that he did not wish to frighten the girl. - -"Don't be afraid," he assured her, and so quietly and courteously now -that it seemed to the girl as if another man was speaking. "I'm not -going to shoot--I shall stay right where I am, don't fear. If you wish -you may go now." But as she started to go he leaned forward and said: -"You're free to go,"--there was a pathetic note in his voice now,--"but -I would like to tell you something--to explain my presence here. I -came here looking for Leslie Wilkinson--the son of Peter V. Wilkinson, -and----" - -"But," she interrupted, in a puzzled way, "but my father has no -son--I'm his only child." - -Ilingsworth bowed his head. - -"I know that now," he answered, "but I didn't know it before. I was -looking for a conspirator of Peter V. Wilkinson's, and I thought I had -run him down. I thought I had, indeed.... You must not be frightened," -he went on hastily, "and don't think me crazy. I'm only horribly -nervous. I've been desperate for weeks. I wouldn't harm you for the -world--I have a daughter of my own. But you must hear me out--I've got -to tell this to somebody--somebody who believes me, or I'll go mad. No, -no," he pleaded, for she seemed about to leave him. "My name is--why, -here's my card--I'm----" - -"Oh, to be sure, Mr. Giles Ilingsworth, Vice-President of the -Tri-State," she said smilingly, giving a hasty look at the card in -his hand. "I remember, now, a quarter of an hour ago I wondered what -you might want with me. You see I dressed all up for you," and she -flashed a glance of coquetry toward him that was meant to captivate -and appease, for she was still under the impression that she was -dealing with an insane man: not for one moment did she believe that the -Vice-President of the Tri-State stood before her. - -Ilingsworth turned pale as he watched her. Although apparently -indifferent to her words, her marvellous self-possession and witchery -were by no means lost on him. With something of a pang he realised -that it was easily explainable. She was Wilkinson's daughter; she had -her share of his wonderful steadiness of nerve. He sighed. How many -times had he given thanks that Elinor was all woman, all heart, gentle, -yielding. And yet, how much better for her if she had some of the -qualities that Wilkinson seemed to have infused into his offspring. -Little did he know that Elinor was fashioned in his own mould; that -the dark-eyed, warm-faced girl that he had left at home had inherited -his impulsiveness, for he had been denied the even balance accorded to -other business men. Compared with the caressing tenderness of his girl -Elinor, this girl who faced him seemed, perhaps, too well-balanced. But -though he did not know it, he was mistaken: Leslie Wilkinson, though of -a different type, was fully as feminine. - -"Elinor," he groaned half to himself. - -"Mr. Ilingsworth," Leslie began, breaking in on his musings, "may I ask -what you want with Leslie Wilkinson?" - -Her question roused him. The blood forced itself into his temples until -the veins stood out like whipcords on his skull; desperation furrowed -his brow and lined his face. - -"I want nothing of Leslie Wilkinson except my own," he answered -sullenly. "There's a quarter of a million dollars that belongs to -me--a quarter of a million dollars--every dollar that I've got in this -world--every dollar that I ever had." - -"But," protested the girl, "I haven't your money." - -Ilingsworth raised his eyebrows. It was plain that he doubted her, -though she spoke with every indication of honesty and frankness. - -"You haven't any money, any stocks, bonds, deeds, or anything of the -kind?" - -"I have what my mother left me," was her quiet answer. "She died some -time ago." - -"How much was it?" he persisted. - -"Why do you ask?" she returned, annoyed. - -Ilingsworth made a gesture of impatience and again he asked: - -"How much was it?" - -"Less--than a million," the girl faltered. "About three-quarters, I -should say. I have the figures somewheres--but what is it to you?" - -The man brushed away her answer as though the three-quarters of a -million were a mere dross. - -"Tell me the truth!" he cried. "For heaven's sake don't lie to me! I'm -a broken man! You've got fifty million dollars, possibly a hundred -million standing in your name. What do you suppose I've spent my -last few thousands for but to get information that was reliable and -positive. I know Peter V. Wilkinson--and I'm the only one, I'll wager, -who knows the truth. Next week, next year, the world will say that -Wilkinson is bankrupt--without a dollar in the world. But I know--I've -found out. There is not another man in the world who could do the -thing he's done--strip a million people of their savings and hide it -so successfully. That's Wilkinson! Now whom could he trust--but you? -You've got it all!" - -The girl was pale, but there was a new light in her eyes. She began to -perceive that the man who confronted her was not a mere overwrought -specimen of mankind. However much he might be mistaken this time, he -was talking with the force of business habit. - -"You know as well as I, Mr. Ilingsworth, that I can't very well -discuss these matters with you," she said frankly. "My father is -ruined--I don't believe he will come out of this with a dollar. Who -is responsible for his ruin, I do not know." Little wrinkles creased -her forehead; she stopped uncertain how to continue. "It's the panic, -I suppose," she went on presently, "and he's gone down under it like -other Wall Street men. Only the blow--he suffered, perhaps, more than -the others." - -Ilingsworth's lip curled. - -"I know," he began emphatically, "I know that Peter V. Wilkinson is -still worth from fifty to a hundred million dollars--money sucked like -life-blood from the populace. I know that and more--his entire fortune -stands, in a manner and by a method that no one ever will suspect, in -your name. Your name, of course--whom else could he trust? Surely not -his second wife, with all that money? You know that well enough." - -"Mr. Ilingsworth, I----" - -"And because you had these millions," went on Ilingsworth hurriedly, -excitedly, "among them my quarter of a million, not mine, but -Elinor's,--do you know what that means to her?" - -Leslie was strangely affected. She felt her consciousness vacillating -between a sense of danger and a sense of pity. Surreptitiously, during -the first part of the interview, she had pressed the button for -assistance, and had discovered, later, the disconnection of the wires. -Just what to do she did not know. Above all, she realised that she -must propitiate this man--this man with the grievance, real or fancied, -whose statements, if true, gave her the desire to hear more; if untrue, -rendered him all the more a man of danger. Impulsively she held out her -hand, and said softly: - -"Do tell me about your daughter--Elinor--Mr. Ilingsworth." - -Immediately Ilingsworth dropped his air of aggressiveness. He advanced -slowly toward her, his right hand still in his coat-pocket, but, as -he approached her, he drew forth that hand, and with it, a small -photograph. - -"That's Elinor,"--he said, his face lighting up wonderfully,--"as she -was about a year ago--about the time I met your father. If I had known -that you existed, I should have wished that she could know you." - -Leslie took the picture from his hand and looked long and intently at -it. To her surprise she saw that this was no ordinary face. The girl -was evidently petite, with an expression on her face that seemed to ask -for the world's fond protection as well as its admiration; a girl with -her soul in her eyes, at any rate, so it seemed to Leslie. - -"Oh, she's pretty!" she exclaimed. "But someone must always take care -of her--always, always." - -"You've said it, though I never even thought it!" he cried. "And you, -a stranger, see it--that appeal for protection, that wistfulness, -that----" Abruptly he stopped and glanced quickly toward the heavy -hangings on the wall toward the right--a strange, startled glance it -was. - -Leslie followed the direction of his gaze wonderingly. - -"I had a feeling, somehow," he said, fastening his steely grey eyes -suspiciously on her, "that we were not alone." - -And indeed Ilingsworth would have been all the more startled had he -known that his fancy embodied the truth. For behind the dull red -curtains breathed a mortal who had heard, had seen, everything. - - - - -II - - -However successful Ilingsworth believed he had been in his effort -to persuade himself that his intuitive faculties had been at fault, -when they warned him of some alien presence in the room, it must be -acknowledged that he continued to look a little tentatively. At length, -however, his uneasiness wore off, and his manner, while again holding -out the picture for Leslie to look upon, softened so perceptibly that -it would have given one the impression that his visit there was more -in the nature of a social call than the tempestuous errand of business -vengeance that it was. - -"I wish you had known her," Ilingsworth said; "and I'm rather surprised -that you don't. We're Morristown people, you know, and Elinor, well, -Elinor's friends are all very nice people. Even in New York, she----" - -Leslie's eyes sought the ground. - -"We go out very little here," she said. "Of course I have my friends, -and there was a time.... But since my father married a second time, -why----" This girlish confidence trailed off into uncertainty. She -handed back the photograph. "But I should like to know her," she -declared with sincerity. - -"I wish you did," he began, and then added, "even in the light of -present things, I wish you did." - -In the silence that followed Leslie fell to wondering about the man -before her, and it did not take her long to decide that she liked him. -He was not, it is true, of the same shrewd, practical mould as her -father. But she recognised that he had the high-strung temperament, so -often a characteristic of the aristocrat. The sense of fear was fast -leaving her. - -"I--I'm going to apologise," he began at length, "for the fright I've -given you, though my purpose hasn't flagged. And if I had a man to deal -with--if I had met Peter V. Wilkinson, face to face again, who knows -but the demon in me would come once more to the fore. You say you can't -understand. Let me explain to you how it was: Up to thirteen months ago -we, Elinor and I, had a quarter of a million dollars--that means nearly -fifteen thousand dollars a year. And fifteen thousand in Morristown -means decent living--even here in New York it would mean that. Then I -met Wilkinson." His face grew livid, his hand clenched. "May heaven -forgive me, why didn't I understand it was my quarter of a million that -this vampire----" - -The girl drew herself up and quickly interrupted him. - -"Mr. Ilingsworth, I must remind you that you are speaking of my father." - -There was no mistaking her anger. Her eyes blazed, and it seemed to -rouse the tiger in him. - -"Yes, I'm speaking of your father!" he cried. "And if you've never -heard the truth before, you will hear it now. Moreover, if I am any -judge of human nature, you'll know whether I am stating facts or -otherwise. Thirteen months ago Peter V. Wilkinson sought me out. I -thought I was seeking him,"--he laughed bitterly,--"but I was wrong. -He sought me out and placed me high up in his companies. I was -successful--which meant that he had succeeded in his scheme. I did not -see it then; but now I know that the man who is willing to stoop low -enough to rope in the pennies of the Bridgets, the Michaels, the Lenas, -and the Gustaves, of this world, is a man who would spend his time and -money to get my quarter of a million--mine and Elinor's--in his grasp. -But then I was flattered. It meant big salary and big dividends for me, -at least, so I was assured." - -He faltered for an instant, and then went on: - -"I was a fool--a fool, not to see it all before. The result is that now -I haven't got a dollar--we're penniless." - -"My father," returned the girl, calmly enough, "will have less than -that, when all is said and done. This house, though it's in the name -of Mrs. Wilkinson, will have to be sold, I presume. I don't see why you -make a fuss over it--it was the panic, wasn't it? Everybody went down -before it. That is, a great many Wall Street men are bankrupt. So, why -do you complain?" - -"I complain because your father has got my quarter of a million--either -he's got it, or you have." - -"I told you before that I have none of my father's money. I have my -mother's money only--less than a million, that's all." - -"The panic!" went on Ilingsworth bitterly, ignoring her protest. "Yes, -that's just like Wilkinson to lay it to the panic! That's what they all -do! I tell you the panic was not the cause; it was the excuse. I wonder -if you have ever stopped to realise what a trust company is for?" - -"Why, to save people's money, of course," was the girl's ready answer. -"Just like a bank, isn't it?" - -Ilingsworth almost snorted. It was a strange colloquy, this -conversation between the man of middle age and the girl. It had a -curious interest that neither could have defined. The girl, on her -part, felt that Ilingsworth represented, somehow, the criticism and -abuse that the world was heaping on Peter V. Wilkinson. She wanted to -estimate its full force, to weigh its import, and then to defend her -father with every fibre of her being; Ilingsworth, on the other hand, -felt the need of a confidant who would understand, for Elinor of the -wistful eyes could only sympathise. This young woman knew what he was -talking about. - -"Miss Wilkinson," he burst out now, "you surprise me! I thought you -were more of a business woman than I am a business man. But I find -you're not. Let me explain it to you. Jones wants to run a factory; -Smith wants to speculate in real estate; Robinson wants to buck the -Wall Street game. Now they haven't got a dollar, so what do they do? -They buy a trust company." - -The girl opened her eyes wide. - -"That's nonsense!" she exclaimed. "How can anyone buy a trust company -without a dollar!" - -Ilingsworth's smile was full of meaning. - -"It's the kind of nonsense your own father has been dealing in for -years," he returned, placing his hand upon her arm. "They buy the -trust company, and put up its own stock as security for the purchase -price--then they go ahead. Jones runs his factory; Smith buys and sells -real estate; Robinson bucks the game upon the Street...." - -"And without money?" reiterated the girl, still incredulous. - -"_With money_," corrected Ilingsworth, his voice even and unexcited -now, "with the money of Mike and Bridget and Carl and Sophy, depositors -who put their hard-earned dollars in to get a few cents interest--two -per cent., to be exact--while Jones and his crowd are making two -hundred per cent. on the money. But Jones isn't through--he wants more. -So he and his crowd buy another trust company, put up the stock of the -first as collateral, or any way you please,--there's no end to the -game,--and this crowd go on with their speculation, using the people's -money, and gathering in the cream. They never stop; and just so long as -everything is prosperous, so long are the trust companies sound. Then, -in the fulness of time, comes the panic,"--and with his clenched hands -he smote the top of the desk,--"smash!" - -The girl showed that she had been following him closely when she -maintained: - -"Still, that's only your point of view. At any rate, it was a venture, -and when the panic came--everybody goes under. These people don't -create the panic." - -Ilingsworth gritted his teeth. - -"I haven't finished!" he cried. "Out of all this crowd of Jones, Smith -and Robinson, there is always one man who understands the game. -He owns seventeen trust companies; he's milked them dry. He's been -_waiting_ for a panic; the panic comes. Now he throws up his hands, -tells the people he's been a fool with the rest, and shows up worthless -stock--waste-paper by the ton that he has bought for just nothing a -pound. But he's got _all_ that the people haven't got, and he's salted -it away. And that man's name is Peter V. Wilkinson." - -Leslie's face paled. - -"Mr. Ilingsworth," she cried sharply, "do you really believe all that -you've been telling me?" - -Ilingsworth stared her wearily in the face. - -"The Norahs and the Ludwigs, perhaps, don't mind losing their few -dollars," he replied vaguely; "but I want to tell you that when I--when -Elinor and I lose fifteen thousand a year--and how many years there are -ahead of us--it's killing! Killing! And you ask do I believe all that -I've been telling you?" He roused himself to sudden energy. "Believe? -Why, heavens and earth, I know, I know...." - -There was a pause in which Ilingsworth's eyes sought the floor. -Presently he looked up and held out his hand. - -"Miss Wilkinson," he said contritely, "for what I've done, or tried -to do this afternoon, I suppose you could have me put in jail--in an -asylum. If I had only myself to think of, I shouldn't mind. However, -I beg you to keep it to yourself, if you feel you can. I see things -clearer now...." - -Leslie took the offered hand. - -"But you weren't going to shoot Leslie Wilkinson, if he'd been a man?" - -Ilingsworth shook his head. - -"To tell the truth, Miss Wilkinson, I wasn't. My intention was to -frighten him...." - -"You succeeded admirably," she answered, with a frank laugh. Then she -added: "What were you going to frighten him into doing?" - -Ilingsworth's hand strayed to his forehead. - -"I was going to compel him to sign a check, turn over stock, restore to -me my quarter of a million, somehow." - -The girl smiled as she asked: - -"But how could he do it in this room? Surely you didn't expect him to -have any stocks or money here? And if he gave a check, you know payment -on it could be stopped the instant you had left. And, anyway, how could -you get out unscathed? I can't just see how you could...." - -Ilingsworth stared at her, fascinated. He felt his vision clear. He -realised now that she was right; that for weeks he had suffered the -curse of, the desperate; that he had been robbed of the one thing -that the desperate man needs--deliberation. He had possessed purpose, -force--the purpose to force the issue at the point of a murderous -revolver, but when it came to the execution.... And what about the -result? To what end would it all tend? Until now he had never thought -of that. - -"I believe you're right, after all," he said somewhat sheepishly, and -started toward the door. "May I ask you for your promise not to expose -me," he entreated, "for the sake of Elinor?" - -Leslie bowed her head. Now that it was all over, she was on the verge -of hysteria. "Mr. Ilingsworth, I won't say a word about it," she -promised, "unless the time comes when I think it necessary.... This -panic seems to have made us all half crazy--even my father seems so -most of the time. Good-bye!" - -Somewhat incoherently Ilingsworth murmured some grateful words, and -immediately after Leslie watched him silently and carefully unlock the -door and open it. The hall was deserted save for the presence of a -footman near the front entrance, and to him this long interview behind -closed doors was as nothing. These were parlous times in the house of -Wilkinson; strange goings and comings were the rule, not the exception. -Nothing was unusual. And so Ilingsworth passed out in safety, carrying -his purpose with him to the free air outside. - -But no sooner had he reached the middle of the sidewalk than there -swooped down upon him a horde of vagabonds, infinitesimal specimens of -humanity, and this mob of street gamins had but a single purpose, sang -but a common song: - - TRI-STATE TRUST COMPANY CLOSES ITS DOORS. - - BIGGEST SMASH ON RECORD. - -For weeks and months, perhaps, Ilingsworth had seen this coming, had -known that it was inevitable, and here it was, thrust into his face -in scare headlines that smelt to heaven! It smote him as with sudden -lightning shock. But the public announcement did more than shock him, -it turned him almost into a raving maniac. For an instant he stood -silent, regarding the clamorous morsels of humanity all about him, -clamorous for the smallest coin known to the Union. Then, with mighty -swings of his arms, he swooped upon them, shrieking: - -"Get out of my sight, get out of my sight, you ragamuffins!" - -The newsboys fled as far as the next corner. There they stopped, -clustered once again and jeered at him. - -Turning, Ilingsworth again faced the house of Wilkinson. - -"I'm tricked--tricked!" he cried. "Why did I give up so easy; why -didn't I force the girl...." For a moment he checked his half-frenzied -words, then he went on: "Peter V. Wilkinson, I'll even up with you, -somehow, yet!" - -In a few moments he had turned the nearest corner and disappeared. - -Back in the Wilkinson household, Leslie, almost exhausted, sank into a -chair. As she sat there, she perceived one of the footmen passing her, -bound from the rear to the outer entrance. - -"Jeffries," cried the girl, springing up, "tell Jordan that it will be -quite unnecessary to mention Mr. Ilingsworth's call to anyone. He came -to see me." - -"Very good, ma'am," returned the footman, passing on. - -"And Jeffries," she continued, "have you anything to do just now?" - -"Nothing, Miss Leslie," answered the man, "except to obtain the latest -extras for Mrs. Wilkinson. She's that particular about it." - -"Are there any extras now?" inquired the girl. - -The footman inclined his head toward the entrance to the house, through -which Ilingsworth had just made his exit. - -"Don't you hear them, Miss?" he asked. - -And indeed, at that moment, the yelping of the young street wolves -of Manhattan could plainly be heard. Leslie placed her hands over -her ears and fled incontinently up the broad stairs, disdaining the -services of the man at the lift, who rose expectantly as she started -past him. On reaching the first landing, she met Roy Pallister--little -Pallister, she always thought of him, and noting the consternation on -his countenance, she could not refrain from bursting into laughter. - -"Why, Mr. Pallister," she cried, "you look as if you had been shot out -of a cannon!" - -In a moment Pallister's look of worriment changed to one of temporary -happiness. He was an undersized little fellow, doing the duties of -his insignificant career with a gentle manner. He was her father's -household secretary, amanuensis, a paid servant, it is true; but -critics of the Wilkinson household always maintained two things: -first, that there was only one gentlewoman there--Leslie; and only one -gentleman--Pallister. Leslie liked him, yet she could not eradicate -from the humorous part of her nature the fact that Pallister was ever -like a shuttlecock, dancing his dignified but harried attendance now -upon Peter V. and then upon another member of the household, whose -demands were even more exacting. - -"Have you been shot out of a cannon, Mr. Pallister?" she persisted. - -Pallister turned his eyes away from hers: he didn't dare to look at -Leslie too long. To him she was just a bit too bewildering. After a -time his glance crept back to hers. - -"Yes, Miss Wilkinson," he said nervously, "and what's more, I've got to -come back directly and face the cannon's mouth again." - -Leslie touched him lightly on the shoulder; a thrill passed through the -young man's frame. - -"Never mind," she said smilingly, "I'm going up to spike the cannon for -you." - -On reaching the second floor she knocked gently, but persistently, at a -boudoir door. - -"Oh, who is it now?" came in a petulant, nasal voice from within. -"Come in, if you're coming; otherwise stay out!" And an expression of -something like pain crossed the girl's face as she entered. - -Sitting up in bed in a flowered-silk kimona, a lady was sipping a -claret cup. Year after year, like the Wilkinson mansion, the lineaments -and form of this lady had been portrayed in the press throughout the -country; and long after she was entitled to any claim to comeliness, -she had been heralded as one of the beauties of the universe. As a -matter of fact, her delicate form--if delicate form she had ever -possessed--had been wholly obliterated by a generous layer of -avoirdupois--lumps wherever the lumps were the least needed. - -"Oh, it's you, is it?" she snapped. - -Leslie groaned inwardly as she looked at the woman before her; -for this lady of leisure was the Maggie Lane mentioned by the -megaphone--Margaret Lane Wilkinson now, but still Maggie by nature--and -her step-mother! The girl's eyes moistened as she thought of her own -mother that she had known, and who had died a short time ago. For in -the case of Wilkinson the funeral baked meats had almost furnished the -marriage feast. - -"Anything I can do?" asked the young girl, forcing up the pleasant -little smile that was always part and parcel of Leslie Wilkinson. - -The lady of the flowered kimona did not respond at once, but kept her -eyes fastened on the door. - -"I told Jeffries to get those extras right away--he's been gone an -hour," she complained. - -Leslie could not suppress a smile when she saw the multitude of papers -that bestrewed the bed and floor, and before she could speak, the elder -woman went on, between sips of her claret cup, to say: - -"Oh, the disgrace of these failures! The terrible charges that -are made! I simply cannot stand it! A mere girl, like you, cannot -appreciate the strain of this thing on my nerves. And everybody thinks -of nothing but the strain on Peter; no one considers poor me----" - -"Oh, but you must not take it so to heart," said the girl with -well-feigned sympathy. "Everybody is failing now." - -"But I have looked these papers through and through," Mrs. Peter V. -went on, "and nowhere, nowhere have I been considered at all. Why, not -one paper has even mentioned my name to-day. For a month not one of -them has published a picture of me; yet they are full of pictures of -Peter V., this house, and of the Tri-State Trust Company offices. It -makes me sick--nobody thinks of me." - -At this moment the footman knocked at the door. Leslie stepped forward -and took the papers that he passed in, tossing them lightly on the bed. - -"Oh! Oh!" wailed Mrs. Peter V. as her eye rested on the headlines. "The -Tri-State has gone up! This is the end--the end of everything! Here, -Leslie, you take this paper, and I'll take that--we'll see whether -there isn't something in them about me." - - * * * * * - -On the floor below, no sooner had Leslie left the Den than there was -a rustle behind the heavy curtains, in that room, and presently they -were parted, and then, with a stealthy movement a woman stepped forth -into the middle of the room. - -Madeline Braine looked carefully about her, listened for an instant, -and then advanced still further toward the door. Her attitude was -watchfulness itself. - -"His daughter Elinor, a girl who needs protection!" she cried, with -an agitation born of fresh events, and then a half-sob broke from her -lips. "There are other girls who should have had care just as much--and -haven't had it." - -She glanced at her watch and started forward once again. - -"I can't wait!" she cried. "Why isn't Peter Wilkinson here?" - -For a moment it occurred to her to cross the hall to the -reception-room, and from there to summon a servant and give him a -message. She had had her own reasons, in the first instance, for -darting into Wilkinson's Den to hide. She well knew that her agreement -with Wilkinson forbade her to cross his threshold; but she intended to -make a crisis in her affairs as an excuse to him, and quite naturally -decided that there would be much less danger in the Den of her being -discovered by others than in the reception-room. Now, there were -reasons why she must not be found within this room: the interview -between Ilingsworth and Leslie Wilkinson made it impossible. And she -started to leave, but suddenly drew back. - -"Somebody's coming," she whispered to herself. And scarcely had she -retreated once more behind the concealing curtains of the Den when -Jeffries entered with an armful of the latest extras and laid them down -upon the desk. After that, he passed out, but events happened with such -unusual rapidity that Madeline Braine found herself again caught like a -rat in a trap behind the heavy curtains in the room. - -"It's just as well," she assured herself, as she waited there, every -minute expecting to get a chance to escape; but as it turned out, it -was not just as well for her. - - * * * * * - -Alone at last in the silence and solitude of her own apartments at -the top of the house, Leslie sat for some moments on the window-seat, -gazing out over the Hudson at the misty, dusky shore across the way. - -"I wonder," she mused, "if what this man Ilingsworth says is true. Is -it possible that my father----" she stopped abruptly. "No, no, it can't -be true," she went on; "my father wouldn't...." But the face of Giles -Ilingsworth rose before her, and she found herself searching his open, -honest countenance for some loophole of escape. Now his words rang in -her ears, and she felt that they were the words of a man who knew.... - -"Oh," she cried, "I must find out who is right, and who is wrong! I -must know about my father, and what he has done!" Presently, she leaped -to her feet, crossed to her dressing-table and picked up the photograph -of a man--a young man with a square chin and wonderful eyes--so she -thought--that looked her squarely in the face. - -"Eliot," she said softly, to the picture, "you're always honest with -me, are you not? You're honest with everybody. I wonder if you will -find out for me--the truth about my father." - -Now she drew the photograph nearer to her, and her eyes grew soft -and tender, and, for the time being, she forgot Ilingsworth and his -daughter Elinor; forgot the Tri-State Trust Company and its alleged -iniquities; forgot even her father, Peter V. Wilkinson. - -"Eliot, dear," she whispered, "I wonder what you would think of me, if -you knew that I did this?" Whereupon, she pressed her soft, warm, young -face against the pictured one. "Maybe you'll never know, though," she -went on; "maybe you'll never take the trouble to find out." - -Leslie laid down the photograph with a sigh, and, retracing her -steps to the window, was just in time to see a big Mastodon bring -up at the curb in the street below, from which four men alighted: -Peter V. Wilkinson, her father, looking very much exercised and -troubled; Flomerfelt, his confidential man; and, lastly, two Pinkerton -detectives, recently-acquired guards who were never far away whenever -he appeared in the open. - - - - -III - - -"What the deuce is that machine doing in front of my place?" were the -words that Peter V. Wilkinson spoke as his eyes lighted upon the dark -blue limousine that had been standing for so long a time before his -house. - -"Whose machine is it?" answered Flomerfelt, who had not yet recognised -it. But a moment more he emitted a whistle and whispered softly under -his breath: "By George, it's hers!" - -Wilkinson's eyes bulged with anger. - -"What does she mean by coming here?" He clutched Flomerfelt's shoulder -as in a vise. "You don't suppose she's come to see my wife, do you? -What's she up to? Why, I wouldn't have even little Pallister see her -for the world! And as for Leslie! Thunder and lightning, if Leslie -finds this out--anything but that!" - -Wilkinson started toward the blue machine, bent on interviewing the -chauffeur. - -"Look here, my man----" he began; but whatever imprecations he intended -to hurl at the chauffeur's head never passed his lips, for then it was -that something happened: a strange, dishevelled figure dashed suddenly -into the group, threw itself upon Wilkinson and seized him by the -throat. With almost maniacal energy the assailant forced Wilkinson up -against the blue machine, and digging his fingers into that gentleman's -wind-pipe, he cried: - -"Now, Wilkinson, I'm going to even up matters with you!" - -Wilkinson's face turned blue--almost as blue as the machine--and his -eyes bulged out almost like the headlights in front of it. - -"Help! Help!" implored Wilkinson, tugging at the wrists of iron that -held him. - -His call was quickly answered. And in an incredibly short space of -time, the Pinkerton men had broken the madman's grip and held him -fast. Wilkinson quickly regained his composure. Then half-wondering, -half-fearful, he riveted his eyes upon this enemy who seemed to have -dropped from the skies, while Flomerfelt came out from behind the -touring car where he had warily awaited the outcome of the sudden -onslaught. - -"So it has come to this! Why, Ilingsworth, what's the matter with you?" -ejaculated Wilkinson. "What have I done to you?" - -But before Ilingsworth could answer, the Pinkerton men had hustled him -into the Mastodon, and were holding him there. - -"Shall we surrender him, Mr. Wilkinson?" they asked. - -Wilkinson glanced at Flomerfelt, presumably, for advice. But when the -other was about to speak, Wilkinson evidently changed his mind, for -waving him aside with his hand, he strode to the side of the Mastodon -and looking Ilingsworth full in the face, after a moment's hesitation, -said: - -"Not yet; I don't want the authorities to have him yet. I may want to -talk to him first. Suppose you bring him into the house." And with -that, he turned on his heel, and, striding through the entrance to his -home, past his two footmen who were quaking in their boots, walked into -the arms of his daughter. - -"What's the matter, father?" she cried. - -Wilkinson brushed her aside, for the business of the moment was too -weighty. - -"Flomerfelt," he directed, in a low voice, "tell them to take -Ilingsworth into a reception-room--that one there, and hold him until I -send for him." - -Leslie took her father's arm and led him into the Den. With almost a -mother's anxious gaze she looked him over. - -"Are you hurt?" she inquired. "I saw--I could just make out -something--somebody attacking--it was all so quick--but I heard your -voice, and then I ran downstairs. But you're safe--safe!" and she -patted his arm affectionately. "Oh, what was the trouble?" - -Wilkinson sank down into his desk-chair. - -"Let me pull myself together first," he said. His heavy form sprawled -itself across the seat, and he panted with the unwonted fright he had -had. Now he lit a black cigar. - -"Confound it, Leslie!" he returned at length, "the man scared -me--blamed if he didn't. There was murder in his eyes." - -Leslie had not seen Ilingsworth, neither did she know that he was a -prisoner in another room. - -"Whose eyes?" she asked, eagerly. "What man?" - -Wilkinson turned his glance full upon her. - -"A man you never heard of, girlie--a man you never saw--a business man, -Giles Ilingsworth----" - -He got no further, for she was at his side now, her hand upon his arm. - -"Then he _did_ mean murder! He did, I know he did!" she exclaimed, -greatly excited. - -Wilkinson had been wiping his brow; this operation ceased with a start -and he searched her face. - -"How do you know he did, girlie?" he asked suspiciously. - -At that instant the lean and cat-like Flomerfelt entered the room and -stood beside the girl. Immediately, with a feminine aversion written on -her face, Leslie withdrew and stood in the doorway, still trembling and -afraid. - -"How do you know that he meant murder?" persisted Wilkinson. - -"I'll come back later, father, and tell you why," she said, leaving the -room, and hastening toward the staircase. - -Flomerfelt moved slowly in the direction of the door and watched her -go, then noiselessly retraced his steps, and seated himself opposite -the financier. There was no cringing in the manner of this confidential -man of Wilkinson's; on the contrary, his attitude toward his employer -was that of man to man. - -"The only decent thing about you, Peter V.," he said impudently to the -multi-millionaire, "is your daughter Leslie." - -Wilkinson's face plainly showed his annoyance, nevertheless he said: - -"Flomerfelt, it would be well for you to leave my daughter Leslie out -of this--out of everything, you understand?" - -Flomerfelt smiled. - -"Leaving her out, then, I will revise my former statement. There are -two good things about you: one is Flomerfelt, your very necessary -confidant; the other is----" he started to say "your chiefest luxury, -Miss Madeline Braine,"--but he didn't say it; for Wilkinson brought his -clenched hand down upon the desk with great force. - -"Come, get down to the business in hand! Remember that you are dealing -with Peter V. Wilkinson." He paused, and then added with a smile full -of meaning: "Despite his being a ruined bank president." - -Flomerfelt shook off his air of sinister sarcasm, squared his elbows on -the desk, and was all attention. - -"Now, then," continued Wilkinson, "what are we going to do with--with -this incubus Ilingsworth?" - -"Jug him, Peter! The man is dangerous--he's a bad one." - -Wilkinson pulled away at his black cigar. This was a problem and he -liked problems. Ilingsworth was in his power, and Wilkinson did not -intend to let his chance slip by. Just then his eyes chanced to light -on the scareheads of the extras on his desk: - -TRI-STATE TRUST COMPANY CLOSES ITS DOORS - -But the magnate felt no sensation on reading them. That very afternoon, -for that matter, he had seen thousands of them on the streets; and so, -they moved him not at all. Nevertheless, he tossed one to Flomerfelt. - -"Pretty serious predicament, eh, Flomerfelt?" he said easily. - -Coolly, Flomerfelt rose, reached over for a cigar and lighted it. - -"There are only two men in this city who can handle a situation of that -kind," he answered significantly. - -Wilkinson merely raised his eyebrows. - -"And these two," Flomerfelt continued, "have got to work together. If -they don't----" His eye caught the other's glance and held it. "If they -don't, chief, the devil take the hindmost." - -Peter V. Wilkinson laughed until he was red in the face. - -"You blamed upstart!" he burst out. "Do you think that Peter V. -Wilkinson isn't able to go it alone?" - -"I know he isn't," emphatically. - -Wilkinson sprang to his feet. - -"Why, you infernal idiot!" he shouted. "Who conceived the scheme -of transferring fifty millions of securities of my own to those -broken capitalists, Ellenbogen, Glackner & Gilroy, and of taking -over a hundred millions of wild-cat stocks! Who thought of having -the stock--the good stock, on the books, transferred to the names -of these three men, and then having them pass it over to an unknown -holder--Leslie Wilkinson! And who thought of sending these three men -to different parts of Europe, where they can't be found! Let those -who will, ask questions of me--you know what answer they'll get! Let -them ask questions of me!" he went on, swelling in the pride of -generalship. "My records show that I'm ruined. Let them ask questions -of Leslie Wilkinson--who's got the stuff, and who doesn't know she's -got it--what will they find out? Who else is there to ask? Three -inaccessible old fools who'll stay where we put 'em until it all blows -over. Who conceived that scheme? And who framed another that disposed -of thirty-five more millions? Tell me that, eh? Was it you?" - -Flomerfelt's smile was a sneer. In turn, he rose and looked his chief -full in the face, his own small, ferret eyes alight with contempt. - -"It may have taken a good man to conceive the scheme, but it took a -better man to put these things into execution, to----" - -Wilkinson laughed. - -"To do the dirty work," he interposed, contemptuously. - -Flomerfelt nodded. - -"Have it that way if you will, chief," he assented. "It's dirty work -any way you may put it. However, don't you forget one thing, it was I -that did it--and doing it, I did what no one else could do." - -For a brief interval the two men stood glaring at each other. It was -Flomerfelt who, at the last, lowered his eyes. - -"Well, have it so, Flomerfelt," Wilkinson was speaking now, "we won't -quarrel. Perhaps we do belong together--at any rate, you get pay -enough...." - -"No, not enough," Flomerfelt mused half-aloud, for his thoughts had -travelled through the closed door, into the hall without, had climbed -up the stairs and were centred on Leslie Wilkinson in the room above. - -Wilkinson resumed his seat. - -"What are we going to do with Ilingsworth," he began. "That's the first -proposition. You say to----" - -"Jug him," finished Flomerfelt. "Take the offensive. Make the first -move." - -Wilkinson snorted. - -"That's where your 'prentice hand shows up, just as I knew it would. -I'm going to let him go." - -Flomerfelt started. - -"What!" he ejaculated. - -Wilkinson grinned. Slowly he gathered together the newspapers littering -his desk and deposited them in the waste-basket. Then he turned to -Flomerfelt. - -"Now, you whippersnapper of an understudy," he paused a moment, "the -reason I'm going to let him go, _is because I'm going to lay the blame -of this whole thing on Giles Ilingsworth_. See?" - -Flomerfelt looked at the extras, at his chief, at the walls, the -hangings--now still as death they were--and at the floor. Then he rose -and paced the floor with that noiseless tread of his. Finally he -stopped, and swinging his lithe body about, once more faced his chief. - -"By George, Wilkinson, you're great!" he exclaimed. "Ilingsworth a -scapegoat! How did you ever think of it?" - -"_When_ did I think of it would be more to the purpose," returned his -chief, not without pride. "I thought of it as I think of everything--in -a flash--while you were trying to induce me to surrender him. -Somebody's got to bear the brunt of this--he's the new blood that's -wrecked us--he and his crowd, so why not he, eh? Why not?" - -Flomerfelt's thin lips widened into a diabolical grin. - -"How are you going to do it, Wilkinson?" - -His chief did not reply immediately. His hesitation made the other's -grin widen all the more. - -"I'll have to work that out, Flomerfelt," presently he said, "but I'll -do it. He might as well smart as anyone else. Besides, what will it -amount to, anyway? An investigation--censure--a few bribes--and---- The -rest of us can go to Europe and enjoy ourselves until it's blown over." - -"If it ever blows over," put in Flomerfelt. Then he stretched out his -arm and laid his long, lean fingers on the sleeve of Wilkinson's coat. - -"Peter V.," he said in a low voice, "I'll give you credit in this, as -well as in other things; but let me tell you something: while you've -been mumbling here, I've worked your idea out--sketched in the details." - -"You don't say!" cried Wilkinson. "Good boy! Well?" And he looked at -him questioningly. - -But Flomerfelt shook his head. - -"No, chief, I'll work it out myself. But I'll say this much, I've got a -hold on nearly every man in the Tri-State Trust Company, the Interstate -also. There are things to be done, things to be sworn to, and only I -know how...." He withdrew his hand. "The question is, Wilkinson," he -went on, "am I to get good pay?... This thing is more serious than you -think. It won't blow over, take my word for it. A million people in -three States are up in arms; what's more, District Attorney Murgatroyd -is up in arms, too." - -"You get paid well enough, Flomerfelt, I should think." - -"Not well enough," he declared. And again his thoughts went aloft to -the daughter of his chief. - -Wilkinson touched a button; in silence the two men waited for it to be -answered. In a somewhat irritated manner Wilkinson touched it again, -and thundered out: - -"What's become of the servants?" - -Flomerfelt leaned over in alarm. - -"The wires--the wires are cut!" he exclaimed. "The telephone is -disconnected," he went on, his face growing ashen with the fear and -mystery of it all. - -Wilkinson's excitement was evidenced by the manner in which he shook -his finger in the other's face, called him a fool, and ordered him -to go and fetch the servants that they might explain how the thing -occurred. And he ended with: "Go now, be quick about it!" - -At the door, Flomerfelt stopped. In the entrance was Leslie. - -"These wires have been tampered with!" he cried out to her. "Does -anybody in this house know how?" - -Leslie ignored the question, but instead she said: - -"Mrs. Wilkinson wishes to speak with you, Mr. Flomerfelt. You will find -her upstairs, in her boudoir." - -Flomerfelt bowed. - -"I'll go up with you at once," he told her; but Leslie shook her head. - -"No, you'd better go alone. I know about the wires. I came down -expressly to tell father about them." - -Flomerfelt reddened with annoyance, nevertheless he started to leave -the room. - -"I say," called out Wilkinson after him, "tell those Pinkertons to -drive Ilingsworth away down-town--take him to any place he wants to -go, set him loose. If he runs away, you understand, it will be all the -better for us. And if he doesn't, it will be all the worse for him." - -"I'll take care of it, Mr. Wilkinson," said Flomerfelt, adopting the -prefix that he used in the presence of a third party. "The plan is -yours; the details belong to me." - -With considerable trepidation Leslie approached her father. - -"You're not going to set that Mr. Ilingsworth free!" she begged. -"Father, don't do it! He's dangerous! I told you he had murder in his -mind--I saw it to-day." - -Little by little Wilkinson drew from her the whole story, with the -exception of her father's terrible arraignment by Giles Ilingsworth; -and that, for reasons of her own, she left out of her recital. - -"Come, come," demanded Wilkinson, shrewdly reading his daughter's face, -"you haven't told me everything! I want to know the rest." - -The girl looked away as she said falteringly: - -"The rest is nothing--really, there is nothing to tell." - -"If it's nothing, then you'd better tell it to me anyway," he -persisted. "Come, dear, what is it that you're holding back?" - -For a moment that seemed minutes to her father, Leslie hid her face -upon his shoulder, and did not speak. Finally she broke out with: - -"Only something that he told me that I know is false; but if you must -know, I'll tell you what he said...." - - * * * * * - -On the floor above, Mrs. Peter V. Wilkinson, still in her flowered-silk -kimona, received her husband's confidential man. - -"Sit there," she directed, pointing to a chair close to the sofa on -which now she was reclining, propped up by numberless bright-hued -silken pillows. - -Flomerfelt did as he was bid, not omitting to kiss the hand that she -had extended to him. - -"Now, Flomerfelt," she began, an anxious look on a face that was -usually expressionless, "I want to know just where I stand in all this. -For if there's going to be a crash, I want to know precisely what I've -got--that is, how much money?" - -Flomerfelt did not answer at once. - -"You know," he said slowly, "that it has not been the custom of Peter -V. to give money to his wife, rather, I should say, to put money in her -name. Like every other business man, he has always needed ready cash, -and----" - -"But how do I stand?" she interrupted, impatiently. "What have I got? -Tell me; I must know." - -"Well, to begin with, there are your jewels," he declared. "They are -worth thousands--perhaps hundreds of thousands." - -"And this house stands in my name, doesn't it?" she asked, brushing -away the question of a few hundred thousands. - -"It does," was his brief answer, but without enthusiasm. - -"And the house is worth at least ten million dollars, isn't it?" she -went on, with some show of satisfaction. "That's what it cost to build." - -Flomerfelt shook his head. - -"I should say that it cost much less." - -"What!" she gasped. "Why, everybody says it did. The papers...." - -Flomerfelt thought a moment. - -"I should think four million was an outside figure," he declared. "I -know Peter V. doesn't consider it worth more than that." - -"Well, four million is something, at any rate," she returned, -mollified. "I can live on that." - -Flomerfelt began to pace the room. - -"The difficulty with it, Mrs. Peter V., is that it is mortgaged. The -trust companies hold mortgages on it to the extent of five million -dollars, at least." - -Mrs. Wilkinson reached forth and drew him back into his seat. - -"Do sit down, Flomerfelt!" she cried; "and don't be a fool! What do -you mean by telling me that the property isn't worth more than four -million, and that, notwithstanding that, the trust companies have -loaned five million on it--more than its value? What trust company -would do a thing like that?" - -Flomerfelt's gaze took in the lady of the flowered-silk kimona from the -sole of her foot to the top of her head. - -"Um--such trust companies as the Interstate and Tri-State." He paused a -moment, and then added: "With such a man as Giles Ilingsworth handling -the reins----" - -"Giles Ilingsworth!" she broke in. "Who is Giles Ilingsworth? Why, I -never heard of him." - -Flomerfelt looked at her in well-feigned astonishment. - -"You never heard of Giles Ilingsworth! He was the power behind the -throne--the man who wrecked the companies--who did more, who wrecked -Peter V. Wilkinson." He made a movement to go. "There is nothing -further I can do for you, I suppose, Mrs. Peter V.----?" - -For the briefest of moments the lady gazed at him in silent -contemplation. Then motioning him again to sit beside her,--which -he did,--she drew his head down close to her lips, and patted it -affectionately. - -"Flomerfelt, you're a good friend of mine?" she said. - -Wilkinson's confidential man straightened up. - -"That depends on how good a friend you are of mine," he answered, -looking her full in the face. - -The eyes of Margaret Lane Wilkinson narrowed. - -"You do your best to see that I don't come out at the little end of the -horn, Flomerfelt--take care of my interests, even against----" - -"Even against Peter V. Wilkinson," breathed Flomerfelt. - -"Even against Peter V. Wilkinson," breathed the woman. There was a -pause, and presently she added: "On every occasion, no matter what the -question, I shall agree with you." - -"You forget to take into consideration that there's a girl named Leslie -Wilkinson, who----" - -She stopped him with a concluding gesture. - -"No, not for one moment have I forgotten her," she affirmed. "If the -worst comes to the worst, Leslie has enough to keep us both." - -Flomerfelt bent over her. - -"It's a bargain," he announced. "We'll seal it with a kiss." - -"Why, Mr. Flomerfelt, I never have kissed anybody except Peter V.," -she simpered, blushing all the while. - -"I couldn't help it," he told her on leaving, and passing through the -door, closed it gently behind him. On the second landing he stopped and -thought a while. "Not a bad scheme, that scheme of hers," he mused to -himself. "She doesn't altogether realise that if the time ever comes -when we fight Wilkinson, she and I, that we will be fighting a man -still worth a hundred million dollars. At any rate," he concluded, "my -game is first to fight for Wilkinson, and then--against him." - -Meanwhile, in her boudoir, the lady had hastened to the mirror to -contemplate her fairness. - -"He's not such a bad chap, after all, that Flomerfelt," she -acknowledged to herself. - - - - -IV - - -Peter V. Wilkinson in the Den below was having a bad quarter of an hour -with his daughter Leslie. For, truth to tell, there was no person in -the universe whose judgment he dreaded more than the judgment of this -girl who sat before him: it was his one passion to appear well in her -eyes. He had listened, with keen interest, to what she had to say, -invariably seeking her glance, at times leaning forward with unusual -intentness in order not to lose a single word. Time and time again -her words, unintentionally it is true, stung him to the quick. And -yet, he had not even gulped down his emotion. He had faced her, quiet, -calculating, with a countenance at times interested, at times amused. -Not once had he interrupted her; not once apologised. At the start he -had wondered just what he should say when she had finished, had thought -of denials, of indignation, of calling on the absent accuser for his -proofs; but as her tale unfolded, he merely continued to chew the -black, unlighted cigar that he held in his mouth. - -"Have you told me all?" he asked, glancing up at the high window with -its leaded panes. - -The girl, shamefaced, downcast, because of her doubts of her father, -flushed and nodded a "yes." - -Wilkinson smiled, and leaning across the table, looked her full in the -eyes. - -"Girlie," he told her, suavely, "you know I'm glad you told me this. I -want you to be just as frank in telling me everything else that bothers -you--especially about myself. I'm glad you told me this," he repeated, -"because, because it's true." - -The girl jumped up from her seat, and exclaimed incredulously: - -"True! Father, it can't be true!" - -He waved her back again to her chair, took a fresh cigar, lighted it, -and then said squarely: - -"It's the Gospel truth. With just one exception--an immaterial -correction that I want to make--what you have said is fact, only you've -got the wrong sow by the ear." - -"The what!" stammered the girl. - -Wilkinson waved a deprecating hand. - -"I should have said that your story is all right, but it's told about -the wrong man," he explained. - -Leslie's eyes sparkled. - -"Then you mean to say----" - -"I mean to say," interrupted her father grimly, "that the man who -concocted that very clever scheme was not myself, but quite another -person." - -"You don't mean Mr. Flomerfelt?" she put in quickly. - -Wilkinson rose, his eyes blazing with righteous indignation. - -"Who understands the methods of a thief better than a thief! Who can -tell you how to rob a bank so well as the thug who robbed it! Leslie, -the man who tried that scheme," he went on with great emphasis, "and -who, trying it, dragged us all to ruin, is the man who told you his -story in this room to-day. It is Giles Ilingsworth of the Tri-State -Trust Company." - -Leslie fell back before him in astonishment. - -"I--I can't believe it," was all she could say. - -Wilkinson laughed gently, generously. - -"I don't ask you to believe it, girlie. But let me ask you a question: -A year ago, did you ever hear my trust companies questioned? was there -any doubt of the integrity of the Interstate and Tri-State?--you -know there wasn't. Well, thirteen months ago we took on this Giles -Ilingsworth--new blood, you understand--who brought in a whole lot -of new bloods with him. We didn't understand then that he was a -get-rich-quick proposition." Wilkinson chuckled in spite of his -indignation. "We believed, rather, that he was an honest, sober-minded, -experienced chap, solid and, well, I thought I could take my ease, -thought I had a man who would run things right and let me have the fun -I've earned so hard. I let him go his gait. And what did he try to do -for us? Just what he accused me of doing this afternoon." - -Wilkinson sank into his chair and covered his face with his hands. -Leslie darted around the corner of the big desk and threw her arms -about him. - -"I knew--I knew----" she sobbed in her joy. She pressed her young, fair -face against his grizzled jowl. "My father ..." she whispered softly to -him, as though to some lover, "my father, will you believe that I never -really doubted you? It sounded so true on the instant----" - -Wilkinson drew her to his knee and kissed her. - -"I don't wonder you believed him, girlie," he said after a while. "Why -shouldn't he fool you, when he fooled your old father." - -The girl still clung to him, but Wilkinson felt the strain beginning to -tell, felt that his face was growing ashen with fatigue, and now that -it was over he needed solitude. So he placed her lightly on her feet, -and tapping her affectionately on the shoulder, said: - -"Run along now, girlie. And on your way out you might tell Jordan -that I'm not to be disturbed for fifteen minutes--not even by that -Flomerfelt, who seems to be wandering around upstairs in our private -apartments. That man gets on my nerves so that I can't think." - -After Leslie had gone, for some moments Wilkinson, in silence, puffed -away at his black cigar. Then, with considerable deliberation, he -rose, went over to the door, and locked and bolted it. Absorbed in his -thoughts, he remained standing there for a long time. When he turned -back toward the desk, a woman stood there, facing him--a woman, young, -tall, slender, with very dark hair and dark blue eyes, a woman with a -strange mixture of hope and trouble in her eyes. - -Wilkinson's face paled; he was angry through and through. Nevertheless -he struggled to appear calm. - -"Confound it, Madeline," he said tactfully, "I forgot all about you. -This blamed excitement put it all out of my head." But in the next -breath his manner changed, and he burst out with: "What the deuce is -your car doing at my door?" - -"Your car, not mine," she reminded him gently. - -He shrugged his shoulders. - -"It happens to be yours," he corrected, "for I gave it to you, didn't -I?" - -"We won't go into that," wearily she replied. - -Wilkinson looked her sternly in the eye. - -"We'll cut out the question of ownership. What's more to the point, is, -what the devil you're doing in my house? If you wanted to see me, why -didn't you wait for me to come to you? My wife is upstairs," he went on -severely, "and my daughter all around the place. They probably both -know you, even though they don't know.... You might have waited----" - -"I couldn't do that," she answered, faltering. "I--I had to see you, -and I couldn't wait. Do you suppose I would have come here--to your -home--if there hadn't been some urgency about it. I wrote; you did not -answer." - -"The Tri-State kept me on the jump," he half apologised. "I had no time -to read love letters----" - -"Love letters? Indeed!" she interjected, and then went on: "I called at -the Trust Company office to see you, sent messages, called you up on -the 'phone, but to no avail. I had to see you even at the risk of your -displeasure. Besides, no one has seen me but you." - -Wilkinson started. - -"You've been here in this room all the time--what?" - -"Behind those curtains," she informed him, emphasising her words with a -nod toward them. - -Wilkinson advanced on the woman as if he were about to strike her, for -now he knew that she had been spying upon him, had been a witness to -Flomerfelt's confidences, had listened to the colloquy between Leslie -and himself; but, making a great effort, he checked his mad impulse, -and, instead, endeavoured to make no point whatever of her presence -there. He knew Madeline Braine's comprehension of business schemes was -nil. To direct her attention to anything she had heard would be unwise. - -"You couldn't have chosen a better place," he told her genially. - -And then it was that suddenly something seemed to snap within his -brain. The terrible excitement of the past few weeks was beginning to -tell on him; a wild yearning to escape all further responsibility, to -rove free, careless, reckless, took possession of him. The woman before -him was lovely to look upon, he liked her, and why not chuck the whole -game, so he termed it, take her away with him, anywhere, to South -America, to the ends of the world? - -"Why not?" he exclaimed, touching her on the shoulder. - -The woman looked at him, surprised. - -"I say, Madeline," he went on, happily, "I've been so busy of late -that I haven't seen as much of you as I would have liked. Besides, you -were good enough to be out the last two times I looked you up. Do you -know," he was close to her now, his hot breath upon her face, "I don't -think I ever loved you quite as much as now. Suppose I take a rest from -business, and we'll take a ten-days' trip in the _Marchioness_. We'll -have a bully good time! Come, Madeline, say the word, and I'll do it." - -Madeline eluded his amorous embrace, and slipping to the side of the -desk placed upon it a small black bag. - -"One of the things, Peter V.," she said quietly, "I came for, was to -bring these back." - -Wilkinson looked at the bag inquisitively. He wondered what surprise -she had in store for him, and smilingly proceeded to open it. - -"Jewels!" he exclaimed, eyeing her for a moment in uncertainty; and the -next moment his hand brought forth a handful of rings. - -"Yes, those and the automobile," she faltered, forcing the words out, -"I want to give them back to you." - -The man broke suddenly into a good-natured, affectionate laugh. - -"You've been reading the papers, I see, and thought the old man was -down and out. You were going to put up your jewels and truck to help me -out? Well, I'll be----" He caught her hand impulsively. "Say, Madeline, -you're a good sort, and no mistake about it!" And now, snapping the -little bag together, he passed it back to her. "But you're all wrong, -my dear, I'm not strapped--not much! This is between ourselves, though, -understand. You keep your jewels, and the car, too. There's many a good -time coming to us yet. Don't you worry, now--and don't forget that I -appreciate your goodness to me. I do, indeed." - -"You don't understand me," she said, retreating under his advances. "I -brought these back to you, because I'm going to break with you. I----" - -Wilkinson looked at her dumbfounded. - -"Break with me! What? Surely you're joking. Why, no woman ever broke -with Peter V. Wilkinson voluntarily. I've broken with a score or more, -but this is a new one on me. Break with me? What for?" He leaned back -against his desk. - -There was nothing more to say; the girl had spoken in finality. She -drew herself up to her full height and looked down upon him. And as she -stood there in all her slenderness, she had never seemed more beautiful -to him. - -"I think I understand now," presently he said, white with anger. "You -really thought, like the rest, that I was a sinking ship; and you were -going to desert me, like the rats, before I sank. That's the idea, is -it? Well, you're mightily mistaken, my girl." And now he held out his -hand to her in appeal. "You don't want me to prove that I'm as sound -as a dollar, do you? For I can and will." And then he went on to tell -her that he had all his money stowed away. "I have, for a fact," he -concluded; "but this is in confidence. And now you won't leave me, will -you? Somehow, I can't let you go." - -"Peter, I thought I might be able to do this without telling you the -truth," she said, with a note almost of tenderness in her voice. "But I -see I've got to make myself plain to you. I'm going to break with you -for the reason that--that there's someone else." - -The words fell dully on his ears. - -" ... Someone else," he repeated. He looked at her long and searchingly -before continuing: - -"But how can there be anyone else? I've got all the money that there -is in little old New York! What more do you want? Who else----" And -then, without waiting for a reply: "It isn't Wilgerot? No? Then it's -Debevoise?" - -She shook her head. - -"Look here, Madeline, it isn't that Dumont Mapes?" he cried. "You -wouldn't shake me for a rake like that, would you?" - -"I can't tell you who it is," was all the girl would say. - -"But I want to know," insisted the man. "You've got to tell me." - -"If you must know, then, it is a man I love--a man I'm going to marry," -she answered softly. - -Wilkinson returned to his desk, to a fresh cigar. This was another -problem, and problems were in his line, it seemed. - -"You're going to marry somebody rich, I suppose," he said at length. - -A smile crossed her face. - -"Somebody poor," she answered. - -"Poor! Why in heaven's name should you marry somebody that's poor?" - -"Peter, I told you I loved him," she repeated, still smiling. - -Wilkinson was conscious of a curious, indefinable sensation; an emotion -that heretofore had been foreign to his nature. - -"And--and," he stammered, battling with this new sensation, "he loves -you, I suppose?" - -"I know he does," she answered. - -The millionaire puffed silently. - -"He must love you," he went on at length, in brutal tones, "to--to -forgive all this." And stretching his arms wide into a circle that -included her and himself, he added: "He's willing to forget the past?" - -The girl did not answer. But on her face was a death-like pallor. - -"Ah!" he cried, quickly noting her change of colour. "Then he doesn't -know!" - -No one better than Madeline Braine could better realise the full import -of this sneer. Advancing toward him, her limbs dragging against her -skirts, giving her the appearance of a woman struggling forward on her -knees, she caught at one corner of the desk and leaned against it, -crying: - -"Peter, I love this man. You won't--why should he know----" - -"Why shouldn't he?" was the man's cruel answer. "You love him...." - -"No, no, no!" she cried. "Don't you understand--we're going away--going -West, never to come back. If he doesn't know, all will be well...." - -"Oh, so everything is going to be lovely," grinned Peter, "until he -finds out. But when he finds out? What then?" - -For a long time she pleaded with him, while he, lolling back -comfortably in his chair, leisurely blew rings of smoke in the air. -Finally he rose, and held out his hand. - -"You're sure, Madeline, that you've made up your mind to leave me? -Sure?" - -For answer, the girl inclined her head. - -Wilkinson frowned. - -"This interview is at an end. From now on, madam, we'll deal at -arm's length." Then he added, laughing brutally: "Until you find it -desirable to come back again to me." He unlocked the door and opened it -sufficiently to permit her to pass. "Good-day." - -Without a word she passed out and down the hall. At the entrance she -found Jordan, who rose and bowed. - -"Tell my man," she ordered, pointing to the blue limousine without, -"that he need wait no longer--that I shall remain here to-night." - -Jordan's heart popped into his mouth at this unexpected declaration. -With difficulty he asked her to repeat her message, after which he -stepped out to the curb and delivered it. And it was not until the -machine started up and had gathered speed for its homeward journey that -she gave the order to the footman to open the door for her. - -With a sigh of relief the footman cheerfully complied, and bowed her -out. - -"First she said she was going to stay all night, and then she said she -wasn't," he repeated rhythmically, "and now I wonder where the devil -she's gone?" - -Madeline Braine was hardly out of hearing when Wilkinson sent -post-haste for Flomerfelt. - -"Flomerfelt," he cried, the minute that worthy entered the room, "I've -got a new job for you. Forget the Tri-State,--it's trivial, compared -with this,--and find out the name of the man Madeline Braine is going -to marry." - -"Marry!" gasped Flomerfelt. - -Wilkinson clutched him by the wrist, and continued: "And when you've -found out his name, find the man. And when you find the man, -buttonhole him...." - -"Buttonhole him!" echoed the astonished Flomerfelt. "Don't you mean -throttle him?" - -"Buttonhole him," repeated Wilkinson savagely, "and then tell him all -about the girl he loves--and me." - - * * * * * - -A few days later, alone in a bare, hall-bedroom, on the east side of -the big city, Madeline Braine sat staring, with eyes that saw not, into -the gloom without. Well might she reflect that nothing but a miracle -could save her now; well might her reason totter at the thought of what -life held for her in the future. The letter in her lap read: - - " ... There's no use in my seeing you again. I take it from your - silence that you prefer not to explain what I have learned about - you--what I have proved to myself to be a fact--the truth of your - relations with Peter V. Wilkinson. I start West to-night. - - "Yours, - - "H. T." - - - - -V - - -In Mrs. Pallet-Searing's house on Fifth Avenue was an authorised -hiding-place intended, evidently, for no more than two persons, which -was reached by a short journey through the interior flower-garden: -an undignified plunge between some half-dozen palm-tubs, and a short -ascent up a wide, circular staircase. - -In this haven--known only to the initiated,--a week later, Eliot -Beekman and Leslie Wilkinson had been sitting for some time. - -"We must have been here three hours!" the girl suddenly exclaimed -in tones of deep contrition. "Half the people must have gone. -I've deliberately cut every man on the last half of my card," she -rattled on., "thereby completely ruining my chances of ever marrying -any of them; and besides," she concluded limply, "what will Mrs. -Pallet-Searing have to say ..." - -"How did we get here anyway?" questioned the young man. - -"I led the way," confessed the girl, opining wide her eyes, and -glancing daringly into his. "Mrs. Pallet-Searing says that this place -is a trap; and, that Pallet-Searing says, that she's a terribly -designing woman. She says that he says that more--more matches have -been made on account of this moonlit spot than in any other place in -the Borough of Manhattan." - -The face of Eliot Beekman flushed, his eyes were unnaturally bright. If -only he had dared, with his strong right arm he would have drawn the -dainty head of Leslie Wilkinson down on his shoulder and would have -kissed her then and there. But he understood the girl too well--or -thought he did. - -"A match-making cosy-corner," he mused. "How many others have you -fetched here before--have preceded me?" - -Leslie laughingly rose and stood looking down upon him. - -"You're quite the first, I assure you, Mr. Beekman," she answered, -still smiling. - -"Are you--are you sure?" he faltered, becoming suddenly serious. - -"Quite sure," she answered, catching his mood. - -Beekman rose, the flush deepening on his face. His breath came fast. - -"Why, then----" he began; but the girl quickly held up her hand. - -"Now, don't be silly, don't!" she pleaded. "We've been foolish -enough as it is. People will talk, you know; they'll say that it's -the get-rich-quick strain in me that makes me do these ill-bred, -extraordinary things. But indeed it is not. My own mother, Mr. -Beekman," she went on soberly, "was a charming woman--a lady who -would never have associated with some of the people that one meets -here, even. It must be the pure deviltry in me that makes me do some -things--pure deviltry, I assure you, that's all." - -"To lead some impecunious devil to the most exclusive match-making -place in America, and then refuse to.... Pure deviltry! I should -think----" - -Leslie's brow wrinkled. - -"But Mrs. Pallet-Searing? What is she going to say?" broke in the girl. - -"Say! Say nothing at all, of course. She and Pallet-Searing must have -occupied similar cosy-corners, I suppose, years ago," he answered, with -a smile. - -"I don't quite see the application," returned Leslie, puzzled. "Very -likely they had the right: they were engaged, and afterwards married." - -"True," said Beekman, his eyes feasting on her. "And I don't understand -why history can't repeat itself right here and now. The fact is, -your hostess will be disappointed--will be annoyed, I'm sure, at our -stupidity, if we do not make the most of our opportunity." - -Leslie smiled a glorious smile upon him. - -"Mr. Beekman," she whispered softly, "do you think we've been so very -stupid?" - -[Illustration: If only he had dared, ... he would have drawn the dainty -head of Leslie Wilkinson down on his shoulder and would have kissed her -then and there] - -She touched him lightly on the arm. He tried to seize her hand, but she -drew it from him. - -"I don't believe," he said, "that we've got any right to leave -this fascinating retreat, and go down and face the crowd without -being--well, without being engaged. That is, according to my idea of -the Pallet-Searings' idea, we'd be considered a dull young couple, to -say the least." - -"But I'd be cutting myself out of many a delightful hour here!" Leslie -shook her head. - -"Not necessarily," he persisted. - -She tilted her head critically. - -"And this is all I'm to get for sitting out the best part of an evening -with a girl, when I might have been down there with the madding crowd, -having the time of my life," he added. - -Leslie moved to go. - -"We've made several false starts from here," she reminded him, "but we -must go now without any further hesitation, and by separate routes. -Good-bye," she said, and held out her hand. "Shall I see you at the -landing-place at eight o'clock sharp in the morning?" - -Beekman drew her back. - -"At what landing-place?" he demanded, uncertain of her meaning. "What's -going on?" - -The girl fell back helplessly before him. - -"Do you mean to tell me," she sighed forlornly, "that I have been here -all this time with you without telling you the very thing I brought -you here to tell?" - -"I only know," he returned, likewise forlornly, "that you won't let me -tell you the thing that for hours I've been trying to tell." - -Leslie laughed gaily. - -"It was very delightful listening, anyway," she admitted frankly. "But -about this other thing--I told everybody here, that is, everybody -that's to go, but you--and you, why I wanted you the most of all." - -Beekman caught her hand and held it, despite her dignified little -struggle. - -"You're sure of that?" - -"Quite sure," she replied, in a matter-of-fact tone. "You need a -little tan--the sail would do you good. Why, twenty of us boys and -girls,--besides some half-dozen chaperones--are going for the week-end -on the _Marchioness_. Away out to sea as far as she can stand it, and -back again. It ought to be good fun! There'll be only congenial people -aboard--the right men for the right girls." - -"But for yourself, Miss Wilkinson, who----" - -"My dear young friend," she broke in upon his question, "inasmuch as -I am hostess, I see no reason why I shouldn't have the whole ten men -most of the time, do you? I'm a pretty fair manager about these things, -you know," she went on interestedly, "and I thought for you that Jane -Gerard...." - -Beekman coughed slightly and glanced at his watch. - -"A most delightful trip," he conceded, "and I should be glad, awfully -glad to be able to take advantage of the opportunity if it were not -that I am so very busy, and----" - -Leslie was quick to detect his annoyance, but went on, still -flirtatiously: - -"Of course, I could pair off Jane Gerard with Larry Pendexter, though I -was thinking of keeping him myself...." She pursed her lips, and stood -for a moment with her eyes half-closed. Presently, she said: "I think -maybe _it could_ be arranged." And laughing, now, added: "You'll surely -come, won't you?" - -"Come!" he exclaimed, beaming with joy. "I'd come in the face of a -million-dollar retainer from John D. Rockefeller--I would, indeed!" - -A few minutes later, when she faced her hostess to bid her good-night, -that estimable lady, not altogether satisfied with Leslie's nonchalant -manner, laid her hand on her young guest's shoulder, and drew her to -one side. - -"I hope, my dear," she said insinuatingly, "that it's not going to be -Eliot Beekman. He's all right, little one--handsome, and clean, too. -But what you need is money--don't forget that--particularly now. Take -my advice--Eliot is dangerous." The lady sighed. "I've known such -men--I knew one of them once." Her eyes sought the portly form of -Pallet-Searing across the big room. "And I married Pallet-Searing. It's -been worth while." But there was a sigh in her voice, the girl thought, -as she repeated again, "worth while. Run along now! Mrs. Wilkinson has -been looking everywhere for you. Even Peter V. looked in to take you -home. They've both gone. But here comes Eliot now." And turning to -Beekman, the lady shook her finger at him. "I've been warning Leslie -against you, Eliot," she said, frankly, telling him to his face what -she had said behind his back. "I've been warning her that she must -look for money. And, oh, by the way, Eliot! Somebody's been here after -you to-night. We searched everywhere for you except in one place, and -nobody is ever allowed to look there. Colonel Morehead is the man." - -Beekman started. - -"You don't by any chance happen to know----" - -"Business," interposed Mrs. Pallet-Searing; "at least, he said it was." - -Beekman gave vent to a slight gesture of annoyance. - -"I wish I might have seen him. But he's gone, I suppose?" - -Mrs. Pallet-Searing laughed outright. - -"You surely don't regret the fact that we couldn't find you, Eliot?" - -Beekman laughed sheepishly, and shot a glance of guilt toward Leslie. - -"That isn't the point. It simply gives me an involuntary pang when -somebody looks me up on business and I miss them. I have a feeling -that, somehow, I may have lost an opportunity; and chaps like me can't -well afford to miss a man like Colonel Morehead." - -" ... How are you going to get home, child?" suddenly asked her hostess -of Leslie. "Your machine is out there, but----" - -Leslie hesitated for an instant. - -"Possibly Mr. Beekman ..." she laughed mischievously. - -Beekman looked up with mock gravity. - -"Miss Wilkinson," he said, "you've heard that old saying about the game -and the name? Come!" And he took her by the arm. - -Mrs. Pallet-Searing watched the happy young couple leave her house, and -her face took on an expression little in accord with the worldly and -cynical advice that she had given the girl a few moments before. - -From her corner of the limousine Leslie confided to Beekman: - -"Do you know that every time I do something, have something, or give -something, now that we live on Bankrupt Row, up there on the Drive, I -have to explain to everybody that it's my money, and not my father's, -as most people imagine." - -"I wish I could do something for you or your father, but I'm only an -atom of an aggregation here in New York, confound it!" - -Leslie looked at him gratefully, but went on: - -"My money must support the family. Father lost everything he had." - -"I--I didn't know that you had any money." He laughed uncomfortably. -"I'm one of these chaps who has to blurt things out, Miss Wilkinson, -and so I'll tell you just what I thought. Of course I didn't really -want Peter V. Wilkinson to fail--I was sorry when I heard about it. But -when I knew it had to happen, that it was inevitable--Oh, confound it, -I was glad, and for my own selfish reason." - -"Very kind of you to gloat over our misfortune," was her brief comment, -uttered by no means seriously. - -"I thought," went on Beekman, grimly, "that it would put us more on an -equal footing, that perhaps I would have the right to----" - -"Oh, the right, did you say? I never thought you worried much over -that," she said with truly feminine perversity. - -There was a pause. Beekman was the first to speak. - -"A terribly complicated matter, this making love to a rich girl. In the -first place----" - -"Is this an argument before a court?" she inquired, playfully. - -"Before the last court of appeals," he answered quickly. "And the gist -of it is this: How the deuce can a rich girl ever know that anybody -ever loves her?" - -"Do you suppose she cannot tell?" - -"You can't. Look at the rich women who have been fooled--either fooled, -or else satisfied to be sought for what they've got and not for what -they are! You know them by the score." - -"I think I should know if anyone loved me." - -The man shook his head. - -"There is only one way to make the perfect test," he told her, "and -that's impossible. To rid yourself of every dollar for all time, and -then see what happens." - -The girl made no answer. - -"Yes," he went on, "of all the women in the world, the rich American -girl, in my opinion, stands the least chance to be mated as she should -be. If she marries money, ten chances to one it's money she marries -and not a man; if she marries a beggar, she gets an adventurer. The -reason for this, is: the honest American men will not aspire to the -hand of a girl of wealth; and those are the very men that the rich girl -ought to marry. Unfortunately, however, they are just as independent in -their way as she is in hers. You ought to come down and be poor," he -concluded, helping her to alight, for the limousine was now in front of -the Wilkinson house. - -They crossed the pavement to the doorway. There she asked: - -"Do you know any honest, poor man, who will----" She broke off -abruptly, recognising her audacity, and then added: "Don't forget, at -eight to-morrow morning. Those not on time will get left--for at two -minutes past eight the _Marchioness_ will be out in the middle of the -Hudson. Until then,"--and she gave him her hand,--"at the landing----" - -"Not at the landing," he broke in. "I'm going to start from here. I'll -call for you just to see that Larry Pendexter keeps himself to himself, -or at least to Jane Gerard. Is it a go?" - -Leslie did not answer. Instead she flashed him a bewildering smile as -she passed through the door which Jeffries held open for her. - -Half way down the hall, Leslie ran into Roy Pallister. His face was -haggard and unduly white. She started back as she saw him. - -"Why, Roy!" she cried, unconsciously calling him by his first name; -"what has happened?" - -The boy flushed as his name fell from her lips. - -"Miss Leslie," he began stumblingly, seemingly embarrassed by the -searching gaze she rested on him, "nothing--that is, nothing that's -imminent. Your----" - -"My father!" she queried. "Has anything----" - -"They," pointing to the floor above, "seem to treat it lightly. I'm a -beast for frightening you; but I think your father feels--fears----" - -"Mr. Pallister, what are you keeping from me? What is the matter?" - -The gentle little fellow steadied himself for a moment against the -wall, and then, as she made a movement to go, he drew her back. - -"Miss Leslie, I've been wanting to tell you something--I've been -waiting for the chance. If ever in the future you need help--help of -any kind, you'll let me know," he said with lips that trembled. "I -want to be sure that you understand just what I mean. I've never done -anything for you, Miss Leslie, and----" - -"Why, yes you have; indeed you have...." she assured him, and her look -was one of genuine affection. - -The boy shook his head. - -"I want your promise that you'll come to me if----" - -Leslie did not wait to hear any more, but breaking from him, ran -swiftly up the stairs. At the first landing she turned and looked -back: he was standing very straight and very quiet by the newel post, -glancing up at her with intense admiration. In a flash she was back to -the foot of the stairs holding out her hand to him. - -"I promise, Roy," she said impulsively. "You're the best-hearted fellow -going! Good-night!" - -At the door of her step-mother's apartment, Leslie paused. A babel of -voices came from behind the closed doors--the voices of many men and -one woman. Quickly in answer to her knock and question "May I come in?" -the door was thrown back, and Flomerfelt, her father's confidential -man, stood framed in the doorway, bowing elaborately. In a glance, -despite the haze of cigar smoke, she saw that the company consisted of -her father, her father's wife, and another man. With a glad cry, she -rushed over to this other man and grasped his hand. - -"Colonel Morehead! The sight of you...." - -In an instant, Colonel Morehead's thin lips parted in a smile. He made -an old-fashioned bow and then sank back into his chair. - -"You were at Amy Pallet-Searing's to-night," the girl went on, "and you -never looked me up. Be good enough to explain yourself, sir!" - -Colonel Morehead removed his glasses and polished them upon his -handkerchief before answering: - -"I was busy looking up somebody else," he said, and Leslie saw that -the smile had left his face as he resumed his tap-tapping on the table -with his fingers; she saw, too, that her father's face was a bit white -where the skin showed. He looked tired, but his thick Van Dyke bristled -aggressively, and his eyebrows breathed the usual defiance. - -"Where were you, Leslie, that we couldn't find you anywhere?" demanded -her step-mother, irritably. "How did you get home?" - -"Very comfortably in the limousine, thank you," replied Leslie. "Mr. -Beekman was good enough----" - -Colonel Morehead leaped to his feet. - -"Not Eliot Beekman! What? He came home with you?" He started for the -door. "Why, he's the man I've been looking for. Where is he now?" - -"Undoubtedly home, by this time," said Leslie. - -The Colonel again reseated himself and drummed loudly with his fingers. - -"Hang it!" he ejaculated. "If I'd only known.... He could have been -with us here now. We need him--and badly." - -Wilkinson looked puzzled. - -"Why do we need him?" Wilkinson asked the question in a voice in which -excitement still held sway. - -"That's what I should like to know!" put in Mrs. Wilkinson, gulping -down, not without audible satisfaction, her customary night-cap. - -Leslie blushed as she added that the question likewise was of interest -to her. - -"We're disgraced, that's all there is to it!" snapped the mistress -of the house, her night-cap, even at this early stage, lending her -asperity. "And I the most of all! I don't see how this Beekman can help -us out?" - -"I don't myself," admitted her husband. "However, nothing can happen so -long as Colonel Morehead sticks to us--nothing." - -"I have no intention of deserting you, don't be alarmed," declared -Colonel Morehead. "But for all that, I want this man Beekman--I -need him." And so saying he lifted from the small table a document -consisting of several sheets of carbon-copy. - -"Miss Wilkinson," he said gravely, handing it to her. "No--there's -nothing in it to startle you, only you should know, I think, we all -ought to understand.... If you'll read this, you'll know what happened -to your father this afternoon." - -Puzzled at first, the girl slowly read the flimsy document as she -stood there in the middle of the room. - -"Oh!" she wailed, as its meaning dawned upon her. "They had no right to -do this--no right whatever!" - -"You're sure you understand it?" interrogated the Colonel. - -The girl bowed her head gravely. Then, going over to her -father,--wholly unconscious of a curious look on Flomerfelt's -face,--she threw her arms about his neck. - -"Father, dear father," she whispered to him, "don't mind. We'll win -out." - -Her father submitted goodnaturedly but wearily to her embrace. He -stretched his arms and yawned. - -"I'm dog tired," he said, rising. "I'm going to bed. You'll stay all -night, Morehead?" - -"Not a bit of it," responded the Colonel. "You don't catch me deserting -my own hard bed--not much! I'll go home." He shook hands with Mrs. -Peter V. Wilkinson, and pressed a button. - -"How about you, Flomerfelt? It's rather late ..." said Peter V. - -"Don't care if I do," was the latter's answer. And on the servant's -appearing, Peter V. ordered him to show Mr. Flomerfelt to one of the -guest rooms, concluding with: "Show him to the one with the painted -nymphs skylarking on the walls." Then he placed his arm around his -daughter, and together they followed Colonel Morehead downstairs to the -door, where they bade him good-night. - -Mrs. Wilkinson and Flomerfelt listened to the sound of retreating -footsteps. - -"He'll not be coming back," she said, "and I want to talk to you." And -pointing to the document that Leslie had been shown, she asked: "What -does all this signify?" - -"What it signifies," he answered, picking up the paper, "may depend on -you." - -The woman looked puzzled. - -"How?" - -Flomerfelt's eyes narrowed. Then, with a lithe and dexterous movement -of his long arms, he shot his cuffs--hitherto out of sight--into view; -extending them, with a jerk, below his coat-sleeves, so that they -covered his lean wrists to the extent of three-quarters of an inch, a -distance which he measured with mathematical certainty, apparently, for -his nice adjustment of them was followed critically by his glance. He -eyed and adjusted one cuff until it satisfied him, and then eyed and -adjusted the other; finally he rubbed his hands together, and said: - -"One of the richest women in the world--rich in her own right. How does -that sound to you?" - -Mrs. Peter V. stared at him. - -"Who is?" she inquired. - -"It's a possibility that affects a woman in this house." - -"Leslie?" - -He shook his head. - -"I was thinking of you." - -"I? I'm not rich. I've been a fool!" she cried. "I should have made him -settle something on me--half, at any rate. Now it's all gone; he's lost -everything; I might as well have had half of it--as well that, as to -throw it in the gutter as he did." - -Wilkinson's confidential man seated himself. - -"Unquestionably you need me," he said frankly, and then stopped. -Hitherto he had kept his own counsel. And yet, he reflected, there is a -wisdom of disclosure just as there is a wisdom of suppression. Some new -impulse seized him; his voice sank into a whisper. "There is a chance -for us, Mrs. Peter V., to be rich, if we work together, unusually rich." - -"But how?" she whispered back, excitedly. - -Flomerfelt smiled inscrutably, and answered: - -"Out of the wreck, there's a chance----" - -"A good chance?" she interrupted eagerly. - -"There's only one man who can prevent it," he went on. - -"Peter V.----?" - -A nod was her answer. - -Immediately then she went back to first principles. - -"What is going to happen to him? Will they put him in jail?" - -Wilkinson's confidential man smiled. - -"I've often wondered," he mused, "whether it would be good or bad for -us if they jailed him. A man in prison is a man very much out of the -way. But in this case he would be too much out of the way. Put him in -jail and you discourage his defence--you encourage the public, his -depositors. They'll do what we should do: infest the wreck and gobble -up what is ours by right. No, so long as Peter Wilkinson lives, we must -fight his battle for him--pull him through, keep him standing up, only -to be able to knock him down later. That, so long as he lives, must be -our policy. So long as he lives," he repeated. - -"Suppose," she began, and then hazarded: "In case of his death, what -would my rights be?" - -"In case he dies----" suddenly he stopped. That was a possibility he -had not foreseen. He had seen much strife ahead: first, a tremendous -fight for Wilkinson, then a tremendous campaign against him. But what -if the man should break down, die? There was food for thought, reasoned -Flomerfelt. - -"He might die," he resumed, holding her glance as he went on, "for -everything must be considered. Disgrace wouldn't kill him, but his -liver, or,----" he jerked his thumb over his shoulder,--"there might be -violence--conspiracies. There have been rumours that the trust company -depositors are wild, especially the poor ones--socialists, we'll say. -So, he might die--be killed. Who knows?" - -Flomerfelt rose and looked down upon her long and earnestly. - -"But we'll cross that bridge when we come to it, Mrs. Peter V. -Good-night, my dear lady!" And bowing unusually low to her, he left the -room. - - - - -VI - - -It was three o'clock in the morning when Eliot Beekman reached his club -in Forty-fourth Street. - -"There's a telegram for you, Mr. Beekman," called out a sleepy employé, -from the office. "It was left here by your clerk to-night." - -In his room Beekman switched on the light and read: - - ELIOT BEEKMAN, ESQ., - 32 Nassau St., N. Y. - - Meet us at Hotel Iroquois, Buffalo, to-morrow six P. M. Important - letter follows. Wire answer. Do not fail. - - BANK LE BOEUF, - _J. K. W., Cashier_. - -"The Bank Le Boeuf of Buffalo! Sounds good; I hope it is good," mused -Beekman. "If so, another big client added to my growing list." - -Without hesitation he wrote an answering telegram, stating that he -would be at the Hotel Iroquois at 6 P. M. the following night, took it -downstairs, and left it in the office with instructions to send it as -soon as possible. - -And it was not until fifteen minutes later, in the midst of his -speculations as to the nature of this business sent to him by the Bank -Le Boeuf, that the thought of Leslie's yachting-party came to him. - -"Confound it!" he muttered to himself. "I clean forgot all about it. -What am I going to do?" - -Yet Beekman was so consistent that he recognised at once that there -was nothing to do save what he had done. He had built up his practice -without pull, influence or money; and he had done it by religiously -conserving the interests of his clients. He knew, therefore, that -he must obey this summons. So, assuring himself that Leslie would -understand it when he told her in the morning, he removed his evening -dress, swathed himself in a dressing--gown, stepped into his library -and began to work. An unfinished job lay upon his table--a job that, he -knew, would take past dawn to finish, and early in the evening he had -determined not to go to bed. So he started in. - -There was a neat supply of law books in his rooms--a good working -library, an average lawyer would call it. And from the hour that he -donned his dressing--gown, Beekman nosed among these tan-coloured -volumes, taking down one from its shelf, scanning the headnotes of -a given case, reading the opinion, slapping the book together and -replacing it. A hundred times, at least, he did this. Finally, weary of -his search, and hopelessly downcast, for so far his search had been in -vain, he found on the highest shelf a slender volume and opened it. And -now, as he started to read, his eye brightened and he quickly seized -pen and paper. - -"Eureka!" he exclaimed. "On all fours--just in point. By George, -this--this wins the trick!" - -Half an hour was spent in jotting down the salient portions of the -opinion of the Court of Appeals. Then, restoring the book to its -accustomed place, he folded up his memorandum neatly and thrust it -into a heavy brown envelope, labelled: Turner vs. Cooper. And now with -considerable complacency he leaned back, saying to himself: - -"I thought sure I was licked. But I've got 'em! I'll bet dollars to -doughnuts that Jameson & Bowers never even heard of that decision! -Now," he stretched out his arms, "I'm ready for Leslie Wilkinson and -the _Marchioness_--or, no," he corrected himself, "I mean I'm ready for -the Empire State Express." - -A moment more and he had turned on the faucet, filled the tub to the -brim, and had plunged in--holding his head under the cold water for -half a minute at a time. Completely refreshed, he dressed carefully, -ascertained from the appearance of the heavens that it was likely to be -clear, then quietly left his room and started down the stairs and left -the club. At the Grand Central Station he checked his grip. He had lots -of time, even for the preliminary little journey that he proposed to -take. - -After getting some breakfast he strolled back to the West Side and -sauntered up Sixth Avenue. The stores were all closed. One, however, -as Beekman passed, opened up. From the door its proprietor, a little -wizened Jew, nodded sleepily to Beekman. Returning the nod, the latter -looked again at the store, and retracing his steps, entered. - -"Ready for business?" inquired the lawyer. - -The proprietor nodded. - -"Always," he replied. - -"This is a gun store?" queried Beekman. - -The Jew yawned. - -"Loogs like id," he conceded. "Did you vant to buy a gun?" - -"I want ten cents' worth of shot," his customer replied, pointing out -the size he wanted; and, after the storekeeper had weighed out the -quantity and it had been dropped into his pockets, he started on his -way rejoicing, making a bee line for Wilkinson's. It was getting-up -time now, but not for people on the Drive. There silence reigned -supreme. - -But Beekman felt very wide awake. His conversation with Leslie the -night before in the Pallet-Searing cosy-corner, and his successful -night's work had gone to his head like wine. And it was this condition -that led him to purchase a handful of shot; and now, regardless of the -fact that he was operating on the residence that had cost ten million -dollars, more or less, and, in fact, regardless of consequences, he -took his station in the middle of the Drive and selecting half a dozen -missiles from his pocket, he flung them lightly through the air, aiming -for a wide window-pane on the third story of the house. Three times he -did this. The fourth time he was stopped by a voice calling out: - -"Hi, there!" - -Turning quickly Beekman found himself confronted with the majesty of -the law. - -"What're you trying to do?" demanded the officer. "Isn't it a bit early -in the morning, or a bit late in the evening, to be out on a drunk? -What's doin', anyway?" - -Beekman grinned, desisting, nevertheless. - -"A bit of old-time romance," he explained; "trying to wake her up, -that's all." - -"Is her name Norah?" demanded the blue-coat, threateningly. - -Beekman glanced aloft; then he plucked the officer by the sleeve. - -"Look for yourself," he rejoined, "and see.... Is that Norah up -there?" - -While the officer scanned the housetop, Beekman gazed innocently out -over the Hudson. - -"It is--not," he assented joyfully. "And so long as it is not, I have -nought to say, except," the policeman's voice trailed off into a -whisper, "except, sir, that the lady is waving to you. Look now, and -see." - -Beekman looked. There she was, indeed. - -"I've been up an hour!" she cried. "Wait until I come down." - -In the music-room, she greeted him with: - -"Have you had your breakfast?" - -"Yes. I came to tell you...." - -"Then you got my telegram all right?" - -Beekman shook his head. - -"You're not the Bank Le Boeuf of Buffalo?" - -"I didn't phone you," she went on, ignoring his question, "because I -couldn't, don't you know. But I sent a wire so you'd get it the first -thing this morning--at your club." - -"Crowd there too sleepy to get it to me, I suppose," he said, puzzled. -"What was in it?" But without waiting for an answer, he went on: "I -came to tell you about my telegram," and with that he passed it over -to her. "Business before pleasure," he remarked tritely, and yet -in a manner that he knew she would understand. "I can't go on the -_Marchioness_, you see." - -"The _Marchioness_," she responded, "is not going after all. That's -why I wired you. But I'm glad you came, because, somehow, I wanted you -to know--before it appeared in the papers----" She paused, and then -added, with much feeling: "The Grand Jury has indicted my father--late -yesterday afternoon. As yet no one knows it; but everybody will know it -by nine o'clock this morning. It may be in the papers now, though they -tried to keep it out. It's a terrible thing--a thing like that! I can't -see how, or why, they indicted him! Can you?" - -Beekman looked his sympathy. Presently he asked: - -"Do you mind my asking just what they charge him with?" - - - - -VII - - -The Empire State Express had not travelled many miles when Eliot -Beekman's attention was directed to a strange-looking man who sat -across the aisle, facing him. From time to time the man's face flushed -and gave little nervous starts and twitches, and, every now and then, -he mumbled to himself. At first Beekman figured out that the man was -recovering from an unaccustomed debauch; but afterwards he changed his -mind: he decided that he was crazy. - -"Glad to get away from New York," confided the stranger, breaking in on -Beekman's meditations, and tapping him on the knee. "The farther away I -get the better I like it." - -Beekman somewhat resented this interference with his comfortable -somnolence, but he straightened up and smiled and answered: - -"For my part New York's home to me. I feel sick, somehow, when I'm away -from it." - -The man swung about and glanced nervously at the changing landscape, -and then suddenly turned back again and exhibited a pocket volume with -flexible covers. - -"Dante's Inferno," he declared, pointing to the book. "Ever delve -into it? I've just recently been through a little inferno of my own," -he went on. "I brought this with me, because I've got to keep before -my mind the fact that some people have gone through more than I have. -At least, so it seems to me. At the same time, I don't know that I'm -ready to change places with any of the chaps in here." He tapped the -book. "Neat little volume," he commented, rattling on nervously and -without apparently keeping much track of what he was saying. "See the -frontispiece," he said, leaning over towards Beekman. "It's Dante -himself. I wonder why he always wears that headgear? Never see him -without it! Always reminds me of a little verse on how to tell the -names of busts." - -"'I recognise Dante because he's tab-eared.' Tab-eared, you know," he -went on, "is his peculiar sort of headgear. All sculptors give it to -him." He resumed in sing-song fashion: - - "'I recognise Dante, because he's tab-eared, - And Virgil I know by his wreath, - Old Homer I tell by his rough, shaggy beard, - And the rest--_by the names underneath_.'" - -Beekman laughed aloud. - -"Good! Mighty good!" he cried. "Especially 'and the rest by the names -underneath.' A flash of genius that." - -The man turned over several pages in his book and began to read -steadily, rumpling his hair, from time to time, as he did so. Once he -looked up, only to find Beekman staring hard at the top of his head. - -"Looking at my Heidelberg scar?" he asked hastily, pulling a lock of -hair over it. "It was an ugly one, I can tell you, and almost did for -me, too. Sometimes, you know I've thought it dented me a little in the -skull." He pushed back the hair, again exhibiting the long, deep cut. -"It throbs there once in a while--it's throbbing now." - -His conversation became incoherent, and from it Beekman gathered only -snatches. - -"I don't know how to go about it," he continued, as though talking to -himself. "It's the taxes chiefly. If I can get rid of the tax sales, -that farm is just the thing for me. Old farm," he explained, looking up -at Beekman, "somewhere in Erie County. Thought I'd take a look at it. -Been in the family for years, but neglected it; now I want to live on -it, bury myself, get away from New York, from the Inferno back to Eden, -don't you know." - -He laughed a quick, nervous laugh, and jerked himself away once more, -his face twitching while he mumbled. - -"A man labouring under some strange and unusual excitement," thought -Beekman, "and yet...." - -The stranger was on his feet now, and going down the aisle paused -before a chair that was occupied by a tired mother and her -two-and-a-half-year-old child. Weary, mortified, her temper gone, the -woman was trying to appease the crying babe. - -Taking up the child in his arms, the stranger sat it on his knee, let -it play with his watch, rattled his keys, adopted a hundred lively -pranks for the benefit of the child; and the infant, soothed and -cheered by this new and agreeable personality, sank at last into a -peaceful sleep. - -"Nothing like a child," he said to Beekman, "to make the future seem -worth while. Talk about Eden--there's no Eden, no happiness, without -them. I love children, this one, all of them." - -Beekman once more lapsed into drowsiness, his thoughts, in a confused -way, resting on the eccentric character beside him. When he awoke the -train was pulling into Buffalo. Touching the stranger by the arm, as -he was preparing to alight, he quoted: "'And the rest by the names -underneath.'" And added, as he raised his hat: "Thanks. I'll not forget -that." - -Nor did he soon forget it. For indeed through many months to come he -carried with him the memory of that nervous, haunted, tired face with -the restless, hopeless eyes, the memory of this unknown man with the -scar deep and long and wide upon his forehead--the scar from Heidelberg. - - * * * * * - -At ten o'clock that morning Peter V. Wilkinson was closeted with -Colonel Morehead in Colonel Morehead's office at 120 Broadway. - -"Glad you left that Flomerfelt proposition downstairs, Peter," said -Morehead, "because, for one thing, I don't like him." - -"Well, I do," retorted Wilkinson positively. "As a matter of fact, I -like him because I can't get along without him. He's a wonder!" he went -on enthusiastically. "Any time you want a thing put through, and don't -care how it's done, you hire my man Flomerfelt. In this whole crisis, -Flomerfelt, in my opinion, is worth his weight in gold. Why, the man -has a hold on nearly everybody that I know." - -"Well, he hasn't one on me," returned the lawyer. - -"He has on me, then," said his client, "but I don't mind. He gets good -pay from me; and he can make any given man do almost anything he wants -him to do--that's Flomerfelt. I never stop thanking my good fortune -that I've got him on my side. He's the kingpin in this mix-up, let me -tell you, Morehead." - -The Colonel laughed. - -"I was inclined to think, Peter, that I might be some pumpkins myself," -he suggested. "I may be, before we're through." - -"No use of talking," protested his client, "Flomerfelt can do things -that you can't do, and never thought of doing. If I get out of this -scrape, it will be Flomerfelt's doing...." - -The lawyer leaned back in his revolving chair. He was a lean personage, -all bone and gristle, with a lean nose and shrewd, sharp eyes. - -"Peter," he said, "a bunch of indictments for perjury, larceny and -forgery are dangerous things." He looked at his watch. "Confound it!" -he went on. "Why the dickens couldn't the Court agree to take our plea -at ten this morning. By eleven everybody in town will know about it, -everybody that can will be there. If the papers hadn't got on to it -early this morning we'd have had no trouble. We could have slipped in -and out--done the trick, and nobody the wiser. But now.... By the way," -he added, "that reminds me--I want that man Beekman over here. I'll -call him up." - -Eliot Beekman's office said he was out--said he was not in New -York--that he'd left that morning on the Empire State Express for -Buffalo. - -"Well, where is he in Buffalo?" asked Morehead. - -They told him--at the Iroquois Hotel. - -"Tell him that Colonel Morehead called him up," said the Colonel; "and -that I want to see him the minute he returns." - -Wilkinson nervously tapped his foot upon the floor. - -"I can't see what you want of Beekman?" he said. - -Morehead's eyes narrowed. - -"I want him to defend you, if these indictments come to trial, as -probably they shall." - -"What! That young fellow who calls at my house to see Leslie!" returned -Wilkinson. "Why, we want the highest-priced counsel we can get. I want -you, and Patrick Durand, but not one of the submerged like Beekman." - -"I want to tell you that Beekman isn't one of the submerged, as you -say. He's got a practice here that yields him at least seventy-five -hundred a year, which means that he's a wonderful man, because he's -only thirty, or a little under, with no political pull. He makes his -living out of the law pure and simple, not out of Wall Street, or real -estate deals, or the criminal classes, either." - -"Well, then, if he's not a criminal lawyer, we certainly do not want -him," protested the Colonel's rich client. - -"I like Beekman," proceeded the Colonel, ignoring the comment, -"because, in a measure, he reminds me of myself, though he has -something that I never had. Like me, he's a free lance. He never hooked -up in partnership with anybody. When he tries a case he does it as I -do--not with his associate holding his hand on one side and a couple of -assistants holding his hand on the other--but alone with a couple of -scraps of paper, and the rest of his case in his head. I like Beekman -first-rate." He hitched his chair close to Wilkinson's. "But that isn't -the point. The gist of the whole thing is this: There's one thing that -Beekman can do better than any other lawyer in New York; one thing that -he can do that most lawyers can't do at all. He is able to impress his -jury with his own absolute belief in his client's cause. He's sincere, -and the jury know it. And that's three-quarters of the battle. Oh, -we'll all be there, Peter, on the show-down, but you can imagine me -trying to impress a jury with my belief in my client's honesty, can't -you? Oh, yes, my cleverness is conceded; they'd all laugh, and say, -'Strike one for the Colonel,' and all that sort of thing. But ten -chances to one they'd find the other way. I wish I had that strange -thing that Beekman has got! All my life I've wanted it." - -Wilkinson fidgeted about. He didn't see this as the Colonel did. -Nevertheless he answered: - -"What you say goes, Morehead!" - -The Colonel jerked his head and became the least bit more confidential. - -"But the trick is to be sure that Beekman actually does believe in you. -But, Peter, we're fortunate in one respect--I would have retained him -anyway--but this development is certainly fortuitous: He wants to marry -your daughter Leslie." - -Wilkinson's face reddened; his Van Dyke bristled with opposition. - -"I'd like to see him get the chance!" he cried. "Leslie has got to -marry well, and she's just the hard-headed little girl who'll do it, -too. Beekman marry Leslie! Not if I know it!" - -The lawyer sank back wearily. - -"The question of who marries your daughter, Wilkinson, is no concern -of mine. That Beekman wants to marry her, is enough for me. Let him -want to--let him see her all he wants to--you can fix the ultimate -proceedings in your own way. But for the present, somebody has got to -build up in Beekman a great and immovable faith in you. He must be -educated up to the belief that you are as straight as a string. Let his -teacher be the girl; she'll make the best one, for she believes in you -herself." - -Wilkinson pressed his hand against his face. - -"And she's always got to believe in me," he groaned. "We must see to -that." - -The Colonel gripped his arm. - -"And whatever happens, Peter," he concluded, "I don't want Beekman ever -to meet this man Giles Ilingsworth, for he's another of your honest -chaps; and if Beekman before your trial should hear from the lips of -Giles Ilingsworth his own story of the case, he's going to believe -it. Do you understand?" The lawyer grinned, adding: "For I believe it -myself." - -Fifteen minutes later a Mastodon turned into Franklin Street from -Broadway and rolled easily down the hill toward the Criminal Courts -Building, next door to the Tombs. In the car were four men: Peter V. -Wilkinson, Colonel Morehead, his counsel; Roy Pallister, Wilkinson's -private secretary, and Wilkinson's chauffeur. - -"Great guns!" cried Wilkinson when they were half way down the street; -"look at the crowds! Why, everybody in New York is here!" - -"I heard on the street this morning," said Morehead, who rather enjoyed -his client's discomfiture, "that the disgruntled depositors had -deserted the front doors of the Interstate and the Tri-State, and had -formed here, waiting to see you----" - -Morehead got no further, for at that moment the car abruptly stopped, -as if on the brink of a precipice. A dirty fist was thrust into the -car, and an extra shoved into their faces. - - WILKINSON WARNED! - - RUMOURS RIFE THAT THE CROWD AT CRIMINAL COURT WILL TRY TO KILL---- - -"Stop the car! Stop the car!" called out Wilkinson frantically. "Look -at that murderous gang down there! Go back--go back! Turn the other -way--turn the car around, do you hear?" - -Morehead held up his hand. - -"It's all right, Francois. Go ahead!" he commanded. "Go right ahead and -nobody will notice us. We'll go in by the rear entrance; most of the -crowd are in front. There are four automobiles there already; they've -probably mistaken others for us. The crowd don't know you, Wilkinson, -from Adam--wouldn't know you from your pictures in the papers. Besides, -there's no danger; there never is, with a New York crowd. Drive on!" - -The chauffeur obeyed him. - -Now they were on the outskirts of the crowd, and had begun slowly to -eat their way through it when, all of a sudden, somebody set up a cry -of "Wilkinson!" But quick as a flash, Morehead leaned over the side of -the car and shouted to the nearest of the mob: - -"Has Wilkinson arrived?" - -The answer was "No!" And at once word passed quickly that the car did -not contain Wilkinson, but somebody else. Nevertheless, to Wilkinson's -fearful eye there was a movement here, there, everywhere, as if the -crowd, or some few people in it, had realised the truth. - -Presently Morehead caught sight of two officers standing on the steps. -To these the Colonel waved an unseen signal, while on the sidewalk -Wilkinson's faithful Pinkertons waited, alert, quiet, their hands in -their coat pockets. - -And so it happened that the Mastodon managed to draw up at the curb -before a spacious door, the two officers moving out to meet it, the -Pinkertons flanking it on the other side. - -"All we have to do, you see," said Colonel Morehead, "is to make a dash -behind these uniforms, and a second more and we're inside. The crowd -will be fooled." - -But the crowd was not fooled. For suddenly there rose upon the air a -mighty cry as if from a thousand throats: - -"Wilkinson! Wilkinson! He's here! He's here! This way! This way! -There's Wilkinson!" A moment's silence, and then more cries of: "Thief! -Forger! Perjurer! My money--give me back my money!... Arg-gh -Wilkinson ...!" - -"Now, Wilkinson," whispered the Colonel, "keep a stiff upper lip; don't -turn a hair. Just get out of the car and walk right through. I know -crowds--nothing will happen--nothing. Now...." - -Colonel Morehead was a man whose orders were generally obeyed. -Consequently, in a situation like this, his reassuring words carried -great weight, and the men with him in the car, immediately following -his example, jumped to their feet. For an instant they stood, exposed -to merciless hootings, preparing to alight; and in that very instant -there suddenly rang out a revolver shot, and a puff of smoke floated -over the densest part of the crowd, while, almost simultaneously, one -of the four men in the car, clutching first at the air and then at -his throat, plunged head foremost into the street below. Just how it -happened the police never knew, but all remembered hearing a voice cry -out: "Wilkinson!" - -For a moment that seemed hours, the trained Pinkertons failed to rise -to the emergency, but then fairly leaping into the machine and dragging -the men across the sidewalk, they thrust them into the safety within -the hall and closed the doors on them. Out again and into the street -dashed the Pinkertons with the two uniformed officers, and there they -picked up the body which was lying hideously huddled between the curb -and the machine. As for Francois the chauffeur, he had fled. - -"Get back there! Get back there!" cried the officers. "If you don't, -we'll pull our clubs. Get back! Will you get back ...!" - -But the frenzied crowd would not budge. So the officers, with their -backs to the machine, plied their clubs viciously about them, but even -then the mob persisted. - -"It served him right! He got what was coming to him!" came from all -sides. - -"Get back!" cried the officers, standing guard over the body on the -sidewalk. Gently one of them felt of the dead man, opening his clothing -at the neck, felt of his heart. Now the officers shook their heads. -A man came running through the crowd. "I'm a doctor," he told them; -"anything I can do?" He, too, applied the tests. Presently he finished -and rose to his feet, and announced: - -"He's dead--dead as a door nail." - -The policemen carried the body into the huge building and laid it down -upon the stones. - -"Great heavens! It's little Pallister." - -The exclamation fell from the lips of Peter V. Wilkinson as he -clutched at Colonel Morehead for support. A moment later, wiping the -perspiration from his face, he added: - -"And they meant that for me!" - - - - -VIII - - -Despite the efforts of his counsel to pacify him, it was fully half -an hour before Peter V. Wilkinson recovered from his fright. Over and -over again he wailed in the lawyer's ears, "But they tried to do it, -Morehead. They tried to kill me, didn't they?" And when, at last, the -replies to this question were not forthcoming, he asked, between little -fits of shivering, what plans had been made to get him away, since -the police would probably be powerless to drive away the crowd which -every moment, he was positive, was increasing because of the excitement -and their knowledge now that he was in the building. In a measure, -however, he was soon reassured. For after a loud rap on the railing, -the Court came in, and glancing commiseratingly at Colonel Morehead, as -if apologising for an act of violence, he shot out a stern forefinger -towards the officers and cried out in a sonorous tone: - -"Clear the court-room at once! Next thing you know we'll have violence -here." - -This proceeding took some little time, for the court-room was crowded. -When at last it was cleared the Court, bowing respectfully to Colonel -Morehead, announced: - -"If you're ready, Colonel Morehead, we'll have the indictments read." - -The Colonel made a grimace. - -"We've been reading them all night, your Honour; I know them all by -heart; I think we can waive having them read." - -"Put the waiver on the record," said the Assistant District Attorney to -the stenographer. He nodded toward the Court. "The District Attorney is -most particular about this case." - -"How do you plead to the first, Colonel?" asked the Court. - -"The larceny indictment?" - -"Yes." - -"Not guilty." - -"Forgery--eight counts there, Colonel." - -"Not guilty." - -"Perjury--these banking reports--how about it?" - -"Not guilty," repeated Morehead laconically. "And now, your Honour," he -went on, adopting a casual tone, "about bail?" - -The Court inclined his head toward the Assistant District Attorney. - -"Any suggestions?" - -"I move, your Honour," said the assistant, "that bail in these -cases,--under the new rule laid down in the Mitchell case,--be fixed at -two hundred and fifty thousand dollars on each charge." - -Colonel Morehead stiffened as with a sudden shock. - -"Your Honour," he protested, "this is preposterous! Every defendant is -entitled to have bail fixed at a reasonable sum." - -"Then," went on the assistant with asperity, "if Colonel Morehead makes -a fuss about it, I move, your Honour, to hold this defendant in the -Tombs, and without bail, if your Honour please. It is, in this case, -discretionary with your Honour. People vs. Mitchell, 193 New York." - -His Honour nodded impartially to Colonel Morehead and the Assistant -District Attorney. - -For a while he gazed into space; finally he said: - -"Colonel Morehead, I think that I must fix the bail suggested, if I fix -any bail at all." - -"This is barbarous, prohibitive, unconstitutional," groaned Morehead. -"Why, your Honour, it is a notorious fact that my client is a broken -man, financially. Where can he get three-quarters of a million bail?" - -The Court's eyes sought the rear wall. He had often dined with -Wilkinson, had been entertained at his house, but this made no -difference to the Court. - -"I think, Colonel," he repeated, this time with a shade more emphasis, -"that I must fix the bail suggested, if I am to fix any bail at all." - -Wilkinson, the present calamity fresh upon him, was trembling; and -pressing against Colonel Morehead, whispered loudly in his ear: - -"Let it go at three-quarters of a million, Colonel; we can raise that -easy enough." - -The Colonel turned white with rage. He looked at the Assistant District -Attorney to see if that gentleman had heard the remark. Then, satisfied -that he had not, he turned swiftly and ostentatiously upon his client, -protesting: - -"Mr. Wilkinson, I am managing this case, not you. Be good enough to -let me manage it alone." Before proceeding, he wiped his glasses and -blinked his eyes. "Your Honour," he said with considerable pathos in -his tone, "to fix this bail means that my client must be incarcerated -in the Tombs. Who among all his friends will come forward to-day and -furnish three-quarters of a million dollars bail? Who, indeed?" He -shook his head. "Blessed are they that hath, for to them shall be -given. But to him that hath not, shall be taken away, even that he -hath. Does your Honour still persist?" - -"Colonel Morehead," said the Court, "I shall cheerfully hold this man -without bail at all, if you still persist." - -Morehead bowed. - -"We shall try ..." and his voice rang with the wail of a funeral bell, -"we shall try to get bail, your Honour." - -"You can't furnish it now?" asked the Court. - -"You might as well ask for the moon," returned Wilkinson's counsel, -looking the picture of grim despair. - -The Court's eyelids never fluttered as he ordered: - -"Take the prisoner to the Tombs in default of bail." - -"I'll go with you, Wilkinson," declared Morehead, with a peculiar smile. - -As they crossed the Bridge of Sighs, they could hear the cries of the -crowd below--a crowd frenzied both by the horror of the crime and the -escape of Wilkinson. - -"Don't be frightened, Wilkinson, this is all right," said Morehead -soothingly. "You're going to stay in the Tombs until I get you bail." - -"I can put it up in half an hour, you fool!" insisted Wilkinson. - -"But you won't," returned his counsel. "Not if I know it. If you put up -bail in half an hour, they'll find out where it comes from; and if they -find that out, they'll find out all the rest." - -Wilkinson dropped his eyes. - -"Perhaps you're right, Colonel," he conceded. "Do with me as you will." - -"Yes, you must do as I say, or I'll drop this case," warned the -Colonel. "And while you're in here, you're not to talk--not a word to -anyone--do you understand me?" - -"But how long will I be in here? They won't lock me up, will they?" - -"Of course they will." - -"Not behind the bars--not in a cell?" - -Morehead nodded. - -"I won't stand for it!" blustered the millionaire. - -Morehead caught him by the arm and looked him in the eye. - -"You've got to do as I say to the letter, or it means ruin, ruin, do -you understand? I know what I'm talking about. You go into a cell -without a murmur. The newspapers--all New York will talk about it; -everybody will know that Colonel Morehead is gnashing his teeth at the -injustice shown you. Morehead is taking an appeal, they will say; but -as for you, you'll keep quiet in your cage until I let you out. It -won't be long; wait and see." - -They passed into the Tombs. A deputy warden nodded to Wilkinson. - -"That was a narrow escape you had, Mr. Wilkinson," he said, referring -to the tragedy of an hour or so before. - -"I--I should think so," faltered Wilkinson, the cold sweat running down -his face. "Poor Pallister! Have they got the murderer?" - -"No," said the warden, "and I doubt if they'll ever get him, either. -Still, you never can tell...." - -"If they should find out, you'll let me know at once, won't you?" urged -Wilkinson. - -The warden promised. The lawyer and his client parted: Colonel Morehead -went his way; Wilkinson was shown into a cell. - -At one o'clock that day, one of the officials unlocked the door of his -cell and took him down into a counsel room. Sitting there at a table -was a woman with her face in her hands. - -"Oh, father, I couldn't stay away!" she cried, springing to her feet -and smiling bravely. - -"Leslie--you here--you!" And the next moment he had gathered her in his -arms and was patting the head that rested on his shoulders. - -"I'm so glad to see you, that you're alive and well," she went on -affectionately. "Colonel Morehead told me----" - -"What's Morehead doing?" broke in her father, putting her gently from -him. - -"Turning my stocks and bonds into cash, or getting a surety company -bond on them, I don't know which. Isn't it lucky, father, that I had -enough--more than enough to help you out? The Colonel says you may have -to stay here two or three nights...." - -Wilkinson was beside himself. - -"I won't--I won't stay here," he raged. "I'll take the risk----" - -"What risk?" she asked wonderingly. - -Her father sobered. - -"Oh, Leslie, I--I don't know what I'm saying. Don't mind me--I'm -unnerved, overwrought. Poor Pallister...." - -Leslie burst into tears. - -"Yes, poor, poor Roy," she murmured. "It was awful--simply awful! I -was so fond of him, father. He was always so kind, so thoughtful and -considerate, and devoted to your interests, wasn't he, father?" - -Wilkinson merely inclined his head, contenting himself with patting her -hand and saying: - -"There, there, my girl, don't cry." - -For, truth to tell, he was much too taken up with a consideration of -his own affairs to have any time for other people's troubles, much less -mourn over Roy Pallister, though, in his way, he was undoubtedly fond -of the little chap. However, after Leslie had calmed down sufficiently -to talk connectedly once more, he not only listened, but approved of -the girl's suggestion that she offer a reward, a large reward for the -discovery of the perpetrator of the dastardly crime. - -"Yes, I must know," he said to himself when once more alone in his -cell. "Flomerfelt must find out who fired that shot. Flomerfelt will -find out.... What would I do without him?" - -But the question would surely not have been asked had it been possible -for him to have overheard the conversation that took place, later, -between Mrs. Peter Wilkinson and his confidential man. - -As Flomerfelt entered the house, Mrs. Peter V. Wilkinson was waiting -for him. - -Flomerfelt was visibly excited. He removed his gloves and fell to -pacing lightly up and down the room. - -"What's the matter with you?" demanded Mrs. Peter V. - -Flomerfelt stopped before her, his white lips drawn tightly against his -teeth. - -"My, what a chance for an enemy in that big mob; and what a fumble!" - -"Were you there?" she asked. - -Flomerfelt shrugged his shoulders. - -"Trouble is something that I sidestep. I expected trouble and stayed -away." - -"You expected this?" The woman looked at him incredulously. - -"Wilkinson feared it, too, I think." - -"Why?" - -"The depositors--the mob----" - -"Was it one of the depositors who--who killed Pallister?" - -"How should I know?" And again he shrugged his shoulders, eyed his -coat-sleeves and his lean wrists, for his cuffs, obeying some unwritten -law, had crept up and out of sight. He jerked his arms again, and his -linen darted once more into view. Again he scrutinised it carefully, -first glancing upon his right hand and then upon his left. - -Mrs. Peter V. eyed him closely. - -"Doesn't anybody know who fired the shot?" - -He shook his head. - -"Some believe the depositors did it; others a personal enemy. Wilkinson -feared treachery, I think. A reward is being offered--a rather large -reward, I think--ten thousand dollars." - -The question, "By whom?" hung on her lips, but was interrupted by -Flomerfelt, who went on with: - -"It was Leslie's idea, I understand. She is beside herself--wants to -avenge Pallister." - -"Sorry about him myself," said Mrs. Peter V., seemingly sincere. It was -only when she added, "He certainly knew how to hook up waists," that -the shallowness of the woman's mind was evident. And even Flomerfelt -recoiled from her when, a moment later, she motioned to him to seat -himself by her side. - -"Who shot at Wilkinson?" she asked, persistently, drawing him closer to -her. - -Flomerfelt dismissed the subject with a wave of the hand. - -"As we remarked, it makes but little difference now. The shot went -wild." - - * * * * * - -At six o'clock that night, Eliot Beekman dined at the Iroquois Hotel in -Buffalo with J. K. Witheridge, cashier of the Bank Le Boeuf. - -"You were so successful, Mr. Beekman," said the cashier, when coffee -and cigars had arrived, "with that hopeless Cantrell mix-up of ours in -New York, that we thought we would give you a harder nut to crack. This -time our claim is for $50,000, if it's a cent." - -Beekman pricked up his ears. This was worth a hurried trip to Buffalo -and no mistake. - -"Against whom is your claim?" he asked. - -"One reason why we wanted to see you personally," the cashier went -on to explain, "is because there seems to be a good deal of secrecy -involved in this thing. Our claim is against the Tri-State Trust -Company--our funds on deposit there. We want to get them back." - -"You stand a small chance ..." quickly spoke up Beekman. "In my -opinion, Tri-State won't pay three per cent." - -"Admitting all that," conceded the cashier, "it's not the Tri-State -Trust Company that I want you to tackle; I want you to find its funds." - -"Funds? It hasn't any!" - -"Of course it hasn't, but we're satisfied--and other banks are -satisfied--that somebody's got its funds. And the fellow that gets in -first and right, is going to get his claim paid in full. That's why we -sent for you. The man we've got to fight is Peter V. Wilkinson." - -"Peter V. Wilkinson!" echoed the other. "And you say he's----" - -"We claim he's bagged the spoils." - -Beekman laughed outright. - -"Why, man, he's smashed--ruined! He hasn't got a dollar to his name. I -know him." - -"Indeed!" - -"Yes. And I'll tell you where I think you're off the track. -His daughter has money--money of her own. It came from her -mother--Wilkinson's first wife. I have no doubt that all these rumours -about Wilkinson's cash,--although this is the first I've heard about -it,--come from the fact that his daughter has money." - -"Pshaw! She has less than a million dollars--we have the facts on that. -We're not thinking about that; we believe Wilkinson has got upwards of -fifty millions packed away." - -Again Beekman laughed. - -"If you were in New York you wouldn't say that. Everybody there knows -that Wilkinson is a wreck." - -"Nevertheless we have our theory. We're willing to pay the shot," -declared Witheridge. "Now, is there any reason why I shouldn't go -on--tell you the rest--the confidential details? In other words, Mr. -Beekman, is there any reason why you should not take up this case and -probe Wilkinson to the finish?" - -Beekman thought for a while, weighing carefully the other's words. -There was reputation in this thing; moreover, he felt that it would -do Wilkinson no harm, for he was convinced of Wilkinson's honesty of -purpose. He saw no reason why honest business should be refused. More -than that, this Bank Le Boeuf had, in times past, employed him as its -counsel, and all through dinner Witheridge had been pouring praises in -his ear. - -"I hope you can take it," pressed Witheridge, "for to tell you the -truth, there's nobody in New York that we'd rather have than you. We've -that much confidence in you...." - -But Beekman still balked. - -"If I take this case, I needn't assure you, Mr. Witheridge, that you -may depend on me. The only reason why I hesitate is because I know the -man's daughter. But once I decide to take the case...." - -At that moment a waiter laid down an evening paper before Beekman; -he glanced at it, revolving the proposition the while in his mind. -Suddenly he started and cried out: - -"Great Scott! The man we're talking about--shot...." - -"Killed?" gasped Witheridge. - -"No--it's his private secretary that was killed." And with his eyes -still on the paper, "No, wait. There's more. Wilkinson is held in -three-quarter of a million bail. I heard this morning that he was -indicted, but I never expected---- And, Cæsar's ghost! They've locked -him up in the Tombs and in default of bail. That's rough!" - -"My dear Beekman," grinned Witheridge, "don't you see that it's all a -game--all but the killing? Say that you'll take the case, then I can go -on--tell you the rest." - -But whatever would have been Eliot's decision at that moment, he was -not permitted to give it utterance. For just then he heard some one -calling out his name; and, glancing up, he saw a boy approaching him -with a telegram in his hand. - -"Mr. Beekman?" asked the boy. - -Beekman took the message, which said: - - ELIOT BEEKMAN, ESQ., - Hotel Iroquois, Buffalo, N. Y. - - You are retained in People vs. Wilkinson as counsel for defence. - Take the first train for New York. - - MOREHEAD. - -After grasping its contents, Beekman quickly passed it over to his host -with the one word: "Read." And then he added: - -"This is a retainer, Mr. Witheridge, that I cannot very well refuse. -You see," he was smiling now, "I know his daughter." - - - - -IX - - -Ten men crowded into the office of Assistant District Attorney Leech, -ten men of various sizes and complexions, ten men upon whom sat -undoubted respectability, and yet in whose eyes gleamed a gnawing -anxiety--a strange excitement. - -A deputy assistant district attorney--or a d. a. d. a., as they call -them there, received the delegation coldly. - -"What in thunder is this mob doing here?" he asked. - -The ten men nodded toward their spokesman; he leaned against the d. a. -d. a.'s desk. - -"Chief clerk sent us here," he said. - -"What about?" asked his cross-examiner. - -The spokesman drew from his pocket a folded paper and opened it wide -for the other to read. - -"Ten Thousand Dollars Reward for information leading to the Conviction -of the Murderer of Roy Pallister," is what he read, after which the d. -a. d. a. looked at it curiously, and added: "Well? What then?" - -"Well," said the spokesman, as the ten men crowded closely about him, -"we've got information--see?" - -"What information?" - -For answer he drew forth a weapon--an ugly-looking weapon: a hammerless -revolver, with one chamber empty. - -The d. a. d. a. sniffed with some excitement. - -"Where did you get it?" he demanded. Surreptitiously he nodded to a -uniformed attendant, who as surreptitiously shut the door and locked it. - -"Picked it up the day young Pallister was killed," went on the -spokesman, "picked it up where the man that used it left it lying--when -he ran away." - -The assistant glanced at him sharply. - -"Why didn't you pass it over right away?" he demanded. - -The ten men shrugged their shoulders, but it was their spokesman who -explained: - -"In that crowd," he returned slowly, "there was too much excitement -already. These here saw me pick it up, and we talked about it--talked -about it slow and cold. We didn't want to be mobbed ourselves, even by -the cops; we didn't want to be taken for the murderer--you understand? -So we closed in around this gun, y'see, and we kept it close, till -now." He grinned sheepishly. "Besides," he added, "our savings has been -lost in the Tri-State Trust, and we was kind o' waitin' for somethin' -of this kind," he pointed to the advertised reward, "thinking maybe we -could even up somehow, y'see." - -"I see," returned the assistant, grimly. "I see that you had no right -to wait an instant when you got this thing in your fist." He waved his -hand. "Never mind that now, but tell me who did the killing. Did you -know the man?" - -The ten men shook their heads. - -"We seen no man," one blurted out, "a hand--that's all I see." - -"That's all we see," assented the spokesman, looking to his fellows -for affirmance, "a hand and a shot. It was all so quick. We asked -everybody; nobody seen anything--just a hand and a shot, that's all." - -The assistant frowned. - -"Do you suspect who did it?" he interrogated. - -Blankly they shook their heads. - -The d. a. d. a. shot out a forefinger. - -"Tell me about that mass meeting of the savings depositors held the -night before the murder?" he demanded, at a venture. - -They returned his query with a stare. - -"There wasn't any mass meeting that we know of," they said. - -He rapped upon the table and nodded to the uniformed attendant. - -"You know what to do," he said. - -Evidently the attendant did; for after a short space of time he -unlocked the door, and six plain-clothesmen pounced upon the spokesman. - -"But I didn't do it!" yelled the big man who had handed over the -ferocious-looking gun. - -"He didn't do it!" cried the other men behind. - -"Aw, come on!" said the officer of the law, "we'll lock the whole kit -an' boodle of you up as witnesses. What--you won't? Come on--Come on!" - -"But don't you forget that we furnished information," called back the -spokesman, "that may lead to the conviction of somebody, and when that -happens, we want that ten, y'see?" - -It was not long before the news of the discovery of the pistol became -known. So that when Leslie arrived on a visit to her father, and -asked an officer if there had been any developments in regard to her -advertisement in the paper, she was answered in the affirmative. - -"Father, dear," she cried, excitedly, when they were alone, "listen to -me. I can't sleep to-night unless it can be arranged for me to see that -pistol that was found. I have a fancy that----" She stopped short. - -"A fancy--what?" he demanded suddenly. - -"That I may have seen it once before," she continued. - -Wilkinson called an officer. - -The officer took Leslie across the bridge and into the other part of -the building where the pistol was to be seen. Its custodian watched the -girl narrowly as she looked upon it; but she gave no sign. - -"I don't believe I ever saw that one before," she volunteered. - -Back again with her father, she whispered eagerly in his ear: - -"Father, oh, father, what am I to do? That gun there is the very gun -that Giles Ilingsworth had in our house that day. It's the same--the -very same, I'm sure of it. What am I to do?" - -Wilkinson uttered an oath under his breath. - -"We'll give him up, that's what we'll do! We'll hunt him down!" he said -excitedly. "He tried to kill me, and he did kill little Pallister." - -He stood there staring at her, his face growing whiter all the time. -He was about to speak again when he was interrupted by the entrance of -Colonel Morehead. - -Through the lawyer's mind, as he looked at Wilkinson and his daughter, -a number of impressions were passing. The three days' confinement -in a cell had left its traces on the multi-millionaire: a terrible -depression was on him, his shoulders were hunched, and his eyes -lustreless. With Leslie, of course, there was no such great change, -though her lips were trembling, her eyes wide and searching, and her -figure seemed shrunken. In other words, the shadow of the Tombs -was upon them all. All--the word is used advisedly, for Morehead, -himself, was by no means in a normal condition. Veteran, though he -unquestionably was, he had shivered as if with dread the moment he had -crossed the threshold of the jail. Hundreds of times, it is true, he -had passed in and out without let or hinderance, and yet upon every -occasion this indescribable sense of dread--the clutch of terror, -the stretching out of the cold, clammy hand of penal servitude, the -horribly silent eloquence of bolt and bar--was ever present. Custom had -not staled it; it bit into him with terrible force. - -But whatever he felt, he gave no sign. To-day, as always, he had -merely nodded to the doorman as he passed in, strode down the narrow -passage-way and pushed through the turn-stile. At that point, however, -he had been confronted by the deputy warden of the jail. - -"Counsellor," asked big Bill Steen with unaccustomed caution in his -tone, "who was you looking for?" - -The Counsellor smiled. - -"You have only one of my birds shut up in your aviary, Bill. Obviously, -he's the man I wish to see." - -Big Bill nodded, still with suspicious caution. - -"Peter V. Wilkinson, I suppose?" - -"Precisely," returned the Colonel, and was starting on. - -"One moment, Counsellor," went on the deputy, detaining him. "You an' -me is old friends, and I don't want to hurt your feelings. But I have -been warned by Murgatroyd. The District Attorney is most particular -about this case." And a curious expression crossed his face, as he -added: "You must admit, Counsellor, that we don't often have a guy -locked up here--worth millions and charged with larceny, forgery and -perjury, all at once, and who's waitin' for three-quarters of a million -bail." - -"No, it isn't an everyday occurrence, I acknowledge. Now, will you -bring him down, or shall I go up to him?" - -Again the deputy shook his head. - -"Counsellor, District Attorney Murgatroyd says be careful, and I got -to, even with an old friend like you. If there's any attempt at an -escape,--and a man who's said to be worth millions and wants to get out -of jail--well, sometimes, locks will turn and bars will break. I don't -know that it would take so many millions to----" - -Colonel Morehead looked straight into the eyes of big Bill Steen, with -that confidential look which had won him many juries. - -"Bill," he said, under his breath, "suppose he wasn't worth -millions--only a fraction of a million! And suppose he couldn't get -bail! How much would you take, Bill, to let him go? How much? A hundred -thousand, two hundred, a quarter of a million? Come--say the word." - -The deputy indignantly drew away. - -"Counsellor," he protested, "you couldn't touch me with ten million. I -wouldn't let him off for that." - -Morehead's smile was not a pleasant one. - -"Steen," he went on severely, "you'll let him off for less. Oh, yes, -yes you will; I know all about you, one hour won't pass before you'll -be sending a man upstairs to let Wilkinson out. Come, call it a hundred -and fifty thousand.... No? Then two ... two and a half----" - -"Not on your life!" returned Steen, raising a deprecating hand. - -Colonel Morehead fixed his hypnotic eye upon the other, drew himself up -to his full height, thrust his hand into his breast-pocket, pulled out -a paper, and held it under the nose of Steen. - -"Look at that, Bill," he insisted, "and see whether my prophecy comes -true." - -The deputy warden opened the paper, glanced at it and grinned. - -"Quit your kiddin', Counsellor! Why didn't you say all along that you'd -given bail?" - -"You can send it to your friend Murgatroyd," concluded Morehead, "and -make sure it's O. K. I'll go up to Wilkinson." - -Colonel Morehead, on leaving the warden, was suddenly conscious of a -feeling of disgust. With an effort, however, he shook it off, and there -was a semblance, at least, of a smile on his face when he appeared, as -has been said, before Wilkinson and his daughter in the counsel room. - -"They're going to let you out, Peter," he announced, seating himself at -a table and squaring his elbows, "and right away." - -"I thought they never would," was Wilkinson's answer. "These three days -have seemed more like three years to me.... So you got it through, did -you? Surety Company fix it up ...?" - -"I got the Court to reduce the bail to half a million; your daughter -Leslie and the Surety Company did the rest." - -Leslie started. - -"I! Why I didn't know that I did anything?" - -Colonel Morehead smiled. - -"You assigned two-thirds of your own fortune--stocks and bonds--to the -surety company to secure them. So if Peter V. skips his bail--runs -away,"--he was leering at him now,--"you stand to lose, you see." - -"Runs away," repeated Leslie. The words were like music to her ears. -"What a splendid idea! It would be the best way out of it, after all. -You could take the _Marchioness_," she went on enthusiastically, "and -steam to the ends of the earth!" - -"Haven't I told you, Colonel, that she was a hard-headed little -proposition," said her father, with a good deal of pride. "Not a bad -idea, the _Marchioness_. Now, if--if I were guilty, instead of being -innocent...." - -Colonel Morehead grunted. - -"Do you think that your steam yacht the _Marchioness_ is any match for -District Attorney Murgatroyd? He'd find you even in uncharted seas, and -bring you back." - -"It's all O. K., Counsellor," called out Bill Steen, tapping on the -door; "you can go now!" - -Steen unlocked the door of the dingy little room. And as Peter -Wilkinson started to go, Steen intercepted him and held out his hand, -hesitated a moment, and finally said: - -"It ain't often that we have a man of your standing, Mr. Wilkinson, in -our hotel. Would you mind a-shakin' hands before you go?" - -Wilkinson shook hands with a will. - -"Here's hoping that we may never see you here again," said Steen, -cordially. - -"You can be sure of that," answered Wilkinson, with just the ghost of -a smile on his lips. At the entrance he stood an instant and looked -up into the sky. "Free," he breathed, as to himself. Leslie clung to -his arm, and pressed her hand against her face. They started down the -steps, but Wilkinson drew back. - -"The crowds--the crowds--they'll mob me again!" he cried, his huge -frame shaking like a leaf. - -Morehead caught him firmly by the arm. - -"Come, Peter, brace up, take a big grip on yourself!" were his -reassuring words. "There's no mob, no one who knows you, anyhow. You -don't look so different from a lot of other men." - -Wilkinson shook himself and clenched his hands. - -"I'm all right now," he declared, "I lost my nerve in there." After a -long intake of breath, he added: "That's the last time they'll ever get -me in there, the last time, mark my words, Morehead. There were times -when I came near biting the bars. Think of me being locked up!" They -had reached the corner of the street. He halted. "There was a chap in -the cell next to mine," he went on, "who'd been sent up for five years. -Think of it! He was waiting to be taken up the river any day--didn't -seem to mind it, either. Five years in a place like that----" - -"The machine's around on Lafayette Street," interrupted the Colonel. "I -thought it better...." - -"Right," declared Wilkinson. "But we don't need it yet." - -Leslie turned to Colonel Morehead; her eyes were bright, her cheeks red -with excitement. - -"Why did my father have to stay in there; can you tell me that?" she -asked. - -"The bail was stupendous. I had arranged for reasonable bail; but this -was unusual," the Colonel explained. "But that's not all--the surety -companies had been warned." - -"Warned! Did you say warned not to give bail when they were secured?" -she cried. - -"Warned," repeated Morehead, "not to furnish bail without being sure -that they were secure." - -"Who warned them?" echoed Wilkinson, incredulous. - -"The _Morning Mail_," began the Colonel, but was interrupted by -Wilkinson: - -"Phew! And who owns the _Morning Mail_?" - -Morehead smiled. - -"Check and countercheck," he grinned. "Ougheltree and his gang have -just bought it." Turning to Leslie, he explained that Ougheltree was -the President of the Twentieth Century National Bank. "The National -Banks have formed in line to fight the Trust Companies," he told her, -"because the Trust Companies, having bigger powers, attract more -people. And they've opened fire on your father, first, and his string -of Trust Companies." And now once more he turned to Wilkinson, and -laying his hand on the other's shoulder, he said: "Do you know what I -was thinking just this morning? I think you ought to buy a daily paper. -I do, indeed! This is a crisis----" - -"But I already own a paper," objected Wilkinson. - -"I mean a good one. My idea would be to buy--well, say the _Daily -Reporter_. It's a crackerjack sheet that's just begun to go down hill. -It can be bought cheap, too." - -Leslie tightened her grasp on her father's arm. - -"Let me buy it for you, father, that is, if there's money enough left -to buy it with." - -Morehead's attention was directed afresh toward Leslie. - -"Let me go on, Miss Leslie," he continued. "There were other reasons -why haste was inadvisable. The _Morning Mail_, owned by this gang of -national bankers, is trying to poison public opinion against your -father. If we had instantly snapped a bail bond of three-quarters of a -million dollars on the files, the _Mail_ would have charged Peter V. -Wilkinson with being a rich man still, having the money of the masses -in his coat-tail pocket. It was wise and necessary, too, for me to -forestall this. I gave to every newspaper in the city the pedigree -of the stocks and bonds that you put up, showing that they were the -individual property of your mother, and had come down to you direct. -The result is that the _Morning Mail_ had not a word to say. We've got -to be mighty careful," he concluded, "about public opinion. For there's -a trial waiting for us out there in the future." - -There was determination in the girl's voice as she answered excitedly: - -"And we'll win it, too!" - -Wilkinson snorted. - -"Of course we'll win!" he cried. - -"We'll win," conceded Morehead, "but only after some shrewd -counsellor-at-law--naming no names--has mapped out the campaign." - -"That reminds me," said Wilkinson, "that we must put Flomerfelt on to -this." - -"Never mind Flomerfelt just now," advised Morehead. "Our first step is -to buy a live newspaper and start in. And the first thing that's going -to be chalked up to the methods of the _Morning Mail_, is the murderous -mob that's responsible for the murder of Pallister three days ago." - -They had started for Lafayette Street, but Wilkinson held them back. - -"Who's going to try my case, Morehead?" he queried. "Which one of -Murgatroyd's men?" - -Colonel Morehead smiled enigmatically. - -"Assistant District Attorney J. Newton Leech is the man. My information -is direct--direct from the inside." - -Wilkinson literally dragged them across the street. - -"Come on," he said, "we'll go in and see Assistant District Attorney -Leech right away." - -Morehead interposed, and demanded: - -"What for?" - -"Just to--er--throw a sop to Cerberus," said Wilkinson. "Come, come -along with me." - -Wilkinson's cringing manner of a little while before had left him. His -shoulders once more were straight, his Van Dyke belligerent. He had -assumed his position as a leader of men. - -"Both you and Leslie come along with me," he repeated. "I'm going to -scratch Leech's back, and maybe, one of these days, he'll scratch mine." - -They were ushered forthwith into the Assistant District Attorney's -outer office. His private door was open, and they could hear his even -voice within. His tones were mingled, however, with those of a woman--a -pleading, tearful woman, judging from her voice. Wilkinson's card was -sent in to Leech; and the instant that the Assistant District Attorney -saw it, his straight lips widened into a pleasant smile. He came out to -greet the three almost instantly, singled out Morehead and held out his -hand. - -"Colonel," he said in his sprightly and yet confidential manner, -"mighty glad to see you." And now turning his gaze on Wilkinson, he -added: "I'm afraid, Mr. Wilkinson, that you won't care to shake hands -with me; but I assure you I won't bite--not just yet, at any rate." - -Wilkinson shook hands warmly, and haw-hawed in a most approved and -business-like manner. Leech now turned swiftly to Leslie, and then -stopped, embarrassed. - -"Miss Wilkinson," began Colonel Morehead. - -"Mr. Leech, this is my daughter, Miss Wilkinson," said Peter V., -snatching the words from the Colonel's mouth, and then without giving -Leech the opportunity to make the usual acknowledgment, he hurriedly -went on in a loud, commanding voice: "Now, Leslie, dear, I want you to -tell Assistant District Attorney Leech of the threats that this man -Ilingsworth made to you the other day." - -"I beg your pardon," said Leech, stepping to the inner door and closing -it quietly, for Wilkinson's words had brought an exclamation to the -lips of the woman in the adjoining room, that had reached his ears. -Leech came back almost instantly and placed chairs for them all. - -"Tell him all you know, Leslie," commanded her father. - -The girl's breath came quick and short. Her father's words had come as -a shock to her, and she looked about her helplessly. - -"Father, I'd much prefer not," she protested. - -Morehead did not altogether approve of the proceeding, chiefly because -he had not been consulted upon it, and he interjected gravely: - -"Are we sure, Mr. Wilkinson, that she knows anything of the affair?" - -Wilkinson did not deign even to glance at his counsel, and ignoring the -girl's protests, and brushing aside or rather pushing his way through -her objections, as was his wont, with his shoulders, he repeated: - -"Leslie, I want you to tell Assistant District Attorney Leech all that -you know about this man Ilingsworth--all--you understand." - -Leslie, with difficulty, controlled herself, and cried out: - -"Father, this is a--a case of murder. I can't be the accuser.... Don't -drag me into it--please...." - -A dull red, angry colour crept up over Wilkinson's collar, and his eyes -flashed. - -"Leslie, don't you understand what this man Ilingsworth has done? He's -killed my private secretary Pallister! It's your duty.... How are you -going to escape ...?" - -Leech tiptoed back to the door of his private office and gently closed -the transom, which was open. - -"In order to relieve you, Miss Wilkinson," he now said, and his voice -was reassuring, "I may as well tell you that we have established, -beyond all doubt, proofs of Ilingsworth's guilt. We have people who say -they saw him in the crowd; we've found the man who sold him the gun, -and we've shown him Ilingsworth's photograph, which he identifies as -unquestionably the man." - -"But you haven't got Ilingsworth?" quickly interposed Morehead. - -"Not yet," and Leech fastened his eyes on Leslie. "Can you have any -idea as to where he is?" - -The three dissented silently. - -"We'll get him yet," smiled Leech. "It is rare that we do not succeed -in landing a person when once we start out to," he went on, his glance -shifting to Wilkinson, who met it in open and genial defiance. - -"You--you have time to hear what my daughter has to say?" asked -Wilkinson, and without waiting for an answer, he added: "I think now is -the time to take it down--and----" - -Leech rose abruptly. - -"Miss Wilkinson, you would know this man Ilingsworth, I suppose, if you -saw him?" - -"Yes," faltered Leslie, "I should know the man. But his pictures in -the daily papers--I should never have known him from those." - -"Just a moment, until I get his photograph," whispered the Assistant -District Attorney, opening the inside door; presently he returned, -closing the door again behind him, and advancing towards them he -resumed confidingly: "The fact is, I've got Ilingsworth's daughter -inside there. I shouldn't be surprised if she knew where the old man -is, either, though she insists that she does not, and----" - -Wilkinson grunted. - -"And you're practising third-degree tactics on her, I suppose," he said. - -"Well, not exactly that, but persuasion--polite persuasion, that's -all," explained the Assistant District Attorney, smiling. He stepped -once more toward the inner door, and Leslie, obeying some hidden -impulse, darted quickly to his side. - -"Will you let me see her without being seen," she pleaded. "He told me -all about her--her name is Elinor." - -"Stand here, then," whispered Leech, and opening the door swiftly, he -passed over to the window and held the girl within in conversation -while he searched among his papers, and in such a manner that -three-quarters of her countenance was turned toward Leslie. One glance -at the pretty face of the girl was sufficient to satisfy Leslie that -Elinor Ilingsworth was in great distress, and taking her place beside -her father, she whispered: - -"Oh, father, you should see her. She's in great trouble, and yet she -looks so--so pretty." Genuine anguish shone from Leslie's eyes as she -now turned from her father to Colonel Morehead, and asked: - -"Who's going to take care of her? What's to become of her now?" - -Leech had returned by this time and was holding before Leslie a -half-tone photograph of Giles Ilingsworth. - -"That's the man!" cried Leslie, seizing the picture. She turned it -over and glanced involuntarily at the inscription on the back. "Taken -particularly for my daughter Elinor," it said. "Affectionately her -father, G. I. Sept. 190----" - -Leslie's eyes reproached Leech. - -"You make this girl an instrument in her father's destruction," she -said indignantly, little understanding what part she might play later -in her own father's affairs. - -Leech, who seemed to take a very business-like pleasure in feasting his -eyes upon Leslie's face, merely nodded, and after a moment's silence he -said: - -"You forget, Miss Wilkinson, that we have our duty to perform. A man -who murders is not entitled to so very much consideration, after all." -He looked at the photograph in her hand. "If you're sure that this is -the man you know as Giles Ilingsworth, you might tell me briefly what -he said. It is not vital," he went on hastily, "that is, we can make -a case without it. But we want--and Mr. Wilkinson is good enough to -offer----" - -"Mr. Leech," broke in Wilkinson, seeking the Assistant District -Attorney's glance, which he held to the end, "let me be understood. -This man Ilingsworth killed a man in my employ--to be exact, my private -secretary, my friend. I want to put myself on record here and now: -Whenever a man tries to do me an injury, whenever a man tries to hound -me--hound me, understand, as this man Ilingsworth did,"--he paused for -an instant,--"his gun was aimed at me, don't you forget that--why, -I camp on that man's trail until I land him. And conversely, if a -man does me a favour,"--again there was a pause to let the fact sink -home,--"I never forget it. Now, Leslie," he concluded, "you may proceed -with the facts, and tell us about the man who tried to kill your father -in cold blood." - -Leslie's recital consisted of the threats Ilingsworth had made. -Wilkinson supplemented it with his statement as to the unwarranted -attack on himself by Ilingsworth in front of Wilkinson's house on the -Drive on that eventful evening a short while before. Leech took no -notes of these statements, but merely tucked away the details to be -dictated to his stenographer later in the privacy of his inner room. - -"That's all, Mr. Leech," said Wilkinson, rising, and, holding out his -hand, the other shook it genially. - -"By the way, who's going to try the Ilingsworth case for the People?" -inquired Morehead, hoping to take the Assistant District Attorney off -his guard. - -"Nobody knows yet," snapped the Assistant District Attorney, in a -manner to remind the Colonel gently but forcefully that it was nobody's -business but the People's. - -At the outer door, Leslie held them for a moment. - -"If there was any way to," she faltered, "I'd like to know what's going -to happen to--to that girl inside. I----" - -Wilkinson winked at Morehead. - -"Why, girlie," he exclaimed, "Ilingsworth's stolen millions will take -care of her!" - -Leslie brightened up. - -"To be sure," she answered. "I--I never thought of that. I'd forgotten -all about the fact that he had money still." - -"He reeks with money," added Morehead, returning Wilkinson's wink. "And -now, for the machine." - -Twenty minutes later Wilkinson stalked into the presence of his wife -and Beekman. It was late afternoon, and Beekman was to dine with them -that night. Wilkinson bowed ostentatiously to Mrs. Wilkinson, and -commented: - -"Overpowered, my dear, absolutely overpowered by your attentions to me -while I was in the Tombs. I actually felt like a bachelor again." - -"How could any man expect a lady to go there?" she asked, glaring at -Beekman, and evidently expecting him to come to her aid, but as no -comment was forthcoming from that gentleman, she concluded her remark -by saying: "Not for the best man alive would I trail down into that -dirty, dingy place." - -Wilkinson groaned with disgust. - -"Nevertheless, there were some women," he reminded her, "who came -there, clad in rags, and stood, stood, stood on their tired feet all -day long, outside the cells of the men they loved. They were wives, -mostly wives, too, for I heard what they had to say...." He, too, -appealed to Beekman. "It's worth while, Beekman," he wound up, a trifle -sadly, "to be loved for yourself alone, and not for your money, isn't -it?" - -The mistress of the house lifted up her voice in raucous mirth. - -"I don't see, Peter," she returned, "that you have any money to be -loved for now." - -"Hence," commented her lord and master, while Beekman grew hot and cold -by turns at this free and easy bickering, "hence you didn't come down -to the Tombs. But," his forefinger shot out and, figuratively speaking, -touched her on a vital spot, "you made a big mistake! If you'd been -there the artists of the daily press would have had you shown up in -forty different poses for Sunday. I had the devil's own time in keeping -Leslie's face from getting in. But yours--I could have had it in every -hour of the day without its costing me one penny." - -The lady leaned forward in genuine eagerness, and asked: - -"Is that true, Peter? I thought they had abandoned me--left me on the -shelf. But if it's true, I promise to be there every day the next time -you're locked up." - -Peter V. paled perceptibly. - -"There isn't going to be any next time," he laughed. "Eliot Beekman's -going to see to that." - -Meantime in the Colonial drawing-room, Leslie was enjoying a quiet -tête-à-tête with Colonel Morehead. - -"It was the nicest thing in the world, Colonel," she was telling him, -"your picking out Eliot Beekman for--for father. And I believe you're -right. Mr. Beekman is so honest, so earnest, and so convincing. And he -looks you in the eye so." - -"Um, how does he look you in the eye?" returned the Colonel, meeting -her gaze. - -But Leslie, flushing, had already fled. - -It was hours later, when alone with Beekman, she looked into his eyes -squarely, as was her habit, and asked falteringly: - -"Do you know, Mr.--Mr. Beekman----" - -Beekman stopped her. - -"Begin again," he commanded, "you can do better than that." - -"Mr.... Mr...." she started in, but again Beekman protested. - -"Now look here, I'm only one of six lawyers in your father's case. -Every last man of 'em calls you Leslie--even Patrick Durand, and I'm -going to call you Leslie, too. It's a part of my duties, as your -father's counsel in the case. Therefore, you begin again, and begin it -right." - -There was a moment's pause in which Leslie averted her face. - -"Eliot," she finally whispered, in gentle tones, her eyes coming back -to his, "I think it is perfectly fine of you to help father in this -way. Don't you know," she went on, "you said that night on the way home -from Mrs. Pallet-Searing's, that you wished you could do something for -him, help him some way. And now you've buckled on your armour in his -defence." - -"Hold on there!" called out Beekman, in alarm. "Wait a bit! Is that -what you call it-- my helping him? Why, there are just about ten -thousand lawyers in the Borough of Manhattan who'd give their eyes to -get the job. And, besides, don't laud me yet. Great Heavens, Leslie! -Don't you understand that I've got a fat retainer in my pocket for all -this?" - -The girl laughed in glee. - -"So much the better!" she exclaimed. Presently her brow wrinkled and -she demanded: "Who paid it to you, Eliot?" - -"Colonel Morehead," quickly spoke up Beekman. - -"I wonder where he got the money?" she mused, then she laughed once -more. "Probably my money," she said. "Wouldn't it be great if I were -paying you for this?" - -"It would," answered Beekman in mock solemnity, "because, getting this -much out of your coffers, I should have hopes in time of depleting your -funds to a very large extent, so that some day in the future, having -flim-flammed you out of a large proportion of your worldly wealth, I -should then stand on that footing of American equality I mentioned to -you the other night, and might, in turn, 'with all these worldly goods -I thee endow'----" - -"Don't you be too sure," she said seriously. - -Nor was it given to them to know what the fates had in store for them, -that the time was soon to come when Beekman should be on that equal -footing, to which he referred, and, what is more, that he was to stand -as the one man in the state, the cynosure of all eyes, his name on -every lip. - -"At any rate," she went on, "it's fine of you to fight.... You're going -to fight, aren't you?" - -He looked over her head far into the future. It was all hazy there, but -in his ambitious purposes Beekman recognised that he held within his -grasp the one big opportunity of his career. - -"Fight," he echoed, "to the last ditch." - -"And so am I," she went on enthusiastically. "We'll all fight, and -we'll win; we're bound to win." - -"We're bound to win," he repeated, the blood surging through his veins. -"And when we win--what then?" He looked deep into her eyes; but she -cast them down before him. - -"Let's win first," she faltered. - -If only there had been a warning hand, a friendly voice to tell him -what lay before him in the future! For could he have heard Wilkinson's -words, that very afternoon, to the Assistant District Attorney: "The -man who does me a favour I never forget; the man who injures me I never -forgive,"--he might have thought twice before replying: - -"It's a go. You're quite right. We'll win first." - - - - -X - - -"You ought to have been there, Patrick! By jinks, you had ...!" -exclaimed Wilkinson some months later as he watched the rings of smoke -from his cigar float upwards to the ceiling of the Millionaires' Club. -"I fixed him, didn't I, Colonel?" - -Colonel Morehead thought a moment before replying: - -"I shouldn't wonder if you did, Peter. You furnished the evidence of -deliberation--that essential element in a murder case--the lying in -wait. Yes, your admirable efforts in that direction will probably land -Ilingsworth in the chair." - -"Probably! Oh, thunder," put in Patrick Durand, one of the cleverest -criminal lawyers in the city, "that man Ilingsworth is dead already!" - -Colonel Morehead placed the finger-tips of one hand against those of -the other as he made answer: - -"If he'd been merely one of a crowd of maddened depositors, acting -in the heat of passion, it would have been second degree, without a -doubt. And yet,"--and the Colonel darted sharp glances first at Durand -and then toward his client,--"in my opinion, the star witness of the -prosecution was your daughter Leslie. The jury believed every word -that she said." - -And indeed such had been the case at Ilingsworth's trial. Assistant -District Attorney Leech had made no mistake in the order of summoning -his witnesses. After her father, bluff, arrogant and eager--and -over-willingness is a bad virtue in a witness--had finished his -testimony, Leslie had taken the stand and had wholly removed the bad -impression Wilkinson had made on the jury through his evident desire -that Ilingsworth should be convicted. Moreover, Leech had trained the -girl, as he did all his witnesses, to answer the essential facts, -and nothing else. And to make his task all the easier, Ilingsworth's -lawyer, a hanger-on of the criminal courts--for Ilingsworth had had -no funds to employ first-class counsel, and a prisoner without money -is a doomed man in New York--had wallowed through the trial without -a glimmering of common sense. From the first, as might have been -expected, he had played directly into the hands of the People. But his -blundering had not been without its interesting side--interesting, at -least, to a few of his hearers. For despite the Assistant District -Attorney's strenuous objections, the Court had overruled his contention -that the entire conversation between Giles Ilingsworth and Leslie that -memorable afternoon was irrelevant and immaterial, and in consequence -the good-for-nothing lawyer had led Leslie on to tell in detail all -of Ilingsworth's grave charges against her father. And it was at that -point, and barely before the girl had uttered two hundred words, -that a reporter of the _Morning Mail_ had succeeded in wriggling -his way through the lawyers inside the rail, and had not crept back -into his place and resumed the taking of copious notes until the -court stenographer to whom he had whispered: "Say, old man, I want -all this, word for word, by two o'clock, at any price," had nodded -his willingness to accept the fifty-dollar bill that he was sure the -_Morning Mail_ must vouchsafe him for this hurry job. - -And so it happened that an hour later the _Morning Mail_ man was -telling Mr. Ougheltree of the Twentieth Century Bank and head of the -bankers clique that owned the _Mail_, that he had to stand by this man -Ilingsworth from start to finish. And as a result of this interview -the few spectators at the afternoon session of the court had heard the -celebrated Worth Higgins inform the Court that he had been retained to -conduct the case for the defence, as well as the Court's complimentary -remarks in reply. - -But Worth Higgins had been of little service to the defendant, though -he had drawn from his witnesses, especially Ilingsworth, all that -they knew or suspected about Wilkinson's management of the seventeen -bankrupt trust companies--a feat which, as will readily be imagined, -was all that the _Morning Mail_ required of him. In truth, Higgins had -done Ilingsworth more harm than good. The defendant had deliberately -purchased a gun; had lain in wait; had shot a man down in cold blood. -Not the man he had aimed at, it is true, but the principle was the same. - -"Will the defendant deny that he did the shooting?" had been Higgins' -query to Boggs. - -"Of course he will," had been his fellow-counsel's answer. "He's as -innocent as a new-born babe." - -And with that Higgins had put the defendant on the stand and heard him -deny it--a weak, wabbling denial it was, in reality merely a recital of -his wrongs. - -"That's all," Higgins said, when the testimony was over, and then he -had added in an aside to his junior: "His goose is cooked." - -Nevertheless, at the suggestion of the _Morning Mail_ man, he had taken -all the exceptions possible, remarking to that gentleman's intimation -that the case was going up for an appeal: "A good thing it is, for it's -a gone case here." - -And Higgins had been quite right. For, a short time after this the jury -had filed back and pronounced the one word of doom. - -In common with everyone in the court-room, save Ilingsworth and his -daughter, Leslie had expected just such an ending. All through the -trial she had longed for the words that would relieve her from the -thraldom of uncertainty in which she was held; yet when the foreman -had pronounced the verdict it had shocked her inexpressibly, left her -indescribably sad. For some moments she had struggled to regain her -composure, and fearful of a break-down, she had fled, but not in time -to escape seeing Ilingsworth slump down into his seat with a faint -moan. At the door the sound of many voices and exclamations of pity -had reached her ears. She halted, and looking back she saw that the -commotion was the result of some woman who had fainted. And then it -was that she saw, too, the never-to-be-forgotten picture of Elinor -Ilingsworth, friendless and helpless, looking hopelessly down upon -her father while she endeavoured to soothe him with endearing words. -Impulsively Leslie had started back, a vague intention of putting her -arms around the girl's neck, of taking possession of her, as it were, -and carrying her, who needed care so much, to her own home. But like -a flash the futility of such a course had dawned upon her. For the -realisation had been borne in upon her that it was her own testimony, -more than anyone else's, that had been the means of convicting the -girl's father; and that for her to offer words of sympathy to the -daughter would be a mockery if not an insult. It was, therefore, with -a sigh that Leslie had again retraced her steps, forcing herself to be -content with giving the girl a glance of infinite pity. - - * * * * * - -"Conceding that Leslie's testimony did for him," Wilkinson was now -saying to his cronies at his club, gulping down his Scotch, "conceding -that, but who set her on--made her testify? It was I who bit into that -fellow's heel, and don't you forget that I'm proud of it." - -Morehead stared through the cloud of collecting smoke. - -"I wish, Patrick," he proceeded to say to Durand, in his own calm way, -"that you could have been there for just one reason: I am anxious to -know whether my view of the effect of Peter's testimony on the jury is -correct." - -Patrick Durand waved his hand. - -"You ought to know, Colonel." - -"Don't you think it had a good effect on 'em, Morehead?" queried his -client. - -Morehead rose and stretched his legs, and without glancing, even, at -Wilkinson, he said bluntly: - -"Durand, I watched them closely--each one of the twelve. And, mark my -words, if it hadn't been for Leslie, I don't believe one man in the -twelve would have believed a word that Peter said." - -Wilkinson turned red. - -"What the devil do you mean, Morehead?" he roared. "Is this an insult?" - -Morehead never flinched. - -"Sit down, Wilkinson," he commanded curtly. "I'm talking to Mr. Durand. -What do you think, Patrick?" - -Patrick Durand glanced over the rims of his glasses at the ceiling. - -"Representative men, were they, Colonel?" he asked. - -"A good mixture," said the Colonel. "I never saw a better...." - -Durand drew a long breath. - -"It looks bad--mighty bad, Colonel, for us," he observed calmly. - -"What do you mean? How bad for us?" insisted Wilkinson, his face still -red with the imputation cast upon him. - -Durand looked at him long and searchingly, doubtful whether to take him -into their confidence or not. Presently he said: - -"It's just this, Brother Wilkinson: If an ordinary jury isn't going to -believe a man when he tells the truth, what are they going to do when -he deliberately lies?" - -"But hang it, man," exploded Wilkinson, "I didn't lie; I told the -truth." - -"Yes, Wilkinson, you told the truth in this Ilingsworth case, but it's -your own case we're thinking about. There'll be a jury in that, too." - -"You fellows make me tired," growled Wilkinson. "My case--if it ever -comes to trial----" - -"Oh, don't you worry about that! It will come to trial, all right," put -in Flomerfelt, speaking for the first time, and helping himself to a -fresh cigar. - -"It won't if my overtures to District Attorney Murgatroyd are -accepted," retorted Peter V. - -The two eminent counsel lifted up their eyes in mild surprise. - -"You don't mean to say you're going to bribe Murgatroyd?" came in -chorus. - -"Why not?" - -"You've got enough indictments against you already, Peter," they warned -him, "without having Murgatroyd charge you with an attempt to bribe." - -"No, indeed, you can't bribe Murgatroyd," spoke up Flomerfelt, with a -knowing smile. "Though I'll tell you what, Colonel," he went on, "there -is a chap who's not above suspicion on that staff." - -Morehead winked. - -"The hold-over from the last administration?" - -"You mean Leech?" gasped Wilkinson. - -Flomerfelt nodded. - -"It's better to hear you say the name than to say it ourselves, Peter," -remarked Morehead. - -"Why, then the case needn't come to trial!" exclaimed Peter V., -joyously. "We can get at Leech." - -"Not in a hundred years!" ejaculated Flomerfelt. "Murgatroyd stands -behind these indictments in your case, don't you forget that. And even -if Leech tries them, Murgatroyd will be there to see.... The Assistant -District Attorney won't be able to move out of the beaten track. Your -case will come to trial, never fear." - -"Well, then, let it come," grunted Wilkinson, a little ruffled by the -demeanour of Flomerfelt and his counsel. "But by that time this man -Ilingsworth will be dead; we'll shove everything on him." - -"I don't believe Ilingsworth will be dead," remarked Morehead. "Indeed -I do not." - -"Well, even if he isn't," retorted Wilkinson, huskily, "he's wholly -discredited. A man who'll murder may commit other crimes; the jury will -believe anything of Ilingsworth by the time we're through with him." - -Morehead held up his hand. - -"Durand and I have gone over this whole thing; have looked up every man -on Flomerfelt's list; they won't stick to us, that's all. Wilkinson, -your crowd are down on you. And what's more, the _Morning Mail_ now -stands behind Ilingsworth, and they're going to stick by him. So if we -make this attempt to unload iniquity on Ilingsworth and fail, we'll -do two things we don't want to do: One is, we'll make the dangerous -admission that there has been iniquity; and the other, psychological -problem as it is, is quite as much to be feared----" - -"Fire ahead," interrupted Wilkinson. - -"I'm banking on Beekman--banking on his personality with his jury, and -I don't want the ghost of a doubt to show in his face. That's why I -sent him to Europe. Of course we need the evidence he's getting over -there--it's good stuff. But I sent him now in order that he shouldn't -even read, save in a casual way, this story of Ilingsworth. A true -story is a mighty bad story, Peter. So we'll cut Ilingsworth out of -this case. If the People produce him--and I'm satisfied they won't--why -we'll try to get him on the cross-examination. Durand and I have talked -it all over, and our game is going to be a game of denial from start to -finish. I doubt whether the People make out the case against you. If -they don't we've got 'em nailed. And if the judge sends the case to the -jury, we'll deny everything the People put up against us. But it's a -lucky thing for you that they'll believe your daughter Leslie." - -"It's a pity, Wilkinson," said Flomerfelt, with something like a -sneer, "that while you were about it, you didn't swing this thing in a -more careful way. Of course it's too late now. You bit off more than -you could chew that time! You thought you could get away with the -goods--got careless! I've seen many a safecracker do the same thing." - -Wilkinson flushed. - -"Do you mean to compare me with----" he began; but Flomerfelt left the -question unanswered. - -"This is no Sunday-school picnic, and you may as well understand it -now, Peter," said Morehead. "We've got to work for our living in this -case, and you've got to do your share, have got to understand that it's -a running fight from now on to the end." - -"I'll do my part," Wilkinson assured them, burying his hands in his -pockets. "But I want you to find out who the judge is going to be, and -when the time comes, give me the names of the jury, and I'll get at -them all right." - -Colonel Morehead rose to his lanky height and clutched the shoulder of -his opulent client. - -"Wilkinson," he cried, shaking a lean hand in the other's face, "you -don't know what you're talking about! And you might as well make up -your mind now that you can't touch Murgatroyd, and you can't touch the -Court. And Murgatroyd is there to see that you don't touch the jury. -We--Durand and I--have got charge of this thing. You keep your hands -off...." - -"But you're going to pull me out, aren't you?" - -" ... In our own way. So far I've always had my own way in my cases," -declared Patrick Durand, "and if I can't have it in this one, why, I'll -retire, that's all." - -"Yes, you must do as they say, Peter V." advised Flomerfelt, suavely, -and then lowering his voice so that the others should not hear, he -added: "If in the course of human events it should become necessary to -lay a bribe in order to get you clear, I'll attend to that myself." - - - - -XI - - -"Guilty, your Honour." - -The voice was the tremulous voice of the foreman of a jury. His hand -shook as it held the slip of paper from which he read the portentous -words. - -The Court leaned over toward him. - -"I didn't catch that," said the Court. - -Once more the foreman drew himself together, and moistened his lips -before he repeated in shrill tones: - -"Guilty, your Honour--guilty as charged in the indictment." - -For a brief moment there was a silence; then the spacious court-room -broke into subdued uproar. - -"Jumpin' Jerusalem, I didn't think they'd have the nerve to do -it!" came from a voice somewhere in the crowd; and judging from -the expression on the faces of the people, this remark was fairly -indicative of their opinion. - -The Court rapped for silence, and nodded to Beekman, the active counsel -for the defence. - -"If the Court please," began Beekman, his face pale, and his voice -trembling with surprise and disappointment, "we move to set aside the -verdict and for a new trial on the ground that the verdict is against -the weight of evidence, against the charge of the Court, contrary -to...." - -A heavy hand was laid upon Beekman's arm. - -"Hold on there! I want that jury polled!" The speaker of these words -was Peter V. Wilkinson; for this trial was his trial; and this verdict -was the verdict in his case. "Morehead, get 'em to poll that jury!" -Again he spoke as one accustomed to command, and not as a prisoner -before the bar. - -"Poll the jury," directed the Court. - -The clerk started to obey. - -"Now, Morehead," went on Wilkinson in a hoarse whisper, "I want you to -place in my hands--my hands, you understand--the name and address of -every mother's son upon that jury. I won't forget 'em, let me tell you -that." - -"John T. Wyatt," droned the clerk. - -And Wyatt, juror, stiffened for an instant, hesitated, and then taking -a big grip on himself, answered as his foreman had: "Guilty." Every man -in the box made the same answer; but as every man voiced his verdict, -he met the sullen, defiant, vengeful gaze of a man who never forgot, -who never forgave, and each man felt that instant as if, somehow, he -were in the tightening grasp of the big millionaire at the counsel -table. - -"Now make your motions, Beekman," whispered Morehead. - -And Beekman made a motion to set aside the verdict; made a motion in -arrest of judgment; made a motion for a new trial. - -Wilkinson watched the face of the Court as he had watched the faces of -the jurymen. - -"This is Gilchrist's chance to square himself, Morehead," he announced -huskily. "He's got to give us a new trial, or we'll know the reason -why." - -But Judge Gilchrist merely swept the court-room with a weary glance. - -"Motion denied," he said briefly, and with as much concern as if he -brushed away a fly. He now turned to the jury. "Gentlemen," he went on -gratefully, "you are discharged for the balance of the week--after this -long, protracted trial--with the thanks of the Court, for the fairness, -justice and impartiality of your verdict. Good-day, gentlemen." - -"Wha--what!" gasped Wilkinson in a voice that could be heard all over -the court-room. "Does he mean to say that this verdict is just--does -he, Morehead?" - -Colonel Morehead frowned with vexation. - -"Keep quiet, Wilkinson," was all he said. - -The Court waited until the jury had filed out, watching them as they -went. Then his glance returned to the coterie of counsel at the table. - -"Counsellor," he remarked to Beekman, "what day will be most convenient -to you for sentence? And you, Mr. Leech?" - -Up to this time Leslie, who had been sitting at the counsel table -with her father, had listened in a sort of daze to the proceedings of -the court. She had heard all the testimony, understanding it as best -she could, and had gathered from her father's manner and that of his -counsel, particularly Beekman's, that the whole thing was a mere matter -of form, from which her father would come out unscathed and unscarred. -The verdict had simply added to this vagueness; but when the Court had -pronounced the significant and ugly word 'sentence,' it brought her up, -as it were, all standing; and half-rising from her seat she held out -her hand in an imploring gesture. - -"Sentence?" she cried out in her excitement. "No, he can't mean -that...." - -There was a titter from the women on the benches; it brought Leslie to -her senses, and flushing and confused she sank back and covered her -face with her hands. - -"Leslie, brace up!" said Beekman, leaning over her, his voice showing -his deep emotion. "It will come out all right. We'll win out on appeal." - -Flomerfelt stepped to the fore and plucked Beekman by the sleeve. - -"Let me have a word with you," he requested, whispering something in -his ear. - -Beekman at once addressed the Court. - -"If your Honour please," he began, "may we have a brief consultation -among counsel before we ask your Honour to set a day?" - -"Certainly," agreed the Court, "you may step into the ante-room." - -Six counsel and Flomerfelt and Wilkinson--eight in all--filed into the -ante-room. - -"Shut that door, Eliot," said Morehead. "Now, Flomerfelt, what's your -idea?" - - * * * * * - -Out in the court-room J. Newton Leech, who had prosecuted for the -People, left the side of Murgatroyd and went over to Leslie to offer -his sympathy. - -"Miss Wilkinson, this has been pretty hard on you." - -"I don't understand it at all," the girl answered, turning her pale, -tired face to his. - -"I wouldn't worry," he went on, with something more than mere -professional courtesy in his eyes. - -And indeed Leech spoke truly when he said that the trial had been most -distressing to Leslie. It had been doubly so, perhaps, because of the -lack of the usual dramatic features. Forgery, perjury, larceny, ominous -charges to be sure, had figured in the case, but their proof consisted -in large account books, private memoranda, original reports from the -State banking offices, notes, stock transfers, in fact, everything to -weary and little to excite. - -District Attorney Murgatroyd, like the accusing ghost of Hamlet's -father, had stalked silent, brooding, imperturbable, behind his -assistant, Leech, dictating nothing openly, but seeing, knowing that no -stone was left unturned. For the first two days of the trial the People -apparently had made but little inroads upon the integrity of Peter V. -Wilkinson; but at the end of that time, some new and powerful influence -had made itself felt: shrewd accountants entered the court-room and sat -at the Assistant District Attorney's elbow; a financier or two kept at -Murgatroyd's side; absolutely unassailable witnesses took the stand. - -It was about this time that Morehead had nudged Durand and whispered: - -"The _Morning Mail_ and Ougheltree of the National Banks are at work. -Here's where our trouble begins." - -But although these two practitioners well knew, even at that early -stage of the game, that the chances weighed heavily against them, not -once did they flinch, not once did they permit the set expression of -confidence to leave their faces. On the contrary, they turned to their -leader and said: - -"Beekman, the jury isn't even nibbling at this stuff. We've got a -walk-over." - -But Beekman could not bring himself to their point of view. With -growing fear he listened to the evidence of the People as it piled up -against his client. Nevertheless, Beekman had--just the thing that -Morehead had said he had--an unaltering faith in Wilkinson. He was -partisan to the last degree. And so quite naturally his intellect -rejected the proofs of the People. Not that he did not appreciate their -weight, but rather that he didn't believe their truth. - -And what a fight he had put up for his client! To this day Beekman's -summing up is remembered. - -"We didn't make any mistake in getting him," Morehead had told Durand -after the address to the jury. - -Even Murgatroyd had been moved to admiration by his closing arguments, -turning black into white, as he did, because it looked white to him, -and the District Attorney had said to his Assistant: - -"Leech, you couldn't do that in a thousand years--not the way he does -it. And if it were not for public opinion, it is pretty certain that -Beekman would get an acquittal from this jury. As it is...." - -And not for one moment had Murgatroyd felt that the case was safe -until the foreman's tremulous tones had quavered forth upon the heavy -air of Sessions. - - * * * * * - -During the first few minutes of the time that was passed in the -ante-room behind closed doors, Beekman's face wore an air of profound -dejection. Instead of joining, as was to be expected, in an animated -discussion that the others were having, he had taken a seat by himself, -and was reproaching himself with dereliction of duty. Imagine, then, -his astonishment when presently the little coterie gathered about him -and began to laud him for his good work. - -"You're a wonder, youngster!" they told him. "And you may consider -yourself engaged again right now, if we get a new trial." - -"But they beat me! I failed!" replied Beekman, a look of bewilderment -on his face. For he had expected reproaches, and here was genuine -applause as for a winner instead of for a loser. - -"Thought you were going to get me out of this?" growled Wilkinson, -staring about him; for he knew that these men in some way were -responsible for his losing his case. - -"We are," returned Durand, grimly; but his eyes flashed a wireless -message to the eyes of Colonel Morehead. And this wireless message ran -about like this: "We are going to get him out of this ... but how?" - -Colonel Morehead's glance travelled quickly around the room in a -comprehensive way; then settled upon Wilkinson, and he said: - -"Gentlemen, I think Peter V. had better be sentenced now." - -"Now! Thunder and guns, not now! Give me another chance to get at the -Court, or at Murgatroyd. I need time--put it off as long as possible," -Wilkinson said, the tremour in his voice only half concealed. - -"Time is dangerous," declared Morehead, with a shake of the head. "We -don't want public opinion nor the _Morning Mail_ to get to work. The -public--except your own depositors--didn't believe that you were going -to be convicted; they believed you to be only technically guilty. -But give the populace two days to consider the fact that you've -been convicted--convicted of forgery--I don't say you're guilty, -Wilkinson--and let the _Morning Mail_ hammer that in for a week, the -Judge is bound to feel the force of this public opinion. It's the one -thing from which no public officer can escape." - -"Let Gilchrist sentence now, and you'll get off with a fine," -interposed Flomerfelt; "that was my suggestion." - -"That's the whole idea," said Patrick Durand. "The less delay there -is, the lighter it will be." - - * * * * * - -Meanwhile Assistant District Attorney Leech had been moderately -successful in his attempt to soothe Leslie. His manner and his words, -"I wouldn't worry," had seemed a guarantee to her that her troubles -were about to vanish. She began to reason that nothing could happen to -her father. Nothing ever did happen to respectable men like him--big -men, rich men. And so she watched with increasing confidence the eight -men file back into the court-room. - -"If the Court please," Beekman was saying gravely, at her side, -"instead of fixing a future day for sentence, we suggest that the Court -pronounce its sentence now." - -The suggestion fell like a bomb-shell in the midst of the crowd. Even -District Attorney Murgatroyd rose to his feet in surprise. - -"I see no reason," he began, and then remembering that he was not -trying the case, he nodded to his assistant; Leech took the cue and -pressed to the fore. - -"This is an important case, your Honour," he contended, "and one that -demands deliberation. It seems to me that it would be preferable to -defer sentence until--say, Thursday of next week." - -The Court quickly waved Leech back to his seat and addressed himself to -the prisoner. - -"What does the defendant say? Are you ready for sentence now?" - -"I am," said Wilkinson, and rising at Morehead's nudge he stood glaring -at the Court. Beekman was at his side, and extended his hand, saying: - -"Before sentence is pronounced, if your Honour please, I should like to -say a word or two on behalf of the defendant." - -The Court likewise waved him back. - -"I heard all you told the jury," remarked Judge Gilchrist, somewhat -sharply. "You exhausted the subject, there's nothing left to say. I -have the floor." - -There was a pause during which the Court slowly took off his glasses, -wiped them with his handkerchief and put them on again. - -"This is an unusual case," he began, looking sternly at the defendant. - -Back on the benches the crowd leaned forward eagerly. - -"What will he give him?" asked someone. - -On the rear seat, Burns of the Ideal Dairy, who never missed a big -trial, turned to his friend Porteous, the Park Row hardware man, and -remarked: - -"I'll bet you another fifty, Billy, that he fines him a cold million -dollars--that or more." - -The hardware man only laughed. - -"Done," he answered. "Judge Gilchrist wouldn't dare to fine him over -fifty thousand dollars--and----" - -"Hush!" whispered Burns. "He's speaking now." - -" ... confined for ten years in State's Prison at hard labour," -concluded the Court. - -The people looked at one another aghast; but Murgatroyd smiled a -smile of complete satisfaction. As for Leslie, she turned a startled, -half-reproachful glance at the Assistant District Attorney, and then -her face went white and her head sank slowly down upon her arm that -lay upon the table. Unconsciously Beekman rested his hand lightly -upon her shoulder, and although the court-room seemed whirling about -his head, he presently found himself counting the heart throbs that -shook her frame. At the table Wilkinson's counsel exchanged glances, -only Morehead and Durand apparently retaining their self-possession, -and proceeded to gather their papers together, and scoop them into -capacious leather bags, shutting the bags loudly with a snap. - -Wilkinson's face was scarlet, his eyes flashing fire. From the instant -of the rendition of the jury's verdict he had been a spluttering -volcano of righteous indignation; but now, as he glared at the Court, -he was searching in his mind for some torture, some vengeance fitting -for a judge who dared.... - -"Do you mean to tell me, Gilchrist," he shouted so that all might hear, -and advancing toward him, "that you've got the nerve to----" - -The Court rapped for order. - -"Clear the court-room!" he ordered; and turning to Beekman he added: -"Counsellor, your client is beside himself. Take charge of him, or I'll -have somebody do it for you." - -Morehead and Flomerfelt pulled Wilkinson down into his seat and held -him there while a court officer stood over him threateningly. For a -brief instant, only, Gilchrist let his cold, judicial gaze meet the hot -belligerence of Peter V. Wilkinson; then he rose, gathered his robes -about him, and passed on to his private chambers. - -Immediately four New York newspaper men boldly took possession of the -bench and got three flashlights of Wilkinson struggling in the grasp of -his attorneys. It took less than three-quarters of an hour to clear the -court-room, but within that time New York was reading the headlines: -"Ten years at hard labour in State's Prison for Peter V. Wilkinson, -the multi-millionaire." As a piece of news it was unquestionably quite -worth while; and in an incredibly short space of time London and Paris -had it; that night Constantinople had it; the world had it and gloated -over it. - - * * * * * - -"What are they going to do to you, father?" cried Leslie, when two -uniformed officers laid hands upon Wilkinson. - -"That's what I'd like to know," he answered in alarm. - -"Take him to the Tombs, of course," spoke up one of the officers. "What -else is there to do?" - -"No, I won't go back there! I refuse ..." cried Wilkinson, struggling. - -Morehead laid a detaining hand upon the officer's arm. - -"Wait a minute, officer," he said. "We'll file a notice of appeal -inside of ten minutes. We're having it prepared now. We'll give -bail--renew the bond...." - -Murgatroyd stepped forward and said, clipping his words off as he spoke: - -"I shall oppose this man's release on bail pending an appeal, unless -his present bail is increased to double the amount." - -"A million dollars! What are you talking about!" exclaimed Morehead. - -"I'm talking about the new rule," returned the District Attorney; -"and you know just as much about it as I do." And then smiling -significantly he added: "I think Judge Gilchrist will do pretty much -as I say. Maybe he'll ask for more because of your client's outburst -when sentenced. If you want to see the Judge, come along with me." - -"And in the meantime, Chief, shall we lock him up?" queried an officer. - -"Wait a bit," put in Leech, courteously glancing at Leslie. "Suppose -Mr. Wilkinson stays in my room until"--he looked at the Colonel -now--"you can give bail this afternoon, can't you?" - -"Not if it's a million dollars. Murgatroyd, this man has got to rely -upon his daughter's money," he pleaded. "We couldn't raise a million -dollars in a month." - -"Yes we can," snapped Wilkinson, the cold sweat standing out on his -forehead. "We can raise twice that in an hour." - -There was an interval of silence in which Morehead tried to look -unconcerned, and Murgatroyd winked at Leech. - -"I thought he had it somewhere," whispered the District Attorney to his -assistant. - -With this proof before him that he was standing in the presence of a -man far from bankrupt, Leech became doubly attentive. - -"I think I can accommodate Mr. Wilkinson in my private office until -five o'clock," he suggested smoothly. "Two officers can remain on -guard outside, Chief. Is that all right?" - -Murgatroyd nodded a tentative assent before saying: - -"Come, Colonel, and we'll see the Judge...." - -And an hour and a half later the bail had been fixed and matters -arranged by Morehead and his colleagues with the surety company. But -when the Colonel was back again in Leech's private office, he whispered -to Wilkinson: - -"Where's your nerve, you confounded idiot! Now you've given the whole -thing away! If you'd gone back to the Tombs for a few days longer...." - -Wilkinson gave him a look of withering scorn, and measuring his words -carefully, declared: - -"I'll never be locked up, Morehead, again--anywhere. I told you once, -and I tell you now for all time, that they'll never get Peter V. -Wilkinson again behind the bars." - -Colonel Morehead made no comment, but favoured him with an enigmatical -smile. After a moment or two, he went on to explain that if Wilkinson -had kept quiet they could have hunted up some of his friends and had -the thing fixed up in forty-eight hours; that now, after what had -happened, everybody, and especially Ougheltree and the _Morning Mail_, -would know that he had this money tucked away somewhere; and that -before long they'd find out where the rest of it was, concluding with: -"Somebody'll get it, Wilkinson--they'll get at it." - -Wilkinson resented, with a shrug of the shoulders, this interference -with what he considered his business, and made no answer. But turning -to Leslie, he said irritably: - -"Leslie, just put your name on the back of these things, will you. The -surety company is waiting for them." - -Leslie's face showed a peculiar change; and she turned the certificates -over to read them before attaching her signature. - -"Half a million more!" she gasped. "Why, I don't own that much, father. -They can't be mine to sign away, can they?" - -"Do as I tell you," ordered her father, gruffly, taking them out of her -hand and turning them face down. "Sign your name on the back of every -one of them." And when she had done so, he said to a waiting messenger: -"There, now, Surety Company, fork over that new bond." And motioning to -Morehead: "Call Leech--there's his bail." - - - - -XII - - -Peter V. Wilkinson was taken to his home in his big Mastodon car. -With him, besides the chauffeur, were his daughter Leslie and Colonel -Morehead. The news of the verdict, the sentence, and the release on -bail had travelled even faster than the sixty-horse-power machine whose -passengers had to fight their way through an impacted mass of humanity -which filled the sidewalk and the street in front of Wilkinson's big -place on the Drive. But then it was not every day that people had the -chance to look upon an ex-multi-millionaire who had been sentenced to -ten years at hard labour and had given a million-dollar bail! - -With difficulty they reached the door, and a moment later it closed -upon them. - -"Where's Mrs. Wilkinson?" asked the multi-millionaire of the first -footman he came across. And in an aside to Morehead: "I suppose the -missus will have a few remarks to make." - -He was informed that Mrs. Wilkinson was in her room and feeling -poorly,--"Very, very poorly," the servant had been told to say,--a -condition of late chronic with the lady. And she had developed another -alarming condition: her increasing avoirdupois, the disappearance -of the last remnants of her charms, the palpable bankruptcy of her -husband, and her envy of her step-daughter Leslie--the only member -of the household who still had grace of mind and face and figure, to -say nothing of wealth--all these had developed in the lady a latent -ferocity, a tigerish temper which seemed to hold unlimited force -behind it. All over the great house her shrill virago's voice could be -heard terrifying the servants; in short, her sudden rise to power was, -perhaps, best described by another member of the household. "The missus -rules the roost now," was the way her husband put it, and he knew -whereof he spoke. Indeed, for that matter, Wilkinson, himself hitherto -fearing no one, and priding himself in the fact, actually trembled -now during the few moments that he was compelled to be in the lady's -presence. - -"Colonel, you've got to come with me," begun Wilkinson. - -"Not I," was the brief refusal. - -"You've got to come if I have to pay you to do it," insisted the -husband. "I won't go up alone." - -And Colonel Morehead would probably have used an even more forcible -expression of refusal to do the husband's bidding had he known that -at that very moment his right-hand man was closeted upstairs with his -wife, and was telling her,-- with one of his inscrutable smiles,--a -smile that was intended to convey that it rested wholly with him -whether Wilkinson would get off or not,--that Wilkinson was convicted, -because the men who took the witness stand happened to tell the truth -and had ended emphatically with: "The whole truth, and nothing but the -truth." - -But it happened that when they entered on tiptoe the lady's -boudoir--Morehead having been finally persuaded, much against his -will--the lady did not deign to acknowledge Morehead's presence, but -sobbed out to her husband: - -"You did not stop to consider me! Why did you let them do this thing to -you? It all falls on me. The intolerable disgrace, shame, humiliation! -You, a felon, a convict, a common thief, a forger!" One after another -she hurled these epithets at him, while Flomerfelt discreetly withdrew. - -Wilkinson looked at Morehead for sympathy; then he answered with illy -assumed contrition: - -"Yes, my dear." - -"I can't face anybody--not my dearest friends," went on the lady. "I -shall never be able to go anywhere again--never." - -Wilkinson grinned feebly at his lawyer. - -"They say I won't, either, for the next ten years," he said, in -soothing tones. - -His jibe aroused the sleeping tigress in her. The lady rose and pointed -toward the door. Her gown was a masterpiece of dressmaking art, for -singular as it may seem her income had not been stopped. Upon her -breast lay jewels worth many thousands; about her neck was clasped a -dog-collar weighted with heavy pearls; and her fingers sparkled with -gems. - -"You can go!" exclaimed the lady, stamping her foot--this lady who -would have been nobody without the wealth that this man had lavished on -her. "All these years you've considered everybody but your wife," she -went on. "I've had to bear the brunt of it all. I--I.... The idea of -you letting them send you up for ten years, of heaping all this infamy -on me! I shall sue for divorce, do you hear, divorce!" - -"Yes, my dear," said Wilkinson, again meekly glancing at his counsel. - -"Go!" she exclaimed; then added with commendable melodramatic force: -"You and your paid hireling there, leave me!" - -Colonel Morehead grew purple in the face. He advanced toward his -client's wife. - -"Madam," he began angrily. - -"Come, Morehead, come away!" exclaimed Wilkinson, and he led him out -into the hall where he said: "Don't you know she'd have scratched your -face if you'd stayed there any longer?" - -Tumultuously they descended the stairs and crept into the den on the -floor below. - -"That's over," sighed the husband, setting the decanter on the table -and passing the cigars. And for a while, at least, the two men smoked -in peace. - - * * * * * - -Blissfully happy was the condition that Leslie told herself that she -was in that evening. They had assured her after the council of war -behind closed doors that everything would come out right. And now, last -but not least, Beekman was alone with her and telling her the same -thing. - -"The verdict is ridiculous," he said. "Public prejudice, that's all. -The Appellate Division will fill it full of holes." - -"You're sure?" she asked, still a trifle dubious. - -Beekman smiled confidently. - -"Look here, Leslie," he returned consolingly, "lots of rich men have -been indicted and tried lately, haven't they? You haven't heard of any -of them having been imprisoned so far, have you? It's just a bit of -hysteria, but the Appellate courts don't get hysterical. We'll win out -upon appeal." - -"There's--there's something, Eliot, I wanted to say to you." She -hesitated a moment, and then went on: "If I'd been on that jury and a -murderer had been on trial, after hearing your defence, no matter what -I knew your man had done, I would have acquitted him, I know. I think -you're wonderful!" - -"If only our jury had felt as you feel, Leslie," he responded soberly. -"If only they had acquitted," --and he was looking into her eyes -now,--"why, things would be different to-night, so far as you and I are -concerned." - -The girl flushed prettily, but did not dare to meet his glance. - -"We're going to fight it to a finish, aren't we?" she faltered. - -"That's the compact," he returned. "You're right--we'll fight it to a -finish--first." - -"To see you, Miss Wilkinson." The voice was that of Jeffries, and he -was handing her a card. Leslie took it and, turning slightly pale, -started to leave the room. Before going out, however, she stopped and -made her excuse to Eliot, begging him to wait until she returned. In -the hall she asked Jeffries where her caller was to be found; she was -told that he was in the music-room. In front of the door she paused and -considered a moment. Not that she was not genuinely grateful for all -that Leech had done for her father that afternoon, but out of all that -day's experiences one thing clung to her memory more persistently than -any other: the audacious admiration in the glance of the man who had -spoken to her in the court-room and was now waiting for her. - -However, she swept into the room and held out her hand. - -"Miss Wilkinson," said Leech, meeting her half way and holding her hand -in his longer than necessary, "I had to come here to explain my part -in your father's prosecution. Personally I am not responsible for it. I -am a mere machine. Murgatroyd presses the button and we--I start up and -go through the day's work, willy nilly. I wanted you to know, as I said -before, that I am not responsible." - -Never once did the man's eyes leave the girl's face; his look was one -of bold admiration. He wanted the dainty girl before him, wanted the -things that she stood for: the ease, the excitement, the power that -great wealth brings. Besides, he was assured of something that Beekman -did not even suspect, that Leslie, even, didn't know, and that was that -Peter V. Wilkinson had somewhere millions upon millions, and that the -man who married Leslie Wilkinson would sip the nectar of the gods from -the first tolling of the marriage bell. - -"I know, Mr. Leech, you merely did your duty," she answered somewhat -coldly, lowering her eyes under his frank gaze. "We have intelligence -enough for that. We're not altogether narrow here." - -"I wanted to be sure that you understood my position," he proceeded, -"to feel that my sympathies are with your father--with you. Yes, to -the extent that were I a free agent, and not bound by my oath to the -People, I'd turn in and work my fingers to the bone for your father." -He moved a little closer to her, and added significantly, "for you." - -When Leslie returned to Beekman, singularly enough, she said nothing to -Beekman of the Assistant District Attorney's brief visit; nor later did -she mention it to her father. It would have disturbed Beekman; it would -have pleased Wilkinson; but she could not know that. - - - - -XIII - - -It was a beautiful day in the early part of Summer. On the deck of -the _Marchioness_, only a short time ago put in commission, Peter V. -Wilkinson was lying back in his steamer chair, luxuriously. New York -was experiencing one of the season's first hot days, but under the -awning of the after deck of the _Marchioness_, and out of sight of -land as she was, a delicious ocean breeze made life worth living, so -it seemed, at any rate, to the two men sitting there, ever and anon -calling to the steward, and refreshing themselves with Wilkinson's -choicest wines and liqueurs with which the yacht was stocked. - -"Do you know," remarked Wilkinson with a short laugh, as he threw over -the side an unfinished cigar and lighted a fresh one, "I ought to have -taken Leslie's original advice--ought to have sailed away on the -_Marchioness_ when they indicted me." - -"You'd be in the thick of the trouble, Peter," returned his counsel -sagely. - -"Huh!" grunted Wilkinson, "don't know but I'll do it now, and take you -with me, Colonel." - -"Don't care if you do. It would end my troubles." - -Wilkinson tapped the Colonel on the knee. - -"Tell me, Colonel, how much money does that blatherskite get a year?" - -"What blatherskite?" - -"Gilchrist--the chap that had the nerve to sentence me." - -Morehead told him; Wilkinson opened wide his eyes. - -"You don't mean to tell me that's all he makes--his salary?" - -The Colonel nodded. - -"And do you mean to tell me that a man who only gets that much a year -has the power to put away a man like me--can do a thing like that? What -are we coming to in the United States?" - -The Colonel laughed heartily. - -"That man Gilchrist is a marked man from now on," went on Wilkinson. -"His degradation has begun. He sentenced me all right; and I've -sentenced him. I'll see to it that he's hounded out of New York. Any -man that tries to set himself up before me--may stand up for five -minutes or so, but he'll go down as sure as death and taxes. Every man -that's prosecuted me, touched me, laid his hands on me physically or -figuratively, is going to get it. I've got a heavy hand, Morehead, and -they're going to feel it. They're going to know it's me. Gilchrist will -get his, first." - -The lawyer sniffed the breeze and closed his eyes in ecstasy. - -"Oh, come now, Peter ...! I haven't enjoyed a day like this in years." - -"You don't suppose I brought you along to have you enjoy yourself?" -bluntly. - -"No, I wouldn't credit you with that nobility of character, Peter. But -I'm here no matter what your purpose may have been, and I propose to -enjoy myself." - -The multi-millionaire received this remark in silence. Colonel Morehead -was one of the few independent men he had ever met. Wilkinson could -never quite make him out, and therefore was afraid of him. As a -matter of fact, Morehead's code was a simple one: he merely did his -duty towards his clients in his own way; and if they didn't like it, -that was their affair and not his. His acquired indifference was his -greatest capital. - -"At any rate," growled his host, "I suppose I'm paying you by the -minute all the time you're here." - -"Presume you are, Peter," sweetly answered the Colonel; "and that's a -pleasure, too, to both of us, I'm sure." - -"Business before pleasure is my motto, you know," resumed Wilkinson. -"I brought you out here to have a quiet talk where even Flomerfelt or -Patrick Durand cannot hear it. I haven't been able to pin you down -to my case since my conviction. Look here, Morehead," he went on -appealingly, "we'll reverse this sentence a hundred times over, eh?" - -The Colonel, who had been sprawling lazily across his steamer chair, at -this drew himself up to a sitting posture. - -"Now look here, Wilkinson, we've appealed this case, and we've filed a -bond, and you're out on bail...." - -"And we'll win out on appeal?" - -"I was about to remark," went on the lawyer, quietly, "that your case -will go first to the Appellate Division, then to the Court of Appeals, -then--maybe to the United States Supreme Court. Then a few certificates -of reasonable doubt, motions, stays, etc. It will take months, months, -even if they rush it through. There's no hurry about discussing it; we -can take our time." - -Wilkinson was about to speak, but Morehead raised his hand. - -"Since we're talking business, Peter, I may as well get to it, so that -you can enjoy your pleasure afterward." He got up, yawned and stretched -himself. Then looking Peter straight in the eye, he added: "What I -wanted to impress upon you is, that after our last card is played, this -conviction and this sentence are going to be----" - -"Reversed, as sure as guns!" cried out Wilkinson. - -"This conviction and this sentence," went on the lawyer, ignoring -the interruption, "will be affirmed." And so saying he leaned back in -his chair and puffed away contentedly. A moment later he added: "Now, -Peter, business is over, let's enjoy ourselves. What do you call that -thing yonder--a schooner or a hermaphrodite brig?" - -His wealthy client swaggered to the fore once more. - -"Do you mean to tell me that a man who's worth a hundred million is -actually going to serve ten years in State's Prison at hard labour? -That's nonsense!" - -"I mean precisely what I say," said Morehead, his voice ringing -prophetically, "that this verdict and this sentence are going to be -affirmed." - -"I'll spend five--ten million to reverse it." - -"Spend it, then, and I'll help you, and when you're through you'll know -that I spoke the truth--affirmance, not reversal." He stopped abruptly, -then rising and plunging his hands deep in his trousers pockets, he -suddenly put the question to him: "I wish you'd tell me, Peter, whom -your daughter is going to marry? I'm interested." - -"What the devil has that got to do with this case?" - -"By the way," went on Morehead, ignoring purposely the other's -outburst, "where is your daughter now?" - -"Home." - -"Then you'd better swing the _Marchioness_ about. When you get home you -can find out if you do not already know." - -"How should I know? There's a dozen cubs hanging around--none of them -good enough for her. Leslie's got to marry well." - -"Has she? A fine chance she has, with her father a convict under a -prison sentence! Come, come, man, why don't you give your captain -orders? I want to know whom this girl of yours is going to marry--and -right away." - -Wilkinson chuckled. - -"Might send a wireless...." - -"You'd get a most remarkable answer, Peter." Morehead was now striding -up and down, nervous, energetic strides they were, for he had shaken -off his tendency to enjoyment. "I say," he went on, "I haven't heard -you mention a word about the political situation so far; you're usually -pretty enthusiastic." - -"How can a man be enthusiastic about politics when he's got the sword -of Damocles over his head." - -"You're going to open fire on Gilchrist, aren't you?" - -"Sure." - -"That's politics," said Morehead, "and now that we're on the subject, -I want you to do me a favour. Wilkinson, I want my man put up for -governor this year, and I want your backing, you understand--your -influence, your money, all to back my man. Can I count on you, Peter?" - -Wilkinson thought a moment before answering. - -"Who is your man?" - -"Um," smiled Morehead, "I don't know that--yet." - - * * * * * - -A short time after Wilkinson's return from the yachting trip, Leslie -received a message that her father would like to see her. She found -him with an unlighted cigar between his fingers sitting in his big -arm-chair in the Den, gazing into space, his face like a mask. - -"You sent for me, father, and I came," she said, entering, a faint -smile on her lips. - -"I sent for you," he told her in a level unemotional voice, "to find -out something--something that you can tell me if you will. Strange -things are happening nowadays. There are matters I'd like to settle -before----" - -"Before what?" she asked, startled. - -"Before I plunge into this appeal and forget everything else," he -answered easily; but now with just enough anxiety in his manner -to alarm her, he repeated: "There's something that I've got to -know--something that only you can tell me, girlie." - -"I'll tell you anything, father," she answered softly. - -Wilkinson caught her by the hand and drew her to him, asking so -suddenly that she started: "Who's the man you're going to marry?" - -The girl disengaged herself from her father's embrace. The blood rushed -to her face, and she laughed a little uneasily. After a moment she -answered: - -"How can I tell! He--nobody's asked me. Has anybody asked you, father?" - -Wilkinson chuckled over her reply, though her evasiveness slightly -irritated him. - -"Come," he said, "is it Berry Broughton, or Larry Pendexter, or -Montgomery?" Her father rattled on without giving her a chance to -answer, the girl's face growing more and more scarlet as he proceeded. - -"It must be Eliot Beekman or Tommy Cadwalader," he declared, searching -her face. But still Leslie made no answer, though there was the same -embarrassed flush upon her countenance. - -"Well, can't you tell me who it is?" he questioned impatiently. - -"I don't know," she protested, "really, I do not." - -"But I've got to know," persisted her father. - -But whether she could not or would not tell him, his efforts were -unsuccessful, for she merely fled in a panic from the room. So that it -was in a voice whose tone was one of defeat that he called out: - -"You can come now, Colonel!" - -From the heavy curtains Colonel Morehead emerged--a grim figure lying -in ambush, he seemed, as he asked: - -"Well! who's the lucky man?" - -"Blamed if I could find out." - -"But I did. Eliot Beekman is the lucky man, Peter." - -"How do you know?" - -"You may think you know men, but, at any rate, you don't know women, -Peter. I merely watched her face." - -"So did I," spluttered Wilkinson, "but I didn't...." - -"Peter, you asked me the name of my candidate for governor," said -Morehead himself in a manner that suggested that he was quite ready to -get down to business. - -"Well?" - -"His name is Eliot Beekman." - -Peter V. Wilkinson looked his surprise. - -"And why Beekman?" - -"One reason is because he's going to marry your daughter. I was -satisfied of that, even before I heard this interview. But there are -other reasons: he's a partisan; he's taken sides with you; the boy -believes in you; and as long as your daughter sticks to him he's bound -to believe in you, and he'll stick to you, too. Now, Peter, do you see -why I've picked him for governor, and why I want your backing?" - -"There's one thing I don't quite see, and that is your real reason for -wanting him for governor. Tell me that, will you, Colonel?" - -Colonel Morehead took his cigar from his mouth, and thrusting his face -close to Wilkinson's, he said, speaking very distinctly so that his -client should not misunderstand his meaning: - -"Because, my dear Peter, after you've spent your millions on appeals -and bribes and legal curlyques--when you find at the end of the race -that a ten-year term is still staring you in the face, it will be a -deuced comfortable thing, Peter, to know that up in Albany you've got a -friend, a partisan, a son-in-law _who's got the power to pardon_." - -There was a pregnant pause in which both men watched each other with a -curious expression on their faces. Finally Wilkinson rose and strode -around the end of the desk, and holding out his hand, he said: - -"Colonel, I've been curt and disagreeable in my talk to you. I want to -say now that I take back everything, except the good things, that I've -said. You're a wonder--a perfect wonder!" - -"Remember, I'm to manage this campaign," warned the Colonel. -"Everything will be done from the outside. No one, not even Leslie nor -Beekman, must know a word about it. You promise?" - -"I promise to keep my hands off," agreed Wilkinson, but the next -instant he added: "Come to think of it, though, I don't see why we -have to do it. I'm sure that my conviction will never get that far. If -necessary I'll buy up every judge from here to Washington." - - - - -XIV - - -Labouring evidently under the stress of some new and strange -excitement, a man strode swiftly through the darkness of the night. -He was a tall, spare individual, clothed from neck to heel in a long, -loose raincoat that clung closely to his body, though the ends flapped -freely in the wind. It was a dark, stormy night early in November, and -although the storm pelted his uplifted face as he sped along, he never -heeded the elements; nor did he notice that few pedestrians were abroad -on a night that, had the weather been more propitious, would have been -a gala night. As it was, the crowds were under cover. Street-cars were -loaded to their limit, taxi-cabs and hansoms by the hundreds passed -and repassed, so that any time he might have escaped this drenching -by lifting his finger. But the storm, after all, was what he wanted; -it cooled and steadied him; and as he went along he laughed gently to -himself from time to time. - -"I got away from them, all right," he murmured, half-aloud. - -"Them" had been a mob of men at the Barristers' Club. They had -surrounded him suddenly with outstretched hands, dragging him -unmercifully about. But at last, though this demonstration had made -him happy, he had torn himself away to enjoy a greater happiness--one -that meant all the world to him. - -At the foot of a long hill he stopped and glanced toward its summit. To -him, somehow, it seemed typical of his own career--a slow climb, but -with a vision of glory at the top. And before he knew it he had mounted -the summit and was waiting to be admitted into the presence of the one -woman he loved. - -"This way, sir," Jeffries whispered in his ear. - -With a hasty movement Beekman flung off his dripping raincoat, dashed -the drops from his face with a flirt of his handkerchief, and the next -instant he was standing face to face with Leslie, who came toward him, -smiling as she exclaimed: - -"Where have you been hiding? I've kept the wires going all this -afternoon and evening trying to find out about you." - -"Leslie," he answered, his face ruddy with the swift walk and dampness, -"they piled on top of me down at the club, but I got away from -them--nearly tore the clothes from me, the beggars! You know what's -happened, don't you?" - -For answer she looked at him critically, bursting out with: - -"Indeed I do! Stand off a moment--let me look at you--Governor -Beekman." - -He laughed soberly. - -"It sounds fine, doesn't it?" - -Leslie continued to gaze at him with pride. - -"Do you know, Leslie," he went on, "I can't realise it--can't -understand why Broderick--why the organisation picked me of all men for -the office. Wanted a clean man, they said--the wave of reform demanded -it, and they didn't know anyone who would fill the bill as well as I." - -Leslie sobered. - -"It's destiny," she said. "You were meant to go up, up, up...." - -"Stop!" he called out with a well-feigned frightened look on his face. -"I'm high enough now." - -"Wouldn't it be fine," she continued with girlish enthusiasm, "if, -after this, you could be United States Senator, Vice-President, and -after that possibly----" - -"The Big Job?" He laughed. "Why, I haven't even been sworn in yet." He -stopped suddenly. "But I want to see your father, Leslie," his voice -losing its note of gaiety, "I want to tell him----" - -Leslie, too, left laughter behind her. - -"Father's in his Den," she said quietly, "smoking his quota of big -black cigars. The poor old dear feels pretty blue. The Appellate -Division decision...." - -On his way to the Den Beekman stopped and turned round, saying: - -"I can't for the life of me understand, Leslie, why they affirmed that -sentence. If they only half read Colonel Morehead's brief, or even -mine, they surely would have been convinced.... What do you suppose it -is--whose influence is behind this thing?" - -Leslie shrugged her shoulders. - -"Father says that the National Banks have set their face against the -Trust Companies--and it looks as if he were to be the victim of the -clash." - -"Ground between the upper and nether mill-stones," mused Beekman, -shaking his head in genuine anguish of mind. Then he stiffened and -his eyes flashed. "It will never stand, Leslie; nor can I see how -Ougheltree of the National Bank clique can have any weight with the -courts. But at any rate, when this thing gets up at Albany before -the Court of Appeals, all local influence will fade away. Peter V. -Wilkinson will get justice there. The other side are fighting only for -money, but with us, Durand, Morehead and myself, why it's a fight for -life, almost--and we'll beat 'em out." - -Beekman's outburst took Leslie quite by storm. She had never seen him -so roused, so strong, so fine. - -"You make me sorry that you're Governor, Eliot," she said, her heart -beating fast, "for I suppose now you're unable to be my father's -counsel--or does a governor still practise law?" - -Beekman's head drooped. - -"You're right," he said at length, "I suppose I'm out of the fight. But -the others are just as determined to win." - -"How I wish father could have heard you a moment ago!" cried the girl, -wistfully. "He would then understand what genuine loyalty is. He thinks -every man he knows, and every woman, too, I guess, save me, is a time -server. Every man has his price, according to his idea. I don't believe -he thinks that he has a genuine friend in all the world--not one. Isn't -it hopeless to suspect everyone like that?" - -"How can he help it?" returned Beekman, pointedly. "Just what I told -you about the rich American girl--how is she going to know, understand -the motives of men ...?" - -Leslie's face went suddenly white; then she suggested almost too -hastily, so she reflected later: - -"If you want to see my father, remember he's in the Den." And an -instant later Beekman found himself standing in the presence of Peter -V. Wilkinson. - -In his exuberance of joy Wilkinson almost flung himself at Beekman. He -grasped the other's hand with both of his, then clapped him heavily on -the shoulder. - -"Governor, my boy, you made a grand fight--a great fight! You're the -right man in the right place! Proud of you, I am." - -"Now about the Appellate Division ..." began Beekman, but Wilkinson -would have none of it. - -"Not on your life!" said he. "Never mind me! No troubles to-night--only -wine and wassail. All Governor and nothing else. The returns are all -in, aren't they? No contests--nothing doubtful--sure thing--you're -Governor and no mistake?" - -"No mistake, Mr. Wilkinson," smiled Beekman. "It's all right." - -For an instant Beekman hesitated and glanced about the room as though -for inspiration, then his eyes settled down once more on Peter V. - -"Mr. Wilkinson," he stammered, "I'm a bit old-fashioned, I suppose, -all wrong, from the modern point of view, but I've got something on my -mind--something----" - -"Out with it," laughed the older man. - -The Governor-elect gulped. - -"It's--your--your daughter Leslie," he went on, still floundering. "I -want to marry her--thought I'd ask you first." - -"Ask me first?" exploded Peter V. Wilkinson. "Haven't you asked her -yet?" - -"Her money--I've always been afraid of people with a lot of money, -and----" - -"You needn't be afraid of me," gurgled Wilkinson; "I haven't any left." - -"But the principle is the same," insisted Beekman. "I wanted to be -sure, that's all." - -"Suppose I refuse?" - -"Oh, in that case, I should ask her anyway--and get her too, I think. -I'm merely trying to do my duty by you, don't you see." - -Wilkinson raised his hand and brought it down heavily upon the -Governor's shoulder once more. - -"Governor," he said, "you've always done right by me, and I believe you -always will--I've that much faith in you. As for the rest, I don't know -of any man that I'd rather trust my daughter Leslie to, than you." - -Beekman's blood rushed tumultuously through his veins. - -"I don't deserve----" he began quite formally, but Wilkinson cut him -off. - -"You understand," said he, searching his face, "that your being -Governor makes no difference to me. I give you Leslie because I like -you--I think you're a man." - -Beekman left the room intoxicated with success. Indeed such was the -magnetism of Peter V. that Beekman left his presence, like many a man -before him, with a feeling that he would be willing to face death, if -necessary, in Wilkinson's defence. - -The girl was waiting where he had left her. - -"Leslie," he began and got no further, for the words that he had -planned to say would not come to him. Finally he stammered out: "It's -this way, you see. We're equals now--that is, you're the daughter of -Peter V. Wilkinson and I'm the Governor of the State. Consequently I -dare--oh, I want you--there!" - -Leslie tried to pass him, but he was too quick for her. He caught her -and drew her close to him, and for one instant his lips met hers. Then -she wrenched herself away. - -"Tell me what you want of me, Eliot, quick," she panted, a new, wild, -haunting expression in her eyes. - -"My wife," he stammered, swiftly advancing toward her. "My wife--I know -that you--that you----" - -Her eyes sought the pattern of the Kirzan underneath their feet. - -"You know nothing," she said, her hands tightly clenched, the colour -coming and receding on her face. - -"I--I saw it in your eyes," he pleaded. - -"You saw nothing in my eyes," she answered, speaking very determinedly. - -Beekman paused. Presently he drew from his pocket a trinket and held it -out. - -"Leslie," he whispered, "perhaps I've been presumptuous, but you know I -have always told you that I am old-fashioned. I got this for you." - -"It's just like you," she said, taking the trinket for an instant. -"There's not a man in all New York who would have thought of buying the -ring before--perhaps I like you for it, though." - -"But what will you think of me when I tell you that I had an -inscription put on the inner circle? You had better read it, hadn't -you?" - -For an instant Leslie felt herself weakening as she saw their initials -on the ring. With difficulty she restrained her tears, and it was with -a sad little smile that she now handed him back the ring. - -Then she shook her head. - -"Eliot," she said in an unnatural voice, "I'm not blaming you. You did -only what you thought you had the right to do. More than that, I may -have led you on. But it can never be. No, don't come near me, please, -I mean it. You don't know; you can't understand; things happen very -suddenly, sometimes. I can't marry you, Eliot, that's all. I can't ... -I can't...." - -Beekman's face became scarlet, for there was something of the -determination of her father in her voice. - -"You've got to," he insisted, for he refused to believe that she was -not for him. - -But still she retreated before him. - -"I can't talk about it," she repeated wearily, stubbornly. - -"Will you tell me why?" he asked, forcing himself to be calm. - -Leslie gave him a quick glance. His question came as a relief to her. -She seemed on the point of answering it. - -"Yes," she began, and then pressed her hand against her lips. "I -mean, no--I can't tell you anything except--that the whole thing is -absolutely impossible. You would not understand if I told you. I should -never want you to understand it." - -"Why wouldn't you?" - -"Because the instant that you understood it, you would find that you -couldn't understand it," she told him enigmatically. "And yet," she -murmured as though to herself, "it's all so clear, so plain to me." - -Beekman quickly caught her by the wrist. Her hand still clenched -itself, and he could feel her nerves throbbing as with pain. - -"Your father tells me it's all right," he went on, his voice growing -hoarser as he proceeded, for he couldn't see that he was making any -headway with the girl; "he approves, gives his consent, all that sort -of thing. He seemed glad, friendly. It seemed to be what he wanted. Why -do you hesitate?" - -"I don't hesitate," she answered, though uncertainly. All the time she -was praying that he would let her go. She wanted to escape. All that -she wished for now was to get to her room at the top of the house, -where in solitude she could rest and weep. - -"My father," she resumed, "knows nothing--nothing of my reasons. This -is a matter of my own. Even he couldn't understand...." - -Beekman dropped her hand and said: - -"Leslie, tell me one thing: Is there some one else?" - -Leslie looked down without immediately replying and gradually grew -pale. Then with one of her quick changes she looked up and her eyes met -his in a clear, straight glance. - -"Yes," she said, tossing her head in the air, "there is some one else." - -"Who?" he demanded in a voice that was distinctly authoritative. - -The girl drew herself up to her full height and quietly reminded him -that he had no right to ask the question. But when Beekman had gone, -Leslie's face showed a peculiar change; the hardness dropped from it, -and was replaced by a look of intense sadness. - -At the door of the Den she stopped to bid her father good-night. - -"Well," he called out cheerfully, motioning her to come in, "it's all -over then?" - -Leslie seated herself upon the knee he offered her. She was pale and -very tired. - -"Yes, it's all over--all over." - -Wilkinson was watching her closely. - -"You seem to take it hard, girlie," he returned, puzzled. - -"Yes," she sighed. - -He drew her girlish head down against his breast. - -"He's a bully boy for you, Leslie. Mrs. Governor Beekman, eh? Not bad! -It's a good thing to have money, but it's a great thing to be a Mrs. -Governor, too, and especially when the Governor happens to be a man and -not one of those cheap politicians. I congratulate you, little one." - -"You never used to think much of him," she faltered. - -"True. But I didn't know him. I didn't know the stuff he was made of. -Colonel Morehead sized him up right from the start. But he's the man -for me, now, Beekman is, and no mistake." - -Leslie closed her eyes and whispered softly, her hand creeping about -his neck: - -"Good-night, father." - -The next moment she rose and slowly started to the door and then as -slowly came back, thinking to herself: - -"I might as well get it over once for all, so that to-morrow there'll -be nothing to tell, nothing to do but to take up the routine of life -again." And when she reached her father's side, she said bravely but -with a little sigh: - -"Father, I'm not going to marry Eliot Beekman." - -"Not going to----" spluttered Wilkinson. For the first time in months -his colour fled. "Didn't he--hasn't he asked you?" - -"Yes, and I refused him." - -"What?" he bellowed. "Why?" - -"I had my own reasons," she replied, never flinching as her father -glowered upon her from his height. - -"A woman's reason, I'll wager. What's the trouble? Some other chap?" - -"No." - -"Nobody else, eh? Then, what's up? Don't you like Beekman?" - -"Yes." - -"Oh, you like him, but don't love him, that is, well enough to marry -him. I don't care so much about the love. We'll leave love out of the -question--it's too ticklish a subject." - -"I like him too well to marry him," she answered earnestly. - -"A woman's reason all right enough," muttered her father. "Talk United -States, girlie. What's the trouble?" - -Once more she clung to him, and said very tenderly, now: - -"Father, won't you rest content, won't you let me stay with you always, -always taking care of you, doing for you--there's no one else...." She -caught his big hand in hers. "I want to go down the years with you, -hand in hand, never leaving you, father--never...." She choked suddenly. - -"You can do that as Beekman's wife," he persisted. - -"I shall not be Beekman's wife," she insisted, strangling a sigh. - -"I want to know the reason," he demanded, with that veiled threat in -his tone which never failed of its results. - -"Will you forgive if I tell you?" - -"I won't forgive you if you don't!" - -Leslie drew herself away and leaned against the door as though for -support, for strength. - -"Father, Eliot Beekman wouldn't ask me to marry him until he had made -a position? for himself, had something to offer me. He has said it a -thousand times. He's got pride--too much pride, it seems to me. But -I've got pride, too. Months ago I would have married Eliot--he didn't -know that--any time he asked me. It's got beyond me now. He's got -everything to offer me, I've got nothing in return to offer him." - -"Nonsense, child! You've got money," protested her father, puzzled, "at -least you have so long as I don't jump the bail." - -"Oh, how I wish you would!" she cried, startled into sudden ecstasy -by the thought. Then she went on: "Money, what is money to me? What -was it to Eliot? Nothing save an obstacle. That isn't it; you haven't -understood; and to tell you I've got to hurt--I've got to say things -that--oh, don't misunderstand me, please...." - -"I'll misunderstand you if you don't go on," blurted out Wilkinson, -unfeelingly. "Quick, now!" - -"Why won't you understand, father, that it's because he has everything -to offer, while I have nothing. He's been given the highest office that -the State has to give--a position that he thought would entitle him to -me--and I, who am I ...?" - -"You're the woman he wants, the woman he's earned, girlie," said her -father, his voice softening. - -"I am the daughter of a convict," she went on swiftly, her tones -cutting into the air like frost. - -Her father stared at her aghast for an instant. Then he slowly -returned to his seat at his desk and slumped into it heavily, and -groaned. - -"Ye gods, but you're harsh!" he cried. - -"You wanted to know why," she answered, "and now you do not -understand--you're everything to me, everything, father. But the -reason--the world, the people of whom Eliot is going to be governor, -they look only on the record, and I'm not his equal. Upon me rests this -taint--I'm not complaining--I'm glad to stand by you, father.... But I -have pride--how can I, with this disgrace upon us, give myself to Eliot -Beekman?" - -"Nonsense, girl," said Wilkinson, pulling himself together, "I'll get -clear all right." - -"When you do," she declared with a faint smile, "and if he then asks -me, I'll take him. If he does not...." A sigh of misery escaped her. - -"You're a little fool! Confound it, Leslie, this thing was all cut -and----" He checked himself suddenly, remembering his promise to the -Colonel. - -"Cut and dried," she echoed in surprise. - -"Yes, this National Bank conspiracy," he mumbled in confusion, "the -courts here in the city are backing them up. But up there in Albany, -I'll get free, you'll see." And now with a sudden change of manner, he -continued: "Look here, Leslie, I've got reasons, too--reasons a darned -sight better than yours, why I want you to marry Eliot Beekman. Never -mind what they are. The fact is, I want you to be settled--I want it -all fixed.... I give you my word--the Colonel will give you his word -that I shall get clear. We know it, we've got it fixed.... It's all -right--there can't be a slip up. And now, besides my freedom, which -I'm going to get, there's only one thing in the world that I want, and -that is that you marry Eliot Beekman. Good heavens, girl, can't you -see--don't you see that this thing is vital to me? I'm no woman, and -I don't speak at random. You've got to marry Eliot Beekman; if you -don't----" - -"But I can't," she returned simply; and from this decision there seemed -no appeal. "I can't accept him now, father." - -Leslie rose and made a movement to go. But Wilkinson, feeling as though -the hangman's noose was already settling about his neck, snatched up -the receiver on his desk with one hand, while with the other he made an -authoritative gesture for the girl to resume her seat. - -"Is Mr. Flomerfelt in the house?" he called through the instrument. - -A look of pained surprise and annoyance at once crossed Leslie's face. -Heedless of it Wilkinson spoke again. - -"In the library, you say? Give me that room and be quick about it." - -There was a pause in which the eyes of both father and daughter -plainly showed to each other the strength of the will that lay behind -them. - -"Hello--Hello," called Wilkinson, "is that you, Flomerfelt?" - -"............" - -"Look here, Flomerfelt, had you an idea that Beekman----" Then, -parenthetically, to Leslie, who was beating against her father's -intentions to betray her confidences with as much success as a bird -beating against the bars of its cage: "Of course, I'll tell him. Do -you think for one moment that the wishes of a silly girl like you will -be allowed to stand in the way of our well-laid plans--not much!" -Then through the phone: "Yes, this is Peter V. and.... Well, he has, -and Leslie has refused him.... What's that?... Yes, he's gone.... No, -she's here with me.... All right, I will." And with that he hung up the -receiver, and turning round and facing the girl he announced: "Now, -young woman, you will listen to my final word in this matter." But that -word was not spoken, for at that moment there came a knock at the door -and Jeffries, entering, announced a visitor for Miss Wilkinson. - - - - -XV - - -There was a flush on the face of Elinor Ilingsworth as she left the -office of J. Newton Leech. For the hundred and first time, perhaps, -she had crept into the presence of the Assistant District Attorney, -trusting that he might have some good news for her. Her father was her -only relative; she had no friends in New York; and her money was nearly -gone. At first, when she had gone to the Tombs to see her father, the -authorities had permitted her to have her talks with him in the counsel -room, where Leslie had seen her father, but as the weeks passed into -months, things changed, and it ended in Elinor's sitting on the outside -of a cell, holding her father's hand between the bars. And as they sat -there with bowed heads her father had told her, not once, but a hundred -times, that he was guiltless of the murder of Roy Pallister. And Elinor -believed and felt that some day the truth would be known. Every hour, -therefore, when it was possible she spent in going to and fro, between -the offices of Worth Higgins and Assistant District Attorney Leech. -Singularly enough, she received more encouragement from the latter than -the former; indeed, Higgins gave her but little hope. Nor did he tell -her that a wealthy newspaper, for ulterior purposes, was employing -him to fight for her father. Enthusiastic always at the crisis of a -litigation, Worth Higgins, for some reason or other, had become cool, -surly, sharp to Elinor, as time went on. Her visits annoyed him; he -rebuffed her as often as he could. Leech, on the other hand, had been -by no means chary of his promises to help her through her troubles; -on the contrary, he was ever profuse, when the woman in question was -pretty, and Elinor Ilingsworth was unquestionably pretty. - -"I like to come here after seeing that old bear," Elinor had often said -to the Assistant District Attorney. "Mr. Higgins is beginning to hate -the sight of me." - -"You see that I do not," invariably would be his answer; and, waving -her to a seat, he would take one beside her and the two would chat. - -Elinor was forced to admit that Leech became nicer as time went on. -Always he suggested new hopes, new speculations, for he saw that -it took but little to encourage her. He explained to her carefully -the quasi-judicial nature of his office, how the District Attorney -in theory was neither for nor against the criminal, but was always -anxious, ready and willing to learn the truth. Soon he began to note -that the girl grew shabbier in appearance day after day; that her face -was thinning, and that her eyes were dark and lustrous. - -"I'll do what I can," he had told her time and time again, his pulse -quickening as he felt the pressure of her hand. - -And Elinor would go forth, refreshed and strengthened; while Leech, -settling himself comfortably back in his chair, would light a cigar, -and fall to wondering when and what the end of it all would be. - -"A pretty girl," he often reflected, "a mighty pretty girl. And, oh, -such eyes!" - -It was upon just such an occasion as this that Elinor went back to -the Tombs more than ordinarily encouraged, and sought her father's -presence. She sat down beside him and poured out to him her hopes. When -she had finished he bent over her slender hand and his mouth quivered -while the hot tears dropped from his working face. - -"We've lost," he told her, in a voice filled with despair. "I heard it -only a few moments ago." - -"It can't be true," she replied incredulously, and with just the -glimmer of a smile on her face. "Why, I've just left Mr. Leech, and he -said nothing of it." - -But nevertheless it was true. The old man handed her Higgins' letter, -which she read; it verified what her father had told her. - -"I've worked so hard," she faltered, leaning her head against the bars -and sobbing silently as though her heart would break, "so very, very -hard." - -Ilingsworth drew a long sigh--a sigh that had behind it the regret of -years. - -"It's all my fault," he said through the tears that rolled down his -cheeks, "for being such a fool as to----" - -"As to----" she repeated slowly. - -"As to do anything at all," he finished. "Everything, everything I've -done," he continued sadly, "has been the act of a fool. And now I'm -going to die a fool's death. I wouldn't care if it wasn't for you, -child. But you--how are you going to get along? How are you going to -get along without money?" he concluded, breaking down completely. - -"I have enough," she answered consolingly; "don't mind me." - -But in truth Elinor Ilingsworth had only enough money to pay for a -sleeping place, and was at her wits' end to obtain sufficient food. - -"I'm all right, all right, father," she kept on insisting to her -father's upbraiding of himself, now smiling through the tears which -with difficulty she kept back, now patting his hand affectionately, -always cheering him up. - -"You're a brave girl," he told her, when their interview was over, and -pressed her hand for a long time to his lips. - -As Elinor was about to leave the Tombs, a young woman looking very much -embarrassed slowly emerged from a recess in which there was a crowd of -waiting visitors, and came towards her, saying: - -"You are Miss Ilingsworth?" - -Elinor shot a quick, distrustful glance toward the intruder, who, -somehow, seemed very queenly to her, although there was nothing -expensive about the woman's garments. She was dressed in simple black -clothes. Elinor had hear of Tombs' angels, and presently decided that -the woman must be one of them. - -"Yes," she answered, wondering what she wanted of her. - -"You don't know me," went on the woman, "but I have heard of you -from--from friends of mine--that is, the Wilkinsons." - -"You refer to the Peter V. Wilkinsons, I suppose," returned Elinor, -icily; and without waiting for an answer added: "They are no friends -of mine, and you must excuse me.... You can't possibly have anything -of interest to say to me," she finished, and started to go. But the -stranger, advancing in such a way as to bar her passage, pleaded for a -hearing. - -"I know that," she explained. "But I merely wanted to get your -attention, wanted some excuse for my interference. I wanted to help -you, if I could. I know more about New York--all about New York. I can -assist you in many ways. Won't you let me?" she concluded insistently. - -Elinor was all attention. - -"You mean that you can help my father?" she inquired. - -The woman appeared to hesitate. At length she whispered "Yes." - -"But how can you?" - -"In many ways. I might be able to find some clue--anyhow, I want to -help--him, of course, but particularly you." - -Elinor looked dubious; nevertheless she suggested: - -"Perhaps you'll come back and talk to him." - -Her new acquaintance shook her head. - -"Not now. But isn't there something I can do for you? Don't you -need----" - -"Money?" Elinor said, taking the words out of the other's mouth. -"We have money, thank you," and added half hurriedly, half in -embarrassment: "Will you excuse me if I leave you. I have an engagement -with our lawyer, and I'm late." - -The stranger laid her hand on Elinor's sleeve, and persisted: - -"But can't I come and see you--won't you tell me where you live?" - -There was something in the tone and action of the woman that Elinor -resented, though she didn't know just what it was. - -"Really, I don't know what to say." - -"I'm sorry you're suspicious of me. I wish I could prove to you that -I'm sincere. Please tell me where I can see you." - -"To-morrow, then, here," was Elinor's answer, and finally tore herself -away. - -The moment she entered Leech's office, he broke out with: - -"You haven't lunched, I know. Come on, Miss Ilingsworth, we'll lunch -together." - -"I can't do that, Mr. Leech, I've lunched already," she told him. But -Leech saw clearly the falsity of this statement in the pallor of the -girl's skin, in the hunger in her eyes. And, in the end, as he had -planned, she consented to go with him. As they sat at one of Raphael's -small tables she confided to him how she had been accosted by a strange -woman. At first Leech seemed to regard the incident as not worthy of -attention; but on second thoughts he warned Elinor not to see the woman -again. And his motive in doing this was by no means a disinterested -one, for so clearly and faithfully had Elinor reported the conversation -between the stranger and herself, that the Assistant District Attorney -could not fail to believe that Elinor had, in reality, found a friend. - -"One has got to be so careful here in New York of everybody," he -remarked with an admirable assumption of solicitude. - -But true to her promise, the woman came to the Tombs the next day. And -on seeing Elinor she came quickly toward her with outstretched hand; -but the other merely shook her head and passed on inside. She felt -independent of any outside aid now; for the attitude of Leech was most -encouraging. And there was unusual happiness in her look, an infectious -tone in her laugh as she said to her father: - -"I know you'll get off somehow." - -On the next day and the day after that, Elinor noted the woman still -waiting at her post, still hoping, evidently, that Elinor would speak -to her; and on each of these days Giles Ilingsworth felt the buoyancy -in his daughter's manner. - -"You're like a bit of sunshine in this place," he said. - -On the third day, at sunset, he sent for the deputy. - -"Deputy," said the old man, clutching his coat-sleeve pitifully through -the bars, "I--my daughter hasn't been here to-day." - -"I know," answered the other. "I've missed her, too." - -"She must be ill," the old man said. "Is there any way of finding out? -I have some money with me...." - -They sent a messenger to Elinor's room; but the messenger returned with -the information that she was not in. All that night Ilingsworth paced -his narrow cell; but with the morning sun came new hopes. - -"She'll be here to-day," he assured himself. - -But she didn't come that day either. When his meals were brought to him -he refused to eat. And again all that night he paced his cell. He was -inconsolable. - -Five more days passed without Ilingsworth having received word from his -daughter, but then, just when it seemed that he could bear the suspense -no longer, the deputy came to him and said: - -"There's a lady downstairs who knows your daughter. She's been here -every day, came just to see her. She wants to help--wants her address. -Shall I give it to her?" - -"Yes, yes," exclaimed the old man, eagerly. - -In a little while the woman returned and told the deputy that Miss -Ilingsworth had moved, had taken all her things, had gone, they didn't -know where; and the warden repeated her words to the poor old man -before whom lay many nights yet of sleeplessness and agony. - - - - -XVI - - -"I believe I once remarked to you, Mrs. Peter V., that I needed you," -said Flomerfelt, his fingers stealthily groping into the depth of his -sleeves for his cuffs, and when they were arranged to his satisfaction, -he added: "to manage Peter V. It seems that I was mistaken." - -"And you don't need me?" asked Mrs. Wilkinson anxiously. For the lady -feared Flomerfelt, and realised that he was a dangerous man. In some -way or other she considered him responsible for the attempt on her -husband's life, which ended in the killing of Roy Pallister. She had -never lost confidence in Flomerfelt's ability to win the battle that -he and she were waging against her husband. There had been a time, it -must be acknowledged, when she had looked up to and admired Wilkinson, -but that feeling had long since passed off and had been replaced by one -of tolerance and fear. Now she despised the man--despised him the more -because she believed that Flomerfelt would circumvent him. A poor judge -of character, as she was--a woman whose only end and aim in life was -to feed her own desires--she saw nothing save unsuccessful clumsiness -in Wilkinson's move at this time, and had naught but admiration for -Flomerfelt's promised finesse. - -"You do need me?" she asked, taking refuge in tears. And she was -rewarded by a sudden half-reluctant change in his manner, for he said -soothingly: - -"I suppose I do, but not as far as your husband is concerned. Peter V., -in or out of prison, is sewed up, done up; he's in our hands. Our fight -is with a woman." And even before the last word was spoken he noted -that she seemed to be impressing upon herself the possibility of such a -contingency. "I suppose you know," he went on, "did Peter V. tell you -that Leslie had refused Governor Beekman?" - -"The girl's a fool!" exclaimed her step-mother. "If she halts at -marrying a governor--I'd marry Beekman--I'd marry any governor in the -land! I've been all wrong in thinking that money will do everything in -New York! A millionaire's wife is nobody, unless.... Now if I were a -statesman's wife, they'd have to recognise me--I'd show them!" - -"You don't suppose that she wants _me_, do you?" Flomerfelt said, -putting into his voice as much tenderness as he dared. - -Mrs. Peter V. shook her head, laughing scornfully in spite of herself. - -"Some day, perhaps, we can make her like you, when I'm through liking -you myself," she replied. - -"You?" scowled Flomerfelt. - -The woman shivered at his tone. - -"What reason does she give?" she asked, wisely changing the subject. - -Then Flomerfelt went on to explain with a grim smile what he thought of -the deep-laid plans of Colonel Morehead, the schemes of Wilkinson and -how they had all gone for naught, ending with: - -"She's a born fighter, that Leslie, and it's she that we're up against, -and not Wilkinson. Now the sooner Peter V. wins his fight, the better -for us; but this minx is blocking him, though I admire her for it, I -must say." - -"We'll make her marry Beekman," declared Mrs. Peter V. - -The woman's confidence in her own powers brought a sarcastic smile to -his lips. - -"It isn't a part of my game that she shall marry him," he argued. "The -essential thing is that she shall engage herself to him. I say that she -will never marry him." - -"But Beekman can't be put out of the way as easily as----" - -"There has been too much blundering already," said Flomerfelt, -gloatingly, for the look of fear in her eyes had not escaped him. For -a moment that seemed minutes they were silent. Finally Flomerfelt -announced: "The long and short of it is that I don't intend that this -Beekman shall marry her, and you've got to help me." - -"Of course," said the lady, rejoicing that at last her services would -be brought into play. "But how? What would you suggest?" - -" ... That you go and see him secretly," he told her, and then -proceeded to unfold his plan of what she should say to him. - -"You'll go now?" he asked, observing the readiness in which she lent -herself to his scheme, "and I'll go with you, that is, part way." - -And in no way concerned as to the outcome of her dishonourable -action--so confident was she of Flomerfelt's ability to carry out any -project that he might undertake--Mrs. Peter V., without the slightest -compunction, swept out of the room to make ready for their little -excursion to Beekman's apartments. In a surprisingly short space of -time she came back arrayed in a long fur motor-coat and a hat perched -upon her head with a rakishness that she thought quite smart, but -which, in reality, had not the remotest chance of success unless worn -by a very young and pretty girl. And notwithstanding the fact that -her eyes were over-bright, as were her cheeks, there was no lack -of self-satisfaction in the manner in which she carried herself as -together they passed out through the entrance door, stepped into her -limousine, and were off. - -But scarcely had the limousine passed out of sight of the house than -Jeffries was summoned to the door once more. - -"It's Mr. Beekman back again, Miss Leslie," were the words with which -the butler interrupted Wilkinson's insistence that Leslie should listen -to his final command; "and he says that he must see you at once." - -Wilkinson's eyes gleamed as he snapped out: - -"See him again, Leslie, and patch things up. Mind you, if you don't -take him, I'll drag you to him and make you." - -Frightened lest he should see Beekman before she saw him herself, for -she realised that her father was desperate for some unknown reason and -quite capable of carrying out his threat, Leslie swept on past Jeffries -and into the room where Beekman was waiting, his eyes bright with a new -hope. - -"Idiot that I was, Leslie," he began breathlessly, "I was half way home -before I came to my senses. Then in a flash I saw it all--no, you can't -fool me this time. The whole trouble is your father's troubles. Come, -confess!" - -"But I've already confessed," she said. And so she had, though not in -the way she intended, for her eyes told the story. - -It was, therefore, with no uncertain tread, but rather with a sudden -warmth and force that seemed to take possession of him, body and soul, -that he continued: - -"Look here, little one, this is a matter between you and me and no -one else. You must consider no one, but remember only that I represent -to you the one man in all the world for you, as you stand for the only -woman in the world for me: for I love you, Leslie, and I know that you -love me." - -There had been times when Eliot Beekman had stood before and pleaded -with reluctant juries and judges whose faces were dead set against -him, but his task then had been nothing compared with the one now. And -yet so well did he plead his case, that when he had finished it was as -he had told her: she forgot her father's sentence, forgot everything, -except that she loved him, and that he was the one man in all the world -for her. - -"I believe you," she confessed to him in a whisper; "I believe you are -right. Would to heaven that you had given me the chance to say this to -you months ago." - -"You've loved me all the time?" he asked, his pulse beating fast. - -"Yes," she answered, "and I knew that you loved me." - -The next instant he had brought out the ring which she had refused to -accept, a little while before, and holding out her hand impulsively -Leslie let him put it on. - -There was a pause in which she looked first at the ring and then at the -man before her, the meaning of it all slowly dawning upon her. And -then in some sudden outburst of rapture she let herself be held in his -arms as their lips met in one long kiss. In that moment her heart went -out to him, and she knew that there could never be anyone else for her. -After a time she gently drew herself away from him, and said: - -"My senses are coming back, Eliot, and this surrender is only on one -condition, which is that there shall be no--no wedding--until, until -father is cleared.... Of course, if you will not consent to this," and -she toyed with the gem that sparkled on her finger, "then----" - -"Hold on there, hold on!" cried Beekman. "I'll consent to anything so -long as you're mine...." - -"All over, is it, Eliot?" came in a big voice from somewhere behind -them. - -The pair of lovers sprang apart like two persons caught in the act of -concocting some conspiracy. The interloper was the girl's father. - -"I thought," went on Wilkinson, more gently now, "that I'd drop in -before the news went over the wire. Leslie's been opening up her heart -to me--letting me in on her troubles, and I agree with her, though it's -your own affair, of course. I'd keep the engagement quiet, for the -present." - -"That is precisely what I want; in fact I insist upon it," said Leslie, -tugging at the ring on her finger. - -Beekman watched her struggles in alarm. - -"I consent to anything, just so long as I am sure you're mine, that you -belong to me," he repeated. - -Wilkinson held out his hand, saying: - -"I'll make myself scarce and let you make sure in your own way that -she does belong to you, Governor Beekman. Clinch the bargain, my boy; -strike while the iron's hot; make hay while the sun shines." - -A moment more and Wilkinson had ambled off to smoke another black cigar -and to pat himself upon the back, while the happy pair, heedful of his -advice, in the dim light of the music-room proceeded to make hay while -the sun shone, even though without the November storm raged above the -Hudson. - -It was a night to be marked with a white stone for them, a happy memory -in the days to come. For the time was not far distant when the sun for -them would cease to shine, when the storm was to rage within these two -as it now raged without the big house on the Drive. - - - - -XVII - - -On a bright snappy morning of the following Spring, Governor Beekman, -reaching his private room in the Capitol at Albany a little ahead of -time, began to pace slowly up and down in front of the open windows. -A wonderfully pleasant place the world seemed to him now. However -much his ambition might grope forward in the future, the present was -eminently satisfactory. All his struggles seemed to lie behind him; -before him he saw power, pleasant ways, and Leslie Wilkinson. - -His private secretary, on time to the minute, broke in on his thoughts. - -"This came in last night, Governor," he said, "after you'd left. I read -it over." - -"What is it?" asked the Governor, absent-mindedly. - -"It's a petition for pardon," said the other casually, handing it to -the Governor. - -"What's the conviction," asked the latter, glancing at the document. - -"Murder in the first degree," was the answer. Beekman frowned. Out of -many applications this was the first he had received in a murder case. - -"The game of Governor isn't all beer and skittles, is it, Phillips?" - -"I'll change with you any time you say, Governor," laughed Phillips; -and a moment later he added: "This is the case of Giles Ilingsworth." - -"And who is Giles Ilingsworth?" - -"Don't you remember that Tri-State Trust Company affair? The -vice-president who shot a man named Pallister." - -"Of course, Phillips, now I remember it very well. But I never took -much interest in his case. Have they sent the record up--the printed -case?" - -"Yes, and the Hon. Worth Higgins, of New York, is waiting to see you, -Governor Beekman. He came up yesterday--was at the Remsen last night." - -"So he was. I remember now seeing him this morning, eating breakfast. I -thought he looked at me as if something were in the wind. Tell him to -come in, Phillips; I'll see him right away." - -Bearing underneath his arm a printed book, the Hon. Worth Higgins -entered the arena of events with his accustomed energy. He bowed low -to the Governor, placed a high silk hat on the Governor's table, and -settled down into a seat. - -"Have you read my petition?" he asked of the Governor. - -"I looked at it," replied the other. "You have a choice assortment of -names upon it--looks all right." - -"It is all right," declared Higgins, "I can assure you." - -"I have just fifteen minutes," said the Governor. "I'll take this -matter up with you with pleasure. Give me the printed case. Now point -out to me--the evidence must have been brief on the exact point--the -testimony relating to the crime. Remember I don't want your own -private opinion, I want merely the salient facts of the case." And -after glancing quickly over the pages that Higgins selected, he then -wandered through the testimony on his own account. At sight of the name -of Leslie Wilkinson in the printed index of the witnesses, Governor -Beekman was conscious of a shock; nevertheless he turned to her -testimony and to that of Wilkinson. - -"Seems to have been deliberation all right," he remarked. "But wasn't -there a gun store clerk upon the stand? I was in Austria at the time, -and I lost track of this case." - -Higgins, his countenance falling, pointed out the exact testimony. The -Governor solemnly shook his head, as he observed: - -"And here, Mr. Higgins, are three witnesses in the crowd who say that -they saw him fire the fatal shot. What have you to say to that?" - -"Ah!" exclaimed the Hon. Worth Higgins, his spirits rising, "that is -just the point. If you will examine the cross-examination, blundering -though it be, of my colleague Boggs, you will find that those three -witnesses cannot give a correct account of themselves. They were not -depositors--that much we showed: they were hangers-on of Mulberry Bend -resorts." - -"These three men," returned the Governor, "do not stand impeached by -Boggs, that much is sure; and, besides, this was Ilingsworth's gun. How -do you get away from that?" - -Now Higgins, be it known, was not secretly in sympathy with this errand -of his. He knew instinctively that his mission would fail. He preferred -successful missions, and consequently he had balked. But he had -outlined a plan whereby he would sit down before the Governor and make -his plea, and then retire, leaving the rest to fate. So that he had not -come prepared to answer vital questions, and they annoyed him. Besides, -he knew and felt that Ilingsworth had been convicted on the merits of -the case. Appeals had failed; this petition to the Governor was a last -resort. Nevertheless, he started in to tell the Governor the story his -petition set forth--a story of the wrongs of Ilingsworth. - -Governor Beekman listened patiently to him for a few minutes, then he -said: - -"But this man Ilingsworth ran away, too, didn't he? In my mind that -refutes even this question of quasi-insanity that you set up. You were -beaten on insanity, beaten on everything." - -Once more the Governor took up the petition and glanced at the names -subscribed on it. When he came to the name of Nathan Ougheltree of the -National Banks, he smiled and said: "He heads the list." And running -his finger further down the long line of names, he added sardonically: -"Instead of being People vs. Ilingsworth, it looks like Ougheltree -against Wilkinson--the National Banks against the Trust Companies. At -least it does to me, Mr. Higgins; how does it look to you?" - -The Hon. Worth Higgins flushed to his eyelids. - -"My dear Governor," he said reprovingly, "a man's life is at stake." - -"I understand that, Counsellor," returned the Governor. "I'm just -trying to figure out just how much you and Ougheltree care about the -man's life, that's all. I'll take your papers," he went on, "and have -no fear, I'll go over this thing carefully, give the man the benefit of -every reasonable doubt, and that's the best I can do." - -"You'll pardon him, Governor Beekman," said Higgins, placing his silk -hat upon his head, and lighting a cigar. "You'll pardon him, I predict. -Good-day!" - -Higgins's head was held high in the air until he left the room, but -once outside he conversed dejectedly with his own inner consciousness. - -"What the devil did Ougheltree send me on this fool errand for!" he -protested. "Ilingsworth's done for; anyhow, he's served our purpose. -The _Morning Mail_ has had him for a weapon against Wilkinson long -enough." - -On Church Street he stepped into a telephone booth and called up -Ougheltree in Manhattan. - -"What luck?" queried the National Bank man. - -At his end of the line Higgins chuckled. - -"You can lay this unction to your soul," he replied. "There's no hope. -Besides," unconsciously lowering his voice, "this man B. is Wilkinson's -man from top to toe. I did what I could." - -"Nobody could do more," conceded Ougheltree at the other end; "let it -go at that." - -No sooner was the interview between Higgins and the Governor at an end -than the latter's private secretary tiptoed his way back into the room, -and remarked: - -"You're not through with that Ilingsworth case yet. Somebody else wants -to see you--a woman, this time." - -"His wife, I suppose," said the Governor, wearily. - -Phillips shook his head. - -"Ilingsworth was a widower," he explained. - -"It must be his daughter, then--he has a daughter, so it seems," he -said, tapping the printed case. "Doesn't she give her name? No? Well, -tell her to come in, then." - -The private secretary went out as directed, and a moment later the new -visitor entered. - -In a glance the Governor saw that although she was simply and poorly -clad, she was a woman of great beauty; and presently he said: - -"You are Miss Ilingsworth?" - -The woman turned her lustrous dark blue eyes full upon him--eyes full -of sorrow, full of appeal; they troubled the Governor. - -"I am not Miss Ilingsworth," she returned in a strong, rich, full -voice, vibrant with pathos. "I have no card. My name is Madeline -Braine. I'm a saleswoman in Satterthwaite's department store in New -York." - -The Governor looked at her questioningly. - -"I was informed that you had received the Ilingsworth papers," she -began, going right to the point, "and that Mr. Higgins had been here to -see you. I have come about it, too." - -The Governor drew a chair forward for her; and the young woman leaning -across a table, her figure half-resting lightly upon it, her slender -arm stretching toward him, continued: - -"Yes, I have come to plead for Giles Ilingsworth, to save him -from----" She stopped suddenly, and for an instant her eyes held the -other's glance. - -"Who sent you here?" presently asked the Governor. - -"I came of my own accord, sir." - -"You are not allied with the Ougheltree crowd?" he asked, and his eyes -narrowed. - -Madeline Braine opened hers wide. - -"What Ougheltree crowd?" she queried in return. - -"Come, come," he said a bit impatiently, "you must know what I mean. -I've heard all about this Ilingsworth case. It's been a handle in -the hands of a lot of people for the purpose of hounding Peter V. -Wilkinson." - -"Peter V. Wilkinson," she breathed, a sharp note of enmity in her tone -that the Governor recognised for the thing it was. - -"Ah, you know something of what I say?" he said. - -"I have heard," she began. - -"Then why do you come here?" he interrupted testily. - -Madeline Braine leaned toward him a bit closer, persisting: - -"Because I know that this man Ilingsworth isn't guilty." - -"How do you know it?" he asked. - -"I just know," she replied with feminine logic. - -"You think he was insane? That seems to be the chief argument of his -friends." - -"He isn't guilty of the murder, that's all," she declared, her eyes -glittering for an instant. - -"I wish you'd tell me how you know this?" asked the Governor, firmly. -He was fast getting out of patience with her. - -"Because I've heard him tell his story, and I know it's true," she -insisted stubbornly. - -"But twelve men heard his story," went on the Governor, disturbed out -of his gubernatorial dignity by her evident distress, "and they felt it -wasn't true." - -"They didn't hear it as I heard it," she declared with great -earnestness. "You ought to hear it from him--not read it. Just hear the -sound of his voice, see his face, his eyes! You'd believe him--you'd -know it was true." - -The Governor was interested, not only at her words, but at her forceful -manner; moreover, he was attracted not a little by the young woman's -great beauty. Presently he asked: - -"You were in the crowd the day of the murder? Or perhaps you know -someone who was?" But both these questions she answered negatively. - -The Governor was puzzled. Dealing with the Honourable Worth Higgins -had been an easy matter compared to this. Nevertheless, there was a -wonderfully convincing stubbornness about the woman that disturbed him. - -"You think he had a fair trial?" he asked, flirting the leaves of the -printed case. "It seems to me he had." - -"No," she answered, "he did not...." And then she went on to give her -reasons why she thought this, ending with: "The three witnesses out of -the crowd--the three men who were procured by the police, and who swore -they saw Ilingsworth fire the shot--those men lied." - -The Governor started. - -"Isn't it rather queer that Counsellor Higgins should have harped on -that very thing! You've talked to Higgins this morning, or perhaps some -other time, about this case, haven't you?" - -"I have talked to no one," was her answer, and, somehow, the Governor -felt that she spoke the truth. - -"Leaving out the question of those three men," he went on, "there's -enough proof--the gun, the threats--to have convicted him on -circumstantial evidence." - -"Another reason is," she continued, heedless of his remark, "that the -influence of Peter V. Wilkinson, and especially," she hesitated for an -instant, "the testimony of Miss Leslie Wilkinson were too strong in the -case--too much importance was attached to them." - -At the mention of Leslie's name the Governor winced. Not so much -because of her connection with the case, but he blamed himself for -permitting his thoughts, for one instant, to rest on this woman to the -exclusion of the other. - -"Their testimony," he argued, "was entitled to weight. It was true; and -it established these threats ... I can't see...." - -But there was such genuine distress and anguish on her face, and she -seemed to be advocating such a losing cause that he pitied her, and was -wondering just how he could assist her, when suddenly she leaned closer -to him, her breast swelling, heaving against the polished surface of -the table; and placing her ungloved hand upon his, while with the other -she pushed towards him a closely-written memorandum, she said in soft, -swelling tones: - -"Governor Beekman, I know this man is innocent. See what I have done: -This is a list of men who have been sent to death by juries, courts of -appeals, in times past--innocent men, like Ilingsworth, condemned by -the world, while living, and acquitted only when it was too late. This -man Ilingsworth is not guilty, I say," she concluded, tightening her -grasp on his arm, while her gaze held his. - -The Governor's frame thrilled at her touch. - -"I would not say this, Governor Beekman," she resumed, still holding -his glance, "if I were not desperate, but if there is anything I can -do for you, if there's anything in my power to give, I'll do it if you -will set this man free." - -The Governor felt the warmth of her hand through his sleeve, yet there -was nothing of the temptress in her touch, but rather she had become -a desperate woman, the apotheosis of self-sacrifice, a Monna Vanna, -stopping at nothing to gain her virtuous object. - -"I don't know you," she went on softly, with downcast eyes, "but if -there's anything about me--do with me----" - -Suddenly she stopped. The door had opened, and a girl stood framed in -the doorway. But although the Governor paled perceptibly, he did not -move. After a moment the woman removed her hand from his arm, quietly -rose and stood facing the girl who had entered. - -"Governor Beekman," she said, now turning to him, her face still -appealing in its pathos, her arms half stretched toward him, "I'm -coming here every day, whether you will see me or not. I'm coming -until you consent to see this man Ilingsworth and hear from him the -truth. You must see him, you must hear his story from his lips," she -concluded, holding out her hand. - -"I will say to you precisely what I told Mr. Higgins," he replied, -taking her hand and bowing gravely over it. "I shall consider this -matter fully and faithfully, and shall give Giles Ilingsworth the -benefit of every reasonable doubt." - -When the woman had finally gone, Leslie came forward laughing, but with -just enough nervousness showing in her laugh to startle Beekman, and -remarked: - -"Take care, take care, Eliot, some of them will get you if you don't -watch out!" - -By this time the Governor had thrown off the subtle influence of the -woman, and smiling, too, he answered: - -"Let me tell you all about it, Leslie," and proceeded to do so, despite -her protests that she didn't care to hear it. During his recital, -however, she broke in with: - -"She's awfully attractive, Eliot, to say the least!" - -"To tell you the truth, Leslie," he laughed, "I'm not quite sure how -far her influence upon me is going to go." - -"Surely you don't mean----" began Leslie, but Beekman joined in -quickly, soberly, honestly saying: - -"Just this: that if she persists, it may result in my seeing Giles -Ilingsworth." - -"Oh!" The interjection plainly showing her relief. But a moment more -and she had recalled Colonel Morehead's warnings that under no -circumstances was Beekman to be permitted to hear Ilingsworth's story -from his own lips. - -Immediately, therefore, to Beekman's surprise, the reserve that had -marked her manner dissolved, and she cried: - -"Eliot, don't see him! Please don't see him, Eliot!" - -"But why not?" he inquired, smiling. - -"Because I don't want you to," she told him. - -"Leslie! Surely you're not trying to pit your influence against hers? -What?" he said, his smile changing to an expression of slight annoyance. - -"No, indeed," she replied. "It's something else." - -"Why, then?" - -"That's the trouble--I don't know. Only, he was, is still, my father's -enemy. Oh, I have seen his fury--he meant murder--he did murder...." - -"It is because the case is a murder case," explained the Governor, -"that it troubles me. It's the first murder case since my election, and -really, I don't know--I can't promise anything now." - - * * * * * - -Madeline Braine lived up to her promises. Day after day for a week she -had waited persistently in the Governor's ante-room, buoyed up with -the hope that eventually he would accede to her wishes. At last her -patience was rewarded: for the Governor, passing through the room -where she waited, suddenly announced to his private secretary that he -would consent to an interview with Ilingsworth the following day at -noon. And turning to the woman, he added: - -"I want you here, Miss Braine, too." - -Phillips, the Governor's private secretary, frowned to himself. Unknown -to the Governor, he was one of Wilkinson's most faithful men--placed -at the Governor's side apparently by the Governor's untrammelled -choice--but actually forced upon him without his own knowledge. - -"I don't like this a little bit," thought Phillips to himself. "It -looks bad, bad...." - -The following day punctually at noon, in obedience to the mandate of -the Governor, three men marched into the waiting-room at the Capitol. -Two were men in uniform; one in civilian's dress. - -"You can go right in," said the secretary, nodding to them. And passing -into the Governor's private office they found him at his desk, signing -some papers. In a corner sat Miss Madeline Braine. One of the uniformed -officers stood at attention, waiting until the Governor should look up. - -"This is Giles Ilingsworth, sir," he said at length. - -Instantly the Governor raised his eyes and looked at the prisoner--a -man whose hair was turning grey, whose aspect was pathetically -hopeless. And steeling himself against the sight--for it was within -the range of possibility that all murderers looked this way, guilty or -not,--he ordered him to sit down, and pointing to a seat, he added: - -"Mr. Ilingsworth, take this chair, please." - -The chair had been placed so that the light shone full upon the face of -the condemned man. And the instant that Ilingsworth had seated himself, -some new expression crossed the face of the Governor as unconsciously -he placed his hand against his forehead. In an instant, however, he -had removed it, and his glance went from Ilingsworth to the young -woman sitting in the corner, at the same time motioning to her to come -forward. - -"Mr. Ilingsworth," he began gently, "the fact that I have consented to -see you is due to your friend, Miss Madeline Braine." - -The prisoner turned an expressionless countenance toward the girl. - -"My friend, Miss Madeline Braine!" he exclaimed, his hand, too, -creeping along his own forehead. "I have no friend of the name Braine." - -"You may not know her by that name, but this is the lady," said the -Governor. - -Giles Ilingsworth stared hard at her; the next instant he announced: - -"I don't know this lady, sir." - -The Governor was startled afresh. - -"You don't know her? Why, she's been pleading for you for days." - -Ilingsworth smiled gratefully, murmuring: - -"Some young newspaper woman, I suppose. I thank her for it." - -The Governor shook his head. - -"She's not a newspaper woman--I know that," he returned. "I mistook her -for your daughter." - -Giles Ilingsworth struggled wildly to his feet, and brushing his hair -roughly from his forehead as he leaned over the Governor's desk and -looked him full in the eye, he cried: - -"My daughter! My daughter----" - -"Stop!" ordered the Governor in commanding tones, the puzzled look on -his face giving way to one of recognition, relief. - -"I've placed you now--yes, by Jove, I'm right--I know you!" He laughed -with the surprise of it all. - -Ilingsworth continued to stare vacantly into space. - -"'And the rest by the names underneath,'" quoted the Governor, touching -him on the arm, as though to arouse him. - -"Eh?" exclaimed the prisoner, working his fingers convulsively through -his hair. - -"Listen to this!" And the Governor recited with almost boyish glee: - - "'I recognise Dante because he's tab-eared, - And Virgil I know by his wreath, - Old Homer I tell by his rough shaggy beard-- - And the rest _by the names underneath_.'" - -"Don't you remember it?" he added, when he had finished the verse. - -Ilingsworth's face lighted up. - -"Why, sir," he cried, "it's my favourite. Where did you hear it?" - -"From your own lips," replied the Governor. "And at the same time you -showed me that,"--and he pointed with his finger to the spot where the -old man had brushed away his hair from his forehead--"the Heidelberg -scar upon your head. And you were reading Dante at the time." - -Ilingsworth pulled a thumb-worn volume out of his pocket. - -"I've that copy of the Inferno yet," he murmured sadly. "It keeps -reminding me.... My daughter"--he peered uncertainly at the Governor. -"I'm curious to know, sir, when I met you. I can't seem to place you." - -"But I remember you very well indeed," rejoined the Governor. "I rode -with you all day long to Buffalo, some months ago. We were on the -Empire State Express together." - -"Buffalo?" said Ilingsworth. "I never went to Buffalo." - -"Oh, yes, you did," persisted the Governor; and drawing from his -breast-pocket a diary he turned over the leaves rapidly until he came -to a certain page. "Yes, you went to Buffalo on the 27th day of April, -190--that's the date." - -"I can't seem to remember it," was all that Ilingsworth said; but at -that moment a figure sprang towards the Governor, and a voice cried in -his ear: - -"The date--what was that date? The twenty-seventh day of what?" - -"April." - -"Please repeat it." - -The Governor repeated it. - -"Are you absolutely sure?" she cried. - -"Of course," he answered. "Why?" - -"And you say you took the Empire State Express?" demanded Madeline -Braine, almost beside herself with excitement. "What time does it leave -in the morning?" - -"It leaves always at the same time--eight-thirty in the morning." - -"It was an all-day ride?" - -"Yes." - -"And Giles Ilingsworth was near you all the way? You're sure that you -were with him on the Empire State Express at eleven o'clock--eleven in -the morning that day?" - -"Surely I was." - -Madeline Braine offered up a silent prayer. - -"I knew, I knew," she cried, "that there must be some way out of this! -Giles Ilingsworth was miles away at the time when Pallister was killed! -The murder took place on April 27th at eleven o'clock in the morning, -at the very instant when you and he were riding to Buffalo as fast as -steam could carry you! You----" - -She sank into her chair and covered her face with her hands. - -"I told you he was innocent," she said, smiling through her tears. - -There was a tense moment in which Governor Beekman, the prisoner and -the two officers stood staring at each other in speechless amazement. - -"Can it be possible ...!" exclaimed the Governor at length, and again -he consulted his diary. All of a sudden something else on the page that -he was looking at caught his eye, and he cried out: - -"It was at six o'clock that evening in the Iroquois that I read the -murder in the papers. It was that day--it was...." And a moment later -he was at his desk rapidly leafing over the printed case for the date -of the commission of the crime. - -There was no mistake about it. Every witness had it pat. Repeatedly in -his opening address and in his summing up the District Attorney had -referred to it; three times it appeared in the Court's charge to the -jury. - -"Phillips," he directed, when his secretary appeared, "call up my -office in New York; call up the District Attorney's office in New York; -and call up the Bank Le Boeuf in Buffalo. Get them right away, please." - -The calls were answered quickly. Once the people at the other end knew -the Governor of New York was on the wire, everything was put aside to -do his bidding; and at the end of an hour the Governor sank back into -his chair with a sigh of satisfaction. - -"There is not the slightest doubt about it," he told them. "At the -very time the shot was fired in Lafayette Street, New York, this man -was with me miles away from the spot." He looked at the officers -significantly. "When was he to be----" He broke off, shuddering at the -thought of the man's narrow escape. - -"Next week Thursday," came from the officers. - -Beekman thought for some time. Finally he said: - -"I'll grant him a reprieve for a month. It may take a week to verify -the facts." - -When the prisoner had been led away, the Governor turned to Madeline -Braine, and said with great feeling: - -"Miss Braine, I owe you a debt of gratitude I can never repay. If it -hadn't been for you I would have sent this man to his doom--and one -of these days, when it was too late, I would have found it out, and -then...." His finger-nails bit into his palms. "You've saved me from -the Inferno that he harps upon." - -But much to the Governor's surprise, the woman before him seemed to -receive this remark listlessly. An unaccountable depression was upon -her; there was no fire in her eyes; and the hand that she gave to him -was cold as ice. Yet, instinctively he felt that she must be grateful. - -"If I can ever be of service"--she murmured. But Beekman interrupted -her. - -"Pardon me, it is I who wish to be of some service to you. But will you -tell me," he asked, another thought coming into his mind, "how it was -that you didn't know Ilingsworth, and that he didn't know you? How do -you account for it, Miss Braine?" - -"I think this day has taught us that there are many unaccountable -things in life, hasn't it, Governor?" - -And the Governor, when once more seated alone at his desk, was forced -to acknowledge to himself that it had. - -Governor Beekman was still at his desk going over some papers when -Phillips, some time later, came in and handed him a telegram, saying: - -"It's in cipher, sir." - -"Cipher!" said the other. "Why cipher? I have no code with anybody. Can -you read it?" - -"It says 'Coal gone to $6.50 retail.'" And passing it over, added: -"It's signed, M. X. Y. Z." - -"And you say that's a cipher?" asked the Governor. - -"Yes. The X. Y. Z. means the X. Y. Z. Code, apparently," explained -Phillips, glibly. "I have the A. B. C. and the X. Y. Z. in my desk. I -translated it while you were busy. It means this: 'Court has affirmed -Wilkinson conviction. Morehead.'" - -Governor Beekman started with genuine anxiety. - -"The deuce you say! I'm sorry, very sorry, to hear that," he said; but -Phillips only smiled--a smile that the Governor did not see. "I can't -understand why they affirm that conviction, I can't--I can't ..." he -kept saying to himself. Then aloud to his secretary: "Get me a copy of -that opinion, will you, Phillips? I want to see it, word for word." - -And it was with considerable satisfaction that the private secretary -observed, as he left the room, that the Governor was nervously pacing -to and fro. - - - - -XVIII - - -In Colonel Morehead's office at 120 Broadway, Peter V. Wilkinson sat at -the window reading a typewritten document of considerable length. He -was white and rigid; while Leslie, standing beside him, rested her arm -upon his shoulder. As he read he stirred uneasily, even his daughter's -hand felt heavy upon him, and he shrugged it off. - -"By all the gods!" he groaned from time to time; "those chaps have -nerve to say such things about me!" - -"They seem to have the right," said the Colonel, suppressing a chuckle, -"and I suppose we can't complain." - -When Peter V. had finished reading the opinion, he wiped his face with -his kerchief--the perspiration had started from every pore. - -"That's the last crack, I suppose, Morehead," he ventured. - -Morehead did not immediately answer, but turned to Leslie and said: - -"There's a new Inness in the next room that I picked up at a bargain. -Would you like----" And without waiting for her answer the Colonel led -the way to an adjoining room, where he pointed out briefly to her the -artistic features of his new acquisition, and leaving her to admire it, -he came back, closing the door behind him. - -"Peter," he said softly, "how much money have you squandered on this -business in the last year--since you were indicted, convicted and so -forth. I mean outside of what you haven't paid me and of what I know -about?" - -Wilkinson grunted in disgust. - -"Ten, I should say." - -"Millions?" - -His client fumed and nodded. - -Morehead made a gesture of impatience which included the other. - -"Didn't I warn you, Peter, that it would be of no use? That at the end -of the race you'd find yourself with a ten-years' sentence staring -you in the face. You might have saved your money, or given it to me, -preferably the latter course." - -"Oh, come, Morehead, what's the use of these post mortems of yours! -Let's get to work. How much time have we got?" - -"I can get a few certificates of reasonable doubt--that part's all -right--run it along for months yet. We've got to concede, however, -that they shoved it along mighty quick. What I'm trying to figure out -is whether we hadn't better apply to Beekman now--strike while the -iron's hot. For that opinion will make him mad, and if so, now is our -time...." - -"Sure it's our time, Colonel; let's do it right away." - -Morehead slipped into the next room and adjusted the window-shade. - -"The light is a little better, now, Miss Leslie. I want you to like -that picture. If you like it well enough, maybe I'll give it to you one -of these days...." - -Leslie smiled her gratitude, glancing anxiously at the same time into -the next room. - -"Can I go back to father now?" she asked. - -"Of course, I came to get you," said Colonel Morehead; and when they -were back in the room in which her father waited, the Colonel, lounging -easily in his seat, went on to confide to her the fact that her father -was at last in desperate straits; that this opinion constituted his -last chance with the courts. - -"Your father and I have been talking it over," he said in a tone of -finality; "and the hand of the National Banks sticks up like a sore -finger all through the case. It's an outrage! We've decided that this -is the proper time and the proper case to present to Governor Beekman -for pardon. What do you think ...?" - -At first, while Morehead was explaining, as well as he knew how, the -unpleasant situation that her father was in, Leslie had half-risen in -her chair, her face growing white; but at the lawyer's concluding words -her colour came back. - -"Why, I--I never thought of that!" she cried out, her troubles slipping -from her suddenly. - -Colonel Morehead smiled at her until she lowered her eyes in confusion. -Afterwards he deigned to explain that neither had they until just now. - -"Providence," put in Wilkinson, winking at Colonel Morehead, "seems to -be on our side--the appellate courts to the contrary notwithstanding." - -"The right shall prevail," quoth Morehead, unblushingly. - -"Isn't it funny," exclaimed Leslie, "that none of us ever thought of -this before!" - -Leslie thought of it a good deal afterwards, however, and the very next -day in the Mastodon car she canvassed in person practically every house -upon the Drive and over on Fifth Avenue to get the list of signatures -that the Colonel wished her to obtain. - -"This has got to be done right, Miss Leslie," he impressed upon her. -"For when Eliot pardons your father, remember that he's got to show why -he does it, and upon whose petition." - -"You mean"--she faltered, "that he may be criticised?" - -"It's quite possible, my dear. The _Morning Mail_, for instance, will -doubtless roast him from here to Gehenna and back again." - -Leslie's smile of girlish confidence returned. - -"Eliot won't mind," she said. "I don't believe he cares much about -anything except me. He'll do right by us no matter what happens, I feel -sure of that." - -"And I think," suggested the Colonel, "that when we hand in our -petitions, we'll all go up together." - -Leslie laughed in sheer delight. - -"Of course we'll all go up together," she returned. "Our march to -victory." - - * * * * * - -"That man Ilingsworth is here again," Phillips told the Governor, -somewhat reluctantly; "and he wants to see you." - -"Show him in," briskly returned his chief. "I'll be delighted to see -him." - -Ilingsworth came in slowly, dejectedly, alone. No guard was with him; -the air he breathed was free air, and yet there were no signs of -contentment. - -"I didn't come exactly to thank you, Governor," he said uneasily. "I -did that in my letter when they told me of my pardon. I came to you -because in all my life you are the only man who ever really helped -me--for it seems to have been the mission of other men to drag me down. -I have come for help once more." - -"I want to help you, Mr. Ilingsworth," volunteered the Governor. -"What's the trouble? Is it--money?" - -Ilingsworth slowly shook his head. - -"No, it is not money...." He paused and looked about him uncertainly, -murmuring to himself: "What is it that I want?" - -Beekman touched him kindly. - -"You seem to lose yourself at times," he remarked. "For instance, you -didn't remember that trip to Buffalo." - -"That's the only time I ever lost myself, I guess," was his answer. -"If I hadn't lost myself then, I suppose I could have proved an alibi. -I couldn't account for myself upon my trial, and nobody who knew me -had seen me for a few days. I must have knocked about Buffalo and come -back." - -"You were looking for a farm." - -"Yes, you told me that. It comes back to me now. And there was a farm, -but it's all very vague--a farm some years ago somewhere up there. I -had the notion to find it and to live on it--just myself and----" he -broke off abruptly, and there was a new light in his eyes and a world -of pathos in the voice that said: "It's my daughter that I want to see -you about. I want to find her. Can't you help me to find her?" - -"Don't you know where she is?" - -"I haven't seen her for, oh, so long--so long. When they put me away -she would come to the Tombs--twice she came up the River to see me. But -the last time there was something in her face I couldn't understand, -then she never came again, and I knew they'd got her. For she had to -get along, somehow, and she didn't dare to face me. Poor girl, there -was no one to care for her--see to her!" And then all of a sudden -flaring up out of his downcast demeanour, he cried: - -"Curse them! Curse that man Wilkinson--all of them! First they robbed -me of my money, then they got me, and now they've got her!" - -The Governor's eyes narrowed. - -"What has Wilkinson to do with it?" he demanded. - -"Why, don't you know?" Ilingsworth burst out excitedly. "Doesn't -everybody know? Didn't you read my testimony at the trial?" - -"Only hurriedly," acknowledged the Governor. "What I wanted to read -first was the case made against you. I read your own denial--but as -for the rest, well, you were rambling, somewhat incoherent. I didn't -understand it--in fact I hardly read it all." - -Ilingsworth dragged up a chair. - -"Will you let me tell you, sir, all about it?" - -Governor Beekman let him tell his story. And scarcely had the last -words of Ilingsworth's recital of his wrongs left his lips than -Phillips, entering, announced: - -"Colonel Morehead and some friends to see you, sir!" - -"Bring them right in!" exclaimed the Governor, at once rising and going -with a smile to meet them. Suddenly he remembered Ilingsworth and -started to escort that gentleman out of another entrance. - -"But my daughter," mumbled Ilingsworth as with bowed head he followed -the Governor. "If I can't have her back again, why, what's the good of -a pardon? I must have help to find her." At the door something impelled -him to pause, and looking back he found himself face to face with Peter -V. Wilkinson. - -"That's the man--there--the man that got my money--that's got my -daughter! No matter where she is, he's responsible! Look at him! Look -at his face! I don't have to tell you...." - -But the Governor, startled by this outburst and intent upon getting rid -of his visitor, did not turn, and consequently he did not see the face -of Wilkinson blanch and twitch under the accusing forefinger of his old -vice-president, Giles Ilingsworth. - -"I'll help you find your daughter, sir," the Governor promised, taking -the man by the arm; "I'll help you all I can." - -"Poor chap," said he, returning, and shaking hands with his guests, -"seems to have it in for you, Mr. Wilkinson." - -"I don't blame him having it in for somebody," spoke up Leslie. "It is -not his innocence or guilt that interests me, but his daughter. I saw -her picture once--saw her twice," she went on wistfully. "How I wish -that I might help him...." - -Colonel Morehead, tucking the Ilingsworth incident into the back of his -head for future use, laid down a batch of papers and his printed case -upon the Governor's desk. - -"Governor--Eliot," he remarked jovially, "the New York _Reporter_ and -the _Star_ call you the pardoning Governor." - -"Yes. They rapped me hard, didn't they," he said, all unconscious -that they were Wilkinson's own papers. "But what could I do? The man -Ilingsworth was innocent--I knew he was innocent." - -"Oh, they didn't hit you very hard--just a little dig in the short -ribs--friendly little scrap, don't you know," said Morehead, -soothingly. "But the _Morning Mail_ made up for it, my boy. They'll -stick to you through thick and thin, and don't you forget it. It won't -hurt you. Ougheltree's backing is not to be sneezed at by any man. But -what I started in to say, Eliot, was, that since you're the pardoning -Governor, so-called, why, we've got a little bone to pick with you--a -petition--or petitions, rather, in the case of the People versus -Wilkinson." - -Colonel Morehead handed up his bunch of papers, Leslie following suit, -as she said with a little smile: - -"My contribution, Governor." - -"A bit stiff, that U. S. Supreme decision," said the Governor, taking -them, and looking at Wilkinson. "It seemed to me unnecessarily rough." - -Wilkinson shrugged his shoulders. - -"With the National Banks against me, how can the U. S. courts be for -me--that's what I'd like to know?" he asked. - -"Will you hear me now, Governor," interposed Morehead. - -For an instant the Governor hesitated. Then he replied that he would -send for him when he was ready; that he had to read the case all -through, ending with: - -"I've forgotten half of it. I'll read it and then I'll set a day...." - -But that day was long forthcoming. For it was not until three weeks -later that Colonel Morehead heard anything relating to their visit -to the Governor in Albany. And then, one morning to his surprise, -Governor Beekman presented himself at his office in Broadway, and -handing him a personal memorandum, he said: - -"I was down here and thought we'd clean these up first. I'm going to -Murgatroyd's to look at the original exhibits when I'm through here--or -he'll probably send them to my office." - -The Colonel gave the man before him one long searching glance. He noted -that the Governor's face was unnaturally flushed; there were deep lines -on it; he had the appearance of an over-worked man. - -"Must have burned some midnight oil on this thing, Eliot?" said -Morehead. - -The Governor wearily drew his hand across his face. - -"I have," he answered shortly. - -"The first memo.," went on the Governor, referring to the printed case, -"relates to page 121." - -Morehead found page 121 and his face reddened perceptibly. The Governor -had touched a sore spot: page 121 contained the first bit of damning -documentary evidence against Wilkinson. Morehead ran through the -other pages indicated on the memorandum; and closing his eyes for a -few seconds, he pressed his hands against them and thought hard. The -Governor had burnt midnight oil to some purpose: he had located every -weak place in Wilkinson's armour--and Morehead knew it. - -"I merely want to find out what Wilkinson's explanation of all these -things is," remarked the Governor, grimly. - -"I'll tell you," said the Colonel, glibly; "that's easy, Eliot. Or, -perhaps," he suggested in order to gain time, "we might get Wilkinson -down here, and have him go over these things with you and me." Already -his hand was on the telephone; but the Governor stayed it. - -"Your explanation will do, Colonel." - -For two hours the Governor listened to Morehead's explanation. At -the end of that time the Governor was still leaning forward studying -every expression in the other's face; but the lines were deeper in -his own face, while on the Colonel's lean countenance small beads of -perspiration stood forth. - -"That's the explanation of it, is it, Colonel?" asked the Governor. - -"That's the whole thing in a nut-shell," returned Morehead. - -Hurriedly the Governor took his departure. He was nervous, anxious, -worried. - -"It seems to be the kind of an explanation that doesn't explain ..." he -told himself. Now he went back to his old office on Nassau Street and -telephoned to Murgatroyd for the original exhibits. At the Barristers' -Club, behind locked doors, he examined the documents for hours. All -night long he studied them; then he rose and gazed out into the grey -dawn. - -"Wilkinson is guilty!" he cried out; "damnably guilty! Why didn't I see -it all before?" - -There was a reason: Colonel Morehead had been right when he told -Wilkinson that Beekman was partisan. And so long as his duty lay -that way, Beekman was partisan. But now he was Governor; his duty in -this case had become judicial; he saw with impartial eyes; and what -he saw and what he read was not the mere testimony of witnesses, not -evidence that depended on veracity, but documents whose genuineness -was undisputed, and whose significance had strangely escaped him until -now. In his own words, over his own signature, Wilkinson had convicted -himself over and over again. - -"Damnably guilty," he repeated to himself. - - * * * * * - -One evening some days later Colonel Morehead betook himself into -the presence of Peter V. Wilkinson and his daughter Leslie. He had -with him, he said, a note which had come from the Governor's private -chambers, which he wished to read to them. It ran: - - _My dear Colonel_: - - I have examined with great care the petitions for pardon in the - People vs. Wilkinson. Also the printed record. There seem to be - undisputed facts which are totally inconsistent with innocence. - The verdict seems to have been justified, the decisions on appeal - correct. There are no extenuating circumstances known to me which - require executive interference. - - Very truly, - - ELIOT BEEKMAN. - -"What the devil does he want?" growled Wilkinson, taking the letter -from Morehead, and tossing it to Leslie. "Is it money or political -preferment? Haven't I given him enough?" his anger increasing as he -went on. "I made him----" - -"Stop!" cried Morehead, alarmed lest he should betray to her their -political secret. - -"I mean I gave him my daughter," corrected the father, "everything I -had." - -Morehead stared at them a moment from under knitted brows. Presently he -said: - -"Peter, I'd send Leslie to him. This letter is only tentative." - -"It's a refusal," gasped Wilkinson, hopelessly. - -"It's a denial to me," explained Colonel Morehead. "But wait until he -sees her! He'll have something different to say to her, I know." - -And so it happened that the following day Leslie Wilkinson arrived at -Albany to interview her betrothed on her father's behalf. - -"I came to talk to you, Eliot, about my father," she began. - -Beekman swayed in his chair. His eyes seemed sunken in his head, and -his head ached from weariness and lack of sleep. - -"Yes, Leslie," he said. - -"Colonel Morehead didn't--couldn't understand what your letter meant, -so I came to see." - -"It means that I can't pardon your father, Leslie," he told her with -great difficulty. - -"Why not?" - -"Because your father is guilty----" - -"Eliot!" she cried, leaping back with flashing eyes. - -"But I must speak the truth, Leslie," said the Governor, "and that's -the truth." - -There was a silence that lapsed into minutes. Beekman was the first to -break it. - -"Unfortunately for us all," he said, "I'm sworn to do my duty--I don't -know that it makes much difference about my being sworn--I'd have to do -it anyway." - -"You defended him," she said with sudden spirit. "You believed him -innocent then--you said so a thousand times." - -"I defended him below," he returned, "because it was my duty to defend -him. I had never seen any other side of the case then; but now I know I -was wrong. He's guilty, deliberately guilty, wofully guilty...." - -"Eliot, must I remind you that you are speaking of my father! Have I -no right, no influence, no claim upon you?" she rattled on breathlessly. - -"Yes, you have a claim upon me," he said, eyeing her sternly. "Your -influence is of the best, Leslie, and it is your right, your duty -to claim, to demand of me that I shall do my duty in this as in all -things. If I were false in this, I would be false to you." - -But Leslie could not see things in his light, bent as she was on -obtaining her father's pardon. - -"You pardoned Giles Ilingsworth?" she went on; "and now you won't...." - -"Yes, I pardoned Giles Ilingsworth," he admitted. - -"A murderer!" she blazed forth. - -"I pardoned him because he was innocent," he insisted. - -"And you can't pardon my father?" - -Eliot Beekman did not answer at once, but hung his head under the -girl's scrutinising gaze. She looked very beautiful, irresistibly -beautiful to him pleading there, and for a moment he came perilously -near to wavering in his purpose. He would have liked to have taken her -in his arms, to have uttered the one word of all others that she wished -to hear and to have sent her home happy. But, hard as it was to deny -her, he knew from the first that it was impossible to grant her request. - -"No, Leslie, I can't," he told her at last. - -"Look at me!" she cried, now changing her tactics. "I haven't slept, I -haven't eaten! Have you no pity for me--if not for him?" - -"But, Leslie, you're asking me to commit a crime!" - -"Just a stroke of the pen, dear, and my father will be free," she -went on, half sobbing, half smiling. "It's his last chance--my last -chance--surely you can't, you won't refuse me this." - -Then followed a scene that lived in Beekman's memory for ever -after--the memory of a woman, the woman he loved, crawling after him on -her knees, pleading, almost writhing in agony, imploring him to do this -impossible thing--a thing that, were it not for his conscience, was so -ridiculously easy: merely the exercising of the authority vested in -him, and solely in him, and thus save the father of the woman he loved -from serving a term of ten years at hard labour in the State's Prison. - -"Why was I ever Governor!" burst out Beekman. - -"I'll tell you why," said Wilkinson, striding suddenly into the room. -"It's because I made you Governor, that's why! I--I bought you the -job--I----" - -"You?" ejaculated Beekman. - -"Yes, it is true," said Flomerfelt, gliding also into the scene. "You -owe it all to Peter V." - -"Now you've got to do it!" exclaimed Leslie, staggering to her feet. - -Beekman eyed them all with growing determination. He was beginning to -see things clearly now. - -"I even gave you my daughter, confound you!" went on Wilkinson. - -Beekman turned back to his desk and stood there, calm now, desperately -calm. - -"So you made me Governor just to get this pardon?" - -Flomerfelt started to speak, but Wilkinson was before him. - -"Yes," snarled Wilkinson, "just to get this pardon. Do you think for an -instant that you were put here for any other reason? Or that you had -any qualifications for the office?" - -Leslie laughed a discordant laugh, and Flomerfelt, seeing at once that -the girl was in complete sympathy with her father, stepped back behind -them. - -"There are many good reasons, Mr. Wilkinson," said the Governor, -grimly, "Why you should not be pardoned. Needless to say you know -what they are. But," he added fiercely, for he knew that he had been -tricked, "if there were no other reason, the fact that you had put me -here to secure your pardon would make it impossible for me to act." He -stopped and stared at Leslie, his eyes unconsciously seeking hers for -sympathy, but something there shocked him beyond measure, and before he -was aware of what he was saying, he blurted out: - -"Did you give me your daughter for the same season? Did you, Leslie----" - -There was a deep silence in which the attention of all was focussed on -the girl. - -"Mr. Beekman," she said, in a cold, hard voice, though her eyes were -softly eager, "will you tell me once for all whether you're going to -pardon my father?" - -"I certainly am not going to pardon him," declared Beekman. - -Leslie favoured him with a little stinging laugh. - -"Then you'd better know the rest. Yes, it is true that my father gave -me to you--I gave myself to you for that very reason, and no other.... -I made a big mistake; so did he. We should have made our bargain before -we took that step. It would have been better." She paused to take -breath, and presently went on in a voice that rankled: "You talked once -to me of equals--and when you got this office you thought, at last, -that you were my equal. I know better; you're my inferior. And I want -you to know and to understand--and understand it clearly--that the -Wilkinsons do not mate with cowards." And with that she drew off her -ring and placed it before him, crying: "There!" - -An instant later, Leslie, strangling a sob that threatened to escape, -hurriedly fled from the room, her father and Flomerfelt following -closely on her heels. - - - - -XIX - - -In common with most men who have attained their ambition to be -money-kings, Peter V. Wilkinson regarded the legal profession solely -in the light of the ability of its members to provide processes for -him by means of which the law could be evaded. Failing in that or in -their promises of immunity from imprisonment,--which is much more -to the point in this case,--their usefulness, naturally, ceased. -Accordingly, from time to time, one after another of his superfluous -counsel had been dropped, even Patrick Durand, able criminal lawyer -as he was acknowledged to be, being forced to content himself with a -handsome souvenir of his connection with the case, to the exclusion of -any further interest in the expected spoils. Obviously, the old Colonel -was retained, but even this field marshal of a hundred campaigns, when -he arrived at the Wilkinson suite in the Remsen at Albany in response -to Wilkinson's imperative summons, had to acknowledge that the battle -of his life--the last battle of what he called the running fight--was -on, and likely, so at least it looked at the present time, to be his -Waterloo. - -It was but little wonder that, witnessing the burst of rage with which -Wilkinson had told him of the Governor's refusal to pardon, not to -speak of the pitiful state of collapse in which he found Leslie, that -thwarted and disappointed as he was, Colonel Morehead came to feel -that there was little likelihood of anything being immediately done -towards the forming of a new campaign. Practically, the Wilkinson -advisory committee had dwindled down to three--a triumvirate now, as it -were--for Flomerfelt, doubtless for reasons of his own, had returned -to New York; and Morehead at once set himself the task of forcing the -intellects of father and daughter to resume their functions. With the -girl it did not prove difficult. Womanlike, and despite her horror of -the inevitable, she flung aside her own personal troubles at the call -of the Colonel for a consultation, and entered the conclave intent on -helping her father in his last great struggle with an energy that she -determined would be boundless. - -"Colonel Morehead, why can't father go away?" suddenly said the girl. - -"Why not, Morehead?" asked Wilkinson, fairly jumping at her words. - -But the Colonel was still sullen. He was beaten, or thought he was, -which is very much the same thing. Wilkinson, on the contrary, seemed -to find new life in the moroseness of the other. And for the first -time in the struggle Wilkinson seemed to feel that the whole fight -rested on his own shoulders, and Wilkinson was one who dearly loved to -fight alone and single-handed. - -"Why not run away, Morehead?" he repeated. - -"How?" demanded the Colonel with little interest. - -"The _Marchioness_ ..." suggested Leslie. - -"And forfeit a million dollars bail?" - -"Yes. Why not?" - -"Don't make any mistake," declared Wilkinson, "they'll never get me -behind the bars again! Never! Not even if I have to----" A new strange -note had forced itself into his tone. Leslie, feeling suddenly cold, -crept closer to him. - -"Don't, don't talk that way, father!" she cried. "It shall never come -to that." - -Morehead, even, was alarmed. - -"Peter, you don't mean----" he began. - -"I mean," repeated the other, looking sturdily at him, "that if they -ever put me behind the bars, it will be after life has left my body." - -Leslie uttered a half-strangled cry and buried her face in her hands. -But Wilkinson only braced himself. - -"We haven't got to that yet, Colonel," he observed. There was a pause, -after which he repeated his question: "Why not run away, eh?" - -The Colonel thought a moment. Then, taking both Wilkinson and Leslie -by the arm marched them to the window and drew back the curtain. - -"Do you see that Italian fruit-vender over there selling figs to the -swell? They're Murgatroyd's men, both of them. Murgatroyd's got you -surrounded, sewed up, tied in. One of the elevator boys in the Remsen -here is a New York County man; the chambermaid of this suite is a -detective. Murgatroyd has sworn that you won't get away. It may cost -the County of New York a million dollars, but you know Murgatroyd! And, -besides, behind him stand the National Banks. How much will they put up -to break you, eh? Murgatroyd will put you behind the bars as sure as -guns--unless----" He stopped, his eyes were half shut. - -"Unless----" repeated father and daughter, leaning forward. - -Morehead did not answer at once. His mind was working fast; he was -evidently feeling his way clear before committing himself. Suddenly he -said: - -"Peter, how long have you worn a beard?" - -The question seemed so irrelevant that the millionaire started. - -"Why, nearly all my life," he answered. "I've--I've never shaved. -But----" - -"It was so bristly," explained the Colonel, "that I thought it might be -the result of shaving; but everything about you bristles, so I guess -it's nature and not art. When you first saw it coming, you let it grow, -didn't you--and you've had it ever since?" - -Peter V. did not like the turn the conversation was taking, and merely -nodded. - -The Colonel uncrossed his legs and sat on the edge of the table, facing -them. - -"How do you look without a beard?" he asked. - -Leslie laughed aloud in sheer delight. The problem seemed to be solving -itself, but how or in what way she could not see. - -"Blamed if I know," answered Wilkinson. "I don't even remember how I -used to look without a beard, and as for photographs, well, in former -days those luxuries were not for me, you know." - -Colonel Morehead stuck his hands into his armpits and rested his chin -upon his shirt front. Presently he went on: - -"Peter, you know this is Murgatroyd's pet case. It's his first in his -series of raids upon the iniquitous rich. He means to see to it that -you serve ten years--less good behaviour. From the time you put up -your million-dollar bail bond he has had you watched. Of course his -task is a tremendous one. You and I know that time and time again we -have eluded the vigilance of his men; and we know that we can do it -again for a time; but that doesn't alter the situation. If you should -disappear, every hotel, every train, every steamship would be thronged -with plainclothes men. You can't get out of the United States, and -you can't get out of the State, unless--you can't, in fact, elude -Murgatroyd for any time at all, unless----" Again he stopped, and again -Leslie and her father chimed in insistently: - -"Unless----" - -"Unless you follow my directions." - -"What are they?" quickly asked the others. - -"You've got to leave your beard and your name and all your worldly -goods----" went on the Colonel, but he checked himself in time. - -"My worldly possessions being minus anyway," sighed Wilkinson, helping -the Colonel out. - -"You've got to leave, even Mrs. Peter V.," smiled Morehead. - -"Heaven forbid!" exclaimed Wilkinson with mock solemnity; then he -added: "I can leave the lady with eminent complacency." - -"And also," went on Morehead, mercilessly, "you must leave your -daughter." - -There was a sharp cry from Leslie, but Wilkinson gave no sign. He -merely sniffed hopefully, for he smelled freedom in all this. - -"Go on!" he commanded, ignoring the quivering palm that Leslie laid -upon his hand. - -"You've got to leave them all and never come back to them," continued -the Colonel; and bending closer and lowering his voice to a whisper, he -added: "Leave everything that you've got in the world, you understand?" - -Wilkinson muttered an oath under his breath, for next to liberty his -wealth was dear to him. In fact, he now arranged in his mind the -relative importance of things: first, liberty--he must have that at any -cost; second, the millions that he had stowed away; third, his daughter -Leslie. - -"Why have I got to leave them all?" he demanded, "and why never come -back at all?" - -"Because," said his counsel, "if you so much as plank down a ten-dollar -bill for a railroad ticket after you disappear, you will be suspected. -The county men, the police in other cities will be on the look-out for -a man with money; they will not search the lodging-houses. You must not -be caught. It takes nerve, but you've got to do it. You've got to say -good-bye to everything." - -There was a moment's silence; then Wilkinson answered: - -"Where could I go?" - -"Anywhere you like. Disappear. But don't buy a railroad ticket if you -can help it. Don't try to leave the country, for if you do they'll get -you. Don't do anything that a man with a roll of bills might do. Play -the part of a tramp." - -For a time they pondered the situation. The Colonel was the first to -break the ruminating silence, and said: - -"Of course your bail would be forfeited, and that would leave your -daughter penniless." - -This remark was for Leslie's benefit. Nevertheless he knew that after -Wilkinson had gone, some way could be found in which his huge fortune -might gradually be used for her. - -"I don't care at all about being penniless!" cried Leslie, springing to -her feet. "All I care for, is--but can't I go with father?" - -"That's out of the question--they'd get me in an hour if you did." -There was nothing paternal in Wilkinson's voice, for the primal -principle had him in its clutch. Leslie was hurt by this seeming -indifference to her; it was not given to her to comprehend fully that -her father was making, in actuality, a fight for his life. - -"You must understand, Leslie, that this means an absolute loss of -identity, or ten years behind the bars for your father," explained -Colonel Morehead. - -Wilkinson rose, and walking to the window glanced down at the fruit man -on the other side of the street, and then came back. - -"How long time have I, Colonel, before----" - -"There'll be no trouble about time," was the Colonel's reply. "I -can still string it on for months. Summer is coming on--the long -vacation----" - -Wilkinson rewarded him with a crafty, exultant smile. He saw in this -plan nothing save success. Firmly he believed that there was some way -after all by which, whether he was in Paris, San Francisco or some -other place, he could draw back his millions, even if it had to be -accomplished in the slow way that formerly he had drawn them from his -depositors. - -"Liberty first, then----" he said half-aloud; and turning to his -daughter, whose presence for the moment he had forgotten, he added: -"Isn't it more than bedtime, child? You must be mighty tired, little -girl. You're a mighty loyal one, anyhow." - -Leslie held out her hand to Colonel Morehead. - -"Don't worry, my girl," said the Colonel, kindly, "it's going to come -out all right. I feel it, somehow, and I know you do, too. Good-night!" - -But the Colonel's words did not banish the look of worriment on -Leslie's face; and going over to her father, now, she clung to him -insistently, pressing her flushed face against his breast, saying: - -"Father, you're not going to leave me to-night?" - -"Not for many nights," he answered, patting her head; and a moment -after, Leslie withdrew. - -For a brief ten minutes the client and his attorney waited in silence. -Suddenly, then, Morehead stepped to a door and opened it, and a man -came in. - -It cannot be said that the newcomer was wanting in self-possession, and -his bow to Morehead was one of respect. But that he stood in awe of -Wilkinson, his manner while awaiting orders gave ample evidence. - -"Sit down, Phillips," said Wilkinson. "Have a cigar?" - -Governor Beekman's secretary helped himself to a cigar, and in fact, -made himself quite at home. - -"Now then, what are we going to do with this man Beekman?" asked the -millionaire, his face flushed, his mouth hardening. "He's got to get -his--and get it right away." - -Morehead held up his hand. - -"Peter V., do you think it advisable to----. Why not let Beekman alone -until...." - -"I'll do nothing of the kind!" snapped back Wilkinson. "Do you think -I'm not going to hit him back? I don't want that kind of advice from -you, Colonel. What I do want, is for you to tell me the quickest -way...." - -The Colonel swung about and closed his eyes, puffing unconcernedly at -his cigar. - -"I think," he remarked mildly, "that you'd better leave me out of this. -Vengeance is not in my line. I'll have to leave that part to you and -Mr. Phillips here." - -"What do you say, Phillips?" demanded Wilkinson. - -"_Impeachment_," answered Phillips. - -"Can it be done?" - -"Easy as rolling off a log." - -"Good--good as far as it goes; but it don't go far enough. We want to -be as hard as we can." - -"I think that can be arranged without trouble, too." - -"How will we get him?" - -"Suppose you leave that to me. You'll back me up?" - -Wilkinson clenched his fist. - -"Go the limit, Phillips--I'll back you up. The traitor! And to think -that this man Beekman might have had anything he wanted." - -"The _Reporter_ and the _Star_ will back me, too?" - -"To the limit." - -"We'll need public opinion with us, don't forget that, Mr. Wilkinson." - -"Pshaw, I'll take care of that." - -"How long are you going to stay in Albany?" - -Wilkinson raised his hand high in the air, as one about to take an oath. - -"Until I've done up this man Beekman," was the magnate's answer to the -Governor's private secretary. - -Two days later charges of corruption against Governor Beekman had -been presented to the legislature. A petition for his impeachment had -been handed up; and a committee of three appointed to investigate the -charges and to report. What the charges were was not quite clear upon -the first news of the affair; but that they were serious seemed to be -conceded. - -Upon the evening of the very day of the appointment of the committee -of three, a woman stepped into the lobby of the Remsen in Albany and -exhibited a letter to the clerk. The letter was written upon the -private letter-head of Governor Beekman and was addressed to a woman. - -The clerk raised his eyebrows imperceptibly, and calling a boy ordered -him to take the lady to the Governor's suite. - -At the Governor's suite the woman was met by a maid, who unhesitatingly -admitted her and escorted her into the Governor's den--a small room -fitted with window-seats and couches galore. - -"Are you sure this is all right?" asked the woman, somewhat alarmed at -the effusive way in which she was made so suddenly at home. - -The maid insisted that it was; that Governor Beekman was on his way up -from New York; and that he was expected at any moment. The maid left, -locking the door behind her. - -Alone in this room the woman settled herself comfortably back to wait -for the Governor. She had not long to wait, however, for presently the -door opened and three men entered the reception-room. From where she -sat she could see them, but they could not see her; and except for -their being perhaps a bit unkempt, she noted that they were of the -ordinary type of business men. - -"I suppose this is all right," she heard one of the men saying. - -"Of course it is," said another. "We've got a search warrant from the -House, and anyway, we haven't broken in. I'd like to know how you're -going to keep a legislative committee out of any place. We've got our -rights, you know." - -The woman shrank into a corner, fearing that any moment they might find -her there. But they merely waited in the outer room, expectantly. - -"Wonder what he'll have to say for himself?" queried one. - -A second man laughed. - -"There's nothing to it," he returned, "we're on a wild goose chase. -Bribery? Nonsense! Beekman's as straight as a die." - -"Suppose," said the third, "that we wait until we find out all about -it. Suppose----" He broke off abruptly, for someone was knocking at -the door; and looking up he saw that two people had entered the room. - -When the woman in the inner room perceived who had entered, she could -not suppress an exclamation, which, fortunately, however, did not reach -the ears of Leslie and her father, who were now bowing to the three -committee-men. - -"I beg your pardon," said Wilkinson, "but can you tell me when the -Governor is likely to return? We----" he smiled awkwardly, "we were -summoned by him to meet him here at this hour." - -One of the Assemblymen, a New York man, leaned over to his neighbour, -and said: "That's Wilkinson." Whereupon, the others rose and bowed, and -answered: - -"We were told that he'd be here any minute now." And as if in -confirmation of his words, the door suddenly opened, and Governor -Beekman, with a light but hurried step, came into the room. - -"I beg your pardon," he said, when he saw who was standing before him. - -Leslie turned to him involuntarily, and half acknowledged his bow; then -remembering, she quickly turned away, and looked at her father, fixedly. - -The three men pressed forward at once, the chairman speaking. - -"Governor," he said, "you understand why we're here. You've had a copy -of the impeachment charges." - -Beekman flushed. - -"I received them in New York and came up as fast as I could," he -answered, a little brusquely. "What can I do for you?" - -"I beg your pardon, Governor Beekman, but I received this note from you -and have obeyed it. Can you see us first?" asked Wilkinson. - -The Governor took the note, which was written on his heavy, private -letter-head, and read it. It ran: - - _Dear Mr. Wilkinson_: - - Will you and your daughter, Miss Wilkinson, kindly call at my - suite in the Remsen this evening at eight o'clock. I desire to see - you at that time. - - Very truly yours, - - ELIOT BEEKMAN. - -For a moment Beekman was nonplussed and looked from the note to its -bearer. - -"I didn't write this letter," presently he said. He paled perceptibly; -his confusion, whatever it may have meant, was not lost on the three -committee-men. - -"You didn't write it," queried Wilkinson, coldly, "but isn't that your -signature?" - -"It looks like my signature," admitted the Governor, after scanning the -writing closely. - -"But I can't for the life of me think what I wanted to see you about." -And turning now to the three men, he added: "You'll excuse us, please." - -Leaving the three Assemblymen he ushered his guests into the next room. - -"Comfortable quarters, Governor," commented Wilkinson; "almost comes up -to mine at home." And switching on more lights, Peter V. strayed boldly -into the inner room. "Hello, hello, who's here?" he suddenly called out. - -The woman who had been sitting on a couch came forth. She was plainly -agitated at the sight of the two men and the woman who now stood facing -her, for Leslie, unconsciously, had pressed to her father's side. In -the background, too, were the three committee-men. - -"Governor, it's all my fault," said Wilkinson, somewhat contritely. "I -beg your pardon for intruding on your--your privacy." - -The moment was a tense one, the Governor not daring to glance at Leslie. - -"There must be some mistake," he stammered out; and then advancing -towards the woman, he demanded angrily: "How did you----" but stopped -suddenly in amazement. "Why, Miss Braine--how do you come to be here?" - -Madeline Braine drew from her bosom a crumpled note. - -"I--I don't know," she faltered, "that is, I received this note from -you and I came. I supposed it was about the--the Ilingsworth case...." - -Wilkinson threw a significant glance over his shoulder toward the three -committee-men. - -"The Ilingsworth case," he repeated scornfully, meaningly. - -"They--the maid--ushered me in here," went on the woman. - -"What maid?" demanded the Governor, puzzled. "I have no maid. And, -what's more, I didn't write this letter--it's something that I cannot -understand." - -"It's something that _we_ do not wish to understand," said Wilkinson, -suggestively. - -"I told you I would come whenever you wanted me," murmured Madeline -Braine, waving the note, in her agitation, toward the Governor, "and I -came." - -Wilkinson chuckled inwardly. In an instant he turned to his daughter -and whispered in a voice that could be heard all over the room: - -"Leslie, clearly this is no place for you. A Governor who turns his -apartments into.... Come, dear!" And he made a hurried movement to go. -But the Governor was too quick for him and blocked his path. His face -had gone white with anger; he cried out: - -"What do you mean, sir?" - -Wilkinson sneered. - -"Do you want me to say it here?" - -"You've got to say it here," returned the other. - -Wilkinson waved his hand toward Miss Braine. - -"Then please explain her presence in your apartments,--your private, -apartments, if you can!" - -"I will not!" responded Beekman, looking at everybody save Leslie. "I -will not, because I cannot. Nor will she, because neither can she." - -"A complete misunderstanding all around," laughed Wilkinson. -"Nevertheless, I prefer to take my daughter to her rooms." And again he -made a movement to go. - -"You won't take your daughter to her rooms until you give me a good -reason why you're here, and why you choose to make these remarks," said -Beekman, belligerently. - -"I'll answer the last part of your question first because it's easier. -I choose to make these remarks because you're Governor of the State of -New York, and as a citizen of the State, I have a right to object to a -woman of her reputation...." - -"A woman of my reputation, did you say?" said Madeline Braine quietly, -and so marvellously well did she succeed in keeping her anger out of -her voice that not for one moment did Wilkinson suspect the action -that was to follow. In a trice she had seized him by the throat with -the whole strength of her woman's hands and was pinning him up against -the wall. - -"Peter Wilkinson," she cried, "I'll teach you not to speak ill of a -woman!" - -But scarcely had these words fallen from her lips when she loosened her -hands and threw herself into a chair, sobbing. With merely a glance -at the woman who had assaulted him in this fashion, Wilkinson quickly -hurried to his daughter's side, who seemed on the point of fainting. It -was only a short time, however, before the woman had become calm, and -Beekman, turning to Wilkinson, demanded: - -"What is the meaning of this? So you know Miss Braine?" - -Again the worst in Wilkinson's nature asserted itself; he answered the -Governor's question with a question. - -"Do you know this woman's history, Governor Beekman?" - -The woman had gathered herself together and stood motionless with -downcast eyes, silent, inert. - -In his turn the Governor ignored the man's question and demanded: - -"Miss Braine, do you know this man?" - -The woman hesitated, while her eyes slowly wandered across the room -and rested on Leslie, standing with her hand in that of her father. A -moment more and Madeline Braine had answered firmly: - -"No, except through this Ilingsworth case." - -"The Ilingsworth case!" exclaimed Wilkinson; "always the Ilingsworth -case! Some day, Governor, the Ilingsworth case will be your undoing. -Some day----" - -Again there was an interruption. The private secretary pushed his way -into the group. He was received by the Governor, with: - -"Phillips, I'm delighted you've come. There's the biggest mix-up here -you ever saw. I don't understand it--nobody understands anything." - -He stopped short, for Phillips stood facing him with a curious -expression on his countenance, and holding out a folded letter. - -"My resignation as your private secretary, Governor Beekman." - -"Resignation!" - -"My reasons are obvious, but they are nevertheless stated in that -letter, and they will appear in the columns of the press to-morrow. It -is quite beyond me to remain upon the staff of a man who ..." Phillips' -voice quivered. He turned to the committee of three, and addressing -them, said: - -"Gentlemen, much as I dislike to follow your instructions, I have, -nevertheless, obeyed your _subpoena duces tecum_. In obedience thereto -I hand you the papers that you came here to find. I found them, not -here, but in the Governor's room at the Capitol. I think this is all -you want of me." - -The chairman of the committee took the papers in question and read -them, his associates looking over his shoulder; and when they had -finished reading them they looked at each other with an expression -on their faces, the meaning of which could easily be interpreted -without the exclamatory assurance given by one of them: "By George! -we've got the goods," highly illustrative of the situation as was that -gentleman's phraseology. - -"Well?" The Governor was speaking now. - -For answer they handed him two letters, one of which read: - - _My dear Beekman_: - - I now concede that the inducement offered in our interview of - yesterday was insufficient to justify you in acting in the - suggested manner. Let me now say, however, that the situation has - lifted itself out of the Ilingsworth case--we are fast climbing to - a higher plane. The legislature will pass our Trust Company law, - abolishing trust companies. I shall see to that. You must sign - the bill--you must see to that. There is a step beyond. We need - National legislation extending the power of National Banks--we - need good men in the Senate. Let me be clear--these are the things - we want: Wilkinson must be smashed. The first step toward that is - the pardon of Ilingsworth, for the Ilingsworth case gets us public - opinion--you can see that. Wilkinson has got to serve his term, - otherwise he is a dangerous element. Pardon Ilingsworth, refuse - to pardon Wilkinson, sign the Trust Company Bill--all this you - can do for us. We can do much for you--beyond you lies the United - States Senatorship, and beyond that, who knows.... A good New York - man is in line for many things--if he's got the backing. You will - have ours. Better burn this letter. - - Yours, etc., - - OUGHELTREE. - -The Governor read this letter silently, unmoved, and proceeded with -the other, which was not an original letter, but a carbon copy. It was -addressed to Ougheltree and was signed by Beekman. - - "_Dear Sir_," it ran, "I am in receipt of your communication - with reference to the Ilingsworth petition for pardon. I note - everything you say and have considered it carefully. I shall do my - best to decide this case upon its merits, and will advise you of - the result. - - "Very truly, - - "ELIOT BEEKMAN." - -"This letter," said the Governor, handing the letters back and -referring to the carbon copy, "is a copy of my letter to Ougheltree; -the other letter I never saw." - -"But isn't it strange," asked the chairman, "that yours is an answer to -the other. Besides, his letter is dated one day, yours the next." - -The Governor took the letters again and looked them over still more -carefully. Finally he ordered Phillips to go to his, Beekman's, -private room and fetch Ougheltree's letter of that date. - -"This is his letter of that date," returned Phillips, referring to the -one already read. - -"Ougheltree did write me a letter of that date, gentlemen," conceded -the Governor, eyeing the other sternly. Whereupon Wilkinson winked -broadly at the committee, and the chairman took notes upon a little -pad. "But this is not the letter." - -The chairman smiled. - -"It's very strange," he said, meaningly. - -The committee returned to the reception-room and took seats round the -table. - -"You understand, Governor," said the chairman, "that we are -commissioned to report on these charges. We came here partly to get -evidence, partly to get your statement. You understand that the -Ilingsworth case is the pivot on which this turns." - -"I understand that, Mr. Chairman," said the Governor. - -"Do you mind telling us just why you pardoned this man Ilingsworth?" -inquired the other. - -Leslie leaned forward, drinking in every word. Even the lingering -respect that she had for Beekman was fast leaving her. Her father -had seen to that. Beekman was already sinking beneath the surface. -Wilkinson intended that he should go down into ignominy shunned by all. - -Beekman still addressed the men of the committee, but now he looked at -Leslie. - -"Everybody knows why I pardoned Ilingsworth," he said. "Ilingsworth -didn't commit the crime." - -The chairman poised his pencil. - -"So it was a matter not susceptible of proof, wholly within your own -knowledge and the knowledge of no one else?" - -"Yes, that is true." - -"Come, Leslie," said her father, drawing her away; and turning to -Beekman he eyed him severely, and added "The price must have been big! -Too thin, Governor--that's too thin!" - -The next day the _Star_ and the _Reporter_ took up the hue and cry -against him. "Too thin" was the _Star's_ headline, while the _Reporter_ -denounced Beekman in scathing language; contended that in pardoning -such a man as Ilingsworth the Governor had deliberately let loose on -the community a murderer and an anarchist; and assured its readers that -in refusing clemency to Wilkinson the Governor had in cowardice yielded -to the popular clamour that someone should be made to suffer for the -iniquitous methods of the great financiers of the present day. - -"The present incumbent at Albany is a blot on the escutcheon of the -Empire State," the editorial concluded. "The sooner the blot is wiped -out the better." - -The next day public opinion was swinging strongly against the Governor. -And, on his own motion, Beekman was suspended from office until the -charges against him had been tried. - -The next day Ougheltree's denial was ridiculed. What is more, the -_Morning Mail_, Ougheltree's paper, did not dare to take up the cudgels -in the Governor's behalf: it could no longer defend a man who was -charged with being implicated with its chief, since to do so would be -to admit its owner's part in the conspiracy. And yet Ougheltree was as -innocent as a new-born babe of having written the incriminating letter. - -In short, Beekman was doomed. He had climbed the hill and for an -instant had stood in the glory of the sunlight, only to find himself -suddenly dashed down to the bottom at break-neck pace. - -But not even this satisfied Wilkinson. Closeted later with Flomerfelt -in the big house on the Drive he ground his heel into the rug of his -den, exclaiming: - -"Never until he wallows in the mud, Flomerfelt, will I let up on him!" - -And in all this what of Leslie? - -Irrefutable evidence had been presented to her of the Governor's -unworthiness, and little wonder, then, that she had ranged herself -upon her father's side. Nevertheless, there were times when she would -shudder in silence. For out in the future it was certain that one of -three things must happen to her father, and she dreaded any one of -them. - - - - -XX - - -"I suppose there is some painless way of putting him to death?" - -The voice was Wilkinson's. He was seated on the veranda at Cobblestone, -his Morris County place, and opposite to him sat a complacent, -side-whiskered M. D. from Morristown. The complacence of the M. D. -was due in great measure to the fact that a check reposed in his -waistcoat-pocket. It was a goodly check, too; Wilkinson had been -ailing, and the bill was heavy. - -"I don't want him to suffer at all," went on Wilkinson. "I merely want -him to pass away and not feel it." - -"Humph! He's of no further use?" returned Dr. Parker Wetherell. - -"Tigerskin is twenty years old, nearly blind, and can hardly hobble a -step. My dear Wetherell, that horse has won me no end of money on the -track! He's been worth his weight in gold! I hate to think of him as -dead." He laid a cold hand upon the doctor's. "How about chloroform? -It's safe, painless----" - -"It's painless enough," interrupted the physician, "but it's not always -sure." - -Wilkinson's hand trembled. - -"It kills men sure enough, doesn't it?" - -Wetherell shook his head. - -"Not sure enough," he answered. "They come out of it when one least -expects it." - -"Strychnine, then, or prussic acid?" suggested Wilkinson. - -Again Wetherell shook his head. - -"I wouldn't give either of them to my dearest enemy," he opined. "My -advice is, not...." He drew forth a tiny cigarette and lighted it. -"My suggestion, Mr. Wilkinson--of course I'm not a horse doctor, and -there's no charge for this--my method, rather, would be powder and -shot--the old-fashioned way...." - -"Pistol?" - -"Yes." - -"A pistol bullet through the heart?" went on Wilkinson, his hand still -resting lightly on the doctor's and his voice trembling. "Let's see, -you know I'm going to do this thing myself,--a horse's heart is in the -same place as a man's, isn't it?" He placed his hand on the right side -of his chest about even with his shoulder. - -"Good gracious, man!" piped up the doctor, growing red in the face with -laughter. "Don't you know where your heart is? Didn't you ever go to -school?" - -Wilkinson flushed. - -"Don't tread on facts, Doc," he protested. - -"Your heart is right there," explained the physician, placing the -millionaire's big paw-like hand over the right spot, and waiting until -Wilkinson could feel it throb. "You hear it beat?" he asked. "That's -where your heart is; but don't ever shoot a horse, or a man, either, -through the heart unless you want him to suffer the tortures of the -damned. He might linger hours in terrific pain. No, no, the head's the -place...." - -Wilkinson shifted his hand from his heart to his head. - -"Quickly, eh?" he continued eagerly, "and painless, too." - -The specialist replied in the affirmative. - -"Suppose, now," continued Peter V., "that we had old Tigerskin here. -Just what part of the head would I aim at? Back here?" - -"The temple," said the doctor. - -"That's back here, isn't it?" persisted his patient, forcing a laugh at -his own ignorance. "Where is it on a horse, anyhow?" - -Parker Wetherell touched his own forehead, and said: - -"Just about where it is on a man. Right here at the side of the head in -front of the ear." - -Wilkinson had withdrawn his hand and was tapping the table in front of -him nervously. - -"Doc," he insisted, "just put my finger on the spot--here on my -head--and when I get Tigerskin, why then I'll know...." - -The physician seized his patient's pudgy finger, held it for an instant -poised half an inch from the big man's head, and then jammed it into -the temple with precision. - -"There," he exclaimed, "that's just the spot!" - -"You don't say," returned Wilkinson. "I never would have thought -it--and a ball through there would do the trick?" - -"Man or beast--he'd never know what struck him." And then as Wilkinson -removed his arm, the doctor sprang forward in alarm, and added: "Why, -look, here, Mr. Wilkinson, you've smeared a lot of ink up there!" - -"Where?" - -"On your temple. Your finger must have dipped into the inkwell...." - -Wilkinson looked at his finger with a grimace, then he looked at the -surface of the table upon which was a round, wet splotch of ink. Upon -the end of his finger, which evidently had rested for an instant upon -the spot on the table, was a similar splotch; and when Wetherell had -jammed the finger into his temple, it being still moist with the dusky -fluid, it had left a small round spot on his forehead. With a hasty -movement Wilkinson drew forth his handkerchief and started it on the -way to his head. - -"Hold on!" he suddenly exclaimed. "I'll get my kerchief stained, too. -I'll go to the bathroom and wash it off, if you'll excuse me." - -Wilkinson rose, but some sudden tremour seemed to seize him. - -"Nerves a bit shaky yet, Doc," he complained. And, turning, walked -through an open window. Behind the palms his daughter Leslie was -reading a book; she had heard scraps of the conversation without, and -glanced up at him questioningly. "Trying to find out just where to -shoot old Tigerskin," he stopped to explain, "and got myself all ink." - -Leslie laughed, and he continued his way through the room and up one -flight of stairs to the bathroom. - -"A bull's-eye--a perfect bull's-eye that," he whispered to himself, -looking in the glass. Then suddenly whipping out of his hip-pocket a -revolver, he aimed for the small, black spot upon his forehead. - -Parker Wetherell, M. D., down on the veranda, having taken from his -waistcoat-pocket Leslie's check, was glancing on it with reverence; but -soon the reverie into which he had plunged was rudely interrupted: a -pistol shot rang out, followed almost instantly by a woman's scream. -Wetherell leaped to his feet. - -"He tricked me," he whispered, turning pale, "the painless method was -for himself, not for Tigerskin." - -With an answering shout he ran pell-mell up the stairs. In the bathroom -he found three people: Hawkins, Wilkinson's new valet, Leslie and -Wilkinson, the latter swaying to and fro in the grasp of the other two. -In his hand he held a smoking revolver; and as the doctor seized him, -he smiled a ghastly smile and exclaimed: - -"I missed it, Doc! Missed!... My little painless program didn't pull -through!" - -That night all Morris County, all New York, had the news, specials -having been gotten out by the various papers to that effect. - -"It's up to you, Hawkins," said the District Attorney over the wire to -Wilkinson's new valet; "we've got to have this man alive, and not dead. -You've got to be Johnny-on-the-spot every minute of the time." - -And that was precisely what was the trouble, so far as Wilkinson -was concerned. Hawkins was too much Johnny-on-the-spot to suit his -purposes. Down in his home on the Drive Jeffries had resigned from his -position, and the new man who took his place was one of Murgatroyd's -shrewdest men, which meant that Peter V. Wilkinson, under a ten-year -sentence, out on a million-dollar bail, was surrounded by a net-work -of Murgatroyd's making. Murgatroyd was seeing to it successfully that -Wilkinson couldn't run away. Wilkinson had said that one of three -things confronted him: prison, flight or suicide. The second seemed -to have been eliminated from the program of possibilities; the first -he had sworn never to endure; and as for suicide, Murgatroyd had -said it was up to Hawkins.... But there were other guards also who -interposed: Leslie watched her father as a mother watches an errant -child. Wetherell, too, sniffing more big checks, suggested other -safeguards, and called with undue regularity. Every servant in the -household and even the pudgy Mrs. Wilkinson herself--Flomerfelt had -warned her that his death now would upset all their plans--kept on the -look-out. Morristown druggists were warned to be sure to whom they sold -poisons. Express and mail packages were scrutinised with care. No end -of precaution was being exercised to thwart his plans. - -"Seems to be an awful lot of fuss about it," remarked Mrs. Peter V., as -she scanned the daily press. "If I tried suicide, I wonder...." - -"Probably not," grinned Wilkinson, feebly, "unless you succeeded in the -attempt." - -Now Murgatroyd's men were handicapped in one respect: Murgatroyd -never trained detectives to be servants; he trained servants to be -detectives. Hawkins, the valet, and Watson, Jeffries' successor, -were born to yellow plush, and had acquired the detective polish -later. Their handicap was, that they must maintain their character -as servants. They must obey, must efface themselves, must serve ... -otherwise the game was spoiled. When Wilkinson roared a command which -sent them off for half an hour, they had to go. But the intervention of -the family now helped them out: it became an unwritten rule that Peter -V. must never be left alone, save in the night-time when he slept in -an apartment stripped of everything save a bed and chair. This last -arrangement he consented to only after Wetherell had threatened him -with sanatorium confinement. - -It happened, therefore, that one day, Wilkinson, weary of this close -surveillance, remarked to Leslie: - -"Let's go back to the Drive, child. I'm sick of the still nights up -here." - -And indeed Leslie was not sorry of the opportunity to go. There was -one reason in particular for this: Cobblestone was but a quarter of a -mile away from the Ilingsworth place; and Ilingsworth's place, like -its former owner, had become a wreck. It was overgrown with weeds, was -falling gradually to pieces; upon it had been laid the heavy hand of -disuse and decay. The heavy mortgage on the place had been foreclosed; -the property laid vacant, idle; it had become an eye-sore to Leslie. -Besides, vague rumour had it that the place was haunted--lights, -even, having been seen in the rooms at night. It was none of these -things, however, that had disquieted Leslie, but the fact that one -night at dusk as she tripped along the road, a man had darted from the -road-side, and laying a detaining hand upon her arm, had said to her: - -"I wish you could help me find my daughter. I've tried to beg, borrow, -steal even, to get enough to find her, but----" he had stopped to -search her face, "but you're a Wilkinson, I see; you wouldn't help;" -and letting her go, he suddenly disappeared in the shadows. - -Naturally, the girl had been frightened. Afterwards, however, she -regretted that she had not tried to detain Ilingsworth, for he it was, -since there were mysteries about him which she could not understand. -If he had lost his daughter, why did he not use the money that he had -stowed away--the millions that her father had told her about,--and -why was the mortgage on his place foreclosed? The mortgage on her own -father's place had not been foreclosed, she was sure of that. And so -insistent became the pressure of these doubts that one night just -before they returned to town, she sent a servant over with a note to -Ilingsworth. Leslie knew him for a murderer, a forger, a perjurer, a -thief, and yet some instinct drove her to this act. - - " ... Some time," she wrote, "when we are out of our own trouble, - if there is anything that I can do--for Elinor--believe me I shall - do it--the very best I can." - -It now became known throughout the Wilkinson household -on-the-Drive--and, likewise, to the inner sanctum of District Attorney -Murgatroyd's office--that Peter V. Wilkinson contemplated a trip to -Maine. There was reason for it: the city sweltered in mid-August heat. -Peter V. had no house or shooting-box in Maine--his game being men, not -beasts,--and accordingly a suite of rooms at a hotel was engaged by -wire. Railroad tickets were purchased; trunks were packed; appointments -made with his nearest and dearest friends to meet him there for a -three-weeks' jaunt. Every essential detail was attended to; nothing was -overlooked. But there was one strange thing about it all: Leslie, who -usually accompanied him, was to be left behind; Wilkinson was going -alone with Hawkins. It was his frolic; he did not want to be hampered -by anyone. But Hawkins and the District Attorney knew that Wilkinson -would not be lonely: a chambermaid to have charge of his suite of rooms -at the hotel in Maine was despatched from the Borough of Manhattan; -two bell-boys were installed; from the instant that Wilkinson should -reach the East Side pier in New York he would be attended by a drove of -sleuths. - -But did Wilkinson have any suspicion of all this? If he did, not by -word or look did he betray as much. - -On the day of his departure, Peter V., with a matter-of-fact air, -handed to Hawkins a small, oblong, heavy, cold, metallic package, -saying: - -"Hawkins, just stick that in my suit-case." - -Alone, later, the valet opened and examined the package, and found, as -he suspected, that it contained another revolver, hammerless, sinister, -ominous. - -"Suicide in Maine!" He emitted a whistle, and added: "Not if I know it, -Mr. Wilkinson." - -He discussed at length with Murgatroyd the ease with which Wilkinson -might throw himself overboard, or might shoot or poison himself in his -stateroom. But "Hawkins, it's up to you to see that he doesn't ..." was -all the satisfaction that he received from the District Attorney. - -Their preparations completed, Hawkins now stepped into the presence of -his master, and announced: - -"Colonel Morehead, sir, to see you." - -Wilkinson descended to his Den, entered and locked the door behind him. -After fifteen minutes of desultory conversation, he held out his hand, -and said, his voice trembling: - -"Good-bye, old boy! We shall never meet in life again--good-bye!" - -Colonel Morehead stared curiously at his client. He asked no questions, -but merely took Peter's hand within his own and pressed it hard. - -"Good-bye, Peter," was all he said. - - * * * * * - -Wilkinson, watch in hand, stood at the open door. - -"Look sharp, now, with those grips," he directed. And turning to -Watson, his new footman: "Watson, time is the essence of this thing. Go -up and help Hawkins, and be quick about it, please." - -Out of the corner of his eye, Watson glanced at Wilkinson; that -gentleman was holding his gaze upon his watch. It all seemed safe.... -So Watson obeyed, running swiftly down the broad hall and swiftly up -the stairs. - -"Get a move on, Hawkins," he whispered; "he's down there all alone." - -The multi-millionaire waited until Watson was well out of sight, then -going quietly to the open door he passed through, and walking rapidly -to the corner of the street, turned and disappeared--disappeared, and -that was all that could be said about it. No, there was this to be -said: His trunks went on to Maine, and when opened there later were -found to reek with poison--anæsthetics, chiefly, that stupefied and -killed; while tucked away in one corner was a gun. Wilkinson had been -cunning: he had done things under the nose of Hawkins that Hawkins had -not surmised, much less seen. - -But Wilkinson had not quite disappeared after all! There were some -who saw him after his disappearance, though they were not members of -his household, nor were they officials in the employ of the county -or State: they were casual observers, mere pleasure-seekers down at -Brighton Beach. For later on that day a man with a bristling beard -stepped into Obermeyer's Bathing Pavilion at the Beach, stepped up to -the desk, as he had done several times before,--for Wilkinson loved -promiscuity--he was essentially of the people,--and nodding to the -clerk, passed out his wallet, his pin and other valuables, sealed them -in an envelope, writing his name quite plainly upon it, and handed it -to the man behind the desk. The recipient glanced at the name, glanced -at the man interestedly, then gave him a fifty-cent bathing-suit, -two checks on rubber strings and a key; and Wilkinson, taking these, -proceeded to his allotted booth. - -"Can I check that, too?" the clerk called after him, referring to -a brown paper parcel which Wilkinson carried under his arm. But -Wilkinson shook his head, and the incident passed out of the clerk's -mind, for the next man was becoming angrily insistent. - -Once inside his booth, Peter V. stripped to the skin and donned the -bathing-suit. So far he had followed the prescribed method of bathers -at Obermeyer's as well as every other pavilion in the universe. But -at this juncture he departed from custom: For having donned the -bathing-suit, he did not, as other men do, unlock the door and run -flat-footed to the beach; instead, he opened the brown paper bundle and -looked over its contents with considerable satisfaction. It contained a -complete suit of underwear, clothing, hat and shoes--all second-hand; -and over his Obermeyer bathing-suit he drew on these clothes, one by -one, jamming the soft, felt hat upon his head. Then folding up the -brown paper he tied it carefully with the string, and placed it in the -side-pocket of his coat, taking good care at the same time to remove -from the trousers pocket of the suit he had discarded a goodly roll of -bills. - -Now fully dressed in his new garments--leaving his own clothes behind, -he left the room, and locked the door, forgetting neither his brass -checks, nor to place the bathhouse key on the ledge above the door. - -"So far so good," he whispered to himself. - -Curiously enough, however, he did not join the crowds upon the -beach, but sought another bathing pavilion a quarter of a mile -away--Helmstaedter's--where he was not known. There he repeated the -process: went to the desk; obtained a twenty-five cent bathing-suit, -but this time he deposited no valuables, having none that were visible. -Then with his second bathing-suit he stepped into one of Helmstaedter's -dressing-rooms, and again he undressed, stripping to the skin as -before, and donning now the Helmstaedter bathing-suit, he opened the -door, closed it behind him, and took his way to the beach. - -And now, since Peter V. had gone to Brighton Beach for the ostensible -purpose of bathing, Peter V. bathed. But strangely enough, though -he had Helmstaedter's bathing-suit upon him, he did not bathe from -Helmstaedter's; on the contrary, he strode up the beach and bathed at -Obermeyer's. An expert swimmer, he was known to the life guard, who saw -him and warned him with: - -"Better look out, Mr. Wilkinson, two big men had cramps out there -yesterday. I had the time of my life bringing them in." - -"Never mind me," laughed Wilkinson, "there's no fear of my having -cramps to-day." And with that he plunged boldly into the surf. When -the life guard last saw him, Wilkinson was merely a speck far out upon -the surface of the sunlit sea. - - * * * * * - -That evening, while all New York was looking for him, while Hawkins -and Watson were being soundly rated by the District Attorney, while -Flomerfelt and Mrs. Peter V. were laying new plans, while Leslie wept -in the silence of her room, that evening one of the Obermeyer helpers -making his rounds, discovered the clothes of Peter V. Wilkinson, the -Trust Company man, in his booth. The clerk at the desk produced the -banker's wallet containing hundreds of dollars, his pin and other -valuables. But the bathing-suit, the brass checks, and Peter V. -Wilkinson were nowhere to be found. - -"Suicide," at once said the press; family and friends said "drowning -accident," and the life guard backed them up. Furthermore, -Hawkins produced the pistol and poisons taken from the trunks in -Maine--evidences of suicidal intent. These strengthened and deepened -the theory of suicide. Even Murgatroyd, after thinking it over, was -satisfied that such was the case. As for Colonel Morehead, he would -sit for hours in his office, staring at the wall, never coming to -any conclusion. "Peter's certainly got me guessing," was the way he -acknowledged his inability to solve the problem. Nor did the ocean -ever give up Peter from its capacious depths. - -Of all the men in New York County there was one, however, who had a -theory. This man was tall, slender, handsome, a man in authority. After -the county detectives had given up the search, and after the newspaper -reporters had faded from the scene, this man quietly went down to -Brighton Beach and interviewed the clerk. - -"I wonder," he asked himself, as under his gruelling cross-examination -the clerk searched the remotest confines of his memory, "I wonder what -Wilkinson had in that brown paper bundle, and what became of it. Was it -drowned, too?" - -But of all the people down at Brighton Beach, only one man _knew_ -the movements of Peter V., and that was Peter V. himself. He had -had his swim; he had gone far out, ducked and swam under water -for a distance, and finally had gone ashore near Helmstaedter's -pavilion--Helmstaedter's pavilion, where he belonged and where he was -not known. Dripping, glowing from his bath, he had entered the pavilion -with hundreds of bathers and gone at once to his booth. - -The rest was simple. Having dried himself, he once more donned the -dry, Obermeyer bathing-suit, drew on top of that his second-hand -suit of clothes, smashed his soft hat down on his head, and left -the pavilion by the street entrance. And pushing through the back -streets and alleyways which were crowded with the cheaper order of -pleasure-seekers, eating "hot-dogs," he darted into a barber-shop and -leaned back in the chair with a grunt of satisfaction. - -"Too hot for spinach, Tony," he remarked in the genial vernacular of -the day, "so shave her off." - -Tony did as he was bid; and when Wilkinson rose and glanced into Tony's -glass, he looked upon a countenance that he would never have recognised -for his own. In former days his cheeks were plump and muscular, his -chin bold, and his lips expressive. But for some years now a beard had -covered his face; his lips and chin and jowls had been unused. So that -not only was he not the Peter V. Wilkinson of the present day, but he -was not the Peter V. Wilkinson of any day: he was just a very average -man in a second-hand suit of clothes. - -"So long, Tony!" he sang out, and soon he was lost in the crowd. - - - - -XXI - - -Wandering aimlessly through Madison Square Park one evening ex-Governor -Beekman suddenly felt someone tugging at his arm, and swinging round -quickly to shake himself from the other's grasp, yet glancing down to -see what sort of a person had accosted him, he saw that it was a woman, -that she looked pale and weary, that her clothes were very shabby, -and that she seemed to be in sad straits. Instantly he was conscious -of a feeling of pity for her, at the same time he was angry with -himself, angry with the fates that prevented him from doing what he had -repeatedly done under similar circumstances in times past. For Beekman, -always a tender, kind-hearted fellow, had never been one to look down -upon less fortunate beings, and rarely lost an opportunity whereby he -might do a kindness to some poor unfortunate. - -"What do you want of me?" he asked, not unkindly. - -"I--I've been looking for you," said the woman. "I----" - -The man pulled himself up quickly. Here was someone who knew him, and -of late he had been shunning the sight of his acquaintances. Again he -shot a sharp glance at the woman: the intruder was Madeline Braine. The -moment that he recognised her, Beekman was aware of a spasm of pain; -too well she brought back to his memory the things he was trying to -forget; nevertheless, he said with a pleasant smile: - -"Why, of course, you're Miss Braine. I know you now. How stupid of -me.... But what do you want of me?" - -The woman did not immediately answer. She stood by him silent, -motionless, looking vaguely into space. After a while she said -falteringly: - -"I--I don't know what I wish with you. Really I--misery----" - -" ... loves company," he finished for her under his breath while -reflecting: "How can one man be responsible for so much?" for it had -been borne in upon him that the woman, like himself, was a social -outcast with the hand of Wilkinson heavy on her, still pressing her -down though he was no more. - -The woman seemed to have read his thoughts, for she broke in upon them -with: - -"Oh, you didn't know Peter V. Wilkinson as I did! I've felt his force, -sir, indeed I have.... But we won't talk about my story.... Won't you -tell me yours, for I know----" She stopped abruptly and looked up at -him, a strange, pathetic look in her eyes. And whether it was her rare -beauty that appealed to him, or that she was so intensely human toward -one who had been thrust into the gutter, at any rate she seemed like a -bit of heaven opening up to him. - -Therefore it was not long before he was pouring out into her ears all -his sufferings at the hands of Wilkinson, and already he was beginning -to like her because of the sorrow they had in common. - -"Tell me," he said to her, "how can a man like that set my friends -against me--hound me out of my clubs." - -"I read about you and the Barristers'. You were treasurer--they claimed -your books were crooked. I knew----" - -"My bookkeeper must have been one of Wilkinson's men. Of course I made -it good. But that was nothing compared with the charge itself--enough -to damn any man! I had investments, mortgages, but how he succeeded in -tying up those properties in a night, destroy the neighbourhood, cut -their value in two, is what dazes me. The power of the man is beyond -me--I can't understand it." - -"I can understand it all," she answered, "only you've injured him more -than I ever did." - -"There is Judge Gilchrist, for instance," he went on, "what hasn't -he done to him? The man's reputation is gone, and as for mine...." -He held his head very high. "They may have robbed me of my money, my -clients may have been forced to leave me, but there's one thing they -can't do to me--they can't take my profession from me. The Judges -know--they believe...." - -"But Wilkinson could have you disbarred if he were alive, you must know -that," she insisted hopelessly. - -"Never!" he answered defiantly. "He can't fool the courts. And some day -I'm going to climb back ... even if I have to crawl there on my hands -and knees." - -"I'd like to help you win your place back in the world," she spoke up, -remembering his kindness to her, then she stopped, her face flushing -with the sudden realisation which was forcing itself upon her, that who -was she to stand beside any man in his fight against the world, she, a -creature rejected by everyone, penniless, with a fight of her own on -her hands? - -"I shouldn't have said this," she went on by way of explanation. "I'm -rather a weak ally to"--she paused to push back a stray lock that the -wind insisted upon blowing in her face, but in reality it was to brush -away the tears that clung to her eyelids. Beekman saw this, and his -heart went out to her, for he knew that hard as was his lot, hers must -be infinitely harder. - -"It wouldn't have been so," presently she continued. "But there was no -one to care for me--no one to care what became of me. I was a silly, -vain creature like thousands of others...." - -For some time the conversation held to this strain. At last the girl -put out her hand and said with a faint little smile on her lips: - -"Governor Beekman--for I must still call you so--it looks like a case -of down and out for both of us. If you'll give me your address, I'll -give you mine. One can never tell, you know...." - -"That's very true," he answered sadly, and proceeded to scribble his -name and address on a leaf of his note book, tore out the leaf and -passed it over to her; then scribbling her address, as she repeated -it, upon another leaf, he added with genuine sincerity: "If I can ever -be of service to you, Miss Braine, don't hesitate to call upon me." He -took the hand which she gave him, and once more their ways parted. - -The next morning Beekman's superior--Beekman had obtained a job -with the Title Company, after he had been frozen out of his law -practice--called him into the inside office. - -"I'm sorry to tell you," he began, "it's not personal with me at all, -but the company have given me orders to ask you to resign...." - -"I knew they would," said Beekman, pocketing his salary. "I expect to -spend the rest of my natural life in resignation. I've resigned from -six positions now, and am being kicked out of the seventh. I bear no -malice to anybody except the man above.... If he's alive, I hope to get -him one of these days; if he isn't," he smiled genially, "why, he's -getting his reward right now." - -The hounding of Beekman had become an easy matter. Once driven out of -independent business and shunned by people of his kind, he was forced -to apply for salaried positions. After that the story was always the -same, except that each time he kept asking lower and lower wages, -getting them until he was turned off. And he was always turned off--no -longer was his resignation requested. - -" ... we can't have a thief in our employ," was the customary -remark. Some imputed to him hideous morals; others charged him with -drunkenness, but always with the same result. - -In the beginning he had thought of leaving town and going West; but the -Beekman grit was in him and it declined to capitulate. - -"I'll fight it out here, alone," he had told himself a thousand times, -"here, where I belong--where she is. I'll fight--I'll never run -away...." - -The temptation to escape he had put behind him long ago, but there -were other things that assailed him. He had the name of everything -that was disreputable, he knew that. Even the newspapers from time -to time referred to him as being connected with fracases that never -had occurred, or if they had, had happened in his absence. Day after -day, night after night he walked the streets with shame clinging to -him. To-day he held his position, but never knowing when the merciless -hounds of the Wilkinson system would corrupt his employers and turn him -out. He grew shabby, shabbier, and all too swiftly, too. But he was -glad of one thing: his pride had never left him; he kept himself neat -and clean. He felt, though, that these were things that would slip from -him as he slumped down into the army of the unknown. Many times he had -to combat the temptation to take to drink, to drugs, to the comfortable -vices of the vagabond. - -"I've got the name," he told himself, "the name,"--and unquestionably -Leslie believed it--for would not he have believed these things of his -dearest friends had the evidence been the same as it was in his own -case?--"And that's where Wilkinson was strong--he always had proofs.... -Yes. I've got the name, why not the game?" he would reason, as he kept -slipping down, down, down. - -But through it all the same instinct kept him straight. "I'll stick it -out alone," he kept saying over and over again. Leslie had told him -once that he was a man of destiny, and he still felt it. As long as -there was life there was hope. Help must come to him in some form some -day, and when he faced her, he must face her clean. Never once did he -blame her for his plight. He saw too well and clearly that she, too, -was the victim of the Wilkinson system, and all the more so because -she was Wilkinson's daughter. In Beekman's mind the truth was slowly -forcing itself that Leslie's plight was worse than his, for she was -unconsciously the innocent instrument of vengeance. - -"I've got to stay decent for her sake," he kept repeating to himself. -But as time went on, one horrible temptation kept pressing, closing in -upon him. - -Night after night he haunted the more isolated East Side piers. Night -after night he glanced down into the smooth, dark waters flowing -silently past him, with a glance that held within it some deep -meaning. Night after night as his body became lean and gaunt, as the -lines deepened in his young face, as his pockets emptied themselves, -magically, so it seemed, as he stared starvation in the face, the -waters seemed to beckon to him, and death seemed, somehow, pleasanter -than life. - -The time had come when he knew, when he was assured past all mistake, -that he was at his rope's end. - -"I'm down at the bottom of the pit and there's no way up," he whispered -to himself, and held out his arms for an instant toward the waters. -"There's no way out but you, you," he went on, his purpose clinging -desperately to him. He stopped and drew back from the edge and crouched -against the stringpiece. For across the pier something had arrested -his attention. A shadow deeper than the night, and part and parcel of -the night itself, was creeping toward the edge. This shadow was the -only moving thing that Beekman had ever seen upon this lonely pier. His -nerves became suddenly alert, for now he saw that this shadow was a -human being--a woman bent upon a woman's desperate purpose. He watched -the shadow spellbound. - -Suddenly the woman lifted her hands high above her head, and with the -wail of a hunted animal, cast herself off the stringpiece and into the -river underneath. - -In the twinkling of an eye he had jerked off his coat and shoes and -thrown himself into the stream. He caught her as she came up, but -she clutched him and struggled, not to save herself, but to cast him -off. Like a maniac she fought and the two went down together, Beekman -gurgling in distress. By some superhuman effort he conquered her -underneath the water, and coming up, held her, limp and inert with one -hand, while he swam slowly, for his strength, owing to starvation, was -fast ebbing. Somehow he managed to climb up the rough sides of the -pier, bundling her up ahead of him, and laid her down, unconscious, -on the stringpiece, where she lay for some time. When she had revived, -however, the mania once more possessed her. - -"Leave me alone, please leave me alone!" she cried, her strength -returning. "You've no right to interfere--no right to touch me...." - -Beekman held her tight until her paroxysm ceased, and once more she lay -inert in his arms. Finally she opened her eyes and looked about her. - -"You're going to come along with me," he told her gently, forcing her -on; but she tried to tear herself loose again. After a little while he -succeeded in getting her to the street, but there, with some strength -more powerful than his, she suddenly jerked herself from him and held -him at arm's length, though he still held his grip upon her wrists. - -"Let me go! Let me go, I say! I'm tired--tired of men--tired of men -like you!" she wailed. "I want to go home--I want to go back to my -father--back to my father...." - -And still he held on to her, held on until he got her underneath the -street lamps, where he looked into her face. She was worn and haggard, -but her dark, lustrous eyes were something to remember. "She must have -been very beautiful," he thought, and wondered. - -"Look at me!" he said in a voice that startled her into consciousness; -"you've got to trust me! I'm going to take you home----" - -"My home?" she cried feebly. - -"Yes. Where is your home?" - -The girl made no answer, but commenced to weep. At length, she said: - -"If I had a home, do you suppose I would have attempted what you have -just prevented me from doing? Home? Let me go, please let me go!" and -again she fell to sobbing. - -"Then I'll take you to my own home," he said; and added to himself: -"I'm good for one more day there at any rate." - -"No, no, no!" she cried, trying to break away from him. "I want my -father, just father--Oh, father...." - -"Don't fight against me. I'm going to help you to find your home, your -father. Come, trust me!" - -And the girl, too weak to resist him any longer, allowed herself to be -led away by him. - - * * * * * - -In a cheap hotel on this same East Side a man sat among other men -of his own type, drinking with apparent gusto a huge glass of beer. -Between sips he smoked a pipe. His clothes were soiled, stained with -tobacco, they reeked with the odour of the place. He had just finished -telling a story to an English sailor, who slapped his thigh and howled -in glee. - -"That's a good 'un, matey!" cried the sailor. "But I arn't got one to -match it, stow the luck!" - -The storyteller's last chuckles had subsided and he had drained his -glass to the dregs, when suddenly a man entered the place and thrust -himself into the group that sat around the table. This newcomer was of -a different class from the others. He was tall, square, handsome, and -his air and clothes and manner betokened one of the better classes. -The genial storyteller set down his glass, grinned once more at the -English sailor, and then following the sailor's glance, looked up at -the stranger. He found the stranger was glancing down at him with an -intentness that was disconcerting, to say the least. - -The stranger slowly extended his hand toward the group, his forefinger -levelling itself in the direction of the genial storyteller. - -"I want to talk to you," he said. - -The man at whom he pointed faltered for an instant. His first instinct -was to give the signal and get his cronies to bear down upon this -stranger and throw him to the ground. - -The stranger--who was no other than Leech, an Assistant District -Attorney of the County of New York, who had become famous chiefly -as the lawyer who had sent Peter V. Wilkinson up for a ten-years' -term--saw the look, interpreted it correctly, but he only laughed in -the man's face. - -"There are three of my men outside," he whispered, bending down, and -then straightened up once more. "Where can we talk?" he asked. - -The other man lumbered to his feet and bowed awkwardly, saying: - -"Excuse me, gents." - -At the foot of the stairs that opened near the street, Leech held the -other in conversation for an instant--just long enough to permit three -men without to see his man. None of the three knew who he was, but all -knew that they should know him at any future time. - -The next instant the two had passed upstairs, where the man had a room. - -"Well, Wilkinson," said Leech, once they were behind closed doors, and -passing over a fifty-cent cigar, "you turned it pretty neat, but you -didn't fool me." - -"I see I didn't," returned Wilkinson, limply. - -"You were going to stay here until you could make a get away, I -suppose," went on Leech. "You did it cleverly, but," he shook his head, -"there was a man cleverer than you in little old New York--that's me." - -"You're an intruder," retorted Wilkinson, leaning over toward the -other. "I was just getting used to the life here--liked it, in fact." - -"It's the butcher blood coming out in you," conceded Leech. "Reversion -to a type. I suppose this is really where a man like you belongs." - -"Who else knows about me?" asked Wilkinson, coolly enough. - -Leech screwed up an eye. - -"Did you think I was fool enough to give you away?" He paused a moment -to watch the effect of his words upon the other, then he went on: -"Nobody followed you up--nobody knows but myself. Listen, Wilkinson, -and I'll tell you how you did it." - -And Leech proceeded to detail Wilkinson's escape and the method of it -in such correct and graphic terms that Wilkinson's eyes bulged wide -with terror. - -"How did you know?" gasped Wilkinson. - -Leech crooked his forefinger. - -"Because," he declared, "there's nothing new under the sun. The thing -you did was done by a bank cashier in California ten years ago, and one -of the few people who knew about it was myself. It's not down in the -books. You thought it was new; I knew...." - -They smoked in silence for a while, Wilkinson all the time staring at -the other. Finally he spoke. - -"Well, the jig is up, so far as you and I are concerned, and the -question now is, what do you want of me?" - -Leech hesitated a moment, before answering: - -"I want a cool million to let you go." - -Wilkinson grunted. - -"When you told me you were the only man who knew, I figured out that -was your game. But what about these chaps downstairs?" - -"They're not county men," assured Leech, "and they don't know a thing -about it." - -"A million dollars," mused Wilkinson. "Where would I get it?" - -Leech blew smoke rings toward the ceiling. - -"I refuse to discuss that part of it," he answered, "only it's a -million now. Later on it may be two, you know." - -The banker knitted his brows. - -"And what do you do for that million?" he said. - -"Keep my hands off and my mouth shut, that's all." - -"How long a time will you give me to think it over?" - -"How long do you want?" - -"Three days." - -Leech shook his head. - -"It will be three millions by that time; besides, this thing has cost -me money. I've got to keep these chaps on the job, you know." - -Wilkinson rose, and said: - -"Give me until eight o'clock to-morrow morning. You'll find me here." - -Leech thought a moment, and then shaking his finger at the millionaire, -he said: - -"Don't you try to get away, Wilkinson, because...." - -"That part of it is all right," growled the other. "By the way, -won't you stay and have a schooner of beer? No? Well, eight to-morrow -morning, then." - -Leech left, Wilkinson looking after him wistfully as he went out. - -"Clean-cut proposition, that Leech," he reflected to himself. - -There was a tap on the door. And to Wilkinson's "Come in," Leech -reappeared. - -"I merely wanted to send my regards to Miss Leslie," he said, "in case -you call her up." - -"I won't call anybody up," growled Wilkinson. "My people don't know -anything about me other than that I'm dead." - -Nor did Wilkinson call anybody up. He merely stopped drinking beer, -went downstairs and got a handful of black cigars, and then returning -to his room smoked all through the long night, that is, until two -o'clock in the morning. At that hour he heard a church bell chime and -started for the window. In the moonlight the dingy backyard seemed -peaceful and deserted. He took off his shoes and stole out upon the -fire-escape; and climbing carefully down rung after rung until at -last he stood on _terra firma_, he then started for a secret alleyway -which, as he had ascertained, had been used in frequent evasions of the -police. But no sooner had he started toward it than a hand was laid -upon his arm; and turning, he found himself face to face with one of -Leech's plain-clothesmen. - -"Taking the air?" queried the man, pleasantly, deepening his hold on -the arm of Wilkinson. - -"No," said Wilkinson, looking about the squalid backyard, "but I saw -somebody moving around down here--must have been you--and mistook him -for a burglar. Thought I'd scare him off." - -"He didn't scare," said the sleuth, drily. "Shall we--er--return?" - -They returned, the detective lounging, wide-eyed and comfortable, upon -the fire-escape above, while Wilkinson drew off his clothes and slept -like a log for the remainder of the night. At eight o'clock in the -morning he was up and dressed; and at eight o'clock Leech appeared. But -no sooner was he in the room than Wilkinson drew on his slouched hat -and seized Leech by the arm, saying: - -"Come on, I'm ready." - -"Where are you going?" cried Leech, in alarm. - -Wilkinson grinned. - -"I'm going to give myself up to Murgatroyd," he said. - -Leech winced. It was a blow between the eyes and he felt it. - -"The devil you are!" he cried. "But why?" - -"Because," said Wilkinson, slowly, "I know chaps like you. A man who -can be bought for a million, can't be bought for ten million, that's -what I mean." - -"Explain yourself," stammered Leech. - -"When you get the million you'll come back for more. You'll never lose -sight of me--eh?" Wilkinson's grin widened as he saw the telltale flush -upon the cheek of the man before him. "You'd come back for more and -more. That I wouldn't mind, but in the end when I refused you'd call my -bluff--you'd kill the goose that was laying the golden egg. You'd give -me up one year, two years hence--you know you would." - -Leech was silent; he was floored. - -"Besides," went on Wilkinson, calmly, "there would always be the danger -of my discovery by Murgatroyd. The sword of Damocles would forever be -over my head. I'll make an end of it; I'll give myself up...." - -"Just as you say, Wilkinson," returned Leech, feeling all the while -that the other was bluffing. "I'll take you down to Murgatroyd's -myself," he went on, now bluffing, too. "By George, that's just what -I will do! Hereafter it will be said that Wilkinson may have been too -smart for Murgatroyd, but that there was one man he couldn't fool; and -that was Assistant District Attorney Leech. That ought to get me the -chief's job next November. Come on! I've got a taxi-cab--my men will -follow in another." - -Wilkinson climbed into the cab. At the second corner he called out to -the driver: "Turn west!" Leech leaned back smiling at this new turn, -and let Wilkinson do his own ordering. - -"I want to get out here for a minute, Leech," he said, presently -stopping the cab before a white marble building. "Come in with me.... I -want to telephone to someone I know." - -The two men, each occupied with his own thoughts, stalked up the -steps of the Millionaires' Club. At the entrance they were stopped, -and Wilkinson was rudely thrust aside. Leech got a cold and distant -obeisance from the doorman, who nevertheless politely asked: - -"Beg your pardon, sir, did you desire to see any member of the club?" - -Wilkinson came forward and roared out: - -"Confound you, I'm a member of the club--I'm Peter V. Wilkinson!" - -The doorman laughed in his face, and again bowing to Leech, asked if -the other was with him. - -"Why, Bowles," roared Wilkinson, "I know you like a book. I'm Peter V. -Wilkinson, I tell you." - -Bowles started at the voice. He recognised it as Wilkinson's, but the -man before him bore no resemblance to the Wilkinson that he knew, and -he refused to believe him. And in the end, Wilkinson and Leech were -forced, to their discomfiture, to retire. - -"Hang it!" muttered Wilkinson. "He ought to know me if anybody does. He -doesn't know me, and yet you did. How do you account for that?" - -"I was looking for a bigger tip," laughed Leech. - -At the next corner they stopped and Wilkinson entered a public -telephone booth, closed the glass door behind him and then called -up the Barristers' Club. Presently the man he called for was at the -other end, was answering "Hello." Wilkinson smiled, for the voice held -excitement in it. - -"Peter!" yelled Morehead in delight. - -"Yes, and I'm coming to the Barristers'." - -"In broad daylight?" - -"Yes, right now. I want to talk to you and talk to you hard. I've read -all the New York papers and know all that's going on.... And say, look -here, you'd better tell your people there to be on the look-out for a -tramp and a con man, for they'll never let us in unless you do." - -"Who's the con man?" queried the Colonel, not fully recovered from the -shock that Wilkinson had given him. - -Whereupon Wilkinson without reply rang off. - -Fifteen minutes later Colonel Morehead threw open his bedroom door in -the Barristers' Club and threw his arms about his disreputable-looking -client. - -"Peter, the sight of you is good for sore eyes!" he cried. - -Colonel Morehead stiffened for an instant at the sight of the other -man, and bowing gravely merely said: - -"How do you do, sir?" - -"Colonel," began Wilkinson, as he threw himself into a chair and -stretched his legs wide apart. "I'll come to the point at once." The -Colonel was all attention. "I note by the papers that you are keeping -the legislature a devil of a long time selecting a new man to replace -Beekman. You will naturally want to know," Wilkinson went on, "why we -call upon you in such haste this morning." He waved his hand toward -Leech. "Allow me to introduce you to Mr. Leech, at present an assistant -district attorney of this county, and the next Governor of the State of -New York." - -Morehead stared at Wilkinson as one hypnotised. - -"Why?" he demanded, at length. - -Wilkinson did not answer at once, but drew him into the adjoining room -where he related, among other things, the happenings of the last two -days. At the conclusion, he remarked: - -"A man who asks for a million-dollar bribe is our man, isn't he, -Morehead? But there is one thing more I want to say: Don't you forget -it that I figured out this thing myself." - - - - -XXII - - -Some few weeks after his visit to Colonel Morehead at the Barristers' -Club, Peter V. Wilkinson presented himself at the Riverside Drive -house. He had waited until he had grown a stubbly beard once more -before introducing himself to his family, and then one morning, -feeling very much as he looked, he had come in straggling, half-dazed, -tired, bedraggled, a sad object to behold, but in spite of all he was -received, like the proverbial prodigal, with open arms. - -Then followed days of explanation and secret conferences. His family -physician had diagnosed his case as one of loss of memory; Murgatroyd -had thrown up his hat in glee; the county force at once became active; -the newspapers chattered in cold type like magpies; and what is more, -the final stay obtained by Colonel Morehead was drawing to a close. - -But all the time that Murgatroyd felt that he had at last landed -Wilkinson, Leech kept his own counsel, and secretly he was very happy. -For did he not hold within his grasp the governorship, wealth, and in -his arms, almost, the daughter of Peter V. Wilkinson? - -They were sitting in Leslie's room at the top of the house one -morning, Wilkinson and his daughter. The father was puffing away at -a big black cigar, and looking very much out-of-place in the dainty -apartment with its poppy-covered walls and chintz furnishings, the girl -wearing a far more cheerful look than had been on her face for many -moons, was luxuriating in a silken-covered chair. - -"It's coming out all right, isn't it, father? How many nights have I -prayed that you would get away--even if I never saw you again. And now -it's coming out all right." She smiled a sad little smile; presently -she added: "You've got a man that the National Banks can't buy...." - -Her tone was the least bit cautious and reserved--as one who withholds -judgment. This did not escape Wilkinson. But he pressed his point. - -"You're sure you want Leech?" he asked. "I don't want to force you, but -he's a loyal friend of ours. He's run the National conspiracy to earth, -is brave enough to face fire for me--he's a true friend, girlie." - -Leslie's eyes glowed. She caught her father about the neck, and hiding -her face against his shoulder, she whispered: - -"Of course I want him, father. I--I would not have anybody else...." - -"I'm glad of that," answered her father, nodding. "He's head over heels -in love with you, dear--and he seems, somehow, to make it a condition -of----" - -"Father," she interrupted, "I knew long, long ago that he admired me. I -could tell--why, I'm so glad, so glad...." - -Nevertheless the girl was very tired, was keyed up to the highest -pitch. Her father had but three short weeks of respite, Morehead could -do no more, and the legislature was ready to appoint its man in the -place that Morehead with some desperate instinct had held vacant for -so long. It was still a race, a running fight with Leslie, and she -revelled in the fight. It was all a part of a desperate game, with her -father for the stakes; and she played it with all her might and main. - -"You will grant a pardon to my father?" she had implored of Leech, -struggling feebly in his warm embrace. - -"Yes," he had answered, drawing her still closer; and Leslie had -submitted, persuading herself into the belief that this man was the one -man for her. - -"You promise?" - -"I promise." - -Ten days later he resigned his office as Assistant District Attorney of -New York; and two weeks later he was lifted into the high place by the -legislature. One day after he took his oath of office the petition for -the pardon of Peter V. Wilkinson was handed to him; and faithful to -his promise, he signed it on the spot. - -For what did it matter to him or to Wilkinson, either, that there was a -storm of protest--the storm of protest coming chiefly from the office -of Murgatroyd? What did it matter to Leech that his name henceforth -would be upon the black list at the Criminal Courts Building? He had -made good and had won his reward--or almost. At any rate, for one -thing, he was Governor.... - -The _Morning Mail_ made but a feeble protest, for the _Star_ and the -_Reporter_ had become bitter and exultant adversaries and gave harder -than they took. - -To Leslie the whole thing was a triumph. - -"And yet it's a funny thing," she thought to herself, "that Eliot -Beekman, who defended father, wouldn't pardon him, and here is Newton -Leech, who persecuted him, now lets him go." - -It was in the Den a few days later that Leslie found upon the leather -lounging seat two fat volumes of the printed case of her father's -trial. She picked them up listlessly and started in to read them. But -she had not gotten very far when voices forced themselves upon her ear. -One was Leech's--he had come down from Albany. For some unaccountable -reason she did not want to see him just at this time. There was a -wedding day to be set--he had pressed her on this subject --and she -was not ready to set it. She slipped temporarily behind the thick -curtains that hung suspended by the wall, just as Leech and her father -stepped into the Den. - -Leech's attitude toward the head of the family, as time went on, had -been growing more and more insolent; and to-day he was worse than ever. - -"Mr. Wilkinson," he said, "I've done my part and I've been well roasted -for it." - -"That's immaterial to me," gurgled Wilkinson, who had become a -different man. The lines had faded from his face, he was rounding out -once more, he slept nights and ate with regularity, within him all was -peace and happiness. The shadow of the prison had slipped from him -like a noose--he was free. He looked at the other tantalisingly for a -moment, and then asked: "Well, what do you want ...?" - -"Just what you promised me," said Governor Leech, "for setting you -free. I want my million dollars, to begin with." - -"Come now," grumbled Wilkinson, lighting a cigar, "you've got the -governorship--that's enough for any man, my boy." - -"It's not enough for me," insisted Leech, alarmed. "I want two things -right away--two things you promised me: A million dollars and your -daughter Leslie; and the sooner she can marry me, the better." - -Wilkinson laughed until he was red in the face, then he said: - -"Look here, Leech, I'll compromise with you. You take half a -million...." - -"Not in a hundred years!" exclaimed Leech, threateningly. - -Wilkinson continued to chuckle. - -" ... a half million," he repeated, "and I'll let the old lady, my -wife, get a divorce, and you can have her. But Leslie...." - -Leech gripped the table with both hands. - -"Wilkinson," he said firmly, "the girl will marry me, never fear! -She likes me, loves me, and she's promised to be my wife. But you've -promised to cough up a million to me, and I want it." - -"What if I don't?" growled the other. - -"If you don't," cried Leech, "I'll let the whole world know that you've -got a hundred million or so salted away in your daughter Leslie's name, -and then you'll have a hornet's nest about your head." - -"Never thought of that," returned Wilkinson, paling slightly. "By -the way," he mused, "after Leslie marries you I'll have to find some -other dummy to hold those stocks and bonds for me, otherwise, you'll -get your hooks on them." He laughed. "Cleverest scheme in the world, -boy--Flomerfelt and I concocted it. Why, look here, I've been joking, -nothing else. I'm not going to give you a million." - -"You're not!" cried Leech, growing white. - -"No!" roared Wilkinson. "Hang it all, I'm going to give you two...." - -"That's better," assented Leech, sinking back into his seat. "But when?" - -"Leslie's got to sign." - -"Can you close this to-day?" - -"As soon as I can get her. Come on--she's probably upstairs." - -Wilkinson and Leech left the room, and Leslie, her face flushed with -the knowledge of what she had heard, crept from the room and through -the hall back to the postern stair. There, in an empty room she -crouched down until she heard them coming down again, then made a dash -for her boudoir and locked herself in. After a while a servant rapped -on her door and informed her that he had been looking all over for her. - -"Who wants me?" she inquired. - -"Your father, Miss, and Mr. Leech," he told her. - -"Tell my father to come up," said Leslie. - -Presently her father, with a document in his hand, entered the room, -and smilingly announced: - -"Just wanted you to sign this, girlie." - -Leslie glanced at it cursorily, saw that it was what she believed it to -be--a means of payment to Leech, and signing, passed it over without -looking at her father. He stood for an instant at the door. - -"Newton has come up to see you," he said. "The Governor is getting kind -of lonely up in Albany--he can hardly wait to get a Mrs. Governor up -there." - -Leslie drew her hand across her face. - -"Please tell Mr. Leech," she answered, "that I'm ill. I can't possibly -see him to-day--no," she persisted, "don't ask me--not to-day." She -pushed her father playfully from the room and once more locked the -door. Then she went back to the window and read the printed case of -the People _versus_ Peter V. Wilkinson until the shadows deepened into -darkness. - -"It's all so clear now," she sighed. "How could they have acquitted -him? How could Eliot Beekman have pardoned him, even if he had wanted -to? Oh, he's guilty, guilty, guilty!" - -Completely exhausted, Leslie laid down the volume and threw herself -upon the bed, where she lay until the early morning sunlight peered in -through the windows. Throughout the long night she had not closed her -eyes, but lay there thinking, planning, some way out of it all. The -morning found her resolved upon one point: She would never marry the -man her father wanted her to marry. - -And so it happened that some weeks later Governor Leech, looking -down upon her, his face suddenly gone pale, his breath coming short, -protested: - -"But, Leslie, you can't mean it. Don't you know that I've held you in -my arms, that my kisses are on your lips! Those made you mine. You've -promised, your eyes have answered mine, you belong to me just as much -as though--by heaven! if you don't belong to me for any other reason, -you belong to me because I've earned you! Look what I did for your -father--what I did for you!" - -"You've been paid enough," she answered stubbornly. "I've paid you out -of the money in my hands. Oh, don't stare! I know--I know...." She -paused a moment, her face flushing, her breath coming fast. "Governor -Leech," she resumed, "while my father was in danger I could think of -nothing but to save him; but now that strain, that terrific strain is -over, and I have come to my senses. I can't even think of you, much -less marry you with this taint on you. Yes, I broke my promise to you, -it is true, but I had to, don't you see?" She lifted her head proudly, -and then added: "I had to for the reason that I am just beginning to -find out that I'm a woman, and that you, Governor--you are not--a man." - -The following evening while Leslie waited in a small waiting-room near -the entrance to the house a man was ushered in--a man with grey hair -and bowed shoulders, a man enveloped in a long cloak--for the mist -was heavy and the night was wet without. Leaping to her feet, Leslie -grasped him by the hand, and said: - -"It was good of you to come, Mr. Ilingsworth, and you've found him, I -can see by your eyes. Oh, how can I thank you enough! I was to help -you, and here you're helping me." - -"I'm helping him," said Giles Ilingsworth, steadily, but kindly. He -straightened up, and went on: "I haven't seen him, but I've located -him--I know the floor he lives on. He--he's always in evenings. They -say he has a job with some labourers on the new subway." - -"Come!" she cried, seizing his arm. - -"Wait," he said, "why don't you send for him?" - -Leslie shook her head. - -"He would never come. I've got to go to him to-night. I can't wait -another minute--not another minute." - -In the open doorway while she drew her cloak tight about her, they -stood and peered out into the Drive. - -"We'll get a cab," she said, taking his arm; but Ilingsworth was -adamant. - -"There's one thing that I forgot to tell you," he went on, -hesitatingly. "I--it's only what they tell me down there--they say -Beekman does not live alone. I thought you ought to know...." - -Leslie flushed for an instant and drew back, and then pressed on again. - -"I know," she said, "that is, I suppose--but never mind that. I've -wronged this man and I won't let another day pass over my head without -trying to right the wrong--if it ever can be righted." She tightened -her grasp on the man's arm. "How can a wrong like that ever be -righted?" she asked. - -But Ilingsworth himself knew something about wrongs, and muttered -half-aloud as he glanced at the darkened heavens: - -"Are my wrongs ever to be righted?" - - - - -XXIII - - -Before one of a long row of dilapidated tenement houses away over on -the East Side of the city, the cabman halted. Leslie had ordered him -to drive like the wind, promising double fare; and consequently he had -covered the ground in a ridiculously short period of time. - -To the girl, familiar only with the better localities of the city, -the squalor of the place was appalling. It all looked so dark and -mysterious that she hesitated for a time before consenting to go in; -but at last, overcoming her repugnance, she brought herself to the -point where she could make the ascent of the narrow stairway which led -to Beekman's room, and she began to climb the stairs, clutching at -Ilingsworth as they went. - -"They said he was always at home," repeated Ilingsworth, knocking -gently at the door. - -A moment more and the door was suddenly thrust open, flooding the hall -with light, and a woman, wearing a hat and a long coat, stood in the -doorway. It was Madeline Braine. - -For a second that lapsed into another, the women stood staring at each -other, but did not speak. - -"I was just going home," finally announced Miss Braine. "I----" - -"It isn't true, then, you don't live here?" faltered Ilingsworth, -blurting out things in his excitement that should have been left unsaid. - -"Were you looking for me?" asked the woman. "I live at...." - -"For Mr. Beekman," interrupted Leslie, in a low voice. "Can we find him -here?" - -Madeline Braine pressed her hand against her lips. - -"He's asleep," she whispered. "They're both asleep." - -"Both!" The exclamation fell from Leslie's lips. - -"Who else is there here?" proceeded Ilingsworth, without formality. - -"Nellie, the girl that lives here," she told him in lowered tones. "He -takes care of her. She's been sick--he's had to stay up nights and work -all day, and it's a pity to wake him up...." - -"He hasn't retired yet, then?" asked Leslie, inanely, for want of -something better to say. - -But whatever would have been the woman's reply it did not reach her -lips, for just at that moment there was a stir, an exclamation from the -corner of the room, and a man rising to his full height--a man, tall, -strong, bronzed, clad in workman's clothes, cried out sharply: - -"Who's voice was that? I thought I heard a voice...." - -The woman waved the two out in the hall, and answered: - -"No, she hasn't stirred." - -Beekman stretched his arms, and replied, lowering his voice: - -"I don't mean Nell. I mean her voice--Leslie's. Who's out there, Miss -Braine?" - -Madeline motioned to Ilingsworth and Leslie to come in, but at the very -moment they entered a young voice rose from the next room, and cried in -all its weakness: - -"Madeline! Eliot! Oh, Eliot...." - -"We've awakened her," said Madeline Braine, contritely, hurrying toward -the inner door. But Giles Ilingsworth interrupted her flight and caught -her as in a grip of iron. - -"Just wait a moment, if you please," he said. - -Again the voice raised itself in supplication. - -"Madeline! Eliot...." - -"You recognised a voice," said Ilingsworth to Beekman, "but I recognise -a voice, too." He caught up the lamp and started for the next room, but -Beekman was before him standing at the threshold. - -"That's a bedroom," he explained. - -"Let go of me, Beekman!" cried the old man. "I know what I'm about!" -And with a steady step he marched on into the next room. - -All of a sudden a loud cry, a woman's cry of sudden joy, reached their -ears. Madeline hastened in. The next instant, while Leslie and Beekman -stood facing one another, they heard a muffled groan and Ilingsworth -came out again. Holding up the light to Beekman's eyes, he looked into -them sternly. - -"My daughter," he said, "she's a living wreck, almost." - -"You should have seen her when she first came here, Mr. Ilingsworth," -answered Beekman, returning the other's gaze with interest. - -"You saved my life, Beekman," went on Giles Ilingsworth, his voice -trembling; "but for how much of this are you responsible?" - -Madeline Braine pressed to his side and said: - -"Let me answer that. Governor Beekman did more than save your life, he -saved hers--saved her from drowning, nursed her, fed her, lodged her, -he has brought her back to life--back to you." - -But Giles Ilingsworth was not satisfied. - -"Let him answer," he persisted. - -"There is nothing more to tell. Upon my honour, there is not," spoke up -Beekman. - -In sudden relief, then, Giles Ilingsworth started for the room; and -Leslie, pressing close to him, asked if she might see the girl. - -"She needed someone to take care of her, and she found Eliot," she -sighed a moment later as she stood in the shadow and saw Elinor lying -propped up against white pillows, her eyes very large and lustrous, a -faint smile on her lips. And then she softly left the room. - -Within, Ilingsworth sat on the edge of the bed and babbled like a -child, happiness suffusing his countenance; a little while longer and -his voice became firm once more, had the ring of conviction in it, -weakness had dropped from him as a mantle. - -"I'm happy, oh, so happy, Elinor!" he cried. - -There were no questions on his lips for her to answer; she knew there -never would be. Nothing mattered to her nor to him now save that they -were together and were happy in each other's love. - -Madeline knelt suddenly on the other side of the couch. - -"Mr. Ilingsworth," she whispered in a choking voice, "there's something -that I've got to tell you, something that's been driving me almost mad, -for a long time." Her face grew white and her eyes widened as she met -the old man's gaze. "It was I," she confessed, "I shot Mr. Pallister." - -In a bound Ilingsworth was on his feet, his eyes fixed upon hers. - -"You!" he exclaimed. "You ...!" - -"Don't--don't let them hear!" she moaned, hiding her face in her hands. -"I'm weak--I've always been weak, and if it hadn't been for me none of -this would have happened." - -"It was Wilkinson," cried Ilingsworth, clenching his hands, "Wilkinson -is at the bottom of it all!" - -The woman grasped at his sympathetic tone. - -"Yes, yes," she answered; and turning to Elinor: "I was like you, -dear--I had nobody to take care of me." - -"But," he protested, "it was my gun...." - -"Yes. That day when you talked to his daughter I was there--behind the -hangings. You laid the gun behind you on a table, dropped it there -behind a book." - -Ilingsworth placed his hand against his forehead and thought a moment. - -"So I did. It all comes back to me now," he returned. "I forgot -even that at my trial. I have never been able to account for its -disappearance." - -"I picked it up and kept it here," said the woman, placing her hand -upon her bosom. "Some instinct made me do it. I was going to break -with Wilkinson--I had made up my mind never to see him again, and I -didn't know but that I would need it to threaten him, so I kept it." -Her eyes grew dark with anger. "Afterwards he treated me cruelly, told -something, well, something that has ruined my life. I was in the crowd -that day, and,--well, you know the rest. Don't--don't tell anybody," -she pleaded. "They'd kill me, kill me before I had a chance to redeem -myself. I don't want to die--I can't die. I did my best for you, Mr. -Ilingsworth,--after I had done my worst," she ended in a sob. - -Ilingsworth crossed to her side and looked down upon her kindly. - -"My dear child, it was you that saved me. We all know what would have -happened if the Governor had never seen you. I don't want to tell -anybody, and I'm sure Elinor doesn't, either; nor am I sure that I am -under obligations to tell anybody. I bought the gun to kill; you killed -in a fit of anger. We're in precisely the same position, aren't we? We -had murder in our souls and this man Wilkinson put it there." - -"I want you to know," she went on falteringly, "that all the lies I've -told, all the things I've done, all the weakness that's in me; he's -responsible for them all. There was never anybody in my life but Peter -Wilkinson." - -There was a long silence. Giles Ilingsworth was the first to break it. - -"Miss Braine, I've been trying to figure out some way so that we can -all take care of each other. We all seem to need looking after. Perhaps -my courage and strength will come back now that my own little girl has -been returned to me. I've got to make a home for her, you see--there'll -be a place there for you, too, always, if you'll come." - -Madeline had not expected so much kindness, and the tears began to roll -down her cheeks. - -"May we come in?" asked a voice at the door. - -And Leslie Wilkinson, a new light in her face--a light that was worth -while, for she had solved a weighty problem in the last half-hour--once -more entered, Beekman following close at her heels. - -"There are some things I wish to say to ex-Governor Beekman in the -presence of you all--some things that you don't know, though I've heard -some of you charge my father with them," she went on, her face paling. -"I learned the truth myself less than a month ago, Eliot," now turning -to him, "that somewhere and somehow there are standing in my name -securities amounting to a hundred million dollars. I know it's so--I -can testify to it--they don't belong to me." - -"They belong to Wilkinson," broke in Ilingsworth. "I've known it all -along, but I've never been able to prove it." - -"They don't belong to my father," went on Leslie, her eyes meeting -Beekman's in triumph, "but to the depositors in my father's trust -companies." - -Beekman looked at the girl in amazement, Ilingsworth muttered something -to himself and was about to speak, but Leslie interrupted him. - -"One word more, Mr. Ilingsworth, if you please," she said. And again -turning to Beekman, she went on: "Eliot, you know that I have money -in my own right--money to do with as I wish. Therefore, I retain you -now, not on my own behalf, but on behalf of half a million depositors -in three States, to start a fight to get that money back. We'll begin -right now," she concluded, her voice ringing with determination, "with -Giles Ilingsworth. You are retained by him...." - -The fire leaped into Beekman's eyes; he sniffed with excitement. - -"Half a million depositors!" he cried, hope growing in his voice. "That -means half a million clients. I'm still a counsellor-at-law--the good -old Appellate Division withstood all attempts to disbar me. Half a -million clients--yes, I accept." - -"What about the evidence?" queried Ilingsworth. - -Beekman held up his hand. - -"The Bank Le Boeuf of Buffalo--they charged these things. They must -have evidence...." - -"I can furnish some," said Ilingsworth. - -"I have overheard Peter Wilkinson," faltered Madeline Braine. - -"And so have I," cried Leslie; "and besides, everything is in my -name, and I won't sign another paper or pay out another dollar until -everybody has had his rights." - -Leaving Ilingsworth with his two charges joyfully planning their -future, Eliot and Leslie returned to the next room. - -"We've got a long fight ahead, Leslie--a running fight, as Colonel -Morehead calls it, but I'm ready. Come, we begin to-night--we cannot -start too soon." - -"You remind me of that night," Leslie whispered, "that night when -you brought the ring." He seemed scarcely to hear her, the room was -reeling about him. But the girl, knowing that she must do the wooing -if she were to win him back at all, went over to him, and, laying an -affectionate hand upon his shoulder as she looked up into his eyes, she -said very tenderly now: - -"Eliot, if we're going to fight, don't you think we'll fight better -if we fight together? I wouldn't dare to ask you this if I didn't see -the hunger in your eyes for me just as the hunger is in my heart for -you. And Eliot," she went on, nestling closer all the while, "won't you -marry me to-night--won't you say you will?" - -This sudden rush of happiness was too much for Beekman, and he could -hardly speak. For answer he drew his arm round her waist and pressed -her close to him, their lips meeting in one long kiss, as they had that -night so long ago, when she had promised herself to him. - -A little while later, Beekman drew his shabby coat about him, but -Leslie saw nothing but the man underneath it. His shoulders that had -been drooping under the burden of adversity, when she entered the room, -now squared themselves; his mouth was firm, and his eyes sparkled as -side by side they passed out into the darkness. - - * * * * * - -"What do you want of me?" Wilkinson was saying as he glanced first at -Flomerfelt and then at his wife. They had bearded him in his Den a -little while before, broken in upon his reverie, and instinctively he -felt that their presence there augured no good to him. - -It was Flomerfelt who answered: - -"Thirds, Wilkinson. One-third for me and one for Mrs. Wilkinson." - -"By what right do you demand it?" asked Peter V., lolling back in his -chair. "And you?" he added, looking at his wife. - -"I'll tell everything----" began Mrs. Peter V. But Flomerfelt -interposed with: - -"She's your wife, Wilkinson." And lowering his voice, he continued: -"Your property is personalty, stocks and bonds. In case of your death -she would be entitled to a third. She merely asks her right." - -"In case of my death," mused Wilkinson. "But I'm not going to die--not -yet," he added, a moment later. - -Flomerfelt's brows contracted, his eyes narrowed, he looked Wilkinson -full in the face. - -"How do you know you're not?" he asked. - -"Is that a threat?" asked Wilkinson, rising. - -Flomerfelt, who hoped in the long run to wind up in Paris with -two-thirds of Peter's hidden fortune, for he expected that Mrs. Peter -V., with her third, in time would join him there, was glad to note that -at his suggestion of death the woman had regarded him once more with -fear. She had believed him responsible for the death of Roy Pallister, -and he had fostered this belief, had held her within the circle of -conspiracy, had held her as one chargeable, too, with death of the boy. -It was a safe venture, for not once had he by word of mouth connected -himself with that tragedy. Indeed, he had not the slightest idea as to -who was responsible for it, but all through he felt that Mrs. Peter -V., believing him responsible, felt herself mixed up, felt, too, -perhaps, that they had gone too far. And, watching her out of the tail -of his eye, he held his glance impudently upon Wilkinson's face. - -[Illustration: "We've got a long fight ahead, Leslie--a running fight, -as Colonel Morehead calls it, but I'm ready"] - -"Not a threat, but a surmise," he answered in the same even tone. -"People have sought your life before, you know," he went on, his face -breaking out into a disagreeable smile, "and even you have attempted -suicide. If you should die, what would become of her?" - -"When I die will be time enough to talk about it," snarled Wilkinson. -And thrusting his face now into that of the other, he demanded: "Come, -what's the game? Lay your cards down on the table--out into the open. -Why do you want a third ...?" - -"Chiefly because I've earned it." - -"Earned it! I took you out of the gutter, you ingrate!" - -Flomerfelt shrugged his shoulders. - -"If I haven't earned it so far, then I shall earn it in the future," he -said. - -"How?" - -"By keeping silent in the presence of one person." - -"Who?" - -Flomerfelt smiled, but did not answer. - -"Leslie Wilkinson, of course," put in Mrs. Peter V. - -"I don't understand," muttered Wilkinson, once more puffing on his -cigar. "Why silent in her presence? What's that to me?" - -"It isn't necessary to go over the facts," returned Flomerfelt. "To be -brief, you've got a mint of money in her hands, which she knows nothing -about. You know where it is, the missus knows, and I know. Some chaps -in Vienna know, thirds for us, or tell her ...?" - -Peter laughed aloud. - -"Tell her if you want to," he roared. "But do you suppose she'd give -the game away? She! Why, she's the only trump I ever had about me! -She'll stick through thick and thin! Tell her and be hanged!" - -Flomerfelt held up his hands, saying: - -"I must say that you don't know your own daughter." - -"You're a fool, Peter!" said his wife, sharply. - -"The instant the girl knows, it's all up with you, my friend," went -on Flomerfelt. "But she needs managing, watching. It takes more than -you to manage, to watch her, too. What is it--thirds for us, or tell -her...." - -Peter turned his back upon them. - -"Tell her and be hanged!" he said. - -Flomerfelt's eyes sought those of the lady. "What's the next move?" -hers seemed to ask of him. A smile of cunning crossed his face. - -"Then, Peter, we'll tell the public," he ventured. - -Peter swung about, crying: - -"Ah, why didn't you get down to that in the first place! I can -understand that--I've understood it all along--you were bound to hold -me up. I'm used to that--have had it all my life. Now, look here, -Flomerfelt, I'm through with you--through with both of you. But I'm -willing to be fair. I bought Leech with a million dollars, as you know. -And I'll do the same with you--with her. You can take it or leave it, -just as you please." - -"It's not enough," spoke up Flomerfelt. - -"I should think not," said the lady. - -Peter V. took out his watch and said: - -"I'll give you just one minute to accept." - -Flomerfelt took out his watch, and answered: - -"I'll give you two minutes to divide with us." - -At the end of a minute they were glaring into each other's faces like -beasts of prey. Wilkinson held up his hand and repeated: - -"You can take it or leave it, just as you please." - -"Thirds or nothing," answered the other stubbornly, at which reply -Wilkinson thrust his watch into his pocket and strolled toward the -door, where he waited until Flomerfelt raised his hand; and in that -brief moment it was borne in upon him that he was not the Wilkinson of -old, that he had, somehow, lost his grip. - -"You decline?" asked Flomerfelt. "All right! Then to-morrow the whole -story goes to Leslie Wilkinson." - -"What whole story, Mr. Flomerfelt?" asked a young woman, now entering -the room, and so pleasantly that for a moment Flomerfelt fell back -aghast. - -"What story, Mr. Flomerfelt?" she repeated. But again he did not -answer. And her father, taking his courage in both hands, came forward -and said: - -"The time has come, girlie, when you've got to make a choice for -life--you've got to tell me where you stand--on my side or theirs." - -Leslie slowly retreated to the door; a man entered and stood beside her. - -"I've made my choice, father. This is Eliot Beekman, my husband," she -announced bravely, a smile on her lips. - -Wilkinson could not believe his ears. For a moment he did not speak, -but looked helplessly from one to the other; and Leslie, waiting -for the words that did not come, saw her step-mother grow pale, saw -Flomerfelt's fingers stealthily grope into the depths of his sleeves, -draw down his cuffs, and heave a sigh as he watched the latter settle -into place. - -"Yes, father, I've made my choice," she repeated, placing her hand in -Beekman's. - -It was indeed an odd-looking pair that Wilkinson looked upon: the -girl all smiles and gladness, happy in the love that she had at last -won; the man, a scarecrow, almost, his ragged coat revealing a ragged -flannel shirt and clothes worn thread-bare. He frowned. For an instant -he seemed vengeance personified. - -"You----" faltered her father. - -"Mr. Wilkinson," cried Beekman, advancing to that individual, "I've -come back to strip you naked as the day you were born, and I'm going to -do it, too." - -"You'll have a good time doing it," Wilkinson answered with bravado, -although a growing fear was upon him. - -"I expect to, I assure you," returned the other, "for I represent -the depositors in your rotten banks. Once they sought your life, Mr. -Wilkinson,"--for even he didn't know the truth,--"and now they're after -money--the money that belongs to them and not to you. I've started in -to get it, I've come to get possession of it, to find out where it is." - -"You'll have a good time doing it," was all that Peter V. could find, -apparently, to say. - -"All I want to know is the name of the safe deposit vault where you -keep your securities. I'll be content with that, Mr. Wilkinson." - -"What securities?" Wilkinson paled. - -"All of them--everything," answered Beekman. - -Wilkinson started, glared at Leslie, then he sank into a chair, for he -saw that she knew and had judged him, condemned him. - -"You see, what you got for your pains," Wilkinson said presently to -Flomerfelt, sneeringly. - -Flomerfelt nodded; but as the two men stared at each other, they -registered a silent pact; Flomerfelt agreed with Wilkinson, and -Wilkinson agreed with Flomerfelt, that there should be a truce. - -This Beekman was a common enemy, and there must be no disclosures now: -to give the game away would be to rob them both of everything. - -"You may as well answer, Mr. Wilkinson," continued Beekman, "for I'm -determined on cleaning you up from top to toe. I'm your enemy and I -shall make it my business to represent every other enemy you have. I've -begun with Ilingsworth. I'm going to clear his name, put him where he -belongs; I'm going to clear up mysteries and let daylight into the -hidden places,--every mystery from the giving of your million-dollar -bail bond to the secret of your pardon. Nothing shall escape me, I'll -even ferret out the mystery of the death of Pallister, for," and his -finger pointed straight toward Wilkinson, "for all I know you're at the -bottom of that thing yourself." - -"Fidelity Deposit vaults," came gasping from the throat of Mrs. -Peter V. from the other side of the room; and holding out her hands -pleadingly toward Beekman, she added: - -"I had nothing, nothing whatever, to do with the murder of Roy. I am -innocent, I can prove my innocence. I'll tell all I know. The Fidelity -Deposit vaults--that's where...." She sank cowering into a chair. - -Flomerfelt realised now that he had made an egregious blunder in his -method of the past: this wholesome fear that he had instilled in her -had been his own undoing, a boomerang. But he was not yet through; he -saw another loophole open for him. - -"Peter," he cried, "come to my terms and I'll help you to fight. If you -don't----" - -Beekman stood by with folded arms. He had come there in a sort of -frenzy, to give vent to his pent-up sense of injury. He had regretted -his coming, it is true, the instant he stepped inside of the room. Yet -it was this same frenzy, this determined air of his, this sweeping into -the open and offering fight, they had really done the trick, struck -terror to the hearts of all three. - -And now he actually smiled. Flomerfelt's game suddenly became clear, -and Beekman knew that they were playing right into his hands. So he -waited in silence. - -"Wilkinson," cried Flomerfelt, with quick, incisive tones, like dagger -thrusts they were, "which shall it be?" - -"Neither!" exclaimed Wilkinson, his clenched hand crashing down -upon the table, and then going over to his son-in-law, he laid his -chubby hand upon his shoulder and said: "Eliot, my boy, you've got me -beat--but I'm going to surrender, and--" he leered at Flomerfelt and -Mrs. Peter V.; then added: "and not be given up." - -A moment later Flomerfelt started softly for the door, followed by Mrs. -Peter V. But Beekman barred the way. - -"Hold on there!" he cried. "Peter V. Wilkinson possibly is immune from -further criminal prosecution, but I don't know about you two. But -whatever part you've had in the conspiracy you may be sure that I'll -find out. There's no escape for you." - - - - - * * * * * * - - - - -Transcriber's note: - - Obvious typographical and punctuation errors have been corrected. - - Blank pages opposite illustrations have been removed. - - - -***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE RUNNING FIGHT*** - - -******* This file should be named 61840-8.txt or 61840-8.zip ******* - - -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: -http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/6/1/8/4/61840 - - -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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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 <a -href="http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. 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.</p> -<p>Title: The Running Fight</p> -<p>Author: William Hamilton Osborne</p> -<p>Release Date: April 15, 2020 [eBook #61840]</p> -<p>Language: English</p> -<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p> -<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE RUNNING FIGHT***</p> -<p> </p> -<h4 class="pgx" title="credit">E-text prepared by Val Wooff<br /> - and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br /> - (<a href="http://www.pgdp.net">http://www.pgdp.net</a>)<br /> - from page images generously made available by<br /> - Internet Archive<br /> - (<a href="https://archive.org">https://archive.org</a>)</h4> -<p> </p> -<table border="0" style="background-color: #ccccff;margin: 0 auto;" cellpadding="10"> - <tr> - <td valign="top"> - Note: - </td> - <td> - Images of the original pages are available through - Internet Archive. See - <a href="https://archive.org/details/runningfight00osboiala"> - https://archive.org/details/runningfight00osboiala</a> - </td> - </tr> -</table> -<p> </p> -<hr class="pgx" /> -<p> </p> -<p> </p> -<p> </p> -<p> </p> - - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="500" height="773" alt="Cover" /> -</div> - -<div class="chapter"> -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 409px;"> -<img src="images/frontis.jpg" width="409" height="625" alt="" /> -<div class="caption">"Just a stroke of the pen, dear, and my father will be -free" (<a href="#Page_279">page 279</a>) -</div></div></div> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h1>THE<br /> -RUNNING FIGHT</h1> - -<p class="center"><br />BY<br /> -WILLIAM HAMILTON OSBORNE<br /></p> - -<p class="center"><i><br />Author of "The Red Mouse"</i></p> - -<p class="center"><br /><span class="smcap">With Illustrations by<br /> -Harrison Fisher and <br /> -George Brehm</span></p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 162px;"> -<img src="images/colophon.jpg" width="162" height="155" alt="Colophon" /> -</div> - - -<p class="center"><br />NEW YORK<br /> -DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY<br /> -1910</p> -</div> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p class="center"><br />Copyright, 1910, by -WILLIAM HAMILTON OSBORNE</p> - -<p class="center"><i>Published April, 1910</i></p><br /> -</div> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p class="center"><br /><i>TO</i><br /> -W. H. O., Jr. <i>and</i> F. S. O.</p> -</div> - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2>ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> -</div> - -<div class="center"> -<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> -<tr> - <td align="left">"Just a stroke of the pen, dear, and my <br /> - <span class="i3">father will be free" (page 279)</span> </td> - <td align="right"><i>Frontispiece</i></td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td colspan="2" align="right"><span class="small">FACING PAGE</span></td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td align="left">It was a mere wisp of a girl who confronted him</td> - <td align="right">14</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td align="left">If only he had dared ... he would have drawn<br /> - <span class="i3">the dainty head of Leslie Wilkinson down on</span> - <span class="i3">his shoulder and would have kissed her then</span> - <span class="i3">and there</span></td><td align="right">76</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td align="left">"We've got a long fight ahead, Leslie—a running<br /> - <span class="i3">fight, as Colonel Morehead calls it, but I'm</span> - <span class="i3">ready"</span></td> - <td align="right">370</td> -</tr> -</table></div> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span> -<h2><a name="I" id="I"></a>I</h2> -</div> - -<p>Once, twice, thrice,—failing miserably in his attempt to appear -unconcerned,—Ilingsworth paced back and forth in front of Peter V. -Wilkinson's big house in Riverside Drive. There it stood: a massive, -forbidding, modern pile of limestone, wholly unlike anything in its -vicinity. And yet, now that the time had come, Ilingsworth's face wore -a confused, half-fearful look, a sense of uncertainty possessed him, -which was all the more maddening because so far, at least, there had -been no obstacles or delays in this brief, turbulent journey of his; on -the contrary, all had gone well with him, and like a falcon in pursuit -of its prey he had sped on the straightest of straight lines towards a -person of the name of Leslie Wilkinson, and this person, so Ilingsworth -assured himself, would soon feel his claws.</p> - -<p>From a distance, it is true, Wilkinson's imposing structure had -differed little from that which his imagination had led him to expect. -It was like the pictures he had seen of it many times in the papers; -so like, in fact, that even now in his extremity he could feel the -strange, exultant pride he had experienced but a few short months ago -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span> -when exhibiting to Elinor a counterfeit presentment of it in a monthly -magazine. And, certainly, he had every right to be proud, at least, so -he thought then,—for was not he, Elinor's father, Giles Ilingsworth of -Morristown, a close business associate of Peter V. Wilkinson, the great -financier? His business associate! Ugh! The very thought of it now made -him shiver, tortured him. Indeed, to such an extent that, on nearing -the place, his vengeful purpose was kindled anew, and his right hand -took a fresh grip on an object of sinister shape hidden in his pocket. -At that moment Ilingsworth had but one idea: to get it over with as -soon as possible.</p> - -<p>But once actually in front of the Wilkinson mansion, when his eyes -sweeping upward had failed to catch the point of view of the press -photographers, a feeling akin to panic had come over him; and he had -passed and repassed, unable to force himself to the point of making -an inquiry of a passerby. And yet, what could he do to make certain? -And then, as if in answer to his half-smothered cries of "Is this -Wilkinson's? There must be no mistake ..." there fell on his ears the -raucous squeal of a megaphone, and, turning whence came the sound, -he beheld a crowded tourists' sight-seeing car rolling slowly and -laboriously along the Drive, its interlocutor busily engaged in the -practice of his genteel profession.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span></p> - -<p>"We now perceive the palatial residence of Peter V. Wilkinson, the -multi-millionaire—the ten-million-dollar steal trust—so-called from -the habit of its owner in stealing trust companies."</p> - -<p>This exceptionally brilliant play upon words was instantly rewarded by -a titter from some of the occupants of the car, and the perpetrator, -encouraged, proceeded:</p> - -<p>"This house contains no less than eighty-four rooms; has twenty-four -bathrooms, not to speak of the Turkish bath; has paintings worth a -million or two; the rugs cost half a million, at least; and nearly a -million pounds of bronze has been used in its construction. Wilkinson's -second wife—Maggie Lane, when he married her, now Mrs. Margaret Lane -Wilkinson,—is said to be the handsomest woman in the block." He paused -to heighten the effect of what was to follow; then trumpeted: "That -is, on this end of the block. Peter V. Wilkinson owns seventeen trust -companies in the City of New York. He is president of the famous, and -now notorious, Interstate Trust Company which closed its doors last -week. Also president of the Tri-State Trust—the largest trust company -in the world, now toppling on the brink of the precipice...."</p> - -<p>So the voice droned on, the car laboured on, and the passengers, -already sufficiently gorged with Wilkinson's affairs, would have been -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span> -spared any further enlightenment had not the eye of this dispenser -of metropolitan information lighted upon Ilingsworth as the latter, -trying to escape attention, stepped into the low-arched doorway of the -Wilkinson home. The opportunity was too good to be lost.</p> - -<p>"The gentleman," proceeded the privileged lecturer, "now entering -this impressive imperial mansion, is not Peter V. Wilkinson. Note -the sinister expression of the back of his head and the peculiar -attitude of his right arm!" The megaphone turned itself directly upon -Ilingsworth, and kept on: "He looks like a disgruntled depositor of the -Interstate Trust Company—what if he be making a call for the purpose -of putting a pill into the proprietor? What?"</p> - -<p>Ilingsworth turned an involuntary, startled glance toward the car. -Despite a desperate effort at self-control, he was visibly alarmed, -and jerked his hand swiftly from the confines of his pocket. Amidst a -chorus of laughter at his action the car rolled on. Ilingsworth turned -back to the entrance of the house, muttering to himself:</p> - -<p>"They little know, they little know...."</p> - -<p>Presently he pulled himself together and pressed the button with that -same right hand, then squared his shoulders, once more dropping both -hands at his side. There was a short interval of waiting, during which -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span> -he kept repeating to himself, as though conning some essential lesson:</p> - -<p>"Leslie Wilkinson—Leslie Wilkinson, that's the man I want to see."</p> - -<p>Suddenly a heavy door was swung open inward and a butler stood before -him, bowing.</p> - -<p>"Leslie Wilkinson," demanded Ilingsworth somewhat explosively. There -was no prefix to the name—Ilingsworth was not considering the -conventionalities. He had come fresh from the confidential reports of -Wall Street detectives. Those two words had seared themselves into his -brain.</p> - -<p>The butler looked surprised, shocked, that is, so far as his rigid -training would permit.</p> - -<p>"Leslie Wilkinson," he repeated doubtfully, as though already -hypnotised into the other's trend of thought.</p> - -<p>"Leslie Wilkinson," said Ilingsworth, "and right away."</p> - -<p>The servant bowed.</p> - -<p>"Who shall I say, sir?"</p> - -<p>Ilingsworth smiled. It was all too easy, so it seemed. He felt as -though the fates were with him, as though before him lay the path -to victory. His breath came short and fast as he thought of the -possibilities: for if he should succeed, Elinor forever would be -safe—could take her rightful place in society.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span></p> - -<p>"There's my card," he said, drawing forth his wallet.</p> - -<p>Instantly the butler became obsequious, for not only did he perceive -that the visitor bore himself as a gentleman, but he recognised the -card as an open-sesame to his master. He handled it with infinite -respect. It read:</p> - -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Mr. Giles Illingsworth</span></p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i1"><i>Vice-President of the</i><br /></span> -<span class="i1"><i>Tri-State Trust Company</i>,<br /></span> -<span class="i3"><i>New York.</i></span> -</div></div> - -<p>"Your pardon, sir," said the butler before he closed the door, and -With a nod of the head towards the street. "Your car—does it need -attention, sir? Our garage is only half a block away. Shall I send out -and tell your chauffeur, sir?"</p> - -<p>Ilingsworth's glance followed that of the butler's. A blue limousine -stood throbbing at the curb. It had evidently been there all the while, -though Ilingsworth had failed to observe it.</p> - -<p>"It's not my car," he returned brusquely.</p> - -<p>Again a puzzled look came over the servant's face, but concealing his -embarrassment, he closed the door.</p> - -<p>"Very good, sir," he said. "Kindly step this way."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span></p> - -<p>Ilingsworth followed him down the long hall to the entrance of a room -before which stood another servant.</p> - -<p>"Step into the reception-room, sir, if you please," said the butler. -But, to the astonishment of both men, the footman advanced and waved -them back, saying:</p> - -<p>"One moment, please, sir." And oblivious to the fact that Ilingsworth -was standing in the middle of the broad hall, he drew the butler to one -side, whispered in a confidential, off-duty aside: "You must not take -him in there. Put him somewhere else."</p> - -<p>"Why not?" asked the butler. "Who's in there?"</p> - -<p>The footman became inexcusably mysterious. He looked about him on all -sides to see that he was unheard. Then he shaded his mouth with his -hand and placed his lips close to the other's ear.</p> - -<p>"Her," he whispered.</p> - -<p>The butler eyed the footman sharply.</p> - -<p>"Her!" he exclaimed. "Who's she?"</p> - -<p>"There's only one her," he answered, and pursed his lips as though -about to perpetrate an explosion. And then it came: "Miss Braine, of -course. Here's her card."</p> - -<p>The man who had admitted Giles Ilingsworth stiffened when he looked -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> -upon this card, which read:</p> - -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Miss Madeline Braine</span></p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i1">The Llandegraff<br /></span> -<span class="i1">——th Street and<br /></span> -<span class="i1">the Drive.</span> -</div></div> - -<p>"Not the governor's ...?"</p> - -<p>"The same."</p> - -<p>"What's she doing here?"</p> - -<p>For answer the footman merely shrugged his shoulders.</p> - -<p>"When did she come?" asked the butler.</p> - -<p>"Ten minutes or so ago."</p> - -<p>"But I didn't see her come."</p> - -<p>"I let her in; you were downstairs."</p> - -<p>The butler came as near to a whistle as any butler on duty ever came. -What is more, in his agitation at this new and unexpected crisis, he -quite forgot the presence of Giles Ilingsworth, vice-president of the -largest trust company in the world.</p> - -<p>"There'll be the devil to pay if the missus sees her! Did she ask -for——"</p> - -<p>"She came to see the governor," interrupted the footman, shaking his -head; "and what's more, she says she's going to wait until he comes."</p> - -<p>The butler knitted his brows.</p> - -<p>"You were a fool to let her in! Is that her car outside?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Don't you know it when you see it?"</p> - -<p>The mention of the car forced the butler's thoughts back to -Ilingsworth. He started toward the financier of the Tri-State Company -with abundant apology upon his lips.</p> - -<p>"I beg your pardon, sir ..." he began, and then stopped. For as he -passed the door of the reception-room he was able to peer into it, and -by some servant's trick to sweep every corner of it with his glance. It -was a room void of hangings, almost bare in its rich simplicity—one of -those triumphs of interior decoration. The butler's face was pale as he -retraced his steps and once more faced his fellow-servant.</p> - -<p>"There's not a soul in there—see for yourself."</p> - -<p>The other did see for himself, and he, too, looked bewildered.</p> - -<p>"But I put her in there, and I put her there to stay. I didn't leave -her for more than half a second. Where's she gone?"</p> - -<p>Instantly the butler took charge of the situation, and in commanding -sotto voce directed the other to look in the library, the music-room, -the Louis XIV. room, even in the grand salon.</p> - -<p>The search was conducted quietly and with decorum, and it is only due -to these two past-masters of the art of footmanship to say that this -dialogue had taken an almost infinitesimal space of time, that its -utterance had been practically inaudible, and that Ilingsworth, the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> -guest to whom these two had owed a very present duty, had not yet -begun to realise that his interests were in any wise neglected.</p> - -<p>But the footman came back disgruntled, disturbed, and wailing that she -was not to be found. And then it was that the butler stepped once more -to the side of Giles Ilingsworth and said somewhat contritely:</p> - -<p>"Beg your pardon, sir, but would you mind stepping into 'the Den,'" all -the while showing the way. "It's Mr. Wilkinson's favourite place, his -private room, sir, for seeing all his friends—business and otherwise, -sir—yes, sir."</p> - -<p>Ilingsworth followed where the butler led. And then, turning sharply -upon him, he repeated:</p> - -<p>"I'm waiting to see Leslie Wilkinson. Do you understand?"</p> - -<p>"Very good, sir."</p> - -<p>Alone in "the Den" Ilingsworth smiled as he looked about him. Fate -was surely favouring him. The Den was a quasi-business office and -smoking-room, a room where anybody might be interviewed by anybody -of the household. It was in this room that Tiffany's man displayed -his biggest, newest jewels to Mrs. Peter V.; it was in this room that -Mrs. Peter V.'s women friends would drop in evenings for a chat with -Peter V. as he smoked a black cigar; it was the comfortable place of -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> -the whole, big house. But to Ilingsworth it was something more: it -was the place best fitted for the arena of events as events had shaped -themselves. "The Den" had but one window—a high window that ran along -one side of the wall just underneath the black-beamed ceiling and -just above a long, comfortable, leather seat that ran along the wall. -The window was above the head of an ordinary man, and was composed of -leaded glass. It gave but little light, and afforded no view at all of -the world without. For the rest, there was a big, flat-topped desk, -heavy, leather-covered lounging-chairs, and heavy, dark red curtains -everywhere about the walls. And but a single door.</p> - -<p>"The place I've dreamed about," Ilingsworth thought to himself. For an -instant he stood drinking in all of its details in some sort of gleeful -ecstasy—the ecstasy of a man who feels the end of the journey near. -And then, suddenly, he became all action. He stepped to the desk upon -which stood a desk-telephone upon a standard, and a small mahogany -tablet with two push-buttons on its surface.</p> - -<p>"I can't understand why it's all so easy," he told himself; and the -next moment he drew from his left coat-pocket a pair of wire-cutters, -and with two sudden, jerky twists of his right wrist he clipped the -flexible green-covered wires that connected the push-buttons and the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> -telephone, and twisted the unconnected ends down and out of sight. -It was his first advent in this house of Wilkinson, and yet he had -rehearsed the scene in his waking hours and in his sleep so many, many -times, that he did it without nervousness and without fear. So that -he was not surprised to find himself more than practise-perfect. He -glanced about the room for evidences of other wires, buttons, bells and -speaking tubes, and then swooped down upon the door.</p> - -<p>"If only it has a key!" he thought; and the next moment he almost cried -out joyfully, for he found that it had not only a key, but that it -might be bolted from the inside.</p> - -<p>"And when it's bolted," he assured himself, "What sound can penetrate -beyond its walls?"</p> - -<p>Beyond its walls! The phrase, somehow, kept ringing in his ears; to him -there was music in it. He never thought of the walls themselves; nor -had he ever asked himself whether behind those rich and heavy hanging -curtains there might not be other means of exit.</p> - -<p>He took his place behind the open door.</p> - -<p>"Now for the crisis," he said calmly to himself.</p> - -<p>And plunging his hand once more into his coat-pocket he produced -a gun—a modern, hammerless revolver that he had selected with -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> -considerable care, after consulting the advertisements in the -magazines, and after reading the booklets of their makers. This gun -he had selected, not only on account of its particular efficiency, -but also because of its remarkably repulsive look. It bore the same -formidable appearance compared with the large family of fire-arms as -the bull-dog does to his canine race. It was a weapon of peculiarly -terrifying appearance—and that was what he wanted. For the rest, it -was a .32 calibre, and upon its handle it bore the maker's name and -a number—a number that belonged to this particular weapon and to no -other weapon of this make in the whole wide world.</p> - -<p>Suddenly the sound of footsteps in the hall without reached his ears. -Every nerve tingled with his purpose; every muscle became rigid and -alert.</p> - -<p>"Now!" he exclaimed.</p> - -<p>" ... Wilkinson," said the voice.</p> - -<p>It was a mumbled announcement of some sort which came from the butler. -Ilingsworth waited until he had retreated, and only when he was certain -that but one figure had entered the room, was looking about in wonder -at its apparent emptiness, did he slowly, swiftly close the door, lock -it, bolt it, and finally place his back against it. Then, levelling the -weapon, he extended it toward the person who had entered.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Seat yourself at that desk," he commanded, a dangerous note in his -voice; "and don't make any outcry, or I'll——"</p> - -<p>He stopped short and lowered his weapon.</p> - -<p>"Why—I——" he stammered, growing red-faced as he spoke.</p> - -<p>It was a mere wisp of a girl who confronted him—a girl full-throated -and full-bosomed, and upon whom the gods had conferred that dazzling of -all dazzling charms: light hair and dark brown eyes. Fascinating she -was even to Ilingsworth, bewildering, too, as she gazed upon him in -sudden fear, her eyes widening, her lips parted.</p> - -<p>"I—I beg your pardon," he stammered, consternation making it difficult -for him to speak. "I was expecting quite another person—Leslie -Wilkinson."</p> - -<p>Too frightened to reply the girl merely stood and gazed at him. For a -moment she remained thus, and then, with the shudder of one who shakes -from her some horrible nightmare, she found her voice and said:</p> - -<p>"Why, I'm Miss Wilkinson—Leslie Wilkinson!"</p> - -<p>Ilingsworth could hardly believe his ears.</p> - -<p>"You—you are Leslie Wilkinson!" he broke out. "Surely there must be -some mistake. Leslie is a man's name, isn't it?"</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 418px;"> -<img src="images/014.jpg" width="418" height="650" alt="" /> -<div class="caption"><p>It was a mere wisp of a girl who confronted him</p></div> -</div> - -<p>The girl struggled to regain her composure. Dumbfounded and confused -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> -though he was, Ilingsworth saw this, and with a hasty movement -thrust the revolver behind his back. And still facing her, he retreated -to a small table at the far corner of the room, and leaned against it, -thus concealing the weapon. In a measure this action of his reassured -the girl. Her countenance broke into a tremulous smile, though her -breast rose and fell tumultuously and her breath came in gasps.</p> - -<p>"Yes," she replied in an endeavour to gain time, "Leslie is a man's -name except when it happens to be a girl's name, too. My name is -Leslie—I'm a girl—you see."</p> - -<p>But again terror seized her. The man before her was undoubtedly insane, -she thought, and she glanced widely about the room for some avenue of -escape. There was only the door, and like some startled, wild thing, -she broke into a run toward it. But half way across the room she -halted, throwing over her shoulder a glance of fear toward Ilingsworth, -and then slowly retreated to her position at the desk.</p> - -<p>"Please don't shoot!" she pleaded. "I promise you I won't try to get -away!"</p> - -<p>Slowly, cautiously, Ilingsworth stretched forth his left hand. It was -evident that he did not wish to frighten the girl.</p> - -<p>"Don't be afraid," he assured her, and so quietly and courteously now -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> -that it seemed to the girl as if another man was speaking. "I'm not -going to shoot—I shall stay right where I am, don't fear. If you wish -you may go now." But as she started to go he leaned forward and said: -"You're free to go,"—there was a pathetic note in his voice now,—"but -I would like to tell you something—to explain my presence here. I -came here looking for Leslie Wilkinson—the son of Peter V. Wilkinson, -and——"</p> - -<p>"But," she interrupted, in a puzzled way, "but my father has no -son—I'm his only child."</p> - -<p>Ilingsworth bowed his head.</p> - -<p>"I know that now," he answered, "but I didn't know it before. I was -looking for a conspirator of Peter V. Wilkinson's, and I thought I had -run him down. I thought I had, indeed.... You must not be frightened," -he went on hastily, "and don't think me crazy. I'm only horribly -nervous. I've been desperate for weeks. I wouldn't harm you for the -world—I have a daughter of my own. But you must hear me out—I've got -to tell this to somebody—somebody who believes me, or I'll go mad. No, -no," he pleaded, for she seemed about to leave him. "My name is—why, -here's my card—I'm——"</p> - -<p>"Oh, to be sure, Mr. Giles Ilingsworth, Vice-President of the -Tri-State," she said smilingly, giving a hasty look at the card in -his hand. "I remember, now, a quarter of an hour ago I wondered what -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> -you might want with me. You see I dressed all up for you," and she -flashed a glance of coquetry toward him that was meant to captivate -and appease, for she was still under the impression that she was -dealing with an insane man: not for one moment did she believe that the -Vice-President of the Tri-State stood before her.</p> - -<p>Ilingsworth turned pale as he watched her. Although apparently -indifferent to her words, her marvellous self-possession and witchery -were by no means lost on him. With something of a pang he realised -that it was easily explainable. She was Wilkinson's daughter; she had -her share of his wonderful steadiness of nerve. He sighed. How many -times had he given thanks that Elinor was all woman, all heart, gentle, -yielding. And yet, how much better for her if she had some of the -qualities that Wilkinson seemed to have infused into his offspring. -Little did he know that Elinor was fashioned in his own mould; that -the dark-eyed, warm-faced girl that he had left at home had inherited -his impulsiveness, for he had been denied the even balance accorded to -other business men. Compared with the caressing tenderness of his girl -Elinor, this girl who faced him seemed, perhaps, too well-balanced. But -though he did not know it, he was mistaken: Leslie Wilkinson, though of -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span> -a different type, was fully as feminine.</p> - -<p>"Elinor," he groaned half to himself.</p> - -<p>"Mr. Ilingsworth," Leslie began, breaking in on his musings, "may I ask -what you want with Leslie Wilkinson?"</p> - -<p>Her question roused him. The blood forced itself into his temples until -the veins stood out like whipcords on his skull; desperation furrowed -his brow and lined his face.</p> - -<p>"I want nothing of Leslie Wilkinson except my own," he answered -sullenly. "There's a quarter of a million dollars that belongs to -me—a quarter of a million dollars—every dollar that I've got in this -world—every dollar that I ever had."</p> - -<p>"But," protested the girl, "I haven't your money."</p> - -<p>Ilingsworth raised his eyebrows. It was plain that he doubted her, -though she spoke with every indication of honesty and frankness.</p> - -<p>"You haven't any money, any stocks, bonds, deeds, or anything of the -kind?"</p> - -<p>"I have what my mother left me," was her quiet answer. "She died some -time ago."</p> - -<p>"How much was it?" he persisted.</p> - -<p>"Why do you ask?" she returned, annoyed.</p> - -<p>Ilingsworth made a gesture of impatience and again he asked:</p> - -<p>"How much was it?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Less—than a million," the girl faltered. "About three-quarters, I -should say. I have the figures somewheres—but what is it to you?"</p> - -<p>The man brushed away her answer as though the three-quarters of a -million were a mere dross.</p> - -<p>"Tell me the truth!" he cried. "For heaven's sake don't lie to me! I'm -a broken man! You've got fifty million dollars, possibly a hundred -million standing in your name. What do you suppose I've spent my -last few thousands for but to get information that was reliable and -positive. I know Peter V. Wilkinson—and I'm the only one, I'll wager, -who knows the truth. Next week, next year, the world will say that -Wilkinson is bankrupt—without a dollar in the world. But I know—I've -found out. There is not another man in the world who could do the -thing he's done—strip a million people of their savings and hide it -so successfully. That's Wilkinson! Now whom could he trust—but you? -You've got it all!"</p> - -<p>The girl was pale, but there was a new light in her eyes. She began to -perceive that the man who confronted her was not a mere overwrought -specimen of mankind. However much he might be mistaken this time, he -was talking with the force of business habit.</p> - -<p>"You know as well as I, Mr. Ilingsworth, that I can't very well -discuss these matters with you," she said frankly. "My father is -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> -ruined—I don't believe he will come out of this with a dollar. Who -is responsible for his ruin, I do not know." Little wrinkles creased -her forehead; she stopped uncertain how to continue. "It's the panic, -I suppose," she went on presently, "and he's gone down under it like -other Wall Street men. Only the blow—he suffered, perhaps, more than -the others."</p> - -<p>Ilingsworth's lip curled.</p> - -<p>"I know," he began emphatically, "I know that Peter V. Wilkinson is -still worth from fifty to a hundred million dollars—money sucked like -life-blood from the populace. I know that and more—his entire fortune -stands, in a manner and by a method that no one ever will suspect, in -your name. Your name, of course—whom else could he trust? Surely not -his second wife, with all that money? You know that well enough."</p> - -<p>"Mr. Ilingsworth, I——"</p> - -<p>"And because you had these millions," went on Ilingsworth hurriedly, -excitedly, "among them my quarter of a million, not mine, but -Elinor's,—do you know what that means to her?"</p> - -<p>Leslie was strangely affected. She felt her consciousness vacillating -between a sense of danger and a sense of pity. Surreptitiously, during -the first part of the interview, she had pressed the button for -assistance, and had discovered, later, the disconnection of the wires. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> -Just what to do she did not know. Above all, she realised that she -must propitiate this man—this man with the grievance, real or fancied, -whose statements, if true, gave her the desire to hear more; if untrue, -rendered him all the more a man of danger. Impulsively she held out her -hand, and said softly:</p> - -<p>"Do tell me about your daughter—Elinor—Mr. Ilingsworth."</p> - -<p>Immediately Ilingsworth dropped his air of aggressiveness. He advanced -slowly toward her, his right hand still in his coat-pocket, but, as -he approached her, he drew forth that hand, and with it, a small -photograph.</p> - -<p>"That's Elinor,"—he said, his face lighting up wonderfully,—"as she -was about a year ago—about the time I met your father. If I had known -that you existed, I should have wished that she could know you."</p> - -<p>Leslie took the picture from his hand and looked long and intently at -it. To her surprise she saw that this was no ordinary face. The girl -was evidently petite, with an expression on her face that seemed to ask -for the world's fond protection as well as its admiration; a girl with -her soul in her eyes, at any rate, so it seemed to Leslie.</p> - -<p>"Oh, she's pretty!" she exclaimed. "But someone must always take care -of her—always, always."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span></p> - -<p>"You've said it, though I never even thought it!" he cried. "And you, -a stranger, see it—that appeal for protection, that wistfulness, -that——" Abruptly he stopped and glanced quickly toward the heavy -hangings on the wall toward the right—a strange, startled glance it -was.</p> - -<p>Leslie followed the direction of his gaze wonderingly.</p> - -<p>"I had a feeling, somehow," he said, fastening his steely grey eyes -suspiciously on her, "that we were not alone."</p> - -<p>And indeed Ilingsworth would have been all the more startled had he -known that his fancy embodied the truth. For behind the dull red -curtains breathed a mortal who had heard, had seen, everything.</p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> -<h2><a name="II" id="II"></a>II</h2> -</div> - -<p>However successful Ilingsworth believed he had been in his effort -to persuade himself that his intuitive faculties had been at fault, -when they warned him of some alien presence in the room, it must be -acknowledged that he continued to look a little tentatively. At length, -however, his uneasiness wore off, and his manner, while again holding -out the picture for Leslie to look upon, softened so perceptibly that -it would have given one the impression that his visit there was more -in the nature of a social call than the tempestuous errand of business -vengeance that it was.</p> - -<p>"I wish you had known her," Ilingsworth said; "and I'm rather surprised -that you don't. We're Morristown people, you know, and Elinor, well, -Elinor's friends are all very nice people. Even in New York, she——"</p> - -<p>Leslie's eyes sought the ground.</p> - -<p>"We go out very little here," she said. "Of course I have my friends, -and there was a time.... But since my father married a second time, -why——" This girlish confidence trailed off into uncertainty. She -handed back the photograph. "But I should like to know her," she -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> -declared with sincerity.</p> - -<p>"I wish you did," he began, and then added, "even in the light of -present things, I wish you did."</p> - -<p>In the silence that followed Leslie fell to wondering about the man -before her, and it did not take her long to decide that she liked him. -He was not, it is true, of the same shrewd, practical mould as her -father. But she recognised that he had the high-strung temperament, so -often a characteristic of the aristocrat. The sense of fear was fast -leaving her.</p> - -<p>"I—I'm going to apologise," he began at length, "for the fright I've -given you, though my purpose hasn't flagged. And if I had a man to deal -with—if I had met Peter V. Wilkinson, face to face again, who knows -but the demon in me would come once more to the fore. You say you can't -understand. Let me explain to you how it was: Up to thirteen months ago -we, Elinor and I, had a quarter of a million dollars—that means nearly -fifteen thousand dollars a year. And fifteen thousand in Morristown -means decent living—even here in New York it would mean that. Then I -met Wilkinson." His face grew livid, his hand clenched. "May heaven -forgive me, why didn't I understand it was my quarter of a million that -this vampire——"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span></p> - -<p>The girl drew herself up and quickly interrupted him.</p> - -<p>"Mr. Ilingsworth, I must remind you that you are speaking of my father."</p> - -<p>There was no mistaking her anger. Her eyes blazed, and it seemed to -rouse the tiger in him.</p> - -<p>"Yes, I'm speaking of your father!" he cried. "And if you've never -heard the truth before, you will hear it now. Moreover, if I am any -judge of human nature, you'll know whether I am stating facts or -otherwise. Thirteen months ago Peter V. Wilkinson sought me out. I -thought I was seeking him,"—he laughed bitterly,—"but I was wrong. -He sought me out and placed me high up in his companies. I was -successful—which meant that he had succeeded in his scheme. I did not -see it then; but now I know that the man who is willing to stoop low -enough to rope in the pennies of the Bridgets, the Michaels, the Lenas, -and the Gustaves, of this world, is a man who would spend his time and -money to get my quarter of a million—mine and Elinor's—in his grasp. -But then I was flattered. It meant big salary and big dividends for me, -at least, so I was assured."</p> - -<p>He faltered for an instant, and then went on:</p> - -<p>"I was a fool—a fool, not to see it all before. The result is that now -I haven't got a dollar—we're penniless."</p> - -<p>"My father," returned the girl, calmly enough, "will have less than -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> -that, when all is said and done. This house, though it's in the name -of Mrs. Wilkinson, will have to be sold, I presume. I don't see why you -make a fuss over it—it was the panic, wasn't it? Everybody went down -before it. That is, a great many Wall Street men are bankrupt. So, why -do you complain?"</p> - -<p>"I complain because your father has got my quarter of a million—either -he's got it, or you have."</p> - -<p>"I told you before that I have none of my father's money. I have my -mother's money only—less than a million, that's all."</p> - -<p>"The panic!" went on Ilingsworth bitterly, ignoring her protest. "Yes, -that's just like Wilkinson to lay it to the panic! That's what they all -do! I tell you the panic was not the cause; it was the excuse. I wonder -if you have ever stopped to realise what a trust company is for?"</p> - -<p>"Why, to save people's money, of course," was the girl's ready answer. -"Just like a bank, isn't it?"</p> - -<p>Ilingsworth almost snorted. It was a strange colloquy, this -conversation between the man of middle age and the girl. It had a -curious interest that neither could have defined. The girl, on her -part, felt that Ilingsworth represented, somehow, the criticism and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> -abuse that the world was heaping on Peter V. Wilkinson. She wanted to -estimate its full force, to weigh its import, and then to defend her -father with every fibre of her being; Ilingsworth, on the other hand, -felt the need of a confidant who would understand, for Elinor of the -wistful eyes could only sympathise. This young woman knew what he was -talking about.</p> - -<p>"Miss Wilkinson," he burst out now, "you surprise me! I thought you -were more of a business woman than I am a business man. But I find -you're not. Let me explain it to you. Jones wants to run a factory; -Smith wants to speculate in real estate; Robinson wants to buck the -Wall Street game. Now they haven't got a dollar, so what do they do? -They buy a trust company."</p> - -<p>The girl opened her eyes wide.</p> - -<p>"That's nonsense!" she exclaimed. "How can anyone buy a trust company -without a dollar!"</p> - -<p>Ilingsworth's smile was full of meaning.</p> - -<p>"It's the kind of nonsense your own father has been dealing in for -years," he returned, placing his hand upon her arm. "They buy the -trust company, and put up its own stock as security for the purchase -price—then they go ahead. Jones runs his factory; Smith buys and sells -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> -real estate; Robinson bucks the game upon the Street...."</p> - -<p>"And without money?" reiterated the girl, still incredulous.</p> - -<p>"<i>With money</i>," corrected Ilingsworth, his voice even and unexcited -now, "with the money of Mike and Bridget and Carl and Sophy, depositors -who put their hard-earned dollars in to get a few cents interest—two -per cent., to be exact—while Jones and his crowd are making two -hundred per cent. on the money. But Jones isn't through—he wants more. -So he and his crowd buy another trust company, put up the stock of the -first as collateral, or any way you please,—there's no end to the -game,—and this crowd go on with their speculation, using the people's -money, and gathering in the cream. They never stop; and just so long as -everything is prosperous, so long are the trust companies sound. Then, -in the fulness of time, comes the panic,"—and with his clenched hands -he smote the top of the desk,—"smash!"</p> - -<p>The girl showed that she had been following him closely when she -maintained:</p> - -<p>"Still, that's only your point of view. At any rate, it was a venture, -and when the panic came—everybody goes under. These people don't -create the panic."</p> - -<p>Ilingsworth gritted his teeth.</p> - -<p>"I haven't finished!" he cried. "Out of all this crowd of Jones, Smith -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span> -and Robinson, there is always one man who understands the game. -He owns seventeen trust companies; he's milked them dry. He's been -<i>waiting</i> for a panic; the panic comes. Now he throws up his hands, -tells the people he's been a fool with the rest, and shows up worthless -stock—waste-paper by the ton that he has bought for just nothing a -pound. But he's got <i>all</i> that the people haven't got, and he's salted -it away. And that man's name is Peter V. Wilkinson."</p> - -<p>Leslie's face paled.</p> - -<p>"Mr. Ilingsworth," she cried sharply, "do you really believe all that -you've been telling me?"</p> - -<p>Ilingsworth stared her wearily in the face.</p> - -<p>"The Norahs and the Ludwigs, perhaps, don't mind losing their few -dollars," he replied vaguely; "but I want to tell you that when I—when -Elinor and I lose fifteen thousand a year—and how many years there are -ahead of us—it's killing! Killing! And you ask do I believe all that -I've been telling you?" He roused himself to sudden energy. "Believe? -Why, heavens and earth, I know, I know...."</p> - -<p>There was a pause in which Ilingsworth's eyes sought the floor. -Presently he looked up and held out his hand.</p> - -<p>"Miss Wilkinson," he said contritely, "for what I've done, or tried -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> -to do this afternoon, I suppose you could have me put in jail—in an -asylum. If I had only myself to think of, I shouldn't mind. However, -I beg you to keep it to yourself, if you feel you can. I see things -clearer now...."</p> - -<p>Leslie took the offered hand.</p> - -<p>"But you weren't going to shoot Leslie Wilkinson, if he'd been a man?"</p> - -<p>Ilingsworth shook his head.</p> - -<p>"To tell the truth, Miss Wilkinson, I wasn't. My intention was to -frighten him...."</p> - -<p>"You succeeded admirably," she answered, with a frank laugh. Then she -added: "What were you going to frighten him into doing?"</p> - -<p>Ilingsworth's hand strayed to his forehead.</p> - -<p>"I was going to compel him to sign a check, turn over stock, restore to -me my quarter of a million, somehow."</p> - -<p>The girl smiled as she asked:</p> - -<p>"But how could he do it in this room? Surely you didn't expect him to -have any stocks or money here? And if he gave a check, you know payment -on it could be stopped the instant you had left. And, anyway, how could -you get out unscathed? I can't just see how you could...."</p> - -<p>Ilingsworth stared at her, fascinated. He felt his vision clear. He -realised now that she was right; that for weeks he had suffered the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> -curse of, the desperate; that he had been robbed of the one thing -that the desperate man needs—deliberation. He had possessed purpose, -force—the purpose to force the issue at the point of a murderous -revolver, but when it came to the execution.... And what about the -result? To what end would it all tend? Until now he had never thought -of that.</p> - -<p>"I believe you're right, after all," he said somewhat sheepishly, and -started toward the door. "May I ask you for your promise not to expose -me," he entreated, "for the sake of Elinor?"</p> - -<p>Leslie bowed her head. Now that it was all over, she was on the verge -of hysteria. "Mr. Ilingsworth, I won't say a word about it," she -promised, "unless the time comes when I think it necessary.... This -panic seems to have made us all half crazy—even my father seems so -most of the time. Good-bye!"</p> - -<p>Somewhat incoherently Ilingsworth murmured some grateful words, and -immediately after Leslie watched him silently and carefully unlock the -door and open it. The hall was deserted save for the presence of a -footman near the front entrance, and to him this long interview behind -closed doors was as nothing. These were parlous times in the house of -Wilkinson; strange goings and comings were the rule, not the exception. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span> -Nothing was unusual. And so Ilingsworth passed out in safety, carrying -his purpose with him to the free air outside.</p> - -<p>But no sooner had he reached the middle of the sidewalk than there -swooped down upon him a horde of vagabonds, infinitesimal specimens of -humanity, and this mob of street gamins had but a single purpose, sang -but a common song:</p> - -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Tri-State Trust Company Closes Its Doors.</span></p> - -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Biggest Smash on Record.</span></p> - -<p>For weeks and months, perhaps, Ilingsworth had seen this coming, had -known that it was inevitable, and here it was, thrust into his face -in scare headlines that smelt to heaven! It smote him as with sudden -lightning shock. But the public announcement did more than shock him, -it turned him almost into a raving maniac. For an instant he stood -silent, regarding the clamorous morsels of humanity all about him, -clamorous for the smallest coin known to the Union. Then, with mighty -swings of his arms, he swooped upon them, shrieking:</p> - -<p>"Get out of my sight, get out of my sight, you ragamuffins!"</p> - -<p>The newsboys fled as far as the next corner. There they stopped, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> -clustered once again and jeered at him.</p> - -<p>Turning, Ilingsworth again faced the house of Wilkinson.</p> - -<p>"I'm tricked—tricked!" he cried. "Why did I give up so easy; why -didn't I force the girl...." For a moment he checked his half-frenzied -words, then he went on: "Peter V. Wilkinson, I'll even up with you, -somehow, yet!"</p> - -<p>In a few moments he had turned the nearest corner and disappeared.</p> - -<p>Back in the Wilkinson household, Leslie, almost exhausted, sank into a -chair. As she sat there, she perceived one of the footmen passing her, -bound from the rear to the outer entrance.</p> - -<p>"Jeffries," cried the girl, springing up, "tell Jordan that it will be -quite unnecessary to mention Mr. Ilingsworth's call to anyone. He came -to see me."</p> - -<p>"Very good, ma'am," returned the footman, passing on.</p> - -<p>"And Jeffries," she continued, "have you anything to do just now?"</p> - -<p>"Nothing, Miss Leslie," answered the man, "except to obtain the latest -extras for Mrs. Wilkinson. She's that particular about it."</p> - -<p>"Are there any extras now?" inquired the girl.</p> - -<p>The footman inclined his head toward the entrance to the house, through -which Ilingsworth had just made his exit.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Don't you hear them, Miss?" he asked.</p> - -<p>And indeed, at that moment, the yelping of the young street wolves -of Manhattan could plainly be heard. Leslie placed her hands over -her ears and fled incontinently up the broad stairs, disdaining the -services of the man at the lift, who rose expectantly as she started -past him. On reaching the first landing, she met Roy Pallister—little -Pallister, she always thought of him, and noting the consternation on -his countenance, she could not refrain from bursting into laughter.</p> - -<p>"Why, Mr. Pallister," she cried, "you look as if you had been shot out -of a cannon!"</p> - -<p>In a moment Pallister's look of worriment changed to one of temporary -happiness. He was an undersized little fellow, doing the duties of -his insignificant career with a gentle manner. He was her father's -household secretary, amanuensis, a paid servant, it is true; but -critics of the Wilkinson household always maintained two things: -first, that there was only one gentlewoman there—Leslie; and only one -gentleman—Pallister. Leslie liked him, yet she could not eradicate -from the humorous part of her nature the fact that Pallister was ever -like a shuttlecock, dancing his dignified but harried attendance now -upon Peter V. and then upon another member of the household, whose -demands were even more exacting.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Have you been shot out of a cannon, Mr. Pallister?" she persisted.</p> - -<p>Pallister turned his eyes away from hers: he didn't dare to look at -Leslie too long. To him she was just a bit too bewildering. After a -time his glance crept back to hers.</p> - -<p>"Yes, Miss Wilkinson," he said nervously, "and what's more, I've got to -come back directly and face the cannon's mouth again."</p> - -<p>Leslie touched him lightly on the shoulder; a thrill passed through the -young man's frame.</p> - -<p>"Never mind," she said smilingly, "I'm going up to spike the cannon for -you."</p> - -<p>On reaching the second floor she knocked gently, but persistently, at a -boudoir door.</p> - -<p>"Oh, who is it now?" came in a petulant, nasal voice from within. -"Come in, if you're coming; otherwise stay out!" And an expression of -something like pain crossed the girl's face as she entered.</p> - -<p>Sitting up in bed in a flowered-silk kimona, a lady was sipping a -claret cup. Year after year, like the Wilkinson mansion, the lineaments -and form of this lady had been portrayed in the press throughout the -country; and long after she was entitled to any claim to comeliness, -she had been heralded as one of the beauties of the universe. As a -matter of fact, her delicate form—if delicate form she had ever -possessed—had been wholly obliterated by a generous layer of -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> -avoirdupois—lumps wherever the lumps were the least needed.</p> - -<p>"Oh, it's you, is it?" she snapped.</p> - -<p>Leslie groaned inwardly as she looked at the woman before her; -for this lady of leisure was the Maggie Lane mentioned by the -megaphone—Margaret Lane Wilkinson now, but still Maggie by nature—and -her step-mother! The girl's eyes moistened as she thought of her own -mother that she had known, and who had died a short time ago. For in -the case of Wilkinson the funeral baked meats had almost furnished the -marriage feast.</p> - -<p>"Anything I can do?" asked the young girl, forcing up the pleasant -little smile that was always part and parcel of Leslie Wilkinson.</p> - -<p>The lady of the flowered kimona did not respond at once, but kept her -eyes fastened on the door.</p> - -<p>"I told Jeffries to get those extras right away—he's been gone an -hour," she complained.</p> - -<p>Leslie could not suppress a smile when she saw the multitude of papers -that bestrewed the bed and floor, and before she could speak, the elder -woman went on, between sips of her claret cup, to say:</p> - -<p>"Oh, the disgrace of these failures! The terrible charges that -are made! I simply cannot stand it! A mere girl, like you, cannot -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> -appreciate the strain of this thing on my nerves. And everybody thinks -of nothing but the strain on Peter; no one considers poor me——"</p> - -<p>"Oh, but you must not take it so to heart," said the girl with -well-feigned sympathy. "Everybody is failing now."</p> - -<p>"But I have looked these papers through and through," Mrs. Peter V. -went on, "and nowhere, nowhere have I been considered at all. Why, not -one paper has even mentioned my name to-day. For a month not one of -them has published a picture of me; yet they are full of pictures of -Peter V., this house, and of the Tri-State Trust Company offices. It -makes me sick—nobody thinks of me."</p> - -<p>At this moment the footman knocked at the door. Leslie stepped forward -and took the papers that he passed in, tossing them lightly on the bed.</p> - -<p>"Oh! Oh!" wailed Mrs. Peter V. as her eye rested on the headlines. "The -Tri-State has gone up! This is the end—the end of everything! Here, -Leslie, you take this paper, and I'll take that—we'll see whether -there isn't something in them about me."</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p>On the floor below, no sooner had Leslie left the Den than there was -a rustle behind the heavy curtains, in that room, and presently they -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> -were parted, and then, with a stealthy movement a woman stepped forth -into the middle of the room.</p> - -<p>Madeline Braine looked carefully about her, listened for an instant, -and then advanced still further toward the door. Her attitude was -watchfulness itself.</p> - -<p>"His daughter Elinor, a girl who needs protection!" she cried, with -an agitation born of fresh events, and then a half-sob broke from her -lips. "There are other girls who should have had care just as much—and -haven't had it."</p> - -<p>She glanced at her watch and started forward once again.</p> - -<p>"I can't wait!" she cried. "Why isn't Peter Wilkinson here?"</p> - -<p>For a moment it occurred to her to cross the hall to the -reception-room, and from there to summon a servant and give him a -message. She had had her own reasons, in the first instance, for -darting into Wilkinson's Den to hide. She well knew that her agreement -with Wilkinson forbade her to cross his threshold; but she intended to -make a crisis in her affairs as an excuse to him, and quite naturally -decided that there would be much less danger in the Den of her being -discovered by others than in the reception-room. Now, there were -reasons why she must not be found within this room: the interview -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> -between Ilingsworth and Leslie Wilkinson made it impossible. And she -started to leave, but suddenly drew back.</p> - -<p>"Somebody's coming," she whispered to herself. And scarcely had she -retreated once more behind the concealing curtains of the Den when -Jeffries entered with an armful of the latest extras and laid them down -upon the desk. After that, he passed out, but events happened with such -unusual rapidity that Madeline Braine found herself again caught like a -rat in a trap behind the heavy curtains in the room.</p> - -<p>"It's just as well," she assured herself, as she waited there, every -minute expecting to get a chance to escape; but as it turned out, it -was not just as well for her.</p> - - - -<p>Alone at last in the silence and solitude of her own apartments at -the top of the house, Leslie sat for some moments on the window-seat, -gazing out over the Hudson at the misty, dusky shore across the way.</p> - -<p>"I wonder," she mused, "if what this man Ilingsworth says is true. Is -it possible that my father——" she stopped abruptly. "No, no, it can't -be true," she went on; "my father wouldn't...." But the face of Giles -Ilingsworth rose before her, and she found herself searching his open, -honest countenance for some loophole of escape. Now his words rang in -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> -her ears, and she felt that they were the words of a man who knew....</p> - -<p>"Oh," she cried, "I must find out who is right, and who is wrong! I -must know about my father, and what he has done!" Presently, she leaped -to her feet, crossed to her dressing-table and picked up the photograph -of a man—a young man with a square chin and wonderful eyes—so she -thought—that looked her squarely in the face.</p> - -<p>"Eliot," she said softly, to the picture, "you're always honest with -me, are you not? You're honest with everybody. I wonder if you will -find out for me—the truth about my father."</p> - -<p>Now she drew the photograph nearer to her, and her eyes grew soft -and tender, and, for the time being, she forgot Ilingsworth and his -daughter Elinor; forgot the Tri-State Trust Company and its alleged -iniquities; forgot even her father, Peter V. Wilkinson.</p> - -<p>"Eliot, dear," she whispered, "I wonder what you would think of me, if -you knew that I did this?" Whereupon, she pressed her soft, warm, young -face against the pictured one. "Maybe you'll never know, though," she -went on; "maybe you'll never take the trouble to find out."</p> - -<p>Leslie laid down the photograph with a sigh, and, retracing her -steps to the window, was just in time to see a big Mastodon bring -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> -up at the curb in the street below, from which four men alighted: -Peter V. Wilkinson, her father, looking very much exercised and -troubled; Flomerfelt, his confidential man; and, lastly, two Pinkerton -detectives, recently-acquired guards who were never far away whenever -he appeared in the open.</p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> -<h2><a name="III" id="III"></a>III</h2> -</div> - -<p>"What the deuce is that machine doing in front of my place?" were the -words that Peter V. Wilkinson spoke as his eyes lighted upon the dark -blue limousine that had been standing for so long a time before his -house.</p> - -<p>"Whose machine is it?" answered Flomerfelt, who had not yet recognised -it. But a moment more he emitted a whistle and whispered softly under -his breath: "By George, it's hers!"</p> - -<p>Wilkinson's eyes bulged with anger.</p> - -<p>"What does she mean by coming here?" He clutched Flomerfelt's shoulder -as in a vise. "You don't suppose she's come to see my wife, do you? -What's she up to? Why, I wouldn't have even little Pallister see her -for the world! And as for Leslie! Thunder and lightning, if Leslie -finds this out—anything but that!"</p> - -<p>Wilkinson started toward the blue machine, bent on interviewing the -chauffeur.</p> - -<p>"Look here, my man——" he began; but whatever imprecations he intended -to hurl at the chauffeur's head never passed his lips, for then it was -that something happened: a strange, dishevelled figure dashed suddenly -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> -into the group, threw itself upon Wilkinson and seized him by the -throat. With almost maniacal energy the assailant forced Wilkinson up -against the blue machine, and digging his fingers into that gentleman's -wind-pipe, he cried:</p> - -<p>"Now, Wilkinson, I'm going to even up matters with you!"</p> - -<p>Wilkinson's face turned blue—almost as blue as the machine—and his -eyes bulged out almost like the headlights in front of it.</p> - -<p>"Help! Help!" implored Wilkinson, tugging at the wrists of iron that -held him.</p> - -<p>His call was quickly answered. And in an incredibly short space of -time, the Pinkerton men had broken the madman's grip and held him -fast. Wilkinson quickly regained his composure. Then half-wondering, -half-fearful, he riveted his eyes upon this enemy who seemed to have -dropped from the skies, while Flomerfelt came out from behind the -touring car where he had warily awaited the outcome of the sudden -onslaught.</p> - -<p>"So it has come to this! Why, Ilingsworth, what's the matter with you?" -ejaculated Wilkinson. "What have I done to you?"</p> - -<p>But before Ilingsworth could answer, the Pinkerton men had hustled him -into the Mastodon, and were holding him there.</p> - -<p>"Shall we surrender him, Mr. Wilkinson?" they asked.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span></p> - -<p>Wilkinson glanced at Flomerfelt, presumably, for advice. But when the -other was about to speak, Wilkinson evidently changed his mind, for -waving him aside with his hand, he strode to the side of the Mastodon -and looking Ilingsworth full in the face, after a moment's hesitation, -said:</p> - -<p>"Not yet; I don't want the authorities to have him yet. I may want to -talk to him first. Suppose you bring him into the house." And with -that, he turned on his heel, and, striding through the entrance to his -home, past his two footmen who were quaking in their boots, walked into -the arms of his daughter.</p> - -<p>"What's the matter, father?" she cried.</p> - -<p>Wilkinson brushed her aside, for the business of the moment was too -weighty.</p> - -<p>"Flomerfelt," he directed, in a low voice, "tell them to take -Ilingsworth into a reception-room—that one there, and hold him until I -send for him."</p> - -<p>Leslie took her father's arm and led him into the Den. With almost a -mother's anxious gaze she looked him over.</p> - -<p>"Are you hurt?" she inquired. "I saw—I could just make out -something—somebody attacking—it was all so quick—but I heard your -voice, and then I ran downstairs. But you're safe—safe!" and she -patted his arm affectionately. "Oh, what was the trouble?"</p> - -<p>Wilkinson sank down into his desk-chair.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Let me pull myself together first," he said. His heavy form sprawled -itself across the seat, and he panted with the unwonted fright he had -had. Now he lit a black cigar.</p> - -<p>"Confound it, Leslie!" he returned at length, "the man scared -me—blamed if he didn't. There was murder in his eyes."</p> - -<p>Leslie had not seen Ilingsworth, neither did she know that he was a -prisoner in another room.</p> - -<p>"Whose eyes?" she asked, eagerly. "What man?"</p> - -<p>Wilkinson turned his glance full upon her.</p> - -<p>"A man you never heard of, girlie—a man you never saw—a business man, -Giles Ilingsworth——"</p> - -<p>He got no further, for she was at his side now, her hand upon his arm.</p> - -<p>"Then he <i>did</i> mean murder! He did, I know he did!" she exclaimed, -greatly excited.</p> - -<p>Wilkinson had been wiping his brow; this operation ceased with a start -and he searched her face.</p> - -<p>"How do you know he did, girlie?" he asked suspiciously.</p> - -<p>At that instant the lean and cat-like Flomerfelt entered the room and -stood beside the girl. Immediately, with a feminine aversion written on -her face, Leslie withdrew and stood in the doorway, still trembling and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span>afraid.</p> - -<p>"How do you know that he meant murder?" persisted Wilkinson.</p> - -<p>"I'll come back later, father, and tell you why," she said, leaving the -room, and hastening toward the staircase.</p> - -<p>Flomerfelt moved slowly in the direction of the door and watched her -go, then noiselessly retraced his steps, and seated himself opposite -the financier. There was no cringing in the manner of this confidential -man of Wilkinson's; on the contrary, his attitude toward his employer -was that of man to man.</p> - -<p>"The only decent thing about you, Peter V.," he said impudently to the -multi-millionaire, "is your daughter Leslie."</p> - -<p>Wilkinson's face plainly showed his annoyance, nevertheless he said:</p> - -<p>"Flomerfelt, it would be well for you to leave my daughter Leslie out -of this—out of everything, you understand?"</p> - -<p>Flomerfelt smiled.</p> - -<p>"Leaving her out, then, I will revise my former statement. There are -two good things about you: one is Flomerfelt, your very necessary -confidant; the other is——" he started to say "your chiefest luxury, -Miss Madeline Braine,"—but he didn't say it; for Wilkinson brought his -clenched hand down upon the desk with great force.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Come, get down to the business in hand! Remember that you are dealing -with Peter V. Wilkinson." He paused, and then added with a smile full -of meaning: "Despite his being a ruined bank president."</p> - -<p>Flomerfelt shook off his air of sinister sarcasm, squared his elbows on -the desk, and was all attention.</p> - -<p>"Now, then," continued Wilkinson, "what are we going to do with—with -this incubus Ilingsworth?"</p> - -<p>"Jug him, Peter! The man is dangerous—he's a bad one."</p> - -<p>Wilkinson pulled away at his black cigar. This was a problem and he -liked problems. Ilingsworth was in his power, and Wilkinson did not -intend to let his chance slip by. Just then his eyes chanced to light -on the scareheads of the extras on his desk:</p> - -<p>Tri-State Trust Company Closes Its Doors</p> - -<p>But the magnate felt no sensation on reading them. That very afternoon, -for that matter, he had seen thousands of them on the streets; and so, -they moved him not at all. Nevertheless, he tossed one to Flomerfelt.</p> - -<p>"Pretty serious predicament, eh, Flomerfelt?" he said easily.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span></p> - - -<p>Coolly, Flomerfelt rose, reached over for a cigar and lighted it.</p> - -<p>"There are only two men in this city who can handle a situation of that -kind," he answered significantly.</p> - -<p>Wilkinson merely raised his eyebrows.</p> - -<p>"And these two," Flomerfelt continued, "have got to work together. If -they don't——" His eye caught the other's glance and held it. "If they -don't, chief, the devil take the hindmost."</p> - -<p>Peter V. Wilkinson laughed until he was red in the face.</p> - -<p>"You blamed upstart!" he burst out. "Do you think that Peter V. -Wilkinson isn't able to go it alone?"</p> - -<p>"I know he isn't," emphatically.</p> - -<p>Wilkinson sprang to his feet.</p> - -<p>"Why, you infernal idiot!" he shouted. "Who conceived the scheme -of transferring fifty millions of securities of my own to those -broken capitalists, Ellenbogen, Glackner & Gilroy, and of taking -over a hundred millions of wild-cat stocks! Who thought of having -the stock—the good stock, on the books, transferred to the names -of these three men, and then having them pass it over to an unknown -holder—Leslie Wilkinson! And who thought of sending these three men -to different parts of Europe, where they can't be found! Let those -who will, ask questions of me—you know what answer they'll get! Let -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span> -them ask questions of me!" he went on, swelling in the pride of -generalship. "My records show that I'm ruined. Let them ask questions -of Leslie Wilkinson—who's got the stuff, and who doesn't know she's -got it—what will they find out? Who else is there to ask? Three -inaccessible old fools who'll stay where we put 'em until it all blows -over. Who conceived that scheme? And who framed another that disposed -of thirty-five more millions? Tell me that, eh? Was it you?"</p> - -<p>Flomerfelt's smile was a sneer. In turn, he rose and looked his chief -full in the face, his own small, ferret eyes alight with contempt.</p> - -<p>"It may have taken a good man to conceive the scheme, but it took a -better man to put these things into execution, to——"</p> - -<p>Wilkinson laughed.</p> - -<p>"To do the dirty work," he interposed, contemptuously.</p> - -<p>Flomerfelt nodded.</p> - -<p>"Have it that way if you will, chief," he assented. "It's dirty work -any way you may put it. However, don't you forget one thing, it was I -that did it—and doing it, I did what no one else could do."</p> - -<p>For a brief interval the two men stood glaring at each other. It was -Flomerfelt who, at the last, lowered his eyes.</p> - -<p>"Well, have it so, Flomerfelt," Wilkinson was speaking now, "we won't -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> -quarrel. Perhaps we do belong together—at any rate, you get pay -enough...."</p> - -<p>"No, not enough," Flomerfelt mused half-aloud, for his thoughts had -travelled through the closed door, into the hall without, had climbed -up the stairs and were centred on Leslie Wilkinson in the room above.</p> - -<p>Wilkinson resumed his seat.</p> - -<p>"What are we going to do with Ilingsworth," he began. "That's the first -proposition. You say to——"</p> - -<p>"Jug him," finished Flomerfelt. "Take the offensive. Make the first -move."</p> - -<p>Wilkinson snorted.</p> - -<p>"That's where your 'prentice hand shows up, just as I knew it would. -I'm going to let him go."</p> - -<p>Flomerfelt started.</p> - -<p>"What!" he ejaculated.</p> - -<p>Wilkinson grinned. Slowly he gathered together the newspapers littering -his desk and deposited them in the waste-basket. Then he turned to -Flomerfelt.</p> - -<p>"Now, you whippersnapper of an understudy," he paused a moment, "the -reason I'm going to let him go, <i>is because I'm going to lay the blame -of this whole thing on Giles Ilingsworth</i>. See?"</p> - -<p>Flomerfelt looked at the extras, at his chief, at the walls, the -hangings—now still as death they were—and at the floor. Then he rose -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> -and paced the floor with that noiseless tread of his. Finally he -stopped, and swinging his lithe body about, once more faced his chief.</p> - -<p>"By George, Wilkinson, you're great!" he exclaimed. "Ilingsworth a -scapegoat! How did you ever think of it?"</p> - -<p>"<i>When</i> did I think of it would be more to the purpose," returned his -chief, not without pride. "I thought of it as I think of everything—in -a flash—while you were trying to induce me to surrender him. -Somebody's got to bear the brunt of this—he's the new blood that's -wrecked us—he and his crowd, so why not he, eh? Why not?"</p> - -<p>Flomerfelt's thin lips widened into a diabolical grin.</p> - -<p>"How are you going to do it, Wilkinson?"</p> - -<p>His chief did not reply immediately. His hesitation made the other's -grin widen all the more.</p> - -<p>"I'll have to work that out, Flomerfelt," presently he said, "but I'll -do it. He might as well smart as anyone else. Besides, what will it -amount to, anyway? An investigation—censure—a few bribes—and—— The -rest of us can go to Europe and enjoy ourselves until it's blown over."</p> - -<p>"If it ever blows over," put in Flomerfelt. Then he stretched out his -arm and laid his long, lean fingers on the sleeve of Wilkinson's coat.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Peter V.," he said in a low voice, "I'll give you credit in this, as -well as in other things; but let me tell you something: while you've -been mumbling here, I've worked your idea out—sketched in the details."</p> - -<p>"You don't say!" cried Wilkinson. "Good boy! Well?" And he looked at -him questioningly.</p> - -<p>But Flomerfelt shook his head.</p> - -<p>"No, chief, I'll work it out myself. But I'll say this much, I've got a -hold on nearly every man in the Tri-State Trust Company, the Interstate -also. There are things to be done, things to be sworn to, and only I -know how...." He withdrew his hand. "The question is, Wilkinson," he -went on, "am I to get good pay?... This thing is more serious than you -think. It won't blow over, take my word for it. A million people in -three States are up in arms; what's more, District Attorney Murgatroyd -is up in arms, too."</p> - -<p>"You get paid well enough, Flomerfelt, I should think."</p> - -<p>"Not well enough," he declared. And again his thoughts went aloft to -the daughter of his chief.</p> - -<p>Wilkinson touched a button; in silence the two men waited for it to be -answered. In a somewhat irritated manner Wilkinson touched it again, -and thundered out:</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span></p> - -<p>"What's become of the servants?"</p> - -<p>Flomerfelt leaned over in alarm.</p> - -<p>"The wires—the wires are cut!" he exclaimed. "The telephone is -disconnected," he went on, his face growing ashen with the fear and -mystery of it all.</p> - -<p>Wilkinson's excitement was evidenced by the manner in which he shook -his finger in the other's face, called him a fool, and ordered him -to go and fetch the servants that they might explain how the thing -occurred. And he ended with: "Go now, be quick about it!"</p> - -<p>At the door, Flomerfelt stopped. In the entrance was Leslie.</p> - -<p>"These wires have been tampered with!" he cried out to her. "Does -anybody in this house know how?"</p> - -<p>Leslie ignored the question, but instead she said:</p> - -<p>"Mrs. Wilkinson wishes to speak with you, Mr. Flomerfelt. You will find -her upstairs, in her boudoir."</p> - -<p>Flomerfelt bowed.</p> - -<p>"I'll go up with you at once," he told her; but Leslie shook her head.</p> - -<p>"No, you'd better go alone. I know about the wires. I came down -expressly to tell father about them."</p> - -<p>Flomerfelt reddened with annoyance, nevertheless he started to leave -the room.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span></p> - -<p>"I say," called out Wilkinson after him, "tell those Pinkertons to -drive Ilingsworth away down-town—take him to any place he wants to -go, set him loose. If he runs away, you understand, it will be all the -better for us. And if he doesn't, it will be all the worse for him."</p> - -<p>"I'll take care of it, Mr. Wilkinson," said Flomerfelt, adopting the -prefix that he used in the presence of a third party. "The plan is -yours; the details belong to me."</p> - -<p>With considerable trepidation Leslie approached her father.</p> - -<p>"You're not going to set that Mr. Ilingsworth free!" she begged. -"Father, don't do it! He's dangerous! I told you he had murder in his -mind—I saw it to-day."</p> - -<p>Little by little Wilkinson drew from her the whole story, with the -exception of her father's terrible arraignment by Giles Ilingsworth; -and that, for reasons of her own, she left out of her recital.</p> - -<p>"Come, come," demanded Wilkinson, shrewdly reading his daughter's face, -"you haven't told me everything! I want to know the rest."</p> - -<p>The girl looked away as she said falteringly:</p> - -<p>"The rest is nothing—really, there is nothing to tell."</p> - -<p>"If it's nothing, then you'd better tell it to me anyway," he -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> -persisted. "Come, dear, what is it that you're holding back?"</p> - -<p>For a moment that seemed minutes to her father, Leslie hid her face -upon his shoulder, and did not speak. Finally she broke out with:</p> - -<p>"Only something that he told me that I know is false; but if you must -know, I'll tell you what he said...."</p> - - - -<p>On the floor above, Mrs. Peter V. Wilkinson, still in her flowered-silk -kimona, received her husband's confidential man.</p> - -<p>"Sit there," she directed, pointing to a chair close to the sofa on -which now she was reclining, propped up by numberless bright-hued -silken pillows.</p> - -<p>Flomerfelt did as he was bid, not omitting to kiss the hand that she -had extended to him.</p> - -<p>"Now, Flomerfelt," she began, an anxious look on a face that was -usually expressionless, "I want to know just where I stand in all this. -For if there's going to be a crash, I want to know precisely what I've -got—that is, how much money?"</p> - -<p>Flomerfelt did not answer at once.</p> - -<p>"You know," he said slowly, "that it has not been the custom of Peter -V. to give money to his wife, rather, I should say, to put money in her -name. Like every other business man, he has always needed ready cash, -and——"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span></p> - -<p>"But how do I stand?" she interrupted, impatiently. "What have I got? -Tell me; I must know."</p> - -<p>"Well, to begin with, there are your jewels," he declared. "They are -worth thousands—perhaps hundreds of thousands."</p> - -<p>"And this house stands in my name, doesn't it?" she asked, brushing -away the question of a few hundred thousands.</p> - -<p>"It does," was his brief answer, but without enthusiasm.</p> - -<p>"And the house is worth at least ten million dollars, isn't it?" she -went on, with some show of satisfaction. "That's what it cost to build."</p> - -<p>Flomerfelt shook his head.</p> - -<p>"I should say that it cost much less."</p> - -<p>"What!" she gasped. "Why, everybody says it did. The papers...."</p> - -<p>Flomerfelt thought a moment.</p> - -<p>"I should think four million was an outside figure," he declared. "I -know Peter V. doesn't consider it worth more than that."</p> - -<p>"Well, four million is something, at any rate," she returned, -mollified. "I can live on that."</p> - -<p>Flomerfelt began to pace the room.</p> - -<p>"The difficulty with it, Mrs. Peter V., is that it is mortgaged. The -trust companies hold mortgages on it to the extent of five million -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span> -dollars, at least."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Wilkinson reached forth and drew him back into his seat.</p> - -<p>"Do sit down, Flomerfelt!" she cried; "and don't be a fool! What do -you mean by telling me that the property isn't worth more than four -million, and that, notwithstanding that, the trust companies have -loaned five million on it—more than its value? What trust company -would do a thing like that?"</p> - -<p>Flomerfelt's gaze took in the lady of the flowered-silk kimona from the -sole of her foot to the top of her head.</p> - -<p>"Um—such trust companies as the Interstate and Tri-State." He paused a -moment, and then added: "With such a man as Giles Ilingsworth handling -the reins——"</p> - -<p>"Giles Ilingsworth!" she broke in. "Who is Giles Ilingsworth? Why, I -never heard of him."</p> - -<p>Flomerfelt looked at her in well-feigned astonishment.</p> - -<p>"You never heard of Giles Ilingsworth! He was the power behind the -throne—the man who wrecked the companies—who did more, who wrecked -Peter V. Wilkinson." He made a movement to go. "There is nothing -further I can do for you, I suppose, Mrs. Peter V.——?"</p> - -<p>For the briefest of moments the lady gazed at him in silent -contemplation. Then motioning him again to sit beside her,—which -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> -he did,—she drew his head down close to her lips, and patted it -affectionately.</p> - -<p>"Flomerfelt, you're a good friend of mine?" she said.</p> - -<p>Wilkinson's confidential man straightened up.</p> - -<p>"That depends on how good a friend you are of mine," he answered, -looking her full in the face.</p> - -<p>The eyes of Margaret Lane Wilkinson narrowed.</p> - -<p>"You do your best to see that I don't come out at the little end of the -horn, Flomerfelt—take care of my interests, even against——"</p> - -<p>"Even against Peter V. Wilkinson," breathed Flomerfelt.</p> - -<p>"Even against Peter V. Wilkinson," breathed the woman. There was a -pause, and presently she added: "On every occasion, no matter what the -question, I shall agree with you."</p> - -<p>"You forget to take into consideration that there's a girl named Leslie -Wilkinson, who——"</p> - -<p>She stopped him with a concluding gesture.</p> - -<p>"No, not for one moment have I forgotten her," she affirmed. "If the -worst comes to the worst, Leslie has enough to keep us both."</p> - -<p>Flomerfelt bent over her.</p> - -<p>"It's a bargain," he announced. "We'll seal it with a kiss."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Why, Mr. Flomerfelt, I never have kissed anybody except Peter V.," -she simpered, blushing all the while.</p> - -<p>"I couldn't help it," he told her on leaving, and passing through the -door, closed it gently behind him. On the second landing he stopped and -thought a while. "Not a bad scheme, that scheme of hers," he mused to -himself. "She doesn't altogether realise that if the time ever comes -when we fight Wilkinson, she and I, that we will be fighting a man -still worth a hundred million dollars. At any rate," he concluded, "my -game is first to fight for Wilkinson, and then—against him."</p> - -<p>Meanwhile, in her boudoir, the lady had hastened to the mirror to -contemplate her fairness.</p> - -<p>"He's not such a bad chap, after all, that Flomerfelt," she -acknowledged to herself.</p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> -<h2><a name="IV" id="IV"></a>IV</h2> -</div> - -<p>Peter V. Wilkinson in the Den below was having a bad quarter of an hour -with his daughter Leslie. For, truth to tell, there was no person in -the universe whose judgment he dreaded more than the judgment of this -girl who sat before him: it was his one passion to appear well in her -eyes. He had listened, with keen interest, to what she had to say, -invariably seeking her glance, at times leaning forward with unusual -intentness in order not to lose a single word. Time and time again -her words, unintentionally it is true, stung him to the quick. And -yet, he had not even gulped down his emotion. He had faced her, quiet, -calculating, with a countenance at times interested, at times amused. -Not once had he interrupted her; not once apologised. At the start he -had wondered just what he should say when she had finished, had thought -of denials, of indignation, of calling on the absent accuser for his -proofs; but as her tale unfolded, he merely continued to chew the -black, unlighted cigar that he held in his mouth.</p> - -<p>"Have you told me all?" he asked, glancing up at the high window with -its leaded panes.</p> - -<p>The girl, shamefaced, downcast, because of her doubts of her father, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span> -flushed and nodded a "yes."</p> - -<p>Wilkinson smiled, and leaning across the table, looked her full in the -eyes.</p> - -<p>"Girlie," he told her, suavely, "you know I'm glad you told me this. I -want you to be just as frank in telling me everything else that bothers -you—especially about myself. I'm glad you told me this," he repeated, -"because, because it's true."</p> - -<p>The girl jumped up from her seat, and exclaimed incredulously:</p> - -<p>"True! Father, it can't be true!"</p> - -<p>He waved her back again to her chair, took a fresh cigar, lighted it, -and then said squarely:</p> - -<p>"It's the Gospel truth. With just one exception—an immaterial -correction that I want to make—what you have said is fact, only you've -got the wrong sow by the ear."</p> - -<p>"The what!" stammered the girl.</p> - -<p>Wilkinson waved a deprecating hand.</p> - -<p>"I should have said that your story is all right, but it's told about -the wrong man," he explained.</p> - -<p>Leslie's eyes sparkled.</p> - -<p>"Then you mean to say——"</p> - -<p>"I mean to say," interrupted her father grimly, "that the man who -concocted that very clever scheme was not myself, but quite another -person."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span></p> - -<p>"You don't mean Mr. Flomerfelt?" she put in quickly.</p> - -<p>Wilkinson rose, his eyes blazing with righteous indignation.</p> - -<p>"Who understands the methods of a thief better than a thief! Who can -tell you how to rob a bank so well as the thug who robbed it! Leslie, -the man who tried that scheme," he went on with great emphasis, "and -who, trying it, dragged us all to ruin, is the man who told you his -story in this room to-day. It is Giles Ilingsworth of the Tri-State -Trust Company."</p> - -<p>Leslie fell back before him in astonishment.</p> - -<p>"I—I can't believe it," was all she could say.</p> - -<p>Wilkinson laughed gently, generously.</p> - -<p>"I don't ask you to believe it, girlie. But let me ask you a question: -A year ago, did you ever hear my trust companies questioned? was there -any doubt of the integrity of the Interstate and Tri-State?—you -know there wasn't. Well, thirteen months ago we took on this Giles -Ilingsworth—new blood, you understand—who brought in a whole lot -of new bloods with him. We didn't understand then that he was a -get-rich-quick proposition." Wilkinson chuckled in spite of his -indignation. "We believed, rather, that he was an honest, sober-minded, -experienced chap, solid and, well, I thought I could take my ease, -thought I had a man who would run things right and let me have the fun -I've earned so hard. I let him go his gait. And what did he try to do -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> -for us? Just what he accused me of doing this afternoon."</p> - -<p>Wilkinson sank into his chair and covered his face with his hands. -Leslie darted around the corner of the big desk and threw her arms -about him.</p> - -<p>"I knew—I knew——" she sobbed in her joy. She -pressed her young, fair face against his grizzled jowl. "My father ..." -she whispered softly to him, as though to some lover, "my father, will -you believe that I never really doubted you? It sounded so true on the -instant——"</p> - -<p>Wilkinson drew her to his knee and kissed her.</p> - -<p>"I don't wonder you believed him, girlie," he said after a while. "Why -shouldn't he fool you, when he fooled your old father."</p> - -<p>The girl still clung to him, but Wilkinson felt the strain beginning to -tell, felt that his face was growing ashen with fatigue, and now that -it was over he needed solitude. So he placed her lightly on her feet, -and tapping her affectionately on the shoulder, said:</p> - -<p>"Run along now, girlie. And on your way out you might tell Jordan -that I'm not to be disturbed for fifteen minutes—not even by that -Flomerfelt, who seems to be wandering around upstairs in our private -apartments. That man gets on my nerves so that I can't think."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span></p> - -<p>After Leslie had gone, for some moments Wilkinson, in silence, puffed -away at his black cigar. Then, with considerable deliberation, he -rose, went over to the door, and locked and bolted it. Absorbed in his -thoughts, he remained standing there for a long time. When he turned -back toward the desk, a woman stood there, facing him—a woman, young, -tall, slender, with very dark hair and dark blue eyes, a woman with a -strange mixture of hope and trouble in her eyes.</p> - -<p>Wilkinson's face paled; he was angry through and through. Nevertheless -he struggled to appear calm.</p> - -<p>"Confound it, Madeline," he said tactfully, "I forgot all about you. -This blamed excitement put it all out of my head." But in the next -breath his manner changed, and he burst out with: "What the deuce is -your car doing at my door?"</p> - -<p>"Your car, not mine," she reminded him gently.</p> - -<p>He shrugged his shoulders.</p> - -<p>"It happens to be yours," he corrected, "for I gave it to you, didn't -I?"</p> - -<p>"We won't go into that," wearily she replied.</p> - -<p>Wilkinson looked her sternly in the eye.</p> - -<p>"We'll cut out the question of ownership. What's more to the point, is, -what the devil you're doing in my house? If you wanted to see me, why -didn't you wait for me to come to you? My wife is upstairs," he went on -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span> -severely, "and my daughter all around the place. They probably both -know you, even though they don't know.... You might have waited——"</p> - -<p>"I couldn't do that," she answered, faltering. "I—I had to see you, -and I couldn't wait. Do you suppose I would have come here—to your -home—if there hadn't been some urgency about it. I wrote; you did not -answer."</p> - -<p>"The Tri-State kept me on the jump," he half apologised. "I had no time -to read love letters——"</p> - -<p>"Love letters? Indeed!" she interjected, and then went on: "I called at -the Trust Company office to see you, sent messages, called you up on -the 'phone, but to no avail. I had to see you even at the risk of your -displeasure. Besides, no one has seen me but you."</p> - -<p>Wilkinson started.</p> - -<p>"You've been here in this room all the time—what?"</p> - -<p>"Behind those curtains," she informed him, emphasising her words with a -nod toward them.</p> - -<p>Wilkinson advanced on the woman as if he were about to strike her, for -now he knew that she had been spying upon him, had been a witness to -Flomerfelt's confidences, had listened to the colloquy between Leslie -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> -and himself; but, making a great effort, he checked his mad impulse, -and, instead, endeavoured to make no point whatever of her presence -there. He knew Madeline Braine's comprehension of business schemes was -nil. To direct her attention to anything she had heard would be unwise.</p> - -<p>"You couldn't have chosen a better place," he told her genially.</p> - -<p>And then it was that suddenly something seemed to snap within his -brain. The terrible excitement of the past few weeks was beginning to -tell on him; a wild yearning to escape all further responsibility, to -rove free, careless, reckless, took possession of him. The woman before -him was lovely to look upon, he liked her, and why not chuck the whole -game, so he termed it, take her away with him, anywhere, to South -America, to the ends of the world?</p> - -<p>"Why not?" he exclaimed, touching her on the shoulder.</p> - -<p>The woman looked at him, surprised.</p> - -<p>"I say, Madeline," he went on, happily, "I've been so busy of late -that I haven't seen as much of you as I would have liked. Besides, you -were good enough to be out the last two times I looked you up. Do you -know," he was close to her now, his hot breath upon her face, "I don't -think I ever loved you quite as much as now. Suppose I take a rest from -business, and we'll take a ten-days' trip in the <i>Marchioness</i>. We'll -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span> -have a bully good time! Come, Madeline, say the word, and I'll do it."</p> - -<p>Madeline eluded his amorous embrace, and slipping to the side of the -desk placed upon it a small black bag.</p> - -<p>"One of the things, Peter V.," she said quietly, "I came for, was to -bring these back."</p> - -<p>Wilkinson looked at the bag inquisitively. He wondered what surprise -she had in store for him, and smilingly proceeded to open it.</p> - -<p>"Jewels!" he exclaimed, eyeing her for a moment in uncertainty; and the -next moment his hand brought forth a handful of rings.</p> - -<p>"Yes, those and the automobile," she faltered, forcing the words out, -"I want to give them back to you."</p> - -<p>The man broke suddenly into a good-natured, affectionate laugh.</p> - -<p>"You've been reading the papers, I see, and thought the old man was -down and out. You were going to put up your jewels and truck to help me -out? Well, I'll be——" He caught her hand impulsively. "Say, Madeline, -you're a good sort, and no mistake about it!" And now, snapping the -little bag together, he passed it back to her. "But you're all wrong, -my dear, I'm not strapped—not much! This is between ourselves, though, -understand. You keep your jewels, and the car, too. There's many a good -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> -time coming to us yet. Don't you worry, now—and don't forget that I -appreciate your goodness to me. I do, indeed."</p> - -<p>"You don't understand me," she said, retreating under his advances. "I -brought these back to you, because I'm going to break with you. I——"</p> - -<p>Wilkinson looked at her dumbfounded.</p> - -<p>"Break with me! What? Surely you're joking. Why, no woman ever broke -with Peter V. Wilkinson voluntarily. I've broken with a score or more, -but this is a new one on me. Break with me? What for?" He leaned back -against his desk.</p> - -<p>There was nothing more to say; the girl had spoken in finality. She -drew herself up to her full height and looked down upon him. And as she -stood there in all her slenderness, she had never seemed more beautiful -to him.</p> - -<p>"I think I understand now," presently he said, white with anger. "You -really thought, like the rest, that I was a sinking ship; and you were -going to desert me, like the rats, before I sank. That's the idea, is -it? Well, you're mightily mistaken, my girl." And now he held out his -hand to her in appeal. "You don't want me to prove that I'm as sound -as a dollar, do you? For I can and will." And then he went on to tell -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> -her that he had all his money stowed away. "I have, for a fact," he -concluded; "but this is in confidence. And now you won't leave me, will -you? Somehow, I can't let you go."</p> - -<p>"Peter, I thought I might be able to do this without telling you the -truth," she said, with a note almost of tenderness in her voice. "But I -see I've got to make myself plain to you. I'm going to break with you -for the reason that—that there's someone else."</p> - -<p>The words fell dully on his ears.</p> - -<p>" ... Someone else," he repeated. He looked at her long and searchingly -before continuing:</p> - -<p>"But how can there be anyone else? I've got all the money that there -is in little old New York! What more do you want? Who else——" And -then, without waiting for a reply: "It isn't Wilgerot? No? Then it's -Debevoise?"</p> - -<p>She shook her head.</p> - -<p>"Look here, Madeline, it isn't that Dumont Mapes?" he cried. "You -wouldn't shake me for a rake like that, would you?"</p> - -<p>"I can't tell you who it is," was all the girl would say.</p> - -<p>"But I want to know," insisted the man. "You've got to tell me."</p> - -<p>"If you must know, then, it is a man I love—a man I'm going to marry," -she answered softly.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span></p> - -<p>Wilkinson returned to his desk, to a fresh cigar. This was another -problem, and problems were in his line, it seemed.</p> - -<p>"You're going to marry somebody rich, I suppose," he said at length.</p> - -<p>A smile crossed her face.</p> - -<p>"Somebody poor," she answered.</p> - -<p>"Poor! Why in heaven's name should you marry somebody that's poor?"</p> - -<p>"Peter, I told you I loved him," she repeated, still smiling.</p> - -<p>Wilkinson was conscious of a curious, indefinable sensation; an emotion -that heretofore had been foreign to his nature.</p> - -<p>"And—and," he stammered, battling with this new sensation, "he loves -you, I suppose?"</p> - -<p>"I know he does," she answered.</p> - -<p>The millionaire puffed silently.</p> - -<p>"He must love you," he went on at length, in brutal tones, "to—to -forgive all this." And stretching his arms wide into a circle that -included her and himself, he added: "He's willing to forget the past?"</p> - -<p>The girl did not answer. But on her face was a death-like pallor.</p> - -<p>"Ah!" he cried, quickly noting her change of colour. "Then he doesn't -know!"</p> - -<p>No one better than Madeline Braine could better realise the full import -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span> -of this sneer. Advancing toward him, her limbs dragging against her -skirts, giving her the appearance of a woman struggling forward on her -knees, she caught at one corner of the desk and leaned against it, -crying:</p> - -<p>"Peter, I love this man. You won't—why should he know——"</p> - -<p>"Why shouldn't he?" was the man's cruel answer. "You love him...."</p> - -<p>"No, no, no!" she cried. "Don't you understand—we're going away—going -West, never to come back. If he doesn't know, all will be well...."</p> - -<p>"Oh, so everything is going to be lovely," grinned Peter, "until he -finds out. But when he finds out? What then?"</p> - -<p>For a long time she pleaded with him, while he, lolling back -comfortably in his chair, leisurely blew rings of smoke in the air. -Finally he rose, and held out his hand.</p> - -<p>"You're sure, Madeline, that you've made up your mind to leave me? -Sure?"</p> - -<p>For answer, the girl inclined her head.</p> - -<p>Wilkinson frowned.</p> - -<p>"This interview is at an end. From now on, madam, we'll deal at -arm's length." Then he added, laughing brutally: "Until you find it -desirable to come back again to me." He unlocked the door and opened it -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span> -sufficiently to permit her to pass. "Good-day."</p> - -<p>Without a word she passed out and down the hall. At the entrance she -found Jordan, who rose and bowed.</p> - -<p>"Tell my man," she ordered, pointing to the blue limousine without, -"that he need wait no longer—that I shall remain here to-night."</p> - -<p>Jordan's heart popped into his mouth at this unexpected declaration. -With difficulty he asked her to repeat her message, after which he -stepped out to the curb and delivered it. And it was not until the -machine started up and had gathered speed for its homeward journey that -she gave the order to the footman to open the door for her.</p> - -<p>With a sigh of relief the footman cheerfully complied, and bowed her -out.</p> - -<p>"First she said she was going to stay all night, and then she said she -wasn't," he repeated rhythmically, "and now I wonder where the devil -she's gone?"</p> - -<p>Madeline Braine was hardly out of hearing when Wilkinson sent -post-haste for Flomerfelt.</p> - -<p>"Flomerfelt," he cried, the minute that worthy entered the room, "I've -got a new job for you. Forget the Tri-State,—it's trivial, compared -with this,—and find out the name of the man Madeline Braine is going -to marry."</p> - -<p>"Marry!" gasped Flomerfelt.</p> - -<p>Wilkinson clutched him by the wrist, and continued: "And when you've -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span> -found out his name, find the man. And when you find the man, -buttonhole him...."</p> - -<p>"Buttonhole him!" echoed the astonished Flomerfelt. "Don't you mean -throttle him?"</p> - -<p>"Buttonhole him," repeated Wilkinson savagely, "and then tell him all -about the girl he loves—and me."</p> - -<p>A few days later, alone in a bare, hall-bedroom, on the east side of -the big city, Madeline Braine sat staring, with eyes that saw not, into -the gloom without. Well might she reflect that nothing but a miracle -could save her now; well might her reason totter at the thought of what -life held for her in the future. The letter in her lap read:</p> - -<p>" ... There's no use in my seeing you again. I take it from your -silence that you prefer not to explain what I have learned about -you—what I have proved to myself to be a fact—the truth of your -relations with Peter V. Wilkinson. I start West to-night.</p> - -<p class="center">"Yours,</p> - -<p class="right">"H. T."</p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> -<h2><a name="V" id="V"></a>V</h2> -</div> - -<p>In Mrs. Pallet-Searing's house on Fifth Avenue was an authorised -hiding-place intended, evidently, for no more than two persons, which -was reached by a short journey through the interior flower-garden: -an undignified plunge between some half-dozen palm-tubs, and a short -ascent up a wide, circular staircase.</p> - -<p>In this haven—known only to the initiated,—a week later, Eliot -Beekman and Leslie Wilkinson had been sitting for some time.</p> - -<p>"We must have been here three hours!" the girl suddenly exclaimed -in tones of deep contrition. "Half the people must have gone. -I've deliberately cut every man on the last half of my card," she -rattled on., "thereby completely ruining my chances of ever marrying -any of them; and besides," she concluded limply, "what will Mrs. -Pallet-Searing have to say ..."</p> - -<p>"How did we get here anyway?" questioned the young man.</p> - -<p>"I led the way," confessed the girl, opining wide her eyes, and -glancing daringly into his. "Mrs. Pallet-Searing says that this place -is a trap; and, that Pallet-Searing says, that she's a terribly -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span> -designing woman. She says that he says that more—more matches have -been made on account of this moonlit spot than in any other place in -the Borough of Manhattan."</p> - -<p>The face of Eliot Beekman flushed, his eyes were unnaturally bright. If -only he had dared, with his strong right arm he would have drawn the -dainty head of Leslie Wilkinson down on his shoulder and would have -kissed her then and there. But he understood the girl too well—or -thought he did.</p> - -<p>"A match-making cosy-corner," he mused. "How many others have you -fetched here before—have preceded me?"</p> - -<p>Leslie laughingly rose and stood looking down upon him.</p> - -<p>"You're quite the first, I assure you, Mr. Beekman," she answered, -still smiling.</p> - -<p>"Are you—are you sure?" he faltered, becoming suddenly serious.</p> - -<p>"Quite sure," she answered, catching his mood.</p> - -<p>Beekman rose, the flush deepening on his face. His breath came fast.</p> - -<p>"Why, then——" he began; but the girl quickly held up her hand.</p> - -<p>"Now, don't be silly, don't!" she pleaded. "We've been foolish -enough as it is. People will talk, you know; they'll say that it's -the get-rich-quick strain in me that makes me do these ill-bred, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span> -extraordinary things. But indeed it is not. My own mother, Mr. -Beekman," she went on soberly, "was a charming woman—a lady who -would never have associated with some of the people that one meets -here, even. It must be the pure deviltry in me that makes me do some -things—pure deviltry, I assure you, that's all."</p> - -<p>"To lead some impecunious devil to the most exclusive match-making -place in America, and then refuse to.... Pure deviltry! I should -think——"</p> - -<p>Leslie's brow wrinkled.</p> - -<p>"But Mrs. Pallet-Searing? What is she going to say?" broke in the girl.</p> - -<p>"Say! Say nothing at all, of course. She and Pallet-Searing must have -occupied similar cosy-corners, I suppose, years ago," he answered, with -a smile.</p> - -<p>"I don't quite see the application," returned Leslie, puzzled. "Very -likely they had the right: they were engaged, and afterwards married."</p> - -<p>"True," said Beekman, his eyes feasting on her. "And I don't understand -why history can't repeat itself right here and now. The fact is, -your hostess will be disappointed—will be annoyed, I'm sure, at our -stupidity, if we do not make the most of our opportunity."</p> - -<p>Leslie smiled a glorious smile upon him.</p> - -<p>"Mr. Beekman," she whispered softly, "do you think we've been so very -stupid?"</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 440px;"> -<img src="images/076.jpg" width="440" height="651" alt="" /> -<div class="caption"><p>If only he had dared, ... he would have drawn the -dainty head of Leslie Wilkinson down on his shoulder and would have kissed her -then and there</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span> -She touched him lightly on the arm. He tried to seize her hand, but she drew - it from him.</p> - -<p>"I don't believe," he said, "that we've got any right to leave -this fascinating retreat, and go down and face the crowd without -being—well, without being engaged. That is, according to my idea of -the Pallet-Searings' idea, we'd be considered a dull young couple, to -say the least."</p> - -<p>"But I'd be cutting myself out of many a delightful hour here!" Leslie -shook her head.</p> - -<p>"Not necessarily," he persisted.</p> - -<p>She tilted her head critically.</p> - -<p>"And this is all I'm to get for sitting out the best part of an evening -with a girl, when I might have been down there with the madding crowd, -having the time of my life," he added.</p> - -<p>Leslie moved to go.</p> - -<p>"We've made several false starts from here," she reminded him, "but we -must go now without any further hesitation, and by separate routes. -Good-bye," she said, and held out her hand. "Shall I see you at the -landing-place at eight o'clock sharp in the morning?"</p> - -<p>Beekman drew her back.</p> - -<p>"At what landing-place?" he demanded, uncertain of her meaning. "What's -going on?"</p> - -<p>The girl fell back helplessly before him.</p> - -<p>"Do you mean to tell me," she sighed forlornly, "that I have been here -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> -all this time with you without telling you the very thing I brought -you here to tell?"</p> - -<p>"I only know," he returned, likewise forlornly, "that you won't let me -tell you the thing that for hours I've been trying to tell."</p> - -<p>Leslie laughed gaily.</p> - -<p>"It was very delightful listening, anyway," she admitted frankly. "But -about this other thing—I told everybody here, that is, everybody -that's to go, but you—and you, why I wanted you the most of all."</p> - -<p>Beekman caught her hand and held it, despite her dignified little -struggle.</p> - -<p>"You're sure of that?"</p> - -<p>"Quite sure," she replied, in a matter-of-fact tone. "You need a -little tan—the sail would do you good. Why, twenty of us boys and -girls,—besides some half-dozen chaperones—are going for the week-end -on the <i>Marchioness</i>. Away out to sea as far as she can stand it, and -back again. It ought to be good fun! There'll be only congenial people -aboard—the right men for the right girls."</p> - -<p>"But for yourself, Miss Wilkinson, who——"</p> - -<p>"My dear young friend," she broke in upon his question, "inasmuch as -I am hostess, I see no reason why I shouldn't have the whole ten men -most of the time, do you? I'm a pretty fair manager about these things, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> -you know," she went on interestedly, "and I thought for you that Jane -Gerard...."</p> - -<p>Beekman coughed slightly and glanced at his watch.</p> - -<p>"A most delightful trip," he conceded, "and I should be glad, awfully -glad to be able to take advantage of the opportunity if it were not -that I am so very busy, and——"</p> - -<p>Leslie was quick to detect his annoyance, but went on, still -flirtatiously:</p> - -<p>"Of course, I could pair off Jane Gerard with Larry Pendexter, though I -was thinking of keeping him myself...." She pursed her lips, and stood -for a moment with her eyes half-closed. Presently, she said: "I think -maybe <i>it could</i> be arranged." And laughing, now, added: "You'll surely -come, won't you?"</p> - -<p>"Come!" he exclaimed, beaming with joy. "I'd come in the face of a -million-dollar retainer from John D. Rockefeller—I would, indeed!"</p> - -<p>A few minutes later, when she faced her hostess to bid her good-night, -that estimable lady, not altogether satisfied with Leslie's nonchalant -manner, laid her hand on her young guest's shoulder, and drew her to -one side.</p> - -<p>"I hope, my dear," she said insinuatingly, "that it's not going to be -Eliot Beekman. He's all right, little one—handsome, and clean, too. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> -But what you need is money—don't forget that—particularly now. Take -my advice—Eliot is dangerous." The lady sighed. "I've known such -men—I knew one of them once." Her eyes sought the portly form of -Pallet-Searing across the big room. "And I married Pallet-Searing. It's -been worth while." But there was a sigh in her voice, the girl thought, -as she repeated again, "worth while. Run along now! Mrs. Wilkinson has -been looking everywhere for you. Even Peter V. looked in to take you -home. They've both gone. But here comes Eliot now." And turning to -Beekman, the lady shook her finger at him. "I've been warning Leslie -against you, Eliot," she said, frankly, telling him to his face what -she had said behind his back. "I've been warning her that she must -look for money. And, oh, by the way, Eliot! Somebody's been here after -you to-night. We searched everywhere for you except in one place, and -nobody is ever allowed to look there. Colonel Morehead is the man."</p> - -<p>Beekman started.</p> - -<p>"You don't by any chance happen to know——"</p> - -<p>"Business," interposed Mrs. Pallet-Searing; "at least, he said it was."</p> - -<p>Beekman gave vent to a slight gesture of annoyance.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span></p> - -<p>"I wish I might have seen him. But he's gone, I suppose?"</p> - -<p>Mrs. Pallet-Searing laughed outright.</p> - -<p>"You surely don't regret the fact that we couldn't find you, Eliot?"</p> - -<p>Beekman laughed sheepishly, and shot a glance of guilt toward Leslie.</p> - -<p>"That isn't the point. It simply gives me an involuntary pang when -somebody looks me up on business and I miss them. I have a feeling -that, somehow, I may have lost an opportunity; and chaps like me can't -well afford to miss a man like Colonel Morehead."</p> - -<p>" ... How are you going to get home, child?" suddenly asked her hostess -of Leslie. "Your machine is out there, but——"</p> - -<p>Leslie hesitated for an instant.</p> - -<p>"Possibly Mr. Beekman ..." she laughed mischievously.</p> - -<p>Beekman looked up with mock gravity.</p> - -<p>"Miss Wilkinson," he said, "you've heard that old saying about the game -and the name? Come!" And he took her by the arm.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Pallet-Searing watched the happy young couple leave her house, and -her face took on an expression little in accord with the worldly and -cynical advice that she had given the girl a few moments before.</p> - -<p>From her corner of the limousine Leslie confided to Beekman:</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Do you know that every time I do something, have something, or give -something, now that we live on Bankrupt Row, up there on the Drive, I -have to explain to everybody that it's my money, and not my father's, -as most people imagine."</p> - -<p>"I wish I could do something for you or your father, but I'm only an -atom of an aggregation here in New York, confound it!"</p> - -<p>Leslie looked at him gratefully, but went on:</p> - -<p>"My money must support the family. Father lost everything he had."</p> - -<p>"I—I didn't know that you had any money." He laughed uncomfortably. -"I'm one of these chaps who has to blurt things out, Miss Wilkinson, -and so I'll tell you just what I thought. Of course I didn't really -want Peter V. Wilkinson to fail—I was sorry when I heard about it. But -when I knew it had to happen, that it was inevitable—Oh, confound it, -I was glad, and for my own selfish reason."</p> - -<p>"Very kind of you to gloat over our misfortune," was her brief comment, -uttered by no means seriously.</p> - -<p>"I thought," went on Beekman, grimly, "that it would put us more on an -equal footing, that perhaps I would have the right to——"</p> - -<p>"Oh, the right, did you say? I never thought you worried much over -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span> -that," she said with truly feminine perversity.</p> - -<p>There was a pause. Beekman was the first to speak.</p> - -<p>"A terribly complicated matter, this making love to a rich girl. In the -first place——"</p> - -<p>"Is this an argument before a court?" she inquired, playfully.</p> - -<p>"Before the last court of appeals," he answered quickly. "And the gist -of it is this: How the deuce can a rich girl ever know that anybody -ever loves her?"</p> - -<p>"Do you suppose she cannot tell?"</p> - -<p>"You can't. Look at the rich women who have been fooled—either fooled, -or else satisfied to be sought for what they've got and not for what -they are! You know them by the score."</p> - -<p>"I think I should know if anyone loved me."</p> - -<p>The man shook his head.</p> - -<p>"There is only one way to make the perfect test," he told her, "and -that's impossible. To rid yourself of every dollar for all time, and -then see what happens."</p> - -<p>The girl made no answer.</p> - -<p>"Yes," he went on, "of all the women in the world, the rich American -girl, in my opinion, stands the least chance to be mated as she should -be. If she marries money, ten chances to one it's money she marries -and not a man; if she marries a beggar, she gets an adventurer. The -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span> -reason for this, is: the honest American men will not aspire to the -hand of a girl of wealth; and those are the very men that the rich girl -ought to marry. Unfortunately, however, they are just as independent in -their way as she is in hers. You ought to come down and be poor," he -concluded, helping her to alight, for the limousine was now in front of -the Wilkinson house.</p> - -<p>They crossed the pavement to the doorway. There she asked:</p> - -<p>"Do you know any honest, poor man, who will——" She broke off -abruptly, recognising her audacity, and then added: "Don't forget, at -eight to-morrow morning. Those not on time will get left—for at two -minutes past eight the <i>Marchioness</i> will be out in the middle of the -Hudson. Until then,"—and she gave him her hand,—"at the landing——"</p> - -<p>"Not at the landing," he broke in. "I'm going to start from here. I'll -call for you just to see that Larry Pendexter keeps himself to himself, -or at least to Jane Gerard. Is it a go?"</p> - -<p>Leslie did not answer. Instead she flashed him a bewildering smile as -she passed through the door which Jeffries held open for her.</p> - -<p>Half way down the hall, Leslie ran into Roy Pallister. His face was -haggard and unduly white. She started back as she saw him.</p> - -<p>"Why, Roy!" she cried, unconsciously calling him by his first name; -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span> -"what has happened?"</p> - -<p>The boy flushed as his name fell from her lips.</p> - -<p>"Miss Leslie," he began stumblingly, seemingly embarrassed by the -searching gaze she rested on him, "nothing—that is, nothing that's -imminent. Your——"</p> - -<p>"My father!" she queried. "Has anything——"</p> - -<p>"They," pointing to the floor above, "seem to treat it lightly. I'm a -beast for frightening you; but I think your father feels—fears——"</p> - -<p>"Mr. Pallister, what are you keeping from me? What is the matter?"</p> - -<p>The gentle little fellow steadied himself for a moment against the -wall, and then, as she made a movement to go, he drew her back.</p> - -<p>"Miss Leslie, I've been wanting to tell you something—I've been -waiting for the chance. If ever in the future you need help—help of -any kind, you'll let me know," he said with lips that trembled. "I -want to be sure that you understand just what I mean. I've never done -anything for you, Miss Leslie, and——"</p> - -<p>"Why, yes you have; indeed you have...." she assured him, and her look -was one of genuine affection.</p> - -<p>The boy shook his head.</p> - -<p>"I want your promise that you'll come to me if——"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span></p> - -<p>Leslie did not wait to hear any more, but breaking from him, ran -swiftly up the stairs. At the first landing she turned and looked -back: he was standing very straight and very quiet by the newel post, -glancing up at her with intense admiration. In a flash she was back to -the foot of the stairs holding out her hand to him.</p> - -<p>"I promise, Roy," she said impulsively. "You're the best-hearted fellow -going! Good-night!"</p> - -<p>At the door of her step-mother's apartment, Leslie paused. A babel of -voices came from behind the closed doors—the voices of many men and -one woman. Quickly in answer to her knock and question "May I come in?" -the door was thrown back, and Flomerfelt, her father's confidential -man, stood framed in the doorway, bowing elaborately. In a glance, -despite the haze of cigar smoke, she saw that the company consisted of -her father, her father's wife, and another man. With a glad cry, she -rushed over to this other man and grasped his hand.</p> - -<p>"Colonel Morehead! The sight of you...."</p> - -<p>In an instant, Colonel Morehead's thin lips parted in a smile. He made -an old-fashioned bow and then sank back into his chair.</p> - -<p>"You were at Amy Pallet-Searing's to-night," the girl went on, "and you -never looked me up. Be good enough to explain yourself, sir!"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span></p> - -<p>Colonel Morehead removed his glasses and polished them upon his -handkerchief before answering:</p> - -<p>"I was busy looking up somebody else," he said, and Leslie saw that -the smile had left his face as he resumed his tap-tapping on the table -with his fingers; she saw, too, that her father's face was a bit white -where the skin showed. He looked tired, but his thick Van Dyke bristled -aggressively, and his eyebrows breathed the usual defiance.</p> - -<p>"Where were you, Leslie, that we couldn't find you anywhere?" demanded -her step-mother, irritably. "How did you get home?"</p> - -<p>"Very comfortably in the limousine, thank you," replied Leslie. "Mr. -Beekman was good enough——"</p> - -<p>Colonel Morehead leaped to his feet.</p> - -<p>"Not Eliot Beekman! What? He came home with you?" He started for the -door. "Why, he's the man I've been looking for. Where is he now?"</p> - -<p>"Undoubtedly home, by this time," said Leslie.</p> - -<p>The Colonel again reseated himself and drummed loudly with his fingers.</p> - -<p>"Hang it!" he ejaculated. "If I'd only known.... He could have been -with us here now. We need him—and badly."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span></p> - -<p>Wilkinson looked puzzled.</p> - -<p>"Why do we need him?" Wilkinson asked the question in a voice in which -excitement still held sway.</p> - -<p>"That's what I should like to know!" put in Mrs. Wilkinson, gulping -down, not without audible satisfaction, her customary night-cap.</p> - -<p>Leslie blushed as she added that the question likewise was of interest -to her.</p> - -<p>"We're disgraced, that's all there is to it!" snapped the mistress -of the house, her night-cap, even at this early stage, lending her -asperity. "And I the most of all! I don't see how this Beekman can help -us out?"</p> - -<p>"I don't myself," admitted her husband. "However, nothing can happen so -long as Colonel Morehead sticks to us—nothing."</p> - -<p>"I have no intention of deserting you, don't be alarmed," declared -Colonel Morehead. "But for all that, I want this man Beekman—I -need him." And so saying he lifted from the small table a document -consisting of several sheets of carbon-copy.</p> - -<p>"Miss Wilkinson," he said gravely, handing it to her. "No—there's -nothing in it to startle you, only you should know, I think, we all -ought to understand.... If you'll read this, you'll know what happened -to your father this afternoon."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span></p> - -<p>Puzzled at first, the girl slowly read the flimsy document as she -stood there in the middle of the room.</p> - -<p>"Oh!" she wailed, as its meaning dawned upon her. "They had no right to -do this—no right whatever!"</p> - -<p>"You're sure you understand it?" interrogated the Colonel.</p> - -<p>The girl bowed her head gravely. Then, going over to her -father,—wholly unconscious of a curious look on Flomerfelt's -face,—she threw her arms about his neck.</p> - -<p>"Father, dear father," she whispered to him, "don't mind. We'll win -out."</p> - -<p>Her father submitted goodnaturedly but wearily to her embrace. He -stretched his arms and yawned.</p> - -<p>"I'm dog tired," he said, rising. "I'm going to bed. You'll stay all -night, Morehead?"</p> - -<p>"Not a bit of it," responded the Colonel. "You don't catch me deserting -my own hard bed—not much! I'll go home." He shook hands with Mrs. -Peter V. Wilkinson, and pressed a button.</p> - -<p>"How about you, Flomerfelt? It's rather late ..." said Peter V.</p> - -<p>"Don't care if I do," was the latter's answer. And on the servant's -appearing, Peter V. ordered him to show Mr. Flomerfelt to one of the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span> -guest rooms, concluding with: "Show him to the one with the painted -nymphs skylarking on the walls." Then he placed his arm around his -daughter, and together they followed Colonel Morehead downstairs to the -door, where they bade him good-night.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Wilkinson and Flomerfelt listened to the sound of retreating -footsteps.</p> - -<p>"He'll not be coming back," she said, "and I want to talk to you." And -pointing to the document that Leslie had been shown, she asked: "What -does all this signify?"</p> - -<p>"What it signifies," he answered, picking up the paper, "may depend on -you."</p> - -<p>The woman looked puzzled.</p> - -<p>"How?"</p> - -<p>Flomerfelt's eyes narrowed. Then, with a lithe and dexterous movement -of his long arms, he shot his cuffs—hitherto out of sight—into view; -extending them, with a jerk, below his coat-sleeves, so that they -covered his lean wrists to the extent of three-quarters of an inch, a -distance which he measured with mathematical certainty, apparently, for -his nice adjustment of them was followed critically by his glance. He -eyed and adjusted one cuff until it satisfied him, and then eyed and -adjusted the other; finally he rubbed his hands together, and said:</p> - -<p>"One of the richest women in the world—rich in her own right. How does -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span> -that sound to you?"</p> - -<p>Mrs. Peter V. stared at him.</p> - -<p>"Who is?" she inquired.</p> - -<p>"It's a possibility that affects a woman in this house."</p> - -<p>"Leslie?"</p> - -<p>He shook his head.</p> - -<p>"I was thinking of you."</p> - -<p>"I? I'm not rich. I've been a fool!" she cried. "I should have made him -settle something on me—half, at any rate. Now it's all gone; he's lost -everything; I might as well have had half of it—as well that, as to -throw it in the gutter as he did."</p> - -<p>Wilkinson's confidential man seated himself.</p> - -<p>"Unquestionably you need me," he said frankly, and then stopped. -Hitherto he had kept his own counsel. And yet, he reflected, there is a -wisdom of disclosure just as there is a wisdom of suppression. Some new -impulse seized him; his voice sank into a whisper. "There is a chance -for us, Mrs. Peter V., to be rich, if we work together, unusually rich."</p> - -<p>"But how?" she whispered back, excitedly.</p> - -<p>Flomerfelt smiled inscrutably, and answered:</p> - -<p>"Out of the wreck, there's a chance——"</p> - -<p>"A good chance?" she interrupted eagerly.</p> - -<p>"There's only one man who can prevent it," he went on.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Peter V.——?"</p> - -<p>A nod was her answer.</p> - -<p>Immediately then she went back to first principles.</p> - -<p>"What is going to happen to him? Will they put him in jail?"</p> - -<p>Wilkinson's confidential man smiled.</p> - -<p>"I've often wondered," he mused, "whether it would be good or bad for -us if they jailed him. A man in prison is a man very much out of the -way. But in this case he would be too much out of the way. Put him in -jail and you discourage his defence—you encourage the public, his -depositors. They'll do what we should do: infest the wreck and gobble -up what is ours by right. No, so long as Peter Wilkinson lives, we must -fight his battle for him—pull him through, keep him standing up, only -to be able to knock him down later. That, so long as he lives, must be -our policy. So long as he lives," he repeated.</p> - -<p>"Suppose," she began, and then hazarded: "In case of his death, what -would my rights be?"</p> - -<p>"In case he dies——" suddenly he stopped. That was a possibility he -had not foreseen. He had seen much strife ahead: first, a tremendous -fight for Wilkinson, then a tremendous campaign against him. But what -if the man should break down, die? There was food for thought, reasoned -Flomerfelt.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span></p> - -<p>"He might die," he resumed, holding her glance as he went on, "for -everything must be considered. Disgrace wouldn't kill him, but his -liver, or,——" he jerked his thumb over his shoulder,—"there might be -violence—conspiracies. There have been rumours that the trust company -depositors are wild, especially the poor ones—socialists, we'll say. -So, he might die—be killed. Who knows?"</p> - -<p>Flomerfelt rose and looked down upon her long and earnestly.</p> - -<p>"But we'll cross that bridge when we come to it, Mrs. Peter V. -Good-night, my dear lady!" And bowing unusually low to her, he left the -room.</p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span> -<h2><a name="VI" id="VI"></a>VI</h2> -</div> - -<p>It was three o'clock in the morning when Eliot Beekman reached his club -in Forty-fourth Street.</p> - -<p>"There's a telegram for you, Mr. Beekman," called out a sleepy employé, -from the office. "It was left here by your clerk to-night."</p> - -<p>In his room Beekman switched on the light and read:</p> - -<p><br /><span class="smcap">Eliot Beekman, Esq</span>.,</p> - -<p><span class="i3">32 Nassau St., N. Y.</span></p> - -<blockquote><p>Meet us at Hotel Iroquois, Buffalo, to-morrow six P. M.<br /> -Important letter follows. Wire answer. Do not fail.</p> -</blockquote> - -<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Bank Le Boeuf</span>,<br /> -<i>J. K. W., Cashier</i>.<br /></p> - -<p>"The Bank Le Boeuf of Buffalo! Sounds good; I hope it is good," mused -Beekman. "If so, another big client added to my growing list."</p> - -<p>Without hesitation he wrote an answering telegram, stating that he -would be at the Hotel Iroquois at 6 P. M. the following night, -took it downstairs, and left it in the office with instructions to send -it as soon as possible.</p> - -<p>And it was not until fifteen minutes later, in the midst of his -speculations as to the nature of this business sent to him by the Bank -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span> -Le Boeuf, that the thought of Leslie's yachting-party came to him.</p> - -<p>"Confound it!" he muttered to himself. "I clean forgot all about it. -What am I going to do?"</p> - -<p>Yet Beekman was so consistent that he recognised at once that there -was nothing to do save what he had done. He had built up his practice -without pull, influence or money; and he had done it by religiously -conserving the interests of his clients. He knew, therefore, that -he must obey this summons. So, assuring himself that Leslie would -understand it when he told her in the morning, he removed his evening -dress, swathed himself in a dressing—gown, stepped into his library -and began to work. An unfinished job lay upon his table—a job that, he -knew, would take past dawn to finish, and early in the evening he had -determined not to go to bed. So he started in.</p> - -<p>There was a neat supply of law books in his rooms—a good working -library, an average lawyer would call it. And from the hour that he -donned his dressing—gown, Beekman nosed among these tan-coloured -volumes, taking down one from its shelf, scanning the headnotes of -a given case, reading the opinion, slapping the book together and -replacing it. A hundred times, at least, he did this. Finally, weary of -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span> -his search, and hopelessly downcast, for so far his search had been in -vain, he found on the highest shelf a slender volume and opened it. And -now, as he started to read, his eye brightened and he quickly seized -pen and paper.</p> - -<p>"Eureka!" he exclaimed. "On all fours—just in point. By George, -this—this wins the trick!"</p> - -<p>Half an hour was spent in jotting down the salient portions of the -opinion of the Court of Appeals. Then, restoring the book to its -accustomed place, he folded up his memorandum neatly and thrust it -into a heavy brown envelope, labelled: Turner vs. Cooper. And now with -considerable complacency he leaned back, saying to himself:</p> - -<p>"I thought sure I was licked. But I've got 'em! I'll bet dollars to -doughnuts that Jameson & Bowers never even heard of that decision! -Now," he stretched out his arms, "I'm ready for Leslie Wilkinson and -the <i>Marchioness</i>—or, no," he corrected himself, "I mean I'm ready for -the Empire State Express."</p> - -<p>A moment more and he had turned on the faucet, filled the tub to the -brim, and had plunged in—holding his head under the cold water for -half a minute at a time. Completely refreshed, he dressed carefully, -ascertained from the appearance of the heavens that it was likely to be -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span> -clear, then quietly left his room and started down the stairs and left -the club. At the Grand Central Station he checked his grip. He had lots -of time, even for the preliminary little journey that he proposed to -take.</p> - -<p>After getting some breakfast he strolled back to the West Side and -sauntered up Sixth Avenue. The stores were all closed. One, however, -as Beekman passed, opened up. From the door its proprietor, a little -wizened Jew, nodded sleepily to Beekman. Returning the nod, the latter -looked again at the store, and retracing his steps, entered.</p> - -<p>"Ready for business?" inquired the lawyer.</p> - -<p>The proprietor nodded.</p> - -<p>"Always," he replied.</p> - -<p>"This is a gun store?" queried Beekman.</p> - -<p>The Jew yawned.</p> - -<p>"Loogs like id," he conceded. "Did you vant to buy a gun?"</p> - -<p>"I want ten cents' worth of shot," his customer replied, pointing out -the size he wanted; and, after the storekeeper had weighed out the -quantity and it had been dropped into his pockets, he started on his -way rejoicing, making a bee line for Wilkinson's. It was getting-up -time now, but not for people on the Drive. There silence reigned -supreme.</p> - -<p>But Beekman felt very wide awake. His conversation with Leslie the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span> -night before in the Pallet-Searing cosy-corner, and his successful -night's work had gone to his head like wine. And it was this condition -that led him to purchase a handful of shot; and now, regardless of the -fact that he was operating on the residence that had cost ten million -dollars, more or less, and, in fact, regardless of consequences, he -took his station in the middle of the Drive and selecting half a dozen -missiles from his pocket, he flung them lightly through the air, aiming -for a wide window-pane on the third story of the house. Three times he -did this. The fourth time he was stopped by a voice calling out:</p> - -<p>"Hi, there!"</p> - -<p>Turning quickly Beekman found himself confronted with the majesty of -the law.</p> - -<p>"What're you trying to do?" demanded the officer. "Isn't it a bit early -in the morning, or a bit late in the evening, to be out on a drunk? -What's doin', anyway?"</p> - -<p>Beekman grinned, desisting, nevertheless.</p> - -<p>"A bit of old-time romance," he explained; "trying to wake her up, -that's all."</p> - -<p>"Is her name Norah?" demanded the blue-coat, threateningly.</p> - -<p>Beekman glanced aloft; then he plucked the officer by the sleeve.</p> - -<p>"Look for yourself," he rejoined, "and see.... Is that Norah up -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span>there?"</p> - -<p>While the officer scanned the housetop, Beekman gazed innocently out -over the Hudson.</p> - -<p>"It is—not," he assented joyfully. "And so long as it is not, I have -nought to say, except," the policeman's voice trailed off into a -whisper, "except, sir, that the lady is waving to you. Look now, and -see."</p> - -<p>Beekman looked. There she was, indeed.</p> - -<p>"I've been up an hour!" she cried. "Wait until I come down."</p> - -<p>In the music-room, she greeted him with:</p> - -<p>"Have you had your breakfast?"</p> - -<p>"Yes. I came to tell you...."</p> - -<p>"Then you got my telegram all right?"</p> - -<p>Beekman shook his head.</p> - -<p>"You're not the Bank Le Boeuf of Buffalo?"</p> - -<p>"I didn't phone you," she went on, ignoring his question, "because I -couldn't, don't you know. But I sent a wire so you'd get it the first -thing this morning—at your club."</p> - -<p>"Crowd there too sleepy to get it to me, I suppose," he said, puzzled. -"What was in it?" But without waiting for an answer, he went on: "I -came to tell you about my telegram," and with that he passed it over -to her. "Business before pleasure," he remarked tritely, and yet -in a manner that he knew she would understand. "I can't go on the -<i>Marchioness</i>, you see."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span></p> - -<p>"The <i>Marchioness</i>," she responded, "is not going after all. That's -why I wired you. But I'm glad you came, because, somehow, I wanted you -to know—before it appeared in the papers——" She paused, and then -added, with much feeling: "The Grand Jury has indicted my father—late -yesterday afternoon. As yet no one knows it; but everybody will know it -by nine o'clock this morning. It may be in the papers now, though they -tried to keep it out. It's a terrible thing—a thing like that! I can't -see how, or why, they indicted him! Can you?"</p> - -<p>Beekman looked his sympathy. Presently he asked:</p> - -<p>"Do you mind my asking just what they charge him with?"</p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span> -<h2><a name="VII" id="VII"></a>VII</h2> -</div> - -<p>The Empire State Express had not travelled many miles when Eliot -Beekman's attention was directed to a strange-looking man who sat -across the aisle, facing him. From time to time the man's face flushed -and gave little nervous starts and twitches, and, every now and then, -he mumbled to himself. At first Beekman figured out that the man was -recovering from an unaccustomed debauch; but afterwards he changed his -mind: he decided that he was crazy.</p> - -<p>"Glad to get away from New York," confided the stranger, breaking in on -Beekman's meditations, and tapping him on the knee. "The farther away I -get the better I like it."</p> - -<p>Beekman somewhat resented this interference with his comfortable -somnolence, but he straightened up and smiled and answered:</p> - -<p>"For my part New York's home to me. I feel sick, somehow, when I'm away -from it."</p> - -<p>The man swung about and glanced nervously at the changing landscape, -and then suddenly turned back again and exhibited a pocket volume with -flexible covers.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Dante's Inferno," he declared, pointing to the book. "Ever delve -into it? I've just recently been through a little inferno of my own," -he went on. "I brought this with me, because I've got to keep before -my mind the fact that some people have gone through more than I have. -At least, so it seems to me. At the same time, I don't know that I'm -ready to change places with any of the chaps in here." He tapped the -book. "Neat little volume," he commented, rattling on nervously and -without apparently keeping much track of what he was saying. "See the -frontispiece," he said, leaning over towards Beekman. "It's Dante -himself. I wonder why he always wears that headgear? Never see him -without it! Always reminds me of a little verse on how to tell the -names of busts."</p> - -<p>"'I recognise Dante because he's tab-eared.' Tab-eared, you know," he -went on, "is his peculiar sort of headgear. All sculptors give it to -him." He resumed in sing-song fashion:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i3">"'I recognise Dante, because he's tab-eared,<br /></span> -<span class="i3">And Virgil I know by his wreath,<br /></span> -<span class="i3">Old Homer I tell by his rough, shaggy beard,<br /></span> -<span class="i3">And the rest — <i>by the names underneath</i>.'"<br /></span> -</div></div> - -<p>Beekman laughed aloud.</p> - -<p>"Good! Mighty good!" he cried. "Especially 'and the rest by the names -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span> -underneath.' A flash of genius that."</p> - -<p>The man turned over several pages in his book and began to read -steadily, rumpling his hair, from time to time, as he did so. Once he -looked up, only to find Beekman staring hard at the top of his head.</p> - -<p>"Looking at my Heidelberg scar?" he asked hastily, pulling a lock of -hair over it. "It was an ugly one, I can tell you, and almost did for -me, too. Sometimes, you know I've thought it dented me a little in the -skull." He pushed back the hair, again exhibiting the long, deep cut. -"It throbs there once in a while—it's throbbing now."</p> - -<p>His conversation became incoherent, and from it Beekman gathered only -snatches.</p> - -<p>"I don't know how to go about it," he continued, as though talking to -himself. "It's the taxes chiefly. If I can get rid of the tax sales, -that farm is just the thing for me. Old farm," he explained, looking up -at Beekman, "somewhere in Erie County. Thought I'd take a look at it. -Been in the family for years, but neglected it; now I want to live on -it, bury myself, get away from New York, from the Inferno back to Eden, -don't you know."</p> - -<p>He laughed a quick, nervous laugh, and jerked himself away once more, -his face twitching while he mumbled.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span></p> - -<p>"A man labouring under some strange and unusual excitement," thought -Beekman, "and yet...."</p> - -<p>The stranger was on his feet now, and going down the aisle paused -before a chair that was occupied by a tired mother and her -two-and-a-half-year-old child. Weary, mortified, her temper gone, the -woman was trying to appease the crying babe.</p> - -<p>Taking up the child in his arms, the stranger sat it on his knee, let -it play with his watch, rattled his keys, adopted a hundred lively -pranks for the benefit of the child; and the infant, soothed and -cheered by this new and agreeable personality, sank at last into a -peaceful sleep.</p> - -<p>"Nothing like a child," he said to Beekman, "to make the future seem -worth while. Talk about Eden—there's no Eden, no happiness, without -them. I love children, this one, all of them."</p> - -<p>Beekman once more lapsed into drowsiness, his thoughts, in a confused -way, resting on the eccentric character beside him. When he awoke the -train was pulling into Buffalo. Touching the stranger by the arm, as -he was preparing to alight, he quoted: "'And the rest by the names -underneath.'" And added, as he raised his hat: "Thanks. I'll not forget -that."</p> - -<p>Nor did he soon forget it. For indeed through many months to come he -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span> -carried with him the memory of that nervous, haunted, tired face with -the restless, hopeless eyes, the memory of this unknown man with the -scar deep and long and wide upon his forehead—the scar from Heidelberg.</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p>At ten o'clock that morning Peter V. Wilkinson was closeted with -Colonel Morehead in Colonel Morehead's office at 120 Broadway.</p> - -<p>"Glad you left that Flomerfelt proposition downstairs, Peter," said -Morehead, "because, for one thing, I don't like him."</p> - -<p>"Well, I do," retorted Wilkinson positively. "As a matter of fact, I -like him because I can't get along without him. He's a wonder!" he went -on enthusiastically. "Any time you want a thing put through, and don't -care how it's done, you hire my man Flomerfelt. In this whole crisis, -Flomerfelt, in my opinion, is worth his weight in gold. Why, the man -has a hold on nearly everybody that I know."</p> - -<p>"Well, he hasn't one on me," returned the lawyer.</p> - -<p>"He has on me, then," said his client, "but I don't mind. He gets good -pay from me; and he can make any given man do almost anything he wants -him to do—that's Flomerfelt. I never stop thanking my good fortune -that I've got him on my side. He's the kingpin in this mix-up, let me -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span> -tell you, Morehead."</p> - -<p>The Colonel laughed.</p> - -<p>"I was inclined to think, Peter, that I might be some pumpkins myself," -he suggested. "I may be, before we're through."</p> - -<p>"No use of talking," protested his client, "Flomerfelt can do things -that you can't do, and never thought of doing. If I get out of this -scrape, it will be Flomerfelt's doing...."</p> - -<p>The lawyer leaned back in his revolving chair. He was a lean personage, -all bone and gristle, with a lean nose and shrewd, sharp eyes.</p> - -<p>"Peter," he said, "a bunch of indictments for perjury, larceny and -forgery are dangerous things." He looked at his watch. "Confound it!" -he went on. "Why the dickens couldn't the Court agree to take our plea -at ten this morning. By eleven everybody in town will know about it, -everybody that can will be there. If the papers hadn't got on to it -early this morning we'd have had no trouble. We could have slipped in -and out—done the trick, and nobody the wiser. But now.... By the way," -he added, "that reminds me—I want that man Beekman over here. I'll -call him up."</p> - -<p>Eliot Beekman's office said he was out—said he was not in New -York—that he'd left that morning on the Empire State Express for -Buffalo.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Well, where is he in Buffalo?" asked Morehead.</p> - -<p>They told him—at the Iroquois Hotel.</p> - -<p>"Tell him that Colonel Morehead called him up," said the Colonel; "and -that I want to see him the minute he returns."</p> - -<p>Wilkinson nervously tapped his foot upon the floor.</p> - -<p>"I can't see what you want of Beekman?" he said.</p> - -<p>Morehead's eyes narrowed.</p> - -<p>"I want him to defend you, if these indictments come to trial, as -probably they shall."</p> - -<p>"What! That young fellow who calls at my house to see Leslie!" returned -Wilkinson. "Why, we want the highest-priced counsel we can get. I want -you, and Patrick Durand, but not one of the submerged like Beekman."</p> - -<p>"I want to tell you that Beekman isn't one of the submerged, as you -say. He's got a practice here that yields him at least seventy-five -hundred a year, which means that he's a wonderful man, because he's -only thirty, or a little under, with no political pull. He makes his -living out of the law pure and simple, not out of Wall Street, or real -estate deals, or the criminal classes, either."</p> - -<p>"Well, then, if he's not a criminal lawyer, we certainly do not want -him," protested the Colonel's rich client.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span></p> - -<p>"I like Beekman," proceeded the Colonel, ignoring the comment, -"because, in a measure, he reminds me of myself, though he has -something that I never had. Like me, he's a free lance. He never hooked -up in partnership with anybody. When he tries a case he does it as I -do—not with his associate holding his hand on one side and a couple of -assistants holding his hand on the other—but alone with a couple of -scraps of paper, and the rest of his case in his head. I like Beekman -first-rate." He hitched his chair close to Wilkinson's. "But that isn't -the point. The gist of the whole thing is this: There's one thing that -Beekman can do better than any other lawyer in New York; one thing that -he can do that most lawyers can't do at all. He is able to impress his -jury with his own absolute belief in his client's cause. He's sincere, -and the jury know it. And that's three-quarters of the battle. Oh, -we'll all be there, Peter, on the show-down, but you can imagine me -trying to impress a jury with my belief in my client's honesty, can't -you? Oh, yes, my cleverness is conceded; they'd all laugh, and say, -'Strike one for the Colonel,' and all that sort of thing. But ten -chances to one they'd find the other way. I wish I had that strange -thing that Beekman has got! All my life I've wanted it."</p> - -<p>Wilkinson fidgeted about. He didn't see this as the Colonel did. -Nevertheless he answered:</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span></p> - -<p>"What you say goes, Morehead!"</p> - -<p>The Colonel jerked his head and became the least bit more confidential.</p> - -<p>"But the trick is to be sure that Beekman actually does believe in you. -But, Peter, we're fortunate in one respect—I would have retained him -anyway—but this development is certainly fortuitous: He wants to marry -your daughter Leslie."</p> - -<p>Wilkinson's face reddened; his Van Dyke bristled with opposition.</p> - -<p>"I'd like to see him get the chance!" he cried. "Leslie has got to -marry well, and she's just the hard-headed little girl who'll do it, -too. Beekman marry Leslie! Not if I know it!"</p> - -<p>The lawyer sank back wearily.</p> - -<p>"The question of who marries your daughter, Wilkinson, is no concern -of mine. That Beekman wants to marry her, is enough for me. Let him -want to—let him see her all he wants to—you can fix the ultimate -proceedings in your own way. But for the present, somebody has got to -build up in Beekman a great and immovable faith in you. He must be -educated up to the belief that you are as straight as a string. Let his -teacher be the girl; she'll make the best one, for she believes in you -herself."</p> - -<p>Wilkinson pressed his hand against his face.</p> - -<p>"And she's always got to believe in me," he groaned. "We must see to -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span>that."</p> - -<p>The Colonel gripped his arm.</p> - -<p>"And whatever happens, Peter," he concluded, "I don't want Beekman ever -to meet this man Giles Ilingsworth, for he's another of your honest -chaps; and if Beekman before your trial should hear from the lips of -Giles Ilingsworth his own story of the case, he's going to believe -it. Do you understand?" The lawyer grinned, adding: "For I believe it -myself."</p> - -<p>Fifteen minutes later a Mastodon turned into Franklin Street from -Broadway and rolled easily down the hill toward the Criminal Courts -Building, next door to the Tombs. In the car were four men: Peter V. -Wilkinson, Colonel Morehead, his counsel; Roy Pallister, Wilkinson's -private secretary, and Wilkinson's chauffeur.</p> - -<p>"Great guns!" cried Wilkinson when they were half way down the street; -"look at the crowds! Why, everybody in New York is here!"</p> - -<p>"I heard on the street this morning," said Morehead, who rather enjoyed -his client's discomfiture, "that the disgruntled depositors had -deserted the front doors of the Interstate and the Tri-State, and had -formed here, waiting to see you——"</p> - -<p>Morehead got no further, for at that moment the car abruptly stopped, -as if on the brink of a precipice. A dirty fist was thrust into the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span> -car, and an extra shoved into their faces.</p> - - - -<p class="center">WILKINSON WARNED!</p> - -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Rumours Rife That the Crowd at Criminal Court Will -<br /> Try to Kill</span>——</p> - -<p>"Stop the car! Stop the car!" called out Wilkinson frantically. "Look -at that murderous gang down there! Go back—go back! Turn the other -way—turn the car around, do you hear?"</p> - -<p>Morehead held up his hand.</p> - -<p>"It's all right, Francois. Go ahead!" he commanded. "Go right ahead and -nobody will notice us. We'll go in by the rear entrance; most of the -crowd are in front. There are four automobiles there already; they've -probably mistaken others for us. The crowd don't know you, Wilkinson, -from Adam—wouldn't know you from your pictures in the papers. Besides, -there's no danger; there never is, with a New York crowd. Drive on!"</p> - -<p>The chauffeur obeyed him.</p> - -<p>Now they were on the outskirts of the crowd, and had begun slowly to -eat their way through it when, all of a sudden, somebody set up a cry -of "Wilkinson!" But quick as a flash, Morehead leaned over the side of -the car and shouted to the nearest of the mob:</p> - -<p>"Has Wilkinson arrived?"</p> - -<p>The answer was "No!" And at once word passed quickly that the car did -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span> -not contain Wilkinson, but somebody else. Nevertheless, to Wilkinson's -fearful eye there was a movement here, there, everywhere, as if the -crowd, or some few people in it, had realised the truth.</p> - -<p>Presently Morehead caught sight of two officers standing on the steps. -To these the Colonel waved an unseen signal, while on the sidewalk -Wilkinson's faithful Pinkertons waited, alert, quiet, their hands in -their coat pockets.</p> - -<p>And so it happened that the Mastodon managed to draw up at the curb -before a spacious door, the two officers moving out to meet it, the -Pinkertons flanking it on the other side.</p> - -<p>"All we have to do, you see," said Colonel Morehead, "is to make a dash -behind these uniforms, and a second more and we're inside. The crowd -will be fooled."</p> - -<p>But the crowd was not fooled. For suddenly there rose upon the air a -mighty cry as if from a thousand throats:</p> - -<p>"Wilkinson! Wilkinson! He's here! He's here! This way! This way! -There's Wilkinson!" A moment's silence, and then more cries of: "Thief! -Forger! Perjurer! My money—give me back my money!... Arg-gh Wilkinson -...!"</p> - -<p>"Now, Wilkinson," whispered the Colonel, "keep a stiff upper lip; don't -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span> -turn a hair. Just get out of the car and walk right through. I know -crowds—nothing will happen—nothing. Now...."</p> - -<p>Colonel Morehead was a man whose orders were generally obeyed. -Consequently, in a situation like this, his reassuring words carried -great weight, and the men with him in the car, immediately following -his example, jumped to their feet. For an instant they stood, exposed -to merciless hootings, preparing to alight; and in that very instant -there suddenly rang out a revolver shot, and a puff of smoke floated -over the densest part of the crowd, while, almost simultaneously, one -of the four men in the car, clutching first at the air and then at -his throat, plunged head foremost into the street below. Just how it -happened the police never knew, but all remembered hearing a voice cry -out: "Wilkinson!"</p> - -<p>For a moment that seemed hours, the trained Pinkertons failed to rise -to the emergency, but then fairly leaping into the machine and dragging -the men across the sidewalk, they thrust them into the safety within -the hall and closed the doors on them. Out again and into the street -dashed the Pinkertons with the two uniformed officers, and there they -picked up the body which was lying hideously huddled between the curb -and the machine. As for Francois the chauffeur, he had fled.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Get back there! Get back there!" cried the officers. "If you don't, -we'll pull our clubs. Get back! Will you get back ...!"</p> - -<p>But the frenzied crowd would not budge. So the officers, with their -backs to the machine, plied their clubs viciously about them, but even -then the mob persisted.</p> - -<p>"It served him right! He got what was coming to him!" came from all -sides.</p> - -<p>"Get back!" cried the officers, standing guard over the body on the -sidewalk. Gently one of them felt of the dead man, opening his clothing -at the neck, felt of his heart. Now the officers shook their heads. -A man came running through the crowd. "I'm a doctor," he told them; -"anything I can do?" He, too, applied the tests. Presently he finished -and rose to his feet, and announced:</p> - -<p>"He's dead—dead as a door nail."</p> - -<p>The policemen carried the body into the huge building and laid it down -upon the stones.</p> - -<p>"Great heavens! It's little Pallister."</p> - -<p>The exclamation fell from the lips of Peter V. Wilkinson as he -clutched at Colonel Morehead for support. A moment later, wiping the -perspiration from his face, he added:</p> - -<p>"And they meant that for me!"</p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span> -<h2><a name="VIII" id="VIII"></a>VIII</h2> -</div> - -<p>Despite the efforts of his counsel to pacify him, it was fully half -an hour before Peter V. Wilkinson recovered from his fright. Over and -over again he wailed in the lawyer's ears, "But they tried to do it, -Morehead. They tried to kill me, didn't they?" And when, at last, the -replies to this question were not forthcoming, he asked, between little -fits of shivering, what plans had been made to get him away, since -the police would probably be powerless to drive away the crowd which -every moment, he was positive, was increasing because of the excitement -and their knowledge now that he was in the building. In a measure, -however, he was soon reassured. For after a loud rap on the railing, -the Court came in, and glancing commiseratingly at Colonel Morehead, as -if apologising for an act of violence, he shot out a stern forefinger -towards the officers and cried out in a sonorous tone:</p> - -<p>"Clear the court-room at once! Next thing you know we'll have violence -here."</p> - -<p>This proceeding took some little time, for the court-room was crowded. -When at last it was cleared the Court, bowing respectfully to Colonel -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span> -Morehead, announced:</p> - -<p>"If you're ready, Colonel Morehead, we'll have the indictments read."</p> - -<p>The Colonel made a grimace.</p> - -<p>"We've been reading them all night, your Honour; I know them all by -heart; I think we can waive having them read."</p> - -<p>"Put the waiver on the record," said the Assistant District Attorney to -the stenographer. He nodded toward the Court. "The District Attorney is -most particular about this case."</p> - -<p>"How do you plead to the first, Colonel?" asked the Court.</p> - -<p>"The larceny indictment?"</p> - -<p>"Yes."</p> - -<p>"Not guilty."</p> - -<p>"Forgery—eight counts there, Colonel."</p> - -<p>"Not guilty."</p> - -<p>"Perjury—these banking reports—how about it?"</p> - -<p>"Not guilty," repeated Morehead laconically. "And now, your Honour," he -went on, adopting a casual tone, "about bail?"</p> - -<p>The Court inclined his head toward the Assistant District Attorney.</p> - -<p>"Any suggestions?"</p> - -<p>"I move, your Honour," said the assistant, "that bail in these -cases,—under the new rule laid down in the Mitchell case,—be fixed at -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span> -two hundred and fifty thousand dollars on each charge."</p> - -<p>Colonel Morehead stiffened as with a sudden shock.</p> - -<p>"Your Honour," he protested, "this is preposterous! Every defendant is -entitled to have bail fixed at a reasonable sum."</p> - -<p>"Then," went on the assistant with asperity, "if Colonel Morehead makes -a fuss about it, I move, your Honour, to hold this defendant in the -Tombs, and without bail, if your Honour please. It is, in this case, -discretionary with your Honour. People vs. Mitchell, 193 New York."</p> - -<p>His Honour nodded impartially to Colonel Morehead and the Assistant -District Attorney.</p> - -<p>For a while he gazed into space; finally he said:</p> - -<p>"Colonel Morehead, I think that I must fix the bail suggested, if I fix -any bail at all."</p> - -<p>"This is barbarous, prohibitive, unconstitutional," groaned Morehead. -"Why, your Honour, it is a notorious fact that my client is a broken -man, financially. Where can he get three-quarters of a million bail?"</p> - -<p>The Court's eyes sought the rear wall. He had often dined with -Wilkinson, had been entertained at his house, but this made no -difference to the Court.</p> - -<p>"I think, Colonel," he repeated, this time with a shade more emphasis, -"that I must fix the bail suggested, if I am to fix any bail at all."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span></p> - -<p>Wilkinson, the present calamity fresh upon him, was trembling; and -pressing against Colonel Morehead, whispered loudly in his ear:</p> - -<p>"Let it go at three-quarters of a million, Colonel; we can raise that -easy enough."</p> - -<p>The Colonel turned white with rage. He looked at the Assistant District -Attorney to see if that gentleman had heard the remark. Then, satisfied -that he had not, he turned swiftly and ostentatiously upon his client, -protesting:</p> - -<p>"Mr. Wilkinson, I am managing this case, not you. Be good enough to -let me manage it alone." Before proceeding, he wiped his glasses and -blinked his eyes. "Your Honour," he said with considerable pathos in -his tone, "to fix this bail means that my client must be incarcerated -in the Tombs. Who among all his friends will come forward to-day and -furnish three-quarters of a million dollars bail? Who, indeed?" He -shook his head. "Blessed are they that hath, for to them shall be -given. But to him that hath not, shall be taken away, even that he -hath. Does your Honour still persist?"</p> - -<p>"Colonel Morehead," said the Court, "I shall cheerfully hold this man -without bail at all, if you still persist."</p> - -<p>Morehead bowed.</p> - -<p>"We shall try ..." and his voice rang with the wail of a funeral bell, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span>"we shall try to get bail, your Honour."</p> - -<p>"You can't furnish it now?" asked the Court.</p> - -<p>"You might as well ask for the moon," returned Wilkinson's counsel, -looking the picture of grim despair.</p> - -<p>The Court's eyelids never fluttered as he ordered:</p> - -<p>"Take the prisoner to the Tombs in default of bail."</p> - -<p>"I'll go with you, Wilkinson," declared Morehead, with a peculiar smile.</p> - -<p>As they crossed the Bridge of Sighs, they could hear the cries of the -crowd below—a crowd frenzied both by the horror of the crime and the -escape of Wilkinson.</p> - -<p>"Don't be frightened, Wilkinson, this is all right," said Morehead -soothingly. "You're going to stay in the Tombs until I get you bail."</p> - -<p>"I can put it up in half an hour, you fool!" insisted Wilkinson.</p> - -<p>"But you won't," returned his counsel. "Not if I know it. If you put up -bail in half an hour, they'll find out where it comes from; and if they -find that out, they'll find out all the rest."</p> - -<p>Wilkinson dropped his eyes.</p> - -<p>"Perhaps you're right, Colonel," he conceded. "Do with me as you will."</p> - -<p>"Yes, you must do as I say, or I'll drop this case," warned the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span> -Colonel. "And while you're in here, you're not to talk—not a word to -anyone—do you understand me?"</p> - -<p>"But how long will I be in here? They won't lock me up, will they?"</p> - -<p>"Of course they will."</p> - -<p>"Not behind the bars—not in a cell?"</p> - -<p>Morehead nodded.</p> - -<p>"I won't stand for it!" blustered the millionaire.</p> - -<p>Morehead caught him by the arm and looked him in the eye.</p> - -<p>"You've got to do as I say to the letter, or it means ruin, ruin, do -you understand? I know what I'm talking about. You go into a cell -without a murmur. The newspapers—all New York will talk about it; -everybody will know that Colonel Morehead is gnashing his teeth at the -injustice shown you. Morehead is taking an appeal, they will say; but -as for you, you'll keep quiet in your cage until I let you out. It -won't be long; wait and see."</p> - -<p>They passed into the Tombs. A deputy warden nodded to Wilkinson.</p> - -<p>"That was a narrow escape you had, Mr. Wilkinson," he said, referring -to the tragedy of an hour or so before.</p> - -<p>"I—I should think so," faltered Wilkinson, the cold sweat running down -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span> -his face. "Poor Pallister! Have they got the murderer?"</p> - -<p>"No," said the warden, "and I doubt if they'll ever get him, either. -Still, you never can tell...."</p> - -<p>"If they should find out, you'll let me know at once, won't you?" urged -Wilkinson.</p> - -<p>The warden promised. The lawyer and his client parted: Colonel Morehead -went his way; Wilkinson was shown into a cell.</p> - -<p>At one o'clock that day, one of the officials unlocked the door of his -cell and took him down into a counsel room. Sitting there at a table -was a woman with her face in her hands.</p> - -<p>"Oh, father, I couldn't stay away!" she cried, springing to her feet -and smiling bravely.</p> - -<p>"Leslie—you here—you!" And the next moment he had gathered her in his -arms and was patting the head that rested on his shoulders.</p> - -<p>"I'm so glad to see you, that you're alive and well," she went on -affectionately. "Colonel Morehead told me——"</p> - -<p>"What's Morehead doing?" broke in her father, putting her gently from -him.</p> - -<p>"Turning my stocks and bonds into cash, or getting a surety company -bond on them, I don't know which. Isn't it lucky, father, that I had -enough—more than enough to help you out? The Colonel says you may have -to stay here two or three nights...."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span></p> - -<p>Wilkinson was beside himself.</p> - -<p>"I won't—I won't stay here," he raged. "I'll take the risk——"</p> - -<p>"What risk?" she asked wonderingly.</p> - -<p>Her father sobered.</p> - -<p>"Oh, Leslie, I—I don't know what I'm saying. Don't mind me—I'm -unnerved, overwrought. Poor Pallister...."</p> - -<p>Leslie burst into tears.</p> - -<p>"Yes, poor, poor Roy," she murmured. "It was awful—simply awful! I -was so fond of him, father. He was always so kind, so thoughtful and -considerate, and devoted to your interests, wasn't he, father?"</p> - -<p>Wilkinson merely inclined his head, contenting himself with patting her -hand and saying:</p> - -<p>"There, there, my girl, don't cry."</p> - -<p>For, truth to tell, he was much too taken up with a consideration of -his own affairs to have any time for other people's troubles, much less -mourn over Roy Pallister, though, in his way, he was undoubtedly fond -of the little chap. However, after Leslie had calmed down sufficiently -to talk connectedly once more, he not only listened, but approved of -the girl's suggestion that she offer a reward, a large reward for the -discovery of the perpetrator of the dastardly crime.</p> - -<p>"Yes, I must know," he said to himself when once more alone in his -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span> -cell. "Flomerfelt must find out who fired that shot. Flomerfelt will -find out.... What would I do without him?"</p> - -<p>But the question would surely not have been asked had it been possible -for him to have overheard the conversation that took place, later, -between Mrs. Peter Wilkinson and his confidential man.</p> - -<p>As Flomerfelt entered the house, Mrs. Peter V. Wilkinson was waiting -for him.</p> - -<p>Flomerfelt was visibly excited. He removed his gloves and fell to -pacing lightly up and down the room.</p> - -<p>"What's the matter with you?" demanded Mrs. Peter V.</p> - -<p>Flomerfelt stopped before her, his white lips drawn tightly against his -teeth.</p> - -<p>"My, what a chance for an enemy in that big mob; and what a fumble!"</p> - -<p>"Were you there?" she asked.</p> - -<p>Flomerfelt shrugged his shoulders.</p> - -<p>"Trouble is something that I sidestep. I expected trouble and stayed -away."</p> - -<p>"You expected this?" The woman looked at him incredulously.</p> - -<p>"Wilkinson feared it, too, I think."</p> - -<p>"Why?"</p> - -<p>"The depositors—the mob——"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Was it one of the depositors who—who killed Pallister?"</p> - -<p>"How should I know?" And again he shrugged his shoulders, eyed his -coat-sleeves and his lean wrists, for his cuffs, obeying some unwritten -law, had crept up and out of sight. He jerked his arms again, and his -linen darted once more into view. Again he scrutinised it carefully, -first glancing upon his right hand and then upon his left.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Peter V. eyed him closely.</p> - -<p>"Doesn't anybody know who fired the shot?"</p> - -<p>He shook his head.</p> - -<p>"Some believe the depositors did it; others a personal enemy. Wilkinson -feared treachery, I think. A reward is being offered—a rather large -reward, I think—ten thousand dollars."</p> - -<p>The question, "By whom?" hung on her lips, but was interrupted by -Flomerfelt, who went on with:</p> - -<p>"It was Leslie's idea, I understand. She is beside herself—wants to -avenge Pallister."</p> - -<p>"Sorry about him myself," said Mrs. Peter V., seemingly sincere. It was -only when she added, "He certainly knew how to hook up waists," that -the shallowness of the woman's mind was evident. And even Flomerfelt -recoiled from her when, a moment later, she motioned to him to seat -himself by her side.</p> - -<p>"Who shot at Wilkinson?" she asked, persistently, drawing him closer to -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span>her.</p> - -<p>Flomerfelt dismissed the subject with a wave of the hand.</p> - -<p>"As we remarked, it makes but little difference now. The shot went -wild."</p> - - - -<p>At six o'clock that night, Eliot Beekman dined at the Iroquois Hotel in -Buffalo with J. K. Witheridge, cashier of the Bank Le Boeuf.</p> - -<p>"You were so successful, Mr. Beekman," said the cashier, when coffee -and cigars had arrived, "with that hopeless Cantrell mix-up of ours in -New York, that we thought we would give you a harder nut to crack. This -time our claim is for $50,000, if it's a cent."</p> - -<p>Beekman pricked up his ears. This was worth a hurried trip to Buffalo -and no mistake.</p> - -<p>"Against whom is your claim?" he asked.</p> - -<p>"One reason why we wanted to see you personally," the cashier went -on to explain, "is because there seems to be a good deal of secrecy -involved in this thing. Our claim is against the Tri-State Trust -Company—our funds on deposit there. We want to get them back."</p> - -<p>"You stand a small chance ..." quickly spoke up Beekman. "In my -opinion, Tri-State won't pay three per cent."</p> - -<p>"Admitting all that," conceded the cashier, "it's not the Tri-State -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span> -Trust Company that I want you to tackle; I want you to find its funds."</p> - -<p>"Funds? It hasn't any!"</p> - -<p>"Of course it hasn't, but we're satisfied—and other banks are -satisfied—that somebody's got its funds. And the fellow that gets in -first and right, is going to get his claim paid in full. That's why we -sent for you. The man we've got to fight is Peter V. Wilkinson."</p> - -<p>"Peter V. Wilkinson!" echoed the other. "And you say he's——"</p> - -<p>"We claim he's bagged the spoils."</p> - -<p>Beekman laughed outright.</p> - -<p>"Why, man, he's smashed—ruined! He hasn't got a dollar to his name. I -know him."</p> - -<p>"Indeed!"</p> - -<p>"Yes. And I'll tell you where I think you're off the track. -His daughter has money—money of her own. It came from her -mother—Wilkinson's first wife. I have no doubt that all these rumours -about Wilkinson's cash,—although this is the first I've heard about -it,—come from the fact that his daughter has money."</p> - -<p>"Pshaw! She has less than a million dollars—we have the facts on that. -We're not thinking about that; we believe Wilkinson has got upwards of -fifty millions packed away."</p> - -<p>Again Beekman laughed.</p> - -<p>"If you were in New York you wouldn't say that. Everybody there knows -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> -that Wilkinson is a wreck."</p> - -<p>"Nevertheless we have our theory. We're willing to pay the shot," -declared Witheridge. "Now, is there any reason why I shouldn't go -on—tell you the rest—the confidential details? In other words, Mr. -Beekman, is there any reason why you should not take up this case and -probe Wilkinson to the finish?"</p> - -<p>Beekman thought for a while, weighing carefully the other's words. -There was reputation in this thing; moreover, he felt that it would -do Wilkinson no harm, for he was convinced of Wilkinson's honesty of -purpose. He saw no reason why honest business should be refused. More -than that, this Bank Le Boeuf had, in times past, employed him as its -counsel, and all through dinner Witheridge had been pouring praises in -his ear.</p> - -<p>"I hope you can take it," pressed Witheridge, "for to tell you the -truth, there's nobody in New York that we'd rather have than you. We've -that much confidence in you...."</p> - -<p>But Beekman still balked.</p> - -<p>"If I take this case, I needn't assure you, Mr. Witheridge, that you -may depend on me. The only reason why I hesitate is because I know the -man's daughter. But once I decide to take the case...."</p> - -<p>At that moment a waiter laid down an evening paper before Beekman; -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span> -he glanced at it, revolving the proposition the while in his mind. -Suddenly he started and cried out:</p> - -<p>"Great Scott! The man we're talking about—shot...."</p> - -<p>"Killed?" gasped Witheridge.</p> - -<p>"No—it's his private secretary that was killed." And with his eyes -still on the paper, "No, wait. There's more. Wilkinson is held in -three-quarter of a million bail. I heard this morning that he was -indicted, but I never expected—— And, Cæsar's ghost! They've locked -him up in the Tombs and in default of bail. That's rough!"</p> - -<p>"My dear Beekman," grinned Witheridge, "don't you see that it's all a -game—all but the killing? Say that you'll take the case, then I can go -on—tell you the rest."</p> - -<p>But whatever would have been Eliot's decision at that moment, he was -not permitted to give it utterance. For just then he heard some one -calling out his name; and, glancing up, he saw a boy approaching him -with a telegram in his hand.</p> - -<p>"Mr. Beekman?" asked the boy.</p> - -<p>Beekman took the message, which said:</p> - -<p><br /><span class="smcap">Eliot Beekman, Esq</span>.,<br /> -Hotel Iroquois, Buffalo, N. Y.</p> - -<blockquote><p>You are retained in People vs. Wilkinson as counsel for defence. -Take the first train for New York.</p></blockquote> - -<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Morehead</span>.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span></p> - -<p>After grasping its contents, Beekman quickly passed it over to his host -with the one word: "Read." And then he added:</p> - -<p>"This is a retainer, Mr. Witheridge, that I cannot very well refuse. -You see," he was smiling now, "I know his daughter."</p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span> -<h2><a name="IX" id="IX"></a>IX</h2> -</div> - -<p>Ten men crowded into the office of Assistant District Attorney Leech, -ten men of various sizes and complexions, ten men upon whom sat -undoubted respectability, and yet in whose eyes gleamed a gnawing -anxiety—a strange excitement.</p> - -<p>A deputy assistant district attorney—or a d. a. d. a., as they call -them there, received the delegation coldly.</p> - -<p>"What in thunder is this mob doing here?" he asked.</p> - -<p>The ten men nodded toward their spokesman; he leaned against the d. a. -d. a.'s desk.</p> - -<p>"Chief clerk sent us here," he said.</p> - -<p>"What about?" asked his cross-examiner.</p> - -<p>The spokesman drew from his pocket a folded paper and opened it wide -for the other to read.</p> - -<p>"Ten Thousand Dollars Reward for information leading to the Conviction -of the Murderer of Roy Pallister," is what he read, after which the d. -a. d. a. looked at it curiously, and added: "Well? What then?"</p> - -<p>"Well," said the spokesman, as the ten men crowded closely about him, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span> -"we've got information—see?"</p> - -<p>"What information?"</p> - -<p>For answer he drew forth a weapon—an ugly-looking weapon: a hammerless -revolver, with one chamber empty.</p> - -<p>The d. a. d. a. sniffed with some excitement.</p> - -<p>"Where did you get it?" he demanded. Surreptitiously he nodded to a -uniformed attendant, who as surreptitiously shut the door and locked it.</p> - -<p>"Picked it up the day young Pallister was killed," went on the -spokesman, "picked it up where the man that used it left it lying—when -he ran away."</p> - -<p>The assistant glanced at him sharply.</p> - -<p>"Why didn't you pass it over right away?" he demanded.</p> - -<p>The ten men shrugged their shoulders, but it was their spokesman who -explained:</p> - -<p>"In that crowd," he returned slowly, "there was too much excitement -already. These here saw me pick it up, and we talked about it—talked -about it slow and cold. We didn't want to be mobbed ourselves, even by -the cops; we didn't want to be taken for the murderer—you understand? -So we closed in around this gun, y'see, and we kept it close, till -now." He grinned sheepishly. "Besides," he added, "our savings has been -lost in the Tri-State Trust, and we was kind o' waitin' for somethin' -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span> -of this kind," he pointed to the advertised reward, "thinking maybe we -could even up somehow, y'see."</p> - -<p>"I see," returned the assistant, grimly. "I see that you had no right -to wait an instant when you got this thing in your fist." He waved his -hand. "Never mind that now, but tell me who did the killing. Did you -know the man?"</p> - -<p>The ten men shook their heads.</p> - -<p>"We seen no man," one blurted out, "a hand—that's all I see."</p> - -<p>"That's all we see," assented the spokesman, looking to his fellows -for affirmance, "a hand and a shot. It was all so quick. We asked -everybody; nobody seen anything—just a hand and a shot, that's all."</p> - -<p>The assistant frowned.</p> - -<p>"Do you suspect who did it?" he interrogated.</p> - -<p>Blankly they shook their heads.</p> - -<p>The d. a. d. a. shot out a forefinger.</p> - -<p>"Tell me about that mass meeting of the savings depositors held the -night before the murder?" he demanded, at a venture.</p> - -<p>They returned his query with a stare.</p> - -<p>"There wasn't any mass meeting that we know of," they said.</p> - -<p>He rapped upon the table and nodded to the uniformed attendant.</p> - -<p>"You know what to do," he said.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span></p> - -<p>Evidently the attendant did; for after a short space of time he -unlocked the door, and six plain-clothesmen pounced upon the spokesman.</p> - -<p>"But I didn't do it!" yelled the big man who had handed over the -ferocious-looking gun.</p> - -<p>"He didn't do it!" cried the other men behind.</p> - -<p>"Aw, come on!" said the officer of the law, "we'll lock the whole kit -an' boodle of you up as witnesses. What—you won't? Come on—Come on!"</p> - -<p>"But don't you forget that we furnished information," called back the -spokesman, "that may lead to the conviction of somebody, and when that -happens, we want that ten, y'see?"</p> - -<p>It was not long before the news of the discovery of the pistol became -known. So that when Leslie arrived on a visit to her father, and -asked an officer if there had been any developments in regard to her -advertisement in the paper, she was answered in the affirmative.</p> - -<p>"Father, dear," she cried, excitedly, when they were alone, "listen to -me. I can't sleep to-night unless it can be arranged for me to see that -pistol that was found. I have a fancy that——" She stopped short.</p> - -<p>"A fancy—what?" he demanded suddenly.</p> - -<p>"That I may have seen it once before," she continued.</p> - -<p>Wilkinson called an officer.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span></p> - -<p>The officer took Leslie across the bridge and into the other part of -the building where the pistol was to be seen. Its custodian watched the -girl narrowly as she looked upon it; but she gave no sign.</p> - -<p>"I don't believe I ever saw that one before," she volunteered.</p> - -<p>Back again with her father, she whispered eagerly in his ear:</p> - -<p>"Father, oh, father, what am I to do? That gun there is the very gun -that Giles Ilingsworth had in our house that day. It's the same—the -very same, I'm sure of it. What am I to do?"</p> - -<p>Wilkinson uttered an oath under his breath.</p> - -<p>"We'll give him up, that's what we'll do! We'll hunt him down!" he said -excitedly. "He tried to kill me, and he did kill little Pallister."</p> - -<p>He stood there staring at her, his face growing whiter all the time. -He was about to speak again when he was interrupted by the entrance of -Colonel Morehead.</p> - -<p>Through the lawyer's mind, as he looked at Wilkinson and his daughter, -a number of impressions were passing. The three days' confinement -in a cell had left its traces on the multi-millionaire: a terrible -depression was on him, his shoulders were hunched, and his eyes -lustreless. With Leslie, of course, there was no such great change, -though her lips were trembling, her eyes wide and searching, and her -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span> -figure seemed shrunken. In other words, the shadow of the Tombs -was upon them all. All—the word is used advisedly, for Morehead, -himself, was by no means in a normal condition. Veteran, though he -unquestionably was, he had shivered as if with dread the moment he had -crossed the threshold of the jail. Hundreds of times, it is true, he -had passed in and out without let or hinderance, and yet upon every -occasion this indescribable sense of dread—the clutch of terror, -the stretching out of the cold, clammy hand of penal servitude, the -horribly silent eloquence of bolt and bar—was ever present. Custom had -not staled it; it bit into him with terrible force.</p> - -<p>But whatever he felt, he gave no sign. To-day, as always, he had -merely nodded to the doorman as he passed in, strode down the narrow -passage-way and pushed through the turn-stile. At that point, however, -he had been confronted by the deputy warden of the jail.</p> - -<p>"Counsellor," asked big Bill Steen with unaccustomed caution in his -tone, "who was you looking for?"</p> - -<p>The Counsellor smiled.</p> - -<p>"You have only one of my birds shut up in your aviary, Bill. Obviously, -he's the man I wish to see."</p> - -<p>Big Bill nodded, still with suspicious caution.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Peter V. Wilkinson, I suppose?"</p> - -<p>"Precisely," returned the Colonel, and was starting on.</p> - -<p>"One moment, Counsellor," went on the deputy, detaining him. "You an' -me is old friends, and I don't want to hurt your feelings. But I have -been warned by Murgatroyd. The District Attorney is most particular -about this case." And a curious expression crossed his face, as he -added: "You must admit, Counsellor, that we don't often have a guy -locked up here—worth millions and charged with larceny, forgery and -perjury, all at once, and who's waitin' for three-quarters of a million -bail."</p> - -<p>"No, it isn't an everyday occurrence, I acknowledge. Now, will you -bring him down, or shall I go up to him?"</p> - -<p>Again the deputy shook his head.</p> - -<p>"Counsellor, District Attorney Murgatroyd says be careful, and I got -to, even with an old friend like you. If there's any attempt at an -escape,—and a man who's said to be worth millions and wants to get out -of jail—well, sometimes, locks will turn and bars will break. I don't -know that it would take so many millions to——"</p> - -<p>Colonel Morehead looked straight into the eyes of big Bill Steen, with -that confidential look which had won him many juries.</p> - -<p>"Bill," he said, under his breath, "suppose he wasn't worth -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span> -millions—only a fraction of a million! And suppose he couldn't get -bail! How much would you take, Bill, to let him go? How much? A hundred -thousand, two hundred, a quarter of a million? Come—say the word."</p> - -<p>The deputy indignantly drew away.</p> - -<p>"Counsellor," he protested, "you couldn't touch me with ten million. I -wouldn't let him off for that."</p> - -<p>Morehead's smile was not a pleasant one.</p> - -<p>"Steen," he went on severely, "you'll let him off for less. Oh, yes, -yes you will; I know all about you, one hour won't pass before you'll -be sending a man upstairs to let Wilkinson out. Come, call it a hundred -and fifty thousand.... No? Then two ... two and a half——"</p> - -<p>"Not on your life!" returned Steen, raising a deprecating hand.</p> - -<p>Colonel Morehead fixed his hypnotic eye upon the other, drew himself up -to his full height, thrust his hand into his breast-pocket, pulled out -a paper, and held it under the nose of Steen.</p> - -<p>"Look at that, Bill," he insisted, "and see whether my prophecy comes -true."</p> - -<p>The deputy warden opened the paper, glanced at it and grinned.</p> - -<p>"Quit your kiddin', Counsellor! Why didn't you say all along that you'd -given bail?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span></p> - -<p>"You can send it to your friend Murgatroyd," concluded Morehead, "and -make sure it's O. K. I'll go up to Wilkinson."</p> - -<p>Colonel Morehead, on leaving the warden, was suddenly conscious of a -feeling of disgust. With an effort, however, he shook it off, and there -was a semblance, at least, of a smile on his face when he appeared, as -has been said, before Wilkinson and his daughter in the counsel room.</p> - -<p>"They're going to let you out, Peter," he announced, seating himself at -a table and squaring his elbows, "and right away."</p> - -<p>"I thought they never would," was Wilkinson's answer. "These three days -have seemed more like three years to me.... So you got it through, did -you? Surety Company fix it up ...?"</p> - -<p>"I got the Court to reduce the bail to half a million; your daughter -Leslie and the Surety Company did the rest."</p> - -<p>Leslie started.</p> - -<p>"I! Why I didn't know that I did anything?"</p> - -<p>Colonel Morehead smiled.</p> - -<p>"You assigned two-thirds of your own fortune—stocks and bonds—to the -surety company to secure them. So if Peter V. skips his bail—runs -away,"—he was leering at him now,—"you stand to lose, you see."</p> - -<p>"Runs away," repeated Leslie. The words were like music to her ears. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span> -"What a splendid idea! It would be the best way out of it, after all. -You could take the <i>Marchioness</i>," she went on enthusiastically, "and -steam to the ends of the earth!"</p> - -<p>"Haven't I told you, Colonel, that she was a hard-headed little -proposition," said her father, with a good deal of pride. "Not a bad -idea, the <i>Marchioness</i>. Now, if—if I were guilty, instead of being -innocent...."</p> - -<p>Colonel Morehead grunted.</p> - -<p>"Do you think that your steam yacht the <i>Marchioness</i> is any match for -District Attorney Murgatroyd? He'd find you even in uncharted seas, and -bring you back."</p> - -<p>"It's all O. K., Counsellor," called out Bill Steen, tapping on the -door; "you can go now!"</p> - -<p>Steen unlocked the door of the dingy little room. And as Peter -Wilkinson started to go, Steen intercepted him and held out his hand, -hesitated a moment, and finally said:</p> - -<p>"It ain't often that we have a man of your standing, Mr. Wilkinson, in -our hotel. Would you mind a-shakin' hands before you go?"</p> - -<p>Wilkinson shook hands with a will.</p> - -<p>"Here's hoping that we may never see you here again," said Steen, -cordially.</p> - -<p>"You can be sure of that," answered Wilkinson, with just the ghost of -a smile on his lips. At the entrance he stood an instant and looked -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span> -up into the sky. "Free," he breathed, as to himself. Leslie clung to -his arm, and pressed her hand against her face. They started down the -steps, but Wilkinson drew back.</p> - -<p>"The crowds—the crowds—they'll mob me again!" he cried, his huge -frame shaking like a leaf.</p> - -<p>Morehead caught him firmly by the arm.</p> - -<p>"Come, Peter, brace up, take a big grip on yourself!" were his -reassuring words. "There's no mob, no one who knows you, anyhow. You -don't look so different from a lot of other men."</p> - -<p>Wilkinson shook himself and clenched his hands.</p> - -<p>"I'm all right now," he declared, "I lost my nerve in there." After a -long intake of breath, he added: "That's the last time they'll ever get -me in there, the last time, mark my words, Morehead. There were times -when I came near biting the bars. Think of me being locked up!" They -had reached the corner of the street. He halted. "There was a chap in -the cell next to mine," he went on, "who'd been sent up for five years. -Think of it! He was waiting to be taken up the river any day—didn't -seem to mind it, either. Five years in a place like that——"</p> - -<p>"The machine's around on Lafayette Street," interrupted the Colonel. "I -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span>thought it better...."</p> - -<p>"Right," declared Wilkinson. "But we don't need it yet."</p> - -<p>Leslie turned to Colonel Morehead; her eyes were bright, her cheeks red -with excitement.</p> - -<p>"Why did my father have to stay in there; can you tell me that?" she -asked.</p> - -<p>"The bail was stupendous. I had arranged for reasonable bail; but this -was unusual," the Colonel explained. "But that's not all—the surety -companies had been warned."</p> - -<p>"Warned! Did you say warned not to give bail when they were secured?" -she cried.</p> - -<p>"Warned," repeated Morehead, "not to furnish bail without being sure -that they were secure."</p> - -<p>"Who warned them?" echoed Wilkinson, incredulous.</p> - -<p>"The <i>Morning Mail</i>," began the Colonel, but was interrupted by -Wilkinson:</p> - -<p>"Phew! And who owns the <i>Morning Mail</i>?"</p> - -<p>Morehead smiled.</p> - -<p>"Check and countercheck," he grinned. "Ougheltree and his gang have -just bought it." Turning to Leslie, he explained that Ougheltree was -the President of the Twentieth Century National Bank. "The National -Banks have formed in line to fight the Trust Companies," he told her, -"because the Trust Companies, having bigger powers, attract more -people. And they've opened fire on your father, first, and his string -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span> -of Trust Companies." And now once more he turned to Wilkinson, and -laying his hand on the other's shoulder, he said: "Do you know what I -was thinking just this morning? I think you ought to buy a daily paper. -I do, indeed! This is a crisis——"</p> - -<p>"But I already own a paper," objected Wilkinson.</p> - -<p>"I mean a good one. My idea would be to buy—well, say the <i>Daily -Reporter</i>. It's a crackerjack sheet that's just begun to go down hill. -It can be bought cheap, too."</p> - -<p>Leslie tightened her grasp on her father's arm.</p> - -<p>"Let me buy it for you, father, that is, if there's money enough left -to buy it with."</p> - -<p>Morehead's attention was directed afresh toward Leslie.</p> - -<p>"Let me go on, Miss Leslie," he continued. "There were other reasons -why haste was inadvisable. The <i>Morning Mail</i>, owned by this gang of -national bankers, is trying to poison public opinion against your -father. If we had instantly snapped a bail bond of three-quarters of a -million dollars on the files, the <i>Mail</i> would have charged Peter V. -Wilkinson with being a rich man still, having the money of the masses -in his coat-tail pocket. It was wise and necessary, too, for me to -forestall this. I gave to every newspaper in the city the pedigree -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span> -of the stocks and bonds that you put up, showing that they were the -individual property of your mother, and had come down to you direct. -The result is that the <i>Morning Mail</i> had not a word to say. We've got -to be mighty careful," he concluded, "about public opinion. For there's -a trial waiting for us out there in the future."</p> - -<p>There was determination in the girl's voice as she answered excitedly:</p> - -<p>"And we'll win it, too!"</p> - -<p>Wilkinson snorted.</p> - -<p>"Of course we'll win!" he cried.</p> - -<p>"We'll win," conceded Morehead, "but only after some shrewd -counsellor-at-law—naming no names—has mapped out the campaign."</p> - -<p>"That reminds me," said Wilkinson, "that we must put Flomerfelt on to -this."</p> - -<p>"Never mind Flomerfelt just now," advised Morehead. "Our first step is -to buy a live newspaper and start in. And the first thing that's going -to be chalked up to the methods of the <i>Morning Mail</i>, is the murderous -mob that's responsible for the murder of Pallister three days ago."</p> - -<p>They had started for Lafayette Street, but Wilkinson held them back.</p> - -<p>"Who's going to try my case, Morehead?" he queried. "Which one of -Murgatroyd's men?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span></p> - -<p>Colonel Morehead smiled enigmatically.</p> - -<p>"Assistant District Attorney J. Newton Leech is the man. My information -is direct—direct from the inside."</p> - -<p>Wilkinson literally dragged them across the street.</p> - -<p>"Come on," he said, "we'll go in and see Assistant District Attorney -Leech right away."</p> - -<p>Morehead interposed, and demanded:</p> - -<p>"What for?"</p> - -<p>"Just to—er—throw a sop to Cerberus," said Wilkinson. "Come, come -along with me."</p> - -<p>Wilkinson's cringing manner of a little while before had left him. His -shoulders once more were straight, his Van Dyke belligerent. He had -assumed his position as a leader of men.</p> - -<p>"Both you and Leslie come along with me," he repeated. "I'm going to -scratch Leech's back, and maybe, one of these days, he'll scratch mine."</p> - -<p>They were ushered forthwith into the Assistant District Attorney's -outer office. His private door was open, and they could hear his even -voice within. His tones were mingled, however, with those of a woman—a -pleading, tearful woman, judging from her voice. Wilkinson's card was -sent in to Leech; and the instant that the Assistant District Attorney -saw it, his straight lips widened into a pleasant smile. He came out to -greet the three almost instantly, singled out Morehead and held out his -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span> -hand.</p> - -<p>"Colonel," he said in his sprightly and yet confidential manner, -"mighty glad to see you." And now turning his gaze on Wilkinson, he -added: "I'm afraid, Mr. Wilkinson, that you won't care to shake hands -with me; but I assure you I won't bite—not just yet, at any rate."</p> - -<p>Wilkinson shook hands warmly, and haw-hawed in a most approved and -business-like manner. Leech now turned swiftly to Leslie, and then -stopped, embarrassed.</p> - -<p>"Miss Wilkinson," began Colonel Morehead.</p> - -<p>"Mr. Leech, this is my daughter, Miss Wilkinson," said Peter V., -snatching the words from the Colonel's mouth, and then without giving -Leech the opportunity to make the usual acknowledgment, he hurriedly -went on in a loud, commanding voice: "Now, Leslie, dear, I want you to -tell Assistant District Attorney Leech of the threats that this man -Ilingsworth made to you the other day."</p> - -<p>"I beg your pardon," said Leech, stepping to the inner door and closing -it quietly, for Wilkinson's words had brought an exclamation to the -lips of the woman in the adjoining room, that had reached his ears. -Leech came back almost instantly and placed chairs for them all.</p> - -<p>"Tell him all you know, Leslie," commanded her father.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span></p> - -<p>The girl's breath came quick and short. Her father's words had come as -a shock to her, and she looked about her helplessly.</p> - -<p>"Father, I'd much prefer not," she protested.</p> - -<p>Morehead did not altogether approve of the proceeding, chiefly because -he had not been consulted upon it, and he interjected gravely:</p> - -<p>"Are we sure, Mr. Wilkinson, that she knows anything of the affair?"</p> - -<p>Wilkinson did not deign even to glance at his counsel, and ignoring the -girl's protests, and brushing aside or rather pushing his way through -her objections, as was his wont, with his shoulders, he repeated:</p> - -<p>"Leslie, I want you to tell Assistant District Attorney Leech all that -you know about this man Ilingsworth—all—you understand."</p> - -<p>Leslie, with difficulty, controlled herself, and cried out:</p> - -<p>"Father, this is a—a case of murder. I can't be the accuser.... Don't -drag me into it—please...."</p> - -<p>A dull red, angry colour crept up over Wilkinson's collar, and his eyes -flashed.</p> - -<p>"Leslie, don't you understand what this man Ilingsworth has done? He's -killed my private secretary Pallister! It's your duty.... How are you -going to escape ...?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span></p> - -<p>Leech tiptoed back to the door of his private office and gently closed -the transom, which was open.</p> - -<p>"In order to relieve you, Miss Wilkinson," he now said, and his voice -was reassuring, "I may as well tell you that we have established, -beyond all doubt, proofs of Ilingsworth's guilt. We have people who say -they saw him in the crowd; we've found the man who sold him the gun, -and we've shown him Ilingsworth's photograph, which he identifies as -unquestionably the man."</p> - -<p>"But you haven't got Ilingsworth?" quickly interposed Morehead.</p> - -<p>"Not yet," and Leech fastened his eyes on Leslie. "Can you have any -idea as to where he is?"</p> - -<p>The three dissented silently.</p> - -<p>"We'll get him yet," smiled Leech. "It is rare that we do not succeed -in landing a person when once we start out to," he went on, his glance -shifting to Wilkinson, who met it in open and genial defiance.</p> - -<p>"You—you have time to hear what my daughter has to say?" asked -Wilkinson, and without waiting for an answer, he added: "I think now is -the time to take it down—and——"</p> - -<p>Leech rose abruptly.</p> - -<p>"Miss Wilkinson, you would know this man Ilingsworth, I suppose, if you -saw him?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Yes," faltered Leslie, "I should know the man. But his pictures in -the daily papers—I should never have known him from those."</p> - -<p>"Just a moment, until I get his photograph," whispered the Assistant -District Attorney, opening the inside door; presently he returned, -closing the door again behind him, and advancing towards them he -resumed confidingly: "The fact is, I've got Ilingsworth's daughter -inside there. I shouldn't be surprised if she knew where the old man -is, either, though she insists that she does not, and——"</p> - -<p>Wilkinson grunted.</p> - -<p>"And you're practising third-degree tactics on her, I suppose," he said.</p> - -<p>"Well, not exactly that, but persuasion—polite persuasion, that's -all," explained the Assistant District Attorney, smiling. He stepped -once more toward the inner door, and Leslie, obeying some hidden -impulse, darted quickly to his side.</p> - -<p>"Will you let me see her without being seen," she pleaded. "He told me -all about her—her name is Elinor."</p> - -<p>"Stand here, then," whispered Leech, and opening the door swiftly, he -passed over to the window and held the girl within in conversation -while he searched among his papers, and in such a manner that -three-quarters of her countenance was turned toward Leslie. One glance -at the pretty face of the girl was sufficient to satisfy Leslie that -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span> -Elinor Ilingsworth was in great distress, and taking her place beside -her father, she whispered:</p> - -<p>"Oh, father, you should see her. She's in great trouble, and yet she -looks so—so pretty." Genuine anguish shone from Leslie's eyes as she -now turned from her father to Colonel Morehead, and asked:</p> - -<p>"Who's going to take care of her? What's to become of her now?"</p> - -<p>Leech had returned by this time and was holding before Leslie a -half-tone photograph of Giles Ilingsworth.</p> - -<p>"That's the man!" cried Leslie, seizing the picture. She turned it -over and glanced involuntarily at the inscription on the back. "Taken -particularly for my daughter Elinor," it said. "Affectionately her -father, G. I. Sept. 190——"</p> - -<p>Leslie's eyes reproached Leech.</p> - -<p>"You make this girl an instrument in her father's destruction," she -said indignantly, little understanding what part she might play later -in her own father's affairs.</p> - -<p>Leech, who seemed to take a very business-like pleasure in feasting his -eyes upon Leslie's face, merely nodded, and after a moment's silence he -said:</p> - -<p>"You forget, Miss Wilkinson, that we have our duty to perform. A man -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span> -who murders is not entitled to so very much consideration, after all." -He looked at the photograph in her hand. "If you're sure that this is -the man you know as Giles Ilingsworth, you might tell me briefly what -he said. It is not vital," he went on hastily, "that is, we can make -a case without it. But we want—and Mr. Wilkinson is good enough to -offer——"</p> - -<p>"Mr. Leech," broke in Wilkinson, seeking the Assistant District -Attorney's glance, which he held to the end, "let me be understood. -This man Ilingsworth killed a man in my employ—to be exact, my private -secretary, my friend. I want to put myself on record here and now: -Whenever a man tries to do me an injury, whenever a man tries to hound -me—hound me, understand, as this man Ilingsworth did,"—he paused for -an instant,—"his gun was aimed at me, don't you forget that—why, -I camp on that man's trail until I land him. And conversely, if a -man does me a favour,"—again there was a pause to let the fact sink -home,—"I never forget it. Now, Leslie," he concluded, "you may proceed -with the facts, and tell us about the man who tried to kill your father -in cold blood."</p> - -<p>Leslie's recital consisted of the threats Ilingsworth had made. -Wilkinson supplemented it with his statement as to the unwarranted -attack on himself by Ilingsworth in front of Wilkinson's house on the -Drive on that eventful evening a short while before. Leech took no -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span> -notes of these statements, but merely tucked away the details to be -dictated to his stenographer later in the privacy of his inner room.</p> - -<p>"That's all, Mr. Leech," said Wilkinson, rising, and, holding out his -hand, the other shook it genially.</p> - -<p>"By the way, who's going to try the Ilingsworth case for the People?" -inquired Morehead, hoping to take the Assistant District Attorney off -his guard.</p> - -<p>"Nobody knows yet," snapped the Assistant District Attorney, in a -manner to remind the Colonel gently but forcefully that it was nobody's -business but the People's.</p> - -<p>At the outer door, Leslie held them for a moment.</p> - -<p>"If there was any way to," she faltered, "I'd like to know what's going -to happen to—to that girl inside. I——"</p> - -<p>Wilkinson winked at Morehead.</p> - -<p>"Why, girlie," he exclaimed, "Ilingsworth's stolen millions will take -care of her!"</p> - -<p>Leslie brightened up.</p> - -<p>"To be sure," she answered. "I—I never thought of that. I'd forgotten -all about the fact that he had money still."</p> - -<p>"He reeks with money," added Morehead, returning Wilkinson's wink. "And -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span> -now, for the machine."</p> - -<p>Twenty minutes later Wilkinson stalked into the presence of his wife -and Beekman. It was late afternoon, and Beekman was to dine with them -that night. Wilkinson bowed ostentatiously to Mrs. Wilkinson, and -commented:</p> - -<p>"Overpowered, my dear, absolutely overpowered by your attentions to me -while I was in the Tombs. I actually felt like a bachelor again."</p> - -<p>"How could any man expect a lady to go there?" she asked, glaring at -Beekman, and evidently expecting him to come to her aid, but as no -comment was forthcoming from that gentleman, she concluded her remark -by saying: "Not for the best man alive would I trail down into that -dirty, dingy place."</p> - -<p>Wilkinson groaned with disgust.</p> - -<p>"Nevertheless, there were some women," he reminded her, "who came -there, clad in rags, and stood, stood, stood on their tired feet all -day long, outside the cells of the men they loved. They were wives, -mostly wives, too, for I heard what they had to say...." He, too, -appealed to Beekman. "It's worth while, Beekman," he wound up, a trifle -sadly, "to be loved for yourself alone, and not for your money, isn't -it?"</p> - -<p>The mistress of the house lifted up her voice in raucous mirth.</p> - -<p>"I don't see, Peter," she returned, "that you have any money to be -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span> -loved for now."</p> - -<p>"Hence," commented her lord and master, while Beekman grew hot and cold -by turns at this free and easy bickering, "hence you didn't come down -to the Tombs. But," his forefinger shot out and, figuratively speaking, -touched her on a vital spot, "you made a big mistake! If you'd been -there the artists of the daily press would have had you shown up in -forty different poses for Sunday. I had the devil's own time in keeping -Leslie's face from getting in. But yours—I could have had it in every -hour of the day without its costing me one penny."</p> - -<p>The lady leaned forward in genuine eagerness, and asked:</p> - -<p>"Is that true, Peter? I thought they had abandoned me—left me on the -shelf. But if it's true, I promise to be there every day the next time -you're locked up."</p> - -<p>Peter V. paled perceptibly.</p> - -<p>"There isn't going to be any next time," he laughed. "Eliot Beekman's -going to see to that."</p> - -<p>Meantime in the Colonial drawing-room, Leslie was enjoying a quiet -tête-à-tête with Colonel Morehead.</p> - -<p>"It was the nicest thing in the world, Colonel," she was telling him, -"your picking out Eliot Beekman for—for father. And I believe you're -right. Mr. Beekman is so honest, so earnest, and so convincing. And he -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span> -looks you in the eye so."</p> - -<p>"Um, how does he look you in the eye?" returned the Colonel, meeting -her gaze.</p> - -<p>But Leslie, flushing, had already fled.</p> - -<p>It was hours later, when alone with Beekman, she looked into his eyes -squarely, as was her habit, and asked falteringly:</p> - -<p>"Do you know, Mr.—Mr. Beekman——"</p> - -<p>Beekman stopped her.</p> - -<p>"Begin again," he commanded, "you can do better than that."</p> - -<p>"Mr.... Mr...." she started in, but again Beekman protested.</p> - -<p>"Now look here, I'm only one of six lawyers in your father's case. -Every last man of 'em calls you Leslie—even Patrick Durand, and I'm -going to call you Leslie, too. It's a part of my duties, as your -father's counsel in the case. Therefore, you begin again, and begin it -right."</p> - -<p>There was a moment's pause in which Leslie averted her face.</p> - -<p>"Eliot," she finally whispered, in gentle tones, her eyes coming back -to his, "I think it is perfectly fine of you to help father in this -way. Don't you know," she went on, "you said that night on the way home -from Mrs. Pallet-Searing's, that you wished you could do something for -him, help him some way. And now you've buckled on your armour in his -defence."</p> - -<p>"Hold on there!" called out Beekman, in alarm. "Wait a bit! Is that -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span> -what you call it— my helping him? Why, there are just about ten -thousand lawyers in the Borough of Manhattan who'd give their eyes to -get the job. And, besides, don't laud me yet. Great Heavens, Leslie! -Don't you understand that I've got a fat retainer in my pocket for all -this?"</p> - -<p>The girl laughed in glee.</p> - -<p>"So much the better!" she exclaimed. Presently her brow wrinkled and -she demanded: "Who paid it to you, Eliot?"</p> - -<p>"Colonel Morehead," quickly spoke up Beekman.</p> - -<p>"I wonder where he got the money?" she mused, then she laughed once -more. "Probably my money," she said. "Wouldn't it be great if I were -paying you for this?"</p> - -<p>"It would," answered Beekman in mock solemnity, "because, getting this -much out of your coffers, I should have hopes in time of depleting your -funds to a very large extent, so that some day in the future, having -flim-flammed you out of a large proportion of your worldly wealth, I -should then stand on that footing of American equality I mentioned to -you the other night, and might, in turn, 'with all these worldly goods -I thee endow'——"</p> - -<p>"Don't you be too sure," she said seriously.</p> - -<p>Nor was it given to them to know what the fates had in store for them, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span> -that the time was soon to come when Beekman should be on that equal -footing, to which he referred, and, what is more, that he was to stand -as the one man in the state, the cynosure of all eyes, his name on -every lip.</p> - -<p>"At any rate," she went on, "it's fine of you to fight.... You're going -to fight, aren't you?"</p> - -<p>He looked over her head far into the future. It was all hazy there, but -in his ambitious purposes Beekman recognised that he held within his -grasp the one big opportunity of his career.</p> - -<p>"Fight," he echoed, "to the last ditch."</p> - -<p>"And so am I," she went on enthusiastically. "We'll all fight, and -we'll win; we're bound to win."</p> - -<p>"We're bound to win," he repeated, the blood surging through his veins. -"And when we win—what then?" He looked deep into her eyes; but she -cast them down before him.</p> - -<p>"Let's win first," she faltered.</p> - -<p>If only there had been a warning hand, a friendly voice to tell him -what lay before him in the future! For could he have heard Wilkinson's -words, that very afternoon, to the Assistant District Attorney: "The -man who does me a favour I never forget; the man who injures me I never -forgive,"—he might have thought twice before replying:</p> - -<p>"It's a go. You're quite right. We'll win first."</p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span> -<h2><a name="X" id="X"></a>X</h2> -</div> - -<p>"You ought to have been there, Patrick! By jinks, you had ...!" -exclaimed Wilkinson some months later as he watched the rings of smoke -from his cigar float upwards to the ceiling of the Millionaires' Club. -"I fixed him, didn't I, Colonel?"</p> - -<p>Colonel Morehead thought a moment before replying:</p> - -<p>"I shouldn't wonder if you did, Peter. You furnished the evidence of -deliberation—that essential element in a murder case—the lying in -wait. Yes, your admirable efforts in that direction will probably land -Ilingsworth in the chair."</p> - -<p>"Probably! Oh, thunder," put in Patrick Durand, one of the cleverest -criminal lawyers in the city, "that man Ilingsworth is dead already!"</p> - -<p>Colonel Morehead placed the finger-tips of one hand against those of -the other as he made answer:</p> - -<p>"If he'd been merely one of a crowd of maddened depositors, acting -in the heat of passion, it would have been second degree, without a -doubt. And yet,"—and the Colonel darted sharp glances first at Durand -and then toward his client,—"in my opinion, the star witness of the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span> -prosecution was your daughter Leslie. The jury believed every word -that she said."</p> - -<p>And indeed such had been the case at Ilingsworth's trial. Assistant -District Attorney Leech had made no mistake in the order of summoning -his witnesses. After her father, bluff, arrogant and eager—and -over-willingness is a bad virtue in a witness—had finished his -testimony, Leslie had taken the stand and had wholly removed the bad -impression Wilkinson had made on the jury through his evident desire -that Ilingsworth should be convicted. Moreover, Leech had trained the -girl, as he did all his witnesses, to answer the essential facts, -and nothing else. And to make his task all the easier, Ilingsworth's -lawyer, a hanger-on of the criminal courts—for Ilingsworth had had -no funds to employ first-class counsel, and a prisoner without money -is a doomed man in New York—had wallowed through the trial without -a glimmering of common sense. From the first, as might have been -expected, he had played directly into the hands of the People. But his -blundering had not been without its interesting side—interesting, at -least, to a few of his hearers. For despite the Assistant District -Attorney's strenuous objections, the Court had overruled his contention -that the entire conversation between Giles Ilingsworth and Leslie that -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span> -memorable afternoon was irrelevant and immaterial, and in consequence -the good-for-nothing lawyer had led Leslie on to tell in detail all -of Ilingsworth's grave charges against her father. And it was at that -point, and barely before the girl had uttered two hundred words, -that a reporter of the <i>Morning Mail</i> had succeeded in wriggling -his way through the lawyers inside the rail, and had not crept back -into his place and resumed the taking of copious notes until the -court stenographer to whom he had whispered: "Say, old man, I want -all this, word for word, by two o'clock, at any price," had nodded -his willingness to accept the fifty-dollar bill that he was sure the -<i>Morning Mail</i> must vouchsafe him for this hurry job.</p> - -<p>And so it happened that an hour later the <i>Morning Mail</i> man was -telling Mr. Ougheltree of the Twentieth Century Bank and head of the -bankers clique that owned the <i>Mail</i>, that he had to stand by this man -Ilingsworth from start to finish. And as a result of this interview -the few spectators at the afternoon session of the court had heard the -celebrated Worth Higgins inform the Court that he had been retained to -conduct the case for the defence, as well as the Court's complimentary -remarks in reply.</p> - -<p>But Worth Higgins had been of little service to the defendant, though -he had drawn from his witnesses, especially Ilingsworth, all that -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span> -they knew or suspected about Wilkinson's management of the seventeen -bankrupt trust companies—a feat which, as will readily be imagined, -was all that the <i>Morning Mail</i> required of him. In truth, Higgins had -done Ilingsworth more harm than good. The defendant had deliberately -purchased a gun; had lain in wait; had shot a man down in cold blood. -Not the man he had aimed at, it is true, but the principle was the same.</p> - -<p>"Will the defendant deny that he did the shooting?" had been Higgins' -query to Boggs.</p> - -<p>"Of course he will," had been his fellow-counsel's answer. "He's as -innocent as a new-born babe."</p> - -<p>And with that Higgins had put the defendant on the stand and heard him -deny it—a weak, wabbling denial it was, in reality merely a recital of -his wrongs.</p> - -<p>"That's all," Higgins said, when the testimony was over, and then he -had added in an aside to his junior: "His goose is cooked."</p> - -<p>Nevertheless, at the suggestion of the <i>Morning Mail</i> man, he had taken -all the exceptions possible, remarking to that gentleman's intimation -that the case was going up for an appeal: "A good thing it is, for it's -a gone case here."</p> - -<p>And Higgins had been quite right. For, a short time after this the jury -had filed back and pronounced the one word of doom.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span></p> - -<p>In common with everyone in the court-room, save Ilingsworth and his -daughter, Leslie had expected just such an ending. All through the -trial she had longed for the words that would relieve her from the -thraldom of uncertainty in which she was held; yet when the foreman -had pronounced the verdict it had shocked her inexpressibly, left her -indescribably sad. For some moments she had struggled to regain her -composure, and fearful of a break-down, she had fled, but not in time -to escape seeing Ilingsworth slump down into his seat with a faint -moan. At the door the sound of many voices and exclamations of pity -had reached her ears. She halted, and looking back she saw that the -commotion was the result of some woman who had fainted. And then it -was that she saw, too, the never-to-be-forgotten picture of Elinor -Ilingsworth, friendless and helpless, looking hopelessly down upon -her father while she endeavoured to soothe him with endearing words. -Impulsively Leslie had started back, a vague intention of putting her -arms around the girl's neck, of taking possession of her, as it were, -and carrying her, who needed care so much, to her own home. But like -a flash the futility of such a course had dawned upon her. For the -realisation had been borne in upon her that it was her own testimony, -more than anyone else's, that had been the means of convicting the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span> -girl's father; and that for her to offer words of sympathy to the -daughter would be a mockery if not an insult. It was, therefore, with -a sigh that Leslie had again retraced her steps, forcing herself to be -content with giving the girl a glance of infinite pity.</p> - - - -<p>"Conceding that Leslie's testimony did for him," Wilkinson was now -saying to his cronies at his club, gulping down his Scotch, "conceding -that, but who set her on—made her testify? It was I who bit into that -fellow's heel, and don't you forget that I'm proud of it."</p> - -<p>Morehead stared through the cloud of collecting smoke.</p> - -<p>"I wish, Patrick," he proceeded to say to Durand, in his own calm way, -"that you could have been there for just one reason: I am anxious to -know whether my view of the effect of Peter's testimony on the jury is -correct."</p> - -<p>Patrick Durand waved his hand.</p> - -<p>"You ought to know, Colonel."</p> - -<p>"Don't you think it had a good effect on 'em, Morehead?" queried his -client.</p> - -<p>Morehead rose and stretched his legs, and without glancing, even, at -Wilkinson, he said bluntly:</p> - -<p>"Durand, I watched them closely—each one of the twelve. And, mark my -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span> -words, if it hadn't been for Leslie, I don't believe one man in the -twelve would have believed a word that Peter said."</p> - -<p>Wilkinson turned red.</p> - -<p>"What the devil do you mean, Morehead?" he roared. "Is this an insult?"</p> - -<p>Morehead never flinched.</p> - -<p>"Sit down, Wilkinson," he commanded curtly. "I'm talking to Mr. Durand. -What do you think, Patrick?"</p> - -<p>Patrick Durand glanced over the rims of his glasses at the ceiling.</p> - -<p>"Representative men, were they, Colonel?" he asked.</p> - -<p>"A good mixture," said the Colonel. "I never saw a better...."</p> - -<p>Durand drew a long breath.</p> - -<p>"It looks bad—mighty bad, Colonel, for us," he observed calmly.</p> - -<p>"What do you mean? How bad for us?" insisted Wilkinson, his face still -red with the imputation cast upon him.</p> - -<p>Durand looked at him long and searchingly, doubtful whether to take him -into their confidence or not. Presently he said:</p> - -<p>"It's just this, Brother Wilkinson: If an ordinary jury isn't going to -believe a man when he tells the truth, what are they going to do when -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span> -he deliberately lies?"</p> - -<p>"But hang it, man," exploded Wilkinson, "I didn't lie; I told the -truth."</p> - -<p>"Yes, Wilkinson, you told the truth in this Ilingsworth case, but it's -your own case we're thinking about. There'll be a jury in that, too."</p> - -<p>"You fellows make me tired," growled Wilkinson. "My case—if it ever -comes to trial——"</p> - -<p>"Oh, don't you worry about that! It will come to trial, all right," put -in Flomerfelt, speaking for the first time, and helping himself to a -fresh cigar.</p> - -<p>"It won't if my overtures to District Attorney Murgatroyd are -accepted," retorted Peter V.</p> - -<p>The two eminent counsel lifted up their eyes in mild surprise.</p> - -<p>"You don't mean to say you're going to bribe Murgatroyd?" came in -chorus.</p> - -<p>"Why not?"</p> - -<p>"You've got enough indictments against you already, Peter," they warned -him, "without having Murgatroyd charge you with an attempt to bribe."</p> - -<p>"No, indeed, you can't bribe Murgatroyd," spoke up Flomerfelt, with a -knowing smile. "Though I'll tell you what, Colonel," he went on, "there -is a chap who's not above suspicion on that staff."</p> - -<p>Morehead winked.</p> - -<p>"The hold-over from the last administration?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span></p> - -<p>"You mean Leech?" gasped Wilkinson.</p> - -<p>Flomerfelt nodded.</p> - -<p>"It's better to hear you say the name than to say it ourselves, Peter," -remarked Morehead.</p> - -<p>"Why, then the case needn't come to trial!" exclaimed Peter V., -joyously. "We can get at Leech."</p> - -<p>"Not in a hundred years!" ejaculated Flomerfelt. "Murgatroyd stands -behind these indictments in your case, don't you forget that. And even -if Leech tries them, Murgatroyd will be there to see.... The Assistant -District Attorney won't be able to move out of the beaten track. Your -case will come to trial, never fear."</p> - -<p>"Well, then, let it come," grunted Wilkinson, a little ruffled by the -demeanour of Flomerfelt and his counsel. "But by that time this man -Ilingsworth will be dead; we'll shove everything on him."</p> - -<p>"I don't believe Ilingsworth will be dead," remarked Morehead. "Indeed -I do not."</p> - -<p>"Well, even if he isn't," retorted Wilkinson, huskily, "he's wholly -discredited. A man who'll murder may commit other crimes; the jury will -believe anything of Ilingsworth by the time we're through with him."</p> - -<p>Morehead held up his hand.</p> - -<p>"Durand and I have gone over this whole thing; have looked up every man -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span> -on Flomerfelt's list; they won't stick to us, that's all. Wilkinson, -your crowd are down on you. And what's more, the <i>Morning Mail</i> now -stands behind Ilingsworth, and they're going to stick by him. So if we -make this attempt to unload iniquity on Ilingsworth and fail, we'll -do two things we don't want to do: One is, we'll make the dangerous -admission that there has been iniquity; and the other, psychological -problem as it is, is quite as much to be feared——"</p> - -<p>"Fire ahead," interrupted Wilkinson.</p> - -<p>"I'm banking on Beekman—banking on his personality with his jury, and -I don't want the ghost of a doubt to show in his face. That's why I -sent him to Europe. Of course we need the evidence he's getting over -there—it's good stuff. But I sent him now in order that he shouldn't -even read, save in a casual way, this story of Ilingsworth. A true -story is a mighty bad story, Peter. So we'll cut Ilingsworth out of -this case. If the People produce him—and I'm satisfied they won't—why -we'll try to get him on the cross-examination. Durand and I have talked -it all over, and our game is going to be a game of denial from start to -finish. I doubt whether the People make out the case against you. If -they don't we've got 'em nailed. And if the judge sends the case to the -jury, we'll deny everything the People put up against us. But it's a -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span> -lucky thing for you that they'll believe your daughter Leslie."</p> - -<p>"It's a pity, Wilkinson," said Flomerfelt, with something like a -sneer, "that while you were about it, you didn't swing this thing in a -more careful way. Of course it's too late now. You bit off more than -you could chew that time! You thought you could get away with the -goods—got careless! I've seen many a safecracker do the same thing."</p> - -<p>Wilkinson flushed.</p> - -<p>"Do you mean to compare me with——" he began; but Flomerfelt left the -question unanswered.</p> - -<p>"This is no Sunday-school picnic, and you may as well understand it -now, Peter," said Morehead. "We've got to work for our living in this -case, and you've got to do your share, have got to understand that it's -a running fight from now on to the end."</p> - -<p>"I'll do my part," Wilkinson assured them, burying his hands in his -pockets. "But I want you to find out who the judge is going to be, and -when the time comes, give me the names of the jury, and I'll get at -them all right."</p> - -<p>Colonel Morehead rose to his lanky height and clutched the shoulder of -his opulent client.</p> - -<p>"Wilkinson," he cried, shaking a lean hand in the other's face, "you -don't know what you're talking about! And you might as well make up -your mind now that you can't touch Murgatroyd, and you can't touch the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span> -Court. And Murgatroyd is there to see that you don't touch the jury. -We—Durand and I—have got charge of this thing. You keep your hands -off...."</p> - -<p>"But you're going to pull me out, aren't you?"</p> - -<p>" ... In our own way. So far I've always had my own way in my cases," -declared Patrick Durand, "and if I can't have it in this one, why, I'll -retire, that's all."</p> - -<p>"Yes, you must do as they say, Peter V." advised Flomerfelt, suavely, -and then lowering his voice so that the others should not hear, he -added: "If in the course of human events it should become necessary to -lay a bribe in order to get you clear, I'll attend to that myself."</p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span> -<h2><a name="XI" id="XI"></a>XI</h2> -</div> - -<p>"Guilty, your Honour."</p> - -<p>The voice was the tremulous voice of the foreman of a jury. His hand -shook as it held the slip of paper from which he read the portentous -words.</p> - -<p>The Court leaned over toward him.</p> - -<p>"I didn't catch that," said the Court.</p> - -<p>Once more the foreman drew himself together, and moistened his lips -before he repeated in shrill tones:</p> - -<p>"Guilty, your Honour—guilty as charged in the indictment."</p> - -<p>For a brief moment there was a silence; then the spacious court-room -broke into subdued uproar.</p> - -<p>"Jumpin' Jerusalem, I didn't think they'd have the nerve to do -it!" came from a voice somewhere in the crowd; and judging from -the expression on the faces of the people, this remark was fairly -indicative of their opinion.</p> - -<p>The Court rapped for silence, and nodded to Beekman, the active counsel -for the defence.</p> - -<p>"If the Court please," began Beekman, his face pale, and his voice -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span> -trembling with surprise and disappointment, "we move to set aside the -verdict and for a new trial on the ground that the verdict is against -the weight of evidence, against the charge of the Court, contrary -to...."</p> - -<p>A heavy hand was laid upon Beekman's arm.</p> - -<p>"Hold on there! I want that jury polled!" The speaker of these words -was Peter V. Wilkinson; for this trial was his trial; and this verdict -was the verdict in his case. "Morehead, get 'em to poll that jury!" -Again he spoke as one accustomed to command, and not as a prisoner -before the bar.</p> - -<p>"Poll the jury," directed the Court.</p> - -<p>The clerk started to obey.</p> - -<p>"Now, Morehead," went on Wilkinson in a hoarse whisper, "I want you to -place in my hands—my hands, you understand—the name and address of -every mother's son upon that jury. I won't forget 'em, let me tell you -that."</p> - -<p>"John T. Wyatt," droned the clerk.</p> - -<p>And Wyatt, juror, stiffened for an instant, hesitated, and then taking -a big grip on himself, answered as his foreman had: "Guilty." Every man -in the box made the same answer; but as every man voiced his verdict, -he met the sullen, defiant, vengeful gaze of a man who never forgot, -who never forgave, and each man felt that instant as if, somehow, he -were in the tightening grasp of the big millionaire at the counsel -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span> -table.</p> - -<p>"Now make your motions, Beekman," whispered Morehead.</p> - -<p>And Beekman made a motion to set aside the verdict; made a motion in -arrest of judgment; made a motion for a new trial.</p> - -<p>Wilkinson watched the face of the Court as he had watched the faces of -the jurymen.</p> - -<p>"This is Gilchrist's chance to square himself, Morehead," he announced -huskily. "He's got to give us a new trial, or we'll know the reason -why."</p> - -<p>But Judge Gilchrist merely swept the court-room with a weary glance.</p> - -<p>"Motion denied," he said briefly, and with as much concern as if he -brushed away a fly. He now turned to the jury. "Gentlemen," he went on -gratefully, "you are discharged for the balance of the week—after this -long, protracted trial—with the thanks of the Court, for the fairness, -justice and impartiality of your verdict. Good-day, gentlemen."</p> - -<p>"Wha—what!" gasped Wilkinson in a voice that could be heard all over -the court-room. "Does he mean to say that this verdict is just—does -he, Morehead?"</p> - -<p>Colonel Morehead frowned with vexation.</p> - -<p>"Keep quiet, Wilkinson," was all he said.</p> - -<p>The Court waited until the jury had filed out, watching them as they -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span> -went. Then his glance returned to the coterie of counsel at the table.</p> - -<p>"Counsellor," he remarked to Beekman, "what day will be most convenient -to you for sentence? And you, Mr. Leech?"</p> - -<p>Up to this time Leslie, who had been sitting at the counsel table -with her father, had listened in a sort of daze to the proceedings of -the court. She had heard all the testimony, understanding it as best -she could, and had gathered from her father's manner and that of his -counsel, particularly Beekman's, that the whole thing was a mere matter -of form, from which her father would come out unscathed and unscarred. -The verdict had simply added to this vagueness; but when the Court had -pronounced the significant and ugly word 'sentence,' it brought her up, -as it were, all standing; and half-rising from her seat she held out -her hand in an imploring gesture.</p> - -<p>"Sentence?" she cried out in her excitement. "No, he can't mean -that...."</p> - -<p>There was a titter from the women on the benches; it brought Leslie to -her senses, and flushing and confused she sank back and covered her -face with her hands.</p> - -<p>"Leslie, brace up!" said Beekman, leaning over her, his voice showing -his deep emotion. "It will come out all right. We'll win out on appeal."</p> - -<p>Flomerfelt stepped to the fore and plucked Beekman by the sleeve.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Let me have a word with you," he requested, whispering something in -his ear.</p> - -<p>Beekman at once addressed the Court.</p> - -<p>"If your Honour please," he began, "may we have a brief consultation -among counsel before we ask your Honour to set a day?"</p> - -<p>"Certainly," agreed the Court, "you may step into the ante-room."</p> - -<p>Six counsel and Flomerfelt and Wilkinson—eight in all—filed into the -ante-room.</p> - -<p>"Shut that door, Eliot," said Morehead. "Now, Flomerfelt, what's your -idea?"</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p>Out in the court-room J. Newton Leech, who had prosecuted for the -People, left the side of Murgatroyd and went over to Leslie to offer -his sympathy.</p> - -<p>"Miss Wilkinson, this has been pretty hard on you."</p> - -<p>"I don't understand it at all," the girl answered, turning her pale, -tired face to his.</p> - -<p>"I wouldn't worry," he went on, with something more than mere -professional courtesy in his eyes.</p> - -<p>And indeed Leech spoke truly when he said that the trial had been most -distressing to Leslie. It had been doubly so, perhaps, because of the -lack of the usual dramatic features. Forgery, perjury, larceny, ominous -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span> -charges to be sure, had figured in the case, but their proof consisted -in large account books, private memoranda, original reports from the -State banking offices, notes, stock transfers, in fact, everything to -weary and little to excite.</p> - -<p>District Attorney Murgatroyd, like the accusing ghost of Hamlet's -father, had stalked silent, brooding, imperturbable, behind his -assistant, Leech, dictating nothing openly, but seeing, knowing that no -stone was left unturned. For the first two days of the trial the People -apparently had made but little inroads upon the integrity of Peter V. -Wilkinson; but at the end of that time, some new and powerful influence -had made itself felt: shrewd accountants entered the court-room and sat -at the Assistant District Attorney's elbow; a financier or two kept at -Murgatroyd's side; absolutely unassailable witnesses took the stand.</p> - -<p>It was about this time that Morehead had nudged Durand and whispered:</p> - -<p>"The <i>Morning Mail</i> and Ougheltree of the National Banks are at work. -Here's where our trouble begins."</p> - -<p>But although these two practitioners well knew, even at that early -stage of the game, that the chances weighed heavily against them, not -once did they flinch, not once did they permit the set expression of -confidence to leave their faces. On the contrary, they turned to their -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span> -leader and said:</p> - -<p>"Beekman, the jury isn't even nibbling at this stuff. We've got a -walk-over."</p> - -<p>But Beekman could not bring himself to their point of view. With -growing fear he listened to the evidence of the People as it piled up -against his client. Nevertheless, Beekman had—just the thing that -Morehead had said he had—an unaltering faith in Wilkinson. He was -partisan to the last degree. And so quite naturally his intellect -rejected the proofs of the People. Not that he did not appreciate their -weight, but rather that he didn't believe their truth.</p> - -<p>And what a fight he had put up for his client! To this day Beekman's -summing up is remembered.</p> - -<p>"We didn't make any mistake in getting him," Morehead had told Durand -after the address to the jury.</p> - -<p>Even Murgatroyd had been moved to admiration by his closing arguments, -turning black into white, as he did, because it looked white to him, -and the District Attorney had said to his Assistant:</p> - -<p>"Leech, you couldn't do that in a thousand years—not the way he does -it. And if it were not for public opinion, it is pretty certain that -Beekman would get an acquittal from this jury. As it is...."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span></p> - -<p>And not for one moment had Murgatroyd felt that the case was safe -until the foreman's tremulous tones had quavered forth upon the heavy -air of Sessions.</p> - -<p>During the first few minutes of the time that was passed in the -ante-room behind closed doors, Beekman's face wore an air of profound -dejection. Instead of joining, as was to be expected, in an animated -discussion that the others were having, he had taken a seat by himself, -and was reproaching himself with dereliction of duty. Imagine, then, -his astonishment when presently the little coterie gathered about him -and began to laud him for his good work.</p> - -<p>"You're a wonder, youngster!" they told him. "And you may consider -yourself engaged again right now, if we get a new trial."</p> - -<p>"But they beat me! I failed!" replied Beekman, a look of bewilderment -on his face. For he had expected reproaches, and here was genuine -applause as for a winner instead of for a loser.</p> - -<p>"Thought you were going to get me out of this?" growled Wilkinson, -staring about him; for he knew that these men in some way were -responsible for his losing his case.</p> - -<p>"We are," returned Durand, grimly; but his eyes flashed a wireless -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span> -message to the eyes of Colonel Morehead. And this wireless message ran -about like this: "We are going to get him out of this ... but how?"</p> - -<p>Colonel Morehead's glance travelled quickly around the room in a -comprehensive way; then settled upon Wilkinson, and he said:</p> - -<p>"Gentlemen, I think Peter V. had better be sentenced now."</p> - -<p>"Now! Thunder and guns, not now! Give me another chance to get at the -Court, or at Murgatroyd. I need time—put it off as long as possible," -Wilkinson said, the tremour in his voice only half concealed.</p> - -<p>"Time is dangerous," declared Morehead, with a shake of the head. "We -don't want public opinion nor the <i>Morning Mail</i> to get to work. The -public—except your own depositors—didn't believe that you were going -to be convicted; they believed you to be only technically guilty. -But give the populace two days to consider the fact that you've -been convicted—convicted of forgery—I don't say you're guilty, -Wilkinson—and let the <i>Morning Mail</i> hammer that in for a week, the -Judge is bound to feel the force of this public opinion. It's the one -thing from which no public officer can escape."</p> - -<p>"Let Gilchrist sentence now, and you'll get off with a fine," -interposed Flomerfelt; "that was my suggestion."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span></p> - -<p>"That's the whole idea," said Patrick Durand. "The less delay there -is, the lighter it will be."</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p>Meanwhile Assistant District Attorney Leech had been moderately -successful in his attempt to soothe Leslie. His manner and his words, -"I wouldn't worry," had seemed a guarantee to her that her troubles -were about to vanish. She began to reason that nothing could happen to -her father. Nothing ever did happen to respectable men like him—big -men, rich men. And so she watched with increasing confidence the eight -men file back into the court-room.</p> - -<p>"If the Court please," Beekman was saying gravely, at her side, -"instead of fixing a future day for sentence, we suggest that the Court -pronounce its sentence now."</p> - -<p>The suggestion fell like a bomb-shell in the midst of the crowd. Even -District Attorney Murgatroyd rose to his feet in surprise.</p> - -<p>"I see no reason," he began, and then remembering that he was not -trying the case, he nodded to his assistant; Leech took the cue and -pressed to the fore.</p> - -<p>"This is an important case, your Honour," he contended, "and one that -demands deliberation. It seems to me that it would be preferable to -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span> -defer sentence until—say, Thursday of next week."</p> - -<p>The Court quickly waved Leech back to his seat and addressed himself to -the prisoner.</p> - -<p>"What does the defendant say? Are you ready for sentence now?"</p> - -<p>"I am," said Wilkinson, and rising at Morehead's nudge he stood glaring -at the Court. Beekman was at his side, and extended his hand, saying:</p> - -<p>"Before sentence is pronounced, if your Honour please, I should like to -say a word or two on behalf of the defendant."</p> - -<p>The Court likewise waved him back.</p> - -<p>"I heard all you told the jury," remarked Judge Gilchrist, somewhat -sharply. "You exhausted the subject, there's nothing left to say. I -have the floor."</p> - -<p>There was a pause during which the Court slowly took off his glasses, -wiped them with his handkerchief and put them on again.</p> - -<p>"This is an unusual case," he began, looking sternly at the defendant.</p> - -<p>Back on the benches the crowd leaned forward eagerly.</p> - -<p>"What will he give him?" asked someone.</p> - -<p>On the rear seat, Burns of the Ideal Dairy, who never missed a big -trial, turned to his friend Porteous, the Park Row hardware man, and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span>remarked:</p> - -<p>"I'll bet you another fifty, Billy, that he fines him a cold million -dollars—that or more."</p> - -<p>The hardware man only laughed.</p> - -<p>"Done," he answered. "Judge Gilchrist wouldn't dare to fine him over -fifty thousand dollars—and——"</p> - -<p>"Hush!" whispered Burns. "He's speaking now."</p> - -<p>" ... confined for ten years in State's Prison at hard labour," -concluded the Court.</p> - -<p>The people looked at one another aghast; but Murgatroyd smiled a -smile of complete satisfaction. As for Leslie, she turned a startled, -half-reproachful glance at the Assistant District Attorney, and then -her face went white and her head sank slowly down upon her arm that -lay upon the table. Unconsciously Beekman rested his hand lightly -upon her shoulder, and although the court-room seemed whirling about -his head, he presently found himself counting the heart throbs that -shook her frame. At the table Wilkinson's counsel exchanged glances, -only Morehead and Durand apparently retaining their self-possession, -and proceeded to gather their papers together, and scoop them into -capacious leather bags, shutting the bags loudly with a snap.</p> - -<p>Wilkinson's face was scarlet, his eyes flashing fire. From the instant -of the rendition of the jury's verdict he had been a spluttering -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span> -volcano of righteous indignation; but now, as he glared at the Court, -he was searching in his mind for some torture, some vengeance fitting -for a judge who dared....</p> - -<p>"Do you mean to tell me, Gilchrist," he shouted so that all might hear, -and advancing toward him, "that you've got the nerve to——"</p> - -<p>The Court rapped for order.</p> - -<p>"Clear the court-room!" he ordered; and turning to Beekman he added: -"Counsellor, your client is beside himself. Take charge of him, or I'll -have somebody do it for you."</p> - -<p>Morehead and Flomerfelt pulled Wilkinson down into his seat and held -him there while a court officer stood over him threateningly. For a -brief instant, only, Gilchrist let his cold, judicial gaze meet the hot -belligerence of Peter V. Wilkinson; then he rose, gathered his robes -about him, and passed on to his private chambers.</p> - -<p>Immediately four New York newspaper men boldly took possession of the -bench and got three flashlights of Wilkinson struggling in the grasp of -his attorneys. It took less than three-quarters of an hour to clear the -court-room, but within that time New York was reading the headlines: -"Ten years at hard labour in State's Prison for Peter V. Wilkinson, -the multi-millionaire." As a piece of news it was unquestionably quite -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span> -worth while; and in an incredibly short space of time London and Paris -had it; that night Constantinople had it; the world had it and gloated -over it.</p> - - - -<p>"What are they going to do to you, father?" cried Leslie, when two -uniformed officers laid hands upon Wilkinson.</p> - -<p>"That's what I'd like to know," he answered in alarm.</p> - -<p>"Take him to the Tombs, of course," spoke up one of the officers. "What -else is there to do?"</p> - -<p>"No, I won't go back there! I refuse ..." cried Wilkinson, struggling.</p> - -<p>Morehead laid a detaining hand upon the officer's arm.</p> - -<p>"Wait a minute, officer," he said. "We'll file a notice of appeal -inside of ten minutes. We're having it prepared now. We'll give -bail—renew the bond...."</p> - -<p>Murgatroyd stepped forward and said, clipping his words off as he spoke:</p> - -<p>"I shall oppose this man's release on bail pending an appeal, unless -his present bail is increased to double the amount."</p> - -<p>"A million dollars! What are you talking about!" exclaimed Morehead.</p> - -<p>"I'm talking about the new rule," returned the District Attorney; -"and you know just as much about it as I do." And then smiling -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span> -significantly he added: "I think Judge Gilchrist will do pretty much -as I say. Maybe he'll ask for more because of your client's outburst -when sentenced. If you want to see the Judge, come along with me."</p> - -<p>"And in the meantime, Chief, shall we lock him up?" queried an officer.</p> - -<p>"Wait a bit," put in Leech, courteously glancing at Leslie. "Suppose -Mr. Wilkinson stays in my room until"—he looked at the Colonel -now—"you can give bail this afternoon, can't you?"</p> - -<p>"Not if it's a million dollars. Murgatroyd, this man has got to rely -upon his daughter's money," he pleaded. "We couldn't raise a million -dollars in a month."</p> - -<p>"Yes we can," snapped Wilkinson, the cold sweat standing out on his -forehead. "We can raise twice that in an hour."</p> - -<p>There was an interval of silence in which Morehead tried to look -unconcerned, and Murgatroyd winked at Leech.</p> - -<p>"I thought he had it somewhere," whispered the District Attorney to his -assistant.</p> - -<p>With this proof before him that he was standing in the presence of a -man far from bankrupt, Leech became doubly attentive.</p> - -<p>"I think I can accommodate Mr. Wilkinson in my private office until -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span> -five o'clock," he suggested smoothly. "Two officers can remain on -guard outside, Chief. Is that all right?"</p> - -<p>Murgatroyd nodded a tentative assent before saying:</p> - -<p>"Come, Colonel, and we'll see the Judge...."</p> - -<p>And an hour and a half later the bail had been fixed and matters -arranged by Morehead and his colleagues with the surety company. But -when the Colonel was back again in Leech's private office, he whispered -to Wilkinson:</p> - -<p>"Where's your nerve, you confounded idiot! Now you've given the whole -thing away! If you'd gone back to the Tombs for a few days longer...."</p> - -<p>Wilkinson gave him a look of withering scorn, and measuring his words -carefully, declared:</p> - -<p>"I'll never be locked up, Morehead, again—anywhere. I told you once, -and I tell you now for all time, that they'll never get Peter V. -Wilkinson again behind the bars."</p> - -<p>Colonel Morehead made no comment, but favoured him with an enigmatical -smile. After a moment or two, he went on to explain that if Wilkinson -had kept quiet they could have hunted up some of his friends and had -the thing fixed up in forty-eight hours; that now, after what had -happened, everybody, and especially Ougheltree and the <i>Morning Mail</i>, -would know that he had this money tucked away somewhere; and that -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span> -before long they'd find out where the rest of it was, concluding with: -"Somebody'll get it, Wilkinson—they'll get at it."</p> - -<p>Wilkinson resented, with a shrug of the shoulders, this interference -with what he considered his business, and made no answer. But turning -to Leslie, he said irritably:</p> - -<p>"Leslie, just put your name on the back of these things, will you. The -surety company is waiting for them."</p> - -<p>Leslie's face showed a peculiar change; and she turned the certificates -over to read them before attaching her signature.</p> - -<p>"Half a million more!" she gasped. "Why, I don't own that much, father. -They can't be mine to sign away, can they?"</p> - -<p>"Do as I tell you," ordered her father, gruffly, taking them out of her -hand and turning them face down. "Sign your name on the back of every -one of them." And when she had done so, he said to a waiting messenger: -"There, now, Surety Company, fork over that new bond." And motioning to - -Morehead: "Call Leech—there's his bail."</p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span> -<h2><a name="XII" id="XII"></a>XII</h2> -</div> - -<p>Peter V. Wilkinson was taken to his home in his big Mastodon car. -With him, besides the chauffeur, were his daughter Leslie and Colonel -Morehead. The news of the verdict, the sentence, and the release on -bail had travelled even faster than the sixty-horse-power machine whose -passengers had to fight their way through an impacted mass of humanity -which filled the sidewalk and the street in front of Wilkinson's big -place on the Drive. But then it was not every day that people had the -chance to look upon an ex-multi-millionaire who had been sentenced to -ten years at hard labour and had given a million-dollar bail!</p> - -<p>With difficulty they reached the door, and a moment later it closed -upon them.</p> - -<p>"Where's Mrs. Wilkinson?" asked the multi-millionaire of the first -footman he came across. And in an aside to Morehead: "I suppose the -missus will have a few remarks to make."</p> - -<p>He was informed that Mrs. Wilkinson was in her room and feeling -poorly,—"Very, very poorly," the servant had been told to say,—a -condition of late chronic with the lady. And she had developed another -alarming condition: her increasing avoirdupois, the disappearance -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span> -of the last remnants of her charms, the palpable bankruptcy of her -husband, and her envy of her step-daughter Leslie—the only member -of the household who still had grace of mind and face and figure, to -say nothing of wealth—all these had developed in the lady a latent -ferocity, a tigerish temper which seemed to hold unlimited force -behind it. All over the great house her shrill virago's voice could be -heard terrifying the servants; in short, her sudden rise to power was, -perhaps, best described by another member of the household. "The missus -rules the roost now," was the way her husband put it, and he knew -whereof he spoke. Indeed, for that matter, Wilkinson, himself hitherto -fearing no one, and priding himself in the fact, actually trembled -now during the few moments that he was compelled to be in the lady's -presence.</p> - -<p>"Colonel, you've got to come with me," begun Wilkinson.</p> - -<p>"Not I," was the brief refusal.</p> - -<p>"You've got to come if I have to pay you to do it," insisted the -husband. "I won't go up alone."</p> - -<p>And Colonel Morehead would probably have used an even more forcible -expression of refusal to do the husband's bidding had he known that -at that very moment his right-hand man was closeted upstairs with his -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span> -wife, and was telling her,— with one of his inscrutable smiles,—a -smile that was intended to convey that it rested wholly with him -whether Wilkinson would get off or not,—that Wilkinson was convicted, -because the men who took the witness stand happened to tell the truth -and had ended emphatically with: "The whole truth, and nothing but the -truth."</p> - -<p>But it happened that when they entered on tiptoe the lady's -boudoir—Morehead having been finally persuaded, much against his -will—the lady did not deign to acknowledge Morehead's presence, but -sobbed out to her husband:</p> - -<p>"You did not stop to consider me! Why did you let them do this thing to -you? It all falls on me. The intolerable disgrace, shame, humiliation! -You, a felon, a convict, a common thief, a forger!" One after another -she hurled these epithets at him, while Flomerfelt discreetly withdrew.</p> - -<p>Wilkinson looked at Morehead for sympathy; then he answered with illy -assumed contrition:</p> - -<p>"Yes, my dear."</p> - -<p>"I can't face anybody—not my dearest friends," went on the lady. "I -shall never be able to go anywhere again—never."</p> - -<p>Wilkinson grinned feebly at his lawyer.</p> - -<p>"They say I won't, either, for the next ten years," he said, in -soothing tones.</p> - -<p>His jibe aroused the sleeping tigress in her. The lady rose and pointed -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span> -toward the door. Her gown was a masterpiece of dressmaking art, for -singular as it may seem her income had not been stopped. Upon her -breast lay jewels worth many thousands; about her neck was clasped a -dog-collar weighted with heavy pearls; and her fingers sparkled with -gems.</p> - -<p>"You can go!" exclaimed the lady, stamping her foot—this lady who -would have been nobody without the wealth that this man had lavished on -her. "All these years you've considered everybody but your wife," she -went on. "I've had to bear the brunt of it all. I—I.... The idea of -you letting them send you up for ten years, of heaping all this infamy -on me! I shall sue for divorce, do you hear, divorce!"</p> - -<p>"Yes, my dear," said Wilkinson, again meekly glancing at his counsel.</p> - -<p>"Go!" she exclaimed; then added with commendable melodramatic force: -"You and your paid hireling there, leave me!"</p> - -<p>Colonel Morehead grew purple in the face. He advanced toward his -client's wife.</p> - -<p>"Madam," he began angrily.</p> - -<p>"Come, Morehead, come away!" exclaimed Wilkinson, and he led him out -into the hall where he said: "Don't you know she'd have scratched your -face if you'd stayed there any longer?"</p> - -<p>Tumultuously they descended the stairs and crept into the den on the -floor below. <br /><br /></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span></p> - -<p>"That's over," sighed the husband, setting the decanter on the table -and passing the cigars. And for a while, at least, the two men smoked -in peace.</p> - -<p>Blissfully happy was the condition that Leslie told herself that she -was in that evening. They had assured her after the council of war -behind closed doors that everything would come out right. And now, last -but not least, Beekman was alone with her and telling her the same -thing.</p> - -<p>"The verdict is ridiculous," he said. "Public prejudice, that's all. -The Appellate Division will fill it full of holes."</p> - -<p>"You're sure?" she asked, still a trifle dubious.</p> - -<p>Beekman smiled confidently.</p> - -<p>"Look here, Leslie," he returned consolingly, "lots of rich men have -been indicted and tried lately, haven't they? You haven't heard of any -of them having been imprisoned so far, have you? It's just a bit of -hysteria, but the Appellate courts don't get hysterical. We'll win out -upon appeal."</p> - -<p>"There's—there's something, Eliot, I wanted to say to you." She -hesitated a moment, and then went on: "If I'd been on that jury and a -murderer had been on trial, after hearing your defence, no matter what -I knew your man had done, I would have acquitted him, I know. I think -you're wonderful!"</p> - -<p>"If only our jury had felt as you feel, Leslie," he responded soberly. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span> -"If only they had acquitted," —and he was looking into her eyes -now,—"why, things would be different to-night, so far as you and I are -concerned."</p> - -<p>The girl flushed prettily, but did not dare to meet his glance.</p> - -<p>"We're going to fight it to a finish, aren't we?" she faltered.</p> - -<p>"That's the compact," he returned. "You're right—we'll fight it to a -finish—first."</p> - -<p>"To see you, Miss Wilkinson." The voice was that of Jeffries, and he -was handing her a card. Leslie took it and, turning slightly pale, -started to leave the room. Before going out, however, she stopped and -made her excuse to Eliot, begging him to wait until she returned. In -the hall she asked Jeffries where her caller was to be found; she was -told that he was in the music-room. In front of the door she paused and -considered a moment. Not that she was not genuinely grateful for all -that Leech had done for her father that afternoon, but out of all that -day's experiences one thing clung to her memory more persistently than -any other: the audacious admiration in the glance of the man who had -spoken to her in the court-room and was now waiting for her.</p> - -<p>However, she swept into the room and held out her hand.</p> - -<p>"Miss Wilkinson," said Leech, meeting her half way and holding her hand -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span> -in his longer than necessary, "I had to come here to explain my part -in your father's prosecution. Personally I am not responsible for it. I -am a mere machine. Murgatroyd presses the button and we—I start up and -go through the day's work, willy nilly. I wanted you to know, as I said -before, that I am not responsible."</p> - -<p>Never once did the man's eyes leave the girl's face; his look was one -of bold admiration. He wanted the dainty girl before him, wanted the -things that she stood for: the ease, the excitement, the power that -great wealth brings. Besides, he was assured of something that Beekman -did not even suspect, that Leslie, even, didn't know, and that was that -Peter V. Wilkinson had somewhere millions upon millions, and that the -man who married Leslie Wilkinson would sip the nectar of the gods from -the first tolling of the marriage bell.</p> - -<p>"I know, Mr. Leech, you merely did your duty," she answered somewhat -coldly, lowering her eyes under his frank gaze. "We have intelligence -enough for that. We're not altogether narrow here."</p> - -<p>"I wanted to be sure that you understood my position," he proceeded, -"to feel that my sympathies are with your father—with you. Yes, to -the extent that were I a free agent, and not bound by my oath to the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span> -People, I'd turn in and work my fingers to the bone for your father." -He moved a little closer to her, and added significantly, "for you."</p> - -<p>When Leslie returned to Beekman, singularly enough, she said nothing to -Beekman of the Assistant District Attorney's brief visit; nor later did -she mention it to her father. It would have disturbed Beekman; it would -have pleased Wilkinson; but she could not know that.</p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span> -<h2><a name="XIII" id="XIII"></a>XIII</h2> -</div> - -<p>It was a beautiful day in the early part of Summer. On the deck of -the <i>Marchioness</i>, only a short time ago put in commission, Peter V. -Wilkinson was lying back in his steamer chair, luxuriously. New York -was experiencing one of the season's first hot days, but under the -awning of the after deck of the <i>Marchioness</i>, and out of sight of -land as she was, a delicious ocean breeze made life worth living, so -it seemed, at any rate, to the two men sitting there, ever and anon -calling to the steward, and refreshing themselves with Wilkinson's -choicest wines and liqueurs with which the yacht was stocked.</p> - -<p>"Do you know," remarked Wilkinson with a short laugh, as he threw over -the side an unfinished cigar and lighted a fresh one, "I ought to have -taken Leslie's original advice—ought to have sailed away on the -<i>Marchioness</i> when they indicted me."</p> - -<p>"You'd be in the thick of the trouble, Peter," returned his counsel -sagely.</p> - -<p>"Huh!" grunted Wilkinson, "don't know but I'll do it now, and take you -with me, Colonel."</p> - -<p>"Don't care if you do. It would end my troubles."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span></p> - -<p>Wilkinson tapped the Colonel on the knee.</p> - -<p>"Tell me, Colonel, how much money does that blatherskite get a year?"</p> - -<p>"What blatherskite?"</p> - -<p>"Gilchrist—the chap that had the nerve to sentence me."</p> - -<p>Morehead told him; Wilkinson opened wide his eyes.</p> - -<p>"You don't mean to tell me that's all he makes—his salary?"</p> - -<p>The Colonel nodded.</p> - -<p>"And do you mean to tell me that a man who only gets that much a year -has the power to put away a man like me—can do a thing like that? What -are we coming to in the United States?"</p> - -<p>The Colonel laughed heartily.</p> - -<p>"That man Gilchrist is a marked man from now on," went on Wilkinson. -"His degradation has begun. He sentenced me all right; and I've -sentenced him. I'll see to it that he's hounded out of New York. Any -man that tries to set himself up before me—may stand up for five -minutes or so, but he'll go down as sure as death and taxes. Every man -that's prosecuted me, touched me, laid his hands on me physically or -figuratively, is going to get it. I've got a heavy hand, Morehead, and -they're going to feel it. They're going to know it's me. Gilchrist will -get his, first."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span></p> - -<p>The lawyer sniffed the breeze and closed his eyes in ecstasy.</p> - -<p>"Oh, come now, Peter ...! I haven't enjoyed a day like this in years."</p> - -<p>"You don't suppose I brought you along to have you enjoy yourself?" -bluntly.</p> - -<p>"No, I wouldn't credit you with that nobility of character, Peter. But -I'm here no matter what your purpose may have been, and I propose to -enjoy myself."</p> - -<p>The multi-millionaire received this remark in silence. Colonel Morehead -was one of the few independent men he had ever met. Wilkinson could -never quite make him out, and therefore was afraid of him. As a -matter of fact, Morehead's code was a simple one: he merely did his -duty towards his clients in his own way; and if they didn't like it, -that was their affair and not his. His acquired indifference was his -greatest capital.</p> - -<p>"At any rate," growled his host, "I suppose I'm paying you by the -minute all the time you're here."</p> - -<p>"Presume you are, Peter," sweetly answered the Colonel; "and that's a -pleasure, too, to both of us, I'm sure."</p> - -<p>"Business before pleasure is my motto, you know," resumed Wilkinson. -"I brought you out here to have a quiet talk where even Flomerfelt or -Patrick Durand cannot hear it. I haven't been able to pin you down to -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span> -my case since my conviction. Look here, Morehead," he went on appealingly, -"we'll reverse this sentence a hundred times over, eh?"</p> - -<p>The Colonel, who had been sprawling lazily across his steamer chair, at -this drew himself up to a sitting posture.</p> - -<p>"Now look here, Wilkinson, we've appealed this case, and we've filed a -bond, and you're out on bail...."</p> - -<p>"And we'll win out on appeal?"</p> - -<p>"I was about to remark," went on the lawyer, quietly, "that your case -will go first to the Appellate Division, then to the Court of Appeals, -then—maybe to the United States Supreme Court. Then a few certificates -of reasonable doubt, motions, stays, etc. It will take months, months, -even if they rush it through. There's no hurry about discussing it; we -can take our time."</p> - -<p>Wilkinson was about to speak, but Morehead raised his hand.</p> - -<p>"Since we're talking business, Peter, I may as well get to it, so that -you can enjoy your pleasure afterward." He got up, yawned and stretched -himself. Then looking Peter straight in the eye, he added: "What I -wanted to impress upon you is, that after our last card is played, this -conviction and this sentence are going to be——"</p> - -<p>"Reversed, as sure as guns!" cried out Wilkinson.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span></p> - -<p>"This conviction and this sentence," went on the lawyer, ignoring -the interruption, "will be affirmed." And so saying he leaned back in -his chair and puffed away contentedly. A moment later he added: "Now, -Peter, business is over, let's enjoy ourselves. What do you call that -thing yonder—a schooner or a hermaphrodite brig?"</p> - -<p>His wealthy client swaggered to the fore once more.</p> - -<p>"Do you mean to tell me that a man who's worth a hundred million is -actually going to serve ten years in State's Prison at hard labour? -That's nonsense!"</p> - -<p>"I mean precisely what I say," said Morehead, his voice ringing -prophetically, "that this verdict and this sentence are going to be -affirmed."</p> - -<p>"I'll spend five—ten million to reverse it."</p> - -<p>"Spend it, then, and I'll help you, and when you're through you'll know -that I spoke the truth—affirmance, not reversal." He stopped abruptly, -then rising and plunging his hands deep in his trousers pockets, he -suddenly put the question to him: "I wish you'd tell me, Peter, whom -your daughter is going to marry? I'm interested."</p> - -<p>"What the devil has that got to do with this case?"</p> - -<p>"By the way," went on Morehead, ignoring purposely the other's -outburst, "where is your daughter now?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Home."</p> - -<p>"Then you'd better swing the <i>Marchioness</i> about. When you get home you -can find out if you do not already know."</p> - -<p>"How should I know? There's a dozen cubs hanging around—none of them -good enough for her. Leslie's got to marry well."</p> - -<p>"Has she? A fine chance she has, with her father a convict under a -prison sentence! Come, come, man, why don't you give your captain -orders? I want to know whom this girl of yours is going to marry—and -right away."</p> - -<p>Wilkinson chuckled.</p> - -<p>"Might send a wireless...."</p> - -<p>"You'd get a most remarkable answer, Peter." Morehead was now striding -up and down, nervous, energetic strides they were, for he had shaken -off his tendency to enjoyment. "I say," he went on, "I haven't heard -you mention a word about the political situation so far; you're usually -pretty enthusiastic."</p> - -<p>"How can a man be enthusiastic about politics when he's got the sword -of Damocles over his head."</p> - -<p>"You're going to open fire on Gilchrist, aren't you?"</p> - -<p>"Sure."</p> - -<p>"That's politics," said Morehead, "and now that we're on the subject, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span> -I want you to do me a favour. Wilkinson, I want my man put up for -governor this year, and I want your backing, you understand—your -influence, your money, all to back my man. Can I count on you, Peter?"</p> - -<p>Wilkinson thought a moment before answering.</p> - -<p>"Who is your man?"</p> - -<p>"Um," smiled Morehead, "I don't know that—yet."</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p>A short time after Wilkinson's return from the yachting trip, Leslie -received a message that her father would like to see her. She found -him with an unlighted cigar between his fingers sitting in his big -arm-chair in the Den, gazing into space, his face like a mask.</p> - -<p>"You sent for me, father, and I came," she said, entering, a faint -smile on her lips.</p> - -<p>"I sent for you," he told her in a level unemotional voice, "to find -out something—something that you can tell me if you will. Strange -things are happening nowadays. There are matters I'd like to settle -before——"</p> - -<p>"Before what?" she asked, startled.</p> - -<p>"Before I plunge into this appeal and forget everything else," he -answered easily; but now with just enough anxiety in his manner -to alarm her, he repeated: "There's something that I've got to -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span> -know—something that only you can tell me, girlie."</p> - -<p>"I'll tell you anything, father," she answered softly.</p> - -<p>Wilkinson caught her by the hand and drew her to him, asking so -suddenly that she started: "Who's the man you're going to marry?"</p> - -<p>The girl disengaged herself from her father's embrace. The blood rushed -to her face, and she laughed a little uneasily. After a moment she -answered:</p> - -<p>"How can I tell! He—nobody's asked me. Has anybody asked you, father?"</p> - -<p>Wilkinson chuckled over her reply, though her evasiveness slightly -irritated him.</p> - -<p>"Come," he said, "is it Berry Broughton, or Larry Pendexter, or -Montgomery?" Her father rattled on without giving her a chance to -answer, the girl's face growing more and more scarlet as he proceeded.</p> - -<p>"It must be Eliot Beekman or Tommy Cadwalader," he declared, searching -her face. But still Leslie made no answer, though there was the same -embarrassed flush upon her countenance.</p> - -<p>"Well, can't you tell me who it is?" he questioned impatiently.</p> - -<p>"I don't know," she protested, "really, I do not."</p> - -<p>"But I've got to know," persisted her father.</p> - -<p>But whether she could not or would not tell him, his efforts were -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span> -unsuccessful, for she merely fled in a panic from the room. So that it -was in a voice whose tone was one of defeat that he called out:</p> - -<p>"You can come now, Colonel!"</p> - -<p>From the heavy curtains Colonel Morehead emerged—a grim figure lying -in ambush, he seemed, as he asked:</p> - -<p>"Well! who's the lucky man?"</p> - -<p>"Blamed if I could find out."</p> - -<p>"But I did. Eliot Beekman is the lucky man, Peter."</p> - -<p>"How do you know?"</p> - -<p>"You may think you know men, but, at any rate, you don't know women, -Peter. I merely watched her face."</p> - -<p>"So did I," spluttered Wilkinson, "but I didn't...."</p> - -<p>"Peter, you asked me the name of my candidate for governor," said -Morehead himself in a manner that suggested that he was quite ready to -get down to business.</p> - -<p>"Well?"</p> - -<p>"His name is Eliot Beekman."</p> - -<p>Peter V. Wilkinson looked his surprise.</p> - -<p>"And why Beekman?"</p> - -<p>"One reason is because he's going to marry your daughter. I was -satisfied of that, even before I heard this interview. But there are -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span> -other reasons: he's a partisan; he's taken sides with you; the boy -believes in you; and as long as your daughter sticks to him he's bound -to believe in you, and he'll stick to you, too. Now, Peter, do you see -why I've picked him for governor, and why I want your backing?"</p> - -<p>"There's one thing I don't quite see, and that is your real reason for -wanting him for governor. Tell me that, will you, Colonel?"</p> - -<p>Colonel Morehead took his cigar from his mouth, and thrusting his face -close to Wilkinson's, he said, speaking very distinctly so that his -client should not misunderstand his meaning:</p> - -<p>"Because, my dear Peter, after you've spent your millions on appeals -and bribes and legal curlyques—when you find at the end of the race -that a ten-year term is still staring you in the face, it will be a -deuced comfortable thing, Peter, to know that up in Albany you've got a -friend, a partisan, a son-in-law <i>who's got the power to pardon</i>."</p> - -<p>There was a pregnant pause in which both men watched each other with a -curious expression on their faces. Finally Wilkinson rose and strode -around the end of the desk, and holding out his hand, he said:</p> - -<p>"Colonel, I've been curt and disagreeable in my talk to you. I want to -say now that I take back everything, except the good things, that I've -said. You're a wonder—a perfect wonder!"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Remember, I'm to manage this campaign," warned the Colonel. -"Everything will be done from the outside. No one, not even Leslie nor -Beekman, must know a word about it. You promise?"</p> - -<p>"I promise to keep my hands off," agreed Wilkinson, but the next -instant he added: "Come to think of it, though, I don't see why we -have to do it. I'm sure that my conviction will never get that far. If -necessary I'll buy up every judge from here to Washington."</p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span> -<h2><a name="XIV" id="XIV"></a>XIV</h2> -</div> - -<p>Labouring evidently under the stress of some new and strange -excitement, a man strode swiftly through the darkness of the night. -He was a tall, spare individual, clothed from neck to heel in a long, -loose raincoat that clung closely to his body, though the ends flapped -freely in the wind. It was a dark, stormy night early in November, and -although the storm pelted his uplifted face as he sped along, he never -heeded the elements; nor did he notice that few pedestrians were abroad -on a night that, had the weather been more propitious, would have been -a gala night. As it was, the crowds were under cover. Street-cars were -loaded to their limit, taxi-cabs and hansoms by the hundreds passed -and repassed, so that any time he might have escaped this drenching -by lifting his finger. But the storm, after all, was what he wanted; -it cooled and steadied him; and as he went along he laughed gently to -himself from time to time.</p> - -<p>"I got away from them, all right," he murmured, half-aloud.</p> - -<p>"Them" had been a mob of men at the Barristers' Club. They had -surrounded him suddenly with outstretched hands, dragging him -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span> -unmercifully about. But at last, though this demonstration had made -him happy, he had torn himself away to enjoy a greater happiness—one -that meant all the world to him.</p> - -<p>At the foot of a long hill he stopped and glanced toward its summit. To -him, somehow, it seemed typical of his own career—a slow climb, but -with a vision of glory at the top. And before he knew it he had mounted -the summit and was waiting to be admitted into the presence of the one -woman he loved.</p> - -<p>"This way, sir," Jeffries whispered in his ear.</p> - -<p>With a hasty movement Beekman flung off his dripping raincoat, dashed -the drops from his face with a flirt of his handkerchief, and the next -instant he was standing face to face with Leslie, who came toward him, -smiling as she exclaimed:</p> - -<p>"Where have you been hiding? I've kept the wires going all this -afternoon and evening trying to find out about you."</p> - -<p>"Leslie," he answered, his face ruddy with the swift walk and dampness, -"they piled on top of me down at the club, but I got away from -them—nearly tore the clothes from me, the beggars! You know what's -happened, don't you?"</p> - -<p>For answer she looked at him critically, bursting out with:</p> - -<p>"Indeed I do! Stand off a moment—let me look at you—Governor -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span> -Beekman."</p> - -<p>He laughed soberly.</p> - -<p>"It sounds fine, doesn't it?"</p> - -<p>Leslie continued to gaze at him with pride.</p> - -<p>"Do you know, Leslie," he went on, "I can't realise it—can't -understand why Broderick—why the organisation picked me of all men for -the office. Wanted a clean man, they said—the wave of reform demanded -it, and they didn't know anyone who would fill the bill as well as I."</p> - -<p>Leslie sobered.</p> - -<p>"It's destiny," she said. "You were meant to go up, up, up...."</p> - -<p>"Stop!" he called out with a well-feigned frightened look on his face. -"I'm high enough now."</p> - -<p>"Wouldn't it be fine," she continued with girlish enthusiasm, "if, -after this, you could be United States Senator, Vice-President, and -after that possibly——"</p> - -<p>"The Big Job?" He laughed. "Why, I haven't even been sworn in yet." He -stopped suddenly. "But I want to see your father, Leslie," his voice -losing its note of gaiety, "I want to tell him——"</p> - -<p>Leslie, too, left laughter behind her.</p> - -<p>"Father's in his Den," she said quietly, "smoking his quota of big -black cigars. The poor old dear feels pretty blue. The Appellate -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span> -Division decision...."</p> - -<p>On his way to the Den Beekman stopped and turned round, saying:</p> - -<p>"I can't for the life of me understand, Leslie, why they affirmed that -sentence. If they only half read Colonel Morehead's brief, or even -mine, they surely would have been convinced.... What do you suppose it -is—whose influence is behind this thing?"</p> - -<p>Leslie shrugged her shoulders.</p> - -<p>"Father says that the National Banks have set their face against the -Trust Companies—and it looks as if he were to be the victim of the -clash."</p> - -<p>"Ground between the upper and nether mill-stones," mused Beekman, -shaking his head in genuine anguish of mind. Then he stiffened and -his eyes flashed. "It will never stand, Leslie; nor can I see how -Ougheltree of the National Bank clique can have any weight with the -courts. But at any rate, when this thing gets up at Albany before -the Court of Appeals, all local influence will fade away. Peter V. -Wilkinson will get justice there. The other side are fighting only for -money, but with us, Durand, Morehead and myself, why it's a fight for -life, almost—and we'll beat 'em out."</p> - -<p>Beekman's outburst took Leslie quite by storm. She had never seen him -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span> -so roused, so strong, so fine.</p> - -<p>"You make me sorry that you're Governor, Eliot," she said, her heart -beating fast, "for I suppose now you're unable to be my father's -counsel—or does a governor still practise law?"</p> - -<p>Beekman's head drooped.</p> - -<p>"You're right," he said at length, "I suppose I'm out of the fight. But -the others are just as determined to win."</p> - -<p>"How I wish father could have heard you a moment ago!" cried the girl, -wistfully. "He would then understand what genuine loyalty is. He thinks -every man he knows, and every woman, too, I guess, save me, is a time -server. Every man has his price, according to his idea. I don't believe -he thinks that he has a genuine friend in all the world—not one. Isn't -it hopeless to suspect everyone like that?"</p> - -<p>"How can he help it?" returned Beekman, pointedly. "Just what I told -you about the rich American girl—how is she going to know, understand -the motives of men ...?"</p> - -<p>Leslie's face went suddenly white; then she suggested almost too -hastily, so she reflected later:</p> - -<p>"If you want to see my father, remember he's in the Den." And an -instant later Beekman found himself standing in the presence of Peter -V. Wilkinson.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span></p> - -<p>In his exuberance of joy Wilkinson almost flung himself at Beekman. He -grasped the other's hand with both of his, then clapped him heavily on -the shoulder.</p> - -<p>"Governor, my boy, you made a grand fight—a great fight! You're the -right man in the right place! Proud of you, I am."</p> - -<p>"Now about the Appellate Division ..." began Beekman, but Wilkinson -would have none of it.</p> - -<p>"Not on your life!" said he. "Never mind me! No troubles to-night—only -wine and wassail. All Governor and nothing else. The returns are all -in, aren't they? No contests—nothing doubtful—sure thing—you're -Governor and no mistake?"</p> - -<p>"No mistake, Mr. Wilkinson," smiled Beekman. "It's all right."</p> - -<p>For an instant Beekman hesitated and glanced about the room as though -for inspiration, then his eyes settled down once more on Peter V.</p> - -<p>"Mr. Wilkinson," he stammered, "I'm a bit old-fashioned, I suppose, -all wrong, from the modern point of view, but I've got something on my -mind—something——"</p> - -<p>"Out with it," laughed the older man.</p> - -<p>The Governor-elect gulped.</p> - -<p>"It's—your—your daughter Leslie," he went on, still floundering. "I -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span> -want to marry her—thought I'd ask you first."</p> - -<p>"Ask me first?" exploded Peter V. Wilkinson. "Haven't you asked her -yet?"</p> - -<p>"Her money—I've always been afraid of people with a lot of money, -and——"</p> - -<p>"You needn't be afraid of me," gurgled Wilkinson; "I haven't any left."</p> - -<p>"But the principle is the same," insisted Beekman. "I wanted to be -sure, that's all."</p> - -<p>"Suppose I refuse?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, in that case, I should ask her anyway—and get her too, I think. -I'm merely trying to do my duty by you, don't you see."</p> - -<p>Wilkinson raised his hand and brought it down heavily upon the -Governor's shoulder once more.</p> - -<p>"Governor," he said, "you've always done right by me, and I believe you -always will—I've that much faith in you. As for the rest, I don't know -of any man that I'd rather trust my daughter Leslie to, than you."</p> - -<p>Beekman's blood rushed tumultuously through his veins.</p> - -<p>"I don't deserve——" he began quite formally, but Wilkinson cut him -off.</p> - -<p>"You understand," said he, searching his face, "that your being -Governor makes no difference to me. I give you Leslie because I like -you—I think you're a man."</p> - -<p>Beekman left the room intoxicated with success. Indeed such was the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span> -magnetism of Peter V. that Beekman left his presence, like many a man -before him, with a feeling that he would be willing to face death, if -necessary, in Wilkinson's defence.</p> - -<p>The girl was waiting where he had left her.</p> - -<p>"Leslie," he began and got no further, for the words that he had -planned to say would not come to him. Finally he stammered out: "It's -this way, you see. We're equals now—that is, you're the daughter of -Peter V. Wilkinson and I'm the Governor of the State. Consequently I -dare—oh, I want you—there!"</p> - -<p>Leslie tried to pass him, but he was too quick for her. He caught her -and drew her close to him, and for one instant his lips met hers. Then -she wrenched herself away.</p> - -<p>"Tell me what you want of me, Eliot, quick," she panted, a new, wild, -haunting expression in her eyes.</p> - -<p>"My wife," he stammered, swiftly advancing toward her. "My wife—I know -that you—that you——"</p> - -<p>Her eyes sought the pattern of the Kirzan underneath their feet.</p> - -<p>"You know nothing," she said, her hands tightly clenched, the colour -coming and receding on her face.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span></p> - - -<p>"I—I saw it in your eyes," he pleaded.</p> - -<p>"You saw nothing in my eyes," she answered, speaking very determinedly.</p> - -<p>Beekman paused. Presently he drew from his pocket a trinket and held it -out.</p> - -<p>"Leslie," he whispered, "perhaps I've been presumptuous, but you know I -have always told you that I am old-fashioned. I got this for you."</p> - -<p>"It's just like you," she said, taking the trinket for an instant. -"There's not a man in all New York who would have thought of buying the -ring before—perhaps I like you for it, though."</p> - -<p>"But what will you think of me when I tell you that I had an -inscription put on the inner circle? You had better read it, hadn't -you?"</p> - -<p>For an instant Leslie felt herself weakening as she saw their initials -on the ring. With difficulty she restrained her tears, and it was with -a sad little smile that she now handed him back the ring.</p> - -<p>Then she shook her head.</p> - -<p>"Eliot," she said in an unnatural voice, "I'm not blaming you. You did -only what you thought you had the right to do. More than that, I may -have led you on. But it can never be. No, don't come near me, please, -I mean it. You don't know; you can't understand; things happen very -suddenly, sometimes. I can't marry you, Eliot, that's all. I can't ... -I can't...."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span></p> - -<p>Beekman's face became scarlet, for there was something of the -determination of her father in her voice.</p> - -<p>"You've got to," he insisted, for he refused to believe that she was -not for him.</p> - -<p>But still she retreated before him.</p> - -<p>"I can't talk about it," she repeated wearily, stubbornly.</p> - -<p>"Will you tell me why?" he asked, forcing himself to be calm.</p> - -<p>Leslie gave him a quick glance. His question came as a relief to her. -She seemed on the point of answering it.</p> - -<p>"Yes," she began, and then pressed her hand against her lips. "I -mean, no—I can't tell you anything except—that the whole thing is -absolutely impossible. You would not understand if I told you. I should -never want you to understand it."</p> - -<p>"Why wouldn't you?"</p> - -<p>"Because the instant that you understood it, you would find that you -couldn't understand it," she told him enigmatically. "And yet," she -murmured as though to herself, "it's all so clear, so plain to me."</p> - -<p>Beekman quickly caught her by the wrist. Her hand still clenched -itself, and he could feel her nerves throbbing as with pain.</p> - -<p>"Your father tells me it's all right," he went on, his voice growing -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span> -hoarser as he proceeded, for he couldn't see that he was making any -headway with the girl; "he approves, gives his consent, all that sort -of thing. He seemed glad, friendly. It seemed to be what he wanted. Why -do you hesitate?"</p> - -<p>"I don't hesitate," she answered, though uncertainly. All the time she -was praying that he would let her go. She wanted to escape. All that -she wished for now was to get to her room at the top of the house, -where in solitude she could rest and weep.</p> - -<p>"My father," she resumed, "knows nothing—nothing of my reasons. This -is a matter of my own. Even he couldn't understand...."</p> - -<p>Beekman dropped her hand and said:</p> - -<p>"Leslie, tell me one thing: Is there some one else?"</p> - -<p>Leslie looked down without immediately replying and gradually grew -pale. Then with one of her quick changes she looked up and her eyes met -his in a clear, straight glance.</p> - -<p>"Yes," she said, tossing her head in the air, "there is some one else."</p> - -<p>"Who?" he demanded in a voice that was distinctly authoritative.</p> - -<p>The girl drew herself up to her full height and quietly reminded him -that he had no right to ask the question. But when Beekman had gone, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span> -Leslie's face showed a peculiar change; the hardness dropped from it, -and was replaced by a look of intense sadness.</p> - -<p>At the door of the Den she stopped to bid her father good-night.</p> - -<p>"Well," he called out cheerfully, motioning her to come in, "it's all -over then?"</p> - -<p>Leslie seated herself upon the knee he offered her. She was pale and -very tired.</p> - -<p>"Yes, it's all over—all over."</p> - -<p>Wilkinson was watching her closely.</p> - -<p>"You seem to take it hard, girlie," he returned, puzzled.</p> - -<p>"Yes," she sighed.</p> - -<p>He drew her girlish head down against his breast.</p> - -<p>"He's a bully boy for you, Leslie. Mrs. Governor Beekman, eh? Not bad! -It's a good thing to have money, but it's a great thing to be a Mrs. -Governor, too, and especially when the Governor happens to be a man and -not one of those cheap politicians. I congratulate you, little one."</p> - -<p>"You never used to think much of him," she faltered.</p> - -<p>"True. But I didn't know him. I didn't know the stuff he was made of. -Colonel Morehead sized him up right from the start. But he's the man -for me, now, Beekman is, and no mistake."</p> - -<p>Leslie closed her eyes and whispered softly, her hand creeping about -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span> -his neck:</p> - -<p>"Good-night, father."</p> - -<p>The next moment she rose and slowly started to the door and then as -slowly came back, thinking to herself:</p> - -<p>"I might as well get it over once for all, so that to-morrow there'll -be nothing to tell, nothing to do but to take up the routine of life -again." And when she reached her father's side, she said bravely but -with a little sigh:</p> - -<p>"Father, I'm not going to marry Eliot Beekman."</p> - -<p>"Not going to——" spluttered Wilkinson. For the first time in months -his colour fled. "Didn't he—hasn't he asked you?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, and I refused him."</p> - -<p>"What?" he bellowed. "Why?"</p> - -<p>"I had my own reasons," she replied, never flinching as her father -glowered upon her from his height.</p> - -<p>"A woman's reason, I'll wager. What's the trouble? Some other chap?"</p> - -<p>"No."</p> - -<p>"Nobody else, eh? Then, what's up? Don't you like Beekman?"</p> - -<p>"Yes."</p> - -<p>"Oh, you like him, but don't love him, that is, well enough to marry -him. I don't care so much about the love. We'll leave love out of the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span> -question—it's too ticklish a subject."</p> - -<p>"I like him too well to marry him," she answered earnestly.</p> - -<p>"A woman's reason all right enough," muttered her father. "Talk United -States, girlie. What's the trouble?"</p> - -<p>Once more she clung to him, and said very tenderly, now:</p> - -<p>"Father, won't you rest content, won't you let me stay with you always, -always taking care of you, doing for you—there's no one else...." She -caught his big hand in hers. "I want to go down the years with you, -hand in hand, never leaving you, father—never...." She choked suddenly.</p> - -<p>"You can do that as Beekman's wife," he persisted.</p> - -<p>"I shall not be Beekman's wife," she insisted, strangling a sigh.</p> - -<p>"I want to know the reason," he demanded, with that veiled threat in -his tone which never failed of its results.</p> - -<p>"Will you forgive if I tell you?"</p> - -<p>"I won't forgive you if you don't!"</p> - -<p>Leslie drew herself away and leaned against the door as though for -support, for strength.</p> - -<p>"Father, Eliot Beekman wouldn't ask me to marry him until he had made -a position? for himself, had something to offer me. He has said it a -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span> -thousand times. He's got pride—too much pride, it seems to me. But -I've got pride, too. Months ago I would have married Eliot—he didn't -know that—any time he asked me. It's got beyond me now. He's got -everything to offer me, I've got nothing in return to offer him."</p> - -<p>"Nonsense, child! You've got money," protested her father, puzzled, "at -least you have so long as I don't jump the bail."</p> - -<p>"Oh, how I wish you would!" she cried, startled into sudden ecstasy -by the thought. Then she went on: "Money, what is money to me? What -was it to Eliot? Nothing save an obstacle. That isn't it; you haven't -understood; and to tell you I've got to hurt—I've got to say things -that—oh, don't misunderstand me, please...."</p> - -<p>"I'll misunderstand you if you don't go on," blurted out Wilkinson, -unfeelingly. "Quick, now!"</p> - -<p>"Why won't you understand, father, that it's because he has everything -to offer, while I have nothing. He's been given the highest office that -the State has to give—a position that he thought would entitle him to -me—and I, who am I ...?"</p> - -<p>"You're the woman he wants, the woman he's earned, girlie," said her -father, his voice softening.</p> - -<p>"I am the daughter of a convict," she went on swiftly, her tones -cutting into the air like frost.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span></p> - -<p>Her father stared at her aghast for an instant. Then he slowly -returned to his seat at his desk and slumped into it heavily, and -groaned.</p> - -<p>"Ye gods, but you're harsh!" he cried.</p> - -<p>"You wanted to know why," she answered, "and now you do not -understand—you're everything to me, everything, father. But the -reason—the world, the people of whom Eliot is going to be governor, -they look only on the record, and I'm not his equal. Upon me rests this -taint—I'm not complaining—I'm glad to stand by you, father.... But I -have pride—how can I, with this disgrace upon us, give myself to Eliot -Beekman?"</p> - -<p>"Nonsense, girl," said Wilkinson, pulling himself together, "I'll get -clear all right."</p> - -<p>"When you do," she declared with a faint smile, "and if he then asks -me, I'll take him. If he does not...." A sigh of misery escaped her.</p> - -<p>"You're a little fool! Confound it, Leslie, this thing was all cut -and——" He checked himself suddenly, remembering his promise to the -Colonel.</p> - -<p>"Cut and dried," she echoed in surprise.</p> - -<p>"Yes, this National Bank conspiracy," he mumbled in confusion, "the -courts here in the city are backing them up. But up there in Albany, -I'll get free, you'll see." And now with a sudden change of manner, he -continued: "Look here, Leslie, I've got reasons, too—reasons a darned -sight better than yours, why I want you to marry Eliot Beekman. Never -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span> -mind what they are. The fact is, I want you to be settled—I want it -all fixed.... I give you my word—the Colonel will give you his word -that I shall get clear. We know it, we've got it fixed.... It's all -right—there can't be a slip up. And now, besides my freedom, which -I'm going to get, there's only one thing in the world that I want, and -that is that you marry Eliot Beekman. Good heavens, girl, can't you -see—don't you see that this thing is vital to me? I'm no woman, and -I don't speak at random. You've got to marry Eliot Beekman; if you -don't——"</p> - -<p>"But I can't," she returned simply; and from this decision there seemed -no appeal. "I can't accept him now, father."</p> - -<p>Leslie rose and made a movement to go. But Wilkinson, feeling as though -the hangman's noose was already settling about his neck, snatched up -the receiver on his desk with one hand, while with the other he made an -authoritative gesture for the girl to resume her seat.</p> - -<p>"Is Mr. Flomerfelt in the house?" he called through the instrument.</p> - -<p>A look of pained surprise and annoyance at once crossed Leslie's face. -Heedless of it Wilkinson spoke again.</p> - -<p>"In the library, you say? Give me that room and be quick about it."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222"></a></span></p> - -<p>There was a pause in which the eyes of both father and daughter -plainly showed to each other the strength of the will that lay behind -them.</p> - -<p>"Hello—Hello," called Wilkinson, "is that you, Flomerfelt?"</p> - -<p>"............"</p> - -<p>"Look here, Flomerfelt, had you an idea that Beekman——" Then, -parenthetically, to Leslie, who was beating against her father's -intentions to betray her confidences with as much success as a bird -beating against the bars of its cage: "Of course, I'll tell him. Do -you think for one moment that the wishes of a silly girl like you will -be allowed to stand in the way of our well-laid plans—not much!" -Then through the phone: "Yes, this is Peter V. and.... Well, he has, -and Leslie has refused him.... What's that?... Yes, he's gone.... No, -she's here with me.... All right, I will." And with that he hung up the -receiver, and turning round and facing the girl he announced: "Now, -young woman, you will listen to my final word in this matter." But that -word was not spoken, for at that moment there came a knock at the door -and Jeffries, entering, announced a visitor for Miss Wilkinson.</p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span> -<h2><a name="XV" id="XV"></a>XV</h2> -</div> - -<p>There was a flush on the face of Elinor Ilingsworth as she left the -office of J. Newton Leech. For the hundred and first time, perhaps, -she had crept into the presence of the Assistant District Attorney, -trusting that he might have some good news for her. Her father was her -only relative; she had no friends in New York; and her money was nearly -gone. At first, when she had gone to the Tombs to see her father, the -authorities had permitted her to have her talks with him in the counsel -room, where Leslie had seen her father, but as the weeks passed into -months, things changed, and it ended in Elinor's sitting on the outside -of a cell, holding her father's hand between the bars. And as they sat -there with bowed heads her father had told her, not once, but a hundred -times, that he was guiltless of the murder of Roy Pallister. And Elinor -believed and felt that some day the truth would be known. Every hour, -therefore, when it was possible she spent in going to and fro, between -the offices of Worth Higgins and Assistant District Attorney Leech. -Singularly enough, she received more encouragement from the latter than -the former; indeed, Higgins gave her but little hope. Nor did he tell -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span> -her that a wealthy newspaper, for ulterior purposes, was employing -him to fight for her father. Enthusiastic always at the crisis of a -litigation, Worth Higgins, for some reason or other, had become cool, -surly, sharp to Elinor, as time went on. Her visits annoyed him; he -rebuffed her as often as he could. Leech, on the other hand, had been -by no means chary of his promises to help her through her troubles; -on the contrary, he was ever profuse, when the woman in question was -pretty, and Elinor Ilingsworth was unquestionably pretty.</p> - -<p>"I like to come here after seeing that old bear," Elinor had often said -to the Assistant District Attorney. "Mr. Higgins is beginning to hate -the sight of me."</p> - -<p>"You see that I do not," invariably would be his answer; and, waving -her to a seat, he would take one beside her and the two would chat.</p> - -<p>Elinor was forced to admit that Leech became nicer as time went on. -Always he suggested new hopes, new speculations, for he saw that -it took but little to encourage her. He explained to her carefully -the quasi-judicial nature of his office, how the District Attorney -in theory was neither for nor against the criminal, but was always -anxious, ready and willing to learn the truth. Soon he began to note -that the girl grew shabbier in appearance day after day; that her face -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span> -was thinning, and that her eyes were dark and lustrous.</p> - -<p>"I'll do what I can," he had told her time and time again, his pulse -quickening as he felt the pressure of her hand.</p> - -<p>And Elinor would go forth, refreshed and strengthened; while Leech, -settling himself comfortably back in his chair, would light a cigar, -and fall to wondering when and what the end of it all would be.</p> - -<p>"A pretty girl," he often reflected, "a mighty pretty girl. And, oh, -such eyes!"</p> - -<p>It was upon just such an occasion as this that Elinor went back to -the Tombs more than ordinarily encouraged, and sought her father's -presence. She sat down beside him and poured out to him her hopes. When -she had finished he bent over her slender hand and his mouth quivered -while the hot tears dropped from his working face.</p> - -<p>"We've lost," he told her, in a voice filled with despair. "I heard it -only a few moments ago."</p> - -<p>"It can't be true," she replied incredulously, and with just the -glimmer of a smile on her face. "Why, I've just left Mr. Leech, and he -said nothing of it."</p> - -<p>But nevertheless it was true. The old man handed her Higgins' letter, -which she read; it verified what her father had told her.</p> - -<p>"I've worked so hard," she faltered, leaning her head against the bars -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span> -and sobbing silently as though her heart would break, "so very, very -hard."</p> - -<p>Ilingsworth drew a long sigh—a sigh that had behind it the regret of -years.</p> - -<p>"It's all my fault," he said through the tears that rolled down his -cheeks, "for being such a fool as to——"</p> - -<p>"As to——" she repeated slowly.</p> - -<p>"As to do anything at all," he finished. "Everything, everything I've -done," he continued sadly, "has been the act of a fool. And now I'm -going to die a fool's death. I wouldn't care if it wasn't for you, -child. But you—how are you going to get along? How are you going to -get along without money?" he concluded, breaking down completely.</p> - -<p>"I have enough," she answered consolingly; "don't mind me."</p> - -<p>But in truth Elinor Ilingsworth had only enough money to pay for a -sleeping place, and was at her wits' end to obtain sufficient food.</p> - -<p>"I'm all right, all right, father," she kept on insisting to her -father's upbraiding of himself, now smiling through the tears which -with difficulty she kept back, now patting his hand affectionately, -always cheering him up.</p> - -<p>"You're a brave girl," he told her, when their interview was over, and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span> -pressed her hand for a long time to his lips.</p> - -<p>As Elinor was about to leave the Tombs, a young woman looking very much -embarrassed slowly emerged from a recess in which there was a crowd of -waiting visitors, and came towards her, saying:</p> - -<p>"You are Miss Ilingsworth?"</p> - -<p>Elinor shot a quick, distrustful glance toward the intruder, who, -somehow, seemed very queenly to her, although there was nothing -expensive about the woman's garments. She was dressed in simple black -clothes. Elinor had hear of Tombs' angels, and presently decided that -the woman must be one of them.</p> - -<p>"Yes," she answered, wondering what she wanted of her.</p> - -<p>"You don't know me," went on the woman, "but I have heard of you -from—from friends of mine—that is, the Wilkinsons."</p> - -<p>"You refer to the Peter V. Wilkinsons, I suppose," returned Elinor, -icily; and without waiting for an answer added: "They are no friends -of mine, and you must excuse me.... You can't possibly have anything -of interest to say to me," she finished, and started to go. But the -stranger, advancing in such a way as to bar her passage, pleaded for a -hearing.</p> - -<p>"I know that," she explained. "But I merely wanted to get your -attention, wanted some excuse for my interference. I wanted to help -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span> -you, if I could. I know more about New York—all about New York. I can -assist you in many ways. Won't you let me?" she concluded insistently.</p> - -<p>Elinor was all attention.</p> - -<p>"You mean that you can help my father?" she inquired.</p> - -<p>The woman appeared to hesitate. At length she whispered "Yes."</p> - -<p>"But how can you?"</p> - -<p>"In many ways. I might be able to find some clue—anyhow, I want to -help—him, of course, but particularly you."</p> - -<p>Elinor looked dubious; nevertheless she suggested:</p> - -<p>"Perhaps you'll come back and talk to him."</p> - -<p>Her new acquaintance shook her head.</p> - -<p>"Not now. But isn't there something I can do for you? Don't you -need——"</p> - -<p>"Money?" Elinor said, taking the words out of the other's mouth. -"We have money, thank you," and added half hurriedly, half in -embarrassment: "Will you excuse me if I leave you. I have an engagement -with our lawyer, and I'm late."</p> - -<p>The stranger laid her hand on Elinor's sleeve, and persisted:</p> - -<p>"But can't I come and see you—won't you tell me where you live?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span></p> - -<p>There was something in the tone and action of the woman that Elinor -resented, though she didn't know just what it was.</p> - -<p>"Really, I don't know what to say."</p> - -<p>"I'm sorry you're suspicious of me. I wish I could prove to you that -I'm sincere. Please tell me where I can see you."</p> - -<p>"To-morrow, then, here," was Elinor's answer, and finally tore herself -away.</p> - -<p>The moment she entered Leech's office, he broke out with:</p> - -<p>"You haven't lunched, I know. Come on, Miss Ilingsworth, we'll lunch -together."</p> - -<p>"I can't do that, Mr. Leech, I've lunched already," she told him. But -Leech saw clearly the falsity of this statement in the pallor of the -girl's skin, in the hunger in her eyes. And, in the end, as he had -planned, she consented to go with him. As they sat at one of Raphael's -small tables she confided to him how she had been accosted by a strange -woman. At first Leech seemed to regard the incident as not worthy of -attention; but on second thoughts he warned Elinor not to see the woman -again. And his motive in doing this was by no means a disinterested -one, for so clearly and faithfully had Elinor reported the conversation -between the stranger and herself, that the Assistant District Attorney -could not fail to believe that Elinor had, in reality, found a friend.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span></p> - -<p>"One has got to be so careful here in New York of everybody," he -remarked with an admirable assumption of solicitude.</p> - -<p>But true to her promise, the woman came to the Tombs the next day. And -on seeing Elinor she came quickly toward her with outstretched hand; -but the other merely shook her head and passed on inside. She felt -independent of any outside aid now; for the attitude of Leech was most -encouraging. And there was unusual happiness in her look, an infectious -tone in her laugh as she said to her father:</p> - -<p>"I know you'll get off somehow."</p> - -<p>On the next day and the day after that, Elinor noted the woman still -waiting at her post, still hoping, evidently, that Elinor would speak -to her; and on each of these days Giles Ilingsworth felt the buoyancy -in his daughter's manner.</p> - -<p>"You're like a bit of sunshine in this place," he said.</p> - -<p>On the third day, at sunset, he sent for the deputy.</p> - -<p>"Deputy," said the old man, clutching his coat-sleeve pitifully through -the bars, "I—my daughter hasn't been here to-day."</p> - -<p>"I know," answered the other. "I've missed her, too."</p> - -<p>"She must be ill," the old man said. "Is there any way of finding out? -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span> -I have some money with me...."</p> - -<p>They sent a messenger to Elinor's room; but the messenger returned with -the information that she was not in. All that night Ilingsworth paced -his narrow cell; but with the morning sun came new hopes.</p> - -<p>"She'll be here to-day," he assured himself.</p> - -<p>But she didn't come that day either. When his meals were brought to him -he refused to eat. And again all that night he paced his cell. He was -inconsolable.</p> - -<p>Five more days passed without Ilingsworth having received word from his -daughter, but then, just when it seemed that he could bear the suspense -no longer, the deputy came to him and said:</p> - -<p>"There's a lady downstairs who knows your daughter. She's been here -every day, came just to see her. She wants to help—wants her address. -Shall I give it to her?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, yes," exclaimed the old man, eagerly.</p> - -<p>In a little while the woman returned and told the deputy that Miss -Ilingsworth had moved, had taken all her things, had gone, they didn't -know where; and the warden repeated her words to the poor old man -before whom lay many nights yet of sleeplessness and agony.</p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span> -<h2><a name="XVI" id="XVI"></a>XVI</h2> -</div> - -<p>"I believe I once remarked to you, Mrs. Peter V., that I needed you," -said Flomerfelt, his fingers stealthily groping into the depth of his -sleeves for his cuffs, and when they were arranged to his satisfaction, -he added: "to manage Peter V. It seems that I was mistaken."</p> - -<p>"And you don't need me?" asked Mrs. Wilkinson anxiously. For the lady -feared Flomerfelt, and realised that he was a dangerous man. In some -way or other she considered him responsible for the attempt on her -husband's life, which ended in the killing of Roy Pallister. She had -never lost confidence in Flomerfelt's ability to win the battle that -he and she were waging against her husband. There had been a time, it -must be acknowledged, when she had looked up to and admired Wilkinson, -but that feeling had long since passed off and had been replaced by one -of tolerance and fear. Now she despised the man—despised him the more -because she believed that Flomerfelt would circumvent him. A poor judge -of character, as she was—a woman whose only end and aim in life was -to feed her own desires—she saw nothing save unsuccessful clumsiness -in Wilkinson's move at this time, and had naught but admiration for -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span> -Flomerfelt's promised finesse.</p> - -<p>"You do need me?" she asked, taking refuge in tears. And she was -rewarded by a sudden half-reluctant change in his manner, for he said -soothingly:</p> - -<p>"I suppose I do, but not as far as your husband is concerned. Peter V., -in or out of prison, is sewed up, done up; he's in our hands. Our fight -is with a woman." And even before the last word was spoken he noted -that she seemed to be impressing upon herself the possibility of such a -contingency. "I suppose you know," he went on, "did Peter V. tell you -that Leslie had refused Governor Beekman?"</p> - -<p>"The girl's a fool!" exclaimed her step-mother. "If she halts at -marrying a governor—I'd marry Beekman—I'd marry any governor in the -land! I've been all wrong in thinking that money will do everything in -New York! A millionaire's wife is nobody, unless.... Now if I were a -statesman's wife, they'd have to recognise me—I'd show them!"</p> - -<p>"You don't suppose that she wants <i>me</i>, do you?" Flomerfelt said, -putting into his voice as much tenderness as he dared.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Peter V. shook her head, laughing scornfully in spite of herself.</p> - -<p>"Some day, perhaps, we can make her like you, when I'm through liking -you myself," she replied.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span></p> - -<p>"You?" scowled Flomerfelt.</p> - -<p>The woman shivered at his tone.</p> - -<p>"What reason does she give?" she asked, wisely changing the subject.</p> - -<p>Then Flomerfelt went on to explain with a grim smile what he thought of -the deep-laid plans of Colonel Morehead, the schemes of Wilkinson and -how they had all gone for naught, ending with:</p> - -<p>"She's a born fighter, that Leslie, and it's she that we're up against, -and not Wilkinson. Now the sooner Peter V. wins his fight, the better -for us; but this minx is blocking him, though I admire her for it, I -must say."</p> - -<p>"We'll make her marry Beekman," declared Mrs. Peter V.</p> - -<p>The woman's confidence in her own powers brought a sarcastic smile to -his lips.</p> - -<p>"It isn't a part of my game that she shall marry him," he argued. "The -essential thing is that she shall engage herself to him. I say that she -will never marry him."</p> - -<p>"But Beekman can't be put out of the way as easily as——"</p> - -<p>"There has been too much blundering already," said Flomerfelt, -gloatingly, for the look of fear in her eyes had not escaped him. For -a moment that seemed minutes they were silent. Finally Flomerfelt -announced: "The long and short of it is that I don't intend that this -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span> -Beekman shall marry her, and you've got to help me."</p> - -<p>"Of course," said the lady, rejoicing that at last her services would -be brought into play. "But how? What would you suggest?"</p> - -<p>" ... That you go and see him secretly," he told her, and then -proceeded to unfold his plan of what she should say to him.</p> - -<p>"You'll go now?" he asked, observing the readiness in which she lent -herself to his scheme, "and I'll go with you, that is, part way."</p> - -<p>And in no way concerned as to the outcome of her dishonourable -action—so confident was she of Flomerfelt's ability to carry out any -project that he might undertake—Mrs. Peter V., without the slightest -compunction, swept out of the room to make ready for their little -excursion to Beekman's apartments. In a surprisingly short space of -time she came back arrayed in a long fur motor-coat and a hat perched -upon her head with a rakishness that she thought quite smart, but -which, in reality, had not the remotest chance of success unless worn -by a very young and pretty girl. And notwithstanding the fact that -her eyes were over-bright, as were her cheeks, there was no lack -of self-satisfaction in the manner in which she carried herself as -together they passed out through the entrance door, stepped into her -limousine, and were off.</p> - -<p>But scarcely had the limousine passed out of sight of the house than -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span> -Jeffries was summoned to the door once more.</p> - -<p>"It's Mr. Beekman back again, Miss Leslie," were the words with which -the butler interrupted Wilkinson's insistence that Leslie should listen -to his final command; "and he says that he must see you at once."</p> - -<p>Wilkinson's eyes gleamed as he snapped out:</p> - -<p>"See him again, Leslie, and patch things up. Mind you, if you don't -take him, I'll drag you to him and make you."</p> - -<p>Frightened lest he should see Beekman before she saw him herself, for -she realised that her father was desperate for some unknown reason and -quite capable of carrying out his threat, Leslie swept on past Jeffries -and into the room where Beekman was waiting, his eyes bright with a new -hope.</p> - -<p>"Idiot that I was, Leslie," he began breathlessly, "I was half way home -before I came to my senses. Then in a flash I saw it all—no, you can't -fool me this time. The whole trouble is your father's troubles. Come, -confess!"</p> - -<p>"But I've already confessed," she said. And so she had, though not in -the way she intended, for her eyes told the story.</p> - -<p>It was, therefore, with no uncertain tread, but rather with a sudden -warmth and force that seemed to take possession of him, body and soul, -that he continued:</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Look here, little one, this is a matter between you and me and no -one else. You must consider no one, but remember only that I represent -to you the one man in all the world for you, as you stand for the only -woman in the world for me: for I love you, Leslie, and I know that you -love me."</p> - -<p>There had been times when Eliot Beekman had stood before and pleaded -with reluctant juries and judges whose faces were dead set against -him, but his task then had been nothing compared with the one now. And -yet so well did he plead his case, that when he had finished it was as -he had told her: she forgot her father's sentence, forgot everything, -except that she loved him, and that he was the one man in all the world -for her.</p> - -<p>"I believe you," she confessed to him in a whisper; "I believe you are -right. Would to heaven that you had given me the chance to say this to -you months ago."</p> - -<p>"You've loved me all the time?" he asked, his pulse beating fast.</p> - -<p>"Yes," she answered, "and I knew that you loved me."</p> - -<p>The next instant he had brought out the ring which she had refused to -accept, a little while before, and holding out her hand impulsively -Leslie let him put it on.</p> - -<p>There was a pause in which she looked first at the ring and then at the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span> -man before her, the meaning of it all slowly dawning upon her. And -then in some sudden outburst of rapture she let herself be held in his -arms as their lips met in one long kiss. In that moment her heart went -out to him, and she knew that there could never be anyone else for her. -After a time she gently drew herself away from him, and said:</p> - -<p>"My senses are coming back, Eliot, and this surrender is only on one -condition, which is that there shall be no—no wedding—until, until -father is cleared.... Of course, if you will not consent to this," and -she toyed with the gem that sparkled on her finger, "then——"</p> - -<p>"Hold on there, hold on!" cried Beekman. "I'll consent to anything so -long as you're mine...."</p> - -<p>"All over, is it, Eliot?" came in a big voice from somewhere behind -them.</p> - -<p>The pair of lovers sprang apart like two persons caught in the act of -concocting some conspiracy. The interloper was the girl's father.</p> - -<p>"I thought," went on Wilkinson, more gently now, "that I'd drop in -before the news went over the wire. Leslie's been opening up her heart -to me—letting me in on her troubles, and I agree with her, though it's -your own affair, of course. I'd keep the engagement quiet, for the -present."</p> - -<p>"That is precisely what I want; in fact I insist upon it," said Leslie, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span> -tugging at the ring on her finger.</p> - -<p>Beekman watched her struggles in alarm.</p> - -<p>"I consent to anything, just so long as I am sure you're mine, that you -belong to me," he repeated.</p> - -<p>Wilkinson held out his hand, saying:</p> - -<p>"I'll make myself scarce and let you make sure in your own way that -she does belong to you, Governor Beekman. Clinch the bargain, my boy; -strike while the iron's hot; make hay while the sun shines."</p> - -<p>A moment more and Wilkinson had ambled off to smoke another black cigar -and to pat himself upon the back, while the happy pair, heedful of his -advice, in the dim light of the music-room proceeded to make hay while -the sun shone, even though without the November storm raged above the -Hudson.</p> - -<p>It was a night to be marked with a white stone for them, a happy memory -in the days to come. For the time was not far distant when the sun for -them would cease to shine, when the storm was to rage within these two - -as it now raged without the big house on the Drive.</p> - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span> -<h2><a name="XVII" id="XVII"></a>XVII</h2> -</div> - -<p>On a bright snappy morning of the following Spring, Governor Beekman, -reaching his private room in the Capitol at Albany a little ahead of -time, began to pace slowly up and down in front of the open windows. -A wonderfully pleasant place the world seemed to him now. However -much his ambition might grope forward in the future, the present was -eminently satisfactory. All his struggles seemed to lie behind him; -before him he saw power, pleasant ways, and Leslie Wilkinson.</p> - -<p>His private secretary, on time to the minute, broke in on his thoughts.</p> - -<p>"This came in last night, Governor," he said, "after you'd left. I read -it over."</p> - -<p>"What is it?" asked the Governor, absent-mindedly.</p> - -<p>"It's a petition for pardon," said the other casually, handing it to -the Governor.</p> - -<p>"What's the conviction," asked the latter, glancing at the document.</p> - -<p>"Murder in the first degree," was the answer. Beekman frowned. Out of -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span> -many applications this was the first he had received in a murder case.</p> - -<p>"The game of Governor isn't all beer and skittles, is it, Phillips?"</p> - -<p>"I'll change with you any time you say, Governor," laughed Phillips; -and a moment later he added: "This is the case of Giles Ilingsworth."</p> - -<p>"And who is Giles Ilingsworth?"</p> - -<p>"Don't you remember that Tri-State Trust Company affair? The -vice-president who shot a man named Pallister."</p> - -<p>"Of course, Phillips, now I remember it very well. But I never took -much interest in his case. Have they sent the record up—the printed -case?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, and the Hon. Worth Higgins, of New York, is waiting to see you, -Governor Beekman. He came up yesterday—was at the Remsen last night."</p> - -<p>"So he was. I remember now seeing him this morning, eating breakfast. I -thought he looked at me as if something were in the wind. Tell him to -come in, Phillips; I'll see him right away."</p> - -<p>Bearing underneath his arm a printed book, the Hon. Worth Higgins -entered the arena of events with his accustomed energy. He bowed low -to the Governor, placed a high silk hat on the Governor's table, and -settled down into a seat.</p> - -<p>"Have you read my petition?" he asked of the Governor.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span></p> - -<p>"I looked at it," replied the other. "You have a choice assortment of -names upon it—looks all right."</p> - -<p>"It is all right," declared Higgins, "I can assure you."</p> - -<p>"I have just fifteen minutes," said the Governor. "I'll take this -matter up with you with pleasure. Give me the printed case. Now point -out to me—the evidence must have been brief on the exact point—the -testimony relating to the crime. Remember I don't want your own -private opinion, I want merely the salient facts of the case." And -after glancing quickly over the pages that Higgins selected, he then -wandered through the testimony on his own account. At sight of the name -of Leslie Wilkinson in the printed index of the witnesses, Governor -Beekman was conscious of a shock; nevertheless he turned to her -testimony and to that of Wilkinson.</p> - -<p>"Seems to have been deliberation all right," he remarked. "But wasn't -there a gun store clerk upon the stand? I was in Austria at the time, -and I lost track of this case."</p> - -<p>Higgins, his countenance falling, pointed out the exact testimony. The -Governor solemnly shook his head, as he observed:</p> - -<p>"And here, Mr. Higgins, are three witnesses in the crowd who say that -they saw him fire the fatal shot. What have you to say to that?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Ah!" exclaimed the Hon. Worth Higgins, his spirits rising, "that is -just the point. If you will examine the cross-examination, blundering -though it be, of my colleague Boggs, you will find that those three -witnesses cannot give a correct account of themselves. They were not -depositors—that much we showed: they were hangers-on of Mulberry Bend -resorts."</p> - -<p>"These three men," returned the Governor, "do not stand impeached by -Boggs, that much is sure; and, besides, this was Ilingsworth's gun. How -do you get away from that?"</p> - -<p>Now Higgins, be it known, was not secretly in sympathy with this errand -of his. He knew instinctively that his mission would fail. He preferred -successful missions, and consequently he had balked. But he had -outlined a plan whereby he would sit down before the Governor and make -his plea, and then retire, leaving the rest to fate. So that he had not -come prepared to answer vital questions, and they annoyed him. Besides, -he knew and felt that Ilingsworth had been convicted on the merits of -the case. Appeals had failed; this petition to the Governor was a last -resort. Nevertheless, he started in to tell the Governor the story his -petition set forth—a story of the wrongs of Ilingsworth.</p> - -<p>Governor Beekman listened patiently to him for a few minutes, then he -said:</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span></p> - -<p>"But this man Ilingsworth ran away, too, didn't he? In my mind that -refutes even this question of quasi-insanity that you set up. You were -beaten on insanity, beaten on everything."</p> - -<p>Once more the Governor took up the petition and glanced at the names -subscribed on it. When he came to the name of Nathan Ougheltree of the -National Banks, he smiled and said: "He heads the list." And running -his finger further down the long line of names, he added sardonically: -"Instead of being People vs. Ilingsworth, it looks like Ougheltree -against Wilkinson—the National Banks against the Trust Companies. At -least it does to me, Mr. Higgins; how does it look to you?"</p> - -<p>The Hon. Worth Higgins flushed to his eyelids.</p> - -<p>"My dear Governor," he said reprovingly, "a man's life is at stake."</p> - -<p>"I understand that, Counsellor," returned the Governor. "I'm just -trying to figure out just how much you and Ougheltree care about the -man's life, that's all. I'll take your papers," he went on, "and have -no fear, I'll go over this thing carefully, give the man the benefit of -every reasonable doubt, and that's the best I can do."</p> - -<p>"You'll pardon him, Governor Beekman," said Higgins, placing his silk -hat upon his head, and lighting a cigar. "You'll pardon him, I predict. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span> -Good-day!"</p> - -<p>Higgins's head was held high in the air until he left the room, but -once outside he conversed dejectedly with his own inner consciousness.</p> - -<p>"What the devil did Ougheltree send me on this fool errand for!" he -protested. "Ilingsworth's done for; anyhow, he's served our purpose. -The <i>Morning Mail</i> has had him for a weapon against Wilkinson long -enough."</p> - -<p>On Church Street he stepped into a telephone booth and called up -Ougheltree in Manhattan.</p> - -<p>"What luck?" queried the National Bank man.</p> - -<p>At his end of the line Higgins chuckled.</p> - -<p>"You can lay this unction to your soul," he replied. "There's no hope. -Besides," unconsciously lowering his voice, "this man B. is Wilkinson's -man from top to toe. I did what I could."</p> - -<p>"Nobody could do more," conceded Ougheltree at the other end; "let it -go at that."</p> - -<p>No sooner was the interview between Higgins and the Governor at an end -than the latter's private secretary tiptoed his way back into the room, -and remarked:</p> - -<p>"You're not through with that Ilingsworth case yet. Somebody else wants -to see you—a woman, this time."</p> - -<p>"His wife, I suppose," said the Governor, wearily.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span></p> - -<p>Phillips shook his head.</p> - -<p>"Ilingsworth was a widower," he explained.</p> - -<p>"It must be his daughter, then—he has a daughter, so it seems," he -said, tapping the printed case. "Doesn't she give her name? No? Well, -tell her to come in, then."</p> - -<p>The private secretary went out as directed, and a moment later the new -visitor entered.</p> - -<p>In a glance the Governor saw that although she was simply and poorly -clad, she was a woman of great beauty; and presently he said:</p> - -<p>"You are Miss Ilingsworth?"</p> - -<p>The woman turned her lustrous dark blue eyes full upon him—eyes full -of sorrow, full of appeal; they troubled the Governor.</p> - -<p>"I am not Miss Ilingsworth," she returned in a strong, rich, full -voice, vibrant with pathos. "I have no card. My name is Madeline -Braine. I'm a saleswoman in Satterthwaite's department store in New -York."</p> - -<p>The Governor looked at her questioningly.</p> - -<p>"I was informed that you had received the Ilingsworth papers," she -began, going right to the point, "and that Mr. Higgins had been here to -see you. I have come about it, too."</p> - -<p>The Governor drew a chair forward for her; and the young woman leaning -across a table, her figure half-resting lightly upon it, her slender -arm stretching toward him, continued:</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Yes, I have come to plead for Giles Ilingsworth, to save him -from——" She stopped suddenly, and for an instant her eyes held the -other's glance.</p> - -<p>"Who sent you here?" presently asked the Governor.</p> - -<p>"I came of my own accord, sir."</p> - -<p>"You are not allied with the Ougheltree crowd?" he asked, and his eyes -narrowed.</p> - -<p>Madeline Braine opened hers wide.</p> - -<p>"What Ougheltree crowd?" she queried in return.</p> - -<p>"Come, come," he said a bit impatiently, "you must know what I mean. -I've heard all about this Ilingsworth case. It's been a handle in -the hands of a lot of people for the purpose of hounding Peter V. -Wilkinson."</p> - -<p>"Peter V. Wilkinson," she breathed, a sharp note of enmity in her tone -that the Governor recognised for the thing it was.</p> - -<p>"Ah, you know something of what I say?" he said.</p> - -<p>"I have heard," she began.</p> - -<p>"Then why do you come here?" he interrupted testily.</p> - -<p>Madeline Braine leaned toward him a bit closer, persisting:</p> - -<p>"Because I know that this man Ilingsworth isn't guilty."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span></p> - -<p>"How do you know it?" he asked.</p> - -<p>"I just know," she replied with feminine logic.</p> - -<p>"You think he was insane? That seems to be the chief argument of his -friends."</p> - -<p>"He isn't guilty of the murder, that's all," she declared, her eyes -glittering for an instant.</p> - -<p>"I wish you'd tell me how you know this?" asked the Governor, firmly. -He was fast getting out of patience with her.</p> - -<p>"Because I've heard him tell his story, and I know it's true," she -insisted stubbornly.</p> - -<p>"But twelve men heard his story," went on the Governor, disturbed out -of his gubernatorial dignity by her evident distress, "and they felt it -wasn't true."</p> - -<p>"They didn't hear it as I heard it," she declared with great -earnestness. "You ought to hear it from him—not read it. Just hear the -sound of his voice, see his face, his eyes! You'd believe him—you'd -know it was true."</p> - -<p>The Governor was interested, not only at her words, but at her forceful -manner; moreover, he was attracted not a little by the young woman's -great beauty. Presently he asked:</p> - -<p>"You were in the crowd the day of the murder? Or perhaps you know -someone who was?" But both these questions she answered negatively.</p> - -<p>The Governor was puzzled. Dealing with the Honourable Worth Higgins -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span> -had been an easy matter compared to this. Nevertheless, there was a -wonderfully convincing stubbornness about the woman that disturbed him.</p> - -<p>"You think he had a fair trial?" he asked, flirting the leaves of the -printed case. "It seems to me he had."</p> - -<p>"No," she answered, "he did not...." And then she went on to give her -reasons why she thought this, ending with: "The three witnesses out of -the crowd—the three men who were procured by the police, and who swore -they saw Ilingsworth fire the shot—those men lied."</p> - -<p>The Governor started.</p> - -<p>"Isn't it rather queer that Counsellor Higgins should have harped on -that very thing! You've talked to Higgins this morning, or perhaps some -other time, about this case, haven't you?"</p> - -<p>"I have talked to no one," was her answer, and, somehow, the Governor -felt that she spoke the truth.</p> - -<p>"Leaving out the question of those three men," he went on, "there's -enough proof—the gun, the threats—to have convicted him on -circumstantial evidence."</p> - -<p>"Another reason is," she continued, heedless of his remark, "that the -influence of Peter V. Wilkinson, and especially," she hesitated for an -instant, "the testimony of Miss Leslie Wilkinson were too strong in the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span> -case—too much importance was attached to them."</p> - -<p>At the mention of Leslie's name the Governor winced. Not so much -because of her connection with the case, but he blamed himself for -permitting his thoughts, for one instant, to rest on this woman to the -exclusion of the other.</p> - -<p>"Their testimony," he argued, "was entitled to weight. It was true; and -it established these threats ... I can't see...."</p> - -<p>But there was such genuine distress and anguish on her face, and she -seemed to be advocating such a losing cause that he pitied her, and was -wondering just how he could assist her, when suddenly she leaned closer -to him, her breast swelling, heaving against the polished surface of -the table; and placing her ungloved hand upon his, while with the other -she pushed towards him a closely-written memorandum, she said in soft, -swelling tones:</p> - -<p>"Governor Beekman, I know this man is innocent. See what I have done: -This is a list of men who have been sent to death by juries, courts of -appeals, in times past—innocent men, like Ilingsworth, condemned by -the world, while living, and acquitted only when it was too late. This -man Ilingsworth is not guilty, I say," she concluded, tightening her -grasp on his arm, while her gaze held his.</p> - -<p>The Governor's frame thrilled at her touch.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span></p> - -<p>"I would not say this, Governor Beekman," she resumed, still holding -his glance, "if I were not desperate, but if there is anything I can -do for you, if there's anything in my power to give, I'll do it if you -will set this man free."</p> - -<p>The Governor felt the warmth of her hand through his sleeve, yet there -was nothing of the temptress in her touch, but rather she had become -a desperate woman, the apotheosis of self-sacrifice, a Monna Vanna, -stopping at nothing to gain her virtuous object.</p> - -<p>"I don't know you," she went on softly, with downcast eyes, "but if -there's anything about me—do with me——"</p> - -<p>Suddenly she stopped. The door had opened, and a girl stood framed in -the doorway. But although the Governor paled perceptibly, he did not -move. After a moment the woman removed her hand from his arm, quietly -rose and stood facing the girl who had entered.</p> - -<p>"Governor Beekman," she said, now turning to him, her face still -appealing in its pathos, her arms half stretched toward him, "I'm -coming here every day, whether you will see me or not. I'm coming -until you consent to see this man Ilingsworth and hear from him the -truth. You must see him, you must hear his story from his lips," she -concluded, holding out her hand.</p> - -<p>"I will say to you precisely what I told Mr. Higgins," he replied, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span> -taking her hand and bowing gravely over it. "I shall consider this -matter fully and faithfully, and shall give Giles Ilingsworth the -benefit of every reasonable doubt."</p> - -<p>When the woman had finally gone, Leslie came forward laughing, but with -just enough nervousness showing in her laugh to startle Beekman, and -remarked:</p> - -<p>"Take care, take care, Eliot, some of them will get you if you don't -watch out!"</p> - -<p>By this time the Governor had thrown off the subtle influence of the -woman, and smiling, too, he answered:</p> - -<p>"Let me tell you all about it, Leslie," and proceeded to do so, despite -her protests that she didn't care to hear it. During his recital, -however, she broke in with:</p> - -<p>"She's awfully attractive, Eliot, to say the least!"</p> - -<p>"To tell you the truth, Leslie," he laughed, "I'm not quite sure how -far her influence upon me is going to go."</p> - -<p>"Surely you don't mean——" began Leslie, but Beekman joined in -quickly, soberly, honestly saying:</p> - -<p>"Just this: that if she persists, it may result in my seeing Giles -Ilingsworth."</p> - -<p>"Oh!" The interjection plainly showing her relief. But a moment more -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span> -and she had recalled Colonel Morehead's warnings that under no -circumstances was Beekman to be permitted to hear Ilingsworth's story -from his own lips.</p> - -<p>Immediately, therefore, to Beekman's surprise, the reserve that had -marked her manner dissolved, and she cried:</p> - -<p>"Eliot, don't see him! Please don't see him, Eliot!"</p> - -<p>"But why not?" he inquired, smiling.</p> - -<p>"Because I don't want you to," she told him.</p> - -<p>"Leslie! Surely you're not trying to pit your influence against hers? -What?" he said, his smile changing to an expression of slight annoyance.</p> - -<p>"No, indeed," she replied. "It's something else."</p> - -<p>"Why, then?"</p> - -<p>"That's the trouble—I don't know. Only, he was, is still, my father's -enemy. Oh, I have seen his fury—he meant murder—he did murder...."</p> - -<p>"It is because the case is a murder case," explained the Governor, -"that it troubles me. It's the first murder case since my election, and -really, I don't know—I can't promise anything now."</p> - - - -<p>Madeline Braine lived up to her promises. Day after day for a week she -had waited persistently in the Governor's ante-room, buoyed up with -the hope that eventually he would accede to her wishes. At last her -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span> -patience was rewarded: for the Governor, passing through the room -where she waited, suddenly announced to his private secretary that he -would consent to an interview with Ilingsworth the following day at -noon. And turning to the woman, he added:</p> - -<p>"I want you here, Miss Braine, too."</p> - -<p>Phillips, the Governor's private secretary, frowned to himself. Unknown -to the Governor, he was one of Wilkinson's most faithful men—placed -at the Governor's side apparently by the Governor's untrammelled -choice—but actually forced upon him without his own knowledge.</p> - -<p>"I don't like this a little bit," thought Phillips to himself. "It -looks bad, bad...."</p> - -<p>The following day punctually at noon, in obedience to the mandate of -the Governor, three men marched into the waiting-room at the Capitol. -Two were men in uniform; one in civilian's dress.</p> - -<p>"You can go right in," said the secretary, nodding to them. And passing -into the Governor's private office they found him at his desk, signing -some papers. In a corner sat Miss Madeline Braine. One of the uniformed -officers stood at attention, waiting until the Governor should look up.</p> - -<p>"This is Giles Ilingsworth, sir," he said at length.</p> - -<p>Instantly the Governor raised his eyes and looked at the prisoner—a -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span> -man whose hair was turning grey, whose aspect was pathetically -hopeless. And steeling himself against the sight—for it was within -the range of possibility that all murderers looked this way, guilty or -not,—he ordered him to sit down, and pointing to a seat, he added:</p> - -<p>"Mr. Ilingsworth, take this chair, please."</p> - -<p>The chair had been placed so that the light shone full upon the face of -the condemned man. And the instant that Ilingsworth had seated himself, -some new expression crossed the face of the Governor as unconsciously -he placed his hand against his forehead. In an instant, however, he -had removed it, and his glance went from Ilingsworth to the young -woman sitting in the corner, at the same time motioning to her to come -forward.</p> - -<p>"Mr. Ilingsworth," he began gently, "the fact that I have consented to -see you is due to your friend, Miss Madeline Braine."</p> - -<p>The prisoner turned an expressionless countenance toward the girl.</p> - -<p>"My friend, Miss Madeline Braine!" he exclaimed, his hand, too, -creeping along his own forehead. "I have no friend of the name Braine."</p> - -<p>"You may not know her by that name, but this is the lady," said the -Governor.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span></p> - -<p>Giles Ilingsworth stared hard at her; the next instant he announced:</p> - -<p>"I don't know this lady, sir."</p> - -<p>The Governor was startled afresh.</p> - -<p>"You don't know her? Why, she's been pleading for you for days."</p> - -<p>Ilingsworth smiled gratefully, murmuring:</p> - -<p>"Some young newspaper woman, I suppose. I thank her for it."</p> - -<p>The Governor shook his head.</p> - -<p>"She's not a newspaper woman—I know that," he returned. "I mistook her -for your daughter."</p> - -<p>Giles Ilingsworth struggled wildly to his feet, and brushing his hair -roughly from his forehead as he leaned over the Governor's desk and -looked him full in the eye, he cried:</p> - -<p>"My daughter! My daughter——"</p> - -<p>"Stop!" ordered the Governor in commanding tones, the puzzled look on -his face giving way to one of recognition, relief.</p> - -<p>"I've placed you now—yes, by Jove, I'm right—I know you!" He laughed -with the surprise of it all.</p> - -<p>Ilingsworth continued to stare vacantly into space.</p> - -<p>"'And the rest by the names underneath,'" quoted the Governor, touching -him on the arm, as though to arouse him.</p> - -<p>"Eh?" exclaimed the prisoner, working his fingers convulsively through - -his hair.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span> -"Listen to this!" And the Governor recited with almost boyish glee:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i3">"'I recognise Dante because he's tab-eared,<br /></span> -<span class="i3">And Virgil I know by his wreath,<br /></span> -<span class="i3">Old Homer I tell by his rough shaggy beard—<br /></span> -<span class="i3">And the rest <i>by the names underneath</i>.'"<br /></span> -</div></div> - -<p>"Don't you remember it?" he added, when he had finished the verse.</p> - -<p>Ilingsworth's face lighted up.</p> - -<p>"Why, sir," he cried, "it's my favourite. Where did you hear it?"</p> - -<p>"From your own lips," replied the Governor. "And at the same time you -showed me that,"—and he pointed with his finger to the spot where the -old man had brushed away his hair from his forehead—"the Heidelberg -scar upon your head. And you were reading Dante at the time."</p> - -<p>Ilingsworth pulled a thumb-worn volume out of his pocket.</p> - -<p>"I've that copy of the Inferno yet," he murmured sadly. "It keeps -reminding me.... My daughter"—he peered uncertainly at the Governor. -"I'm curious to know, sir, when I met you. I can't seem to place you."</p> - -<p>"But I remember you very well indeed," rejoined the Governor. "I rode -with you all day long to Buffalo, some months ago. We were on the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span> -Empire State Express together."</p> - -<p>"Buffalo?" said Ilingsworth. "I never went to Buffalo."</p> - -<p>"Oh, yes, you did," persisted the Governor; and drawing from his -breast-pocket a diary he turned over the leaves rapidly until he came -to a certain page. "Yes, you went to Buffalo on the 27th day of April, -190—that's the date."</p> - -<p>"I can't seem to remember it," was all that Ilingsworth said; but at -that moment a figure sprang towards the Governor, and a voice cried in -his ear:</p> - -<p>"The date—what was that date? The twenty-seventh day of what?"</p> - -<p>"April."</p> - -<p>"Please repeat it."</p> - -<p>The Governor repeated it.</p> - -<p>"Are you absolutely sure?" she cried.</p> - -<p>"Of course," he answered. "Why?"</p> - -<p>"And you say you took the Empire State Express?" demanded Madeline -Braine, almost beside herself with excitement. "What time does it leave -in the morning?"</p> - -<p>"It leaves always at the same time—eight-thirty in the morning."</p> - -<p>"It was an all-day ride?"</p> - -<p>"Yes."</p> - -<p>"And Giles Ilingsworth was near you all the way? You're sure that you -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span> -were with him on the Empire State Express at eleven o'clock—eleven in -the morning that day?"</p> - -<p>"Surely I was."</p> - -<p>Madeline Braine offered up a silent prayer.</p> - -<p>"I knew, I knew," she cried, "that there must be some way out of this! -Giles Ilingsworth was miles away at the time when Pallister was killed! -The murder took place on April 27th at eleven o'clock in the morning, -at the very instant when you and he were riding to Buffalo as fast as -steam could carry you! You——"</p> - -<p>She sank into her chair and covered her face with her hands.</p> - -<p>"I told you he was innocent," she said, smiling through her tears.</p> - -<p>There was a tense moment in which Governor Beekman, the prisoner and -the two officers stood staring at each other in speechless amazement.</p> - -<p>"Can it be possible ...!" exclaimed the Governor at length, and again -he consulted his diary. All of a sudden something else on the page that -he was looking at caught his eye, and he cried out:</p> - -<p>"It was at six o'clock that evening in the Iroquois that I read the -murder in the papers. It was that day—it was...." And a moment later -he was at his desk rapidly leafing over the printed case for the date -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span> -of the commission of the crime.</p> - -<p>There was no mistake about it. Every witness had it pat. Repeatedly in -his opening address and in his summing up the District Attorney had -referred to it; three times it appeared in the Court's charge to the -jury.</p> - -<p>"Phillips," he directed, when his secretary appeared, "call up my -office in New York; call up the District Attorney's office in New York; -and call up the Bank Le Boeuf in Buffalo. Get them right away, please."</p> - -<p>The calls were answered quickly. Once the people at the other end knew -the Governor of New York was on the wire, everything was put aside to -do his bidding; and at the end of an hour the Governor sank back into -his chair with a sigh of satisfaction.</p> - -<p>"There is not the slightest doubt about it," he told them. "At the -very time the shot was fired in Lafayette Street, New York, this man -was with me miles away from the spot." He looked at the officers -significantly. "When was he to be——" He broke off, shuddering at the -thought of the man's narrow escape.</p> - -<p>"Next week Thursday," came from the officers.</p> - -<p>Beekman thought for some time. Finally he said:</p> - -<p>"I'll grant him a reprieve for a month. It may take a week to verify -the facts."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span></p> - -<p>When the prisoner had been led away, the Governor turned to Madeline -Braine, and said with great feeling:</p> - -<p>"Miss Braine, I owe you a debt of gratitude I can never repay. If it -hadn't been for you I would have sent this man to his doom—and one -of these days, when it was too late, I would have found it out, and -then...." His finger-nails bit into his palms. "You've saved me from -the Inferno that he harps upon."</p> - -<p>But much to the Governor's surprise, the woman before him seemed to -receive this remark listlessly. An unaccountable depression was upon -her; there was no fire in her eyes; and the hand that she gave to him -was cold as ice. Yet, instinctively he felt that she must be grateful.</p> - -<p>"If I can ever be of service"—she murmured. But Beekman interrupted -her.</p> - -<p>"Pardon me, it is I who wish to be of some service to you. But will you -tell me," he asked, another thought coming into his mind, "how it was -that you didn't know Ilingsworth, and that he didn't know you? How do -you account for it, Miss Braine?"</p> - -<p>"I think this day has taught us that there are many unaccountable -things in life, hasn't it, Governor?"</p> - -<p>And the Governor, when once more seated alone at his desk, was forced -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span> -to acknowledge to himself that it had.</p> - -<p>Governor Beekman was still at his desk going over some papers when -Phillips, some time later, came in and handed him a telegram, saying:</p> - -<p>"It's in cipher, sir."</p> - -<p>"Cipher!" said the other. "Why cipher? I have no code with anybody. Can -you read it?"</p> - -<p>"It says 'Coal gone to $6.50 retail.'" And passing it over, added: -"It's signed, M. X. Y. Z."</p> - -<p>"And you say that's a cipher?" asked the Governor.</p> - -<p>"Yes. The X. Y. Z. means the X. Y. Z. Code, apparently," explained -Phillips, glibly. "I have the A. B. C. and the X. Y. Z. in my desk. I -translated it while you were busy. It means this: 'Court has affirmed -Wilkinson conviction. Morehead.'"</p> - -<p>Governor Beekman started with genuine anxiety.</p> - -<p>"The deuce you say! I'm sorry, very sorry, to hear that," he said; but -Phillips only smiled—a smile that the Governor did not see. "I can't -understand why they affirm that conviction, I can't—I can't ..." he -kept saying to himself. Then aloud to his secretary: "Get me a copy of -that opinion, will you, Phillips? I want to see it, word for word."</p> - -<p>And it was with considerable satisfaction that the private secretary -observed, as he left the room, that the Governor was nervously pacing -to and fro.</p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span> -<h2><a name="XVIII" id="XVIII"></a>XVIII</h2> -</div> - -<p>In Colonel Morehead's office at 120 Broadway, Peter V. Wilkinson sat at -the window reading a typewritten document of considerable length. He -was white and rigid; while Leslie, standing beside him, rested her arm -upon his shoulder. As he read he stirred uneasily, even his daughter's -hand felt heavy upon him, and he shrugged it off.</p> - -<p>"By all the gods!" he groaned from time to time; "those chaps have -nerve to say such things about me!"</p> - -<p>"They seem to have the right," said the Colonel, suppressing a chuckle, -"and I suppose we can't complain."</p> - -<p>When Peter V. had finished reading the opinion, he wiped his face with -his kerchief—the perspiration had started from every pore.</p> - -<p>"That's the last crack, I suppose, Morehead," he ventured.</p> - -<p>Morehead did not immediately answer, but turned to Leslie and said:</p> - -<p>"There's a new Inness in the next room that I picked up at a bargain. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span> -Would you like——" And without waiting for her answer the Colonel led -the way to an adjoining room, where he pointed out briefly to her the -artistic features of his new acquisition, and leaving her to admire it, -he came back, closing the door behind him.</p> - -<p>"Peter," he said softly, "how much money have you squandered on this -business in the last year—since you were indicted, convicted and so -forth. I mean outside of what you haven't paid me and of what I know -about?"</p> - -<p>Wilkinson grunted in disgust.</p> - -<p>"Ten, I should say."</p> - -<p>"Millions?"</p> - -<p>His client fumed and nodded.</p> - -<p>Morehead made a gesture of impatience which included the other.</p> - -<p>"Didn't I warn you, Peter, that it would be of no use? That at the end -of the race you'd find yourself with a ten-years' sentence staring -you in the face. You might have saved your money, or given it to me, -preferably the latter course."</p> - -<p>"Oh, come, Morehead, what's the use of these post mortems of yours! -Let's get to work. How much time have we got?"</p> - -<p>"I can get a few certificates of reasonable doubt—that part's all -right—run it along for months yet. We've got to concede, however, -that they shoved it along mighty quick. What I'm trying to figure out -is whether we hadn't better apply to Beekman now—strike while the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span> -iron's hot. For that opinion will make him mad, and if so, now is our -time...."</p> - -<p>"Sure it's our time, Colonel; let's do it right away."</p> - -<p>Morehead slipped into the next room and adjusted the window-shade.</p> - -<p>"The light is a little better, now, Miss Leslie. I want you to like -that picture. If you like it well enough, maybe I'll give it to you one -of these days...."</p> - -<p>Leslie smiled her gratitude, glancing anxiously at the same time into -the next room.</p> - -<p>"Can I go back to father now?" she asked.</p> - -<p>"Of course, I came to get you," said Colonel Morehead; and when they -were back in the room in which her father waited, the Colonel, lounging -easily in his seat, went on to confide to her the fact that her father -was at last in desperate straits; that this opinion constituted his -last chance with the courts.</p> - -<p>"Your father and I have been talking it over," he said in a tone of -finality; "and the hand of the National Banks sticks up like a sore -finger all through the case. It's an outrage! We've decided that this -is the proper time and the proper case to present to Governor Beekman -for pardon. What do you think ...?"</p> - -<p>At first, while Morehead was explaining, as well as he knew how, the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span> -unpleasant situation that her father was in, Leslie had half-risen in -her chair, her face growing white; but at the lawyer's concluding words -her colour came back.</p> - -<p>"Why, I—I never thought of that!" she cried out, her troubles slipping -from her suddenly.</p> - -<p>Colonel Morehead smiled at her until she lowered her eyes in confusion. -Afterwards he deigned to explain that neither had they until just now.</p> - -<p>"Providence," put in Wilkinson, winking at Colonel Morehead, "seems to -be on our side—the appellate courts to the contrary notwithstanding."</p> - -<p>"The right shall prevail," quoth Morehead, unblushingly.</p> - -<p>"Isn't it funny," exclaimed Leslie, "that none of us ever thought of -this before!"</p> - -<p>Leslie thought of it a good deal afterwards, however, and the very next -day in the Mastodon car she canvassed in person practically every house -upon the Drive and over on Fifth Avenue to get the list of signatures -that the Colonel wished her to obtain.</p> - -<p>"This has got to be done right, Miss Leslie," he impressed upon her. -"For when Eliot pardons your father, remember that he's got to show why -he does it, and upon whose petition."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span></p> - -<p>"You mean"—she faltered, "that he may be criticised?"</p> - -<p>"It's quite possible, my dear. The <i>Morning Mail</i>, for instance, will -doubtless roast him from here to Gehenna and back again."</p> - -<p>Leslie's smile of girlish confidence returned.</p> - -<p>"Eliot won't mind," she said. "I don't believe he cares much about -anything except me. He'll do right by us no matter what happens, I feel -sure of that."</p> - -<p>"And I think," suggested the Colonel, "that when we hand in our -petitions, we'll all go up together."</p> - -<p>Leslie laughed in sheer delight.</p> - -<p>"Of course we'll all go up together," she returned. "Our march to -victory."<br /><br /></p> - -<p>"That man Ilingsworth is here again," Phillips told the Governor, -somewhat reluctantly; "and he wants to see you."</p> - -<p>"Show him in," briskly returned his chief. "I'll be delighted to see -him."</p> - -<p>Ilingsworth came in slowly, dejectedly, alone. No guard was with him; -the air he breathed was free air, and yet there were no signs of -contentment.</p> - -<p>"I didn't come exactly to thank you, Governor," he said uneasily. "I -did that in my letter when they told me of my pardon. I came to you -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span> -because in all my life you are the only man who ever really helped -me—for it seems to have been the mission of other men to drag me down. -I have come for help once more."</p> - -<p>"I want to help you, Mr. Ilingsworth," volunteered the Governor. -"What's the trouble? Is it—money?"</p> - -<p>Ilingsworth slowly shook his head.</p> - -<p>"No, it is not money...." He paused and looked about him uncertainly, -murmuring to himself: "What is it that I want?"</p> - -<p>Beekman touched him kindly.</p> - -<p>"You seem to lose yourself at times," he remarked. "For instance, you -didn't remember that trip to Buffalo."</p> - -<p>"That's the only time I ever lost myself, I guess," was his answer. -"If I hadn't lost myself then, I suppose I could have proved an alibi. -I couldn't account for myself upon my trial, and nobody who knew me -had seen me for a few days. I must have knocked about Buffalo and come -back."</p> - -<p>"You were looking for a farm."</p> - -<p>"Yes, you told me that. It comes back to me now. And there was a farm, -but it's all very vague—a farm some years ago somewhere up there. I -had the notion to find it and to live on it—just myself and——" he -broke off abruptly, and there was a new light in his eyes and a world -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span> -of pathos in the voice that said: "It's my daughter that I want to see -you about. I want to find her. Can't you help me to find her?"</p> - -<p>"Don't you know where she is?"</p> - -<p>"I haven't seen her for, oh, so long—so long. When they put me away -she would come to the Tombs—twice she came up the River to see me. But -the last time there was something in her face I couldn't understand, -then she never came again, and I knew they'd got her. For she had to -get along, somehow, and she didn't dare to face me. Poor girl, there -was no one to care for her—see to her!" And then all of a sudden -flaring up out of his downcast demeanour, he cried:</p> - -<p>"Curse them! Curse that man Wilkinson—all of them! First they robbed -me of my money, then they got me, and now they've got her!"</p> - -<p>The Governor's eyes narrowed.</p> - -<p>"What has Wilkinson to do with it?" he demanded.</p> - -<p>"Why, don't you know?" Ilingsworth burst out excitedly. "Doesn't -everybody know? Didn't you read my testimony at the trial?"</p> - -<p>"Only hurriedly," acknowledged the Governor. "What I wanted to read -first was the case made against you. I read your own denial—but as -for the rest, well, you were rambling, somewhat incoherent. I didn't -understand it—in fact I hardly read it all."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span></p> - -<p>Ilingsworth dragged up a chair.</p> - -<p>"Will you let me tell you, sir, all about it?"</p> - -<p>Governor Beekman let him tell his story. And scarcely had the last -words of Ilingsworth's recital of his wrongs left his lips than -Phillips, entering, announced:</p> - -<p>"Colonel Morehead and some friends to see you, sir!"</p> - -<p>"Bring them right in!" exclaimed the Governor, at once rising and going -with a smile to meet them. Suddenly he remembered Ilingsworth and -started to escort that gentleman out of another entrance.</p> - -<p>"But my daughter," mumbled Ilingsworth as with bowed head he followed -the Governor. "If I can't have her back again, why, what's the good of -a pardon? I must have help to find her." At the door something impelled -him to pause, and looking back he found himself face to face with Peter -V. Wilkinson.</p> - -<p>"That's the man—there—the man that got my money—that's got my -daughter! No matter where she is, he's responsible! Look at him! Look -at his face! I don't have to tell you...."</p> - -<p>But the Governor, startled by this outburst and intent upon getting rid -of his visitor, did not turn, and consequently he did not see the face -of Wilkinson blanch and twitch under the accusing forefinger of his old -vice-president, Giles Ilingsworth.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span></p> - -<p>"I'll help you find your daughter, sir," the Governor promised, taking -the man by the arm; "I'll help you all I can."</p> - -<p>"Poor chap," said he, returning, and shaking hands with his guests, -"seems to have it in for you, Mr. Wilkinson."</p> - -<p>"I don't blame him having it in for somebody," spoke up Leslie. "It is -not his innocence or guilt that interests me, but his daughter. I saw -her picture once—saw her twice," she went on wistfully. "How I wish -that I might help him...."</p> - -<p>Colonel Morehead, tucking the Ilingsworth incident into the back of his -head for future use, laid down a batch of papers and his printed case -upon the Governor's desk.</p> - -<p>"Governor—Eliot," he remarked jovially, "the New York <i>Reporter</i> and -the <i>Star</i> call you the pardoning Governor."</p> - -<p>"Yes. They rapped me hard, didn't they," he said, all unconscious -that they were Wilkinson's own papers. "But what could I do? The man -Ilingsworth was innocent—I knew he was innocent."</p> - -<p>"Oh, they didn't hit you very hard—just a little dig in the short -ribs—friendly little scrap, don't you know," said Morehead, -soothingly. "But the <i>Morning Mail</i> made up for it, my boy. They'll -stick to you through thick and thin, and don't you forget it. It won't -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span> -hurt you. Ougheltree's backing is not to be sneezed at by any man. But -what I started in to say, Eliot, was, that since you're the pardoning -Governor, so-called, why, we've got a little bone to pick with you—a -petition—or petitions, rather, in the case of the People versus -Wilkinson."</p> - -<p>Colonel Morehead handed up his bunch of papers, Leslie following suit, -as she said with a little smile:</p> - -<p>"My contribution, Governor."</p> - -<p>"A bit stiff, that U. S. Supreme decision," said the Governor, taking -them, and looking at Wilkinson. "It seemed to me unnecessarily rough."</p> - -<p>Wilkinson shrugged his shoulders.</p> - -<p>"With the National Banks against me, how can the U. S. courts be for -me—that's what I'd like to know?" he asked.</p> - -<p>"Will you hear me now, Governor," interposed Morehead.</p> - -<p>For an instant the Governor hesitated. Then he replied that he would -send for him when he was ready; that he had to read the case all -through, ending with:</p> - -<p>"I've forgotten half of it. I'll read it and then I'll set a day...."</p> - -<p>But that day was long forthcoming. For it was not until three weeks -later that Colonel Morehead heard anything relating to their visit -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span> -to the Governor in Albany. And then, one morning to his surprise, -Governor Beekman presented himself at his office in Broadway, and -handing him a personal memorandum, he said:</p> - -<p>"I was down here and thought we'd clean these up first. I'm going to -Murgatroyd's to look at the original exhibits when I'm through here—or -he'll probably send them to my office."</p> - -<p>The Colonel gave the man before him one long searching glance. He noted -that the Governor's face was unnaturally flushed; there were deep lines -on it; he had the appearance of an over-worked man.</p> - -<p>"Must have burned some midnight oil on this thing, Eliot?" said -Morehead.</p> - -<p>The Governor wearily drew his hand across his face.</p> - -<p>"I have," he answered shortly.</p> - -<p>"The first memo.," went on the Governor, referring to the printed case, -"relates to page 121."</p> - -<p>Morehead found page 121 and his face reddened perceptibly. The Governor -had touched a sore spot: page 121 contained the first bit of damning -documentary evidence against Wilkinson. Morehead ran through the -other pages indicated on the memorandum; and closing his eyes for a -few seconds, he pressed his hands against them and thought hard. The -Governor had burnt midnight oil to some purpose: he had located every -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span> -weak place in Wilkinson's armour—and Morehead knew it.</p> - -<p>"I merely want to find out what Wilkinson's explanation of all these -things is," remarked the Governor, grimly.</p> - -<p>"I'll tell you," said the Colonel, glibly; "that's easy, Eliot. Or, -perhaps," he suggested in order to gain time, "we might get Wilkinson -down here, and have him go over these things with you and me." Already -his hand was on the telephone; but the Governor stayed it.</p> - -<p>"Your explanation will do, Colonel."</p> - -<p>For two hours the Governor listened to Morehead's explanation. At -the end of that time the Governor was still leaning forward studying -every expression in the other's face; but the lines were deeper in -his own face, while on the Colonel's lean countenance small beads of -perspiration stood forth.</p> - -<p>"That's the explanation of it, is it, Colonel?" asked the Governor.</p> - -<p>"That's the whole thing in a nut-shell," returned Morehead.</p> - -<p>Hurriedly the Governor took his departure. He was nervous, anxious, -worried.</p> - -<p>"It seems to be the kind of an explanation that doesn't explain ..." he -told himself. Now he went back to his old office on Nassau Street and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span> -telephoned to Murgatroyd for the original exhibits. At the Barristers' -Club, behind locked doors, he examined the documents for hours. All -night long he studied them; then he rose and gazed out into the grey -dawn.</p> - -<p>"Wilkinson is guilty!" he cried out; "damnably guilty! Why didn't I see -it all before?"</p> - -<p>There was a reason: Colonel Morehead had been right when he told -Wilkinson that Beekman was partisan. And so long as his duty lay -that way, Beekman was partisan. But now he was Governor; his duty in -this case had become judicial; he saw with impartial eyes; and what -he saw and what he read was not the mere testimony of witnesses, not -evidence that depended on veracity, but documents whose genuineness -was undisputed, and whose significance had strangely escaped him until -now. In his own words, over his own signature, Wilkinson had convicted -himself over and over again.</p> - -<p>"Damnably guilty," he repeated to himself.</p> - -<p>One evening some days later Colonel Morehead betook himself into -the presence of Peter V. Wilkinson and his daughter Leslie. He had -with him, he said, a note which had come from the Governor's private -chambers, which he wished to read to them. It ran:</p> - -<p><i>My dear Colonel</i>:</p> - -<blockquote> <p>I have examined with great care the petitions for pardon -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span> -in the People vs. Wilkinson. Also the printed record. There seem to be -undisputed facts which are totally inconsistent with innocence. The -verdict seems to have been justified, the decisions on appeal correct. -There are no extenuating circumstances known to me which require -executive interference.</p></blockquote> - -<p class="right">Very truly, <br /> -<span class="smcap">Eliot Beekman</span>.</p> - -<p>"What the devil does he want?" growled Wilkinson, taking the letter -from Morehead, and tossing it to Leslie. "Is it money or political -preferment? Haven't I given him enough?" his anger increasing as he -went on. "I made him——"</p> - -<p>"Stop!" cried Morehead, alarmed lest he should betray to her their -political secret.</p> - -<p>"I mean I gave him my daughter," corrected the father, "everything I -had."</p> - -<p>Morehead stared at them a moment from under knitted brows. Presently he -said:</p> - -<p>"Peter, I'd send Leslie to him. This letter is only tentative."</p> - -<p>"It's a refusal," gasped Wilkinson, hopelessly.</p> - -<p>"It's a denial to me," explained Colonel Morehead. "But wait until he -sees her! He'll have something different to say to her, I know."</p> - -<p>And so it happened that the following day Leslie Wilkinson arrived at -Albany to interview her betrothed on her father's behalf.</p> - -<p>"I came to talk to you, Eliot, about my father," she began.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span></p> - -<p>Beekman swayed in his chair. His eyes seemed sunken in his head, and -his head ached from weariness and lack of sleep.</p> - -<p>"Yes, Leslie," he said.</p> - -<p>"Colonel Morehead didn't—couldn't understand what your letter meant, -so I came to see."</p> - -<p>"It means that I can't pardon your father, Leslie," he told her with -great difficulty.</p> - -<p>"Why not?"</p> - -<p>"Because your father is guilty——"</p> - -<p>"Eliot!" she cried, leaping back with flashing eyes.</p> - -<p>"But I must speak the truth, Leslie," said the Governor, "and that's -the truth."</p> - -<p>There was a silence that lapsed into minutes. Beekman was the first to -break it.</p> - -<p>"Unfortunately for us all," he said, "I'm sworn to do my duty—I don't -know that it makes much difference about my being sworn—I'd have to do -it anyway."</p> - -<p>"You defended him," she said with sudden spirit. "You believed him -innocent then—you said so a thousand times."</p> - -<p>"I defended him below," he returned, "because it was my duty to defend -him. I had never seen any other side of the case then; but now I know I -was wrong. He's guilty, deliberately guilty, wofully guilty...."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Eliot, must I remind you that you are speaking of my father! Have I -no right, no influence, no claim upon you?" she rattled on breathlessly.</p> - -<p>"Yes, you have a claim upon me," he said, eyeing her sternly. "Your -influence is of the best, Leslie, and it is your right, your duty -to claim, to demand of me that I shall do my duty in this as in all -things. If I were false in this, I would be false to you."</p> - -<p>But Leslie could not see things in his light, bent as she was on -obtaining her father's pardon.</p> - -<p>"You pardoned Giles Ilingsworth?" she went on; "and now you won't...."</p> - -<p>"Yes, I pardoned Giles Ilingsworth," he admitted.</p> - -<p>"A murderer!" she blazed forth.</p> - -<p>"I pardoned him because he was innocent," he insisted.</p> - -<p>"And you can't pardon my father?"</p> - -<p>Eliot Beekman did not answer at once, but hung his head under the -girl's scrutinising gaze. She looked very beautiful, irresistibly -beautiful to him pleading there, and for a moment he came perilously -near to wavering in his purpose. He would have liked to have taken her -in his arms, to have uttered the one word of all others that she wished -to hear and to have sent her home happy. But, hard as it was to deny -her, he knew from the first that it was impossible to grant her request.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span></p> - -<p>"No, Leslie, I can't," he told her at last.</p> - -<p>"Look at me!" she cried, now changing her tactics. "I haven't slept, I -haven't eaten! Have you no pity for me—if not for him?"</p> - -<p>"But, Leslie, you're asking me to commit a crime!"</p> - -<p>"Just a stroke of the pen, dear, and my father will be free," she -went on, half sobbing, half smiling. "It's his last chance—my last -chance—surely you can't, you won't refuse me this."</p> - -<p>Then followed a scene that lived in Beekman's memory for ever -after—the memory of a woman, the woman he loved, crawling after him on -her knees, pleading, almost writhing in agony, imploring him to do this -impossible thing—a thing that, were it not for his conscience, was so -ridiculously easy: merely the exercising of the authority vested in -him, and solely in him, and thus save the father of the woman he loved -from serving a term of ten years at hard labour in the State's Prison.</p> - -<p>"Why was I ever Governor!" burst out Beekman.</p> - -<p>"I'll tell you why," said Wilkinson, striding suddenly into the room. -"It's because I made you Governor, that's why! I—I bought you the -job—I——"</p> - -<p>"You?" ejaculated Beekman.</p> - -<p>"Yes, it is true," said Flomerfelt, gliding also into the scene. "You -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span> -owe it all to Peter V."</p> - -<p>"Now you've got to do it!" exclaimed Leslie, staggering to her feet.</p> - -<p>Beekman eyed them all with growing determination. He was beginning to -see things clearly now.</p> - -<p>"I even gave you my daughter, confound you!" went on Wilkinson.</p> - -<p>Beekman turned back to his desk and stood there, calm now, desperately -calm.</p> - -<p>"So you made me Governor just to get this pardon?"</p> - -<p>Flomerfelt started to speak, but Wilkinson was before him.</p> - -<p>"Yes," snarled Wilkinson, "just to get this pardon. Do you think for an -instant that you were put here for any other reason? Or that you had -any qualifications for the office?"</p> - -<p>Leslie laughed a discordant laugh, and Flomerfelt, seeing at once that -the girl was in complete sympathy with her father, stepped back behind -them.</p> - -<p>"There are many good reasons, Mr. Wilkinson," said the Governor, -grimly, "Why you should not be pardoned. Needless to say you know -what they are. But," he added fiercely, for he knew that he had been -tricked, "if there were no other reason, the fact that you had put me -here to secure your pardon would make it impossible for me to act." He -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span> -stopped and stared at Leslie, his eyes unconsciously seeking hers for -sympathy, but something there shocked him beyond measure, and before he -was aware of what he was saying, he blurted out:</p> - -<p>"Did you give me your daughter for the same season? Did you, Leslie——"</p> - -<p>There was a deep silence in which the attention of all was focussed on -the girl.</p> - -<p>"Mr. Beekman," she said, in a cold, hard voice, though her eyes were -softly eager, "will you tell me once for all whether you're going to -pardon my father?"</p> - -<p>"I certainly am not going to pardon him," declared Beekman.</p> - -<p>Leslie favoured him with a little stinging laugh.</p> - -<p>"Then you'd better know the rest. Yes, it is true that my father gave -me to you—I gave myself to you for that very reason, and no other.... -I made a big mistake; so did he. We should have made our bargain before -we took that step. It would have been better." She paused to take -breath, and presently went on in a voice that rankled: "You talked once -to me of equals—and when you got this office you thought, at last, -that you were my equal. I know better; you're my inferior. And I want -you to know and to understand—and understand it clearly—that the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span> -Wilkinsons do not mate with cowards." And with that she drew off her -ring and placed it before him, crying: "There!"</p> - -<p>An instant later, Leslie, strangling a sob that threatened to escape, -hurriedly fled from the room, her father and Flomerfelt following - -closely on her heels.</p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span> -<h2><a name="XIX" id="XIX"></a>XIX</h2> -</div> - -<p>In common with most men who have attained their ambition to be -money-kings, Peter V. Wilkinson regarded the legal profession solely -in the light of the ability of its members to provide processes for -him by means of which the law could be evaded. Failing in that or in -their promises of immunity from imprisonment,—which is much more -to the point in this case,—their usefulness, naturally, ceased. -Accordingly, from time to time, one after another of his superfluous -counsel had been dropped, even Patrick Durand, able criminal lawyer -as he was acknowledged to be, being forced to content himself with a -handsome souvenir of his connection with the case, to the exclusion of -any further interest in the expected spoils. Obviously, the old Colonel -was retained, but even this field marshal of a hundred campaigns, when -he arrived at the Wilkinson suite in the Remsen at Albany in response -to Wilkinson's imperative summons, had to acknowledge that the battle -of his life—the last battle of what he called the running fight—was -on, and likely, so at least it looked at the present time, to be his -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span> -Waterloo.</p> - -<p>It was but little wonder that, witnessing the burst of rage with which -Wilkinson had told him of the Governor's refusal to pardon, not to -speak of the pitiful state of collapse in which he found Leslie, that -thwarted and disappointed as he was, Colonel Morehead came to feel -that there was little likelihood of anything being immediately done -towards the forming of a new campaign. Practically, the Wilkinson -advisory committee had dwindled down to three—a triumvirate now, as it -were—for Flomerfelt, doubtless for reasons of his own, had returned -to New York; and Morehead at once set himself the task of forcing the -intellects of father and daughter to resume their functions. With the -girl it did not prove difficult. Womanlike, and despite her horror of -the inevitable, she flung aside her own personal troubles at the call -of the Colonel for a consultation, and entered the conclave intent on -helping her father in his last great struggle with an energy that she -determined would be boundless.</p> - -<p>"Colonel Morehead, why can't father go away?" suddenly said the girl.</p> - -<p>"Why not, Morehead?" asked Wilkinson, fairly jumping at her words.</p> - -<p>But the Colonel was still sullen. He was beaten, or thought he was, -which is very much the same thing. Wilkinson, on the contrary, seemed -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a></span> -to find new life in the moroseness of the other. And for the first -time in the struggle Wilkinson seemed to feel that the whole fight -rested on his own shoulders, and Wilkinson was one who dearly loved to -fight alone and single-handed.</p> - -<p>"Why not run away, Morehead?" he repeated.</p> - -<p>"How?" demanded the Colonel with little interest.</p> - -<p>"The <i>Marchioness</i> ..." suggested Leslie.</p> - -<p>"And forfeit a million dollars bail?"</p> - -<p>"Yes. Why not?"</p> - -<p>"Don't make any mistake," declared Wilkinson, "they'll never get me -behind the bars again! Never! Not even if I have to——" A new strange -note had forced itself into his tone. Leslie, feeling suddenly cold, -crept closer to him.</p> - -<p>"Don't, don't talk that way, father!" she cried. "It shall never come -to that."</p> - -<p>Morehead, even, was alarmed.</p> - -<p>"Peter, you don't mean——" he began.</p> - -<p>"I mean," repeated the other, looking sturdily at him, "that if they -ever put me behind the bars, it will be after life has left my body."</p> - -<p>Leslie uttered a half-strangled cry and buried her face in her hands. -But Wilkinson only braced himself.</p> - -<p>"We haven't got to that yet, Colonel," he observed. There was a pause, -after which he repeated his question: "Why not run away, eh?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span></p> - -<p>The Colonel thought a moment. Then, taking both Wilkinson and Leslie -by the arm marched them to the window and drew back the curtain.</p> - -<p>"Do you see that Italian fruit-vender over there selling figs to the -swell? They're Murgatroyd's men, both of them. Murgatroyd's got you -surrounded, sewed up, tied in. One of the elevator boys in the Remsen -here is a New York County man; the chambermaid of this suite is a -detective. Murgatroyd has sworn that you won't get away. It may cost -the County of New York a million dollars, but you know Murgatroyd! And, -besides, behind him stand the National Banks. How much will they put up -to break you, eh? Murgatroyd will put you behind the bars as sure as -guns—unless——" He stopped, his eyes were half shut.</p> - -<p>"Unless——" repeated father and daughter, leaning forward.</p> - -<p>Morehead did not answer at once. His mind was working fast; he was -evidently feeling his way clear before committing himself. Suddenly he -said:</p> - -<p>"Peter, how long have you worn a beard?"</p> - -<p>The question seemed so irrelevant that the millionaire started.</p> - -<p>"Why, nearly all my life," he answered. "I've—I've never shaved. -But——"</p> - -<p>"It was so bristly," explained the Colonel, "that I thought it might be -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</a></span> -the result of shaving; but everything about you bristles, so I guess -it's nature and not art. When you first saw it coming, you let it grow, -didn't you—and you've had it ever since?"</p> - -<p>Peter V. did not like the turn the conversation was taking, and merely -nodded.</p> - -<p>The Colonel uncrossed his legs and sat on the edge of the table, facing -them.</p> - -<p>"How do you look without a beard?" he asked.</p> - -<p>Leslie laughed aloud in sheer delight. The problem seemed to be solving -itself, but how or in what way she could not see.</p> - -<p>"Blamed if I know," answered Wilkinson. "I don't even remember how I -used to look without a beard, and as for photographs, well, in former -days those luxuries were not for me, you know."</p> - -<p>Colonel Morehead stuck his hands into his armpits and rested his chin -upon his shirt front. Presently he went on:</p> - -<p>"Peter, you know this is Murgatroyd's pet case. It's his first in his -series of raids upon the iniquitous rich. He means to see to it that -you serve ten years—less good behaviour. From the time you put up -your million-dollar bail bond he has had you watched. Of course his -task is a tremendous one. You and I know that time and time again we -have eluded the vigilance of his men; and we know that we can do it -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span> -again for a time; but that doesn't alter the situation. If you should -disappear, every hotel, every train, every steamship would be thronged -with plainclothes men. You can't get out of the United States, and -you can't get out of the State, unless—you can't, in fact, elude -Murgatroyd for any time at all, unless——" Again he stopped, and again -Leslie and her father chimed in insistently:</p> - -<p>"Unless——"</p> - -<p>"Unless you follow my directions."</p> - -<p>"What are they?" quickly asked the others.</p> - -<p>"You've got to leave your beard and your name and all your worldly -goods——" went on the Colonel, but he checked himself in time.</p> - -<p>"My worldly possessions being minus anyway," sighed Wilkinson, helping -the Colonel out.</p> - -<p>"You've got to leave, even Mrs. Peter V.," smiled Morehead.</p> - -<p>"Heaven forbid!" exclaimed Wilkinson with mock solemnity; then he -added: "I can leave the lady with eminent complacency."</p> - -<p>"And also," went on Morehead, mercilessly, "you must leave your -daughter."</p> - -<p>There was a sharp cry from Leslie, but Wilkinson gave no sign. He -merely sniffed hopefully, for he smelled freedom in all this.</p> - -<p>"Go on!" he commanded, ignoring the quivering palm that Leslie laid -upon his hand.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span></p> - -<p>"You've got to leave them all and never come back to them," continued -the Colonel; and bending closer and lowering his voice to a whisper, he -added: "Leave everything that you've got in the world, you understand?"</p> - -<p>Wilkinson muttered an oath under his breath, for next to liberty his -wealth was dear to him. In fact, he now arranged in his mind the -relative importance of things: first, liberty—he must have that at any -cost; second, the millions that he had stowed away; third, his daughter -Leslie.</p> - -<p>"Why have I got to leave them all?" he demanded, "and why never come -back at all?"</p> - -<p>"Because," said his counsel, "if you so much as plank down a ten-dollar -bill for a railroad ticket after you disappear, you will be suspected. -The county men, the police in other cities will be on the look-out for -a man with money; they will not search the lodging-houses. You must not -be caught. It takes nerve, but you've got to do it. You've got to say -good-bye to everything."</p> - -<p>There was a moment's silence; then Wilkinson answered:</p> - -<p>"Where could I go?"</p> - -<p>"Anywhere you like. Disappear. But don't buy a railroad ticket if you -can help it. Don't try to leave the country, for if you do they'll get -you. Don't do anything that a man with a roll of bills might do. Play -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span>the part of a tramp."</p> - -<p>For a time they pondered the situation. The Colonel was the first to -break the ruminating silence, and said:</p> - -<p>"Of course your bail would be forfeited, and that would leave your -daughter penniless."</p> - -<p>This remark was for Leslie's benefit. Nevertheless he knew that after -Wilkinson had gone, some way could be found in which his huge fortune -might gradually be used for her.</p> - -<p>"I don't care at all about being penniless!" cried Leslie, springing to -her feet. "All I care for, is—but can't I go with father?"</p> - -<p>"That's out of the question—they'd get me in an hour if you did." -There was nothing paternal in Wilkinson's voice, for the primal -principle had him in its clutch. Leslie was hurt by this seeming -indifference to her; it was not given to her to comprehend fully that -her father was making, in actuality, a fight for his life.</p> - -<p>"You must understand, Leslie, that this means an absolute loss of -identity, or ten years behind the bars for your father," explained -Colonel Morehead.</p> - -<p>Wilkinson rose, and walking to the window glanced down at the fruit man -on the other side of the street, and then came back.</p> - -<p>"How long time have I, Colonel, before——"</p> - -<p>"There'll be no trouble about time," was the Colonel's reply. "I -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</a></span> -can still string it on for months. Summer is coming on—the long -vacation——"</p> - -<p>Wilkinson rewarded him with a crafty, exultant smile. He saw in this -plan nothing save success. Firmly he believed that there was some way -after all by which, whether he was in Paris, San Francisco or some -other place, he could draw back his millions, even if it had to be -accomplished in the slow way that formerly he had drawn them from his -depositors.</p> - -<p>"Liberty first, then——" he said half-aloud; and turning to his -daughter, whose presence for the moment he had forgotten, he added: -"Isn't it more than bedtime, child? You must be mighty tired, little -girl. You're a mighty loyal one, anyhow."</p> - -<p>Leslie held out her hand to Colonel Morehead.</p> - -<p>"Don't worry, my girl," said the Colonel, kindly, "it's going to come -out all right. I feel it, somehow, and I know you do, too. Good-night!"</p> - -<p>But the Colonel's words did not banish the look of worriment on -Leslie's face; and going over to her father, now, she clung to him -insistently, pressing her flushed face against his breast, saying:</p> - -<p>"Father, you're not going to leave me to-night?"</p> - -<p>"Not for many nights," he answered, patting her head; and a moment -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</a></span>after, -Leslie withdrew.</p> - -<p>For a brief ten minutes the client and his attorney waited in silence. -Suddenly, then, Morehead stepped to a door and opened it, and a man -came in.</p> - -<p>It cannot be said that the newcomer was wanting in self-possession, and -his bow to Morehead was one of respect. But that he stood in awe of -Wilkinson, his manner while awaiting orders gave ample evidence.</p> - -<p>"Sit down, Phillips," said Wilkinson. "Have a cigar?"</p> - -<p>Governor Beekman's secretary helped himself to a cigar, and in fact, -made himself quite at home.</p> - -<p>"Now then, what are we going to do with this man Beekman?" asked the -millionaire, his face flushed, his mouth hardening. "He's got to get -his—and get it right away."</p> - -<p>Morehead held up his hand.</p> - -<p>"Peter V., do you think it advisable to——. Why not let Beekman alone -until...."</p> - -<p>"I'll do nothing of the kind!" snapped back Wilkinson. "Do you think -I'm not going to hit him back? I don't want that kind of advice from -you, Colonel. What I do want, is for you to tell me the quickest -way...."</p> - -<p>The Colonel swung about and closed his eyes, puffing unconcernedly at -his cigar.</p> - -<p>"I think," he remarked mildly, "that you'd better leave me out of this. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</a></span> -Vengeance is not in my line. I'll have to leave that part to you and -Mr. Phillips here."</p> - -<p>"What do you say, Phillips?" demanded Wilkinson.</p> - -<p>"<i>Impeachment</i>," answered Phillips.</p> - -<p>"Can it be done?"</p> - -<p>"Easy as rolling off a log."</p> - -<p>"Good—good as far as it goes; but it don't go far enough. We want to -be as hard as we can."</p> - -<p>"I think that can be arranged without trouble, too."</p> - -<p>"How will we get him?"</p> - -<p>"Suppose you leave that to me. You'll back me up?"</p> - -<p>Wilkinson clenched his fist.</p> - -<p>"Go the limit, Phillips—I'll back you up. The traitor! And to think -that this man Beekman might have had anything he wanted."</p> - -<p>"The <i>Reporter</i> and the <i>Star</i> will back me, too?"</p> - -<p>"To the limit."</p> - -<p>"We'll need public opinion with us, don't forget that, Mr. Wilkinson."</p> - -<p>"Pshaw, I'll take care of that."</p> - -<p>"How long are you going to stay in Albany?"</p> - -<p>Wilkinson raised his hand high in the air, as one about to take an oath.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Until I've done up this man Beekman," was the magnate's answer to the -Governor's private secretary.</p> - -<p>Two days later charges of corruption against Governor Beekman had -been presented to the legislature. A petition for his impeachment had -been handed up; and a committee of three appointed to investigate the -charges and to report. What the charges were was not quite clear upon -the first news of the affair; but that they were serious seemed to be -conceded.</p> - -<p>Upon the evening of the very day of the appointment of the committee -of three, a woman stepped into the lobby of the Remsen in Albany and -exhibited a letter to the clerk. The letter was written upon the -private letter-head of Governor Beekman and was addressed to a woman.</p> - -<p>The clerk raised his eyebrows imperceptibly, and calling a boy ordered -him to take the lady to the Governor's suite.</p> - -<p>At the Governor's suite the woman was met by a maid, who unhesitatingly -admitted her and escorted her into the Governor's den—a small room -fitted with window-seats and couches galore.</p> - -<p>"Are you sure this is all right?" asked the woman, somewhat alarmed at -the effusive way in which she was made so suddenly at home.</p> - -<p>The maid insisted that it was; that Governor Beekman was on his way up -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</a></span> -from New York; and that he was expected at any moment. The maid left, -locking the door behind her.</p> - -<p>Alone in this room the woman settled herself comfortably back to wait -for the Governor. She had not long to wait, however, for presently the -door opened and three men entered the reception-room. From where she -sat she could see them, but they could not see her; and except for -their being perhaps a bit unkempt, she noted that they were of the -ordinary type of business men.</p> - -<p>"I suppose this is all right," she heard one of the men saying.</p> - -<p>"Of course it is," said another. "We've got a search warrant from the -House, and anyway, we haven't broken in. I'd like to know how you're -going to keep a legislative committee out of any place. We've got our -rights, you know."</p> - -<p>The woman shrank into a corner, fearing that any moment they might find -her there. But they merely waited in the outer room, expectantly.</p> - -<p>"Wonder what he'll have to say for himself?" queried one.</p> - -<p>A second man laughed.</p> - -<p>"There's nothing to it," he returned, "we're on a wild goose chase. -Bribery? Nonsense! Beekman's as straight as a die."</p> - -<p>"Suppose," said the third, "that we wait until we find out all about -it. Suppose——" He broke off abruptly, for someone was knocking at -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</a></span> -the door; and looking up he saw that two people had entered the room.</p> - -<p>When the woman in the inner room perceived who had entered, she could -not suppress an exclamation, which, fortunately, however, did not reach -the ears of Leslie and her father, who were now bowing to the three -committee-men.</p> - -<p>"I beg your pardon," said Wilkinson, "but can you tell me when the -Governor is likely to return? We——" he smiled awkwardly, "we were -summoned by him to meet him here at this hour."</p> - -<p>One of the Assemblymen, a New York man, leaned over to his neighbour, -and said: "That's Wilkinson." Whereupon, the others rose and bowed, and -answered:</p> - -<p>"We were told that he'd be here any minute now." And as if in -confirmation of his words, the door suddenly opened, and Governor -Beekman, with a light but hurried step, came into the room.</p> - -<p>"I beg your pardon," he said, when he saw who was standing before him.</p> - -<p>Leslie turned to him involuntarily, and half acknowledged his bow; then -remembering, she quickly turned away, and looked at her father, fixedly.</p> - -<p>The three men pressed forward at once, the chairman speaking.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Governor," he said, "you understand why we're here. You've had a copy -of the impeachment charges."</p> - -<p>Beekman flushed.</p> - -<p>"I received them in New York and came up as fast as I could," he -answered, a little brusquely. "What can I do for you?"</p> - -<p>"I beg your pardon, Governor Beekman, but I received this note from you -and have obeyed it. Can you see us first?" asked Wilkinson.</p> - -<p>The Governor took the note, which was written on his heavy, private -letter-head, and read it. It ran:</p> - -<p><i>Dear Mr. Wilkinson</i>:</p> - -<blockquote><p>Will you and your daughter, Miss Wilkinson, kindly call at my -suite in the Remsen this evening at eight o'clock. I desire to see -you at that time.</p></blockquote> - -<p class="center">Very truly yours,</p> - -<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Eliot Beekman</span>.</p> - -<p>For a moment Beekman was nonplussed and looked from the note to its -bearer.</p> - -<p>"I didn't write this letter," presently he said. He paled perceptibly; -his confusion, whatever it may have meant, was not lost on the three -committee-men.</p> - -<p>"You didn't write it," queried Wilkinson, coldly, "but isn't that your -signature?"</p> - -<p>"It looks like my signature," admitted the Governor, after scanning the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</a></span> -writing closely.</p> - -<p>"But I can't for the life of me think what I wanted to see you about." -And turning now to the three men, he added: "You'll excuse us, please."</p> - -<p>Leaving the three Assemblymen he ushered his guests into the next room.</p> - -<p>"Comfortable quarters, Governor," commented Wilkinson; "almost comes up -to mine at home." And switching on more lights, Peter V. strayed boldly -into the inner room. "Hello, hello, who's here?" he suddenly called out.</p> - -<p>The woman who had been sitting on a couch came forth. She was plainly -agitated at the sight of the two men and the woman who now stood facing -her, for Leslie, unconsciously, had pressed to her father's side. In -the background, too, were the three committee-men.</p> - -<p>"Governor, it's all my fault," said Wilkinson, somewhat contritely. "I -beg your pardon for intruding on your—your privacy."</p> - -<p>The moment was a tense one, the Governor not daring to glance at Leslie.</p> - -<p>"There must be some mistake," he stammered out; and then advancing -towards the woman, he demanded angrily: "How did you——" but stopped -suddenly in amazement. "Why, Miss Braine—how do you come to be here?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</a></span></p> - -<p>Madeline Braine drew from her bosom a crumpled note.</p> - -<p>"I—I don't know," she faltered, "that is, I received this note from -you and I came. I supposed it was about the—the Ilingsworth case...."</p> - -<p>Wilkinson threw a significant glance over his shoulder toward the three -committee-men.</p> - -<p>"The Ilingsworth case," he repeated scornfully, meaningly.</p> - -<p>"They—the maid—ushered me in here," went on the woman.</p> - -<p>"What maid?" demanded the Governor, puzzled. "I have no maid. And, -what's more, I didn't write this letter—it's something that I cannot -understand."</p> - -<p>"It's something that <i>we</i> do not wish to understand," said Wilkinson, -suggestively.</p> - -<p>"I told you I would come whenever you wanted me," murmured Madeline -Braine, waving the note, in her agitation, toward the Governor, "and I -came."</p> - -<p>Wilkinson chuckled inwardly. In an instant he turned to his daughter -and whispered in a voice that could be heard all over the room:</p> - -<p>"Leslie, clearly this is no place for you. A Governor who turns his -apartments into.... Come, dear!" And he made a hurried movement to go. -But the Governor was too quick for him and blocked his path. His face -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</a></span> -had gone white with anger; he cried out:</p> - -<p>"What do you mean, sir?"</p> - -<p>Wilkinson sneered.</p> - -<p>"Do you want me to say it here?"</p> - -<p>"You've got to say it here," returned the other.</p> - -<p>Wilkinson waved his hand toward Miss Braine.</p> - -<p>"Then please explain her presence in your apartments,—your private, -apartments, if you can!"</p> - -<p>"I will not!" responded Beekman, looking at everybody save Leslie. "I -will not, because I cannot. Nor will she, because neither can she."</p> - -<p>"A complete misunderstanding all around," laughed Wilkinson. -"Nevertheless, I prefer to take my daughter to her rooms." And again he -made a movement to go.</p> - -<p>"You won't take your daughter to her rooms until you give me a good -reason why you're here, and why you choose to make these remarks," said -Beekman, belligerently.</p> - -<p>"I'll answer the last part of your question first because it's easier. -I choose to make these remarks because you're Governor of the State of -New York, and as a citizen of the State, I have a right to object to a -woman of her reputation...."</p> - -<p>"A woman of my reputation, did you say?" said Madeline Braine quietly, -and so marvellously well did she succeed in keeping her anger out of -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</a></span> -her voice that not for one moment did Wilkinson suspect the action -that was to follow. In a trice she had seized him by the throat with -the whole strength of her woman's hands and was pinning him up against -the wall.</p> - -<p>"Peter Wilkinson," she cried, "I'll teach you not to speak ill of a -woman!"</p> - -<p>But scarcely had these words fallen from her lips when she loosened her -hands and threw herself into a chair, sobbing. With merely a glance -at the woman who had assaulted him in this fashion, Wilkinson quickly -hurried to his daughter's side, who seemed on the point of fainting. It -was only a short time, however, before the woman had become calm, and -Beekman, turning to Wilkinson, demanded:</p> - -<p>"What is the meaning of this? So you know Miss Braine?"</p> - -<p>Again the worst in Wilkinson's nature asserted itself; he answered the -Governor's question with a question.</p> - -<p>"Do you know this woman's history, Governor Beekman?"</p> - -<p>The woman had gathered herself together and stood motionless with -downcast eyes, silent, inert.</p> - -<p>In his turn the Governor ignored the man's question and demanded:</p> - -<p>"Miss Braine, do you know this man?"</p> - -<p>The woman hesitated, while her eyes slowly wandered across the room -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[Pg 302]</a></span> -and rested on Leslie, standing with her hand in that of her father. A -moment more and Madeline Braine had answered firmly:</p> - -<p>"No, except through this Ilingsworth case."</p> - -<p>"The Ilingsworth case!" exclaimed Wilkinson; "always the Ilingsworth -case! Some day, Governor, the Ilingsworth case will be your undoing. -Some day——"</p> - -<p>Again there was an interruption. The private secretary pushed his way -into the group. He was received by the Governor, with:</p> - -<p>"Phillips, I'm delighted you've come. There's the biggest mix-up here -you ever saw. I don't understand it—nobody understands anything."</p> - -<p>He stopped short, for Phillips stood facing him with a curious -expression on his countenance, and holding out a folded letter.</p> - -<p>"My resignation as your private secretary, Governor Beekman."</p> - -<p>"Resignation!"</p> - -<p>"My reasons are obvious, but they are nevertheless stated in that -letter, and they will appear in the columns of the press to-morrow. It -is quite beyond me to remain upon the staff of a man who ..." Phillips' -voice quivered. He turned to the committee of three, and addressing -them, said:</p> - -<p>"Gentlemen, much as I dislike to follow your instructions, I have, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</a></span> -nevertheless, obeyed your <i>subpoena duces tecum</i>. In obedience thereto -I hand you the papers that you came here to find. I found them, not -here, but in the Governor's room at the Capitol. I think this is all -you want of me."</p> - -<p>The chairman of the committee took the papers in question and read -them, his associates looking over his shoulder; and when they had -finished reading them they looked at each other with an expression -on their faces, the meaning of which could easily be interpreted -without the exclamatory assurance given by one of them: "By George! -we've got the goods," highly illustrative of the situation as was that -gentleman's phraseology.</p> - -<p>"Well?" The Governor was speaking now.</p> - -<p>For answer they handed him two letters, one of which read:</p> - -<p><i>My dear Beekman</i>:</p> - -<blockquote><p>I now concede that the inducement offered in our interview of -yesterday was insufficient to justify you in acting in the -suggested manner. Let me now say, however, that the situation has -lifted itself out of the Ilingsworth case—we are fast climbing to -a higher plane. The legislature will pass our Trust Company law, -abolishing trust companies. I shall see to that. You must sign -the bill—you must see to that. There is a step beyond. We need -National legislation extending the power of National Banks—we -need good men in the Senate. Let me be clear—these are the things -we want: Wilkinson must be smashed. The first step toward that is -the pardon of Ilingsworth, for the Ilingsworth case gets us public -opinion—you can see that. Wilkinson has got to serve his term, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[Pg 304]</a></span> -otherwise he is a dangerous element. Pardon Ilingsworth, refuse -to pardon Wilkinson, sign the Trust Company Bill—all this you -can do for us. We can do much for you—beyond you lies the United -States Senatorship, and beyond that, who knows.... A good New York -man is in line for many things—if he's got the backing. You will -have ours. Better burn this letter.</p></blockquote> - -<p class="center">Yours, etc.,</p> - -<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Ougheltree</span>.</p> - -<p>The Governor read this letter silently, unmoved, and proceeded with -the other, which was not an original letter, but a carbon copy. It was -addressed to Ougheltree and was signed by Beekman.</p> - - -<p>"<i>Dear Sir</i>," it ran, "I am in receipt of your communication -with reference to the Ilingsworth petition for pardon. I note -everything you say and have considered it carefully. I shall do my -best to decide this case upon its merits, and will advise you of -the result.</p> - - -<p class="center">"Very truly,</p> - -<p class="right"><span class="smcap">"Eliot Beekman</span>.</p> - - - -<p>"This letter," said the Governor, handing the letters back and -referring to the carbon copy, "is a copy of my letter to Ougheltree; -the other letter I never saw."</p> - -<p>"But isn't it strange," asked the chairman, "that yours is an answer to -the other. Besides, his letter is dated one day, yours the next."</p> - -<p>The Governor took the letters again and looked them over still more -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[Pg 305]</a></span> -carefully. Finally he ordered Phillips to go to his, Beekman's, -private room and fetch Ougheltree's letter of that date.</p> - -<p>"This is his letter of that date," returned Phillips, referring to the -one already read.</p> - -<p>"Ougheltree did write me a letter of that date, gentlemen," conceded -the Governor, eyeing the other sternly. Whereupon Wilkinson winked -broadly at the committee, and the chairman took notes upon a little -pad. "But this is not the letter."</p> - -<p>The chairman smiled.</p> - -<p>"It's very strange," he said, meaningly.</p> - -<p>The committee returned to the reception-room and took seats round the -table.</p> - -<p>"You understand, Governor," said the chairman, "that we are -commissioned to report on these charges. We came here partly to get -evidence, partly to get your statement. You understand that the -Ilingsworth case is the pivot on which this turns."</p> - -<p>"I understand that, Mr. Chairman," said the Governor.</p> - -<p>"Do you mind telling us just why you pardoned this man Ilingsworth?" -inquired the other.</p> - -<p>Leslie leaned forward, drinking in every word. Even the lingering -respect that she had for Beekman was fast leaving her. Her father -had seen to that. Beekman was already sinking beneath the surface. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[Pg 306]</a></span> -Wilkinson intended that he should go down into ignominy shunned by all.</p> - -<p>Beekman still addressed the men of the committee, but now he looked at -Leslie.</p> - -<p>"Everybody knows why I pardoned Ilingsworth," he said. "Ilingsworth -didn't commit the crime."</p> - -<p>The chairman poised his pencil.</p> - -<p>"So it was a matter not susceptible of proof, wholly within your own -knowledge and the knowledge of no one else?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, that is true."</p> - -<p>"Come, Leslie," said her father, drawing her away; and turning to -Beekman he eyed him severely, and added "The price must have been big! -Too thin, Governor—that's too thin!"</p> - -<p>The next day the <i>Star</i> and the <i>Reporter</i> took up the hue and cry -against him. "Too thin" was the <i>Star's</i> headline, while the <i>Reporter</i> -denounced Beekman in scathing language; contended that in pardoning -such a man as Ilingsworth the Governor had deliberately let loose on -the community a murderer and an anarchist; and assured its readers that -in refusing clemency to Wilkinson the Governor had in cowardice yielded -to the popular clamour that someone should be made to suffer for the -iniquitous methods of the great financiers of the present day.</p> - -<p>"The present incumbent at Albany is a blot on the escutcheon of the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[Pg 307]</a></span> -Empire State," the editorial concluded. "The sooner the blot is wiped -out the better."</p> - -<p>The next day public opinion was swinging strongly against the Governor. -And, on his own motion, Beekman was suspended from office until the -charges against him had been tried.</p> - -<p>The next day Ougheltree's denial was ridiculed. What is more, the -<i>Morning Mail</i>, Ougheltree's paper, did not dare to take up the cudgels -in the Governor's behalf: it could no longer defend a man who was -charged with being implicated with its chief, since to do so would be -to admit its owner's part in the conspiracy. And yet Ougheltree was as -innocent as a new-born babe of having written the incriminating letter.</p> - -<p>In short, Beekman was doomed. He had climbed the hill and for an -instant had stood in the glory of the sunlight, only to find himself -suddenly dashed down to the bottom at break-neck pace.</p> - -<p>But not even this satisfied Wilkinson. Closeted later with Flomerfelt -in the big house on the Drive he ground his heel into the rug of his -den, exclaiming:</p> - -<p>"Never until he wallows in the mud, Flomerfelt, will I let up on him!"</p> - -<p>And in all this what of Leslie?</p> - -<p>Irrefutable evidence had been presented to her of the Governor's -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[Pg 308]</a></span> -unworthiness, and little wonder, then, that she had ranged herself -upon her father's side. Nevertheless, there were times when she would -shudder in silence. For out in the future it was certain that one of -three things must happen to her father, and she dreaded any one of -them.</p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[Pg 309]</a></span> -<h2><a name="XX" id="XX"></a>XX</h2> - -</div> -<p>"I suppose there is some painless way of putting him to death?"</p> - -<p>The voice was Wilkinson's. He was seated on the veranda at Cobblestone, -his Morris County place, and opposite to him sat a complacent, -side-whiskered M. D. from Morristown. The complacence of the M. D. -was due in great measure to the fact that a check reposed in his -waistcoat-pocket. It was a goodly check, too; Wilkinson had been -ailing, and the bill was heavy.</p> - -<p>"I don't want him to suffer at all," went on Wilkinson. "I merely want -him to pass away and not feel it."</p> - -<p>"Humph! He's of no further use?" returned Dr. Parker Wetherell.</p> - -<p>"Tigerskin is twenty years old, nearly blind, and can hardly hobble a -step. My dear Wetherell, that horse has won me no end of money on the -track! He's been worth his weight in gold! I hate to think of him as -dead." He laid a cold hand upon the doctor's. "How about chloroform? -It's safe, painless——"</p> - -<p>"It's painless enough," interrupted the physician, "but it's not always -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[Pg 310]</a></span> -sure."</p> - -<p>Wilkinson's hand trembled.</p> - -<p>"It kills men sure enough, doesn't it?"</p> - -<p>Wetherell shook his head.</p> - -<p>"Not sure enough," he answered. "They come out of it when one least -expects it."</p> - -<p>"Strychnine, then, or prussic acid?" suggested Wilkinson.</p> - -<p>Again Wetherell shook his head.</p> - -<p>"I wouldn't give either of them to my dearest enemy," he opined. "My -advice is, not...." He drew forth a tiny cigarette and lighted it. -"My suggestion, Mr. Wilkinson—of course I'm not a horse doctor, and -there's no charge for this—my method, rather, would be powder and -shot—the old-fashioned way...."</p> - -<p>"Pistol?"</p> - -<p>"Yes."</p> - -<p>"A pistol bullet through the heart?" went on Wilkinson, his hand still -resting lightly on the doctor's and his voice trembling. "Let's see, -you know I'm going to do this thing myself,—a horse's heart is in the -same place as a man's, isn't it?" He placed his hand on the right side -of his chest about even with his shoulder.</p> - -<p>"Good gracious, man!" piped up the doctor, growing red in the face with -laughter. "Don't you know where your heart is? Didn't you ever go to -school?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[Pg 311]</a></span></p> - -<p>Wilkinson flushed.</p> - -<p>"Don't tread on facts, Doc," he protested.</p> - -<p>"Your heart is right there," explained the physician, placing the -millionaire's big paw-like hand over the right spot, and waiting until -Wilkinson could feel it throb. "You hear it beat?" he asked. "That's -where your heart is; but don't ever shoot a horse, or a man, either, -through the heart unless you want him to suffer the tortures of the -damned. He might linger hours in terrific pain. No, no, the head's the -place...."</p> - -<p>Wilkinson shifted his hand from his heart to his head.</p> - -<p>"Quickly, eh?" he continued eagerly, "and painless, too."</p> - -<p>The specialist replied in the affirmative.</p> - -<p>"Suppose, now," continued Peter V., "that we had old Tigerskin here. -Just what part of the head would I aim at? Back here?"</p> - -<p>"The temple," said the doctor.</p> - -<p>"That's back here, isn't it?" persisted his patient, forcing a laugh at -his own ignorance. "Where is it on a horse, anyhow?"</p> - -<p>Parker Wetherell touched his own forehead, and said:</p> - -<p>"Just about where it is on a man. Right here at the side of the head in -front of the ear."</p> - -<p>Wilkinson had withdrawn his hand and was tapping the table in front of -him nervously.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[Pg 312]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Doc," he insisted, "just put my finger on the spot—here on my -head—and when I get Tigerskin, why then I'll know...."</p> - -<p>The physician seized his patient's pudgy finger, held it for an instant -poised half an inch from the big man's head, and then jammed it into -the temple with precision.</p> - -<p>"There," he exclaimed, "that's just the spot!"</p> - -<p>"You don't say," returned Wilkinson. "I never would have thought -it—and a ball through there would do the trick?"</p> - -<p>"Man or beast—he'd never know what struck him." And then as Wilkinson -removed his arm, the doctor sprang forward in alarm, and added: "Why, -look, here, Mr. Wilkinson, you've smeared a lot of ink up there!"</p> - -<p>"Where?"</p> - -<p>"On your temple. Your finger must have dipped into the inkwell...."</p> - -<p>Wilkinson looked at his finger with a grimace, then he looked at the -surface of the table upon which was a round, wet splotch of ink. Upon -the end of his finger, which evidently had rested for an instant upon -the spot on the table, was a similar splotch; and when Wetherell had -jammed the finger into his temple, it being still moist with the dusky -fluid, it had left a small round spot on his forehead. With a hasty -movement Wilkinson drew forth his handkerchief and started it on the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[Pg 313]</a></span> -way to his head.</p> - -<p>"Hold on!" he suddenly exclaimed. "I'll get my kerchief stained, too. -I'll go to the bathroom and wash it off, if you'll excuse me."</p> - -<p>Wilkinson rose, but some sudden tremour seemed to seize him.</p> - -<p>"Nerves a bit shaky yet, Doc," he complained. And, turning, walked -through an open window. Behind the palms his daughter Leslie was -reading a book; she had heard scraps of the conversation without, and -glanced up at him questioningly. "Trying to find out just where to -shoot old Tigerskin," he stopped to explain, "and got myself all ink."</p> - -<p>Leslie laughed, and he continued his way through the room and up one -flight of stairs to the bathroom.</p> - -<p>"A bull's-eye—a perfect bull's-eye that," he whispered to himself, -looking in the glass. Then suddenly whipping out of his hip-pocket a -revolver, he aimed for the small, black spot upon his forehead.</p> - -<p>Parker Wetherell, M. D., down on the veranda, having taken from his -waistcoat-pocket Leslie's check, was glancing on it with reverence; but -soon the reverie into which he had plunged was rudely interrupted: a -pistol shot rang out, followed almost instantly by a woman's scream. -Wetherell leaped to his feet.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[Pg 314]</a></span></p> - -<p>"He tricked me," he whispered, turning pale, "the painless method was -for himself, not for Tigerskin."</p> - -<p>With an answering shout he ran pell-mell up the stairs. In the bathroom -he found three people: Hawkins, Wilkinson's new valet, Leslie and -Wilkinson, the latter swaying to and fro in the grasp of the other two. -In his hand he held a smoking revolver; and as the doctor seized him, -he smiled a ghastly smile and exclaimed:</p> - -<p>"I missed it, Doc! Missed!... My little painless program didn't pull -through!"</p> - -<p>That night all Morris County, all New York, had the news, specials -having been gotten out by the various papers to that effect.</p> - -<p>"It's up to you, Hawkins," said the District Attorney over the wire to -Wilkinson's new valet; "we've got to have this man alive, and not dead. -You've got to be Johnny-on-the-spot every minute of the time."</p> - -<p>And that was precisely what was the trouble, so far as Wilkinson -was concerned. Hawkins was too much Johnny-on-the-spot to suit his -purposes. Down in his home on the Drive Jeffries had resigned from his -position, and the new man who took his place was one of Murgatroyd's -shrewdest men, which meant that Peter V. Wilkinson, under a ten-year -sentence, out on a million-dollar bail, was surrounded by a net-work -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[Pg 315]</a></span> -of Murgatroyd's making. Murgatroyd was seeing to it successfully that -Wilkinson couldn't run away. Wilkinson had said that one of three -things confronted him: prison, flight or suicide. The second seemed -to have been eliminated from the program of possibilities; the first -he had sworn never to endure; and as for suicide, Murgatroyd had -said it was up to Hawkins.... But there were other guards also who -interposed: Leslie watched her father as a mother watches an errant -child. Wetherell, too, sniffing more big checks, suggested other -safeguards, and called with undue regularity. Every servant in the -household and even the pudgy Mrs. Wilkinson herself—Flomerfelt had -warned her that his death now would upset all their plans—kept on the -look-out. Morristown druggists were warned to be sure to whom they sold -poisons. Express and mail packages were scrutinised with care. No end -of precaution was being exercised to thwart his plans.</p> - -<p>"Seems to be an awful lot of fuss about it," remarked Mrs. Peter V., as -she scanned the daily press. "If I tried suicide, I wonder...."</p> - -<p>"Probably not," grinned Wilkinson, feebly, "unless you succeeded in the -attempt."</p> - -<p>Now Murgatroyd's men were handicapped in one respect: Murgatroyd -never trained detectives to be servants; he trained servants to be -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[Pg 316]</a></span> -detectives. Hawkins, the valet, and Watson, Jeffries' successor, -were born to yellow plush, and had acquired the detective polish -later. Their handicap was, that they must maintain their character -as servants. They must obey, must efface themselves, must serve ... -otherwise the game was spoiled. When Wilkinson roared a command which -sent them off for half an hour, they had to go. But the intervention of -the family now helped them out: it became an unwritten rule that Peter -V. must never be left alone, save in the night-time when he slept in -an apartment stripped of everything save a bed and chair. This last -arrangement he consented to only after Wetherell had threatened him -with sanatorium confinement.</p> - -<p>It happened, therefore, that one day, Wilkinson, weary of this close -surveillance, remarked to Leslie:</p> - -<p>"Let's go back to the Drive, child. I'm sick of the still nights up -here."</p> - -<p>And indeed Leslie was not sorry of the opportunity to go. There was -one reason in particular for this: Cobblestone was but a quarter of a -mile away from the Ilingsworth place; and Ilingsworth's place, like -its former owner, had become a wreck. It was overgrown with weeds, was -falling gradually to pieces; upon it had been laid the heavy hand of -disuse and decay. The heavy mortgage on the place had been foreclosed; -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[Pg 317]</a></span> -the property laid vacant, idle; it had become an eye-sore to Leslie. -Besides, vague rumour had it that the place was haunted—lights, -even, having been seen in the rooms at night. It was none of these -things, however, that had disquieted Leslie, but the fact that one -night at dusk as she tripped along the road, a man had darted from the -road-side, and laying a detaining hand upon her arm, had said to her:</p> - -<p>"I wish you could help me find my daughter. I've tried to beg, borrow, -steal even, to get enough to find her, but——" he had stopped to -search her face, "but you're a Wilkinson, I see; you wouldn't help;" -and letting her go, he suddenly disappeared in the shadows.</p> - -<p>Naturally, the girl had been frightened. Afterwards, however, she -regretted that she had not tried to detain Ilingsworth, for he it was, -since there were mysteries about him which she could not understand. -If he had lost his daughter, why did he not use the money that he had -stowed away—the millions that her father had told her about,—and -why was the mortgage on his place foreclosed? The mortgage on her own -father's place had not been foreclosed, she was sure of that. And so -insistent became the pressure of these doubts that one night just -before they returned to town, she sent a servant over with a note to -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[Pg 318]</a></span> -Ilingsworth. Leslie knew him for a murderer, a forger, a perjurer, a -thief, and yet some instinct drove her to this act.</p> - -<blockquote><p>" ... Some time," she wrote, "when we are out of our own trouble, -if there is anything that I can do—for Elinor—believe me I shall -do it—the very best I can."</p></blockquote> - -<p>It now became known throughout the Wilkinson household -on-the-Drive—and, likewise, to the inner sanctum of District Attorney -Murgatroyd's office—that Peter V. Wilkinson contemplated a trip to -Maine. There was reason for it: the city sweltered in mid-August heat. -Peter V. had no house or shooting-box in Maine—his game being men, not -beasts,—and accordingly a suite of rooms at a hotel was engaged by -wire. Railroad tickets were purchased; trunks were packed; appointments -made with his nearest and dearest friends to meet him there for a -three-weeks' jaunt. Every essential detail was attended to; nothing was -overlooked. But there was one strange thing about it all: Leslie, who -usually accompanied him, was to be left behind; Wilkinson was going -alone with Hawkins. It was his frolic; he did not want to be hampered -by anyone. But Hawkins and the District Attorney knew that Wilkinson -would not be lonely: a chambermaid to have charge of his suite of rooms -at the hotel in Maine was despatched from the Borough of Manhattan; -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[Pg 319]</a></span> -two bell-boys were installed; from the instant that Wilkinson should -reach the East Side pier in New York he would be attended by a drove of -sleuths.</p> - -<p>But did Wilkinson have any suspicion of all this? If he did, not by -word or look did he betray as much.</p> - -<p>On the day of his departure, Peter V., with a matter-of-fact air, -handed to Hawkins a small, oblong, heavy, cold, metallic package, -saying:</p> - -<p>"Hawkins, just stick that in my suit-case."</p> - -<p>Alone, later, the valet opened and examined the package, and found, as -he suspected, that it contained another revolver, hammerless, sinister, -ominous.</p> - -<p>"Suicide in Maine!" He emitted a whistle, and added: "Not if I know it, -Mr. Wilkinson."</p> - -<p>He discussed at length with Murgatroyd the ease with which Wilkinson -might throw himself overboard, or might shoot or poison himself in his -stateroom. But "Hawkins, it's up to you to see that he doesn't ..." was -all the satisfaction that he received from the District Attorney.</p> - -<p>Their preparations completed, Hawkins now stepped into the presence of -his master, and announced:</p> - -<p>"Colonel Morehead, sir, to see you."</p> - -<p>Wilkinson descended to his Den, entered and locked the door behind him. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[Pg 320]</a></span> -After fifteen minutes of desultory conversation, he held out his hand, -and said, his voice trembling:</p> - -<p>"Good-bye, old boy! We shall never meet in life again—good-bye!"</p> - -<p>Colonel Morehead stared curiously at his client. He asked no questions, -but merely took Peter's hand within his own and pressed it hard.</p> - -<p>"Good-bye, Peter," was all he said.</p> - - - -<p>Wilkinson, watch in hand, stood at the open door.</p> - -<p>"Look sharp, now, with those grips," he directed. And turning to -Watson, his new footman: "Watson, time is the essence of this thing. Go -up and help Hawkins, and be quick about it, please."</p> - -<p>Out of the corner of his eye, Watson glanced at Wilkinson; that -gentleman was holding his gaze upon his watch. It all seemed safe.... -So Watson obeyed, running swiftly down the broad hall and swiftly up -the stairs.</p> - -<p>"Get a move on, Hawkins," he whispered; "he's down there all alone."</p> - -<p>The multi-millionaire waited until Watson was well out of sight, then -going quietly to the open door he passed through, and walking rapidly -to the corner of the street, turned and disappeared—disappeared, and -that was all that could be said about it. No, there was this to be -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[Pg 321]</a></span> -said: His trunks went on to Maine, and when opened there later were -found to reek with poison—anæsthetics, chiefly, that stupefied and -killed; while tucked away in one corner was a gun. Wilkinson had been -cunning: he had done things under the nose of Hawkins that Hawkins had -not surmised, much less seen.</p> - -<p>But Wilkinson had not quite disappeared after all! There were some -who saw him after his disappearance, though they were not members of -his household, nor were they officials in the employ of the county -or State: they were casual observers, mere pleasure-seekers down at -Brighton Beach. For later on that day a man with a bristling beard -stepped into Obermeyer's Bathing Pavilion at the Beach, stepped up to -the desk, as he had done several times before,—for Wilkinson loved -promiscuity—he was essentially of the people,—and nodding to the -clerk, passed out his wallet, his pin and other valuables, sealed them -in an envelope, writing his name quite plainly upon it, and handed it -to the man behind the desk. The recipient glanced at the name, glanced -at the man interestedly, then gave him a fifty-cent bathing-suit, -two checks on rubber strings and a key; and Wilkinson, taking these, -proceeded to his allotted booth.</p> - -<p>"Can I check that, too?" the clerk called after him, referring to -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[Pg 322]</a></span> -a brown paper parcel which Wilkinson carried under his arm. But -Wilkinson shook his head, and the incident passed out of the clerk's -mind, for the next man was becoming angrily insistent.</p> - -<p>Once inside his booth, Peter V. stripped to the skin and donned the -bathing-suit. So far he had followed the prescribed method of bathers -at Obermeyer's as well as every other pavilion in the universe. But -at this juncture he departed from custom: For having donned the -bathing-suit, he did not, as other men do, unlock the door and run -flat-footed to the beach; instead, he opened the brown paper bundle and -looked over its contents with considerable satisfaction. It contained a -complete suit of underwear, clothing, hat and shoes—all second-hand; -and over his Obermeyer bathing-suit he drew on these clothes, one by -one, jamming the soft, felt hat upon his head. Then folding up the -brown paper he tied it carefully with the string, and placed it in the -side-pocket of his coat, taking good care at the same time to remove -from the trousers pocket of the suit he had discarded a goodly roll of -bills.</p> - -<p>Now fully dressed in his new garments—leaving his own clothes behind, -he left the room, and locked the door, forgetting neither his brass -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[Pg 323]</a></span> -checks, nor to place the bathhouse key on the ledge above the door.</p> - -<p>"So far so good," he whispered to himself.</p> - -<p>Curiously enough, however, he did not join the crowds upon the -beach, but sought another bathing pavilion a quarter of a mile -away—Helmstaedter's—where he was not known. There he repeated the -process: went to the desk; obtained a twenty-five cent bathing-suit, -but this time he deposited no valuables, having none that were visible. -Then with his second bathing-suit he stepped into one of Helmstaedter's -dressing-rooms, and again he undressed, stripping to the skin as -before, and donning now the Helmstaedter bathing-suit, he opened the -door, closed it behind him, and took his way to the beach.</p> - -<p>And now, since Peter V. had gone to Brighton Beach for the ostensible -purpose of bathing, Peter V. bathed. But strangely enough, though -he had Helmstaedter's bathing-suit upon him, he did not bathe from -Helmstaedter's; on the contrary, he strode up the beach and bathed at -Obermeyer's. An expert swimmer, he was known to the life guard, who saw -him and warned him with:</p> - -<p>"Better look out, Mr. Wilkinson, two big men had cramps out there -yesterday. I had the time of my life bringing them in."</p> - -<p>"Never mind me," laughed Wilkinson, "there's no fear of my having -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[Pg 324]</a></span> -cramps to-day." And with that he plunged boldly into the surf. When -the life guard last saw him, Wilkinson was merely a speck far out upon -the surface of the sunlit sea.</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p>That evening, while all New York was looking for him, while Hawkins -and Watson were being soundly rated by the District Attorney, while -Flomerfelt and Mrs. Peter V. were laying new plans, while Leslie wept -in the silence of her room, that evening one of the Obermeyer helpers -making his rounds, discovered the clothes of Peter V. Wilkinson, the -Trust Company man, in his booth. The clerk at the desk produced the -banker's wallet containing hundreds of dollars, his pin and other -valuables. But the bathing-suit, the brass checks, and Peter V. -Wilkinson were nowhere to be found.</p> - -<p>"Suicide," at once said the press; family and friends said "drowning -accident," and the life guard backed them up. Furthermore, -Hawkins produced the pistol and poisons taken from the trunks in -Maine—evidences of suicidal intent. These strengthened and deepened -the theory of suicide. Even Murgatroyd, after thinking it over, was -satisfied that such was the case. As for Colonel Morehead, he would -sit for hours in his office, staring at the wall, never coming to -any conclusion. "Peter's certainly got me guessing," was the way he -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[Pg 325]</a></span> -acknowledged his inability to solve the problem. Nor did the ocean -ever give up Peter from its capacious depths.</p> - -<p>Of all the men in New York County there was one, however, who had a -theory. This man was tall, slender, handsome, a man in authority. After -the county detectives had given up the search, and after the newspaper -reporters had faded from the scene, this man quietly went down to -Brighton Beach and interviewed the clerk.</p> - -<p>"I wonder," he asked himself, as under his gruelling cross-examination -the clerk searched the remotest confines of his memory, "I wonder what -Wilkinson had in that brown paper bundle, and what became of it. Was it -drowned, too?"</p> - -<p>But of all the people down at Brighton Beach, only one man <i>knew</i> -the movements of Peter V., and that was Peter V. himself. He had -had his swim; he had gone far out, ducked and swam under water -for a distance, and finally had gone ashore near Helmstaedter's -pavilion—Helmstaedter's pavilion, where he belonged and where he was -not known. Dripping, glowing from his bath, he had entered the pavilion -with hundreds of bathers and gone at once to his booth.</p> - -<p>The rest was simple. Having dried himself, he once more donned the -dry, Obermeyer bathing-suit, drew on top of that his second-hand -suit of clothes, smashed his soft hat down on his head, and left -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[Pg 326]</a></span> -the pavilion by the street entrance. And pushing through the back -streets and alleyways which were crowded with the cheaper order of -pleasure-seekers, eating "hot-dogs," he darted into a barber-shop and -leaned back in the chair with a grunt of satisfaction.</p> - -<p>"Too hot for spinach, Tony," he remarked in the genial vernacular of -the day, "so shave her off."</p> - -<p>Tony did as he was bid; and when Wilkinson rose and glanced into Tony's -glass, he looked upon a countenance that he would never have recognised -for his own. In former days his cheeks were plump and muscular, his -chin bold, and his lips expressive. But for some years now a beard had -covered his face; his lips and chin and jowls had been unused. So that -not only was he not the Peter V. Wilkinson of the present day, but he -was not the Peter V. Wilkinson of any day: he was just a very average -man in a second-hand suit of clothes.</p> - -<p>"So long, Tony!" he sang out, and soon he was lost in the crowd.</p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[Pg 327]</a></span> -<h2><a name="XXI" id="XXI"></a>XXI</h2> -</div> - -<p>Wandering aimlessly through Madison Square Park one evening ex-Governor -Beekman suddenly felt someone tugging at his arm, and swinging round -quickly to shake himself from the other's grasp, yet glancing down to -see what sort of a person had accosted him, he saw that it was a woman, -that she looked pale and weary, that her clothes were very shabby, -and that she seemed to be in sad straits. Instantly he was conscious -of a feeling of pity for her, at the same time he was angry with -himself, angry with the fates that prevented him from doing what he had -repeatedly done under similar circumstances in times past. For Beekman, -always a tender, kind-hearted fellow, had never been one to look down -upon less fortunate beings, and rarely lost an opportunity whereby he -might do a kindness to some poor unfortunate.</p> - -<p>"What do you want of me?" he asked, not unkindly.</p> - -<p>"I—I've been looking for you," said the woman. "I——"</p> - -<p>The man pulled himself up quickly. Here was someone who knew him, and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[Pg 328]</a></span> -of late he had been shunning the sight of his acquaintances. Again he -shot a sharp glance at the woman: the intruder was Madeline Braine. The -moment that he recognised her, Beekman was aware of a spasm of pain; -too well she brought back to his memory the things he was trying to -forget; nevertheless, he said with a pleasant smile:</p> - -<p>"Why, of course, you're Miss Braine. I know you now. How stupid of -me.... But what do you want of me?"</p> - -<p>The woman did not immediately answer. She stood by him silent, -motionless, looking vaguely into space. After a while she said -falteringly:</p> - -<p>"I—I don't know what I wish with you. Really I—misery——"</p> - -<p>" ... loves company," he finished for her under his breath while -reflecting: "How can one man be responsible for so much?" for it had -been borne in upon him that the woman, like himself, was a social -outcast with the hand of Wilkinson heavy on her, still pressing her -down though he was no more.</p> - -<p>The woman seemed to have read his thoughts, for she broke in upon them -with:</p> - -<p>"Oh, you didn't know Peter V. Wilkinson as I did! I've felt his force, -sir, indeed I have.... But we won't talk about my story.... Won't you -tell me yours, for I know——" She stopped abruptly and looked up at -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[Pg 329]</a></span> -him, a strange, pathetic look in her eyes. And whether it was her rare -beauty that appealed to him, or that she was so intensely human toward -one who had been thrust into the gutter, at any rate she seemed like a -bit of heaven opening up to him.</p> - -<p>Therefore it was not long before he was pouring out into her ears all -his sufferings at the hands of Wilkinson, and already he was beginning -to like her because of the sorrow they had in common.</p> - -<p>"Tell me," he said to her, "how can a man like that set my friends -against me—hound me out of my clubs."</p> - -<p>"I read about you and the Barristers'. You were treasurer—they claimed -your books were crooked. I knew——"</p> - -<p>"My bookkeeper must have been one of Wilkinson's men. Of course I made -it good. But that was nothing compared with the charge itself—enough -to damn any man! I had investments, mortgages, but how he succeeded in -tying up those properties in a night, destroy the neighbourhood, cut -their value in two, is what dazes me. The power of the man is beyond -me—I can't understand it."</p> - -<p>"I can understand it all," she answered, "only you've injured him more -than I ever did."</p> - -<p>"There is Judge Gilchrist, for instance," he went on, "what hasn't -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[Pg 330]</a></span> -he done to him? The man's reputation is gone, and as for mine...." -He held his head very high. "They may have robbed me of my money, my -clients may have been forced to leave me, but there's one thing they -can't do to me—they can't take my profession from me. The Judges -know—they believe...."</p> - -<p>"But Wilkinson could have you disbarred if he were alive, you must know -that," she insisted hopelessly.</p> - -<p>"Never!" he answered defiantly. "He can't fool the courts. And some day -I'm going to climb back ... even if I have to crawl there on my hands -and knees."</p> - -<p>"I'd like to help you win your place back in the world," she spoke up, -remembering his kindness to her, then she stopped, her face flushing -with the sudden realisation which was forcing itself upon her, that who -was she to stand beside any man in his fight against the world, she, a -creature rejected by everyone, penniless, with a fight of her own on -her hands?</p> - -<p>"I shouldn't have said this," she went on by way of explanation. "I'm -rather a weak ally to"—she paused to push back a stray lock that the -wind insisted upon blowing in her face, but in reality it was to brush -away the tears that clung to her eyelids. Beekman saw this, and his -heart went out to her, for he knew that hard as was his lot, hers must -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[Pg 331]</a></span> -be infinitely harder.</p> - -<p>"It wouldn't have been so," presently she continued. "But there was no -one to care for me—no one to care what became of me. I was a silly, -vain creature like thousands of others...."</p> - -<p>For some time the conversation held to this strain. At last the girl -put out her hand and said with a faint little smile on her lips:</p> - -<p>"Governor Beekman—for I must still call you so—it looks like a case -of down and out for both of us. If you'll give me your address, I'll -give you mine. One can never tell, you know...."</p> - -<p>"That's very true," he answered sadly, and proceeded to scribble his -name and address on a leaf of his note book, tore out the leaf and -passed it over to her; then scribbling her address, as she repeated -it, upon another leaf, he added with genuine sincerity: "If I can ever -be of service to you, Miss Braine, don't hesitate to call upon me." He -took the hand which she gave him, and once more their ways parted.</p> - -<p>The next morning Beekman's superior—Beekman had obtained a job -with the Title Company, after he had been frozen out of his law -practice—called him into the inside office.</p> - -<p>"I'm sorry to tell you," he began, "it's not personal with me at all, -but the company have given me orders to ask you to resign...."</p> - -<p>"I knew they would," said Beekman, pocketing his salary. "I expect to -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">[Pg 332]</a></span> -spend the rest of my natural life in resignation. I've resigned from -six positions now, and am being kicked out of the seventh. I bear no -malice to anybody except the man above.... If he's alive, I hope to get -him one of these days; if he isn't," he smiled genially, "why, he's -getting his reward right now."</p> - -<p>The hounding of Beekman had become an easy matter. Once driven out of -independent business and shunned by people of his kind, he was forced -to apply for salaried positions. After that the story was always the -same, except that each time he kept asking lower and lower wages, -getting them until he was turned off. And he was always turned off—no -longer was his resignation requested.</p> - -<p>" ... we can't have a thief in our employ," was the customary -remark. Some imputed to him hideous morals; others charged him with -drunkenness, but always with the same result.</p> - -<p>In the beginning he had thought of leaving town and going West; but the -Beekman grit was in him and it declined to capitulate.</p> - -<p>"I'll fight it out here, alone," he had told himself a thousand times, -"here, where I belong—where she is. I'll fight—I'll never run -away...."</p> - -<p>The temptation to escape he had put behind him long ago, but there -were other things that assailed him. He had the name of everything -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">[Pg 333]</a></span> -that was disreputable, he knew that. Even the newspapers from time -to time referred to him as being connected with fracases that never -had occurred, or if they had, had happened in his absence. Day after -day, night after night he walked the streets with shame clinging to -him. To-day he held his position, but never knowing when the merciless -hounds of the Wilkinson system would corrupt his employers and turn him -out. He grew shabby, shabbier, and all too swiftly, too. But he was -glad of one thing: his pride had never left him; he kept himself neat -and clean. He felt, though, that these were things that would slip from -him as he slumped down into the army of the unknown. Many times he had -to combat the temptation to take to drink, to drugs, to the comfortable -vices of the vagabond.</p> - -<p>"I've got the name," he told himself, "the name,"—and unquestionably -Leslie believed it—for would not he have believed these things of his -dearest friends had the evidence been the same as it was in his own -case?—"And that's where Wilkinson was strong—he always had proofs.... -Yes. I've got the name, why not the game?" he would reason, as he kept -slipping down, down, down.</p> - -<p>But through it all the same instinct kept him straight. "I'll stick it -out alone," he kept saying over and over again. Leslie had told him -once that he was a man of destiny, and he still felt it. As long as -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">[Pg 334]</a></span> -there was life there was hope. Help must come to him in some form some -day, and when he faced her, he must face her clean. Never once did he -blame her for his plight. He saw too well and clearly that she, too, -was the victim of the Wilkinson system, and all the more so because -she was Wilkinson's daughter. In Beekman's mind the truth was slowly -forcing itself that Leslie's plight was worse than his, for she was -unconsciously the innocent instrument of vengeance.</p> - -<p>"I've got to stay decent for her sake," he kept repeating to himself. -But as time went on, one horrible temptation kept pressing, closing in -upon him.</p> - -<p>Night after night he haunted the more isolated East Side piers. Night -after night he glanced down into the smooth, dark waters flowing -silently past him, with a glance that held within it some deep -meaning. Night after night as his body became lean and gaunt, as the -lines deepened in his young face, as his pockets emptied themselves, -magically, so it seemed, as he stared starvation in the face, the -waters seemed to beckon to him, and death seemed, somehow, pleasanter -than life.</p> - -<p>The time had come when he knew, when he was assured past all mistake, -that he was at his rope's end.</p> - -<p>"I'm down at the bottom of the pit and there's no way up," he whispered -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">[Pg 335]</a></span> -to himself, and held out his arms for an instant toward the waters. -"There's no way out but you, you," he went on, his purpose clinging -desperately to him. He stopped and drew back from the edge and crouched -against the stringpiece. For across the pier something had arrested -his attention. A shadow deeper than the night, and part and parcel of -the night itself, was creeping toward the edge. This shadow was the -only moving thing that Beekman had ever seen upon this lonely pier. His -nerves became suddenly alert, for now he saw that this shadow was a -human being—a woman bent upon a woman's desperate purpose. He watched -the shadow spellbound.</p> - -<p>Suddenly the woman lifted her hands high above her head, and with the -wail of a hunted animal, cast herself off the stringpiece and into the -river underneath.</p> - -<p>In the twinkling of an eye he had jerked off his coat and shoes and -thrown himself into the stream. He caught her as she came up, but -she clutched him and struggled, not to save herself, but to cast him -off. Like a maniac she fought and the two went down together, Beekman -gurgling in distress. By some superhuman effort he conquered her -underneath the water, and coming up, held her, limp and inert with one -hand, while he swam slowly, for his strength, owing to starvation, was -fast ebbing. Somehow he managed to climb up the rough sides of the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">[Pg 336]</a></span> -pier, bundling her up ahead of him, and laid her down, unconscious, -on the stringpiece, where she lay for some time. When she had revived, -however, the mania once more possessed her.</p> - -<p>"Leave me alone, please leave me alone!" she cried, her strength -returning. "You've no right to interfere—no right to touch me...."</p> - -<p>Beekman held her tight until her paroxysm ceased, and once more she lay -inert in his arms. Finally she opened her eyes and looked about her.</p> - -<p>"You're going to come along with me," he told her gently, forcing her -on; but she tried to tear herself loose again. After a little while he -succeeded in getting her to the street, but there, with some strength -more powerful than his, she suddenly jerked herself from him and held -him at arm's length, though he still held his grip upon her wrists.</p> - -<p>"Let me go! Let me go, I say! I'm tired—tired of men—tired of men -like you!" she wailed. "I want to go home—I want to go back to my -father—back to my father...."</p> - -<p>And still he held on to her, held on until he got her underneath the -street lamps, where he looked into her face. She was worn and haggard, -but her dark, lustrous eyes were something to remember. "She must have -been very beautiful," he thought, and wondered.</p> - -<p>"Look at me!" he said in a voice that startled her into consciousness; -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">[Pg 337]</a></span> -"you've got to trust me! I'm going to take you home——"</p> - -<p>"My home?" she cried feebly.</p> - -<p>"Yes. Where is your home?"</p> - -<p>The girl made no answer, but commenced to weep. At length, she said:</p> - -<p>"If I had a home, do you suppose I would have attempted what you have -just prevented me from doing? Home? Let me go, please let me go!" and -again she fell to sobbing.</p> - -<p>"Then I'll take you to my own home," he said; and added to himself: -"I'm good for one more day there at any rate."</p> - -<p>"No, no, no!" she cried, trying to break away from him. "I want my -father, just father—Oh, father...."</p> - -<p>"Don't fight against me. I'm going to help you to find your home, your -father. Come, trust me!"</p> - -<p>And the girl, too weak to resist him any longer, allowed herself to be -led away by him.</p> - - - -<p>In a cheap hotel on this same East Side a man sat among other men -of his own type, drinking with apparent gusto a huge glass of beer. -Between sips he smoked a pipe. His clothes were soiled, stained with -tobacco, they reeked with the odour of the place. He had just finished -telling a story to an English sailor, who slapped his thigh and howled -in glee.</p> - -<p>"That's a good 'un, matey!" cried the sailor. "But I arn't got one to -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338">[Pg 338]</a></span> -match it, stow the luck!"</p> - -<p>The storyteller's last chuckles had subsided and he had drained his -glass to the dregs, when suddenly a man entered the place and thrust -himself into the group that sat around the table. This newcomer was of -a different class from the others. He was tall, square, handsome, and -his air and clothes and manner betokened one of the better classes. -The genial storyteller set down his glass, grinned once more at the -English sailor, and then following the sailor's glance, looked up at -the stranger. He found the stranger was glancing down at him with an -intentness that was disconcerting, to say the least.</p> - -<p>The stranger slowly extended his hand toward the group, his forefinger -levelling itself in the direction of the genial storyteller.</p> - -<p>"I want to talk to you," he said.</p> - -<p>The man at whom he pointed faltered for an instant. His first instinct -was to give the signal and get his cronies to bear down upon this -stranger and throw him to the ground.</p> - -<p>The stranger—who was no other than Leech, an Assistant District -Attorney of the County of New York, who had become famous chiefly -as the lawyer who had sent Peter V. Wilkinson up for a ten-years' -term—saw the look, interpreted it correctly, but he only laughed in -the man's face.</p> - -<p>"There are three of my men outside," he whispered, bending down, and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339">[Pg 339]</a></span> -then straightened up once more. "Where can we talk?" he asked.</p> - -<p>The other man lumbered to his feet and bowed awkwardly, saying:</p> - -<p>"Excuse me, gents."</p> - -<p>At the foot of the stairs that opened near the street, Leech held the -other in conversation for an instant—just long enough to permit three -men without to see his man. None of the three knew who he was, but all -knew that they should know him at any future time.</p> - -<p>The next instant the two had passed upstairs, where the man had a room.</p> - -<p>"Well, Wilkinson," said Leech, once they were behind closed doors, and -passing over a fifty-cent cigar, "you turned it pretty neat, but you -didn't fool me."</p> - -<p>"I see I didn't," returned Wilkinson, limply.</p> - -<p>"You were going to stay here until you could make a get away, I -suppose," went on Leech. "You did it cleverly, but," he shook his head, -"there was a man cleverer than you in little old New York—that's me."</p> - -<p>"You're an intruder," retorted Wilkinson, leaning over toward the -other. "I was just getting used to the life here—liked it, in fact."</p> - -<p>"It's the butcher blood coming out in you," conceded Leech. "Reversion -to a type. I suppose this is really where a man like you belongs."</p> - -<p>"Who else knows about me?" asked Wilkinson, coolly enough.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340">[Pg 340]</a></span></p> - -<p>Leech screwed up an eye.</p> - -<p>"Did you think I was fool enough to give you away?" He paused a moment -to watch the effect of his words upon the other, then he went on: -"Nobody followed you up—nobody knows but myself. Listen, Wilkinson, -and I'll tell you how you did it."</p> - -<p>And Leech proceeded to detail Wilkinson's escape and the method of it -in such correct and graphic terms that Wilkinson's eyes bulged wide -with terror.</p> - -<p>"How did you know?" gasped Wilkinson.</p> - -<p>Leech crooked his forefinger.</p> - -<p>"Because," he declared, "there's nothing new under the sun. The thing -you did was done by a bank cashier in California ten years ago, and one -of the few people who knew about it was myself. It's not down in the -books. You thought it was new; I knew...."</p> - -<p>They smoked in silence for a while, Wilkinson all the time staring at -the other. Finally he spoke.</p> - -<p>"Well, the jig is up, so far as you and I are concerned, and the -question now is, what do you want of me?"</p> - -<p>Leech hesitated a moment, before answering:</p> - -<p>"I want a cool million to let you go."</p> - -<p>Wilkinson grunted.</p> - -<p>"When you told me you were the only man who knew, I figured out that -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341">[Pg 341]</a></span> -was your game. But what about these chaps downstairs?"</p> - -<p>"They're not county men," assured Leech, "and they don't know a thing -about it."</p> - -<p>"A million dollars," mused Wilkinson. "Where would I get it?"</p> - -<p>Leech blew smoke rings toward the ceiling.</p> - -<p>"I refuse to discuss that part of it," he answered, "only it's a -million now. Later on it may be two, you know."</p> - -<p>The banker knitted his brows.</p> - -<p>"And what do you do for that million?" he said.</p> - -<p>"Keep my hands off and my mouth shut, that's all."</p> - -<p>"How long a time will you give me to think it over?"</p> - -<p>"How long do you want?"</p> - -<p>"Three days."</p> - -<p>Leech shook his head.</p> - -<p>"It will be three millions by that time; besides, this thing has cost -me money. I've got to keep these chaps on the job, you know."</p> - -<p>Wilkinson rose, and said:</p> - -<p>"Give me until eight o'clock to-morrow morning. You'll find me here."</p> - -<p>Leech thought a moment, and then shaking his finger at the millionaire, -he said:</p> - -<p>"Don't you try to get away, Wilkinson, because...."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_342" id="Page_342">[Pg 342]</a></span></p> - -<p>"That part of it is all right," growled the other. "By the way, -won't you stay and have a schooner of beer? No? Well, eight to-morrow -morning, then."</p> - -<p>Leech left, Wilkinson looking after him wistfully as he went out.</p> - -<p>"Clean-cut proposition, that Leech," he reflected to himself.</p> - -<p>There was a tap on the door. And to Wilkinson's "Come in," Leech -reappeared.</p> - -<p>"I merely wanted to send my regards to Miss Leslie," he said, "in case -you call her up."</p> - -<p>"I won't call anybody up," growled Wilkinson. "My people don't know -anything about me other than that I'm dead."</p> - -<p>Nor did Wilkinson call anybody up. He merely stopped drinking beer, -went downstairs and got a handful of black cigars, and then returning -to his room smoked all through the long night, that is, until two -o'clock in the morning. At that hour he heard a church bell chime and -started for the window. In the moonlight the dingy backyard seemed -peaceful and deserted. He took off his shoes and stole out upon the -fire-escape; and climbing carefully down rung after rung until at -last he stood on <i>terra firma</i>, he then started for a secret alleyway -which, as he had ascertained, had been used in frequent evasions of the -police. But no sooner had he started toward it than a hand was laid -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_343" id="Page_343">[Pg 343]</a></span> -upon his arm; and turning, he found himself face to face with one of -Leech's plain-clothesmen.</p> - -<p>"Taking the air?" queried the man, pleasantly, deepening his hold on -the arm of Wilkinson.</p> - -<p>"No," said Wilkinson, looking about the squalid backyard, "but I saw -somebody moving around down here—must have been you—and mistook him -for a burglar. Thought I'd scare him off."</p> - -<p>"He didn't scare," said the sleuth, drily. "Shall we—er—return?"</p> - -<p>They returned, the detective lounging, wide-eyed and comfortable, upon -the fire-escape above, while Wilkinson drew off his clothes and slept -like a log for the remainder of the night. At eight o'clock in the -morning he was up and dressed; and at eight o'clock Leech appeared. But -no sooner was he in the room than Wilkinson drew on his slouched hat -and seized Leech by the arm, saying:</p> - -<p>"Come on, I'm ready."</p> - -<p>"Where are you going?" cried Leech, in alarm.</p> - -<p>Wilkinson grinned.</p> - -<p>"I'm going to give myself up to Murgatroyd," he said.</p> - -<p>Leech winced. It was a blow between the eyes and he felt it.</p> - -<p>"The devil you are!" he cried. "But why?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344">[Pg 344]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Because," said Wilkinson, slowly, "I know chaps like you. A man who -can be bought for a million, can't be bought for ten million, that's -what I mean."</p> - -<p>"Explain yourself," stammered Leech.</p> - -<p>"When you get the million you'll come back for more. You'll never lose -sight of me—eh?" Wilkinson's grin widened as he saw the telltale flush -upon the cheek of the man before him. "You'd come back for more and -more. That I wouldn't mind, but in the end when I refused you'd call my -bluff—you'd kill the goose that was laying the golden egg. You'd give -me up one year, two years hence—you know you would."</p> - -<p>Leech was silent; he was floored.</p> - -<p>"Besides," went on Wilkinson, calmly, "there would always be the danger -of my discovery by Murgatroyd. The sword of Damocles would forever be -over my head. I'll make an end of it; I'll give myself up...."</p> - -<p>"Just as you say, Wilkinson," returned Leech, feeling all the while -that the other was bluffing. "I'll take you down to Murgatroyd's -myself," he went on, now bluffing, too. "By George, that's just what -I will do! Hereafter it will be said that Wilkinson may have been too -smart for Murgatroyd, but that there was one man he couldn't fool; and -that was Assistant District Attorney Leech. That ought to get me the -chief's job next November. Come on! I've got a taxi-cab—my men will -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_345" id="Page_345">[Pg 345]</a></span> -follow in another."</p> - -<p>Wilkinson climbed into the cab. At the second corner he called out to -the driver: "Turn west!" Leech leaned back smiling at this new turn, -and let Wilkinson do his own ordering.</p> - -<p>"I want to get out here for a minute, Leech," he said, presently -stopping the cab before a white marble building. "Come in with me.... I -want to telephone to someone I know."</p> - -<p>The two men, each occupied with his own thoughts, stalked up the -steps of the Millionaires' Club. At the entrance they were stopped, -and Wilkinson was rudely thrust aside. Leech got a cold and distant -obeisance from the doorman, who nevertheless politely asked:</p> - -<p>"Beg your pardon, sir, did you desire to see any member of the club?"</p> - -<p>Wilkinson came forward and roared out:</p> - -<p>"Confound you, I'm a member of the club—I'm Peter V. Wilkinson!"</p> - -<p>The doorman laughed in his face, and again bowing to Leech, asked if -the other was with him.</p> - -<p>"Why, Bowles," roared Wilkinson, "I know you like a book. I'm Peter V. -Wilkinson, I tell you."</p> - -<p>Bowles started at the voice. He recognised it as Wilkinson's, but the -man before him bore no resemblance to the Wilkinson that he knew, and -he refused to believe him. And in the end, Wilkinson and Leech were -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_346" id="Page_346">[Pg 346]</a></span> -forced, to their discomfiture, to retire.</p> - -<p>"Hang it!" muttered Wilkinson. "He ought to know me if anybody does. He -doesn't know me, and yet you did. How do you account for that?"</p> - -<p>"I was looking for a bigger tip," laughed Leech.</p> - -<p>At the next corner they stopped and Wilkinson entered a public -telephone booth, closed the glass door behind him and then called -up the Barristers' Club. Presently the man he called for was at the -other end, was answering "Hello." Wilkinson smiled, for the voice held -excitement in it.</p> - -<p>"Peter!" yelled Morehead in delight.</p> - -<p>"Yes, and I'm coming to the Barristers'."</p> - -<p>"In broad daylight?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, right now. I want to talk to you and talk to you hard. I've read -all the New York papers and know all that's going on.... And say, look -here, you'd better tell your people there to be on the look-out for a -tramp and a con man, for they'll never let us in unless you do."</p> - -<p>"Who's the con man?" queried the Colonel, not fully recovered from the -shock that Wilkinson had given him.</p> - -<p>Whereupon Wilkinson without reply rang off.</p> - -<p>Fifteen minutes later Colonel Morehead threw open his bedroom door in -the Barristers' Club and threw his arms about his disreputable-looking -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_347" id="Page_347">[Pg 347]</a></span>client.</p> - -<p>"Peter, the sight of you is good for sore eyes!" he cried.</p> - -<p>Colonel Morehead stiffened for an instant at the sight of the other -man, and bowing gravely merely said:</p> - -<p>"How do you do, sir?"</p> - -<p>"Colonel," began Wilkinson, as he threw himself into a chair and -stretched his legs wide apart. "I'll come to the point at once." The -Colonel was all attention. "I note by the papers that you are keeping -the legislature a devil of a long time selecting a new man to replace -Beekman. You will naturally want to know," Wilkinson went on, "why we -call upon you in such haste this morning." He waved his hand toward -Leech. "Allow me to introduce you to Mr. Leech, at present an assistant -district attorney of this county, and the next Governor of the State of -New York."</p> - -<p>Morehead stared at Wilkinson as one hypnotised.</p> - -<p>"Why?" he demanded, at length.</p> - -<p>Wilkinson did not answer at once, but drew him into the adjoining room -where he related, among other things, the happenings of the last two -days. At the conclusion, he remarked:</p> - -<p>"A man who asks for a million-dollar bribe is our man, isn't he, -Morehead? But there is one thing more I want to say: Don't you forget -it that I figured out this thing myself."</p> - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_348" id="Page_348">[Pg 348]</a></span> -<h2><a name="XXII" id="XXII"></a>XXII</h2> -</div> - -<p>Some few weeks after his visit to Colonel Morehead at the Barristers' -Club, Peter V. Wilkinson presented himself at the Riverside Drive -house. He had waited until he had grown a stubbly beard once more -before introducing himself to his family, and then one morning, -feeling very much as he looked, he had come in straggling, half-dazed, -tired, bedraggled, a sad object to behold, but in spite of all he was -received, like the proverbial prodigal, with open arms.</p> - -<p>Then followed days of explanation and secret conferences. His family -physician had diagnosed his case as one of loss of memory; Murgatroyd -had thrown up his hat in glee; the county force at once became active; -the newspapers chattered in cold type like magpies; and what is more, -the final stay obtained by Colonel Morehead was drawing to a close.</p> - -<p>But all the time that Murgatroyd felt that he had at last landed -Wilkinson, Leech kept his own counsel, and secretly he was very happy. -For did he not hold within his grasp the governorship, wealth, and in -his arms, almost, the daughter of Peter V. Wilkinson?</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_349" id="Page_349">[Pg 349]</a></span></p> - -<p>They were sitting in Leslie's room at the top of the house one -morning, Wilkinson and his daughter. The father was puffing away at -a big black cigar, and looking very much out-of-place in the dainty -apartment with its poppy-covered walls and chintz furnishings, the girl -wearing a far more cheerful look than had been on her face for many -moons, was luxuriating in a silken-covered chair.</p> - -<p>"It's coming out all right, isn't it, father? How many nights have I -prayed that you would get away—even if I never saw you again. And now -it's coming out all right." She smiled a sad little smile; presently -she added: "You've got a man that the National Banks can't buy...."</p> - -<p>Her tone was the least bit cautious and reserved—as one who withholds -judgment. This did not escape Wilkinson. But he pressed his point.</p> - -<p>"You're sure you want Leech?" he asked. "I don't want to force you, but -he's a loyal friend of ours. He's run the National conspiracy to earth, -is brave enough to face fire for me—he's a true friend, girlie."</p> - -<p>Leslie's eyes glowed. She caught her father about the neck, and hiding -her face against his shoulder, she whispered:</p> - -<p>"Of course I want him, father. I—I would not have anybody else...."</p> - -<p>"I'm glad of that," answered her father, nodding. "He's head over heels -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_350" id="Page_350">[Pg 350]</a></span> -in love with you, dear—and he seems, somehow, to make it a condition -of——"</p> - -<p>"Father," she interrupted, "I knew long, long ago that he admired me. I -could tell—why, I'm so glad, so glad...."</p> - -<p>Nevertheless the girl was very tired, was keyed up to the highest -pitch. Her father had but three short weeks of respite, Morehead could -do no more, and the legislature was ready to appoint its man in the -place that Morehead with some desperate instinct had held vacant for -so long. It was still a race, a running fight with Leslie, and she -revelled in the fight. It was all a part of a desperate game, with her -father for the stakes; and she played it with all her might and main.</p> - -<p>"You will grant a pardon to my father?" she had implored of Leech, -struggling feebly in his warm embrace.</p> - -<p>"Yes," he had answered, drawing her still closer; and Leslie had -submitted, persuading herself into the belief that this man was the one -man for her.</p> - -<p>"You promise?"</p> - -<p>"I promise."</p> - -<p>Ten days later he resigned his office as Assistant District Attorney of -New York; and two weeks later he was lifted into the high place by the -legislature. One day after he took his oath of office the petition for -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_351" id="Page_351">[Pg 351]</a></span> -the pardon of Peter V. Wilkinson was handed to him; and faithful to -his promise, he signed it on the spot.</p> - -<p>For what did it matter to him or to Wilkinson, either, that there was a -storm of protest—the storm of protest coming chiefly from the office -of Murgatroyd? What did it matter to Leech that his name henceforth -would be upon the black list at the Criminal Courts Building? He had -made good and had won his reward—or almost. At any rate, for one -thing, he was Governor....</p> - -<p>The <i>Morning Mail</i> made but a feeble protest, for the <i>Star</i> and the -<i>Reporter</i> had become bitter and exultant adversaries and gave harder -than they took.</p> - -<p>To Leslie the whole thing was a triumph.</p> - -<p>"And yet it's a funny thing," she thought to herself, "that Eliot -Beekman, who defended father, wouldn't pardon him, and here is Newton -Leech, who persecuted him, now lets him go."</p> - -<p>It was in the Den a few days later that Leslie found upon the leather -lounging seat two fat volumes of the printed case of her father's -trial. She picked them up listlessly and started in to read them. But -she had not gotten very far when voices forced themselves upon her ear. -One was Leech's—he had come down from Albany. For some unaccountable -reason she did not want to see him just at this time. There was a -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_352" id="Page_352">[Pg 352]</a></span> -wedding day to be set—he had pressed her on this subject —and she -was not ready to set it. She slipped temporarily behind the thick -curtains that hung suspended by the wall, just as Leech and her father -stepped into the Den.</p> - -<p>Leech's attitude toward the head of the family, as time went on, had -been growing more and more insolent; and to-day he was worse than ever.</p> - -<p>"Mr. Wilkinson," he said, "I've done my part and I've been well roasted -for it."</p> - -<p>"That's immaterial to me," gurgled Wilkinson, who had become a -different man. The lines had faded from his face, he was rounding out -once more, he slept nights and ate with regularity, within him all was -peace and happiness. The shadow of the prison had slipped from him -like a noose—he was free. He looked at the other tantalisingly for a -moment, and then asked: "Well, what do you want ...?"</p> - -<p>"Just what you promised me," said Governor Leech, "for setting you -free. I want my million dollars, to begin with."</p> - -<p>"Come now," grumbled Wilkinson, lighting a cigar, "you've got the -governorship—that's enough for any man, my boy."</p> - -<p>"It's not enough for me," insisted Leech, alarmed. "I want two things -right away—two things you promised me: A million dollars and your -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_353" id="Page_353">[Pg 353]</a></span> -daughter Leslie; and the sooner she can marry me, the better."</p> - -<p>Wilkinson laughed until he was red in the face, then he said:</p> - -<p>"Look here, Leech, I'll compromise with you. You take half a -million...."</p> - -<p>"Not in a hundred years!" exclaimed Leech, threateningly.</p> - -<p>Wilkinson continued to chuckle.</p> - -<p>" ... a half million," he repeated, "and I'll let the old lady, my -wife, get a divorce, and you can have her. But Leslie...."</p> - -<p>Leech gripped the table with both hands.</p> - -<p>"Wilkinson," he said firmly, "the girl will marry me, never fear! -She likes me, loves me, and she's promised to be my wife. But you've -promised to cough up a million to me, and I want it."</p> - -<p>"What if I don't?" growled the other.</p> - -<p>"If you don't," cried Leech, "I'll let the whole world know that you've -got a hundred million or so salted away in your daughter Leslie's name, -and then you'll have a hornet's nest about your head."</p> - -<p>"Never thought of that," returned Wilkinson, paling slightly. "By -the way," he mused, "after Leslie marries you I'll have to find some -other dummy to hold those stocks and bonds for me, otherwise, you'll -get your hooks on them." He laughed. "Cleverest scheme in the world, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_354" id="Page_354">[Pg 354]</a></span> -boy—Flomerfelt and I concocted it. Why, look here, I've been joking, -nothing else. I'm not going to give you a million."</p> - -<p>"You're not!" cried Leech, growing white.</p> - -<p>"No!" roared Wilkinson. "Hang it all, I'm going to give you two...."</p> - -<p>"That's better," assented Leech, sinking back into his seat. "But when?"</p> - -<p>"Leslie's got to sign."</p> - -<p>"Can you close this to-day?"</p> - -<p>"As soon as I can get her. Come on—she's probably upstairs."</p> - -<p>Wilkinson and Leech left the room, and Leslie, her face flushed with -the knowledge of what she had heard, crept from the room and through -the hall back to the postern stair. There, in an empty room she -crouched down until she heard them coming down again, then made a dash -for her boudoir and locked herself in. After a while a servant rapped -on her door and informed her that he had been looking all over for her.</p> - -<p>"Who wants me?" she inquired.</p> - -<p>"Your father, Miss, and Mr. Leech," he told her.</p> - -<p>"Tell my father to come up," said Leslie.</p> - -<p>Presently her father, with a document in his hand, entered the room, -and smilingly announced:</p> - -<p>"Just wanted you to sign this, girlie."</p> - -<p>Leslie glanced at it cursorily, saw that it was what she believed it to -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_355" id="Page_355">[Pg 355]</a></span> -be—a means of payment to Leech, and signing, passed it over without -looking at her father. He stood for an instant at the door.</p> - -<p>"Newton has come up to see you," he said. "The Governor is getting kind -of lonely up in Albany—he can hardly wait to get a Mrs. Governor up -there."</p> - -<p>Leslie drew her hand across her face.</p> - -<p>"Please tell Mr. Leech," she answered, "that I'm ill. I can't possibly -see him to-day—no," she persisted, "don't ask me—not to-day." She -pushed her father playfully from the room and once more locked the -door. Then she went back to the window and read the printed case of -the People <i>versus</i> Peter V. Wilkinson until the shadows deepened into -darkness.</p> - -<p>"It's all so clear now," she sighed. "How could they have acquitted -him? How could Eliot Beekman have pardoned him, even if he had wanted -to? Oh, he's guilty, guilty, guilty!"</p> - -<p>Completely exhausted, Leslie laid down the volume and threw herself -upon the bed, where she lay until the early morning sunlight peered in -through the windows. Throughout the long night she had not closed her -eyes, but lay there thinking, planning, some way out of it all. The -morning found her resolved upon one point: She would never marry the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_356" id="Page_356">[Pg 356]</a></span> -man her father wanted her to marry.</p> - -<p>And so it happened that some weeks later Governor Leech, looking -down upon her, his face suddenly gone pale, his breath coming short, -protested:</p> - -<p>"But, Leslie, you can't mean it. Don't you know that I've held you in -my arms, that my kisses are on your lips! Those made you mine. You've -promised, your eyes have answered mine, you belong to me just as much -as though—by heaven! if you don't belong to me for any other reason, -you belong to me because I've earned you! Look what I did for your -father—what I did for you!"</p> - -<p>"You've been paid enough," she answered stubbornly. "I've paid you out -of the money in my hands. Oh, don't stare! I know—I know...." She -paused a moment, her face flushing, her breath coming fast. "Governor -Leech," she resumed, "while my father was in danger I could think of -nothing but to save him; but now that strain, that terrific strain is -over, and I have come to my senses. I can't even think of you, much -less marry you with this taint on you. Yes, I broke my promise to you, -it is true, but I had to, don't you see?" She lifted her head proudly, -and then added: "I had to for the reason that I am just beginning to -find out that I'm a woman, and that you, Governor—you are not—a man."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_357" id="Page_357">[Pg 357]</a></span></p> - -<p>The following evening while Leslie waited in a small waiting-room near -the entrance to the house a man was ushered in—a man with grey hair -and bowed shoulders, a man enveloped in a long cloak—for the mist -was heavy and the night was wet without. Leaping to her feet, Leslie -grasped him by the hand, and said:</p> - -<p>"It was good of you to come, Mr. Ilingsworth, and you've found him, I -can see by your eyes. Oh, how can I thank you enough! I was to help -you, and here you're helping me."</p> - -<p>"I'm helping him," said Giles Ilingsworth, steadily, but kindly. He -straightened up, and went on: "I haven't seen him, but I've located -him—I know the floor he lives on. He—he's always in evenings. They -say he has a job with some labourers on the new subway."</p> - -<p>"Come!" she cried, seizing his arm.</p> - -<p>"Wait," he said, "why don't you send for him?"</p> - -<p>Leslie shook her head.</p> - -<p>"He would never come. I've got to go to him to-night. I can't wait -another minute—not another minute."</p> - -<p>In the open doorway while she drew her cloak tight about her, they -stood and peered out into the Drive.</p> - -<p>"We'll get a cab," she said, taking his arm; but Ilingsworth was -adamant.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_358" id="Page_358">[Pg 358]</a></span></p> - -<p>"There's one thing that I forgot to tell you," he went on, -hesitatingly. "I—it's only what they tell me down there—they say -Beekman does not live alone. I thought you ought to know...."</p> - -<p>Leslie flushed for an instant and drew back, and then pressed on again.</p> - -<p>"I know," she said, "that is, I suppose—but never mind that. I've -wronged this man and I won't let another day pass over my head without -trying to right the wrong—if it ever can be righted." She tightened -her grasp on the man's arm. "How can a wrong like that ever be -righted?" she asked.</p> - -<p>But Ilingsworth himself knew something about wrongs, and muttered -half-aloud as he glanced at the darkened heavens:</p> - -<p>"Are my wrongs ever to be righted?"</p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_359" id="Page_359">[Pg 359]</a></span> -<h2><a name="XXIII" id="XXIII"></a>XXIII</h2> -</div> - -<p>Before one of a long row of dilapidated tenement houses away over on -the East Side of the city, the cabman halted. Leslie had ordered him -to drive like the wind, promising double fare; and consequently he had -covered the ground in a ridiculously short period of time.</p> - -<p>To the girl, familiar only with the better localities of the city, -the squalor of the place was appalling. It all looked so dark and -mysterious that she hesitated for a time before consenting to go in; -but at last, overcoming her repugnance, she brought herself to the -point where she could make the ascent of the narrow stairway which led -to Beekman's room, and she began to climb the stairs, clutching at -Ilingsworth as they went.</p> - -<p>"They said he was always at home," repeated Ilingsworth, knocking -gently at the door.</p> - -<p>A moment more and the door was suddenly thrust open, flooding the hall -with light, and a woman, wearing a hat and a long coat, stood in the -doorway. It was Madeline Braine.</p> - -<p>For a second that lapsed into another, the women stood staring at each -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_360" id="Page_360">[Pg 360]</a></span> -other, but did not speak.</p> - -<p>"I was just going home," finally announced Miss Braine. "I——"</p> - -<p>"It isn't true, then, you don't live here?" faltered Ilingsworth, -blurting out things in his excitement that should have been left unsaid.</p> - -<p>"Were you looking for me?" asked the woman. "I live at...."</p> - -<p>"For Mr. Beekman," interrupted Leslie, in a low voice. "Can we find him -here?"</p> - -<p>Madeline Braine pressed her hand against her lips.</p> - -<p>"He's asleep," she whispered. "They're both asleep."</p> - -<p>"Both!" The exclamation fell from Leslie's lips.</p> - -<p>"Who else is there here?" proceeded Ilingsworth, without formality.</p> - -<p>"Nellie, the girl that lives here," she told him in lowered tones. "He -takes care of her. She's been sick—he's had to stay up nights and work -all day, and it's a pity to wake him up...."</p> - -<p>"He hasn't retired yet, then?" asked Leslie, inanely, for want of -something better to say.</p> - -<p>But whatever would have been the woman's reply it did not reach her -lips, for just at that moment there was a stir, an exclamation from the -corner of the room, and a man rising to his full height—a man, tall, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_361" id="Page_361">[Pg 361]</a></span> -strong, bronzed, clad in workman's clothes, cried out sharply:</p> - -<p>"Who's voice was that? I thought I heard a voice...."</p> - -<p>The woman waved the two out in the hall, and answered:</p> - -<p>"No, she hasn't stirred."</p> - -<p>Beekman stretched his arms, and replied, lowering his voice:</p> - -<p>"I don't mean Nell. I mean her voice—Leslie's. Who's out there, Miss -Braine?"</p> - -<p>Madeline motioned to Ilingsworth and Leslie to come in, but at the very -moment they entered a young voice rose from the next room, and cried in -all its weakness:</p> - -<p>"Madeline! Eliot! Oh, Eliot...."</p> - -<p>"We've awakened her," said Madeline Braine, contritely, hurrying toward -the inner door. But Giles Ilingsworth interrupted her flight and caught -her as in a grip of iron.</p> - -<p>"Just wait a moment, if you please," he said.</p> - -<p>Again the voice raised itself in supplication.</p> - -<p>"Madeline! Eliot...."</p> - -<p>"You recognised a voice," said Ilingsworth to Beekman, "but I recognise -a voice, too." He caught up the lamp and started for the next room, but -Beekman was before him standing at the threshold.</p> - -<p>"That's a bedroom," he explained.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_362" id="Page_362">[Pg 362]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Let go of me, Beekman!" cried the old man. "I know what I'm about!" -And with a steady step he marched on into the next room.</p> - -<p>All of a sudden a loud cry, a woman's cry of sudden joy, reached their -ears. Madeline hastened in. The next instant, while Leslie and Beekman -stood facing one another, they heard a muffled groan and Ilingsworth -came out again. Holding up the light to Beekman's eyes, he looked into -them sternly.</p> - -<p>"My daughter," he said, "she's a living wreck, almost."</p> - -<p>"You should have seen her when she first came here, Mr. Ilingsworth," -answered Beekman, returning the other's gaze with interest.</p> - -<p>"You saved my life, Beekman," went on Giles Ilingsworth, his voice -trembling; "but for how much of this are you responsible?"</p> - -<p>Madeline Braine pressed to his side and said:</p> - -<p>"Let me answer that. Governor Beekman did more than save your life, he -saved hers—saved her from drowning, nursed her, fed her, lodged her, -he has brought her back to life—back to you."</p> - -<p>But Giles Ilingsworth was not satisfied.</p> - -<p>"Let him answer," he persisted.</p> - -<p>"There is nothing more to tell. Upon my honour, there is not," spoke up -Beekman.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_363" id="Page_363">[Pg 363]</a></span></p> - -<p>In sudden relief, then, Giles Ilingsworth started for the room; and -Leslie, pressing close to him, asked if she might see the girl.</p> - -<p>"She needed someone to take care of her, and she found Eliot," she -sighed a moment later as she stood in the shadow and saw Elinor lying -propped up against white pillows, her eyes very large and lustrous, a -faint smile on her lips. And then she softly left the room.</p> - -<p>Within, Ilingsworth sat on the edge of the bed and babbled like a -child, happiness suffusing his countenance; a little while longer and -his voice became firm once more, had the ring of conviction in it, -weakness had dropped from him as a mantle.</p> - -<p>"I'm happy, oh, so happy, Elinor!" he cried.</p> - -<p>There were no questions on his lips for her to answer; she knew there -never would be. Nothing mattered to her nor to him now save that they -were together and were happy in each other's love.</p> - -<p>Madeline knelt suddenly on the other side of the couch.</p> - -<p>"Mr. Ilingsworth," she whispered in a choking voice, "there's something -that I've got to tell you, something that's been driving me almost mad, -for a long time." Her face grew white and her eyes widened as she met -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_364" id="Page_364">[Pg 364]</a></span> -the old man's gaze. "It was I," she confessed, "I shot Mr. Pallister."</p> - -<p>In a bound Ilingsworth was on his feet, his eyes fixed upon hers.</p> - -<p>"You!" he exclaimed. "You ...!"</p> - -<p>"Don't—don't let them hear!" she moaned, hiding her face in her hands. -"I'm weak—I've always been weak, and if it hadn't been for me none of -this would have happened."</p> - -<p>"It was Wilkinson," cried Ilingsworth, clenching his hands, "Wilkinson -is at the bottom of it all!"</p> - -<p>The woman grasped at his sympathetic tone.</p> - -<p>"Yes, yes," she answered; and turning to Elinor: "I was like you, -dear—I had nobody to take care of me."</p> - -<p>"But," he protested, "it was my gun...."</p> - -<p>"Yes. That day when you talked to his daughter I was there—behind the -hangings. You laid the gun behind you on a table, dropped it there -behind a book."</p> - -<p>Ilingsworth placed his hand against his forehead and thought a moment.</p> - -<p>"So I did. It all comes back to me now," he returned. "I forgot -even that at my trial. I have never been able to account for its -disappearance."</p> - -<p>"I picked it up and kept it here," said the woman, placing her hand -upon her bosom. "Some instinct made me do it. I was going to break -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_365" id="Page_365">[Pg 365]</a></span> -with Wilkinson—I had made up my mind never to see him again, and I -didn't know but that I would need it to threaten him, so I kept it." -Her eyes grew dark with anger. "Afterwards he treated me cruelly, told -something, well, something that has ruined my life. I was in the crowd -that day, and,—well, you know the rest. Don't—don't tell anybody," -she pleaded. "They'd kill me, kill me before I had a chance to redeem -myself. I don't want to die—I can't die. I did my best for you, Mr. -Ilingsworth,—after I had done my worst," she ended in a sob.</p> - -<p>Ilingsworth crossed to her side and looked down upon her kindly.</p> - -<p>"My dear child, it was you that saved me. We all know what would have -happened if the Governor had never seen you. I don't want to tell -anybody, and I'm sure Elinor doesn't, either; nor am I sure that I am -under obligations to tell anybody. I bought the gun to kill; you killed -in a fit of anger. We're in precisely the same position, aren't we? We -had murder in our souls and this man Wilkinson put it there."</p> - -<p>"I want you to know," she went on falteringly, "that all the lies I've -told, all the things I've done, all the weakness that's in me; he's -responsible for them all. There was never anybody in my life but Peter -Wilkinson."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_366" id="Page_366">[Pg 366]</a></span></p> - -<p>There was a long silence. Giles Ilingsworth was the first to break it.</p> - -<p>"Miss Braine, I've been trying to figure out some way so that we can -all take care of each other. We all seem to need looking after. Perhaps -my courage and strength will come back now that my own little girl has -been returned to me. I've got to make a home for her, you see—there'll -be a place there for you, too, always, if you'll come."</p> - -<p>Madeline had not expected so much kindness, and the tears began to roll -down her cheeks.</p> - -<p>"May we come in?" asked a voice at the door.</p> - -<p>And Leslie Wilkinson, a new light in her face—a light that was worth -while, for she had solved a weighty problem in the last half-hour—once -more entered, Beekman following close at her heels.</p> - -<p>"There are some things I wish to say to ex-Governor Beekman in the -presence of you all—some things that you don't know, though I've heard -some of you charge my father with them," she went on, her face paling. -"I learned the truth myself less than a month ago, Eliot," now turning -to him, "that somewhere and somehow there are standing in my name -securities amounting to a hundred million dollars. I know it's so—I -can testify to it—they don't belong to me."</p> - -<p>"They belong to Wilkinson," broke in Ilingsworth. "I've known it all -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_367" id="Page_367">[Pg 367]</a></span> -along, but I've never been able to prove it."</p> - -<p>"They don't belong to my father," went on Leslie, her eyes meeting -Beekman's in triumph, "but to the depositors in my father's trust -companies."</p> - -<p>Beekman looked at the girl in amazement, Ilingsworth muttered something -to himself and was about to speak, but Leslie interrupted him.</p> - -<p>"One word more, Mr. Ilingsworth, if you please," she said. And again -turning to Beekman, she went on: "Eliot, you know that I have money -in my own right—money to do with as I wish. Therefore, I retain you -now, not on my own behalf, but on behalf of half a million depositors -in three States, to start a fight to get that money back. We'll begin -right now," she concluded, her voice ringing with determination, "with -Giles Ilingsworth. You are retained by him...."</p> - -<p>The fire leaped into Beekman's eyes; he sniffed with excitement.</p> - -<p>"Half a million depositors!" he cried, hope growing in his voice. "That -means half a million clients. I'm still a counsellor-at-law—the good -old Appellate Division withstood all attempts to disbar me. Half a -million clients—yes, I accept."</p> - -<p>"What about the evidence?" queried Ilingsworth.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_368" id="Page_368">[Pg 368]</a></span></p> - -<p>Beekman held up his hand.</p> - -<p>"The Bank Le Boeuf of Buffalo—they charged these things. They must -have evidence...."</p> - -<p>"I can furnish some," said Ilingsworth.</p> - -<p>"I have overheard Peter Wilkinson," faltered Madeline Braine.</p> - -<p>"And so have I," cried Leslie; "and besides, everything is in my -name, and I won't sign another paper or pay out another dollar until -everybody has had his rights."</p> - -<p>Leaving Ilingsworth with his two charges joyfully planning their -future, Eliot and Leslie returned to the next room.</p> - -<p>"We've got a long fight ahead, Leslie—a running fight, as Colonel -Morehead calls it, but I'm ready. Come, we begin to-night—we cannot -start too soon."</p> - -<p>"You remind me of that night," Leslie whispered, "that night when -you brought the ring." He seemed scarcely to hear her, the room was -reeling about him. But the girl, knowing that she must do the wooing -if she were to win him back at all, went over to him, and, laying an -affectionate hand upon his shoulder as she looked up into his eyes, she -said very tenderly now:</p> - -<p>"Eliot, if we're going to fight, don't you think we'll fight better -if we fight together? I wouldn't dare to ask you this if I didn't see -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_369" id="Page_369">[Pg 369]</a></span> -the hunger in your eyes for me just as the hunger is in my heart for -you. And Eliot," she went on, nestling closer all the while, "won't you -marry me to-night—won't you say you will?"</p> - -<p>This sudden rush of happiness was too much for Beekman, and he could -hardly speak. For answer he drew his arm round her waist and pressed -her close to him, their lips meeting in one long kiss, as they had that -night so long ago, when she had promised herself to him.</p> - -<p>A little while later, Beekman drew his shabby coat about him, but -Leslie saw nothing but the man underneath it. His shoulders that had -been drooping under the burden of adversity, when she entered the room, -now squared themselves; his mouth was firm, and his eyes sparkled as -side by side they passed out into the darkness.</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p>"What do you want of me?" Wilkinson was saying as he glanced first at -Flomerfelt and then at his wife. They had bearded him in his Den a -little while before, broken in upon his reverie, and instinctively he -felt that their presence there augured no good to him.</p> - -<p>It was Flomerfelt who answered:</p> - -<p>"Thirds, Wilkinson. One-third for me and one for Mrs. Wilkinson."</p> - -<p>"By what right do you demand it?" asked Peter V., lolling back in his -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_370" id="Page_370">[Pg 370]</a></span> -chair. "And you?" he added, looking at his wife.</p> - -<p> -"I'll tell everything——" began Mrs. Peter V. But Flomerfelt -interposed with:</p> - -<p>"She's your wife, Wilkinson." And lowering his voice, he continued: -"Your property is personalty, stocks and bonds. In case of your death -she would be entitled to a third. She merely asks her right."</p> - -<p>"In case of my death," mused Wilkinson. "But I'm not going to die—not -yet," he added, a moment later.</p> - -<p>Flomerfelt's brows contracted, his eyes narrowed, he looked Wilkinson -full in the face.</p> - -<p>"How do you know you're not?" he asked.</p> - -<p>"Is that a threat?" asked Wilkinson, rising.</p> -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 428px;"> -<img src="images/370.jpg" width="428" height="650" alt="" /> -<div class="caption">"We've got a long fight ahead, Leslie—a running fight, -as Colonel Morehead calls it, but I'm ready"</div> -</div> - -<p>Flomerfelt, who hoped in the long run to wind up in Paris with -two-thirds of Peter's hidden fortune, for he expected that Mrs. Peter -V., with her third, in time would join him there, was glad to note that -at his suggestion of death the woman had regarded him once more with -fear. She had believed him responsible for the death of Roy Pallister, -and he had fostered this belief, had held her within the circle of -conspiracy, had held her as one chargeable, too, with death of the boy. -It was a safe venture, for not once had he by word of mouth connected -himself with that tragedy. Indeed, he had not the slightest idea as to -who was responsible for it, but all through he felt that Mrs. Peter -V., believing him responsible, felt -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_371" id="Page_371">[Pg 371]</a></span> -herself mixed up, felt, too, perhaps, that they had gone too far. And, -watching her out of the tail of his eye, he held his glance impudently -upon Wilkinson's face.</p> - -<p>"Not a threat, but a surmise," he answered in the same even tone. -"People have sought your life before, you know," he went on, his face -breaking out into a disagreeable smile, "and even you have attempted -suicide. If you should die, what would become of her?"</p> - -<p>"When I die will be time enough to talk about it," snarled Wilkinson. -And thrusting his face now into that of the other, he demanded: "Come, -what's the game? Lay your cards down on the table—out into the open. -Why do you want a third ...?"</p> - -<p>"Chiefly because I've earned it."</p> - -<p>"Earned it! I took you out of the gutter, you ingrate!"</p> - -<p>Flomerfelt shrugged his shoulders.</p> - -<p>"If I haven't earned it so far, then I shall earn it in the future," he -said.</p> - -<p>"How?"</p> - -<p>"By keeping silent in the presence of one person."</p> - -<p>"Who?"</p> - -<p>Flomerfelt smiled, but did not answer.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_372" id="Page_372">[Pg 372]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Leslie Wilkinson, of course," put in Mrs. Peter V.</p> - -<p>"I don't understand," muttered Wilkinson, once more puffing on his -cigar. "Why silent in her presence? What's that to me?"</p> - -<p>"It isn't necessary to go over the facts," returned Flomerfelt. "To be -brief, you've got a mint of money in her hands, which she knows nothing -about. You know where it is, the missus knows, and I know. Some chaps -in Vienna know, thirds for us, or tell her ...?"</p> - -<p>Peter laughed aloud.</p> - -<p>"Tell her if you want to," he roared. "But do you suppose she'd give -the game away? She! Why, she's the only trump I ever had about me! -She'll stick through thick and thin! Tell her and be hanged!"</p> - -<p>Flomerfelt held up his hands, saying:</p> - -<p>"I must say that you don't know your own daughter."</p> - -<p>"You're a fool, Peter!" said his wife, sharply.</p> - -<p>"The instant the girl knows, it's all up with you, my friend," went -on Flomerfelt. "But she needs managing, watching. It takes more than -you to manage, to watch her, too. What is it—thirds for us, or tell -her...."</p> - -<p>Peter turned his back upon them.</p> - -<p>"Tell her and be hanged!" he said.</p> - -<p>Flomerfelt's eyes sought those of the lady. "What's the next move?" -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_373" id="Page_373">[Pg 373]</a></span> -hers seemed to ask of him. A smile of cunning crossed his face.</p> - -<p>"Then, Peter, we'll tell the public," he ventured.</p> - -<p>Peter swung about, crying:</p> - -<p>"Ah, why didn't you get down to that in the first place! I can -understand that—I've understood it all along—you were bound to hold -me up. I'm used to that—have had it all my life. Now, look here, -Flomerfelt, I'm through with you—through with both of you. But I'm -willing to be fair. I bought Leech with a million dollars, as you know. -And I'll do the same with you—with her. You can take it or leave it, -just as you please."</p> - -<p>"It's not enough," spoke up Flomerfelt.</p> - -<p>"I should think not," said the lady.</p> - -<p>Peter V. took out his watch and said:</p> - -<p>"I'll give you just one minute to accept."</p> - -<p>Flomerfelt took out his watch, and answered:</p> - -<p>"I'll give you two minutes to divide with us."</p> - -<p>At the end of a minute they were glaring into each other's faces like -beasts of prey. Wilkinson held up his hand and repeated:</p> - -<p>"You can take it or leave it, just as you please."</p> - -<p>"Thirds or nothing," answered the other stubbornly, at which reply -Wilkinson thrust his watch into his pocket and strolled toward the -door, where he waited until Flomerfelt raised his hand; and in that -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_374" id="Page_374">[Pg 374]</a></span> -brief moment it was borne in upon him that he was not the Wilkinson of -old, that he had, somehow, lost his grip.</p> - -<p>"You decline?" asked Flomerfelt. "All right! Then to-morrow the whole -story goes to Leslie Wilkinson."</p> - -<p>"What whole story, Mr. Flomerfelt?" asked a young woman, now entering -the room, and so pleasantly that for a moment Flomerfelt fell back -aghast.</p> - -<p>"What story, Mr. Flomerfelt?" she repeated. But again he did not -answer. And her father, taking his courage in both hands, came forward -and said:</p> - -<p>"The time has come, girlie, when you've got to make a choice for -life—you've got to tell me where you stand—on my side or theirs."</p> - -<p>Leslie slowly retreated to the door; a man entered and stood beside her.</p> - -<p>"I've made my choice, father. This is Eliot Beekman, my husband," she -announced bravely, a smile on her lips.</p> - -<p>Wilkinson could not believe his ears. For a moment he did not speak, -but looked helplessly from one to the other; and Leslie, waiting -for the words that did not come, saw her step-mother grow pale, saw -Flomerfelt's fingers stealthily grope into the depths of his sleeves, -draw down his cuffs, and heave a sigh as he watched the latter settle -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_375" id="Page_375">[Pg 375]</a></span>into place.</p> - -<p>"Yes, father, I've made my choice," she repeated, placing her hand in -Beekman's.</p> - -<p>It was indeed an odd-looking pair that Wilkinson looked upon: the -girl all smiles and gladness, happy in the love that she had at last -won; the man, a scarecrow, almost, his ragged coat revealing a ragged -flannel shirt and clothes worn thread-bare. He frowned. For an instant -he seemed vengeance personified.</p> - -<p>"You——" faltered her father.</p> - -<p>"Mr. Wilkinson," cried Beekman, advancing to that individual, "I've -come back to strip you naked as the day you were born, and I'm going to -do it, too."</p> - -<p>"You'll have a good time doing it," Wilkinson answered with bravado, -although a growing fear was upon him.</p> - -<p>"I expect to, I assure you," returned the other, "for I represent -the depositors in your rotten banks. Once they sought your life, Mr. -Wilkinson,"—for even he didn't know the truth,—"and now they're after -money—the money that belongs to them and not to you. I've started in -to get it, I've come to get possession of it, to find out where it is."</p> - -<p>"You'll have a good time doing it," was all that Peter V. could find, -apparently, to say.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_376" id="Page_376">[Pg 376]</a></span></p> - -<p>"All I want to know is the name of the safe deposit vault where you -keep your securities. I'll be content with that, Mr. Wilkinson."</p> - -<p>"What securities?" Wilkinson paled.</p> - -<p>"All of them—everything," answered Beekman.</p> - -<p>Wilkinson started, glared at Leslie, then he sank into a chair, for he -saw that she knew and had judged him, condemned him.</p> - -<p>"You see, what you got for your pains," Wilkinson said presently to -Flomerfelt, sneeringly.</p> - -<p>Flomerfelt nodded; but as the two men stared at each other, they -registered a silent pact; Flomerfelt agreed with Wilkinson, and -Wilkinson agreed with Flomerfelt, that there should be a truce.</p> - -<p>This Beekman was a common enemy, and there must be no disclosures now: -to give the game away would be to rob them both of everything.</p> - -<p>"You may as well answer, Mr. Wilkinson," continued Beekman, "for I'm -determined on cleaning you up from top to toe. I'm your enemy and I -shall make it my business to represent every other enemy you have. I've -begun with Ilingsworth. I'm going to clear his name, put him where he -belongs; I'm going to clear up mysteries and let daylight into the -hidden places,—every mystery from the giving of your million-dollar -bail bond to the secret of your pardon. Nothing shall escape me, I'll -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_377" id="Page_377">[Pg 377]</a></span> -even ferret out the mystery of the death of Pallister, for," and his -finger pointed straight toward Wilkinson, "for all I know you're at the -bottom of that thing yourself."</p> - -<p>"Fidelity Deposit vaults," came gasping from the throat of Mrs. -Peter V. from the other side of the room; and holding out her hands -pleadingly toward Beekman, she added:</p> - -<p>"I had nothing, nothing whatever, to do with the murder of Roy. I am -innocent, I can prove my innocence. I'll tell all I know. The Fidelity -Deposit vaults—that's where...." She sank cowering into a chair.</p> - -<p>Flomerfelt realised now that he had made an egregious blunder in his -method of the past: this wholesome fear that he had instilled in her -had been his own undoing, a boomerang. But he was not yet through; he -saw another loophole open for him.</p> - -<p>"Peter," he cried, "come to my terms and I'll help you to fight. If you -don't——"</p> - -<p>Beekman stood by with folded arms. He had come there in a sort of -frenzy, to give vent to his pent-up sense of injury. He had regretted -his coming, it is true, the instant he stepped inside of the room. Yet -it was this same frenzy, this determined air of his, this sweeping into -the open and offering fight, they had really done the trick, struck -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_378" id="Page_378">[Pg 378]</a></span> -terror to the hearts of all three.</p> - -<p>And now he actually smiled. Flomerfelt's game suddenly became clear, -and Beekman knew that they were playing right into his hands. So he -waited in silence.</p> - -<p>"Wilkinson," cried Flomerfelt, with quick, incisive tones, like dagger -thrusts they were, "which shall it be?"</p> - -<p>"Neither!" exclaimed Wilkinson, his clenched hand crashing down -upon the table, and then going over to his son-in-law, he laid his -chubby hand upon his shoulder and said: "Eliot, my boy, you've got me -beat—but I'm going to surrender, and—" he leered at Flomerfelt and -Mrs. Peter V.; then added: "and not be given up."</p> - -<p>A moment later Flomerfelt started softly for the door, followed by Mrs. -Peter V. But Beekman barred the way.</p> - -<p>"Hold on there!" he cried. "Peter V. Wilkinson possibly is immune from -further criminal prosecution, but I don't know about you two. But -whatever part you've had in the conspiracy you may be sure that I'll -find out. There's no escape for you."</p> - -<p> </p> -<p> </p> -<hr /> -<p> </p> -<p> </p> - -<div class="transnote"> -<p class="center"><b>Transcriber's Note</b></p> - -<p>Obvious typographical and punctuation errors have been corrected.</p> - -<p>Blank pages opposite illustrations have been removed.</p> -</div> - -<p> </p> -<hr class="pgx" /> -<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE RUNNING FIGHT***</p> -<p>******* This file should be named 61840-h.htm or 61840-h.zip *******</p> -<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> -<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/6/1/8/4/61840">http://www.gutenberg.org/6/1/8/4/61840</a></p> -<p> -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed.</p> - -<p>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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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 Running Fight - - -Author: William Hamilton Osborne - - - -Release Date: April 15, 2020 [eBook #61840] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) - - -***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE RUNNING FIGHT*** - - -E-text prepared by Val Wooff and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team -(http://www.pgdp.net) from page images generously made available by -Internet Archive (https://archive.org) - - - -Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this - file which includes the original illustrations. - See 61840-h.htm or 61840-h.zip: - (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/61840/61840-h/61840-h.htm) - or - (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/61840/61840-h.zip) - - - Images of the original pages are available through - Internet Archive. See - https://archive.org/details/runningfight00osboiala - - -Transcriber's note: - - Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_). - - - - - -[Illustration: "Just a stroke of the pen, dear, and my father will be -free" (page 279)] - - -THE RUNNING FIGHT - -by - -WILLIAM HAMILTON OSBORNE - -Author of "The Red Mouse" - -With Illustrations by Harrison Fisher and George Brehm - - -[Illustration] - - - - - - -New York -Dodd, Mead and Company -1910 - -Copyright, 1910, by -William Hamilton Osborne - -Published April, 1910 - - - - -_TO_ -W. H. O., Jr. _and_ F. S. O. - - - - -ILLUSTRATIONS - - -"Just a stroke of the pen, dear, and my -father will be free" (page 279) _Frontispiece_ - - -It was a mere wisp of a girl who confronted him, 14 - -If only he had dared ... he would have drawn -the dainty head of Leslie Wilkinson down on -his shoulder and would have kissed her then -and there, 76 - -"We've got a long fight ahead, Leslie--a running -fight, as Colonel Morehead calls it, but I'm -ready", 370 - - - - -I - - -Once, twice, thrice,--failing miserably in his attempt to appear -unconcerned,--Ilingsworth paced back and forth in front of Peter V. -Wilkinson's big house in Riverside Drive. There it stood: a massive, -forbidding, modern pile of limestone, wholly unlike anything in its -vicinity. And yet, now that the time had come, Ilingsworth's face wore -a confused, half-fearful look, a sense of uncertainty possessed him, -which was all the more maddening because so far, at least, there had -been no obstacles or delays in this brief, turbulent journey of his; on -the contrary, all had gone well with him, and like a falcon in pursuit -of its prey he had sped on the straightest of straight lines towards a -person of the name of Leslie Wilkinson, and this person, so Ilingsworth -assured himself, would soon feel his claws. - -From a distance, it is true, Wilkinson's imposing structure had -differed little from that which his imagination had led him to expect. -It was like the pictures he had seen of it many times in the papers; -so like, in fact, that even now in his extremity he could feel the -strange, exultant pride he had experienced but a few short months ago -when exhibiting to Elinor a counterfeit presentment of it in a monthly -magazine. And, certainly, he had every right to be proud, at least, so -he thought then,--for was not he, Elinor's father, Giles Ilingsworth of -Morristown, a close business associate of Peter V. Wilkinson, the great -financier? His business associate! Ugh! The very thought of it now made -him shiver, tortured him. Indeed, to such an extent that, on nearing -the place, his vengeful purpose was kindled anew, and his right hand -took a fresh grip on an object of sinister shape hidden in his pocket. -At that moment Ilingsworth had but one idea: to get it over with as -soon as possible. - -But once actually in front of the Wilkinson mansion, when his eyes -sweeping upward had failed to catch the point of view of the press -photographers, a feeling akin to panic had come over him; and he had -passed and repassed, unable to force himself to the point of making -an inquiry of a passerby. And yet, what could he do to make certain? -And then, as if in answer to his half-smothered cries of "Is this -Wilkinson's? There must be no mistake ..." there fell on his ears the -raucous squeal of a megaphone, and, turning whence came the sound, -he beheld a crowded tourists' sight-seeing car rolling slowly and -laboriously along the Drive, its interlocutor busily engaged in the -practice of his genteel profession. - -"We now perceive the palatial residence of Peter V. Wilkinson, the -multi-millionaire--the ten-million-dollar steal trust--so-called from -the habit of its owner in stealing trust companies." - -This exceptionally brilliant play upon words was instantly rewarded by -a titter from some of the occupants of the car, and the perpetrator, -encouraged, proceeded: - -"This house contains no less than eighty-four rooms; has twenty-four -bathrooms, not to speak of the Turkish bath; has paintings worth a -million or two; the rugs cost half a million, at least; and nearly a -million pounds of bronze has been used in its construction. Wilkinson's -second wife--Maggie Lane, when he married her, now Mrs. Margaret Lane -Wilkinson,--is said to be the handsomest woman in the block." He paused -to heighten the effect of what was to follow; then trumpeted: "That -is, on this end of the block. Peter V. Wilkinson owns seventeen trust -companies in the City of New York. He is president of the famous, and -now notorious, Interstate Trust Company which closed its doors last -week. Also president of the Tri-State Trust--the largest trust company -in the world, now toppling on the brink of the precipice...." - -So the voice droned on, the car laboured on, and the passengers, -already sufficiently gorged with Wilkinson's affairs, would have been -spared any further enlightenment had not the eye of this dispenser -of metropolitan information lighted upon Ilingsworth as the latter, -trying to escape attention, stepped into the low-arched doorway of the -Wilkinson home. The opportunity was too good to be lost. - -"The gentleman," proceeded the privileged lecturer, "now entering -this impressive imperial mansion, is not Peter V. Wilkinson. Note -the sinister expression of the back of his head and the peculiar -attitude of his right arm!" The megaphone turned itself directly upon -Ilingsworth, and kept on: "He looks like a disgruntled depositor of the -Interstate Trust Company--what if he be making a call for the purpose -of putting a pill into the proprietor? What?" - -Ilingsworth turned an involuntary, startled glance toward the car. -Despite a desperate effort at self-control, he was visibly alarmed, -and jerked his hand swiftly from the confines of his pocket. Amidst a -chorus of laughter at his action the car rolled on. Ilingsworth turned -back to the entrance of the house, muttering to himself: - -"They little know, they little know...." - -Presently he pulled himself together and pressed the button with that -same right hand, then squared his shoulders, once more dropping both -hands at his side. There was a short interval of waiting, during which -he kept repeating to himself, as though conning some essential lesson: - -"Leslie Wilkinson--Leslie Wilkinson, that's the man I want to see." - -Suddenly a heavy door was swung open inward and a butler stood before -him, bowing. - -"Leslie Wilkinson," demanded Ilingsworth somewhat explosively. There -was no prefix to the name--Ilingsworth was not considering the -conventionalities. He had come fresh from the confidential reports of -Wall Street detectives. Those two words had seared themselves into his -brain. - -The butler looked surprised, shocked, that is, so far as his rigid -training would permit. - -"Leslie Wilkinson," he repeated doubtfully, as though already -hypnotised into the other's trend of thought. - -"Leslie Wilkinson," said Ilingsworth, "and right away." - -The servant bowed. - -"Who shall I say, sir?" - -Ilingsworth smiled. It was all too easy, so it seemed. He felt as -though the fates were with him, as though before him lay the path -to victory. His breath came short and fast as he thought of the -possibilities: for if he should succeed, Elinor forever would be -safe--could take her rightful place in society. - -"There's my card," he said, drawing forth his wallet. - -Instantly the butler became obsequious, for not only did he perceive -that the visitor bore himself as a gentleman, but he recognised the -card as an open-sesame to his master. He handled it with infinite -respect. It read: - - MR. GILES ILINGSWORTH - - _Vice-President of the - Tri-State Trust Company, - New York._ - -"Your pardon, sir," said the butler before he closed the door, and -With a nod of the head towards the street. "Your car--does it need -attention, sir? Our garage is only half a block away. Shall I send out -and tell your chauffeur, sir?" - -Ilingsworth's glance followed that of the butler's. A blue limousine -stood throbbing at the curb. It had evidently been there all the while, -though Ilingsworth had failed to observe it. - -"It's not my car," he returned brusquely. - -Again a puzzled look came over the servant's face, but concealing his -embarrassment, he closed the door. - -"Very good, sir," he said. "Kindly step this way." - -Ilingsworth followed him down the long hall to the entrance of a room -before which stood another servant. - -"Step into the reception-room, sir, if you please," said the butler. -But, to the astonishment of both men, the footman advanced and waved -them back, saying: - -"One moment, please, sir." And oblivious to the fact that Ilingsworth -was standing in the middle of the broad hall, he drew the butler to one -side, whispered in a confidential, off-duty aside: "You must not take -him in there. Put him somewhere else." - -"Why not?" asked the butler. "Who's in there?" - -The footman became inexcusably mysterious. He looked about him on all -sides to see that he was unheard. Then he shaded his mouth with his -hand and placed his lips close to the other's ear. - -"Her," he whispered. - -The butler eyed the footman sharply. - -"Her!" he exclaimed. "Who's she?" - -"There's only one her," he answered, and pursed his lips as though -about to perpetrate an explosion. And then it came: "Miss Braine, of -course. Here's her card." - -The man who had admitted Giles Ilingsworth stiffened when he looked -upon this card, which read: - - MISS MADELINE BRAINE - - The Llandegraff - ----th Street and - the Drive. - -"Not the governor's ...?" - -"The same." - -"What's she doing here?" - -For answer the footman merely shrugged his shoulders. - -"When did she come?" asked the butler. - -"Ten minutes or so ago." - -"But I didn't see her come." - -"I let her in; you were downstairs." - -The butler came as near to a whistle as any butler on duty ever came. -What is more, in his agitation at this new and unexpected crisis, he -quite forgot the presence of Giles Ilingsworth, vice-president of the -largest trust company in the world. - -"There'll be the devil to pay if the missus sees her! Did she ask -for----" - -"She came to see the governor," interrupted the footman, shaking his -head; "and what's more, she says she's going to wait until he comes." - -The butler knitted his brows. - -"You were a fool to let her in! Is that her car outside?" - -"Don't you know it when you see it?" - -The mention of the car forced the butler's thoughts back to -Ilingsworth. He started toward the financier of the Tri-State Company -with abundant apology upon his lips. - -"I beg your pardon, sir ..." he began, and then stopped. For as he -passed the door of the reception-room he was able to peer into it, and -by some servant's trick to sweep every corner of it with his glance. It -was a room void of hangings, almost bare in its rich simplicity--one of -those triumphs of interior decoration. The butler's face was pale as he -retraced his steps and once more faced his fellow-servant. - -"There's not a soul in there--see for yourself." - -The other did see for himself, and he, too, looked bewildered. - -"But I put her in there, and I put her there to stay. I didn't leave -her for more than half a second. Where's she gone?" - -Instantly the butler took charge of the situation, and in commanding -sotto voce directed the other to look in the library, the music-room, -the Louis XIV. room, even in the grand salon. - -The search was conducted quietly and with decorum, and it is only due -to these two past-masters of the art of footmanship to say that this -dialogue had taken an almost infinitesimal space of time, that its -utterance had been practically inaudible, and that Ilingsworth, the -guest to whom these two had owed a very present duty, had not yet -begun to realise that his interests were in any wise neglected. - -But the footman came back disgruntled, disturbed, and wailing that she -was not to be found. And then it was that the butler stepped once more -to the side of Giles Ilingsworth and said somewhat contritely: - -"Beg your pardon, sir, but would you mind stepping into 'the Den,'" all -the while showing the way. "It's Mr. Wilkinson's favourite place, his -private room, sir, for seeing all his friends--business and otherwise, -sir--yes, sir." - -Ilingsworth followed where the butler led. And then, turning sharply -upon him, he repeated: - -"I'm waiting to see Leslie Wilkinson. Do you understand?" - -"Very good, sir." - -Alone in "the Den" Ilingsworth smiled as he looked about him. Fate -was surely favouring him. The Den was a quasi-business office and -smoking-room, a room where anybody might be interviewed by anybody -of the household. It was in this room that Tiffany's man displayed -his biggest, newest jewels to Mrs. Peter V.; it was in this room that -Mrs. Peter V.'s women friends would drop in evenings for a chat with -Peter V. as he smoked a black cigar; it was the comfortable place of -the whole, big house. But to Ilingsworth it was something more: it -was the place best fitted for the arena of events as events had shaped -themselves. "The Den" had but one window--a high window that ran along -one side of the wall just underneath the black-beamed ceiling and -just above a long, comfortable, leather seat that ran along the wall. -The window was above the head of an ordinary man, and was composed of -leaded glass. It gave but little light, and afforded no view at all of -the world without. For the rest, there was a big, flat-topped desk, -heavy, leather-covered lounging-chairs, and heavy, dark red curtains -everywhere about the walls. And but a single door. - -"The place I've dreamed about," Ilingsworth thought to himself. For an -instant he stood drinking in all of its details in some sort of gleeful -ecstasy--the ecstasy of a man who feels the end of the journey near. -And then, suddenly, he became all action. He stepped to the desk upon -which stood a desk-telephone upon a standard, and a small mahogany -tablet with two push-buttons on its surface. - -"I can't understand why it's all so easy," he told himself; and the -next moment he drew from his left coat-pocket a pair of wire-cutters, -and with two sudden, jerky twists of his right wrist he clipped the -flexible green-covered wires that connected the push-buttons and the -telephone, and twisted the unconnected ends down and out of sight. -It was his first advent in this house of Wilkinson, and yet he had -rehearsed the scene in his waking hours and in his sleep so many, many -times, that he did it without nervousness and without fear. So that -he was not surprised to find himself more than practise-perfect. He -glanced about the room for evidences of other wires, buttons, bells and -speaking tubes, and then swooped down upon the door. - -"If only it has a key!" he thought; and the next moment he almost cried -out joyfully, for he found that it had not only a key, but that it -might be bolted from the inside. - -"And when it's bolted," he assured himself, "What sound can penetrate -beyond its walls?" - -Beyond its walls! The phrase, somehow, kept ringing in his ears; to him -there was music in it. He never thought of the walls themselves; nor -had he ever asked himself whether behind those rich and heavy hanging -curtains there might not be other means of exit. - -He took his place behind the open door. - -"Now for the crisis," he said calmly to himself. - -And plunging his hand once more into his coat-pocket he produced -a gun--a modern, hammerless revolver that he had selected with -considerable care, after consulting the advertisements in the -magazines, and after reading the booklets of their makers. This gun -he had selected, not only on account of its particular efficiency, -but also because of its remarkably repulsive look. It bore the same -formidable appearance compared with the large family of fire-arms as -the bull-dog does to his canine race. It was a weapon of peculiarly -terrifying appearance--and that was what he wanted. For the rest, it -was a .32 calibre, and upon its handle it bore the maker's name and -a number--a number that belonged to this particular weapon and to no -other weapon of this make in the whole wide world. - -Suddenly the sound of footsteps in the hall without reached his ears. -Every nerve tingled with his purpose; every muscle became rigid and -alert. - -"Now!" he exclaimed. - -" ... Wilkinson," said the voice. - -It was a mumbled announcement of some sort which came from the butler. -Ilingsworth waited until he had retreated, and only when he was certain -that but one figure had entered the room, was looking about in wonder -at its apparent emptiness, did he slowly, swiftly close the door, lock -it, bolt it, and finally place his back against it. Then, levelling the -weapon, he extended it toward the person who had entered. - -"Seat yourself at that desk," he commanded, a dangerous note in his -voice; "and don't make any outcry, or I'll----" - -He stopped short and lowered his weapon. - -"Why--I----" he stammered, growing red-faced as he spoke. - -It was a mere wisp of a girl who confronted him--a girl full-throated -and full-bosomed, and upon whom the gods had conferred that dazzling of -all dazzling charms: light hair and dark brown eyes. Fascinating she -was even to Ilingsworth, bewildering, too, as she gazed upon him in -sudden fear, her eyes widening, her lips parted. - -"I--I beg your pardon," he stammered, consternation making it difficult -for him to speak. "I was expecting quite another person--Leslie -Wilkinson." - -Too frightened to reply the girl merely stood and gazed at him. For a -moment she remained thus, and then, with the shudder of one who shakes -from her some horrible nightmare, she found her voice and said: - -"Why, I'm Miss Wilkinson--Leslie Wilkinson!" - -Ilingsworth could hardly believe his ears. - -"You--you are Leslie Wilkinson!" he broke out. "Surely there must be -some mistake. Leslie is a man's name, isn't it?" - -[Illustration: It was a mere wisp of a girl who confronted him] - -The girl struggled to regain her composure. Dumbfounded and confused -though he was, Ilingsworth saw this, and with a hasty movement -thrust the revolver behind his back. And still facing her, he retreated -to a small table at the far corner of the room, and leaned against it, -thus concealing the weapon. In a measure this action of his reassured -the girl. Her countenance broke into a tremulous smile, though her -breast rose and fell tumultuously and her breath came in gasps. - -"Yes," she replied in an endeavour to gain time, "Leslie is a man's -name except when it happens to be a girl's name, too. My name is -Leslie--I'm a girl--you see." - -But again terror seized her. The man before her was undoubtedly insane, -she thought, and she glanced widely about the room for some avenue of -escape. There was only the door, and like some startled, wild thing, -she broke into a run toward it. But half way across the room she -halted, throwing over her shoulder a glance of fear toward Ilingsworth, -and then slowly retreated to her position at the desk. - -"Please don't shoot!" she pleaded. "I promise you I won't try to get -away!" - -Slowly, cautiously, Ilingsworth stretched forth his left hand. It was -evident that he did not wish to frighten the girl. - -"Don't be afraid," he assured her, and so quietly and courteously now -that it seemed to the girl as if another man was speaking. "I'm not -going to shoot--I shall stay right where I am, don't fear. If you wish -you may go now." But as she started to go he leaned forward and said: -"You're free to go,"--there was a pathetic note in his voice now,--"but -I would like to tell you something--to explain my presence here. I -came here looking for Leslie Wilkinson--the son of Peter V. Wilkinson, -and----" - -"But," she interrupted, in a puzzled way, "but my father has no -son--I'm his only child." - -Ilingsworth bowed his head. - -"I know that now," he answered, "but I didn't know it before. I was -looking for a conspirator of Peter V. Wilkinson's, and I thought I had -run him down. I thought I had, indeed.... You must not be frightened," -he went on hastily, "and don't think me crazy. I'm only horribly -nervous. I've been desperate for weeks. I wouldn't harm you for the -world--I have a daughter of my own. But you must hear me out--I've got -to tell this to somebody--somebody who believes me, or I'll go mad. No, -no," he pleaded, for she seemed about to leave him. "My name is--why, -here's my card--I'm----" - -"Oh, to be sure, Mr. Giles Ilingsworth, Vice-President of the -Tri-State," she said smilingly, giving a hasty look at the card in -his hand. "I remember, now, a quarter of an hour ago I wondered what -you might want with me. You see I dressed all up for you," and she -flashed a glance of coquetry toward him that was meant to captivate -and appease, for she was still under the impression that she was -dealing with an insane man: not for one moment did she believe that the -Vice-President of the Tri-State stood before her. - -Ilingsworth turned pale as he watched her. Although apparently -indifferent to her words, her marvellous self-possession and witchery -were by no means lost on him. With something of a pang he realised -that it was easily explainable. She was Wilkinson's daughter; she had -her share of his wonderful steadiness of nerve. He sighed. How many -times had he given thanks that Elinor was all woman, all heart, gentle, -yielding. And yet, how much better for her if she had some of the -qualities that Wilkinson seemed to have infused into his offspring. -Little did he know that Elinor was fashioned in his own mould; that -the dark-eyed, warm-faced girl that he had left at home had inherited -his impulsiveness, for he had been denied the even balance accorded to -other business men. Compared with the caressing tenderness of his girl -Elinor, this girl who faced him seemed, perhaps, too well-balanced. But -though he did not know it, he was mistaken: Leslie Wilkinson, though of -a different type, was fully as feminine. - -"Elinor," he groaned half to himself. - -"Mr. Ilingsworth," Leslie began, breaking in on his musings, "may I ask -what you want with Leslie Wilkinson?" - -Her question roused him. The blood forced itself into his temples until -the veins stood out like whipcords on his skull; desperation furrowed -his brow and lined his face. - -"I want nothing of Leslie Wilkinson except my own," he answered -sullenly. "There's a quarter of a million dollars that belongs to -me--a quarter of a million dollars--every dollar that I've got in this -world--every dollar that I ever had." - -"But," protested the girl, "I haven't your money." - -Ilingsworth raised his eyebrows. It was plain that he doubted her, -though she spoke with every indication of honesty and frankness. - -"You haven't any money, any stocks, bonds, deeds, or anything of the -kind?" - -"I have what my mother left me," was her quiet answer. "She died some -time ago." - -"How much was it?" he persisted. - -"Why do you ask?" she returned, annoyed. - -Ilingsworth made a gesture of impatience and again he asked: - -"How much was it?" - -"Less--than a million," the girl faltered. "About three-quarters, I -should say. I have the figures somewheres--but what is it to you?" - -The man brushed away her answer as though the three-quarters of a -million were a mere dross. - -"Tell me the truth!" he cried. "For heaven's sake don't lie to me! I'm -a broken man! You've got fifty million dollars, possibly a hundred -million standing in your name. What do you suppose I've spent my -last few thousands for but to get information that was reliable and -positive. I know Peter V. Wilkinson--and I'm the only one, I'll wager, -who knows the truth. Next week, next year, the world will say that -Wilkinson is bankrupt--without a dollar in the world. But I know--I've -found out. There is not another man in the world who could do the -thing he's done--strip a million people of their savings and hide it -so successfully. That's Wilkinson! Now whom could he trust--but you? -You've got it all!" - -The girl was pale, but there was a new light in her eyes. She began to -perceive that the man who confronted her was not a mere overwrought -specimen of mankind. However much he might be mistaken this time, he -was talking with the force of business habit. - -"You know as well as I, Mr. Ilingsworth, that I can't very well -discuss these matters with you," she said frankly. "My father is -ruined--I don't believe he will come out of this with a dollar. Who -is responsible for his ruin, I do not know." Little wrinkles creased -her forehead; she stopped uncertain how to continue. "It's the panic, -I suppose," she went on presently, "and he's gone down under it like -other Wall Street men. Only the blow--he suffered, perhaps, more than -the others." - -Ilingsworth's lip curled. - -"I know," he began emphatically, "I know that Peter V. Wilkinson is -still worth from fifty to a hundred million dollars--money sucked like -life-blood from the populace. I know that and more--his entire fortune -stands, in a manner and by a method that no one ever will suspect, in -your name. Your name, of course--whom else could he trust? Surely not -his second wife, with all that money? You know that well enough." - -"Mr. Ilingsworth, I----" - -"And because you had these millions," went on Ilingsworth hurriedly, -excitedly, "among them my quarter of a million, not mine, but -Elinor's,--do you know what that means to her?" - -Leslie was strangely affected. She felt her consciousness vacillating -between a sense of danger and a sense of pity. Surreptitiously, during -the first part of the interview, she had pressed the button for -assistance, and had discovered, later, the disconnection of the wires. -Just what to do she did not know. Above all, she realised that she -must propitiate this man--this man with the grievance, real or fancied, -whose statements, if true, gave her the desire to hear more; if untrue, -rendered him all the more a man of danger. Impulsively she held out her -hand, and said softly: - -"Do tell me about your daughter--Elinor--Mr. Ilingsworth." - -Immediately Ilingsworth dropped his air of aggressiveness. He advanced -slowly toward her, his right hand still in his coat-pocket, but, as -he approached her, he drew forth that hand, and with it, a small -photograph. - -"That's Elinor,"--he said, his face lighting up wonderfully,--"as she -was about a year ago--about the time I met your father. If I had known -that you existed, I should have wished that she could know you." - -Leslie took the picture from his hand and looked long and intently at -it. To her surprise she saw that this was no ordinary face. The girl -was evidently petite, with an expression on her face that seemed to ask -for the world's fond protection as well as its admiration; a girl with -her soul in her eyes, at any rate, so it seemed to Leslie. - -"Oh, she's pretty!" she exclaimed. "But someone must always take care -of her--always, always." - -"You've said it, though I never even thought it!" he cried. "And you, -a stranger, see it--that appeal for protection, that wistfulness, -that----" Abruptly he stopped and glanced quickly toward the heavy -hangings on the wall toward the right--a strange, startled glance it -was. - -Leslie followed the direction of his gaze wonderingly. - -"I had a feeling, somehow," he said, fastening his steely grey eyes -suspiciously on her, "that we were not alone." - -And indeed Ilingsworth would have been all the more startled had he -known that his fancy embodied the truth. For behind the dull red -curtains breathed a mortal who had heard, had seen, everything. - - - - -II - - -However successful Ilingsworth believed he had been in his effort -to persuade himself that his intuitive faculties had been at fault, -when they warned him of some alien presence in the room, it must be -acknowledged that he continued to look a little tentatively. At length, -however, his uneasiness wore off, and his manner, while again holding -out the picture for Leslie to look upon, softened so perceptibly that -it would have given one the impression that his visit there was more -in the nature of a social call than the tempestuous errand of business -vengeance that it was. - -"I wish you had known her," Ilingsworth said; "and I'm rather surprised -that you don't. We're Morristown people, you know, and Elinor, well, -Elinor's friends are all very nice people. Even in New York, she----" - -Leslie's eyes sought the ground. - -"We go out very little here," she said. "Of course I have my friends, -and there was a time.... But since my father married a second time, -why----" This girlish confidence trailed off into uncertainty. She -handed back the photograph. "But I should like to know her," she -declared with sincerity. - -"I wish you did," he began, and then added, "even in the light of -present things, I wish you did." - -In the silence that followed Leslie fell to wondering about the man -before her, and it did not take her long to decide that she liked him. -He was not, it is true, of the same shrewd, practical mould as her -father. But she recognised that he had the high-strung temperament, so -often a characteristic of the aristocrat. The sense of fear was fast -leaving her. - -"I--I'm going to apologise," he began at length, "for the fright I've -given you, though my purpose hasn't flagged. And if I had a man to deal -with--if I had met Peter V. Wilkinson, face to face again, who knows -but the demon in me would come once more to the fore. You say you can't -understand. Let me explain to you how it was: Up to thirteen months ago -we, Elinor and I, had a quarter of a million dollars--that means nearly -fifteen thousand dollars a year. And fifteen thousand in Morristown -means decent living--even here in New York it would mean that. Then I -met Wilkinson." His face grew livid, his hand clenched. "May heaven -forgive me, why didn't I understand it was my quarter of a million that -this vampire----" - -The girl drew herself up and quickly interrupted him. - -"Mr. Ilingsworth, I must remind you that you are speaking of my father." - -There was no mistaking her anger. Her eyes blazed, and it seemed to -rouse the tiger in him. - -"Yes, I'm speaking of your father!" he cried. "And if you've never -heard the truth before, you will hear it now. Moreover, if I am any -judge of human nature, you'll know whether I am stating facts or -otherwise. Thirteen months ago Peter V. Wilkinson sought me out. I -thought I was seeking him,"--he laughed bitterly,--"but I was wrong. -He sought me out and placed me high up in his companies. I was -successful--which meant that he had succeeded in his scheme. I did not -see it then; but now I know that the man who is willing to stoop low -enough to rope in the pennies of the Bridgets, the Michaels, the Lenas, -and the Gustaves, of this world, is a man who would spend his time and -money to get my quarter of a million--mine and Elinor's--in his grasp. -But then I was flattered. It meant big salary and big dividends for me, -at least, so I was assured." - -He faltered for an instant, and then went on: - -"I was a fool--a fool, not to see it all before. The result is that now -I haven't got a dollar--we're penniless." - -"My father," returned the girl, calmly enough, "will have less than -that, when all is said and done. This house, though it's in the name -of Mrs. Wilkinson, will have to be sold, I presume. I don't see why you -make a fuss over it--it was the panic, wasn't it? Everybody went down -before it. That is, a great many Wall Street men are bankrupt. So, why -do you complain?" - -"I complain because your father has got my quarter of a million--either -he's got it, or you have." - -"I told you before that I have none of my father's money. I have my -mother's money only--less than a million, that's all." - -"The panic!" went on Ilingsworth bitterly, ignoring her protest. "Yes, -that's just like Wilkinson to lay it to the panic! That's what they all -do! I tell you the panic was not the cause; it was the excuse. I wonder -if you have ever stopped to realise what a trust company is for?" - -"Why, to save people's money, of course," was the girl's ready answer. -"Just like a bank, isn't it?" - -Ilingsworth almost snorted. It was a strange colloquy, this -conversation between the man of middle age and the girl. It had a -curious interest that neither could have defined. The girl, on her -part, felt that Ilingsworth represented, somehow, the criticism and -abuse that the world was heaping on Peter V. Wilkinson. She wanted to -estimate its full force, to weigh its import, and then to defend her -father with every fibre of her being; Ilingsworth, on the other hand, -felt the need of a confidant who would understand, for Elinor of the -wistful eyes could only sympathise. This young woman knew what he was -talking about. - -"Miss Wilkinson," he burst out now, "you surprise me! I thought you -were more of a business woman than I am a business man. But I find -you're not. Let me explain it to you. Jones wants to run a factory; -Smith wants to speculate in real estate; Robinson wants to buck the -Wall Street game. Now they haven't got a dollar, so what do they do? -They buy a trust company." - -The girl opened her eyes wide. - -"That's nonsense!" she exclaimed. "How can anyone buy a trust company -without a dollar!" - -Ilingsworth's smile was full of meaning. - -"It's the kind of nonsense your own father has been dealing in for -years," he returned, placing his hand upon her arm. "They buy the -trust company, and put up its own stock as security for the purchase -price--then they go ahead. Jones runs his factory; Smith buys and sells -real estate; Robinson bucks the game upon the Street...." - -"And without money?" reiterated the girl, still incredulous. - -"_With money_," corrected Ilingsworth, his voice even and unexcited -now, "with the money of Mike and Bridget and Carl and Sophy, depositors -who put their hard-earned dollars in to get a few cents interest--two -per cent., to be exact--while Jones and his crowd are making two -hundred per cent. on the money. But Jones isn't through--he wants more. -So he and his crowd buy another trust company, put up the stock of the -first as collateral, or any way you please,--there's no end to the -game,--and this crowd go on with their speculation, using the people's -money, and gathering in the cream. They never stop; and just so long as -everything is prosperous, so long are the trust companies sound. Then, -in the fulness of time, comes the panic,"--and with his clenched hands -he smote the top of the desk,--"smash!" - -The girl showed that she had been following him closely when she -maintained: - -"Still, that's only your point of view. At any rate, it was a venture, -and when the panic came--everybody goes under. These people don't -create the panic." - -Ilingsworth gritted his teeth. - -"I haven't finished!" he cried. "Out of all this crowd of Jones, Smith -and Robinson, there is always one man who understands the game. -He owns seventeen trust companies; he's milked them dry. He's been -_waiting_ for a panic; the panic comes. Now he throws up his hands, -tells the people he's been a fool with the rest, and shows up worthless -stock--waste-paper by the ton that he has bought for just nothing a -pound. But he's got _all_ that the people haven't got, and he's salted -it away. And that man's name is Peter V. Wilkinson." - -Leslie's face paled. - -"Mr. Ilingsworth," she cried sharply, "do you really believe all that -you've been telling me?" - -Ilingsworth stared her wearily in the face. - -"The Norahs and the Ludwigs, perhaps, don't mind losing their few -dollars," he replied vaguely; "but I want to tell you that when I--when -Elinor and I lose fifteen thousand a year--and how many years there are -ahead of us--it's killing! Killing! And you ask do I believe all that -I've been telling you?" He roused himself to sudden energy. "Believe? -Why, heavens and earth, I know, I know...." - -There was a pause in which Ilingsworth's eyes sought the floor. -Presently he looked up and held out his hand. - -"Miss Wilkinson," he said contritely, "for what I've done, or tried -to do this afternoon, I suppose you could have me put in jail--in an -asylum. If I had only myself to think of, I shouldn't mind. However, -I beg you to keep it to yourself, if you feel you can. I see things -clearer now...." - -Leslie took the offered hand. - -"But you weren't going to shoot Leslie Wilkinson, if he'd been a man?" - -Ilingsworth shook his head. - -"To tell the truth, Miss Wilkinson, I wasn't. My intention was to -frighten him...." - -"You succeeded admirably," she answered, with a frank laugh. Then she -added: "What were you going to frighten him into doing?" - -Ilingsworth's hand strayed to his forehead. - -"I was going to compel him to sign a check, turn over stock, restore to -me my quarter of a million, somehow." - -The girl smiled as she asked: - -"But how could he do it in this room? Surely you didn't expect him to -have any stocks or money here? And if he gave a check, you know payment -on it could be stopped the instant you had left. And, anyway, how could -you get out unscathed? I can't just see how you could...." - -Ilingsworth stared at her, fascinated. He felt his vision clear. He -realised now that she was right; that for weeks he had suffered the -curse of, the desperate; that he had been robbed of the one thing -that the desperate man needs--deliberation. He had possessed purpose, -force--the purpose to force the issue at the point of a murderous -revolver, but when it came to the execution.... And what about the -result? To what end would it all tend? Until now he had never thought -of that. - -"I believe you're right, after all," he said somewhat sheepishly, and -started toward the door. "May I ask you for your promise not to expose -me," he entreated, "for the sake of Elinor?" - -Leslie bowed her head. Now that it was all over, she was on the verge -of hysteria. "Mr. Ilingsworth, I won't say a word about it," she -promised, "unless the time comes when I think it necessary.... This -panic seems to have made us all half crazy--even my father seems so -most of the time. Good-bye!" - -Somewhat incoherently Ilingsworth murmured some grateful words, and -immediately after Leslie watched him silently and carefully unlock the -door and open it. The hall was deserted save for the presence of a -footman near the front entrance, and to him this long interview behind -closed doors was as nothing. These were parlous times in the house of -Wilkinson; strange goings and comings were the rule, not the exception. -Nothing was unusual. And so Ilingsworth passed out in safety, carrying -his purpose with him to the free air outside. - -But no sooner had he reached the middle of the sidewalk than there -swooped down upon him a horde of vagabonds, infinitesimal specimens of -humanity, and this mob of street gamins had but a single purpose, sang -but a common song: - - TRI-STATE TRUST COMPANY CLOSES ITS DOORS. - - BIGGEST SMASH ON RECORD. - -For weeks and months, perhaps, Ilingsworth had seen this coming, had -known that it was inevitable, and here it was, thrust into his face -in scare headlines that smelt to heaven! It smote him as with sudden -lightning shock. But the public announcement did more than shock him, -it turned him almost into a raving maniac. For an instant he stood -silent, regarding the clamorous morsels of humanity all about him, -clamorous for the smallest coin known to the Union. Then, with mighty -swings of his arms, he swooped upon them, shrieking: - -"Get out of my sight, get out of my sight, you ragamuffins!" - -The newsboys fled as far as the next corner. There they stopped, -clustered once again and jeered at him. - -Turning, Ilingsworth again faced the house of Wilkinson. - -"I'm tricked--tricked!" he cried. "Why did I give up so easy; why -didn't I force the girl...." For a moment he checked his half-frenzied -words, then he went on: "Peter V. Wilkinson, I'll even up with you, -somehow, yet!" - -In a few moments he had turned the nearest corner and disappeared. - -Back in the Wilkinson household, Leslie, almost exhausted, sank into a -chair. As she sat there, she perceived one of the footmen passing her, -bound from the rear to the outer entrance. - -"Jeffries," cried the girl, springing up, "tell Jordan that it will be -quite unnecessary to mention Mr. Ilingsworth's call to anyone. He came -to see me." - -"Very good, ma'am," returned the footman, passing on. - -"And Jeffries," she continued, "have you anything to do just now?" - -"Nothing, Miss Leslie," answered the man, "except to obtain the latest -extras for Mrs. Wilkinson. She's that particular about it." - -"Are there any extras now?" inquired the girl. - -The footman inclined his head toward the entrance to the house, through -which Ilingsworth had just made his exit. - -"Don't you hear them, Miss?" he asked. - -And indeed, at that moment, the yelping of the young street wolves -of Manhattan could plainly be heard. Leslie placed her hands over -her ears and fled incontinently up the broad stairs, disdaining the -services of the man at the lift, who rose expectantly as she started -past him. On reaching the first landing, she met Roy Pallister--little -Pallister, she always thought of him, and noting the consternation on -his countenance, she could not refrain from bursting into laughter. - -"Why, Mr. Pallister," she cried, "you look as if you had been shot out -of a cannon!" - -In a moment Pallister's look of worriment changed to one of temporary -happiness. He was an undersized little fellow, doing the duties of -his insignificant career with a gentle manner. He was her father's -household secretary, amanuensis, a paid servant, it is true; but -critics of the Wilkinson household always maintained two things: -first, that there was only one gentlewoman there--Leslie; and only one -gentleman--Pallister. Leslie liked him, yet she could not eradicate -from the humorous part of her nature the fact that Pallister was ever -like a shuttlecock, dancing his dignified but harried attendance now -upon Peter V. and then upon another member of the household, whose -demands were even more exacting. - -"Have you been shot out of a cannon, Mr. Pallister?" she persisted. - -Pallister turned his eyes away from hers: he didn't dare to look at -Leslie too long. To him she was just a bit too bewildering. After a -time his glance crept back to hers. - -"Yes, Miss Wilkinson," he said nervously, "and what's more, I've got to -come back directly and face the cannon's mouth again." - -Leslie touched him lightly on the shoulder; a thrill passed through the -young man's frame. - -"Never mind," she said smilingly, "I'm going up to spike the cannon for -you." - -On reaching the second floor she knocked gently, but persistently, at a -boudoir door. - -"Oh, who is it now?" came in a petulant, nasal voice from within. -"Come in, if you're coming; otherwise stay out!" And an expression of -something like pain crossed the girl's face as she entered. - -Sitting up in bed in a flowered-silk kimona, a lady was sipping a -claret cup. Year after year, like the Wilkinson mansion, the lineaments -and form of this lady had been portrayed in the press throughout the -country; and long after she was entitled to any claim to comeliness, -she had been heralded as one of the beauties of the universe. As a -matter of fact, her delicate form--if delicate form she had ever -possessed--had been wholly obliterated by a generous layer of -avoirdupois--lumps wherever the lumps were the least needed. - -"Oh, it's you, is it?" she snapped. - -Leslie groaned inwardly as she looked at the woman before her; -for this lady of leisure was the Maggie Lane mentioned by the -megaphone--Margaret Lane Wilkinson now, but still Maggie by nature--and -her step-mother! The girl's eyes moistened as she thought of her own -mother that she had known, and who had died a short time ago. For in -the case of Wilkinson the funeral baked meats had almost furnished the -marriage feast. - -"Anything I can do?" asked the young girl, forcing up the pleasant -little smile that was always part and parcel of Leslie Wilkinson. - -The lady of the flowered kimona did not respond at once, but kept her -eyes fastened on the door. - -"I told Jeffries to get those extras right away--he's been gone an -hour," she complained. - -Leslie could not suppress a smile when she saw the multitude of papers -that bestrewed the bed and floor, and before she could speak, the elder -woman went on, between sips of her claret cup, to say: - -"Oh, the disgrace of these failures! The terrible charges that -are made! I simply cannot stand it! A mere girl, like you, cannot -appreciate the strain of this thing on my nerves. And everybody thinks -of nothing but the strain on Peter; no one considers poor me----" - -"Oh, but you must not take it so to heart," said the girl with -well-feigned sympathy. "Everybody is failing now." - -"But I have looked these papers through and through," Mrs. Peter V. -went on, "and nowhere, nowhere have I been considered at all. Why, not -one paper has even mentioned my name to-day. For a month not one of -them has published a picture of me; yet they are full of pictures of -Peter V., this house, and of the Tri-State Trust Company offices. It -makes me sick--nobody thinks of me." - -At this moment the footman knocked at the door. Leslie stepped forward -and took the papers that he passed in, tossing them lightly on the bed. - -"Oh! Oh!" wailed Mrs. Peter V. as her eye rested on the headlines. "The -Tri-State has gone up! This is the end--the end of everything! Here, -Leslie, you take this paper, and I'll take that--we'll see whether -there isn't something in them about me." - - * * * * * - -On the floor below, no sooner had Leslie left the Den than there was -a rustle behind the heavy curtains, in that room, and presently they -were parted, and then, with a stealthy movement a woman stepped forth -into the middle of the room. - -Madeline Braine looked carefully about her, listened for an instant, -and then advanced still further toward the door. Her attitude was -watchfulness itself. - -"His daughter Elinor, a girl who needs protection!" she cried, with -an agitation born of fresh events, and then a half-sob broke from her -lips. "There are other girls who should have had care just as much--and -haven't had it." - -She glanced at her watch and started forward once again. - -"I can't wait!" she cried. "Why isn't Peter Wilkinson here?" - -For a moment it occurred to her to cross the hall to the -reception-room, and from there to summon a servant and give him a -message. She had had her own reasons, in the first instance, for -darting into Wilkinson's Den to hide. She well knew that her agreement -with Wilkinson forbade her to cross his threshold; but she intended to -make a crisis in her affairs as an excuse to him, and quite naturally -decided that there would be much less danger in the Den of her being -discovered by others than in the reception-room. Now, there were -reasons why she must not be found within this room: the interview -between Ilingsworth and Leslie Wilkinson made it impossible. And she -started to leave, but suddenly drew back. - -"Somebody's coming," she whispered to herself. And scarcely had she -retreated once more behind the concealing curtains of the Den when -Jeffries entered with an armful of the latest extras and laid them down -upon the desk. After that, he passed out, but events happened with such -unusual rapidity that Madeline Braine found herself again caught like a -rat in a trap behind the heavy curtains in the room. - -"It's just as well," she assured herself, as she waited there, every -minute expecting to get a chance to escape; but as it turned out, it -was not just as well for her. - - * * * * * - -Alone at last in the silence and solitude of her own apartments at -the top of the house, Leslie sat for some moments on the window-seat, -gazing out over the Hudson at the misty, dusky shore across the way. - -"I wonder," she mused, "if what this man Ilingsworth says is true. Is -it possible that my father----" she stopped abruptly. "No, no, it can't -be true," she went on; "my father wouldn't...." But the face of Giles -Ilingsworth rose before her, and she found herself searching his open, -honest countenance for some loophole of escape. Now his words rang in -her ears, and she felt that they were the words of a man who knew.... - -"Oh," she cried, "I must find out who is right, and who is wrong! I -must know about my father, and what he has done!" Presently, she leaped -to her feet, crossed to her dressing-table and picked up the photograph -of a man--a young man with a square chin and wonderful eyes--so she -thought--that looked her squarely in the face. - -"Eliot," she said softly, to the picture, "you're always honest with -me, are you not? You're honest with everybody. I wonder if you will -find out for me--the truth about my father." - -Now she drew the photograph nearer to her, and her eyes grew soft -and tender, and, for the time being, she forgot Ilingsworth and his -daughter Elinor; forgot the Tri-State Trust Company and its alleged -iniquities; forgot even her father, Peter V. Wilkinson. - -"Eliot, dear," she whispered, "I wonder what you would think of me, if -you knew that I did this?" Whereupon, she pressed her soft, warm, young -face against the pictured one. "Maybe you'll never know, though," she -went on; "maybe you'll never take the trouble to find out." - -Leslie laid down the photograph with a sigh, and, retracing her -steps to the window, was just in time to see a big Mastodon bring -up at the curb in the street below, from which four men alighted: -Peter V. Wilkinson, her father, looking very much exercised and -troubled; Flomerfelt, his confidential man; and, lastly, two Pinkerton -detectives, recently-acquired guards who were never far away whenever -he appeared in the open. - - - - -III - - -"What the deuce is that machine doing in front of my place?" were the -words that Peter V. Wilkinson spoke as his eyes lighted upon the dark -blue limousine that had been standing for so long a time before his -house. - -"Whose machine is it?" answered Flomerfelt, who had not yet recognised -it. But a moment more he emitted a whistle and whispered softly under -his breath: "By George, it's hers!" - -Wilkinson's eyes bulged with anger. - -"What does she mean by coming here?" He clutched Flomerfelt's shoulder -as in a vise. "You don't suppose she's come to see my wife, do you? -What's she up to? Why, I wouldn't have even little Pallister see her -for the world! And as for Leslie! Thunder and lightning, if Leslie -finds this out--anything but that!" - -Wilkinson started toward the blue machine, bent on interviewing the -chauffeur. - -"Look here, my man----" he began; but whatever imprecations he intended -to hurl at the chauffeur's head never passed his lips, for then it was -that something happened: a strange, dishevelled figure dashed suddenly -into the group, threw itself upon Wilkinson and seized him by the -throat. With almost maniacal energy the assailant forced Wilkinson up -against the blue machine, and digging his fingers into that gentleman's -wind-pipe, he cried: - -"Now, Wilkinson, I'm going to even up matters with you!" - -Wilkinson's face turned blue--almost as blue as the machine--and his -eyes bulged out almost like the headlights in front of it. - -"Help! Help!" implored Wilkinson, tugging at the wrists of iron that -held him. - -His call was quickly answered. And in an incredibly short space of -time, the Pinkerton men had broken the madman's grip and held him -fast. Wilkinson quickly regained his composure. Then half-wondering, -half-fearful, he riveted his eyes upon this enemy who seemed to have -dropped from the skies, while Flomerfelt came out from behind the -touring car where he had warily awaited the outcome of the sudden -onslaught. - -"So it has come to this! Why, Ilingsworth, what's the matter with you?" -ejaculated Wilkinson. "What have I done to you?" - -But before Ilingsworth could answer, the Pinkerton men had hustled him -into the Mastodon, and were holding him there. - -"Shall we surrender him, Mr. Wilkinson?" they asked. - -Wilkinson glanced at Flomerfelt, presumably, for advice. But when the -other was about to speak, Wilkinson evidently changed his mind, for -waving him aside with his hand, he strode to the side of the Mastodon -and looking Ilingsworth full in the face, after a moment's hesitation, -said: - -"Not yet; I don't want the authorities to have him yet. I may want to -talk to him first. Suppose you bring him into the house." And with -that, he turned on his heel, and, striding through the entrance to his -home, past his two footmen who were quaking in their boots, walked into -the arms of his daughter. - -"What's the matter, father?" she cried. - -Wilkinson brushed her aside, for the business of the moment was too -weighty. - -"Flomerfelt," he directed, in a low voice, "tell them to take -Ilingsworth into a reception-room--that one there, and hold him until I -send for him." - -Leslie took her father's arm and led him into the Den. With almost a -mother's anxious gaze she looked him over. - -"Are you hurt?" she inquired. "I saw--I could just make out -something--somebody attacking--it was all so quick--but I heard your -voice, and then I ran downstairs. But you're safe--safe!" and she -patted his arm affectionately. "Oh, what was the trouble?" - -Wilkinson sank down into his desk-chair. - -"Let me pull myself together first," he said. His heavy form sprawled -itself across the seat, and he panted with the unwonted fright he had -had. Now he lit a black cigar. - -"Confound it, Leslie!" he returned at length, "the man scared -me--blamed if he didn't. There was murder in his eyes." - -Leslie had not seen Ilingsworth, neither did she know that he was a -prisoner in another room. - -"Whose eyes?" she asked, eagerly. "What man?" - -Wilkinson turned his glance full upon her. - -"A man you never heard of, girlie--a man you never saw--a business man, -Giles Ilingsworth----" - -He got no further, for she was at his side now, her hand upon his arm. - -"Then he _did_ mean murder! He did, I know he did!" she exclaimed, -greatly excited. - -Wilkinson had been wiping his brow; this operation ceased with a start -and he searched her face. - -"How do you know he did, girlie?" he asked suspiciously. - -At that instant the lean and cat-like Flomerfelt entered the room and -stood beside the girl. Immediately, with a feminine aversion written on -her face, Leslie withdrew and stood in the doorway, still trembling and -afraid. - -"How do you know that he meant murder?" persisted Wilkinson. - -"I'll come back later, father, and tell you why," she said, leaving the -room, and hastening toward the staircase. - -Flomerfelt moved slowly in the direction of the door and watched her -go, then noiselessly retraced his steps, and seated himself opposite -the financier. There was no cringing in the manner of this confidential -man of Wilkinson's; on the contrary, his attitude toward his employer -was that of man to man. - -"The only decent thing about you, Peter V.," he said impudently to the -multi-millionaire, "is your daughter Leslie." - -Wilkinson's face plainly showed his annoyance, nevertheless he said: - -"Flomerfelt, it would be well for you to leave my daughter Leslie out -of this--out of everything, you understand?" - -Flomerfelt smiled. - -"Leaving her out, then, I will revise my former statement. There are -two good things about you: one is Flomerfelt, your very necessary -confidant; the other is----" he started to say "your chiefest luxury, -Miss Madeline Braine,"--but he didn't say it; for Wilkinson brought his -clenched hand down upon the desk with great force. - -"Come, get down to the business in hand! Remember that you are dealing -with Peter V. Wilkinson." He paused, and then added with a smile full -of meaning: "Despite his being a ruined bank president." - -Flomerfelt shook off his air of sinister sarcasm, squared his elbows on -the desk, and was all attention. - -"Now, then," continued Wilkinson, "what are we going to do with--with -this incubus Ilingsworth?" - -"Jug him, Peter! The man is dangerous--he's a bad one." - -Wilkinson pulled away at his black cigar. This was a problem and he -liked problems. Ilingsworth was in his power, and Wilkinson did not -intend to let his chance slip by. Just then his eyes chanced to light -on the scareheads of the extras on his desk: - -TRI-STATE TRUST COMPANY CLOSES ITS DOORS - -But the magnate felt no sensation on reading them. That very afternoon, -for that matter, he had seen thousands of them on the streets; and so, -they moved him not at all. Nevertheless, he tossed one to Flomerfelt. - -"Pretty serious predicament, eh, Flomerfelt?" he said easily. - -Coolly, Flomerfelt rose, reached over for a cigar and lighted it. - -"There are only two men in this city who can handle a situation of that -kind," he answered significantly. - -Wilkinson merely raised his eyebrows. - -"And these two," Flomerfelt continued, "have got to work together. If -they don't----" His eye caught the other's glance and held it. "If they -don't, chief, the devil take the hindmost." - -Peter V. Wilkinson laughed until he was red in the face. - -"You blamed upstart!" he burst out. "Do you think that Peter V. -Wilkinson isn't able to go it alone?" - -"I know he isn't," emphatically. - -Wilkinson sprang to his feet. - -"Why, you infernal idiot!" he shouted. "Who conceived the scheme -of transferring fifty millions of securities of my own to those -broken capitalists, Ellenbogen, Glackner & Gilroy, and of taking -over a hundred millions of wild-cat stocks! Who thought of having -the stock--the good stock, on the books, transferred to the names -of these three men, and then having them pass it over to an unknown -holder--Leslie Wilkinson! And who thought of sending these three men -to different parts of Europe, where they can't be found! Let those -who will, ask questions of me--you know what answer they'll get! Let -them ask questions of me!" he went on, swelling in the pride of -generalship. "My records show that I'm ruined. Let them ask questions -of Leslie Wilkinson--who's got the stuff, and who doesn't know she's -got it--what will they find out? Who else is there to ask? Three -inaccessible old fools who'll stay where we put 'em until it all blows -over. Who conceived that scheme? And who framed another that disposed -of thirty-five more millions? Tell me that, eh? Was it you?" - -Flomerfelt's smile was a sneer. In turn, he rose and looked his chief -full in the face, his own small, ferret eyes alight with contempt. - -"It may have taken a good man to conceive the scheme, but it took a -better man to put these things into execution, to----" - -Wilkinson laughed. - -"To do the dirty work," he interposed, contemptuously. - -Flomerfelt nodded. - -"Have it that way if you will, chief," he assented. "It's dirty work -any way you may put it. However, don't you forget one thing, it was I -that did it--and doing it, I did what no one else could do." - -For a brief interval the two men stood glaring at each other. It was -Flomerfelt who, at the last, lowered his eyes. - -"Well, have it so, Flomerfelt," Wilkinson was speaking now, "we won't -quarrel. Perhaps we do belong together--at any rate, you get pay -enough...." - -"No, not enough," Flomerfelt mused half-aloud, for his thoughts had -travelled through the closed door, into the hall without, had climbed -up the stairs and were centred on Leslie Wilkinson in the room above. - -Wilkinson resumed his seat. - -"What are we going to do with Ilingsworth," he began. "That's the first -proposition. You say to----" - -"Jug him," finished Flomerfelt. "Take the offensive. Make the first -move." - -Wilkinson snorted. - -"That's where your 'prentice hand shows up, just as I knew it would. -I'm going to let him go." - -Flomerfelt started. - -"What!" he ejaculated. - -Wilkinson grinned. Slowly he gathered together the newspapers littering -his desk and deposited them in the waste-basket. Then he turned to -Flomerfelt. - -"Now, you whippersnapper of an understudy," he paused a moment, "the -reason I'm going to let him go, _is because I'm going to lay the blame -of this whole thing on Giles Ilingsworth_. See?" - -Flomerfelt looked at the extras, at his chief, at the walls, the -hangings--now still as death they were--and at the floor. Then he rose -and paced the floor with that noiseless tread of his. Finally he -stopped, and swinging his lithe body about, once more faced his chief. - -"By George, Wilkinson, you're great!" he exclaimed. "Ilingsworth a -scapegoat! How did you ever think of it?" - -"_When_ did I think of it would be more to the purpose," returned his -chief, not without pride. "I thought of it as I think of everything--in -a flash--while you were trying to induce me to surrender him. -Somebody's got to bear the brunt of this--he's the new blood that's -wrecked us--he and his crowd, so why not he, eh? Why not?" - -Flomerfelt's thin lips widened into a diabolical grin. - -"How are you going to do it, Wilkinson?" - -His chief did not reply immediately. His hesitation made the other's -grin widen all the more. - -"I'll have to work that out, Flomerfelt," presently he said, "but I'll -do it. He might as well smart as anyone else. Besides, what will it -amount to, anyway? An investigation--censure--a few bribes--and---- The -rest of us can go to Europe and enjoy ourselves until it's blown over." - -"If it ever blows over," put in Flomerfelt. Then he stretched out his -arm and laid his long, lean fingers on the sleeve of Wilkinson's coat. - -"Peter V.," he said in a low voice, "I'll give you credit in this, as -well as in other things; but let me tell you something: while you've -been mumbling here, I've worked your idea out--sketched in the details." - -"You don't say!" cried Wilkinson. "Good boy! Well?" And he looked at -him questioningly. - -But Flomerfelt shook his head. - -"No, chief, I'll work it out myself. But I'll say this much, I've got a -hold on nearly every man in the Tri-State Trust Company, the Interstate -also. There are things to be done, things to be sworn to, and only I -know how...." He withdrew his hand. "The question is, Wilkinson," he -went on, "am I to get good pay?... This thing is more serious than you -think. It won't blow over, take my word for it. A million people in -three States are up in arms; what's more, District Attorney Murgatroyd -is up in arms, too." - -"You get paid well enough, Flomerfelt, I should think." - -"Not well enough," he declared. And again his thoughts went aloft to -the daughter of his chief. - -Wilkinson touched a button; in silence the two men waited for it to be -answered. In a somewhat irritated manner Wilkinson touched it again, -and thundered out: - -"What's become of the servants?" - -Flomerfelt leaned over in alarm. - -"The wires--the wires are cut!" he exclaimed. "The telephone is -disconnected," he went on, his face growing ashen with the fear and -mystery of it all. - -Wilkinson's excitement was evidenced by the manner in which he shook -his finger in the other's face, called him a fool, and ordered him -to go and fetch the servants that they might explain how the thing -occurred. And he ended with: "Go now, be quick about it!" - -At the door, Flomerfelt stopped. In the entrance was Leslie. - -"These wires have been tampered with!" he cried out to her. "Does -anybody in this house know how?" - -Leslie ignored the question, but instead she said: - -"Mrs. Wilkinson wishes to speak with you, Mr. Flomerfelt. You will find -her upstairs, in her boudoir." - -Flomerfelt bowed. - -"I'll go up with you at once," he told her; but Leslie shook her head. - -"No, you'd better go alone. I know about the wires. I came down -expressly to tell father about them." - -Flomerfelt reddened with annoyance, nevertheless he started to leave -the room. - -"I say," called out Wilkinson after him, "tell those Pinkertons to -drive Ilingsworth away down-town--take him to any place he wants to -go, set him loose. If he runs away, you understand, it will be all the -better for us. And if he doesn't, it will be all the worse for him." - -"I'll take care of it, Mr. Wilkinson," said Flomerfelt, adopting the -prefix that he used in the presence of a third party. "The plan is -yours; the details belong to me." - -With considerable trepidation Leslie approached her father. - -"You're not going to set that Mr. Ilingsworth free!" she begged. -"Father, don't do it! He's dangerous! I told you he had murder in his -mind--I saw it to-day." - -Little by little Wilkinson drew from her the whole story, with the -exception of her father's terrible arraignment by Giles Ilingsworth; -and that, for reasons of her own, she left out of her recital. - -"Come, come," demanded Wilkinson, shrewdly reading his daughter's face, -"you haven't told me everything! I want to know the rest." - -The girl looked away as she said falteringly: - -"The rest is nothing--really, there is nothing to tell." - -"If it's nothing, then you'd better tell it to me anyway," he -persisted. "Come, dear, what is it that you're holding back?" - -For a moment that seemed minutes to her father, Leslie hid her face -upon his shoulder, and did not speak. Finally she broke out with: - -"Only something that he told me that I know is false; but if you must -know, I'll tell you what he said...." - - * * * * * - -On the floor above, Mrs. Peter V. Wilkinson, still in her flowered-silk -kimona, received her husband's confidential man. - -"Sit there," she directed, pointing to a chair close to the sofa on -which now she was reclining, propped up by numberless bright-hued -silken pillows. - -Flomerfelt did as he was bid, not omitting to kiss the hand that she -had extended to him. - -"Now, Flomerfelt," she began, an anxious look on a face that was -usually expressionless, "I want to know just where I stand in all this. -For if there's going to be a crash, I want to know precisely what I've -got--that is, how much money?" - -Flomerfelt did not answer at once. - -"You know," he said slowly, "that it has not been the custom of Peter -V. to give money to his wife, rather, I should say, to put money in her -name. Like every other business man, he has always needed ready cash, -and----" - -"But how do I stand?" she interrupted, impatiently. "What have I got? -Tell me; I must know." - -"Well, to begin with, there are your jewels," he declared. "They are -worth thousands--perhaps hundreds of thousands." - -"And this house stands in my name, doesn't it?" she asked, brushing -away the question of a few hundred thousands. - -"It does," was his brief answer, but without enthusiasm. - -"And the house is worth at least ten million dollars, isn't it?" she -went on, with some show of satisfaction. "That's what it cost to build." - -Flomerfelt shook his head. - -"I should say that it cost much less." - -"What!" she gasped. "Why, everybody says it did. The papers...." - -Flomerfelt thought a moment. - -"I should think four million was an outside figure," he declared. "I -know Peter V. doesn't consider it worth more than that." - -"Well, four million is something, at any rate," she returned, -mollified. "I can live on that." - -Flomerfelt began to pace the room. - -"The difficulty with it, Mrs. Peter V., is that it is mortgaged. The -trust companies hold mortgages on it to the extent of five million -dollars, at least." - -Mrs. Wilkinson reached forth and drew him back into his seat. - -"Do sit down, Flomerfelt!" she cried; "and don't be a fool! What do -you mean by telling me that the property isn't worth more than four -million, and that, notwithstanding that, the trust companies have -loaned five million on it--more than its value? What trust company -would do a thing like that?" - -Flomerfelt's gaze took in the lady of the flowered-silk kimona from the -sole of her foot to the top of her head. - -"Um--such trust companies as the Interstate and Tri-State." He paused a -moment, and then added: "With such a man as Giles Ilingsworth handling -the reins----" - -"Giles Ilingsworth!" she broke in. "Who is Giles Ilingsworth? Why, I -never heard of him." - -Flomerfelt looked at her in well-feigned astonishment. - -"You never heard of Giles Ilingsworth! He was the power behind the -throne--the man who wrecked the companies--who did more, who wrecked -Peter V. Wilkinson." He made a movement to go. "There is nothing -further I can do for you, I suppose, Mrs. Peter V.----?" - -For the briefest of moments the lady gazed at him in silent -contemplation. Then motioning him again to sit beside her,--which -he did,--she drew his head down close to her lips, and patted it -affectionately. - -"Flomerfelt, you're a good friend of mine?" she said. - -Wilkinson's confidential man straightened up. - -"That depends on how good a friend you are of mine," he answered, -looking her full in the face. - -The eyes of Margaret Lane Wilkinson narrowed. - -"You do your best to see that I don't come out at the little end of the -horn, Flomerfelt--take care of my interests, even against----" - -"Even against Peter V. Wilkinson," breathed Flomerfelt. - -"Even against Peter V. Wilkinson," breathed the woman. There was a -pause, and presently she added: "On every occasion, no matter what the -question, I shall agree with you." - -"You forget to take into consideration that there's a girl named Leslie -Wilkinson, who----" - -She stopped him with a concluding gesture. - -"No, not for one moment have I forgotten her," she affirmed. "If the -worst comes to the worst, Leslie has enough to keep us both." - -Flomerfelt bent over her. - -"It's a bargain," he announced. "We'll seal it with a kiss." - -"Why, Mr. Flomerfelt, I never have kissed anybody except Peter V.," -she simpered, blushing all the while. - -"I couldn't help it," he told her on leaving, and passing through the -door, closed it gently behind him. On the second landing he stopped and -thought a while. "Not a bad scheme, that scheme of hers," he mused to -himself. "She doesn't altogether realise that if the time ever comes -when we fight Wilkinson, she and I, that we will be fighting a man -still worth a hundred million dollars. At any rate," he concluded, "my -game is first to fight for Wilkinson, and then--against him." - -Meanwhile, in her boudoir, the lady had hastened to the mirror to -contemplate her fairness. - -"He's not such a bad chap, after all, that Flomerfelt," she -acknowledged to herself. - - - - -IV - - -Peter V. Wilkinson in the Den below was having a bad quarter of an hour -with his daughter Leslie. For, truth to tell, there was no person in -the universe whose judgment he dreaded more than the judgment of this -girl who sat before him: it was his one passion to appear well in her -eyes. He had listened, with keen interest, to what she had to say, -invariably seeking her glance, at times leaning forward with unusual -intentness in order not to lose a single word. Time and time again -her words, unintentionally it is true, stung him to the quick. And -yet, he had not even gulped down his emotion. He had faced her, quiet, -calculating, with a countenance at times interested, at times amused. -Not once had he interrupted her; not once apologised. At the start he -had wondered just what he should say when she had finished, had thought -of denials, of indignation, of calling on the absent accuser for his -proofs; but as her tale unfolded, he merely continued to chew the -black, unlighted cigar that he held in his mouth. - -"Have you told me all?" he asked, glancing up at the high window with -its leaded panes. - -The girl, shamefaced, downcast, because of her doubts of her father, -flushed and nodded a "yes." - -Wilkinson smiled, and leaning across the table, looked her full in the -eyes. - -"Girlie," he told her, suavely, "you know I'm glad you told me this. I -want you to be just as frank in telling me everything else that bothers -you--especially about myself. I'm glad you told me this," he repeated, -"because, because it's true." - -The girl jumped up from her seat, and exclaimed incredulously: - -"True! Father, it can't be true!" - -He waved her back again to her chair, took a fresh cigar, lighted it, -and then said squarely: - -"It's the Gospel truth. With just one exception--an immaterial -correction that I want to make--what you have said is fact, only you've -got the wrong sow by the ear." - -"The what!" stammered the girl. - -Wilkinson waved a deprecating hand. - -"I should have said that your story is all right, but it's told about -the wrong man," he explained. - -Leslie's eyes sparkled. - -"Then you mean to say----" - -"I mean to say," interrupted her father grimly, "that the man who -concocted that very clever scheme was not myself, but quite another -person." - -"You don't mean Mr. Flomerfelt?" she put in quickly. - -Wilkinson rose, his eyes blazing with righteous indignation. - -"Who understands the methods of a thief better than a thief! Who can -tell you how to rob a bank so well as the thug who robbed it! Leslie, -the man who tried that scheme," he went on with great emphasis, "and -who, trying it, dragged us all to ruin, is the man who told you his -story in this room to-day. It is Giles Ilingsworth of the Tri-State -Trust Company." - -Leslie fell back before him in astonishment. - -"I--I can't believe it," was all she could say. - -Wilkinson laughed gently, generously. - -"I don't ask you to believe it, girlie. But let me ask you a question: -A year ago, did you ever hear my trust companies questioned? was there -any doubt of the integrity of the Interstate and Tri-State?--you -know there wasn't. Well, thirteen months ago we took on this Giles -Ilingsworth--new blood, you understand--who brought in a whole lot -of new bloods with him. We didn't understand then that he was a -get-rich-quick proposition." Wilkinson chuckled in spite of his -indignation. "We believed, rather, that he was an honest, sober-minded, -experienced chap, solid and, well, I thought I could take my ease, -thought I had a man who would run things right and let me have the fun -I've earned so hard. I let him go his gait. And what did he try to do -for us? Just what he accused me of doing this afternoon." - -Wilkinson sank into his chair and covered his face with his hands. -Leslie darted around the corner of the big desk and threw her arms -about him. - -"I knew--I knew----" she sobbed in her joy. She pressed her young, fair -face against his grizzled jowl. "My father ..." she whispered softly to -him, as though to some lover, "my father, will you believe that I never -really doubted you? It sounded so true on the instant----" - -Wilkinson drew her to his knee and kissed her. - -"I don't wonder you believed him, girlie," he said after a while. "Why -shouldn't he fool you, when he fooled your old father." - -The girl still clung to him, but Wilkinson felt the strain beginning to -tell, felt that his face was growing ashen with fatigue, and now that -it was over he needed solitude. So he placed her lightly on her feet, -and tapping her affectionately on the shoulder, said: - -"Run along now, girlie. And on your way out you might tell Jordan -that I'm not to be disturbed for fifteen minutes--not even by that -Flomerfelt, who seems to be wandering around upstairs in our private -apartments. That man gets on my nerves so that I can't think." - -After Leslie had gone, for some moments Wilkinson, in silence, puffed -away at his black cigar. Then, with considerable deliberation, he -rose, went over to the door, and locked and bolted it. Absorbed in his -thoughts, he remained standing there for a long time. When he turned -back toward the desk, a woman stood there, facing him--a woman, young, -tall, slender, with very dark hair and dark blue eyes, a woman with a -strange mixture of hope and trouble in her eyes. - -Wilkinson's face paled; he was angry through and through. Nevertheless -he struggled to appear calm. - -"Confound it, Madeline," he said tactfully, "I forgot all about you. -This blamed excitement put it all out of my head." But in the next -breath his manner changed, and he burst out with: "What the deuce is -your car doing at my door?" - -"Your car, not mine," she reminded him gently. - -He shrugged his shoulders. - -"It happens to be yours," he corrected, "for I gave it to you, didn't -I?" - -"We won't go into that," wearily she replied. - -Wilkinson looked her sternly in the eye. - -"We'll cut out the question of ownership. What's more to the point, is, -what the devil you're doing in my house? If you wanted to see me, why -didn't you wait for me to come to you? My wife is upstairs," he went on -severely, "and my daughter all around the place. They probably both -know you, even though they don't know.... You might have waited----" - -"I couldn't do that," she answered, faltering. "I--I had to see you, -and I couldn't wait. Do you suppose I would have come here--to your -home--if there hadn't been some urgency about it. I wrote; you did not -answer." - -"The Tri-State kept me on the jump," he half apologised. "I had no time -to read love letters----" - -"Love letters? Indeed!" she interjected, and then went on: "I called at -the Trust Company office to see you, sent messages, called you up on -the 'phone, but to no avail. I had to see you even at the risk of your -displeasure. Besides, no one has seen me but you." - -Wilkinson started. - -"You've been here in this room all the time--what?" - -"Behind those curtains," she informed him, emphasising her words with a -nod toward them. - -Wilkinson advanced on the woman as if he were about to strike her, for -now he knew that she had been spying upon him, had been a witness to -Flomerfelt's confidences, had listened to the colloquy between Leslie -and himself; but, making a great effort, he checked his mad impulse, -and, instead, endeavoured to make no point whatever of her presence -there. He knew Madeline Braine's comprehension of business schemes was -nil. To direct her attention to anything she had heard would be unwise. - -"You couldn't have chosen a better place," he told her genially. - -And then it was that suddenly something seemed to snap within his -brain. The terrible excitement of the past few weeks was beginning to -tell on him; a wild yearning to escape all further responsibility, to -rove free, careless, reckless, took possession of him. The woman before -him was lovely to look upon, he liked her, and why not chuck the whole -game, so he termed it, take her away with him, anywhere, to South -America, to the ends of the world? - -"Why not?" he exclaimed, touching her on the shoulder. - -The woman looked at him, surprised. - -"I say, Madeline," he went on, happily, "I've been so busy of late -that I haven't seen as much of you as I would have liked. Besides, you -were good enough to be out the last two times I looked you up. Do you -know," he was close to her now, his hot breath upon her face, "I don't -think I ever loved you quite as much as now. Suppose I take a rest from -business, and we'll take a ten-days' trip in the _Marchioness_. We'll -have a bully good time! Come, Madeline, say the word, and I'll do it." - -Madeline eluded his amorous embrace, and slipping to the side of the -desk placed upon it a small black bag. - -"One of the things, Peter V.," she said quietly, "I came for, was to -bring these back." - -Wilkinson looked at the bag inquisitively. He wondered what surprise -she had in store for him, and smilingly proceeded to open it. - -"Jewels!" he exclaimed, eyeing her for a moment in uncertainty; and the -next moment his hand brought forth a handful of rings. - -"Yes, those and the automobile," she faltered, forcing the words out, -"I want to give them back to you." - -The man broke suddenly into a good-natured, affectionate laugh. - -"You've been reading the papers, I see, and thought the old man was -down and out. You were going to put up your jewels and truck to help me -out? Well, I'll be----" He caught her hand impulsively. "Say, Madeline, -you're a good sort, and no mistake about it!" And now, snapping the -little bag together, he passed it back to her. "But you're all wrong, -my dear, I'm not strapped--not much! This is between ourselves, though, -understand. You keep your jewels, and the car, too. There's many a good -time coming to us yet. Don't you worry, now--and don't forget that I -appreciate your goodness to me. I do, indeed." - -"You don't understand me," she said, retreating under his advances. "I -brought these back to you, because I'm going to break with you. I----" - -Wilkinson looked at her dumbfounded. - -"Break with me! What? Surely you're joking. Why, no woman ever broke -with Peter V. Wilkinson voluntarily. I've broken with a score or more, -but this is a new one on me. Break with me? What for?" He leaned back -against his desk. - -There was nothing more to say; the girl had spoken in finality. She -drew herself up to her full height and looked down upon him. And as she -stood there in all her slenderness, she had never seemed more beautiful -to him. - -"I think I understand now," presently he said, white with anger. "You -really thought, like the rest, that I was a sinking ship; and you were -going to desert me, like the rats, before I sank. That's the idea, is -it? Well, you're mightily mistaken, my girl." And now he held out his -hand to her in appeal. "You don't want me to prove that I'm as sound -as a dollar, do you? For I can and will." And then he went on to tell -her that he had all his money stowed away. "I have, for a fact," he -concluded; "but this is in confidence. And now you won't leave me, will -you? Somehow, I can't let you go." - -"Peter, I thought I might be able to do this without telling you the -truth," she said, with a note almost of tenderness in her voice. "But I -see I've got to make myself plain to you. I'm going to break with you -for the reason that--that there's someone else." - -The words fell dully on his ears. - -" ... Someone else," he repeated. He looked at her long and searchingly -before continuing: - -"But how can there be anyone else? I've got all the money that there -is in little old New York! What more do you want? Who else----" And -then, without waiting for a reply: "It isn't Wilgerot? No? Then it's -Debevoise?" - -She shook her head. - -"Look here, Madeline, it isn't that Dumont Mapes?" he cried. "You -wouldn't shake me for a rake like that, would you?" - -"I can't tell you who it is," was all the girl would say. - -"But I want to know," insisted the man. "You've got to tell me." - -"If you must know, then, it is a man I love--a man I'm going to marry," -she answered softly. - -Wilkinson returned to his desk, to a fresh cigar. This was another -problem, and problems were in his line, it seemed. - -"You're going to marry somebody rich, I suppose," he said at length. - -A smile crossed her face. - -"Somebody poor," she answered. - -"Poor! Why in heaven's name should you marry somebody that's poor?" - -"Peter, I told you I loved him," she repeated, still smiling. - -Wilkinson was conscious of a curious, indefinable sensation; an emotion -that heretofore had been foreign to his nature. - -"And--and," he stammered, battling with this new sensation, "he loves -you, I suppose?" - -"I know he does," she answered. - -The millionaire puffed silently. - -"He must love you," he went on at length, in brutal tones, "to--to -forgive all this." And stretching his arms wide into a circle that -included her and himself, he added: "He's willing to forget the past?" - -The girl did not answer. But on her face was a death-like pallor. - -"Ah!" he cried, quickly noting her change of colour. "Then he doesn't -know!" - -No one better than Madeline Braine could better realise the full import -of this sneer. Advancing toward him, her limbs dragging against her -skirts, giving her the appearance of a woman struggling forward on her -knees, she caught at one corner of the desk and leaned against it, -crying: - -"Peter, I love this man. You won't--why should he know----" - -"Why shouldn't he?" was the man's cruel answer. "You love him...." - -"No, no, no!" she cried. "Don't you understand--we're going away--going -West, never to come back. If he doesn't know, all will be well...." - -"Oh, so everything is going to be lovely," grinned Peter, "until he -finds out. But when he finds out? What then?" - -For a long time she pleaded with him, while he, lolling back -comfortably in his chair, leisurely blew rings of smoke in the air. -Finally he rose, and held out his hand. - -"You're sure, Madeline, that you've made up your mind to leave me? -Sure?" - -For answer, the girl inclined her head. - -Wilkinson frowned. - -"This interview is at an end. From now on, madam, we'll deal at -arm's length." Then he added, laughing brutally: "Until you find it -desirable to come back again to me." He unlocked the door and opened it -sufficiently to permit her to pass. "Good-day." - -Without a word she passed out and down the hall. At the entrance she -found Jordan, who rose and bowed. - -"Tell my man," she ordered, pointing to the blue limousine without, -"that he need wait no longer--that I shall remain here to-night." - -Jordan's heart popped into his mouth at this unexpected declaration. -With difficulty he asked her to repeat her message, after which he -stepped out to the curb and delivered it. And it was not until the -machine started up and had gathered speed for its homeward journey that -she gave the order to the footman to open the door for her. - -With a sigh of relief the footman cheerfully complied, and bowed her -out. - -"First she said she was going to stay all night, and then she said she -wasn't," he repeated rhythmically, "and now I wonder where the devil -she's gone?" - -Madeline Braine was hardly out of hearing when Wilkinson sent -post-haste for Flomerfelt. - -"Flomerfelt," he cried, the minute that worthy entered the room, "I've -got a new job for you. Forget the Tri-State,--it's trivial, compared -with this,--and find out the name of the man Madeline Braine is going -to marry." - -"Marry!" gasped Flomerfelt. - -Wilkinson clutched him by the wrist, and continued: "And when you've -found out his name, find the man. And when you find the man, -buttonhole him...." - -"Buttonhole him!" echoed the astonished Flomerfelt. "Don't you mean -throttle him?" - -"Buttonhole him," repeated Wilkinson savagely, "and then tell him all -about the girl he loves--and me." - - * * * * * - -A few days later, alone in a bare, hall-bedroom, on the east side of -the big city, Madeline Braine sat staring, with eyes that saw not, into -the gloom without. Well might she reflect that nothing but a miracle -could save her now; well might her reason totter at the thought of what -life held for her in the future. The letter in her lap read: - - " ... There's no use in my seeing you again. I take it from your - silence that you prefer not to explain what I have learned about - you--what I have proved to myself to be a fact--the truth of your - relations with Peter V. Wilkinson. I start West to-night. - - "Yours, - - "H. T." - - - - -V - - -In Mrs. Pallet-Searing's house on Fifth Avenue was an authorised -hiding-place intended, evidently, for no more than two persons, which -was reached by a short journey through the interior flower-garden: -an undignified plunge between some half-dozen palm-tubs, and a short -ascent up a wide, circular staircase. - -In this haven--known only to the initiated,--a week later, Eliot -Beekman and Leslie Wilkinson had been sitting for some time. - -"We must have been here three hours!" the girl suddenly exclaimed -in tones of deep contrition. "Half the people must have gone. -I've deliberately cut every man on the last half of my card," she -rattled on., "thereby completely ruining my chances of ever marrying -any of them; and besides," she concluded limply, "what will Mrs. -Pallet-Searing have to say ..." - -"How did we get here anyway?" questioned the young man. - -"I led the way," confessed the girl, opining wide her eyes, and -glancing daringly into his. "Mrs. Pallet-Searing says that this place -is a trap; and, that Pallet-Searing says, that she's a terribly -designing woman. She says that he says that more--more matches have -been made on account of this moonlit spot than in any other place in -the Borough of Manhattan." - -The face of Eliot Beekman flushed, his eyes were unnaturally bright. If -only he had dared, with his strong right arm he would have drawn the -dainty head of Leslie Wilkinson down on his shoulder and would have -kissed her then and there. But he understood the girl too well--or -thought he did. - -"A match-making cosy-corner," he mused. "How many others have you -fetched here before--have preceded me?" - -Leslie laughingly rose and stood looking down upon him. - -"You're quite the first, I assure you, Mr. Beekman," she answered, -still smiling. - -"Are you--are you sure?" he faltered, becoming suddenly serious. - -"Quite sure," she answered, catching his mood. - -Beekman rose, the flush deepening on his face. His breath came fast. - -"Why, then----" he began; but the girl quickly held up her hand. - -"Now, don't be silly, don't!" she pleaded. "We've been foolish -enough as it is. People will talk, you know; they'll say that it's -the get-rich-quick strain in me that makes me do these ill-bred, -extraordinary things. But indeed it is not. My own mother, Mr. -Beekman," she went on soberly, "was a charming woman--a lady who -would never have associated with some of the people that one meets -here, even. It must be the pure deviltry in me that makes me do some -things--pure deviltry, I assure you, that's all." - -"To lead some impecunious devil to the most exclusive match-making -place in America, and then refuse to.... Pure deviltry! I should -think----" - -Leslie's brow wrinkled. - -"But Mrs. Pallet-Searing? What is she going to say?" broke in the girl. - -"Say! Say nothing at all, of course. She and Pallet-Searing must have -occupied similar cosy-corners, I suppose, years ago," he answered, with -a smile. - -"I don't quite see the application," returned Leslie, puzzled. "Very -likely they had the right: they were engaged, and afterwards married." - -"True," said Beekman, his eyes feasting on her. "And I don't understand -why history can't repeat itself right here and now. The fact is, -your hostess will be disappointed--will be annoyed, I'm sure, at our -stupidity, if we do not make the most of our opportunity." - -Leslie smiled a glorious smile upon him. - -"Mr. Beekman," she whispered softly, "do you think we've been so very -stupid?" - -[Illustration: If only he had dared, ... he would have drawn the dainty -head of Leslie Wilkinson down on his shoulder and would have kissed her -then and there] - -She touched him lightly on the arm. He tried to seize her hand, but she -drew it from him. - -"I don't believe," he said, "that we've got any right to leave -this fascinating retreat, and go down and face the crowd without -being--well, without being engaged. That is, according to my idea of -the Pallet-Searings' idea, we'd be considered a dull young couple, to -say the least." - -"But I'd be cutting myself out of many a delightful hour here!" Leslie -shook her head. - -"Not necessarily," he persisted. - -She tilted her head critically. - -"And this is all I'm to get for sitting out the best part of an evening -with a girl, when I might have been down there with the madding crowd, -having the time of my life," he added. - -Leslie moved to go. - -"We've made several false starts from here," she reminded him, "but we -must go now without any further hesitation, and by separate routes. -Good-bye," she said, and held out her hand. "Shall I see you at the -landing-place at eight o'clock sharp in the morning?" - -Beekman drew her back. - -"At what landing-place?" he demanded, uncertain of her meaning. "What's -going on?" - -The girl fell back helplessly before him. - -"Do you mean to tell me," she sighed forlornly, "that I have been here -all this time with you without telling you the very thing I brought -you here to tell?" - -"I only know," he returned, likewise forlornly, "that you won't let me -tell you the thing that for hours I've been trying to tell." - -Leslie laughed gaily. - -"It was very delightful listening, anyway," she admitted frankly. "But -about this other thing--I told everybody here, that is, everybody -that's to go, but you--and you, why I wanted you the most of all." - -Beekman caught her hand and held it, despite her dignified little -struggle. - -"You're sure of that?" - -"Quite sure," she replied, in a matter-of-fact tone. "You need a -little tan--the sail would do you good. Why, twenty of us boys and -girls,--besides some half-dozen chaperones--are going for the week-end -on the _Marchioness_. Away out to sea as far as she can stand it, and -back again. It ought to be good fun! There'll be only congenial people -aboard--the right men for the right girls." - -"But for yourself, Miss Wilkinson, who----" - -"My dear young friend," she broke in upon his question, "inasmuch as -I am hostess, I see no reason why I shouldn't have the whole ten men -most of the time, do you? I'm a pretty fair manager about these things, -you know," she went on interestedly, "and I thought for you that Jane -Gerard...." - -Beekman coughed slightly and glanced at his watch. - -"A most delightful trip," he conceded, "and I should be glad, awfully -glad to be able to take advantage of the opportunity if it were not -that I am so very busy, and----" - -Leslie was quick to detect his annoyance, but went on, still -flirtatiously: - -"Of course, I could pair off Jane Gerard with Larry Pendexter, though I -was thinking of keeping him myself...." She pursed her lips, and stood -for a moment with her eyes half-closed. Presently, she said: "I think -maybe _it could_ be arranged." And laughing, now, added: "You'll surely -come, won't you?" - -"Come!" he exclaimed, beaming with joy. "I'd come in the face of a -million-dollar retainer from John D. Rockefeller--I would, indeed!" - -A few minutes later, when she faced her hostess to bid her good-night, -that estimable lady, not altogether satisfied with Leslie's nonchalant -manner, laid her hand on her young guest's shoulder, and drew her to -one side. - -"I hope, my dear," she said insinuatingly, "that it's not going to be -Eliot Beekman. He's all right, little one--handsome, and clean, too. -But what you need is money--don't forget that--particularly now. Take -my advice--Eliot is dangerous." The lady sighed. "I've known such -men--I knew one of them once." Her eyes sought the portly form of -Pallet-Searing across the big room. "And I married Pallet-Searing. It's -been worth while." But there was a sigh in her voice, the girl thought, -as she repeated again, "worth while. Run along now! Mrs. Wilkinson has -been looking everywhere for you. Even Peter V. looked in to take you -home. They've both gone. But here comes Eliot now." And turning to -Beekman, the lady shook her finger at him. "I've been warning Leslie -against you, Eliot," she said, frankly, telling him to his face what -she had said behind his back. "I've been warning her that she must -look for money. And, oh, by the way, Eliot! Somebody's been here after -you to-night. We searched everywhere for you except in one place, and -nobody is ever allowed to look there. Colonel Morehead is the man." - -Beekman started. - -"You don't by any chance happen to know----" - -"Business," interposed Mrs. Pallet-Searing; "at least, he said it was." - -Beekman gave vent to a slight gesture of annoyance. - -"I wish I might have seen him. But he's gone, I suppose?" - -Mrs. Pallet-Searing laughed outright. - -"You surely don't regret the fact that we couldn't find you, Eliot?" - -Beekman laughed sheepishly, and shot a glance of guilt toward Leslie. - -"That isn't the point. It simply gives me an involuntary pang when -somebody looks me up on business and I miss them. I have a feeling -that, somehow, I may have lost an opportunity; and chaps like me can't -well afford to miss a man like Colonel Morehead." - -" ... How are you going to get home, child?" suddenly asked her hostess -of Leslie. "Your machine is out there, but----" - -Leslie hesitated for an instant. - -"Possibly Mr. Beekman ..." she laughed mischievously. - -Beekman looked up with mock gravity. - -"Miss Wilkinson," he said, "you've heard that old saying about the game -and the name? Come!" And he took her by the arm. - -Mrs. Pallet-Searing watched the happy young couple leave her house, and -her face took on an expression little in accord with the worldly and -cynical advice that she had given the girl a few moments before. - -From her corner of the limousine Leslie confided to Beekman: - -"Do you know that every time I do something, have something, or give -something, now that we live on Bankrupt Row, up there on the Drive, I -have to explain to everybody that it's my money, and not my father's, -as most people imagine." - -"I wish I could do something for you or your father, but I'm only an -atom of an aggregation here in New York, confound it!" - -Leslie looked at him gratefully, but went on: - -"My money must support the family. Father lost everything he had." - -"I--I didn't know that you had any money." He laughed uncomfortably. -"I'm one of these chaps who has to blurt things out, Miss Wilkinson, -and so I'll tell you just what I thought. Of course I didn't really -want Peter V. Wilkinson to fail--I was sorry when I heard about it. But -when I knew it had to happen, that it was inevitable--Oh, confound it, -I was glad, and for my own selfish reason." - -"Very kind of you to gloat over our misfortune," was her brief comment, -uttered by no means seriously. - -"I thought," went on Beekman, grimly, "that it would put us more on an -equal footing, that perhaps I would have the right to----" - -"Oh, the right, did you say? I never thought you worried much over -that," she said with truly feminine perversity. - -There was a pause. Beekman was the first to speak. - -"A terribly complicated matter, this making love to a rich girl. In the -first place----" - -"Is this an argument before a court?" she inquired, playfully. - -"Before the last court of appeals," he answered quickly. "And the gist -of it is this: How the deuce can a rich girl ever know that anybody -ever loves her?" - -"Do you suppose she cannot tell?" - -"You can't. Look at the rich women who have been fooled--either fooled, -or else satisfied to be sought for what they've got and not for what -they are! You know them by the score." - -"I think I should know if anyone loved me." - -The man shook his head. - -"There is only one way to make the perfect test," he told her, "and -that's impossible. To rid yourself of every dollar for all time, and -then see what happens." - -The girl made no answer. - -"Yes," he went on, "of all the women in the world, the rich American -girl, in my opinion, stands the least chance to be mated as she should -be. If she marries money, ten chances to one it's money she marries -and not a man; if she marries a beggar, she gets an adventurer. The -reason for this, is: the honest American men will not aspire to the -hand of a girl of wealth; and those are the very men that the rich girl -ought to marry. Unfortunately, however, they are just as independent in -their way as she is in hers. You ought to come down and be poor," he -concluded, helping her to alight, for the limousine was now in front of -the Wilkinson house. - -They crossed the pavement to the doorway. There she asked: - -"Do you know any honest, poor man, who will----" She broke off -abruptly, recognising her audacity, and then added: "Don't forget, at -eight to-morrow morning. Those not on time will get left--for at two -minutes past eight the _Marchioness_ will be out in the middle of the -Hudson. Until then,"--and she gave him her hand,--"at the landing----" - -"Not at the landing," he broke in. "I'm going to start from here. I'll -call for you just to see that Larry Pendexter keeps himself to himself, -or at least to Jane Gerard. Is it a go?" - -Leslie did not answer. Instead she flashed him a bewildering smile as -she passed through the door which Jeffries held open for her. - -Half way down the hall, Leslie ran into Roy Pallister. His face was -haggard and unduly white. She started back as she saw him. - -"Why, Roy!" she cried, unconsciously calling him by his first name; -"what has happened?" - -The boy flushed as his name fell from her lips. - -"Miss Leslie," he began stumblingly, seemingly embarrassed by the -searching gaze she rested on him, "nothing--that is, nothing that's -imminent. Your----" - -"My father!" she queried. "Has anything----" - -"They," pointing to the floor above, "seem to treat it lightly. I'm a -beast for frightening you; but I think your father feels--fears----" - -"Mr. Pallister, what are you keeping from me? What is the matter?" - -The gentle little fellow steadied himself for a moment against the -wall, and then, as she made a movement to go, he drew her back. - -"Miss Leslie, I've been wanting to tell you something--I've been -waiting for the chance. If ever in the future you need help--help of -any kind, you'll let me know," he said with lips that trembled. "I -want to be sure that you understand just what I mean. I've never done -anything for you, Miss Leslie, and----" - -"Why, yes you have; indeed you have...." she assured him, and her look -was one of genuine affection. - -The boy shook his head. - -"I want your promise that you'll come to me if----" - -Leslie did not wait to hear any more, but breaking from him, ran -swiftly up the stairs. At the first landing she turned and looked -back: he was standing very straight and very quiet by the newel post, -glancing up at her with intense admiration. In a flash she was back to -the foot of the stairs holding out her hand to him. - -"I promise, Roy," she said impulsively. "You're the best-hearted fellow -going! Good-night!" - -At the door of her step-mother's apartment, Leslie paused. A babel of -voices came from behind the closed doors--the voices of many men and -one woman. Quickly in answer to her knock and question "May I come in?" -the door was thrown back, and Flomerfelt, her father's confidential -man, stood framed in the doorway, bowing elaborately. In a glance, -despite the haze of cigar smoke, she saw that the company consisted of -her father, her father's wife, and another man. With a glad cry, she -rushed over to this other man and grasped his hand. - -"Colonel Morehead! The sight of you...." - -In an instant, Colonel Morehead's thin lips parted in a smile. He made -an old-fashioned bow and then sank back into his chair. - -"You were at Amy Pallet-Searing's to-night," the girl went on, "and you -never looked me up. Be good enough to explain yourself, sir!" - -Colonel Morehead removed his glasses and polished them upon his -handkerchief before answering: - -"I was busy looking up somebody else," he said, and Leslie saw that -the smile had left his face as he resumed his tap-tapping on the table -with his fingers; she saw, too, that her father's face was a bit white -where the skin showed. He looked tired, but his thick Van Dyke bristled -aggressively, and his eyebrows breathed the usual defiance. - -"Where were you, Leslie, that we couldn't find you anywhere?" demanded -her step-mother, irritably. "How did you get home?" - -"Very comfortably in the limousine, thank you," replied Leslie. "Mr. -Beekman was good enough----" - -Colonel Morehead leaped to his feet. - -"Not Eliot Beekman! What? He came home with you?" He started for the -door. "Why, he's the man I've been looking for. Where is he now?" - -"Undoubtedly home, by this time," said Leslie. - -The Colonel again reseated himself and drummed loudly with his fingers. - -"Hang it!" he ejaculated. "If I'd only known.... He could have been -with us here now. We need him--and badly." - -Wilkinson looked puzzled. - -"Why do we need him?" Wilkinson asked the question in a voice in which -excitement still held sway. - -"That's what I should like to know!" put in Mrs. Wilkinson, gulping -down, not without audible satisfaction, her customary night-cap. - -Leslie blushed as she added that the question likewise was of interest -to her. - -"We're disgraced, that's all there is to it!" snapped the mistress -of the house, her night-cap, even at this early stage, lending her -asperity. "And I the most of all! I don't see how this Beekman can help -us out?" - -"I don't myself," admitted her husband. "However, nothing can happen so -long as Colonel Morehead sticks to us--nothing." - -"I have no intention of deserting you, don't be alarmed," declared -Colonel Morehead. "But for all that, I want this man Beekman--I -need him." And so saying he lifted from the small table a document -consisting of several sheets of carbon-copy. - -"Miss Wilkinson," he said gravely, handing it to her. "No--there's -nothing in it to startle you, only you should know, I think, we all -ought to understand.... If you'll read this, you'll know what happened -to your father this afternoon." - -Puzzled at first, the girl slowly read the flimsy document as she -stood there in the middle of the room. - -"Oh!" she wailed, as its meaning dawned upon her. "They had no right to -do this--no right whatever!" - -"You're sure you understand it?" interrogated the Colonel. - -The girl bowed her head gravely. Then, going over to her -father,--wholly unconscious of a curious look on Flomerfelt's -face,--she threw her arms about his neck. - -"Father, dear father," she whispered to him, "don't mind. We'll win -out." - -Her father submitted goodnaturedly but wearily to her embrace. He -stretched his arms and yawned. - -"I'm dog tired," he said, rising. "I'm going to bed. You'll stay all -night, Morehead?" - -"Not a bit of it," responded the Colonel. "You don't catch me deserting -my own hard bed--not much! I'll go home." He shook hands with Mrs. -Peter V. Wilkinson, and pressed a button. - -"How about you, Flomerfelt? It's rather late ..." said Peter V. - -"Don't care if I do," was the latter's answer. And on the servant's -appearing, Peter V. ordered him to show Mr. Flomerfelt to one of the -guest rooms, concluding with: "Show him to the one with the painted -nymphs skylarking on the walls." Then he placed his arm around his -daughter, and together they followed Colonel Morehead downstairs to the -door, where they bade him good-night. - -Mrs. Wilkinson and Flomerfelt listened to the sound of retreating -footsteps. - -"He'll not be coming back," she said, "and I want to talk to you." And -pointing to the document that Leslie had been shown, she asked: "What -does all this signify?" - -"What it signifies," he answered, picking up the paper, "may depend on -you." - -The woman looked puzzled. - -"How?" - -Flomerfelt's eyes narrowed. Then, with a lithe and dexterous movement -of his long arms, he shot his cuffs--hitherto out of sight--into view; -extending them, with a jerk, below his coat-sleeves, so that they -covered his lean wrists to the extent of three-quarters of an inch, a -distance which he measured with mathematical certainty, apparently, for -his nice adjustment of them was followed critically by his glance. He -eyed and adjusted one cuff until it satisfied him, and then eyed and -adjusted the other; finally he rubbed his hands together, and said: - -"One of the richest women in the world--rich in her own right. How does -that sound to you?" - -Mrs. Peter V. stared at him. - -"Who is?" she inquired. - -"It's a possibility that affects a woman in this house." - -"Leslie?" - -He shook his head. - -"I was thinking of you." - -"I? I'm not rich. I've been a fool!" she cried. "I should have made him -settle something on me--half, at any rate. Now it's all gone; he's lost -everything; I might as well have had half of it--as well that, as to -throw it in the gutter as he did." - -Wilkinson's confidential man seated himself. - -"Unquestionably you need me," he said frankly, and then stopped. -Hitherto he had kept his own counsel. And yet, he reflected, there is a -wisdom of disclosure just as there is a wisdom of suppression. Some new -impulse seized him; his voice sank into a whisper. "There is a chance -for us, Mrs. Peter V., to be rich, if we work together, unusually rich." - -"But how?" she whispered back, excitedly. - -Flomerfelt smiled inscrutably, and answered: - -"Out of the wreck, there's a chance----" - -"A good chance?" she interrupted eagerly. - -"There's only one man who can prevent it," he went on. - -"Peter V.----?" - -A nod was her answer. - -Immediately then she went back to first principles. - -"What is going to happen to him? Will they put him in jail?" - -Wilkinson's confidential man smiled. - -"I've often wondered," he mused, "whether it would be good or bad for -us if they jailed him. A man in prison is a man very much out of the -way. But in this case he would be too much out of the way. Put him in -jail and you discourage his defence--you encourage the public, his -depositors. They'll do what we should do: infest the wreck and gobble -up what is ours by right. No, so long as Peter Wilkinson lives, we must -fight his battle for him--pull him through, keep him standing up, only -to be able to knock him down later. That, so long as he lives, must be -our policy. So long as he lives," he repeated. - -"Suppose," she began, and then hazarded: "In case of his death, what -would my rights be?" - -"In case he dies----" suddenly he stopped. That was a possibility he -had not foreseen. He had seen much strife ahead: first, a tremendous -fight for Wilkinson, then a tremendous campaign against him. But what -if the man should break down, die? There was food for thought, reasoned -Flomerfelt. - -"He might die," he resumed, holding her glance as he went on, "for -everything must be considered. Disgrace wouldn't kill him, but his -liver, or,----" he jerked his thumb over his shoulder,--"there might be -violence--conspiracies. There have been rumours that the trust company -depositors are wild, especially the poor ones--socialists, we'll say. -So, he might die--be killed. Who knows?" - -Flomerfelt rose and looked down upon her long and earnestly. - -"But we'll cross that bridge when we come to it, Mrs. Peter V. -Good-night, my dear lady!" And bowing unusually low to her, he left the -room. - - - - -VI - - -It was three o'clock in the morning when Eliot Beekman reached his club -in Forty-fourth Street. - -"There's a telegram for you, Mr. Beekman," called out a sleepy employe, -from the office. "It was left here by your clerk to-night." - -In his room Beekman switched on the light and read: - - ELIOT BEEKMAN, ESQ., - 32 Nassau St., N. Y. - - Meet us at Hotel Iroquois, Buffalo, to-morrow six P. M. Important - letter follows. Wire answer. Do not fail. - - BANK LE BOEUF, - _J. K. W., Cashier_. - -"The Bank Le Boeuf of Buffalo! Sounds good; I hope it is good," mused -Beekman. "If so, another big client added to my growing list." - -Without hesitation he wrote an answering telegram, stating that he -would be at the Hotel Iroquois at 6 P. M. the following night, took it -downstairs, and left it in the office with instructions to send it as -soon as possible. - -And it was not until fifteen minutes later, in the midst of his -speculations as to the nature of this business sent to him by the Bank -Le Boeuf, that the thought of Leslie's yachting-party came to him. - -"Confound it!" he muttered to himself. "I clean forgot all about it. -What am I going to do?" - -Yet Beekman was so consistent that he recognised at once that there -was nothing to do save what he had done. He had built up his practice -without pull, influence or money; and he had done it by religiously -conserving the interests of his clients. He knew, therefore, that -he must obey this summons. So, assuring himself that Leslie would -understand it when he told her in the morning, he removed his evening -dress, swathed himself in a dressing--gown, stepped into his library -and began to work. An unfinished job lay upon his table--a job that, he -knew, would take past dawn to finish, and early in the evening he had -determined not to go to bed. So he started in. - -There was a neat supply of law books in his rooms--a good working -library, an average lawyer would call it. And from the hour that he -donned his dressing--gown, Beekman nosed among these tan-coloured -volumes, taking down one from its shelf, scanning the headnotes of -a given case, reading the opinion, slapping the book together and -replacing it. A hundred times, at least, he did this. Finally, weary of -his search, and hopelessly downcast, for so far his search had been in -vain, he found on the highest shelf a slender volume and opened it. And -now, as he started to read, his eye brightened and he quickly seized -pen and paper. - -"Eureka!" he exclaimed. "On all fours--just in point. By George, -this--this wins the trick!" - -Half an hour was spent in jotting down the salient portions of the -opinion of the Court of Appeals. Then, restoring the book to its -accustomed place, he folded up his memorandum neatly and thrust it -into a heavy brown envelope, labelled: Turner vs. Cooper. And now with -considerable complacency he leaned back, saying to himself: - -"I thought sure I was licked. But I've got 'em! I'll bet dollars to -doughnuts that Jameson & Bowers never even heard of that decision! -Now," he stretched out his arms, "I'm ready for Leslie Wilkinson and -the _Marchioness_--or, no," he corrected himself, "I mean I'm ready for -the Empire State Express." - -A moment more and he had turned on the faucet, filled the tub to the -brim, and had plunged in--holding his head under the cold water for -half a minute at a time. Completely refreshed, he dressed carefully, -ascertained from the appearance of the heavens that it was likely to be -clear, then quietly left his room and started down the stairs and left -the club. At the Grand Central Station he checked his grip. He had lots -of time, even for the preliminary little journey that he proposed to -take. - -After getting some breakfast he strolled back to the West Side and -sauntered up Sixth Avenue. The stores were all closed. One, however, -as Beekman passed, opened up. From the door its proprietor, a little -wizened Jew, nodded sleepily to Beekman. Returning the nod, the latter -looked again at the store, and retracing his steps, entered. - -"Ready for business?" inquired the lawyer. - -The proprietor nodded. - -"Always," he replied. - -"This is a gun store?" queried Beekman. - -The Jew yawned. - -"Loogs like id," he conceded. "Did you vant to buy a gun?" - -"I want ten cents' worth of shot," his customer replied, pointing out -the size he wanted; and, after the storekeeper had weighed out the -quantity and it had been dropped into his pockets, he started on his -way rejoicing, making a bee line for Wilkinson's. It was getting-up -time now, but not for people on the Drive. There silence reigned -supreme. - -But Beekman felt very wide awake. His conversation with Leslie the -night before in the Pallet-Searing cosy-corner, and his successful -night's work had gone to his head like wine. And it was this condition -that led him to purchase a handful of shot; and now, regardless of the -fact that he was operating on the residence that had cost ten million -dollars, more or less, and, in fact, regardless of consequences, he -took his station in the middle of the Drive and selecting half a dozen -missiles from his pocket, he flung them lightly through the air, aiming -for a wide window-pane on the third story of the house. Three times he -did this. The fourth time he was stopped by a voice calling out: - -"Hi, there!" - -Turning quickly Beekman found himself confronted with the majesty of -the law. - -"What're you trying to do?" demanded the officer. "Isn't it a bit early -in the morning, or a bit late in the evening, to be out on a drunk? -What's doin', anyway?" - -Beekman grinned, desisting, nevertheless. - -"A bit of old-time romance," he explained; "trying to wake her up, -that's all." - -"Is her name Norah?" demanded the blue-coat, threateningly. - -Beekman glanced aloft; then he plucked the officer by the sleeve. - -"Look for yourself," he rejoined, "and see.... Is that Norah up -there?" - -While the officer scanned the housetop, Beekman gazed innocently out -over the Hudson. - -"It is--not," he assented joyfully. "And so long as it is not, I have -nought to say, except," the policeman's voice trailed off into a -whisper, "except, sir, that the lady is waving to you. Look now, and -see." - -Beekman looked. There she was, indeed. - -"I've been up an hour!" she cried. "Wait until I come down." - -In the music-room, she greeted him with: - -"Have you had your breakfast?" - -"Yes. I came to tell you...." - -"Then you got my telegram all right?" - -Beekman shook his head. - -"You're not the Bank Le Boeuf of Buffalo?" - -"I didn't phone you," she went on, ignoring his question, "because I -couldn't, don't you know. But I sent a wire so you'd get it the first -thing this morning--at your club." - -"Crowd there too sleepy to get it to me, I suppose," he said, puzzled. -"What was in it?" But without waiting for an answer, he went on: "I -came to tell you about my telegram," and with that he passed it over -to her. "Business before pleasure," he remarked tritely, and yet -in a manner that he knew she would understand. "I can't go on the -_Marchioness_, you see." - -"The _Marchioness_," she responded, "is not going after all. That's -why I wired you. But I'm glad you came, because, somehow, I wanted you -to know--before it appeared in the papers----" She paused, and then -added, with much feeling: "The Grand Jury has indicted my father--late -yesterday afternoon. As yet no one knows it; but everybody will know it -by nine o'clock this morning. It may be in the papers now, though they -tried to keep it out. It's a terrible thing--a thing like that! I can't -see how, or why, they indicted him! Can you?" - -Beekman looked his sympathy. Presently he asked: - -"Do you mind my asking just what they charge him with?" - - - - -VII - - -The Empire State Express had not travelled many miles when Eliot -Beekman's attention was directed to a strange-looking man who sat -across the aisle, facing him. From time to time the man's face flushed -and gave little nervous starts and twitches, and, every now and then, -he mumbled to himself. At first Beekman figured out that the man was -recovering from an unaccustomed debauch; but afterwards he changed his -mind: he decided that he was crazy. - -"Glad to get away from New York," confided the stranger, breaking in on -Beekman's meditations, and tapping him on the knee. "The farther away I -get the better I like it." - -Beekman somewhat resented this interference with his comfortable -somnolence, but he straightened up and smiled and answered: - -"For my part New York's home to me. I feel sick, somehow, when I'm away -from it." - -The man swung about and glanced nervously at the changing landscape, -and then suddenly turned back again and exhibited a pocket volume with -flexible covers. - -"Dante's Inferno," he declared, pointing to the book. "Ever delve -into it? I've just recently been through a little inferno of my own," -he went on. "I brought this with me, because I've got to keep before -my mind the fact that some people have gone through more than I have. -At least, so it seems to me. At the same time, I don't know that I'm -ready to change places with any of the chaps in here." He tapped the -book. "Neat little volume," he commented, rattling on nervously and -without apparently keeping much track of what he was saying. "See the -frontispiece," he said, leaning over towards Beekman. "It's Dante -himself. I wonder why he always wears that headgear? Never see him -without it! Always reminds me of a little verse on how to tell the -names of busts." - -"'I recognise Dante because he's tab-eared.' Tab-eared, you know," he -went on, "is his peculiar sort of headgear. All sculptors give it to -him." He resumed in sing-song fashion: - - "'I recognise Dante, because he's tab-eared, - And Virgil I know by his wreath, - Old Homer I tell by his rough, shaggy beard, - And the rest--_by the names underneath_.'" - -Beekman laughed aloud. - -"Good! Mighty good!" he cried. "Especially 'and the rest by the names -underneath.' A flash of genius that." - -The man turned over several pages in his book and began to read -steadily, rumpling his hair, from time to time, as he did so. Once he -looked up, only to find Beekman staring hard at the top of his head. - -"Looking at my Heidelberg scar?" he asked hastily, pulling a lock of -hair over it. "It was an ugly one, I can tell you, and almost did for -me, too. Sometimes, you know I've thought it dented me a little in the -skull." He pushed back the hair, again exhibiting the long, deep cut. -"It throbs there once in a while--it's throbbing now." - -His conversation became incoherent, and from it Beekman gathered only -snatches. - -"I don't know how to go about it," he continued, as though talking to -himself. "It's the taxes chiefly. If I can get rid of the tax sales, -that farm is just the thing for me. Old farm," he explained, looking up -at Beekman, "somewhere in Erie County. Thought I'd take a look at it. -Been in the family for years, but neglected it; now I want to live on -it, bury myself, get away from New York, from the Inferno back to Eden, -don't you know." - -He laughed a quick, nervous laugh, and jerked himself away once more, -his face twitching while he mumbled. - -"A man labouring under some strange and unusual excitement," thought -Beekman, "and yet...." - -The stranger was on his feet now, and going down the aisle paused -before a chair that was occupied by a tired mother and her -two-and-a-half-year-old child. Weary, mortified, her temper gone, the -woman was trying to appease the crying babe. - -Taking up the child in his arms, the stranger sat it on his knee, let -it play with his watch, rattled his keys, adopted a hundred lively -pranks for the benefit of the child; and the infant, soothed and -cheered by this new and agreeable personality, sank at last into a -peaceful sleep. - -"Nothing like a child," he said to Beekman, "to make the future seem -worth while. Talk about Eden--there's no Eden, no happiness, without -them. I love children, this one, all of them." - -Beekman once more lapsed into drowsiness, his thoughts, in a confused -way, resting on the eccentric character beside him. When he awoke the -train was pulling into Buffalo. Touching the stranger by the arm, as -he was preparing to alight, he quoted: "'And the rest by the names -underneath.'" And added, as he raised his hat: "Thanks. I'll not forget -that." - -Nor did he soon forget it. For indeed through many months to come he -carried with him the memory of that nervous, haunted, tired face with -the restless, hopeless eyes, the memory of this unknown man with the -scar deep and long and wide upon his forehead--the scar from Heidelberg. - - * * * * * - -At ten o'clock that morning Peter V. Wilkinson was closeted with -Colonel Morehead in Colonel Morehead's office at 120 Broadway. - -"Glad you left that Flomerfelt proposition downstairs, Peter," said -Morehead, "because, for one thing, I don't like him." - -"Well, I do," retorted Wilkinson positively. "As a matter of fact, I -like him because I can't get along without him. He's a wonder!" he went -on enthusiastically. "Any time you want a thing put through, and don't -care how it's done, you hire my man Flomerfelt. In this whole crisis, -Flomerfelt, in my opinion, is worth his weight in gold. Why, the man -has a hold on nearly everybody that I know." - -"Well, he hasn't one on me," returned the lawyer. - -"He has on me, then," said his client, "but I don't mind. He gets good -pay from me; and he can make any given man do almost anything he wants -him to do--that's Flomerfelt. I never stop thanking my good fortune -that I've got him on my side. He's the kingpin in this mix-up, let me -tell you, Morehead." - -The Colonel laughed. - -"I was inclined to think, Peter, that I might be some pumpkins myself," -he suggested. "I may be, before we're through." - -"No use of talking," protested his client, "Flomerfelt can do things -that you can't do, and never thought of doing. If I get out of this -scrape, it will be Flomerfelt's doing...." - -The lawyer leaned back in his revolving chair. He was a lean personage, -all bone and gristle, with a lean nose and shrewd, sharp eyes. - -"Peter," he said, "a bunch of indictments for perjury, larceny and -forgery are dangerous things." He looked at his watch. "Confound it!" -he went on. "Why the dickens couldn't the Court agree to take our plea -at ten this morning. By eleven everybody in town will know about it, -everybody that can will be there. If the papers hadn't got on to it -early this morning we'd have had no trouble. We could have slipped in -and out--done the trick, and nobody the wiser. But now.... By the way," -he added, "that reminds me--I want that man Beekman over here. I'll -call him up." - -Eliot Beekman's office said he was out--said he was not in New -York--that he'd left that morning on the Empire State Express for -Buffalo. - -"Well, where is he in Buffalo?" asked Morehead. - -They told him--at the Iroquois Hotel. - -"Tell him that Colonel Morehead called him up," said the Colonel; "and -that I want to see him the minute he returns." - -Wilkinson nervously tapped his foot upon the floor. - -"I can't see what you want of Beekman?" he said. - -Morehead's eyes narrowed. - -"I want him to defend you, if these indictments come to trial, as -probably they shall." - -"What! That young fellow who calls at my house to see Leslie!" returned -Wilkinson. "Why, we want the highest-priced counsel we can get. I want -you, and Patrick Durand, but not one of the submerged like Beekman." - -"I want to tell you that Beekman isn't one of the submerged, as you -say. He's got a practice here that yields him at least seventy-five -hundred a year, which means that he's a wonderful man, because he's -only thirty, or a little under, with no political pull. He makes his -living out of the law pure and simple, not out of Wall Street, or real -estate deals, or the criminal classes, either." - -"Well, then, if he's not a criminal lawyer, we certainly do not want -him," protested the Colonel's rich client. - -"I like Beekman," proceeded the Colonel, ignoring the comment, -"because, in a measure, he reminds me of myself, though he has -something that I never had. Like me, he's a free lance. He never hooked -up in partnership with anybody. When he tries a case he does it as I -do--not with his associate holding his hand on one side and a couple of -assistants holding his hand on the other--but alone with a couple of -scraps of paper, and the rest of his case in his head. I like Beekman -first-rate." He hitched his chair close to Wilkinson's. "But that isn't -the point. The gist of the whole thing is this: There's one thing that -Beekman can do better than any other lawyer in New York; one thing that -he can do that most lawyers can't do at all. He is able to impress his -jury with his own absolute belief in his client's cause. He's sincere, -and the jury know it. And that's three-quarters of the battle. Oh, -we'll all be there, Peter, on the show-down, but you can imagine me -trying to impress a jury with my belief in my client's honesty, can't -you? Oh, yes, my cleverness is conceded; they'd all laugh, and say, -'Strike one for the Colonel,' and all that sort of thing. But ten -chances to one they'd find the other way. I wish I had that strange -thing that Beekman has got! All my life I've wanted it." - -Wilkinson fidgeted about. He didn't see this as the Colonel did. -Nevertheless he answered: - -"What you say goes, Morehead!" - -The Colonel jerked his head and became the least bit more confidential. - -"But the trick is to be sure that Beekman actually does believe in you. -But, Peter, we're fortunate in one respect--I would have retained him -anyway--but this development is certainly fortuitous: He wants to marry -your daughter Leslie." - -Wilkinson's face reddened; his Van Dyke bristled with opposition. - -"I'd like to see him get the chance!" he cried. "Leslie has got to -marry well, and she's just the hard-headed little girl who'll do it, -too. Beekman marry Leslie! Not if I know it!" - -The lawyer sank back wearily. - -"The question of who marries your daughter, Wilkinson, is no concern -of mine. That Beekman wants to marry her, is enough for me. Let him -want to--let him see her all he wants to--you can fix the ultimate -proceedings in your own way. But for the present, somebody has got to -build up in Beekman a great and immovable faith in you. He must be -educated up to the belief that you are as straight as a string. Let his -teacher be the girl; she'll make the best one, for she believes in you -herself." - -Wilkinson pressed his hand against his face. - -"And she's always got to believe in me," he groaned. "We must see to -that." - -The Colonel gripped his arm. - -"And whatever happens, Peter," he concluded, "I don't want Beekman ever -to meet this man Giles Ilingsworth, for he's another of your honest -chaps; and if Beekman before your trial should hear from the lips of -Giles Ilingsworth his own story of the case, he's going to believe -it. Do you understand?" The lawyer grinned, adding: "For I believe it -myself." - -Fifteen minutes later a Mastodon turned into Franklin Street from -Broadway and rolled easily down the hill toward the Criminal Courts -Building, next door to the Tombs. In the car were four men: Peter V. -Wilkinson, Colonel Morehead, his counsel; Roy Pallister, Wilkinson's -private secretary, and Wilkinson's chauffeur. - -"Great guns!" cried Wilkinson when they were half way down the street; -"look at the crowds! Why, everybody in New York is here!" - -"I heard on the street this morning," said Morehead, who rather enjoyed -his client's discomfiture, "that the disgruntled depositors had -deserted the front doors of the Interstate and the Tri-State, and had -formed here, waiting to see you----" - -Morehead got no further, for at that moment the car abruptly stopped, -as if on the brink of a precipice. A dirty fist was thrust into the -car, and an extra shoved into their faces. - - WILKINSON WARNED! - - RUMOURS RIFE THAT THE CROWD AT CRIMINAL COURT WILL TRY TO KILL---- - -"Stop the car! Stop the car!" called out Wilkinson frantically. "Look -at that murderous gang down there! Go back--go back! Turn the other -way--turn the car around, do you hear?" - -Morehead held up his hand. - -"It's all right, Francois. Go ahead!" he commanded. "Go right ahead and -nobody will notice us. We'll go in by the rear entrance; most of the -crowd are in front. There are four automobiles there already; they've -probably mistaken others for us. The crowd don't know you, Wilkinson, -from Adam--wouldn't know you from your pictures in the papers. Besides, -there's no danger; there never is, with a New York crowd. Drive on!" - -The chauffeur obeyed him. - -Now they were on the outskirts of the crowd, and had begun slowly to -eat their way through it when, all of a sudden, somebody set up a cry -of "Wilkinson!" But quick as a flash, Morehead leaned over the side of -the car and shouted to the nearest of the mob: - -"Has Wilkinson arrived?" - -The answer was "No!" And at once word passed quickly that the car did -not contain Wilkinson, but somebody else. Nevertheless, to Wilkinson's -fearful eye there was a movement here, there, everywhere, as if the -crowd, or some few people in it, had realised the truth. - -Presently Morehead caught sight of two officers standing on the steps. -To these the Colonel waved an unseen signal, while on the sidewalk -Wilkinson's faithful Pinkertons waited, alert, quiet, their hands in -their coat pockets. - -And so it happened that the Mastodon managed to draw up at the curb -before a spacious door, the two officers moving out to meet it, the -Pinkertons flanking it on the other side. - -"All we have to do, you see," said Colonel Morehead, "is to make a dash -behind these uniforms, and a second more and we're inside. The crowd -will be fooled." - -But the crowd was not fooled. For suddenly there rose upon the air a -mighty cry as if from a thousand throats: - -"Wilkinson! Wilkinson! He's here! He's here! This way! This way! -There's Wilkinson!" A moment's silence, and then more cries of: "Thief! -Forger! Perjurer! My money--give me back my money!... Arg-gh -Wilkinson ...!" - -"Now, Wilkinson," whispered the Colonel, "keep a stiff upper lip; don't -turn a hair. Just get out of the car and walk right through. I know -crowds--nothing will happen--nothing. Now...." - -Colonel Morehead was a man whose orders were generally obeyed. -Consequently, in a situation like this, his reassuring words carried -great weight, and the men with him in the car, immediately following -his example, jumped to their feet. For an instant they stood, exposed -to merciless hootings, preparing to alight; and in that very instant -there suddenly rang out a revolver shot, and a puff of smoke floated -over the densest part of the crowd, while, almost simultaneously, one -of the four men in the car, clutching first at the air and then at -his throat, plunged head foremost into the street below. Just how it -happened the police never knew, but all remembered hearing a voice cry -out: "Wilkinson!" - -For a moment that seemed hours, the trained Pinkertons failed to rise -to the emergency, but then fairly leaping into the machine and dragging -the men across the sidewalk, they thrust them into the safety within -the hall and closed the doors on them. Out again and into the street -dashed the Pinkertons with the two uniformed officers, and there they -picked up the body which was lying hideously huddled between the curb -and the machine. As for Francois the chauffeur, he had fled. - -"Get back there! Get back there!" cried the officers. "If you don't, -we'll pull our clubs. Get back! Will you get back ...!" - -But the frenzied crowd would not budge. So the officers, with their -backs to the machine, plied their clubs viciously about them, but even -then the mob persisted. - -"It served him right! He got what was coming to him!" came from all -sides. - -"Get back!" cried the officers, standing guard over the body on the -sidewalk. Gently one of them felt of the dead man, opening his clothing -at the neck, felt of his heart. Now the officers shook their heads. -A man came running through the crowd. "I'm a doctor," he told them; -"anything I can do?" He, too, applied the tests. Presently he finished -and rose to his feet, and announced: - -"He's dead--dead as a door nail." - -The policemen carried the body into the huge building and laid it down -upon the stones. - -"Great heavens! It's little Pallister." - -The exclamation fell from the lips of Peter V. Wilkinson as he -clutched at Colonel Morehead for support. A moment later, wiping the -perspiration from his face, he added: - -"And they meant that for me!" - - - - -VIII - - -Despite the efforts of his counsel to pacify him, it was fully half -an hour before Peter V. Wilkinson recovered from his fright. Over and -over again he wailed in the lawyer's ears, "But they tried to do it, -Morehead. They tried to kill me, didn't they?" And when, at last, the -replies to this question were not forthcoming, he asked, between little -fits of shivering, what plans had been made to get him away, since -the police would probably be powerless to drive away the crowd which -every moment, he was positive, was increasing because of the excitement -and their knowledge now that he was in the building. In a measure, -however, he was soon reassured. For after a loud rap on the railing, -the Court came in, and glancing commiseratingly at Colonel Morehead, as -if apologising for an act of violence, he shot out a stern forefinger -towards the officers and cried out in a sonorous tone: - -"Clear the court-room at once! Next thing you know we'll have violence -here." - -This proceeding took some little time, for the court-room was crowded. -When at last it was cleared the Court, bowing respectfully to Colonel -Morehead, announced: - -"If you're ready, Colonel Morehead, we'll have the indictments read." - -The Colonel made a grimace. - -"We've been reading them all night, your Honour; I know them all by -heart; I think we can waive having them read." - -"Put the waiver on the record," said the Assistant District Attorney to -the stenographer. He nodded toward the Court. "The District Attorney is -most particular about this case." - -"How do you plead to the first, Colonel?" asked the Court. - -"The larceny indictment?" - -"Yes." - -"Not guilty." - -"Forgery--eight counts there, Colonel." - -"Not guilty." - -"Perjury--these banking reports--how about it?" - -"Not guilty," repeated Morehead laconically. "And now, your Honour," he -went on, adopting a casual tone, "about bail?" - -The Court inclined his head toward the Assistant District Attorney. - -"Any suggestions?" - -"I move, your Honour," said the assistant, "that bail in these -cases,--under the new rule laid down in the Mitchell case,--be fixed at -two hundred and fifty thousand dollars on each charge." - -Colonel Morehead stiffened as with a sudden shock. - -"Your Honour," he protested, "this is preposterous! Every defendant is -entitled to have bail fixed at a reasonable sum." - -"Then," went on the assistant with asperity, "if Colonel Morehead makes -a fuss about it, I move, your Honour, to hold this defendant in the -Tombs, and without bail, if your Honour please. It is, in this case, -discretionary with your Honour. People vs. Mitchell, 193 New York." - -His Honour nodded impartially to Colonel Morehead and the Assistant -District Attorney. - -For a while he gazed into space; finally he said: - -"Colonel Morehead, I think that I must fix the bail suggested, if I fix -any bail at all." - -"This is barbarous, prohibitive, unconstitutional," groaned Morehead. -"Why, your Honour, it is a notorious fact that my client is a broken -man, financially. Where can he get three-quarters of a million bail?" - -The Court's eyes sought the rear wall. He had often dined with -Wilkinson, had been entertained at his house, but this made no -difference to the Court. - -"I think, Colonel," he repeated, this time with a shade more emphasis, -"that I must fix the bail suggested, if I am to fix any bail at all." - -Wilkinson, the present calamity fresh upon him, was trembling; and -pressing against Colonel Morehead, whispered loudly in his ear: - -"Let it go at three-quarters of a million, Colonel; we can raise that -easy enough." - -The Colonel turned white with rage. He looked at the Assistant District -Attorney to see if that gentleman had heard the remark. Then, satisfied -that he had not, he turned swiftly and ostentatiously upon his client, -protesting: - -"Mr. Wilkinson, I am managing this case, not you. Be good enough to -let me manage it alone." Before proceeding, he wiped his glasses and -blinked his eyes. "Your Honour," he said with considerable pathos in -his tone, "to fix this bail means that my client must be incarcerated -in the Tombs. Who among all his friends will come forward to-day and -furnish three-quarters of a million dollars bail? Who, indeed?" He -shook his head. "Blessed are they that hath, for to them shall be -given. But to him that hath not, shall be taken away, even that he -hath. Does your Honour still persist?" - -"Colonel Morehead," said the Court, "I shall cheerfully hold this man -without bail at all, if you still persist." - -Morehead bowed. - -"We shall try ..." and his voice rang with the wail of a funeral bell, -"we shall try to get bail, your Honour." - -"You can't furnish it now?" asked the Court. - -"You might as well ask for the moon," returned Wilkinson's counsel, -looking the picture of grim despair. - -The Court's eyelids never fluttered as he ordered: - -"Take the prisoner to the Tombs in default of bail." - -"I'll go with you, Wilkinson," declared Morehead, with a peculiar smile. - -As they crossed the Bridge of Sighs, they could hear the cries of the -crowd below--a crowd frenzied both by the horror of the crime and the -escape of Wilkinson. - -"Don't be frightened, Wilkinson, this is all right," said Morehead -soothingly. "You're going to stay in the Tombs until I get you bail." - -"I can put it up in half an hour, you fool!" insisted Wilkinson. - -"But you won't," returned his counsel. "Not if I know it. If you put up -bail in half an hour, they'll find out where it comes from; and if they -find that out, they'll find out all the rest." - -Wilkinson dropped his eyes. - -"Perhaps you're right, Colonel," he conceded. "Do with me as you will." - -"Yes, you must do as I say, or I'll drop this case," warned the -Colonel. "And while you're in here, you're not to talk--not a word to -anyone--do you understand me?" - -"But how long will I be in here? They won't lock me up, will they?" - -"Of course they will." - -"Not behind the bars--not in a cell?" - -Morehead nodded. - -"I won't stand for it!" blustered the millionaire. - -Morehead caught him by the arm and looked him in the eye. - -"You've got to do as I say to the letter, or it means ruin, ruin, do -you understand? I know what I'm talking about. You go into a cell -without a murmur. The newspapers--all New York will talk about it; -everybody will know that Colonel Morehead is gnashing his teeth at the -injustice shown you. Morehead is taking an appeal, they will say; but -as for you, you'll keep quiet in your cage until I let you out. It -won't be long; wait and see." - -They passed into the Tombs. A deputy warden nodded to Wilkinson. - -"That was a narrow escape you had, Mr. Wilkinson," he said, referring -to the tragedy of an hour or so before. - -"I--I should think so," faltered Wilkinson, the cold sweat running down -his face. "Poor Pallister! Have they got the murderer?" - -"No," said the warden, "and I doubt if they'll ever get him, either. -Still, you never can tell...." - -"If they should find out, you'll let me know at once, won't you?" urged -Wilkinson. - -The warden promised. The lawyer and his client parted: Colonel Morehead -went his way; Wilkinson was shown into a cell. - -At one o'clock that day, one of the officials unlocked the door of his -cell and took him down into a counsel room. Sitting there at a table -was a woman with her face in her hands. - -"Oh, father, I couldn't stay away!" she cried, springing to her feet -and smiling bravely. - -"Leslie--you here--you!" And the next moment he had gathered her in his -arms and was patting the head that rested on his shoulders. - -"I'm so glad to see you, that you're alive and well," she went on -affectionately. "Colonel Morehead told me----" - -"What's Morehead doing?" broke in her father, putting her gently from -him. - -"Turning my stocks and bonds into cash, or getting a surety company -bond on them, I don't know which. Isn't it lucky, father, that I had -enough--more than enough to help you out? The Colonel says you may have -to stay here two or three nights...." - -Wilkinson was beside himself. - -"I won't--I won't stay here," he raged. "I'll take the risk----" - -"What risk?" she asked wonderingly. - -Her father sobered. - -"Oh, Leslie, I--I don't know what I'm saying. Don't mind me--I'm -unnerved, overwrought. Poor Pallister...." - -Leslie burst into tears. - -"Yes, poor, poor Roy," she murmured. "It was awful--simply awful! I -was so fond of him, father. He was always so kind, so thoughtful and -considerate, and devoted to your interests, wasn't he, father?" - -Wilkinson merely inclined his head, contenting himself with patting her -hand and saying: - -"There, there, my girl, don't cry." - -For, truth to tell, he was much too taken up with a consideration of -his own affairs to have any time for other people's troubles, much less -mourn over Roy Pallister, though, in his way, he was undoubtedly fond -of the little chap. However, after Leslie had calmed down sufficiently -to talk connectedly once more, he not only listened, but approved of -the girl's suggestion that she offer a reward, a large reward for the -discovery of the perpetrator of the dastardly crime. - -"Yes, I must know," he said to himself when once more alone in his -cell. "Flomerfelt must find out who fired that shot. Flomerfelt will -find out.... What would I do without him?" - -But the question would surely not have been asked had it been possible -for him to have overheard the conversation that took place, later, -between Mrs. Peter Wilkinson and his confidential man. - -As Flomerfelt entered the house, Mrs. Peter V. Wilkinson was waiting -for him. - -Flomerfelt was visibly excited. He removed his gloves and fell to -pacing lightly up and down the room. - -"What's the matter with you?" demanded Mrs. Peter V. - -Flomerfelt stopped before her, his white lips drawn tightly against his -teeth. - -"My, what a chance for an enemy in that big mob; and what a fumble!" - -"Were you there?" she asked. - -Flomerfelt shrugged his shoulders. - -"Trouble is something that I sidestep. I expected trouble and stayed -away." - -"You expected this?" The woman looked at him incredulously. - -"Wilkinson feared it, too, I think." - -"Why?" - -"The depositors--the mob----" - -"Was it one of the depositors who--who killed Pallister?" - -"How should I know?" And again he shrugged his shoulders, eyed his -coat-sleeves and his lean wrists, for his cuffs, obeying some unwritten -law, had crept up and out of sight. He jerked his arms again, and his -linen darted once more into view. Again he scrutinised it carefully, -first glancing upon his right hand and then upon his left. - -Mrs. Peter V. eyed him closely. - -"Doesn't anybody know who fired the shot?" - -He shook his head. - -"Some believe the depositors did it; others a personal enemy. Wilkinson -feared treachery, I think. A reward is being offered--a rather large -reward, I think--ten thousand dollars." - -The question, "By whom?" hung on her lips, but was interrupted by -Flomerfelt, who went on with: - -"It was Leslie's idea, I understand. She is beside herself--wants to -avenge Pallister." - -"Sorry about him myself," said Mrs. Peter V., seemingly sincere. It was -only when she added, "He certainly knew how to hook up waists," that -the shallowness of the woman's mind was evident. And even Flomerfelt -recoiled from her when, a moment later, she motioned to him to seat -himself by her side. - -"Who shot at Wilkinson?" she asked, persistently, drawing him closer to -her. - -Flomerfelt dismissed the subject with a wave of the hand. - -"As we remarked, it makes but little difference now. The shot went -wild." - - * * * * * - -At six o'clock that night, Eliot Beekman dined at the Iroquois Hotel in -Buffalo with J. K. Witheridge, cashier of the Bank Le Boeuf. - -"You were so successful, Mr. Beekman," said the cashier, when coffee -and cigars had arrived, "with that hopeless Cantrell mix-up of ours in -New York, that we thought we would give you a harder nut to crack. This -time our claim is for $50,000, if it's a cent." - -Beekman pricked up his ears. This was worth a hurried trip to Buffalo -and no mistake. - -"Against whom is your claim?" he asked. - -"One reason why we wanted to see you personally," the cashier went -on to explain, "is because there seems to be a good deal of secrecy -involved in this thing. Our claim is against the Tri-State Trust -Company--our funds on deposit there. We want to get them back." - -"You stand a small chance ..." quickly spoke up Beekman. "In my -opinion, Tri-State won't pay three per cent." - -"Admitting all that," conceded the cashier, "it's not the Tri-State -Trust Company that I want you to tackle; I want you to find its funds." - -"Funds? It hasn't any!" - -"Of course it hasn't, but we're satisfied--and other banks are -satisfied--that somebody's got its funds. And the fellow that gets in -first and right, is going to get his claim paid in full. That's why we -sent for you. The man we've got to fight is Peter V. Wilkinson." - -"Peter V. Wilkinson!" echoed the other. "And you say he's----" - -"We claim he's bagged the spoils." - -Beekman laughed outright. - -"Why, man, he's smashed--ruined! He hasn't got a dollar to his name. I -know him." - -"Indeed!" - -"Yes. And I'll tell you where I think you're off the track. -His daughter has money--money of her own. It came from her -mother--Wilkinson's first wife. I have no doubt that all these rumours -about Wilkinson's cash,--although this is the first I've heard about -it,--come from the fact that his daughter has money." - -"Pshaw! She has less than a million dollars--we have the facts on that. -We're not thinking about that; we believe Wilkinson has got upwards of -fifty millions packed away." - -Again Beekman laughed. - -"If you were in New York you wouldn't say that. Everybody there knows -that Wilkinson is a wreck." - -"Nevertheless we have our theory. We're willing to pay the shot," -declared Witheridge. "Now, is there any reason why I shouldn't go -on--tell you the rest--the confidential details? In other words, Mr. -Beekman, is there any reason why you should not take up this case and -probe Wilkinson to the finish?" - -Beekman thought for a while, weighing carefully the other's words. -There was reputation in this thing; moreover, he felt that it would -do Wilkinson no harm, for he was convinced of Wilkinson's honesty of -purpose. He saw no reason why honest business should be refused. More -than that, this Bank Le Boeuf had, in times past, employed him as its -counsel, and all through dinner Witheridge had been pouring praises in -his ear. - -"I hope you can take it," pressed Witheridge, "for to tell you the -truth, there's nobody in New York that we'd rather have than you. We've -that much confidence in you...." - -But Beekman still balked. - -"If I take this case, I needn't assure you, Mr. Witheridge, that you -may depend on me. The only reason why I hesitate is because I know the -man's daughter. But once I decide to take the case...." - -At that moment a waiter laid down an evening paper before Beekman; -he glanced at it, revolving the proposition the while in his mind. -Suddenly he started and cried out: - -"Great Scott! The man we're talking about--shot...." - -"Killed?" gasped Witheridge. - -"No--it's his private secretary that was killed." And with his eyes -still on the paper, "No, wait. There's more. Wilkinson is held in -three-quarter of a million bail. I heard this morning that he was -indicted, but I never expected---- And, Caesar's ghost! They've locked -him up in the Tombs and in default of bail. That's rough!" - -"My dear Beekman," grinned Witheridge, "don't you see that it's all a -game--all but the killing? Say that you'll take the case, then I can go -on--tell you the rest." - -But whatever would have been Eliot's decision at that moment, he was -not permitted to give it utterance. For just then he heard some one -calling out his name; and, glancing up, he saw a boy approaching him -with a telegram in his hand. - -"Mr. Beekman?" asked the boy. - -Beekman took the message, which said: - - ELIOT BEEKMAN, ESQ., - Hotel Iroquois, Buffalo, N. Y. - - You are retained in People vs. Wilkinson as counsel for defence. - Take the first train for New York. - - MOREHEAD. - -After grasping its contents, Beekman quickly passed it over to his host -with the one word: "Read." And then he added: - -"This is a retainer, Mr. Witheridge, that I cannot very well refuse. -You see," he was smiling now, "I know his daughter." - - - - -IX - - -Ten men crowded into the office of Assistant District Attorney Leech, -ten men of various sizes and complexions, ten men upon whom sat -undoubted respectability, and yet in whose eyes gleamed a gnawing -anxiety--a strange excitement. - -A deputy assistant district attorney--or a d. a. d. a., as they call -them there, received the delegation coldly. - -"What in thunder is this mob doing here?" he asked. - -The ten men nodded toward their spokesman; he leaned against the d. a. -d. a.'s desk. - -"Chief clerk sent us here," he said. - -"What about?" asked his cross-examiner. - -The spokesman drew from his pocket a folded paper and opened it wide -for the other to read. - -"Ten Thousand Dollars Reward for information leading to the Conviction -of the Murderer of Roy Pallister," is what he read, after which the d. -a. d. a. looked at it curiously, and added: "Well? What then?" - -"Well," said the spokesman, as the ten men crowded closely about him, -"we've got information--see?" - -"What information?" - -For answer he drew forth a weapon--an ugly-looking weapon: a hammerless -revolver, with one chamber empty. - -The d. a. d. a. sniffed with some excitement. - -"Where did you get it?" he demanded. Surreptitiously he nodded to a -uniformed attendant, who as surreptitiously shut the door and locked it. - -"Picked it up the day young Pallister was killed," went on the -spokesman, "picked it up where the man that used it left it lying--when -he ran away." - -The assistant glanced at him sharply. - -"Why didn't you pass it over right away?" he demanded. - -The ten men shrugged their shoulders, but it was their spokesman who -explained: - -"In that crowd," he returned slowly, "there was too much excitement -already. These here saw me pick it up, and we talked about it--talked -about it slow and cold. We didn't want to be mobbed ourselves, even by -the cops; we didn't want to be taken for the murderer--you understand? -So we closed in around this gun, y'see, and we kept it close, till -now." He grinned sheepishly. "Besides," he added, "our savings has been -lost in the Tri-State Trust, and we was kind o' waitin' for somethin' -of this kind," he pointed to the advertised reward, "thinking maybe we -could even up somehow, y'see." - -"I see," returned the assistant, grimly. "I see that you had no right -to wait an instant when you got this thing in your fist." He waved his -hand. "Never mind that now, but tell me who did the killing. Did you -know the man?" - -The ten men shook their heads. - -"We seen no man," one blurted out, "a hand--that's all I see." - -"That's all we see," assented the spokesman, looking to his fellows -for affirmance, "a hand and a shot. It was all so quick. We asked -everybody; nobody seen anything--just a hand and a shot, that's all." - -The assistant frowned. - -"Do you suspect who did it?" he interrogated. - -Blankly they shook their heads. - -The d. a. d. a. shot out a forefinger. - -"Tell me about that mass meeting of the savings depositors held the -night before the murder?" he demanded, at a venture. - -They returned his query with a stare. - -"There wasn't any mass meeting that we know of," they said. - -He rapped upon the table and nodded to the uniformed attendant. - -"You know what to do," he said. - -Evidently the attendant did; for after a short space of time he -unlocked the door, and six plain-clothesmen pounced upon the spokesman. - -"But I didn't do it!" yelled the big man who had handed over the -ferocious-looking gun. - -"He didn't do it!" cried the other men behind. - -"Aw, come on!" said the officer of the law, "we'll lock the whole kit -an' boodle of you up as witnesses. What--you won't? Come on--Come on!" - -"But don't you forget that we furnished information," called back the -spokesman, "that may lead to the conviction of somebody, and when that -happens, we want that ten, y'see?" - -It was not long before the news of the discovery of the pistol became -known. So that when Leslie arrived on a visit to her father, and -asked an officer if there had been any developments in regard to her -advertisement in the paper, she was answered in the affirmative. - -"Father, dear," she cried, excitedly, when they were alone, "listen to -me. I can't sleep to-night unless it can be arranged for me to see that -pistol that was found. I have a fancy that----" She stopped short. - -"A fancy--what?" he demanded suddenly. - -"That I may have seen it once before," she continued. - -Wilkinson called an officer. - -The officer took Leslie across the bridge and into the other part of -the building where the pistol was to be seen. Its custodian watched the -girl narrowly as she looked upon it; but she gave no sign. - -"I don't believe I ever saw that one before," she volunteered. - -Back again with her father, she whispered eagerly in his ear: - -"Father, oh, father, what am I to do? That gun there is the very gun -that Giles Ilingsworth had in our house that day. It's the same--the -very same, I'm sure of it. What am I to do?" - -Wilkinson uttered an oath under his breath. - -"We'll give him up, that's what we'll do! We'll hunt him down!" he said -excitedly. "He tried to kill me, and he did kill little Pallister." - -He stood there staring at her, his face growing whiter all the time. -He was about to speak again when he was interrupted by the entrance of -Colonel Morehead. - -Through the lawyer's mind, as he looked at Wilkinson and his daughter, -a number of impressions were passing. The three days' confinement -in a cell had left its traces on the multi-millionaire: a terrible -depression was on him, his shoulders were hunched, and his eyes -lustreless. With Leslie, of course, there was no such great change, -though her lips were trembling, her eyes wide and searching, and her -figure seemed shrunken. In other words, the shadow of the Tombs -was upon them all. All--the word is used advisedly, for Morehead, -himself, was by no means in a normal condition. Veteran, though he -unquestionably was, he had shivered as if with dread the moment he had -crossed the threshold of the jail. Hundreds of times, it is true, he -had passed in and out without let or hinderance, and yet upon every -occasion this indescribable sense of dread--the clutch of terror, -the stretching out of the cold, clammy hand of penal servitude, the -horribly silent eloquence of bolt and bar--was ever present. Custom had -not staled it; it bit into him with terrible force. - -But whatever he felt, he gave no sign. To-day, as always, he had -merely nodded to the doorman as he passed in, strode down the narrow -passage-way and pushed through the turn-stile. At that point, however, -he had been confronted by the deputy warden of the jail. - -"Counsellor," asked big Bill Steen with unaccustomed caution in his -tone, "who was you looking for?" - -The Counsellor smiled. - -"You have only one of my birds shut up in your aviary, Bill. Obviously, -he's the man I wish to see." - -Big Bill nodded, still with suspicious caution. - -"Peter V. Wilkinson, I suppose?" - -"Precisely," returned the Colonel, and was starting on. - -"One moment, Counsellor," went on the deputy, detaining him. "You an' -me is old friends, and I don't want to hurt your feelings. But I have -been warned by Murgatroyd. The District Attorney is most particular -about this case." And a curious expression crossed his face, as he -added: "You must admit, Counsellor, that we don't often have a guy -locked up here--worth millions and charged with larceny, forgery and -perjury, all at once, and who's waitin' for three-quarters of a million -bail." - -"No, it isn't an everyday occurrence, I acknowledge. Now, will you -bring him down, or shall I go up to him?" - -Again the deputy shook his head. - -"Counsellor, District Attorney Murgatroyd says be careful, and I got -to, even with an old friend like you. If there's any attempt at an -escape,--and a man who's said to be worth millions and wants to get out -of jail--well, sometimes, locks will turn and bars will break. I don't -know that it would take so many millions to----" - -Colonel Morehead looked straight into the eyes of big Bill Steen, with -that confidential look which had won him many juries. - -"Bill," he said, under his breath, "suppose he wasn't worth -millions--only a fraction of a million! And suppose he couldn't get -bail! How much would you take, Bill, to let him go? How much? A hundred -thousand, two hundred, a quarter of a million? Come--say the word." - -The deputy indignantly drew away. - -"Counsellor," he protested, "you couldn't touch me with ten million. I -wouldn't let him off for that." - -Morehead's smile was not a pleasant one. - -"Steen," he went on severely, "you'll let him off for less. Oh, yes, -yes you will; I know all about you, one hour won't pass before you'll -be sending a man upstairs to let Wilkinson out. Come, call it a hundred -and fifty thousand.... No? Then two ... two and a half----" - -"Not on your life!" returned Steen, raising a deprecating hand. - -Colonel Morehead fixed his hypnotic eye upon the other, drew himself up -to his full height, thrust his hand into his breast-pocket, pulled out -a paper, and held it under the nose of Steen. - -"Look at that, Bill," he insisted, "and see whether my prophecy comes -true." - -The deputy warden opened the paper, glanced at it and grinned. - -"Quit your kiddin', Counsellor! Why didn't you say all along that you'd -given bail?" - -"You can send it to your friend Murgatroyd," concluded Morehead, "and -make sure it's O. K. I'll go up to Wilkinson." - -Colonel Morehead, on leaving the warden, was suddenly conscious of a -feeling of disgust. With an effort, however, he shook it off, and there -was a semblance, at least, of a smile on his face when he appeared, as -has been said, before Wilkinson and his daughter in the counsel room. - -"They're going to let you out, Peter," he announced, seating himself at -a table and squaring his elbows, "and right away." - -"I thought they never would," was Wilkinson's answer. "These three days -have seemed more like three years to me.... So you got it through, did -you? Surety Company fix it up ...?" - -"I got the Court to reduce the bail to half a million; your daughter -Leslie and the Surety Company did the rest." - -Leslie started. - -"I! Why I didn't know that I did anything?" - -Colonel Morehead smiled. - -"You assigned two-thirds of your own fortune--stocks and bonds--to the -surety company to secure them. So if Peter V. skips his bail--runs -away,"--he was leering at him now,--"you stand to lose, you see." - -"Runs away," repeated Leslie. The words were like music to her ears. -"What a splendid idea! It would be the best way out of it, after all. -You could take the _Marchioness_," she went on enthusiastically, "and -steam to the ends of the earth!" - -"Haven't I told you, Colonel, that she was a hard-headed little -proposition," said her father, with a good deal of pride. "Not a bad -idea, the _Marchioness_. Now, if--if I were guilty, instead of being -innocent...." - -Colonel Morehead grunted. - -"Do you think that your steam yacht the _Marchioness_ is any match for -District Attorney Murgatroyd? He'd find you even in uncharted seas, and -bring you back." - -"It's all O. K., Counsellor," called out Bill Steen, tapping on the -door; "you can go now!" - -Steen unlocked the door of the dingy little room. And as Peter -Wilkinson started to go, Steen intercepted him and held out his hand, -hesitated a moment, and finally said: - -"It ain't often that we have a man of your standing, Mr. Wilkinson, in -our hotel. Would you mind a-shakin' hands before you go?" - -Wilkinson shook hands with a will. - -"Here's hoping that we may never see you here again," said Steen, -cordially. - -"You can be sure of that," answered Wilkinson, with just the ghost of -a smile on his lips. At the entrance he stood an instant and looked -up into the sky. "Free," he breathed, as to himself. Leslie clung to -his arm, and pressed her hand against her face. They started down the -steps, but Wilkinson drew back. - -"The crowds--the crowds--they'll mob me again!" he cried, his huge -frame shaking like a leaf. - -Morehead caught him firmly by the arm. - -"Come, Peter, brace up, take a big grip on yourself!" were his -reassuring words. "There's no mob, no one who knows you, anyhow. You -don't look so different from a lot of other men." - -Wilkinson shook himself and clenched his hands. - -"I'm all right now," he declared, "I lost my nerve in there." After a -long intake of breath, he added: "That's the last time they'll ever get -me in there, the last time, mark my words, Morehead. There were times -when I came near biting the bars. Think of me being locked up!" They -had reached the corner of the street. He halted. "There was a chap in -the cell next to mine," he went on, "who'd been sent up for five years. -Think of it! He was waiting to be taken up the river any day--didn't -seem to mind it, either. Five years in a place like that----" - -"The machine's around on Lafayette Street," interrupted the Colonel. "I -thought it better...." - -"Right," declared Wilkinson. "But we don't need it yet." - -Leslie turned to Colonel Morehead; her eyes were bright, her cheeks red -with excitement. - -"Why did my father have to stay in there; can you tell me that?" she -asked. - -"The bail was stupendous. I had arranged for reasonable bail; but this -was unusual," the Colonel explained. "But that's not all--the surety -companies had been warned." - -"Warned! Did you say warned not to give bail when they were secured?" -she cried. - -"Warned," repeated Morehead, "not to furnish bail without being sure -that they were secure." - -"Who warned them?" echoed Wilkinson, incredulous. - -"The _Morning Mail_," began the Colonel, but was interrupted by -Wilkinson: - -"Phew! And who owns the _Morning Mail_?" - -Morehead smiled. - -"Check and countercheck," he grinned. "Ougheltree and his gang have -just bought it." Turning to Leslie, he explained that Ougheltree was -the President of the Twentieth Century National Bank. "The National -Banks have formed in line to fight the Trust Companies," he told her, -"because the Trust Companies, having bigger powers, attract more -people. And they've opened fire on your father, first, and his string -of Trust Companies." And now once more he turned to Wilkinson, and -laying his hand on the other's shoulder, he said: "Do you know what I -was thinking just this morning? I think you ought to buy a daily paper. -I do, indeed! This is a crisis----" - -"But I already own a paper," objected Wilkinson. - -"I mean a good one. My idea would be to buy--well, say the _Daily -Reporter_. It's a crackerjack sheet that's just begun to go down hill. -It can be bought cheap, too." - -Leslie tightened her grasp on her father's arm. - -"Let me buy it for you, father, that is, if there's money enough left -to buy it with." - -Morehead's attention was directed afresh toward Leslie. - -"Let me go on, Miss Leslie," he continued. "There were other reasons -why haste was inadvisable. The _Morning Mail_, owned by this gang of -national bankers, is trying to poison public opinion against your -father. If we had instantly snapped a bail bond of three-quarters of a -million dollars on the files, the _Mail_ would have charged Peter V. -Wilkinson with being a rich man still, having the money of the masses -in his coat-tail pocket. It was wise and necessary, too, for me to -forestall this. I gave to every newspaper in the city the pedigree -of the stocks and bonds that you put up, showing that they were the -individual property of your mother, and had come down to you direct. -The result is that the _Morning Mail_ had not a word to say. We've got -to be mighty careful," he concluded, "about public opinion. For there's -a trial waiting for us out there in the future." - -There was determination in the girl's voice as she answered excitedly: - -"And we'll win it, too!" - -Wilkinson snorted. - -"Of course we'll win!" he cried. - -"We'll win," conceded Morehead, "but only after some shrewd -counsellor-at-law--naming no names--has mapped out the campaign." - -"That reminds me," said Wilkinson, "that we must put Flomerfelt on to -this." - -"Never mind Flomerfelt just now," advised Morehead. "Our first step is -to buy a live newspaper and start in. And the first thing that's going -to be chalked up to the methods of the _Morning Mail_, is the murderous -mob that's responsible for the murder of Pallister three days ago." - -They had started for Lafayette Street, but Wilkinson held them back. - -"Who's going to try my case, Morehead?" he queried. "Which one of -Murgatroyd's men?" - -Colonel Morehead smiled enigmatically. - -"Assistant District Attorney J. Newton Leech is the man. My information -is direct--direct from the inside." - -Wilkinson literally dragged them across the street. - -"Come on," he said, "we'll go in and see Assistant District Attorney -Leech right away." - -Morehead interposed, and demanded: - -"What for?" - -"Just to--er--throw a sop to Cerberus," said Wilkinson. "Come, come -along with me." - -Wilkinson's cringing manner of a little while before had left him. His -shoulders once more were straight, his Van Dyke belligerent. He had -assumed his position as a leader of men. - -"Both you and Leslie come along with me," he repeated. "I'm going to -scratch Leech's back, and maybe, one of these days, he'll scratch mine." - -They were ushered forthwith into the Assistant District Attorney's -outer office. His private door was open, and they could hear his even -voice within. His tones were mingled, however, with those of a woman--a -pleading, tearful woman, judging from her voice. Wilkinson's card was -sent in to Leech; and the instant that the Assistant District Attorney -saw it, his straight lips widened into a pleasant smile. He came out to -greet the three almost instantly, singled out Morehead and held out his -hand. - -"Colonel," he said in his sprightly and yet confidential manner, -"mighty glad to see you." And now turning his gaze on Wilkinson, he -added: "I'm afraid, Mr. Wilkinson, that you won't care to shake hands -with me; but I assure you I won't bite--not just yet, at any rate." - -Wilkinson shook hands warmly, and haw-hawed in a most approved and -business-like manner. Leech now turned swiftly to Leslie, and then -stopped, embarrassed. - -"Miss Wilkinson," began Colonel Morehead. - -"Mr. Leech, this is my daughter, Miss Wilkinson," said Peter V., -snatching the words from the Colonel's mouth, and then without giving -Leech the opportunity to make the usual acknowledgment, he hurriedly -went on in a loud, commanding voice: "Now, Leslie, dear, I want you to -tell Assistant District Attorney Leech of the threats that this man -Ilingsworth made to you the other day." - -"I beg your pardon," said Leech, stepping to the inner door and closing -it quietly, for Wilkinson's words had brought an exclamation to the -lips of the woman in the adjoining room, that had reached his ears. -Leech came back almost instantly and placed chairs for them all. - -"Tell him all you know, Leslie," commanded her father. - -The girl's breath came quick and short. Her father's words had come as -a shock to her, and she looked about her helplessly. - -"Father, I'd much prefer not," she protested. - -Morehead did not altogether approve of the proceeding, chiefly because -he had not been consulted upon it, and he interjected gravely: - -"Are we sure, Mr. Wilkinson, that she knows anything of the affair?" - -Wilkinson did not deign even to glance at his counsel, and ignoring the -girl's protests, and brushing aside or rather pushing his way through -her objections, as was his wont, with his shoulders, he repeated: - -"Leslie, I want you to tell Assistant District Attorney Leech all that -you know about this man Ilingsworth--all--you understand." - -Leslie, with difficulty, controlled herself, and cried out: - -"Father, this is a--a case of murder. I can't be the accuser.... Don't -drag me into it--please...." - -A dull red, angry colour crept up over Wilkinson's collar, and his eyes -flashed. - -"Leslie, don't you understand what this man Ilingsworth has done? He's -killed my private secretary Pallister! It's your duty.... How are you -going to escape ...?" - -Leech tiptoed back to the door of his private office and gently closed -the transom, which was open. - -"In order to relieve you, Miss Wilkinson," he now said, and his voice -was reassuring, "I may as well tell you that we have established, -beyond all doubt, proofs of Ilingsworth's guilt. We have people who say -they saw him in the crowd; we've found the man who sold him the gun, -and we've shown him Ilingsworth's photograph, which he identifies as -unquestionably the man." - -"But you haven't got Ilingsworth?" quickly interposed Morehead. - -"Not yet," and Leech fastened his eyes on Leslie. "Can you have any -idea as to where he is?" - -The three dissented silently. - -"We'll get him yet," smiled Leech. "It is rare that we do not succeed -in landing a person when once we start out to," he went on, his glance -shifting to Wilkinson, who met it in open and genial defiance. - -"You--you have time to hear what my daughter has to say?" asked -Wilkinson, and without waiting for an answer, he added: "I think now is -the time to take it down--and----" - -Leech rose abruptly. - -"Miss Wilkinson, you would know this man Ilingsworth, I suppose, if you -saw him?" - -"Yes," faltered Leslie, "I should know the man. But his pictures in -the daily papers--I should never have known him from those." - -"Just a moment, until I get his photograph," whispered the Assistant -District Attorney, opening the inside door; presently he returned, -closing the door again behind him, and advancing towards them he -resumed confidingly: "The fact is, I've got Ilingsworth's daughter -inside there. I shouldn't be surprised if she knew where the old man -is, either, though she insists that she does not, and----" - -Wilkinson grunted. - -"And you're practising third-degree tactics on her, I suppose," he said. - -"Well, not exactly that, but persuasion--polite persuasion, that's -all," explained the Assistant District Attorney, smiling. He stepped -once more toward the inner door, and Leslie, obeying some hidden -impulse, darted quickly to his side. - -"Will you let me see her without being seen," she pleaded. "He told me -all about her--her name is Elinor." - -"Stand here, then," whispered Leech, and opening the door swiftly, he -passed over to the window and held the girl within in conversation -while he searched among his papers, and in such a manner that -three-quarters of her countenance was turned toward Leslie. One glance -at the pretty face of the girl was sufficient to satisfy Leslie that -Elinor Ilingsworth was in great distress, and taking her place beside -her father, she whispered: - -"Oh, father, you should see her. She's in great trouble, and yet she -looks so--so pretty." Genuine anguish shone from Leslie's eyes as she -now turned from her father to Colonel Morehead, and asked: - -"Who's going to take care of her? What's to become of her now?" - -Leech had returned by this time and was holding before Leslie a -half-tone photograph of Giles Ilingsworth. - -"That's the man!" cried Leslie, seizing the picture. She turned it -over and glanced involuntarily at the inscription on the back. "Taken -particularly for my daughter Elinor," it said. "Affectionately her -father, G. I. Sept. 190----" - -Leslie's eyes reproached Leech. - -"You make this girl an instrument in her father's destruction," she -said indignantly, little understanding what part she might play later -in her own father's affairs. - -Leech, who seemed to take a very business-like pleasure in feasting his -eyes upon Leslie's face, merely nodded, and after a moment's silence he -said: - -"You forget, Miss Wilkinson, that we have our duty to perform. A man -who murders is not entitled to so very much consideration, after all." -He looked at the photograph in her hand. "If you're sure that this is -the man you know as Giles Ilingsworth, you might tell me briefly what -he said. It is not vital," he went on hastily, "that is, we can make -a case without it. But we want--and Mr. Wilkinson is good enough to -offer----" - -"Mr. Leech," broke in Wilkinson, seeking the Assistant District -Attorney's glance, which he held to the end, "let me be understood. -This man Ilingsworth killed a man in my employ--to be exact, my private -secretary, my friend. I want to put myself on record here and now: -Whenever a man tries to do me an injury, whenever a man tries to hound -me--hound me, understand, as this man Ilingsworth did,"--he paused for -an instant,--"his gun was aimed at me, don't you forget that--why, -I camp on that man's trail until I land him. And conversely, if a -man does me a favour,"--again there was a pause to let the fact sink -home,--"I never forget it. Now, Leslie," he concluded, "you may proceed -with the facts, and tell us about the man who tried to kill your father -in cold blood." - -Leslie's recital consisted of the threats Ilingsworth had made. -Wilkinson supplemented it with his statement as to the unwarranted -attack on himself by Ilingsworth in front of Wilkinson's house on the -Drive on that eventful evening a short while before. Leech took no -notes of these statements, but merely tucked away the details to be -dictated to his stenographer later in the privacy of his inner room. - -"That's all, Mr. Leech," said Wilkinson, rising, and, holding out his -hand, the other shook it genially. - -"By the way, who's going to try the Ilingsworth case for the People?" -inquired Morehead, hoping to take the Assistant District Attorney off -his guard. - -"Nobody knows yet," snapped the Assistant District Attorney, in a -manner to remind the Colonel gently but forcefully that it was nobody's -business but the People's. - -At the outer door, Leslie held them for a moment. - -"If there was any way to," she faltered, "I'd like to know what's going -to happen to--to that girl inside. I----" - -Wilkinson winked at Morehead. - -"Why, girlie," he exclaimed, "Ilingsworth's stolen millions will take -care of her!" - -Leslie brightened up. - -"To be sure," she answered. "I--I never thought of that. I'd forgotten -all about the fact that he had money still." - -"He reeks with money," added Morehead, returning Wilkinson's wink. "And -now, for the machine." - -Twenty minutes later Wilkinson stalked into the presence of his wife -and Beekman. It was late afternoon, and Beekman was to dine with them -that night. Wilkinson bowed ostentatiously to Mrs. Wilkinson, and -commented: - -"Overpowered, my dear, absolutely overpowered by your attentions to me -while I was in the Tombs. I actually felt like a bachelor again." - -"How could any man expect a lady to go there?" she asked, glaring at -Beekman, and evidently expecting him to come to her aid, but as no -comment was forthcoming from that gentleman, she concluded her remark -by saying: "Not for the best man alive would I trail down into that -dirty, dingy place." - -Wilkinson groaned with disgust. - -"Nevertheless, there were some women," he reminded her, "who came -there, clad in rags, and stood, stood, stood on their tired feet all -day long, outside the cells of the men they loved. They were wives, -mostly wives, too, for I heard what they had to say...." He, too, -appealed to Beekman. "It's worth while, Beekman," he wound up, a trifle -sadly, "to be loved for yourself alone, and not for your money, isn't -it?" - -The mistress of the house lifted up her voice in raucous mirth. - -"I don't see, Peter," she returned, "that you have any money to be -loved for now." - -"Hence," commented her lord and master, while Beekman grew hot and cold -by turns at this free and easy bickering, "hence you didn't come down -to the Tombs. But," his forefinger shot out and, figuratively speaking, -touched her on a vital spot, "you made a big mistake! If you'd been -there the artists of the daily press would have had you shown up in -forty different poses for Sunday. I had the devil's own time in keeping -Leslie's face from getting in. But yours--I could have had it in every -hour of the day without its costing me one penny." - -The lady leaned forward in genuine eagerness, and asked: - -"Is that true, Peter? I thought they had abandoned me--left me on the -shelf. But if it's true, I promise to be there every day the next time -you're locked up." - -Peter V. paled perceptibly. - -"There isn't going to be any next time," he laughed. "Eliot Beekman's -going to see to that." - -Meantime in the Colonial drawing-room, Leslie was enjoying a quiet -tete-a-tete with Colonel Morehead. - -"It was the nicest thing in the world, Colonel," she was telling him, -"your picking out Eliot Beekman for--for father. And I believe you're -right. Mr. Beekman is so honest, so earnest, and so convincing. And he -looks you in the eye so." - -"Um, how does he look you in the eye?" returned the Colonel, meeting -her gaze. - -But Leslie, flushing, had already fled. - -It was hours later, when alone with Beekman, she looked into his eyes -squarely, as was her habit, and asked falteringly: - -"Do you know, Mr.--Mr. Beekman----" - -Beekman stopped her. - -"Begin again," he commanded, "you can do better than that." - -"Mr.... Mr...." she started in, but again Beekman protested. - -"Now look here, I'm only one of six lawyers in your father's case. -Every last man of 'em calls you Leslie--even Patrick Durand, and I'm -going to call you Leslie, too. It's a part of my duties, as your -father's counsel in the case. Therefore, you begin again, and begin it -right." - -There was a moment's pause in which Leslie averted her face. - -"Eliot," she finally whispered, in gentle tones, her eyes coming back -to his, "I think it is perfectly fine of you to help father in this -way. Don't you know," she went on, "you said that night on the way home -from Mrs. Pallet-Searing's, that you wished you could do something for -him, help him some way. And now you've buckled on your armour in his -defence." - -"Hold on there!" called out Beekman, in alarm. "Wait a bit! Is that -what you call it-- my helping him? Why, there are just about ten -thousand lawyers in the Borough of Manhattan who'd give their eyes to -get the job. And, besides, don't laud me yet. Great Heavens, Leslie! -Don't you understand that I've got a fat retainer in my pocket for all -this?" - -The girl laughed in glee. - -"So much the better!" she exclaimed. Presently her brow wrinkled and -she demanded: "Who paid it to you, Eliot?" - -"Colonel Morehead," quickly spoke up Beekman. - -"I wonder where he got the money?" she mused, then she laughed once -more. "Probably my money," she said. "Wouldn't it be great if I were -paying you for this?" - -"It would," answered Beekman in mock solemnity, "because, getting this -much out of your coffers, I should have hopes in time of depleting your -funds to a very large extent, so that some day in the future, having -flim-flammed you out of a large proportion of your worldly wealth, I -should then stand on that footing of American equality I mentioned to -you the other night, and might, in turn, 'with all these worldly goods -I thee endow'----" - -"Don't you be too sure," she said seriously. - -Nor was it given to them to know what the fates had in store for them, -that the time was soon to come when Beekman should be on that equal -footing, to which he referred, and, what is more, that he was to stand -as the one man in the state, the cynosure of all eyes, his name on -every lip. - -"At any rate," she went on, "it's fine of you to fight.... You're going -to fight, aren't you?" - -He looked over her head far into the future. It was all hazy there, but -in his ambitious purposes Beekman recognised that he held within his -grasp the one big opportunity of his career. - -"Fight," he echoed, "to the last ditch." - -"And so am I," she went on enthusiastically. "We'll all fight, and -we'll win; we're bound to win." - -"We're bound to win," he repeated, the blood surging through his veins. -"And when we win--what then?" He looked deep into her eyes; but she -cast them down before him. - -"Let's win first," she faltered. - -If only there had been a warning hand, a friendly voice to tell him -what lay before him in the future! For could he have heard Wilkinson's -words, that very afternoon, to the Assistant District Attorney: "The -man who does me a favour I never forget; the man who injures me I never -forgive,"--he might have thought twice before replying: - -"It's a go. You're quite right. We'll win first." - - - - -X - - -"You ought to have been there, Patrick! By jinks, you had ...!" -exclaimed Wilkinson some months later as he watched the rings of smoke -from his cigar float upwards to the ceiling of the Millionaires' Club. -"I fixed him, didn't I, Colonel?" - -Colonel Morehead thought a moment before replying: - -"I shouldn't wonder if you did, Peter. You furnished the evidence of -deliberation--that essential element in a murder case--the lying in -wait. Yes, your admirable efforts in that direction will probably land -Ilingsworth in the chair." - -"Probably! Oh, thunder," put in Patrick Durand, one of the cleverest -criminal lawyers in the city, "that man Ilingsworth is dead already!" - -Colonel Morehead placed the finger-tips of one hand against those of -the other as he made answer: - -"If he'd been merely one of a crowd of maddened depositors, acting -in the heat of passion, it would have been second degree, without a -doubt. And yet,"--and the Colonel darted sharp glances first at Durand -and then toward his client,--"in my opinion, the star witness of the -prosecution was your daughter Leslie. The jury believed every word -that she said." - -And indeed such had been the case at Ilingsworth's trial. Assistant -District Attorney Leech had made no mistake in the order of summoning -his witnesses. After her father, bluff, arrogant and eager--and -over-willingness is a bad virtue in a witness--had finished his -testimony, Leslie had taken the stand and had wholly removed the bad -impression Wilkinson had made on the jury through his evident desire -that Ilingsworth should be convicted. Moreover, Leech had trained the -girl, as he did all his witnesses, to answer the essential facts, -and nothing else. And to make his task all the easier, Ilingsworth's -lawyer, a hanger-on of the criminal courts--for Ilingsworth had had -no funds to employ first-class counsel, and a prisoner without money -is a doomed man in New York--had wallowed through the trial without -a glimmering of common sense. From the first, as might have been -expected, he had played directly into the hands of the People. But his -blundering had not been without its interesting side--interesting, at -least, to a few of his hearers. For despite the Assistant District -Attorney's strenuous objections, the Court had overruled his contention -that the entire conversation between Giles Ilingsworth and Leslie that -memorable afternoon was irrelevant and immaterial, and in consequence -the good-for-nothing lawyer had led Leslie on to tell in detail all -of Ilingsworth's grave charges against her father. And it was at that -point, and barely before the girl had uttered two hundred words, -that a reporter of the _Morning Mail_ had succeeded in wriggling -his way through the lawyers inside the rail, and had not crept back -into his place and resumed the taking of copious notes until the -court stenographer to whom he had whispered: "Say, old man, I want -all this, word for word, by two o'clock, at any price," had nodded -his willingness to accept the fifty-dollar bill that he was sure the -_Morning Mail_ must vouchsafe him for this hurry job. - -And so it happened that an hour later the _Morning Mail_ man was -telling Mr. Ougheltree of the Twentieth Century Bank and head of the -bankers clique that owned the _Mail_, that he had to stand by this man -Ilingsworth from start to finish. And as a result of this interview -the few spectators at the afternoon session of the court had heard the -celebrated Worth Higgins inform the Court that he had been retained to -conduct the case for the defence, as well as the Court's complimentary -remarks in reply. - -But Worth Higgins had been of little service to the defendant, though -he had drawn from his witnesses, especially Ilingsworth, all that -they knew or suspected about Wilkinson's management of the seventeen -bankrupt trust companies--a feat which, as will readily be imagined, -was all that the _Morning Mail_ required of him. In truth, Higgins had -done Ilingsworth more harm than good. The defendant had deliberately -purchased a gun; had lain in wait; had shot a man down in cold blood. -Not the man he had aimed at, it is true, but the principle was the same. - -"Will the defendant deny that he did the shooting?" had been Higgins' -query to Boggs. - -"Of course he will," had been his fellow-counsel's answer. "He's as -innocent as a new-born babe." - -And with that Higgins had put the defendant on the stand and heard him -deny it--a weak, wabbling denial it was, in reality merely a recital of -his wrongs. - -"That's all," Higgins said, when the testimony was over, and then he -had added in an aside to his junior: "His goose is cooked." - -Nevertheless, at the suggestion of the _Morning Mail_ man, he had taken -all the exceptions possible, remarking to that gentleman's intimation -that the case was going up for an appeal: "A good thing it is, for it's -a gone case here." - -And Higgins had been quite right. For, a short time after this the jury -had filed back and pronounced the one word of doom. - -In common with everyone in the court-room, save Ilingsworth and his -daughter, Leslie had expected just such an ending. All through the -trial she had longed for the words that would relieve her from the -thraldom of uncertainty in which she was held; yet when the foreman -had pronounced the verdict it had shocked her inexpressibly, left her -indescribably sad. For some moments she had struggled to regain her -composure, and fearful of a break-down, she had fled, but not in time -to escape seeing Ilingsworth slump down into his seat with a faint -moan. At the door the sound of many voices and exclamations of pity -had reached her ears. She halted, and looking back she saw that the -commotion was the result of some woman who had fainted. And then it -was that she saw, too, the never-to-be-forgotten picture of Elinor -Ilingsworth, friendless and helpless, looking hopelessly down upon -her father while she endeavoured to soothe him with endearing words. -Impulsively Leslie had started back, a vague intention of putting her -arms around the girl's neck, of taking possession of her, as it were, -and carrying her, who needed care so much, to her own home. But like -a flash the futility of such a course had dawned upon her. For the -realisation had been borne in upon her that it was her own testimony, -more than anyone else's, that had been the means of convicting the -girl's father; and that for her to offer words of sympathy to the -daughter would be a mockery if not an insult. It was, therefore, with -a sigh that Leslie had again retraced her steps, forcing herself to be -content with giving the girl a glance of infinite pity. - - * * * * * - -"Conceding that Leslie's testimony did for him," Wilkinson was now -saying to his cronies at his club, gulping down his Scotch, "conceding -that, but who set her on--made her testify? It was I who bit into that -fellow's heel, and don't you forget that I'm proud of it." - -Morehead stared through the cloud of collecting smoke. - -"I wish, Patrick," he proceeded to say to Durand, in his own calm way, -"that you could have been there for just one reason: I am anxious to -know whether my view of the effect of Peter's testimony on the jury is -correct." - -Patrick Durand waved his hand. - -"You ought to know, Colonel." - -"Don't you think it had a good effect on 'em, Morehead?" queried his -client. - -Morehead rose and stretched his legs, and without glancing, even, at -Wilkinson, he said bluntly: - -"Durand, I watched them closely--each one of the twelve. And, mark my -words, if it hadn't been for Leslie, I don't believe one man in the -twelve would have believed a word that Peter said." - -Wilkinson turned red. - -"What the devil do you mean, Morehead?" he roared. "Is this an insult?" - -Morehead never flinched. - -"Sit down, Wilkinson," he commanded curtly. "I'm talking to Mr. Durand. -What do you think, Patrick?" - -Patrick Durand glanced over the rims of his glasses at the ceiling. - -"Representative men, were they, Colonel?" he asked. - -"A good mixture," said the Colonel. "I never saw a better...." - -Durand drew a long breath. - -"It looks bad--mighty bad, Colonel, for us," he observed calmly. - -"What do you mean? How bad for us?" insisted Wilkinson, his face still -red with the imputation cast upon him. - -Durand looked at him long and searchingly, doubtful whether to take him -into their confidence or not. Presently he said: - -"It's just this, Brother Wilkinson: If an ordinary jury isn't going to -believe a man when he tells the truth, what are they going to do when -he deliberately lies?" - -"But hang it, man," exploded Wilkinson, "I didn't lie; I told the -truth." - -"Yes, Wilkinson, you told the truth in this Ilingsworth case, but it's -your own case we're thinking about. There'll be a jury in that, too." - -"You fellows make me tired," growled Wilkinson. "My case--if it ever -comes to trial----" - -"Oh, don't you worry about that! It will come to trial, all right," put -in Flomerfelt, speaking for the first time, and helping himself to a -fresh cigar. - -"It won't if my overtures to District Attorney Murgatroyd are -accepted," retorted Peter V. - -The two eminent counsel lifted up their eyes in mild surprise. - -"You don't mean to say you're going to bribe Murgatroyd?" came in -chorus. - -"Why not?" - -"You've got enough indictments against you already, Peter," they warned -him, "without having Murgatroyd charge you with an attempt to bribe." - -"No, indeed, you can't bribe Murgatroyd," spoke up Flomerfelt, with a -knowing smile. "Though I'll tell you what, Colonel," he went on, "there -is a chap who's not above suspicion on that staff." - -Morehead winked. - -"The hold-over from the last administration?" - -"You mean Leech?" gasped Wilkinson. - -Flomerfelt nodded. - -"It's better to hear you say the name than to say it ourselves, Peter," -remarked Morehead. - -"Why, then the case needn't come to trial!" exclaimed Peter V., -joyously. "We can get at Leech." - -"Not in a hundred years!" ejaculated Flomerfelt. "Murgatroyd stands -behind these indictments in your case, don't you forget that. And even -if Leech tries them, Murgatroyd will be there to see.... The Assistant -District Attorney won't be able to move out of the beaten track. Your -case will come to trial, never fear." - -"Well, then, let it come," grunted Wilkinson, a little ruffled by the -demeanour of Flomerfelt and his counsel. "But by that time this man -Ilingsworth will be dead; we'll shove everything on him." - -"I don't believe Ilingsworth will be dead," remarked Morehead. "Indeed -I do not." - -"Well, even if he isn't," retorted Wilkinson, huskily, "he's wholly -discredited. A man who'll murder may commit other crimes; the jury will -believe anything of Ilingsworth by the time we're through with him." - -Morehead held up his hand. - -"Durand and I have gone over this whole thing; have looked up every man -on Flomerfelt's list; they won't stick to us, that's all. Wilkinson, -your crowd are down on you. And what's more, the _Morning Mail_ now -stands behind Ilingsworth, and they're going to stick by him. So if we -make this attempt to unload iniquity on Ilingsworth and fail, we'll -do two things we don't want to do: One is, we'll make the dangerous -admission that there has been iniquity; and the other, psychological -problem as it is, is quite as much to be feared----" - -"Fire ahead," interrupted Wilkinson. - -"I'm banking on Beekman--banking on his personality with his jury, and -I don't want the ghost of a doubt to show in his face. That's why I -sent him to Europe. Of course we need the evidence he's getting over -there--it's good stuff. But I sent him now in order that he shouldn't -even read, save in a casual way, this story of Ilingsworth. A true -story is a mighty bad story, Peter. So we'll cut Ilingsworth out of -this case. If the People produce him--and I'm satisfied they won't--why -we'll try to get him on the cross-examination. Durand and I have talked -it all over, and our game is going to be a game of denial from start to -finish. I doubt whether the People make out the case against you. If -they don't we've got 'em nailed. And if the judge sends the case to the -jury, we'll deny everything the People put up against us. But it's a -lucky thing for you that they'll believe your daughter Leslie." - -"It's a pity, Wilkinson," said Flomerfelt, with something like a -sneer, "that while you were about it, you didn't swing this thing in a -more careful way. Of course it's too late now. You bit off more than -you could chew that time! You thought you could get away with the -goods--got careless! I've seen many a safecracker do the same thing." - -Wilkinson flushed. - -"Do you mean to compare me with----" he began; but Flomerfelt left the -question unanswered. - -"This is no Sunday-school picnic, and you may as well understand it -now, Peter," said Morehead. "We've got to work for our living in this -case, and you've got to do your share, have got to understand that it's -a running fight from now on to the end." - -"I'll do my part," Wilkinson assured them, burying his hands in his -pockets. "But I want you to find out who the judge is going to be, and -when the time comes, give me the names of the jury, and I'll get at -them all right." - -Colonel Morehead rose to his lanky height and clutched the shoulder of -his opulent client. - -"Wilkinson," he cried, shaking a lean hand in the other's face, "you -don't know what you're talking about! And you might as well make up -your mind now that you can't touch Murgatroyd, and you can't touch the -Court. And Murgatroyd is there to see that you don't touch the jury. -We--Durand and I--have got charge of this thing. You keep your hands -off...." - -"But you're going to pull me out, aren't you?" - -" ... In our own way. So far I've always had my own way in my cases," -declared Patrick Durand, "and if I can't have it in this one, why, I'll -retire, that's all." - -"Yes, you must do as they say, Peter V." advised Flomerfelt, suavely, -and then lowering his voice so that the others should not hear, he -added: "If in the course of human events it should become necessary to -lay a bribe in order to get you clear, I'll attend to that myself." - - - - -XI - - -"Guilty, your Honour." - -The voice was the tremulous voice of the foreman of a jury. His hand -shook as it held the slip of paper from which he read the portentous -words. - -The Court leaned over toward him. - -"I didn't catch that," said the Court. - -Once more the foreman drew himself together, and moistened his lips -before he repeated in shrill tones: - -"Guilty, your Honour--guilty as charged in the indictment." - -For a brief moment there was a silence; then the spacious court-room -broke into subdued uproar. - -"Jumpin' Jerusalem, I didn't think they'd have the nerve to do -it!" came from a voice somewhere in the crowd; and judging from -the expression on the faces of the people, this remark was fairly -indicative of their opinion. - -The Court rapped for silence, and nodded to Beekman, the active counsel -for the defence. - -"If the Court please," began Beekman, his face pale, and his voice -trembling with surprise and disappointment, "we move to set aside the -verdict and for a new trial on the ground that the verdict is against -the weight of evidence, against the charge of the Court, contrary -to...." - -A heavy hand was laid upon Beekman's arm. - -"Hold on there! I want that jury polled!" The speaker of these words -was Peter V. Wilkinson; for this trial was his trial; and this verdict -was the verdict in his case. "Morehead, get 'em to poll that jury!" -Again he spoke as one accustomed to command, and not as a prisoner -before the bar. - -"Poll the jury," directed the Court. - -The clerk started to obey. - -"Now, Morehead," went on Wilkinson in a hoarse whisper, "I want you to -place in my hands--my hands, you understand--the name and address of -every mother's son upon that jury. I won't forget 'em, let me tell you -that." - -"John T. Wyatt," droned the clerk. - -And Wyatt, juror, stiffened for an instant, hesitated, and then taking -a big grip on himself, answered as his foreman had: "Guilty." Every man -in the box made the same answer; but as every man voiced his verdict, -he met the sullen, defiant, vengeful gaze of a man who never forgot, -who never forgave, and each man felt that instant as if, somehow, he -were in the tightening grasp of the big millionaire at the counsel -table. - -"Now make your motions, Beekman," whispered Morehead. - -And Beekman made a motion to set aside the verdict; made a motion in -arrest of judgment; made a motion for a new trial. - -Wilkinson watched the face of the Court as he had watched the faces of -the jurymen. - -"This is Gilchrist's chance to square himself, Morehead," he announced -huskily. "He's got to give us a new trial, or we'll know the reason -why." - -But Judge Gilchrist merely swept the court-room with a weary glance. - -"Motion denied," he said briefly, and with as much concern as if he -brushed away a fly. He now turned to the jury. "Gentlemen," he went on -gratefully, "you are discharged for the balance of the week--after this -long, protracted trial--with the thanks of the Court, for the fairness, -justice and impartiality of your verdict. Good-day, gentlemen." - -"Wha--what!" gasped Wilkinson in a voice that could be heard all over -the court-room. "Does he mean to say that this verdict is just--does -he, Morehead?" - -Colonel Morehead frowned with vexation. - -"Keep quiet, Wilkinson," was all he said. - -The Court waited until the jury had filed out, watching them as they -went. Then his glance returned to the coterie of counsel at the table. - -"Counsellor," he remarked to Beekman, "what day will be most convenient -to you for sentence? And you, Mr. Leech?" - -Up to this time Leslie, who had been sitting at the counsel table -with her father, had listened in a sort of daze to the proceedings of -the court. She had heard all the testimony, understanding it as best -she could, and had gathered from her father's manner and that of his -counsel, particularly Beekman's, that the whole thing was a mere matter -of form, from which her father would come out unscathed and unscarred. -The verdict had simply added to this vagueness; but when the Court had -pronounced the significant and ugly word 'sentence,' it brought her up, -as it were, all standing; and half-rising from her seat she held out -her hand in an imploring gesture. - -"Sentence?" she cried out in her excitement. "No, he can't mean -that...." - -There was a titter from the women on the benches; it brought Leslie to -her senses, and flushing and confused she sank back and covered her -face with her hands. - -"Leslie, brace up!" said Beekman, leaning over her, his voice showing -his deep emotion. "It will come out all right. We'll win out on appeal." - -Flomerfelt stepped to the fore and plucked Beekman by the sleeve. - -"Let me have a word with you," he requested, whispering something in -his ear. - -Beekman at once addressed the Court. - -"If your Honour please," he began, "may we have a brief consultation -among counsel before we ask your Honour to set a day?" - -"Certainly," agreed the Court, "you may step into the ante-room." - -Six counsel and Flomerfelt and Wilkinson--eight in all--filed into the -ante-room. - -"Shut that door, Eliot," said Morehead. "Now, Flomerfelt, what's your -idea?" - - * * * * * - -Out in the court-room J. Newton Leech, who had prosecuted for the -People, left the side of Murgatroyd and went over to Leslie to offer -his sympathy. - -"Miss Wilkinson, this has been pretty hard on you." - -"I don't understand it at all," the girl answered, turning her pale, -tired face to his. - -"I wouldn't worry," he went on, with something more than mere -professional courtesy in his eyes. - -And indeed Leech spoke truly when he said that the trial had been most -distressing to Leslie. It had been doubly so, perhaps, because of the -lack of the usual dramatic features. Forgery, perjury, larceny, ominous -charges to be sure, had figured in the case, but their proof consisted -in large account books, private memoranda, original reports from the -State banking offices, notes, stock transfers, in fact, everything to -weary and little to excite. - -District Attorney Murgatroyd, like the accusing ghost of Hamlet's -father, had stalked silent, brooding, imperturbable, behind his -assistant, Leech, dictating nothing openly, but seeing, knowing that no -stone was left unturned. For the first two days of the trial the People -apparently had made but little inroads upon the integrity of Peter V. -Wilkinson; but at the end of that time, some new and powerful influence -had made itself felt: shrewd accountants entered the court-room and sat -at the Assistant District Attorney's elbow; a financier or two kept at -Murgatroyd's side; absolutely unassailable witnesses took the stand. - -It was about this time that Morehead had nudged Durand and whispered: - -"The _Morning Mail_ and Ougheltree of the National Banks are at work. -Here's where our trouble begins." - -But although these two practitioners well knew, even at that early -stage of the game, that the chances weighed heavily against them, not -once did they flinch, not once did they permit the set expression of -confidence to leave their faces. On the contrary, they turned to their -leader and said: - -"Beekman, the jury isn't even nibbling at this stuff. We've got a -walk-over." - -But Beekman could not bring himself to their point of view. With -growing fear he listened to the evidence of the People as it piled up -against his client. Nevertheless, Beekman had--just the thing that -Morehead had said he had--an unaltering faith in Wilkinson. He was -partisan to the last degree. And so quite naturally his intellect -rejected the proofs of the People. Not that he did not appreciate their -weight, but rather that he didn't believe their truth. - -And what a fight he had put up for his client! To this day Beekman's -summing up is remembered. - -"We didn't make any mistake in getting him," Morehead had told Durand -after the address to the jury. - -Even Murgatroyd had been moved to admiration by his closing arguments, -turning black into white, as he did, because it looked white to him, -and the District Attorney had said to his Assistant: - -"Leech, you couldn't do that in a thousand years--not the way he does -it. And if it were not for public opinion, it is pretty certain that -Beekman would get an acquittal from this jury. As it is...." - -And not for one moment had Murgatroyd felt that the case was safe -until the foreman's tremulous tones had quavered forth upon the heavy -air of Sessions. - - * * * * * - -During the first few minutes of the time that was passed in the -ante-room behind closed doors, Beekman's face wore an air of profound -dejection. Instead of joining, as was to be expected, in an animated -discussion that the others were having, he had taken a seat by himself, -and was reproaching himself with dereliction of duty. Imagine, then, -his astonishment when presently the little coterie gathered about him -and began to laud him for his good work. - -"You're a wonder, youngster!" they told him. "And you may consider -yourself engaged again right now, if we get a new trial." - -"But they beat me! I failed!" replied Beekman, a look of bewilderment -on his face. For he had expected reproaches, and here was genuine -applause as for a winner instead of for a loser. - -"Thought you were going to get me out of this?" growled Wilkinson, -staring about him; for he knew that these men in some way were -responsible for his losing his case. - -"We are," returned Durand, grimly; but his eyes flashed a wireless -message to the eyes of Colonel Morehead. And this wireless message ran -about like this: "We are going to get him out of this ... but how?" - -Colonel Morehead's glance travelled quickly around the room in a -comprehensive way; then settled upon Wilkinson, and he said: - -"Gentlemen, I think Peter V. had better be sentenced now." - -"Now! Thunder and guns, not now! Give me another chance to get at the -Court, or at Murgatroyd. I need time--put it off as long as possible," -Wilkinson said, the tremour in his voice only half concealed. - -"Time is dangerous," declared Morehead, with a shake of the head. "We -don't want public opinion nor the _Morning Mail_ to get to work. The -public--except your own depositors--didn't believe that you were going -to be convicted; they believed you to be only technically guilty. -But give the populace two days to consider the fact that you've -been convicted--convicted of forgery--I don't say you're guilty, -Wilkinson--and let the _Morning Mail_ hammer that in for a week, the -Judge is bound to feel the force of this public opinion. It's the one -thing from which no public officer can escape." - -"Let Gilchrist sentence now, and you'll get off with a fine," -interposed Flomerfelt; "that was my suggestion." - -"That's the whole idea," said Patrick Durand. "The less delay there -is, the lighter it will be." - - * * * * * - -Meanwhile Assistant District Attorney Leech had been moderately -successful in his attempt to soothe Leslie. His manner and his words, -"I wouldn't worry," had seemed a guarantee to her that her troubles -were about to vanish. She began to reason that nothing could happen to -her father. Nothing ever did happen to respectable men like him--big -men, rich men. And so she watched with increasing confidence the eight -men file back into the court-room. - -"If the Court please," Beekman was saying gravely, at her side, -"instead of fixing a future day for sentence, we suggest that the Court -pronounce its sentence now." - -The suggestion fell like a bomb-shell in the midst of the crowd. Even -District Attorney Murgatroyd rose to his feet in surprise. - -"I see no reason," he began, and then remembering that he was not -trying the case, he nodded to his assistant; Leech took the cue and -pressed to the fore. - -"This is an important case, your Honour," he contended, "and one that -demands deliberation. It seems to me that it would be preferable to -defer sentence until--say, Thursday of next week." - -The Court quickly waved Leech back to his seat and addressed himself to -the prisoner. - -"What does the defendant say? Are you ready for sentence now?" - -"I am," said Wilkinson, and rising at Morehead's nudge he stood glaring -at the Court. Beekman was at his side, and extended his hand, saying: - -"Before sentence is pronounced, if your Honour please, I should like to -say a word or two on behalf of the defendant." - -The Court likewise waved him back. - -"I heard all you told the jury," remarked Judge Gilchrist, somewhat -sharply. "You exhausted the subject, there's nothing left to say. I -have the floor." - -There was a pause during which the Court slowly took off his glasses, -wiped them with his handkerchief and put them on again. - -"This is an unusual case," he began, looking sternly at the defendant. - -Back on the benches the crowd leaned forward eagerly. - -"What will he give him?" asked someone. - -On the rear seat, Burns of the Ideal Dairy, who never missed a big -trial, turned to his friend Porteous, the Park Row hardware man, and -remarked: - -"I'll bet you another fifty, Billy, that he fines him a cold million -dollars--that or more." - -The hardware man only laughed. - -"Done," he answered. "Judge Gilchrist wouldn't dare to fine him over -fifty thousand dollars--and----" - -"Hush!" whispered Burns. "He's speaking now." - -" ... confined for ten years in State's Prison at hard labour," -concluded the Court. - -The people looked at one another aghast; but Murgatroyd smiled a -smile of complete satisfaction. As for Leslie, she turned a startled, -half-reproachful glance at the Assistant District Attorney, and then -her face went white and her head sank slowly down upon her arm that -lay upon the table. Unconsciously Beekman rested his hand lightly -upon her shoulder, and although the court-room seemed whirling about -his head, he presently found himself counting the heart throbs that -shook her frame. At the table Wilkinson's counsel exchanged glances, -only Morehead and Durand apparently retaining their self-possession, -and proceeded to gather their papers together, and scoop them into -capacious leather bags, shutting the bags loudly with a snap. - -Wilkinson's face was scarlet, his eyes flashing fire. From the instant -of the rendition of the jury's verdict he had been a spluttering -volcano of righteous indignation; but now, as he glared at the Court, -he was searching in his mind for some torture, some vengeance fitting -for a judge who dared.... - -"Do you mean to tell me, Gilchrist," he shouted so that all might hear, -and advancing toward him, "that you've got the nerve to----" - -The Court rapped for order. - -"Clear the court-room!" he ordered; and turning to Beekman he added: -"Counsellor, your client is beside himself. Take charge of him, or I'll -have somebody do it for you." - -Morehead and Flomerfelt pulled Wilkinson down into his seat and held -him there while a court officer stood over him threateningly. For a -brief instant, only, Gilchrist let his cold, judicial gaze meet the hot -belligerence of Peter V. Wilkinson; then he rose, gathered his robes -about him, and passed on to his private chambers. - -Immediately four New York newspaper men boldly took possession of the -bench and got three flashlights of Wilkinson struggling in the grasp of -his attorneys. It took less than three-quarters of an hour to clear the -court-room, but within that time New York was reading the headlines: -"Ten years at hard labour in State's Prison for Peter V. Wilkinson, -the multi-millionaire." As a piece of news it was unquestionably quite -worth while; and in an incredibly short space of time London and Paris -had it; that night Constantinople had it; the world had it and gloated -over it. - - * * * * * - -"What are they going to do to you, father?" cried Leslie, when two -uniformed officers laid hands upon Wilkinson. - -"That's what I'd like to know," he answered in alarm. - -"Take him to the Tombs, of course," spoke up one of the officers. "What -else is there to do?" - -"No, I won't go back there! I refuse ..." cried Wilkinson, struggling. - -Morehead laid a detaining hand upon the officer's arm. - -"Wait a minute, officer," he said. "We'll file a notice of appeal -inside of ten minutes. We're having it prepared now. We'll give -bail--renew the bond...." - -Murgatroyd stepped forward and said, clipping his words off as he spoke: - -"I shall oppose this man's release on bail pending an appeal, unless -his present bail is increased to double the amount." - -"A million dollars! What are you talking about!" exclaimed Morehead. - -"I'm talking about the new rule," returned the District Attorney; -"and you know just as much about it as I do." And then smiling -significantly he added: "I think Judge Gilchrist will do pretty much -as I say. Maybe he'll ask for more because of your client's outburst -when sentenced. If you want to see the Judge, come along with me." - -"And in the meantime, Chief, shall we lock him up?" queried an officer. - -"Wait a bit," put in Leech, courteously glancing at Leslie. "Suppose -Mr. Wilkinson stays in my room until"--he looked at the Colonel -now--"you can give bail this afternoon, can't you?" - -"Not if it's a million dollars. Murgatroyd, this man has got to rely -upon his daughter's money," he pleaded. "We couldn't raise a million -dollars in a month." - -"Yes we can," snapped Wilkinson, the cold sweat standing out on his -forehead. "We can raise twice that in an hour." - -There was an interval of silence in which Morehead tried to look -unconcerned, and Murgatroyd winked at Leech. - -"I thought he had it somewhere," whispered the District Attorney to his -assistant. - -With this proof before him that he was standing in the presence of a -man far from bankrupt, Leech became doubly attentive. - -"I think I can accommodate Mr. Wilkinson in my private office until -five o'clock," he suggested smoothly. "Two officers can remain on -guard outside, Chief. Is that all right?" - -Murgatroyd nodded a tentative assent before saying: - -"Come, Colonel, and we'll see the Judge...." - -And an hour and a half later the bail had been fixed and matters -arranged by Morehead and his colleagues with the surety company. But -when the Colonel was back again in Leech's private office, he whispered -to Wilkinson: - -"Where's your nerve, you confounded idiot! Now you've given the whole -thing away! If you'd gone back to the Tombs for a few days longer...." - -Wilkinson gave him a look of withering scorn, and measuring his words -carefully, declared: - -"I'll never be locked up, Morehead, again--anywhere. I told you once, -and I tell you now for all time, that they'll never get Peter V. -Wilkinson again behind the bars." - -Colonel Morehead made no comment, but favoured him with an enigmatical -smile. After a moment or two, he went on to explain that if Wilkinson -had kept quiet they could have hunted up some of his friends and had -the thing fixed up in forty-eight hours; that now, after what had -happened, everybody, and especially Ougheltree and the _Morning Mail_, -would know that he had this money tucked away somewhere; and that -before long they'd find out where the rest of it was, concluding with: -"Somebody'll get it, Wilkinson--they'll get at it." - -Wilkinson resented, with a shrug of the shoulders, this interference -with what he considered his business, and made no answer. But turning -to Leslie, he said irritably: - -"Leslie, just put your name on the back of these things, will you. The -surety company is waiting for them." - -Leslie's face showed a peculiar change; and she turned the certificates -over to read them before attaching her signature. - -"Half a million more!" she gasped. "Why, I don't own that much, father. -They can't be mine to sign away, can they?" - -"Do as I tell you," ordered her father, gruffly, taking them out of her -hand and turning them face down. "Sign your name on the back of every -one of them." And when she had done so, he said to a waiting messenger: -"There, now, Surety Company, fork over that new bond." And motioning to -Morehead: "Call Leech--there's his bail." - - - - -XII - - -Peter V. Wilkinson was taken to his home in his big Mastodon car. -With him, besides the chauffeur, were his daughter Leslie and Colonel -Morehead. The news of the verdict, the sentence, and the release on -bail had travelled even faster than the sixty-horse-power machine whose -passengers had to fight their way through an impacted mass of humanity -which filled the sidewalk and the street in front of Wilkinson's big -place on the Drive. But then it was not every day that people had the -chance to look upon an ex-multi-millionaire who had been sentenced to -ten years at hard labour and had given a million-dollar bail! - -With difficulty they reached the door, and a moment later it closed -upon them. - -"Where's Mrs. Wilkinson?" asked the multi-millionaire of the first -footman he came across. And in an aside to Morehead: "I suppose the -missus will have a few remarks to make." - -He was informed that Mrs. Wilkinson was in her room and feeling -poorly,--"Very, very poorly," the servant had been told to say,--a -condition of late chronic with the lady. And she had developed another -alarming condition: her increasing avoirdupois, the disappearance -of the last remnants of her charms, the palpable bankruptcy of her -husband, and her envy of her step-daughter Leslie--the only member -of the household who still had grace of mind and face and figure, to -say nothing of wealth--all these had developed in the lady a latent -ferocity, a tigerish temper which seemed to hold unlimited force -behind it. All over the great house her shrill virago's voice could be -heard terrifying the servants; in short, her sudden rise to power was, -perhaps, best described by another member of the household. "The missus -rules the roost now," was the way her husband put it, and he knew -whereof he spoke. Indeed, for that matter, Wilkinson, himself hitherto -fearing no one, and priding himself in the fact, actually trembled -now during the few moments that he was compelled to be in the lady's -presence. - -"Colonel, you've got to come with me," begun Wilkinson. - -"Not I," was the brief refusal. - -"You've got to come if I have to pay you to do it," insisted the -husband. "I won't go up alone." - -And Colonel Morehead would probably have used an even more forcible -expression of refusal to do the husband's bidding had he known that -at that very moment his right-hand man was closeted upstairs with his -wife, and was telling her,-- with one of his inscrutable smiles,--a -smile that was intended to convey that it rested wholly with him -whether Wilkinson would get off or not,--that Wilkinson was convicted, -because the men who took the witness stand happened to tell the truth -and had ended emphatically with: "The whole truth, and nothing but the -truth." - -But it happened that when they entered on tiptoe the lady's -boudoir--Morehead having been finally persuaded, much against his -will--the lady did not deign to acknowledge Morehead's presence, but -sobbed out to her husband: - -"You did not stop to consider me! Why did you let them do this thing to -you? It all falls on me. The intolerable disgrace, shame, humiliation! -You, a felon, a convict, a common thief, a forger!" One after another -she hurled these epithets at him, while Flomerfelt discreetly withdrew. - -Wilkinson looked at Morehead for sympathy; then he answered with illy -assumed contrition: - -"Yes, my dear." - -"I can't face anybody--not my dearest friends," went on the lady. "I -shall never be able to go anywhere again--never." - -Wilkinson grinned feebly at his lawyer. - -"They say I won't, either, for the next ten years," he said, in -soothing tones. - -His jibe aroused the sleeping tigress in her. The lady rose and pointed -toward the door. Her gown was a masterpiece of dressmaking art, for -singular as it may seem her income had not been stopped. Upon her -breast lay jewels worth many thousands; about her neck was clasped a -dog-collar weighted with heavy pearls; and her fingers sparkled with -gems. - -"You can go!" exclaimed the lady, stamping her foot--this lady who -would have been nobody without the wealth that this man had lavished on -her. "All these years you've considered everybody but your wife," she -went on. "I've had to bear the brunt of it all. I--I.... The idea of -you letting them send you up for ten years, of heaping all this infamy -on me! I shall sue for divorce, do you hear, divorce!" - -"Yes, my dear," said Wilkinson, again meekly glancing at his counsel. - -"Go!" she exclaimed; then added with commendable melodramatic force: -"You and your paid hireling there, leave me!" - -Colonel Morehead grew purple in the face. He advanced toward his -client's wife. - -"Madam," he began angrily. - -"Come, Morehead, come away!" exclaimed Wilkinson, and he led him out -into the hall where he said: "Don't you know she'd have scratched your -face if you'd stayed there any longer?" - -Tumultuously they descended the stairs and crept into the den on the -floor below. - -"That's over," sighed the husband, setting the decanter on the table -and passing the cigars. And for a while, at least, the two men smoked -in peace. - - * * * * * - -Blissfully happy was the condition that Leslie told herself that she -was in that evening. They had assured her after the council of war -behind closed doors that everything would come out right. And now, last -but not least, Beekman was alone with her and telling her the same -thing. - -"The verdict is ridiculous," he said. "Public prejudice, that's all. -The Appellate Division will fill it full of holes." - -"You're sure?" she asked, still a trifle dubious. - -Beekman smiled confidently. - -"Look here, Leslie," he returned consolingly, "lots of rich men have -been indicted and tried lately, haven't they? You haven't heard of any -of them having been imprisoned so far, have you? It's just a bit of -hysteria, but the Appellate courts don't get hysterical. We'll win out -upon appeal." - -"There's--there's something, Eliot, I wanted to say to you." She -hesitated a moment, and then went on: "If I'd been on that jury and a -murderer had been on trial, after hearing your defence, no matter what -I knew your man had done, I would have acquitted him, I know. I think -you're wonderful!" - -"If only our jury had felt as you feel, Leslie," he responded soberly. -"If only they had acquitted," --and he was looking into her eyes -now,--"why, things would be different to-night, so far as you and I are -concerned." - -The girl flushed prettily, but did not dare to meet his glance. - -"We're going to fight it to a finish, aren't we?" she faltered. - -"That's the compact," he returned. "You're right--we'll fight it to a -finish--first." - -"To see you, Miss Wilkinson." The voice was that of Jeffries, and he -was handing her a card. Leslie took it and, turning slightly pale, -started to leave the room. Before going out, however, she stopped and -made her excuse to Eliot, begging him to wait until she returned. In -the hall she asked Jeffries where her caller was to be found; she was -told that he was in the music-room. In front of the door she paused and -considered a moment. Not that she was not genuinely grateful for all -that Leech had done for her father that afternoon, but out of all that -day's experiences one thing clung to her memory more persistently than -any other: the audacious admiration in the glance of the man who had -spoken to her in the court-room and was now waiting for her. - -However, she swept into the room and held out her hand. - -"Miss Wilkinson," said Leech, meeting her half way and holding her hand -in his longer than necessary, "I had to come here to explain my part -in your father's prosecution. Personally I am not responsible for it. I -am a mere machine. Murgatroyd presses the button and we--I start up and -go through the day's work, willy nilly. I wanted you to know, as I said -before, that I am not responsible." - -Never once did the man's eyes leave the girl's face; his look was one -of bold admiration. He wanted the dainty girl before him, wanted the -things that she stood for: the ease, the excitement, the power that -great wealth brings. Besides, he was assured of something that Beekman -did not even suspect, that Leslie, even, didn't know, and that was that -Peter V. Wilkinson had somewhere millions upon millions, and that the -man who married Leslie Wilkinson would sip the nectar of the gods from -the first tolling of the marriage bell. - -"I know, Mr. Leech, you merely did your duty," she answered somewhat -coldly, lowering her eyes under his frank gaze. "We have intelligence -enough for that. We're not altogether narrow here." - -"I wanted to be sure that you understood my position," he proceeded, -"to feel that my sympathies are with your father--with you. Yes, to -the extent that were I a free agent, and not bound by my oath to the -People, I'd turn in and work my fingers to the bone for your father." -He moved a little closer to her, and added significantly, "for you." - -When Leslie returned to Beekman, singularly enough, she said nothing to -Beekman of the Assistant District Attorney's brief visit; nor later did -she mention it to her father. It would have disturbed Beekman; it would -have pleased Wilkinson; but she could not know that. - - - - -XIII - - -It was a beautiful day in the early part of Summer. On the deck of -the _Marchioness_, only a short time ago put in commission, Peter V. -Wilkinson was lying back in his steamer chair, luxuriously. New York -was experiencing one of the season's first hot days, but under the -awning of the after deck of the _Marchioness_, and out of sight of -land as she was, a delicious ocean breeze made life worth living, so -it seemed, at any rate, to the two men sitting there, ever and anon -calling to the steward, and refreshing themselves with Wilkinson's -choicest wines and liqueurs with which the yacht was stocked. - -"Do you know," remarked Wilkinson with a short laugh, as he threw over -the side an unfinished cigar and lighted a fresh one, "I ought to have -taken Leslie's original advice--ought to have sailed away on the -_Marchioness_ when they indicted me." - -"You'd be in the thick of the trouble, Peter," returned his counsel -sagely. - -"Huh!" grunted Wilkinson, "don't know but I'll do it now, and take you -with me, Colonel." - -"Don't care if you do. It would end my troubles." - -Wilkinson tapped the Colonel on the knee. - -"Tell me, Colonel, how much money does that blatherskite get a year?" - -"What blatherskite?" - -"Gilchrist--the chap that had the nerve to sentence me." - -Morehead told him; Wilkinson opened wide his eyes. - -"You don't mean to tell me that's all he makes--his salary?" - -The Colonel nodded. - -"And do you mean to tell me that a man who only gets that much a year -has the power to put away a man like me--can do a thing like that? What -are we coming to in the United States?" - -The Colonel laughed heartily. - -"That man Gilchrist is a marked man from now on," went on Wilkinson. -"His degradation has begun. He sentenced me all right; and I've -sentenced him. I'll see to it that he's hounded out of New York. Any -man that tries to set himself up before me--may stand up for five -minutes or so, but he'll go down as sure as death and taxes. Every man -that's prosecuted me, touched me, laid his hands on me physically or -figuratively, is going to get it. I've got a heavy hand, Morehead, and -they're going to feel it. They're going to know it's me. Gilchrist will -get his, first." - -The lawyer sniffed the breeze and closed his eyes in ecstasy. - -"Oh, come now, Peter ...! I haven't enjoyed a day like this in years." - -"You don't suppose I brought you along to have you enjoy yourself?" -bluntly. - -"No, I wouldn't credit you with that nobility of character, Peter. But -I'm here no matter what your purpose may have been, and I propose to -enjoy myself." - -The multi-millionaire received this remark in silence. Colonel Morehead -was one of the few independent men he had ever met. Wilkinson could -never quite make him out, and therefore was afraid of him. As a -matter of fact, Morehead's code was a simple one: he merely did his -duty towards his clients in his own way; and if they didn't like it, -that was their affair and not his. His acquired indifference was his -greatest capital. - -"At any rate," growled his host, "I suppose I'm paying you by the -minute all the time you're here." - -"Presume you are, Peter," sweetly answered the Colonel; "and that's a -pleasure, too, to both of us, I'm sure." - -"Business before pleasure is my motto, you know," resumed Wilkinson. -"I brought you out here to have a quiet talk where even Flomerfelt or -Patrick Durand cannot hear it. I haven't been able to pin you down -to my case since my conviction. Look here, Morehead," he went on -appealingly, "we'll reverse this sentence a hundred times over, eh?" - -The Colonel, who had been sprawling lazily across his steamer chair, at -this drew himself up to a sitting posture. - -"Now look here, Wilkinson, we've appealed this case, and we've filed a -bond, and you're out on bail...." - -"And we'll win out on appeal?" - -"I was about to remark," went on the lawyer, quietly, "that your case -will go first to the Appellate Division, then to the Court of Appeals, -then--maybe to the United States Supreme Court. Then a few certificates -of reasonable doubt, motions, stays, etc. It will take months, months, -even if they rush it through. There's no hurry about discussing it; we -can take our time." - -Wilkinson was about to speak, but Morehead raised his hand. - -"Since we're talking business, Peter, I may as well get to it, so that -you can enjoy your pleasure afterward." He got up, yawned and stretched -himself. Then looking Peter straight in the eye, he added: "What I -wanted to impress upon you is, that after our last card is played, this -conviction and this sentence are going to be----" - -"Reversed, as sure as guns!" cried out Wilkinson. - -"This conviction and this sentence," went on the lawyer, ignoring -the interruption, "will be affirmed." And so saying he leaned back in -his chair and puffed away contentedly. A moment later he added: "Now, -Peter, business is over, let's enjoy ourselves. What do you call that -thing yonder--a schooner or a hermaphrodite brig?" - -His wealthy client swaggered to the fore once more. - -"Do you mean to tell me that a man who's worth a hundred million is -actually going to serve ten years in State's Prison at hard labour? -That's nonsense!" - -"I mean precisely what I say," said Morehead, his voice ringing -prophetically, "that this verdict and this sentence are going to be -affirmed." - -"I'll spend five--ten million to reverse it." - -"Spend it, then, and I'll help you, and when you're through you'll know -that I spoke the truth--affirmance, not reversal." He stopped abruptly, -then rising and plunging his hands deep in his trousers pockets, he -suddenly put the question to him: "I wish you'd tell me, Peter, whom -your daughter is going to marry? I'm interested." - -"What the devil has that got to do with this case?" - -"By the way," went on Morehead, ignoring purposely the other's -outburst, "where is your daughter now?" - -"Home." - -"Then you'd better swing the _Marchioness_ about. When you get home you -can find out if you do not already know." - -"How should I know? There's a dozen cubs hanging around--none of them -good enough for her. Leslie's got to marry well." - -"Has she? A fine chance she has, with her father a convict under a -prison sentence! Come, come, man, why don't you give your captain -orders? I want to know whom this girl of yours is going to marry--and -right away." - -Wilkinson chuckled. - -"Might send a wireless...." - -"You'd get a most remarkable answer, Peter." Morehead was now striding -up and down, nervous, energetic strides they were, for he had shaken -off his tendency to enjoyment. "I say," he went on, "I haven't heard -you mention a word about the political situation so far; you're usually -pretty enthusiastic." - -"How can a man be enthusiastic about politics when he's got the sword -of Damocles over his head." - -"You're going to open fire on Gilchrist, aren't you?" - -"Sure." - -"That's politics," said Morehead, "and now that we're on the subject, -I want you to do me a favour. Wilkinson, I want my man put up for -governor this year, and I want your backing, you understand--your -influence, your money, all to back my man. Can I count on you, Peter?" - -Wilkinson thought a moment before answering. - -"Who is your man?" - -"Um," smiled Morehead, "I don't know that--yet." - - * * * * * - -A short time after Wilkinson's return from the yachting trip, Leslie -received a message that her father would like to see her. She found -him with an unlighted cigar between his fingers sitting in his big -arm-chair in the Den, gazing into space, his face like a mask. - -"You sent for me, father, and I came," she said, entering, a faint -smile on her lips. - -"I sent for you," he told her in a level unemotional voice, "to find -out something--something that you can tell me if you will. Strange -things are happening nowadays. There are matters I'd like to settle -before----" - -"Before what?" she asked, startled. - -"Before I plunge into this appeal and forget everything else," he -answered easily; but now with just enough anxiety in his manner -to alarm her, he repeated: "There's something that I've got to -know--something that only you can tell me, girlie." - -"I'll tell you anything, father," she answered softly. - -Wilkinson caught her by the hand and drew her to him, asking so -suddenly that she started: "Who's the man you're going to marry?" - -The girl disengaged herself from her father's embrace. The blood rushed -to her face, and she laughed a little uneasily. After a moment she -answered: - -"How can I tell! He--nobody's asked me. Has anybody asked you, father?" - -Wilkinson chuckled over her reply, though her evasiveness slightly -irritated him. - -"Come," he said, "is it Berry Broughton, or Larry Pendexter, or -Montgomery?" Her father rattled on without giving her a chance to -answer, the girl's face growing more and more scarlet as he proceeded. - -"It must be Eliot Beekman or Tommy Cadwalader," he declared, searching -her face. But still Leslie made no answer, though there was the same -embarrassed flush upon her countenance. - -"Well, can't you tell me who it is?" he questioned impatiently. - -"I don't know," she protested, "really, I do not." - -"But I've got to know," persisted her father. - -But whether she could not or would not tell him, his efforts were -unsuccessful, for she merely fled in a panic from the room. So that it -was in a voice whose tone was one of defeat that he called out: - -"You can come now, Colonel!" - -From the heavy curtains Colonel Morehead emerged--a grim figure lying -in ambush, he seemed, as he asked: - -"Well! who's the lucky man?" - -"Blamed if I could find out." - -"But I did. Eliot Beekman is the lucky man, Peter." - -"How do you know?" - -"You may think you know men, but, at any rate, you don't know women, -Peter. I merely watched her face." - -"So did I," spluttered Wilkinson, "but I didn't...." - -"Peter, you asked me the name of my candidate for governor," said -Morehead himself in a manner that suggested that he was quite ready to -get down to business. - -"Well?" - -"His name is Eliot Beekman." - -Peter V. Wilkinson looked his surprise. - -"And why Beekman?" - -"One reason is because he's going to marry your daughter. I was -satisfied of that, even before I heard this interview. But there are -other reasons: he's a partisan; he's taken sides with you; the boy -believes in you; and as long as your daughter sticks to him he's bound -to believe in you, and he'll stick to you, too. Now, Peter, do you see -why I've picked him for governor, and why I want your backing?" - -"There's one thing I don't quite see, and that is your real reason for -wanting him for governor. Tell me that, will you, Colonel?" - -Colonel Morehead took his cigar from his mouth, and thrusting his face -close to Wilkinson's, he said, speaking very distinctly so that his -client should not misunderstand his meaning: - -"Because, my dear Peter, after you've spent your millions on appeals -and bribes and legal curlyques--when you find at the end of the race -that a ten-year term is still staring you in the face, it will be a -deuced comfortable thing, Peter, to know that up in Albany you've got a -friend, a partisan, a son-in-law _who's got the power to pardon_." - -There was a pregnant pause in which both men watched each other with a -curious expression on their faces. Finally Wilkinson rose and strode -around the end of the desk, and holding out his hand, he said: - -"Colonel, I've been curt and disagreeable in my talk to you. I want to -say now that I take back everything, except the good things, that I've -said. You're a wonder--a perfect wonder!" - -"Remember, I'm to manage this campaign," warned the Colonel. -"Everything will be done from the outside. No one, not even Leslie nor -Beekman, must know a word about it. You promise?" - -"I promise to keep my hands off," agreed Wilkinson, but the next -instant he added: "Come to think of it, though, I don't see why we -have to do it. I'm sure that my conviction will never get that far. If -necessary I'll buy up every judge from here to Washington." - - - - -XIV - - -Labouring evidently under the stress of some new and strange -excitement, a man strode swiftly through the darkness of the night. -He was a tall, spare individual, clothed from neck to heel in a long, -loose raincoat that clung closely to his body, though the ends flapped -freely in the wind. It was a dark, stormy night early in November, and -although the storm pelted his uplifted face as he sped along, he never -heeded the elements; nor did he notice that few pedestrians were abroad -on a night that, had the weather been more propitious, would have been -a gala night. As it was, the crowds were under cover. Street-cars were -loaded to their limit, taxi-cabs and hansoms by the hundreds passed -and repassed, so that any time he might have escaped this drenching -by lifting his finger. But the storm, after all, was what he wanted; -it cooled and steadied him; and as he went along he laughed gently to -himself from time to time. - -"I got away from them, all right," he murmured, half-aloud. - -"Them" had been a mob of men at the Barristers' Club. They had -surrounded him suddenly with outstretched hands, dragging him -unmercifully about. But at last, though this demonstration had made -him happy, he had torn himself away to enjoy a greater happiness--one -that meant all the world to him. - -At the foot of a long hill he stopped and glanced toward its summit. To -him, somehow, it seemed typical of his own career--a slow climb, but -with a vision of glory at the top. And before he knew it he had mounted -the summit and was waiting to be admitted into the presence of the one -woman he loved. - -"This way, sir," Jeffries whispered in his ear. - -With a hasty movement Beekman flung off his dripping raincoat, dashed -the drops from his face with a flirt of his handkerchief, and the next -instant he was standing face to face with Leslie, who came toward him, -smiling as she exclaimed: - -"Where have you been hiding? I've kept the wires going all this -afternoon and evening trying to find out about you." - -"Leslie," he answered, his face ruddy with the swift walk and dampness, -"they piled on top of me down at the club, but I got away from -them--nearly tore the clothes from me, the beggars! You know what's -happened, don't you?" - -For answer she looked at him critically, bursting out with: - -"Indeed I do! Stand off a moment--let me look at you--Governor -Beekman." - -He laughed soberly. - -"It sounds fine, doesn't it?" - -Leslie continued to gaze at him with pride. - -"Do you know, Leslie," he went on, "I can't realise it--can't -understand why Broderick--why the organisation picked me of all men for -the office. Wanted a clean man, they said--the wave of reform demanded -it, and they didn't know anyone who would fill the bill as well as I." - -Leslie sobered. - -"It's destiny," she said. "You were meant to go up, up, up...." - -"Stop!" he called out with a well-feigned frightened look on his face. -"I'm high enough now." - -"Wouldn't it be fine," she continued with girlish enthusiasm, "if, -after this, you could be United States Senator, Vice-President, and -after that possibly----" - -"The Big Job?" He laughed. "Why, I haven't even been sworn in yet." He -stopped suddenly. "But I want to see your father, Leslie," his voice -losing its note of gaiety, "I want to tell him----" - -Leslie, too, left laughter behind her. - -"Father's in his Den," she said quietly, "smoking his quota of big -black cigars. The poor old dear feels pretty blue. The Appellate -Division decision...." - -On his way to the Den Beekman stopped and turned round, saying: - -"I can't for the life of me understand, Leslie, why they affirmed that -sentence. If they only half read Colonel Morehead's brief, or even -mine, they surely would have been convinced.... What do you suppose it -is--whose influence is behind this thing?" - -Leslie shrugged her shoulders. - -"Father says that the National Banks have set their face against the -Trust Companies--and it looks as if he were to be the victim of the -clash." - -"Ground between the upper and nether mill-stones," mused Beekman, -shaking his head in genuine anguish of mind. Then he stiffened and -his eyes flashed. "It will never stand, Leslie; nor can I see how -Ougheltree of the National Bank clique can have any weight with the -courts. But at any rate, when this thing gets up at Albany before -the Court of Appeals, all local influence will fade away. Peter V. -Wilkinson will get justice there. The other side are fighting only for -money, but with us, Durand, Morehead and myself, why it's a fight for -life, almost--and we'll beat 'em out." - -Beekman's outburst took Leslie quite by storm. She had never seen him -so roused, so strong, so fine. - -"You make me sorry that you're Governor, Eliot," she said, her heart -beating fast, "for I suppose now you're unable to be my father's -counsel--or does a governor still practise law?" - -Beekman's head drooped. - -"You're right," he said at length, "I suppose I'm out of the fight. But -the others are just as determined to win." - -"How I wish father could have heard you a moment ago!" cried the girl, -wistfully. "He would then understand what genuine loyalty is. He thinks -every man he knows, and every woman, too, I guess, save me, is a time -server. Every man has his price, according to his idea. I don't believe -he thinks that he has a genuine friend in all the world--not one. Isn't -it hopeless to suspect everyone like that?" - -"How can he help it?" returned Beekman, pointedly. "Just what I told -you about the rich American girl--how is she going to know, understand -the motives of men ...?" - -Leslie's face went suddenly white; then she suggested almost too -hastily, so she reflected later: - -"If you want to see my father, remember he's in the Den." And an -instant later Beekman found himself standing in the presence of Peter -V. Wilkinson. - -In his exuberance of joy Wilkinson almost flung himself at Beekman. He -grasped the other's hand with both of his, then clapped him heavily on -the shoulder. - -"Governor, my boy, you made a grand fight--a great fight! You're the -right man in the right place! Proud of you, I am." - -"Now about the Appellate Division ..." began Beekman, but Wilkinson -would have none of it. - -"Not on your life!" said he. "Never mind me! No troubles to-night--only -wine and wassail. All Governor and nothing else. The returns are all -in, aren't they? No contests--nothing doubtful--sure thing--you're -Governor and no mistake?" - -"No mistake, Mr. Wilkinson," smiled Beekman. "It's all right." - -For an instant Beekman hesitated and glanced about the room as though -for inspiration, then his eyes settled down once more on Peter V. - -"Mr. Wilkinson," he stammered, "I'm a bit old-fashioned, I suppose, -all wrong, from the modern point of view, but I've got something on my -mind--something----" - -"Out with it," laughed the older man. - -The Governor-elect gulped. - -"It's--your--your daughter Leslie," he went on, still floundering. "I -want to marry her--thought I'd ask you first." - -"Ask me first?" exploded Peter V. Wilkinson. "Haven't you asked her -yet?" - -"Her money--I've always been afraid of people with a lot of money, -and----" - -"You needn't be afraid of me," gurgled Wilkinson; "I haven't any left." - -"But the principle is the same," insisted Beekman. "I wanted to be -sure, that's all." - -"Suppose I refuse?" - -"Oh, in that case, I should ask her anyway--and get her too, I think. -I'm merely trying to do my duty by you, don't you see." - -Wilkinson raised his hand and brought it down heavily upon the -Governor's shoulder once more. - -"Governor," he said, "you've always done right by me, and I believe you -always will--I've that much faith in you. As for the rest, I don't know -of any man that I'd rather trust my daughter Leslie to, than you." - -Beekman's blood rushed tumultuously through his veins. - -"I don't deserve----" he began quite formally, but Wilkinson cut him -off. - -"You understand," said he, searching his face, "that your being -Governor makes no difference to me. I give you Leslie because I like -you--I think you're a man." - -Beekman left the room intoxicated with success. Indeed such was the -magnetism of Peter V. that Beekman left his presence, like many a man -before him, with a feeling that he would be willing to face death, if -necessary, in Wilkinson's defence. - -The girl was waiting where he had left her. - -"Leslie," he began and got no further, for the words that he had -planned to say would not come to him. Finally he stammered out: "It's -this way, you see. We're equals now--that is, you're the daughter of -Peter V. Wilkinson and I'm the Governor of the State. Consequently I -dare--oh, I want you--there!" - -Leslie tried to pass him, but he was too quick for her. He caught her -and drew her close to him, and for one instant his lips met hers. Then -she wrenched herself away. - -"Tell me what you want of me, Eliot, quick," she panted, a new, wild, -haunting expression in her eyes. - -"My wife," he stammered, swiftly advancing toward her. "My wife--I know -that you--that you----" - -Her eyes sought the pattern of the Kirzan underneath their feet. - -"You know nothing," she said, her hands tightly clenched, the colour -coming and receding on her face. - -"I--I saw it in your eyes," he pleaded. - -"You saw nothing in my eyes," she answered, speaking very determinedly. - -Beekman paused. Presently he drew from his pocket a trinket and held it -out. - -"Leslie," he whispered, "perhaps I've been presumptuous, but you know I -have always told you that I am old-fashioned. I got this for you." - -"It's just like you," she said, taking the trinket for an instant. -"There's not a man in all New York who would have thought of buying the -ring before--perhaps I like you for it, though." - -"But what will you think of me when I tell you that I had an -inscription put on the inner circle? You had better read it, hadn't -you?" - -For an instant Leslie felt herself weakening as she saw their initials -on the ring. With difficulty she restrained her tears, and it was with -a sad little smile that she now handed him back the ring. - -Then she shook her head. - -"Eliot," she said in an unnatural voice, "I'm not blaming you. You did -only what you thought you had the right to do. More than that, I may -have led you on. But it can never be. No, don't come near me, please, -I mean it. You don't know; you can't understand; things happen very -suddenly, sometimes. I can't marry you, Eliot, that's all. I can't ... -I can't...." - -Beekman's face became scarlet, for there was something of the -determination of her father in her voice. - -"You've got to," he insisted, for he refused to believe that she was -not for him. - -But still she retreated before him. - -"I can't talk about it," she repeated wearily, stubbornly. - -"Will you tell me why?" he asked, forcing himself to be calm. - -Leslie gave him a quick glance. His question came as a relief to her. -She seemed on the point of answering it. - -"Yes," she began, and then pressed her hand against her lips. "I -mean, no--I can't tell you anything except--that the whole thing is -absolutely impossible. You would not understand if I told you. I should -never want you to understand it." - -"Why wouldn't you?" - -"Because the instant that you understood it, you would find that you -couldn't understand it," she told him enigmatically. "And yet," she -murmured as though to herself, "it's all so clear, so plain to me." - -Beekman quickly caught her by the wrist. Her hand still clenched -itself, and he could feel her nerves throbbing as with pain. - -"Your father tells me it's all right," he went on, his voice growing -hoarser as he proceeded, for he couldn't see that he was making any -headway with the girl; "he approves, gives his consent, all that sort -of thing. He seemed glad, friendly. It seemed to be what he wanted. Why -do you hesitate?" - -"I don't hesitate," she answered, though uncertainly. All the time she -was praying that he would let her go. She wanted to escape. All that -she wished for now was to get to her room at the top of the house, -where in solitude she could rest and weep. - -"My father," she resumed, "knows nothing--nothing of my reasons. This -is a matter of my own. Even he couldn't understand...." - -Beekman dropped her hand and said: - -"Leslie, tell me one thing: Is there some one else?" - -Leslie looked down without immediately replying and gradually grew -pale. Then with one of her quick changes she looked up and her eyes met -his in a clear, straight glance. - -"Yes," she said, tossing her head in the air, "there is some one else." - -"Who?" he demanded in a voice that was distinctly authoritative. - -The girl drew herself up to her full height and quietly reminded him -that he had no right to ask the question. But when Beekman had gone, -Leslie's face showed a peculiar change; the hardness dropped from it, -and was replaced by a look of intense sadness. - -At the door of the Den she stopped to bid her father good-night. - -"Well," he called out cheerfully, motioning her to come in, "it's all -over then?" - -Leslie seated herself upon the knee he offered her. She was pale and -very tired. - -"Yes, it's all over--all over." - -Wilkinson was watching her closely. - -"You seem to take it hard, girlie," he returned, puzzled. - -"Yes," she sighed. - -He drew her girlish head down against his breast. - -"He's a bully boy for you, Leslie. Mrs. Governor Beekman, eh? Not bad! -It's a good thing to have money, but it's a great thing to be a Mrs. -Governor, too, and especially when the Governor happens to be a man and -not one of those cheap politicians. I congratulate you, little one." - -"You never used to think much of him," she faltered. - -"True. But I didn't know him. I didn't know the stuff he was made of. -Colonel Morehead sized him up right from the start. But he's the man -for me, now, Beekman is, and no mistake." - -Leslie closed her eyes and whispered softly, her hand creeping about -his neck: - -"Good-night, father." - -The next moment she rose and slowly started to the door and then as -slowly came back, thinking to herself: - -"I might as well get it over once for all, so that to-morrow there'll -be nothing to tell, nothing to do but to take up the routine of life -again." And when she reached her father's side, she said bravely but -with a little sigh: - -"Father, I'm not going to marry Eliot Beekman." - -"Not going to----" spluttered Wilkinson. For the first time in months -his colour fled. "Didn't he--hasn't he asked you?" - -"Yes, and I refused him." - -"What?" he bellowed. "Why?" - -"I had my own reasons," she replied, never flinching as her father -glowered upon her from his height. - -"A woman's reason, I'll wager. What's the trouble? Some other chap?" - -"No." - -"Nobody else, eh? Then, what's up? Don't you like Beekman?" - -"Yes." - -"Oh, you like him, but don't love him, that is, well enough to marry -him. I don't care so much about the love. We'll leave love out of the -question--it's too ticklish a subject." - -"I like him too well to marry him," she answered earnestly. - -"A woman's reason all right enough," muttered her father. "Talk United -States, girlie. What's the trouble?" - -Once more she clung to him, and said very tenderly, now: - -"Father, won't you rest content, won't you let me stay with you always, -always taking care of you, doing for you--there's no one else...." She -caught his big hand in hers. "I want to go down the years with you, -hand in hand, never leaving you, father--never...." She choked suddenly. - -"You can do that as Beekman's wife," he persisted. - -"I shall not be Beekman's wife," she insisted, strangling a sigh. - -"I want to know the reason," he demanded, with that veiled threat in -his tone which never failed of its results. - -"Will you forgive if I tell you?" - -"I won't forgive you if you don't!" - -Leslie drew herself away and leaned against the door as though for -support, for strength. - -"Father, Eliot Beekman wouldn't ask me to marry him until he had made -a position? for himself, had something to offer me. He has said it a -thousand times. He's got pride--too much pride, it seems to me. But -I've got pride, too. Months ago I would have married Eliot--he didn't -know that--any time he asked me. It's got beyond me now. He's got -everything to offer me, I've got nothing in return to offer him." - -"Nonsense, child! You've got money," protested her father, puzzled, "at -least you have so long as I don't jump the bail." - -"Oh, how I wish you would!" she cried, startled into sudden ecstasy -by the thought. Then she went on: "Money, what is money to me? What -was it to Eliot? Nothing save an obstacle. That isn't it; you haven't -understood; and to tell you I've got to hurt--I've got to say things -that--oh, don't misunderstand me, please...." - -"I'll misunderstand you if you don't go on," blurted out Wilkinson, -unfeelingly. "Quick, now!" - -"Why won't you understand, father, that it's because he has everything -to offer, while I have nothing. He's been given the highest office that -the State has to give--a position that he thought would entitle him to -me--and I, who am I ...?" - -"You're the woman he wants, the woman he's earned, girlie," said her -father, his voice softening. - -"I am the daughter of a convict," she went on swiftly, her tones -cutting into the air like frost. - -Her father stared at her aghast for an instant. Then he slowly -returned to his seat at his desk and slumped into it heavily, and -groaned. - -"Ye gods, but you're harsh!" he cried. - -"You wanted to know why," she answered, "and now you do not -understand--you're everything to me, everything, father. But the -reason--the world, the people of whom Eliot is going to be governor, -they look only on the record, and I'm not his equal. Upon me rests this -taint--I'm not complaining--I'm glad to stand by you, father.... But I -have pride--how can I, with this disgrace upon us, give myself to Eliot -Beekman?" - -"Nonsense, girl," said Wilkinson, pulling himself together, "I'll get -clear all right." - -"When you do," she declared with a faint smile, "and if he then asks -me, I'll take him. If he does not...." A sigh of misery escaped her. - -"You're a little fool! Confound it, Leslie, this thing was all cut -and----" He checked himself suddenly, remembering his promise to the -Colonel. - -"Cut and dried," she echoed in surprise. - -"Yes, this National Bank conspiracy," he mumbled in confusion, "the -courts here in the city are backing them up. But up there in Albany, -I'll get free, you'll see." And now with a sudden change of manner, he -continued: "Look here, Leslie, I've got reasons, too--reasons a darned -sight better than yours, why I want you to marry Eliot Beekman. Never -mind what they are. The fact is, I want you to be settled--I want it -all fixed.... I give you my word--the Colonel will give you his word -that I shall get clear. We know it, we've got it fixed.... It's all -right--there can't be a slip up. And now, besides my freedom, which -I'm going to get, there's only one thing in the world that I want, and -that is that you marry Eliot Beekman. Good heavens, girl, can't you -see--don't you see that this thing is vital to me? I'm no woman, and -I don't speak at random. You've got to marry Eliot Beekman; if you -don't----" - -"But I can't," she returned simply; and from this decision there seemed -no appeal. "I can't accept him now, father." - -Leslie rose and made a movement to go. But Wilkinson, feeling as though -the hangman's noose was already settling about his neck, snatched up -the receiver on his desk with one hand, while with the other he made an -authoritative gesture for the girl to resume her seat. - -"Is Mr. Flomerfelt in the house?" he called through the instrument. - -A look of pained surprise and annoyance at once crossed Leslie's face. -Heedless of it Wilkinson spoke again. - -"In the library, you say? Give me that room and be quick about it." - -There was a pause in which the eyes of both father and daughter -plainly showed to each other the strength of the will that lay behind -them. - -"Hello--Hello," called Wilkinson, "is that you, Flomerfelt?" - -"............" - -"Look here, Flomerfelt, had you an idea that Beekman----" Then, -parenthetically, to Leslie, who was beating against her father's -intentions to betray her confidences with as much success as a bird -beating against the bars of its cage: "Of course, I'll tell him. Do -you think for one moment that the wishes of a silly girl like you will -be allowed to stand in the way of our well-laid plans--not much!" -Then through the phone: "Yes, this is Peter V. and.... Well, he has, -and Leslie has refused him.... What's that?... Yes, he's gone.... No, -she's here with me.... All right, I will." And with that he hung up the -receiver, and turning round and facing the girl he announced: "Now, -young woman, you will listen to my final word in this matter." But that -word was not spoken, for at that moment there came a knock at the door -and Jeffries, entering, announced a visitor for Miss Wilkinson. - - - - -XV - - -There was a flush on the face of Elinor Ilingsworth as she left the -office of J. Newton Leech. For the hundred and first time, perhaps, -she had crept into the presence of the Assistant District Attorney, -trusting that he might have some good news for her. Her father was her -only relative; she had no friends in New York; and her money was nearly -gone. At first, when she had gone to the Tombs to see her father, the -authorities had permitted her to have her talks with him in the counsel -room, where Leslie had seen her father, but as the weeks passed into -months, things changed, and it ended in Elinor's sitting on the outside -of a cell, holding her father's hand between the bars. And as they sat -there with bowed heads her father had told her, not once, but a hundred -times, that he was guiltless of the murder of Roy Pallister. And Elinor -believed and felt that some day the truth would be known. Every hour, -therefore, when it was possible she spent in going to and fro, between -the offices of Worth Higgins and Assistant District Attorney Leech. -Singularly enough, she received more encouragement from the latter than -the former; indeed, Higgins gave her but little hope. Nor did he tell -her that a wealthy newspaper, for ulterior purposes, was employing -him to fight for her father. Enthusiastic always at the crisis of a -litigation, Worth Higgins, for some reason or other, had become cool, -surly, sharp to Elinor, as time went on. Her visits annoyed him; he -rebuffed her as often as he could. Leech, on the other hand, had been -by no means chary of his promises to help her through her troubles; -on the contrary, he was ever profuse, when the woman in question was -pretty, and Elinor Ilingsworth was unquestionably pretty. - -"I like to come here after seeing that old bear," Elinor had often said -to the Assistant District Attorney. "Mr. Higgins is beginning to hate -the sight of me." - -"You see that I do not," invariably would be his answer; and, waving -her to a seat, he would take one beside her and the two would chat. - -Elinor was forced to admit that Leech became nicer as time went on. -Always he suggested new hopes, new speculations, for he saw that -it took but little to encourage her. He explained to her carefully -the quasi-judicial nature of his office, how the District Attorney -in theory was neither for nor against the criminal, but was always -anxious, ready and willing to learn the truth. Soon he began to note -that the girl grew shabbier in appearance day after day; that her face -was thinning, and that her eyes were dark and lustrous. - -"I'll do what I can," he had told her time and time again, his pulse -quickening as he felt the pressure of her hand. - -And Elinor would go forth, refreshed and strengthened; while Leech, -settling himself comfortably back in his chair, would light a cigar, -and fall to wondering when and what the end of it all would be. - -"A pretty girl," he often reflected, "a mighty pretty girl. And, oh, -such eyes!" - -It was upon just such an occasion as this that Elinor went back to -the Tombs more than ordinarily encouraged, and sought her father's -presence. She sat down beside him and poured out to him her hopes. When -she had finished he bent over her slender hand and his mouth quivered -while the hot tears dropped from his working face. - -"We've lost," he told her, in a voice filled with despair. "I heard it -only a few moments ago." - -"It can't be true," she replied incredulously, and with just the -glimmer of a smile on her face. "Why, I've just left Mr. Leech, and he -said nothing of it." - -But nevertheless it was true. The old man handed her Higgins' letter, -which she read; it verified what her father had told her. - -"I've worked so hard," she faltered, leaning her head against the bars -and sobbing silently as though her heart would break, "so very, very -hard." - -Ilingsworth drew a long sigh--a sigh that had behind it the regret of -years. - -"It's all my fault," he said through the tears that rolled down his -cheeks, "for being such a fool as to----" - -"As to----" she repeated slowly. - -"As to do anything at all," he finished. "Everything, everything I've -done," he continued sadly, "has been the act of a fool. And now I'm -going to die a fool's death. I wouldn't care if it wasn't for you, -child. But you--how are you going to get along? How are you going to -get along without money?" he concluded, breaking down completely. - -"I have enough," she answered consolingly; "don't mind me." - -But in truth Elinor Ilingsworth had only enough money to pay for a -sleeping place, and was at her wits' end to obtain sufficient food. - -"I'm all right, all right, father," she kept on insisting to her -father's upbraiding of himself, now smiling through the tears which -with difficulty she kept back, now patting his hand affectionately, -always cheering him up. - -"You're a brave girl," he told her, when their interview was over, and -pressed her hand for a long time to his lips. - -As Elinor was about to leave the Tombs, a young woman looking very much -embarrassed slowly emerged from a recess in which there was a crowd of -waiting visitors, and came towards her, saying: - -"You are Miss Ilingsworth?" - -Elinor shot a quick, distrustful glance toward the intruder, who, -somehow, seemed very queenly to her, although there was nothing -expensive about the woman's garments. She was dressed in simple black -clothes. Elinor had hear of Tombs' angels, and presently decided that -the woman must be one of them. - -"Yes," she answered, wondering what she wanted of her. - -"You don't know me," went on the woman, "but I have heard of you -from--from friends of mine--that is, the Wilkinsons." - -"You refer to the Peter V. Wilkinsons, I suppose," returned Elinor, -icily; and without waiting for an answer added: "They are no friends -of mine, and you must excuse me.... You can't possibly have anything -of interest to say to me," she finished, and started to go. But the -stranger, advancing in such a way as to bar her passage, pleaded for a -hearing. - -"I know that," she explained. "But I merely wanted to get your -attention, wanted some excuse for my interference. I wanted to help -you, if I could. I know more about New York--all about New York. I can -assist you in many ways. Won't you let me?" she concluded insistently. - -Elinor was all attention. - -"You mean that you can help my father?" she inquired. - -The woman appeared to hesitate. At length she whispered "Yes." - -"But how can you?" - -"In many ways. I might be able to find some clue--anyhow, I want to -help--him, of course, but particularly you." - -Elinor looked dubious; nevertheless she suggested: - -"Perhaps you'll come back and talk to him." - -Her new acquaintance shook her head. - -"Not now. But isn't there something I can do for you? Don't you -need----" - -"Money?" Elinor said, taking the words out of the other's mouth. -"We have money, thank you," and added half hurriedly, half in -embarrassment: "Will you excuse me if I leave you. I have an engagement -with our lawyer, and I'm late." - -The stranger laid her hand on Elinor's sleeve, and persisted: - -"But can't I come and see you--won't you tell me where you live?" - -There was something in the tone and action of the woman that Elinor -resented, though she didn't know just what it was. - -"Really, I don't know what to say." - -"I'm sorry you're suspicious of me. I wish I could prove to you that -I'm sincere. Please tell me where I can see you." - -"To-morrow, then, here," was Elinor's answer, and finally tore herself -away. - -The moment she entered Leech's office, he broke out with: - -"You haven't lunched, I know. Come on, Miss Ilingsworth, we'll lunch -together." - -"I can't do that, Mr. Leech, I've lunched already," she told him. But -Leech saw clearly the falsity of this statement in the pallor of the -girl's skin, in the hunger in her eyes. And, in the end, as he had -planned, she consented to go with him. As they sat at one of Raphael's -small tables she confided to him how she had been accosted by a strange -woman. At first Leech seemed to regard the incident as not worthy of -attention; but on second thoughts he warned Elinor not to see the woman -again. And his motive in doing this was by no means a disinterested -one, for so clearly and faithfully had Elinor reported the conversation -between the stranger and herself, that the Assistant District Attorney -could not fail to believe that Elinor had, in reality, found a friend. - -"One has got to be so careful here in New York of everybody," he -remarked with an admirable assumption of solicitude. - -But true to her promise, the woman came to the Tombs the next day. And -on seeing Elinor she came quickly toward her with outstretched hand; -but the other merely shook her head and passed on inside. She felt -independent of any outside aid now; for the attitude of Leech was most -encouraging. And there was unusual happiness in her look, an infectious -tone in her laugh as she said to her father: - -"I know you'll get off somehow." - -On the next day and the day after that, Elinor noted the woman still -waiting at her post, still hoping, evidently, that Elinor would speak -to her; and on each of these days Giles Ilingsworth felt the buoyancy -in his daughter's manner. - -"You're like a bit of sunshine in this place," he said. - -On the third day, at sunset, he sent for the deputy. - -"Deputy," said the old man, clutching his coat-sleeve pitifully through -the bars, "I--my daughter hasn't been here to-day." - -"I know," answered the other. "I've missed her, too." - -"She must be ill," the old man said. "Is there any way of finding out? -I have some money with me...." - -They sent a messenger to Elinor's room; but the messenger returned with -the information that she was not in. All that night Ilingsworth paced -his narrow cell; but with the morning sun came new hopes. - -"She'll be here to-day," he assured himself. - -But she didn't come that day either. When his meals were brought to him -he refused to eat. And again all that night he paced his cell. He was -inconsolable. - -Five more days passed without Ilingsworth having received word from his -daughter, but then, just when it seemed that he could bear the suspense -no longer, the deputy came to him and said: - -"There's a lady downstairs who knows your daughter. She's been here -every day, came just to see her. She wants to help--wants her address. -Shall I give it to her?" - -"Yes, yes," exclaimed the old man, eagerly. - -In a little while the woman returned and told the deputy that Miss -Ilingsworth had moved, had taken all her things, had gone, they didn't -know where; and the warden repeated her words to the poor old man -before whom lay many nights yet of sleeplessness and agony. - - - - -XVI - - -"I believe I once remarked to you, Mrs. Peter V., that I needed you," -said Flomerfelt, his fingers stealthily groping into the depth of his -sleeves for his cuffs, and when they were arranged to his satisfaction, -he added: "to manage Peter V. It seems that I was mistaken." - -"And you don't need me?" asked Mrs. Wilkinson anxiously. For the lady -feared Flomerfelt, and realised that he was a dangerous man. In some -way or other she considered him responsible for the attempt on her -husband's life, which ended in the killing of Roy Pallister. She had -never lost confidence in Flomerfelt's ability to win the battle that -he and she were waging against her husband. There had been a time, it -must be acknowledged, when she had looked up to and admired Wilkinson, -but that feeling had long since passed off and had been replaced by one -of tolerance and fear. Now she despised the man--despised him the more -because she believed that Flomerfelt would circumvent him. A poor judge -of character, as she was--a woman whose only end and aim in life was -to feed her own desires--she saw nothing save unsuccessful clumsiness -in Wilkinson's move at this time, and had naught but admiration for -Flomerfelt's promised finesse. - -"You do need me?" she asked, taking refuge in tears. And she was -rewarded by a sudden half-reluctant change in his manner, for he said -soothingly: - -"I suppose I do, but not as far as your husband is concerned. Peter V., -in or out of prison, is sewed up, done up; he's in our hands. Our fight -is with a woman." And even before the last word was spoken he noted -that she seemed to be impressing upon herself the possibility of such a -contingency. "I suppose you know," he went on, "did Peter V. tell you -that Leslie had refused Governor Beekman?" - -"The girl's a fool!" exclaimed her step-mother. "If she halts at -marrying a governor--I'd marry Beekman--I'd marry any governor in the -land! I've been all wrong in thinking that money will do everything in -New York! A millionaire's wife is nobody, unless.... Now if I were a -statesman's wife, they'd have to recognise me--I'd show them!" - -"You don't suppose that she wants _me_, do you?" Flomerfelt said, -putting into his voice as much tenderness as he dared. - -Mrs. Peter V. shook her head, laughing scornfully in spite of herself. - -"Some day, perhaps, we can make her like you, when I'm through liking -you myself," she replied. - -"You?" scowled Flomerfelt. - -The woman shivered at his tone. - -"What reason does she give?" she asked, wisely changing the subject. - -Then Flomerfelt went on to explain with a grim smile what he thought of -the deep-laid plans of Colonel Morehead, the schemes of Wilkinson and -how they had all gone for naught, ending with: - -"She's a born fighter, that Leslie, and it's she that we're up against, -and not Wilkinson. Now the sooner Peter V. wins his fight, the better -for us; but this minx is blocking him, though I admire her for it, I -must say." - -"We'll make her marry Beekman," declared Mrs. Peter V. - -The woman's confidence in her own powers brought a sarcastic smile to -his lips. - -"It isn't a part of my game that she shall marry him," he argued. "The -essential thing is that she shall engage herself to him. I say that she -will never marry him." - -"But Beekman can't be put out of the way as easily as----" - -"There has been too much blundering already," said Flomerfelt, -gloatingly, for the look of fear in her eyes had not escaped him. For -a moment that seemed minutes they were silent. Finally Flomerfelt -announced: "The long and short of it is that I don't intend that this -Beekman shall marry her, and you've got to help me." - -"Of course," said the lady, rejoicing that at last her services would -be brought into play. "But how? What would you suggest?" - -" ... That you go and see him secretly," he told her, and then -proceeded to unfold his plan of what she should say to him. - -"You'll go now?" he asked, observing the readiness in which she lent -herself to his scheme, "and I'll go with you, that is, part way." - -And in no way concerned as to the outcome of her dishonourable -action--so confident was she of Flomerfelt's ability to carry out any -project that he might undertake--Mrs. Peter V., without the slightest -compunction, swept out of the room to make ready for their little -excursion to Beekman's apartments. In a surprisingly short space of -time she came back arrayed in a long fur motor-coat and a hat perched -upon her head with a rakishness that she thought quite smart, but -which, in reality, had not the remotest chance of success unless worn -by a very young and pretty girl. And notwithstanding the fact that -her eyes were over-bright, as were her cheeks, there was no lack -of self-satisfaction in the manner in which she carried herself as -together they passed out through the entrance door, stepped into her -limousine, and were off. - -But scarcely had the limousine passed out of sight of the house than -Jeffries was summoned to the door once more. - -"It's Mr. Beekman back again, Miss Leslie," were the words with which -the butler interrupted Wilkinson's insistence that Leslie should listen -to his final command; "and he says that he must see you at once." - -Wilkinson's eyes gleamed as he snapped out: - -"See him again, Leslie, and patch things up. Mind you, if you don't -take him, I'll drag you to him and make you." - -Frightened lest he should see Beekman before she saw him herself, for -she realised that her father was desperate for some unknown reason and -quite capable of carrying out his threat, Leslie swept on past Jeffries -and into the room where Beekman was waiting, his eyes bright with a new -hope. - -"Idiot that I was, Leslie," he began breathlessly, "I was half way home -before I came to my senses. Then in a flash I saw it all--no, you can't -fool me this time. The whole trouble is your father's troubles. Come, -confess!" - -"But I've already confessed," she said. And so she had, though not in -the way she intended, for her eyes told the story. - -It was, therefore, with no uncertain tread, but rather with a sudden -warmth and force that seemed to take possession of him, body and soul, -that he continued: - -"Look here, little one, this is a matter between you and me and no -one else. You must consider no one, but remember only that I represent -to you the one man in all the world for you, as you stand for the only -woman in the world for me: for I love you, Leslie, and I know that you -love me." - -There had been times when Eliot Beekman had stood before and pleaded -with reluctant juries and judges whose faces were dead set against -him, but his task then had been nothing compared with the one now. And -yet so well did he plead his case, that when he had finished it was as -he had told her: she forgot her father's sentence, forgot everything, -except that she loved him, and that he was the one man in all the world -for her. - -"I believe you," she confessed to him in a whisper; "I believe you are -right. Would to heaven that you had given me the chance to say this to -you months ago." - -"You've loved me all the time?" he asked, his pulse beating fast. - -"Yes," she answered, "and I knew that you loved me." - -The next instant he had brought out the ring which she had refused to -accept, a little while before, and holding out her hand impulsively -Leslie let him put it on. - -There was a pause in which she looked first at the ring and then at the -man before her, the meaning of it all slowly dawning upon her. And -then in some sudden outburst of rapture she let herself be held in his -arms as their lips met in one long kiss. In that moment her heart went -out to him, and she knew that there could never be anyone else for her. -After a time she gently drew herself away from him, and said: - -"My senses are coming back, Eliot, and this surrender is only on one -condition, which is that there shall be no--no wedding--until, until -father is cleared.... Of course, if you will not consent to this," and -she toyed with the gem that sparkled on her finger, "then----" - -"Hold on there, hold on!" cried Beekman. "I'll consent to anything so -long as you're mine...." - -"All over, is it, Eliot?" came in a big voice from somewhere behind -them. - -The pair of lovers sprang apart like two persons caught in the act of -concocting some conspiracy. The interloper was the girl's father. - -"I thought," went on Wilkinson, more gently now, "that I'd drop in -before the news went over the wire. Leslie's been opening up her heart -to me--letting me in on her troubles, and I agree with her, though it's -your own affair, of course. I'd keep the engagement quiet, for the -present." - -"That is precisely what I want; in fact I insist upon it," said Leslie, -tugging at the ring on her finger. - -Beekman watched her struggles in alarm. - -"I consent to anything, just so long as I am sure you're mine, that you -belong to me," he repeated. - -Wilkinson held out his hand, saying: - -"I'll make myself scarce and let you make sure in your own way that -she does belong to you, Governor Beekman. Clinch the bargain, my boy; -strike while the iron's hot; make hay while the sun shines." - -A moment more and Wilkinson had ambled off to smoke another black cigar -and to pat himself upon the back, while the happy pair, heedful of his -advice, in the dim light of the music-room proceeded to make hay while -the sun shone, even though without the November storm raged above the -Hudson. - -It was a night to be marked with a white stone for them, a happy memory -in the days to come. For the time was not far distant when the sun for -them would cease to shine, when the storm was to rage within these two -as it now raged without the big house on the Drive. - - - - -XVII - - -On a bright snappy morning of the following Spring, Governor Beekman, -reaching his private room in the Capitol at Albany a little ahead of -time, began to pace slowly up and down in front of the open windows. -A wonderfully pleasant place the world seemed to him now. However -much his ambition might grope forward in the future, the present was -eminently satisfactory. All his struggles seemed to lie behind him; -before him he saw power, pleasant ways, and Leslie Wilkinson. - -His private secretary, on time to the minute, broke in on his thoughts. - -"This came in last night, Governor," he said, "after you'd left. I read -it over." - -"What is it?" asked the Governor, absent-mindedly. - -"It's a petition for pardon," said the other casually, handing it to -the Governor. - -"What's the conviction," asked the latter, glancing at the document. - -"Murder in the first degree," was the answer. Beekman frowned. Out of -many applications this was the first he had received in a murder case. - -"The game of Governor isn't all beer and skittles, is it, Phillips?" - -"I'll change with you any time you say, Governor," laughed Phillips; -and a moment later he added: "This is the case of Giles Ilingsworth." - -"And who is Giles Ilingsworth?" - -"Don't you remember that Tri-State Trust Company affair? The -vice-president who shot a man named Pallister." - -"Of course, Phillips, now I remember it very well. But I never took -much interest in his case. Have they sent the record up--the printed -case?" - -"Yes, and the Hon. Worth Higgins, of New York, is waiting to see you, -Governor Beekman. He came up yesterday--was at the Remsen last night." - -"So he was. I remember now seeing him this morning, eating breakfast. I -thought he looked at me as if something were in the wind. Tell him to -come in, Phillips; I'll see him right away." - -Bearing underneath his arm a printed book, the Hon. Worth Higgins -entered the arena of events with his accustomed energy. He bowed low -to the Governor, placed a high silk hat on the Governor's table, and -settled down into a seat. - -"Have you read my petition?" he asked of the Governor. - -"I looked at it," replied the other. "You have a choice assortment of -names upon it--looks all right." - -"It is all right," declared Higgins, "I can assure you." - -"I have just fifteen minutes," said the Governor. "I'll take this -matter up with you with pleasure. Give me the printed case. Now point -out to me--the evidence must have been brief on the exact point--the -testimony relating to the crime. Remember I don't want your own -private opinion, I want merely the salient facts of the case." And -after glancing quickly over the pages that Higgins selected, he then -wandered through the testimony on his own account. At sight of the name -of Leslie Wilkinson in the printed index of the witnesses, Governor -Beekman was conscious of a shock; nevertheless he turned to her -testimony and to that of Wilkinson. - -"Seems to have been deliberation all right," he remarked. "But wasn't -there a gun store clerk upon the stand? I was in Austria at the time, -and I lost track of this case." - -Higgins, his countenance falling, pointed out the exact testimony. The -Governor solemnly shook his head, as he observed: - -"And here, Mr. Higgins, are three witnesses in the crowd who say that -they saw him fire the fatal shot. What have you to say to that?" - -"Ah!" exclaimed the Hon. Worth Higgins, his spirits rising, "that is -just the point. If you will examine the cross-examination, blundering -though it be, of my colleague Boggs, you will find that those three -witnesses cannot give a correct account of themselves. They were not -depositors--that much we showed: they were hangers-on of Mulberry Bend -resorts." - -"These three men," returned the Governor, "do not stand impeached by -Boggs, that much is sure; and, besides, this was Ilingsworth's gun. How -do you get away from that?" - -Now Higgins, be it known, was not secretly in sympathy with this errand -of his. He knew instinctively that his mission would fail. He preferred -successful missions, and consequently he had balked. But he had -outlined a plan whereby he would sit down before the Governor and make -his plea, and then retire, leaving the rest to fate. So that he had not -come prepared to answer vital questions, and they annoyed him. Besides, -he knew and felt that Ilingsworth had been convicted on the merits of -the case. Appeals had failed; this petition to the Governor was a last -resort. Nevertheless, he started in to tell the Governor the story his -petition set forth--a story of the wrongs of Ilingsworth. - -Governor Beekman listened patiently to him for a few minutes, then he -said: - -"But this man Ilingsworth ran away, too, didn't he? In my mind that -refutes even this question of quasi-insanity that you set up. You were -beaten on insanity, beaten on everything." - -Once more the Governor took up the petition and glanced at the names -subscribed on it. When he came to the name of Nathan Ougheltree of the -National Banks, he smiled and said: "He heads the list." And running -his finger further down the long line of names, he added sardonically: -"Instead of being People vs. Ilingsworth, it looks like Ougheltree -against Wilkinson--the National Banks against the Trust Companies. At -least it does to me, Mr. Higgins; how does it look to you?" - -The Hon. Worth Higgins flushed to his eyelids. - -"My dear Governor," he said reprovingly, "a man's life is at stake." - -"I understand that, Counsellor," returned the Governor. "I'm just -trying to figure out just how much you and Ougheltree care about the -man's life, that's all. I'll take your papers," he went on, "and have -no fear, I'll go over this thing carefully, give the man the benefit of -every reasonable doubt, and that's the best I can do." - -"You'll pardon him, Governor Beekman," said Higgins, placing his silk -hat upon his head, and lighting a cigar. "You'll pardon him, I predict. -Good-day!" - -Higgins's head was held high in the air until he left the room, but -once outside he conversed dejectedly with his own inner consciousness. - -"What the devil did Ougheltree send me on this fool errand for!" he -protested. "Ilingsworth's done for; anyhow, he's served our purpose. -The _Morning Mail_ has had him for a weapon against Wilkinson long -enough." - -On Church Street he stepped into a telephone booth and called up -Ougheltree in Manhattan. - -"What luck?" queried the National Bank man. - -At his end of the line Higgins chuckled. - -"You can lay this unction to your soul," he replied. "There's no hope. -Besides," unconsciously lowering his voice, "this man B. is Wilkinson's -man from top to toe. I did what I could." - -"Nobody could do more," conceded Ougheltree at the other end; "let it -go at that." - -No sooner was the interview between Higgins and the Governor at an end -than the latter's private secretary tiptoed his way back into the room, -and remarked: - -"You're not through with that Ilingsworth case yet. Somebody else wants -to see you--a woman, this time." - -"His wife, I suppose," said the Governor, wearily. - -Phillips shook his head. - -"Ilingsworth was a widower," he explained. - -"It must be his daughter, then--he has a daughter, so it seems," he -said, tapping the printed case. "Doesn't she give her name? No? Well, -tell her to come in, then." - -The private secretary went out as directed, and a moment later the new -visitor entered. - -In a glance the Governor saw that although she was simply and poorly -clad, she was a woman of great beauty; and presently he said: - -"You are Miss Ilingsworth?" - -The woman turned her lustrous dark blue eyes full upon him--eyes full -of sorrow, full of appeal; they troubled the Governor. - -"I am not Miss Ilingsworth," she returned in a strong, rich, full -voice, vibrant with pathos. "I have no card. My name is Madeline -Braine. I'm a saleswoman in Satterthwaite's department store in New -York." - -The Governor looked at her questioningly. - -"I was informed that you had received the Ilingsworth papers," she -began, going right to the point, "and that Mr. Higgins had been here to -see you. I have come about it, too." - -The Governor drew a chair forward for her; and the young woman leaning -across a table, her figure half-resting lightly upon it, her slender -arm stretching toward him, continued: - -"Yes, I have come to plead for Giles Ilingsworth, to save him -from----" She stopped suddenly, and for an instant her eyes held the -other's glance. - -"Who sent you here?" presently asked the Governor. - -"I came of my own accord, sir." - -"You are not allied with the Ougheltree crowd?" he asked, and his eyes -narrowed. - -Madeline Braine opened hers wide. - -"What Ougheltree crowd?" she queried in return. - -"Come, come," he said a bit impatiently, "you must know what I mean. -I've heard all about this Ilingsworth case. It's been a handle in -the hands of a lot of people for the purpose of hounding Peter V. -Wilkinson." - -"Peter V. Wilkinson," she breathed, a sharp note of enmity in her tone -that the Governor recognised for the thing it was. - -"Ah, you know something of what I say?" he said. - -"I have heard," she began. - -"Then why do you come here?" he interrupted testily. - -Madeline Braine leaned toward him a bit closer, persisting: - -"Because I know that this man Ilingsworth isn't guilty." - -"How do you know it?" he asked. - -"I just know," she replied with feminine logic. - -"You think he was insane? That seems to be the chief argument of his -friends." - -"He isn't guilty of the murder, that's all," she declared, her eyes -glittering for an instant. - -"I wish you'd tell me how you know this?" asked the Governor, firmly. -He was fast getting out of patience with her. - -"Because I've heard him tell his story, and I know it's true," she -insisted stubbornly. - -"But twelve men heard his story," went on the Governor, disturbed out -of his gubernatorial dignity by her evident distress, "and they felt it -wasn't true." - -"They didn't hear it as I heard it," she declared with great -earnestness. "You ought to hear it from him--not read it. Just hear the -sound of his voice, see his face, his eyes! You'd believe him--you'd -know it was true." - -The Governor was interested, not only at her words, but at her forceful -manner; moreover, he was attracted not a little by the young woman's -great beauty. Presently he asked: - -"You were in the crowd the day of the murder? Or perhaps you know -someone who was?" But both these questions she answered negatively. - -The Governor was puzzled. Dealing with the Honourable Worth Higgins -had been an easy matter compared to this. Nevertheless, there was a -wonderfully convincing stubbornness about the woman that disturbed him. - -"You think he had a fair trial?" he asked, flirting the leaves of the -printed case. "It seems to me he had." - -"No," she answered, "he did not...." And then she went on to give her -reasons why she thought this, ending with: "The three witnesses out of -the crowd--the three men who were procured by the police, and who swore -they saw Ilingsworth fire the shot--those men lied." - -The Governor started. - -"Isn't it rather queer that Counsellor Higgins should have harped on -that very thing! You've talked to Higgins this morning, or perhaps some -other time, about this case, haven't you?" - -"I have talked to no one," was her answer, and, somehow, the Governor -felt that she spoke the truth. - -"Leaving out the question of those three men," he went on, "there's -enough proof--the gun, the threats--to have convicted him on -circumstantial evidence." - -"Another reason is," she continued, heedless of his remark, "that the -influence of Peter V. Wilkinson, and especially," she hesitated for an -instant, "the testimony of Miss Leslie Wilkinson were too strong in the -case--too much importance was attached to them." - -At the mention of Leslie's name the Governor winced. Not so much -because of her connection with the case, but he blamed himself for -permitting his thoughts, for one instant, to rest on this woman to the -exclusion of the other. - -"Their testimony," he argued, "was entitled to weight. It was true; and -it established these threats ... I can't see...." - -But there was such genuine distress and anguish on her face, and she -seemed to be advocating such a losing cause that he pitied her, and was -wondering just how he could assist her, when suddenly she leaned closer -to him, her breast swelling, heaving against the polished surface of -the table; and placing her ungloved hand upon his, while with the other -she pushed towards him a closely-written memorandum, she said in soft, -swelling tones: - -"Governor Beekman, I know this man is innocent. See what I have done: -This is a list of men who have been sent to death by juries, courts of -appeals, in times past--innocent men, like Ilingsworth, condemned by -the world, while living, and acquitted only when it was too late. This -man Ilingsworth is not guilty, I say," she concluded, tightening her -grasp on his arm, while her gaze held his. - -The Governor's frame thrilled at her touch. - -"I would not say this, Governor Beekman," she resumed, still holding -his glance, "if I were not desperate, but if there is anything I can -do for you, if there's anything in my power to give, I'll do it if you -will set this man free." - -The Governor felt the warmth of her hand through his sleeve, yet there -was nothing of the temptress in her touch, but rather she had become -a desperate woman, the apotheosis of self-sacrifice, a Monna Vanna, -stopping at nothing to gain her virtuous object. - -"I don't know you," she went on softly, with downcast eyes, "but if -there's anything about me--do with me----" - -Suddenly she stopped. The door had opened, and a girl stood framed in -the doorway. But although the Governor paled perceptibly, he did not -move. After a moment the woman removed her hand from his arm, quietly -rose and stood facing the girl who had entered. - -"Governor Beekman," she said, now turning to him, her face still -appealing in its pathos, her arms half stretched toward him, "I'm -coming here every day, whether you will see me or not. I'm coming -until you consent to see this man Ilingsworth and hear from him the -truth. You must see him, you must hear his story from his lips," she -concluded, holding out her hand. - -"I will say to you precisely what I told Mr. Higgins," he replied, -taking her hand and bowing gravely over it. "I shall consider this -matter fully and faithfully, and shall give Giles Ilingsworth the -benefit of every reasonable doubt." - -When the woman had finally gone, Leslie came forward laughing, but with -just enough nervousness showing in her laugh to startle Beekman, and -remarked: - -"Take care, take care, Eliot, some of them will get you if you don't -watch out!" - -By this time the Governor had thrown off the subtle influence of the -woman, and smiling, too, he answered: - -"Let me tell you all about it, Leslie," and proceeded to do so, despite -her protests that she didn't care to hear it. During his recital, -however, she broke in with: - -"She's awfully attractive, Eliot, to say the least!" - -"To tell you the truth, Leslie," he laughed, "I'm not quite sure how -far her influence upon me is going to go." - -"Surely you don't mean----" began Leslie, but Beekman joined in -quickly, soberly, honestly saying: - -"Just this: that if she persists, it may result in my seeing Giles -Ilingsworth." - -"Oh!" The interjection plainly showing her relief. But a moment more -and she had recalled Colonel Morehead's warnings that under no -circumstances was Beekman to be permitted to hear Ilingsworth's story -from his own lips. - -Immediately, therefore, to Beekman's surprise, the reserve that had -marked her manner dissolved, and she cried: - -"Eliot, don't see him! Please don't see him, Eliot!" - -"But why not?" he inquired, smiling. - -"Because I don't want you to," she told him. - -"Leslie! Surely you're not trying to pit your influence against hers? -What?" he said, his smile changing to an expression of slight annoyance. - -"No, indeed," she replied. "It's something else." - -"Why, then?" - -"That's the trouble--I don't know. Only, he was, is still, my father's -enemy. Oh, I have seen his fury--he meant murder--he did murder...." - -"It is because the case is a murder case," explained the Governor, -"that it troubles me. It's the first murder case since my election, and -really, I don't know--I can't promise anything now." - - * * * * * - -Madeline Braine lived up to her promises. Day after day for a week she -had waited persistently in the Governor's ante-room, buoyed up with -the hope that eventually he would accede to her wishes. At last her -patience was rewarded: for the Governor, passing through the room -where she waited, suddenly announced to his private secretary that he -would consent to an interview with Ilingsworth the following day at -noon. And turning to the woman, he added: - -"I want you here, Miss Braine, too." - -Phillips, the Governor's private secretary, frowned to himself. Unknown -to the Governor, he was one of Wilkinson's most faithful men--placed -at the Governor's side apparently by the Governor's untrammelled -choice--but actually forced upon him without his own knowledge. - -"I don't like this a little bit," thought Phillips to himself. "It -looks bad, bad...." - -The following day punctually at noon, in obedience to the mandate of -the Governor, three men marched into the waiting-room at the Capitol. -Two were men in uniform; one in civilian's dress. - -"You can go right in," said the secretary, nodding to them. And passing -into the Governor's private office they found him at his desk, signing -some papers. In a corner sat Miss Madeline Braine. One of the uniformed -officers stood at attention, waiting until the Governor should look up. - -"This is Giles Ilingsworth, sir," he said at length. - -Instantly the Governor raised his eyes and looked at the prisoner--a -man whose hair was turning grey, whose aspect was pathetically -hopeless. And steeling himself against the sight--for it was within -the range of possibility that all murderers looked this way, guilty or -not,--he ordered him to sit down, and pointing to a seat, he added: - -"Mr. Ilingsworth, take this chair, please." - -The chair had been placed so that the light shone full upon the face of -the condemned man. And the instant that Ilingsworth had seated himself, -some new expression crossed the face of the Governor as unconsciously -he placed his hand against his forehead. In an instant, however, he -had removed it, and his glance went from Ilingsworth to the young -woman sitting in the corner, at the same time motioning to her to come -forward. - -"Mr. Ilingsworth," he began gently, "the fact that I have consented to -see you is due to your friend, Miss Madeline Braine." - -The prisoner turned an expressionless countenance toward the girl. - -"My friend, Miss Madeline Braine!" he exclaimed, his hand, too, -creeping along his own forehead. "I have no friend of the name Braine." - -"You may not know her by that name, but this is the lady," said the -Governor. - -Giles Ilingsworth stared hard at her; the next instant he announced: - -"I don't know this lady, sir." - -The Governor was startled afresh. - -"You don't know her? Why, she's been pleading for you for days." - -Ilingsworth smiled gratefully, murmuring: - -"Some young newspaper woman, I suppose. I thank her for it." - -The Governor shook his head. - -"She's not a newspaper woman--I know that," he returned. "I mistook her -for your daughter." - -Giles Ilingsworth struggled wildly to his feet, and brushing his hair -roughly from his forehead as he leaned over the Governor's desk and -looked him full in the eye, he cried: - -"My daughter! My daughter----" - -"Stop!" ordered the Governor in commanding tones, the puzzled look on -his face giving way to one of recognition, relief. - -"I've placed you now--yes, by Jove, I'm right--I know you!" He laughed -with the surprise of it all. - -Ilingsworth continued to stare vacantly into space. - -"'And the rest by the names underneath,'" quoted the Governor, touching -him on the arm, as though to arouse him. - -"Eh?" exclaimed the prisoner, working his fingers convulsively through -his hair. - -"Listen to this!" And the Governor recited with almost boyish glee: - - "'I recognise Dante because he's tab-eared, - And Virgil I know by his wreath, - Old Homer I tell by his rough shaggy beard-- - And the rest _by the names underneath_.'" - -"Don't you remember it?" he added, when he had finished the verse. - -Ilingsworth's face lighted up. - -"Why, sir," he cried, "it's my favourite. Where did you hear it?" - -"From your own lips," replied the Governor. "And at the same time you -showed me that,"--and he pointed with his finger to the spot where the -old man had brushed away his hair from his forehead--"the Heidelberg -scar upon your head. And you were reading Dante at the time." - -Ilingsworth pulled a thumb-worn volume out of his pocket. - -"I've that copy of the Inferno yet," he murmured sadly. "It keeps -reminding me.... My daughter"--he peered uncertainly at the Governor. -"I'm curious to know, sir, when I met you. I can't seem to place you." - -"But I remember you very well indeed," rejoined the Governor. "I rode -with you all day long to Buffalo, some months ago. We were on the -Empire State Express together." - -"Buffalo?" said Ilingsworth. "I never went to Buffalo." - -"Oh, yes, you did," persisted the Governor; and drawing from his -breast-pocket a diary he turned over the leaves rapidly until he came -to a certain page. "Yes, you went to Buffalo on the 27th day of April, -190--that's the date." - -"I can't seem to remember it," was all that Ilingsworth said; but at -that moment a figure sprang towards the Governor, and a voice cried in -his ear: - -"The date--what was that date? The twenty-seventh day of what?" - -"April." - -"Please repeat it." - -The Governor repeated it. - -"Are you absolutely sure?" she cried. - -"Of course," he answered. "Why?" - -"And you say you took the Empire State Express?" demanded Madeline -Braine, almost beside herself with excitement. "What time does it leave -in the morning?" - -"It leaves always at the same time--eight-thirty in the morning." - -"It was an all-day ride?" - -"Yes." - -"And Giles Ilingsworth was near you all the way? You're sure that you -were with him on the Empire State Express at eleven o'clock--eleven in -the morning that day?" - -"Surely I was." - -Madeline Braine offered up a silent prayer. - -"I knew, I knew," she cried, "that there must be some way out of this! -Giles Ilingsworth was miles away at the time when Pallister was killed! -The murder took place on April 27th at eleven o'clock in the morning, -at the very instant when you and he were riding to Buffalo as fast as -steam could carry you! You----" - -She sank into her chair and covered her face with her hands. - -"I told you he was innocent," she said, smiling through her tears. - -There was a tense moment in which Governor Beekman, the prisoner and -the two officers stood staring at each other in speechless amazement. - -"Can it be possible ...!" exclaimed the Governor at length, and again -he consulted his diary. All of a sudden something else on the page that -he was looking at caught his eye, and he cried out: - -"It was at six o'clock that evening in the Iroquois that I read the -murder in the papers. It was that day--it was...." And a moment later -he was at his desk rapidly leafing over the printed case for the date -of the commission of the crime. - -There was no mistake about it. Every witness had it pat. Repeatedly in -his opening address and in his summing up the District Attorney had -referred to it; three times it appeared in the Court's charge to the -jury. - -"Phillips," he directed, when his secretary appeared, "call up my -office in New York; call up the District Attorney's office in New York; -and call up the Bank Le Boeuf in Buffalo. Get them right away, please." - -The calls were answered quickly. Once the people at the other end knew -the Governor of New York was on the wire, everything was put aside to -do his bidding; and at the end of an hour the Governor sank back into -his chair with a sigh of satisfaction. - -"There is not the slightest doubt about it," he told them. "At the -very time the shot was fired in Lafayette Street, New York, this man -was with me miles away from the spot." He looked at the officers -significantly. "When was he to be----" He broke off, shuddering at the -thought of the man's narrow escape. - -"Next week Thursday," came from the officers. - -Beekman thought for some time. Finally he said: - -"I'll grant him a reprieve for a month. It may take a week to verify -the facts." - -When the prisoner had been led away, the Governor turned to Madeline -Braine, and said with great feeling: - -"Miss Braine, I owe you a debt of gratitude I can never repay. If it -hadn't been for you I would have sent this man to his doom--and one -of these days, when it was too late, I would have found it out, and -then...." His finger-nails bit into his palms. "You've saved me from -the Inferno that he harps upon." - -But much to the Governor's surprise, the woman before him seemed to -receive this remark listlessly. An unaccountable depression was upon -her; there was no fire in her eyes; and the hand that she gave to him -was cold as ice. Yet, instinctively he felt that she must be grateful. - -"If I can ever be of service"--she murmured. But Beekman interrupted -her. - -"Pardon me, it is I who wish to be of some service to you. But will you -tell me," he asked, another thought coming into his mind, "how it was -that you didn't know Ilingsworth, and that he didn't know you? How do -you account for it, Miss Braine?" - -"I think this day has taught us that there are many unaccountable -things in life, hasn't it, Governor?" - -And the Governor, when once more seated alone at his desk, was forced -to acknowledge to himself that it had. - -Governor Beekman was still at his desk going over some papers when -Phillips, some time later, came in and handed him a telegram, saying: - -"It's in cipher, sir." - -"Cipher!" said the other. "Why cipher? I have no code with anybody. Can -you read it?" - -"It says 'Coal gone to $6.50 retail.'" And passing it over, added: -"It's signed, M. X. Y. Z." - -"And you say that's a cipher?" asked the Governor. - -"Yes. The X. Y. Z. means the X. Y. Z. Code, apparently," explained -Phillips, glibly. "I have the A. B. C. and the X. Y. Z. in my desk. I -translated it while you were busy. It means this: 'Court has affirmed -Wilkinson conviction. Morehead.'" - -Governor Beekman started with genuine anxiety. - -"The deuce you say! I'm sorry, very sorry, to hear that," he said; but -Phillips only smiled--a smile that the Governor did not see. "I can't -understand why they affirm that conviction, I can't--I can't ..." he -kept saying to himself. Then aloud to his secretary: "Get me a copy of -that opinion, will you, Phillips? I want to see it, word for word." - -And it was with considerable satisfaction that the private secretary -observed, as he left the room, that the Governor was nervously pacing -to and fro. - - - - -XVIII - - -In Colonel Morehead's office at 120 Broadway, Peter V. Wilkinson sat at -the window reading a typewritten document of considerable length. He -was white and rigid; while Leslie, standing beside him, rested her arm -upon his shoulder. As he read he stirred uneasily, even his daughter's -hand felt heavy upon him, and he shrugged it off. - -"By all the gods!" he groaned from time to time; "those chaps have -nerve to say such things about me!" - -"They seem to have the right," said the Colonel, suppressing a chuckle, -"and I suppose we can't complain." - -When Peter V. had finished reading the opinion, he wiped his face with -his kerchief--the perspiration had started from every pore. - -"That's the last crack, I suppose, Morehead," he ventured. - -Morehead did not immediately answer, but turned to Leslie and said: - -"There's a new Inness in the next room that I picked up at a bargain. -Would you like----" And without waiting for her answer the Colonel led -the way to an adjoining room, where he pointed out briefly to her the -artistic features of his new acquisition, and leaving her to admire it, -he came back, closing the door behind him. - -"Peter," he said softly, "how much money have you squandered on this -business in the last year--since you were indicted, convicted and so -forth. I mean outside of what you haven't paid me and of what I know -about?" - -Wilkinson grunted in disgust. - -"Ten, I should say." - -"Millions?" - -His client fumed and nodded. - -Morehead made a gesture of impatience which included the other. - -"Didn't I warn you, Peter, that it would be of no use? That at the end -of the race you'd find yourself with a ten-years' sentence staring -you in the face. You might have saved your money, or given it to me, -preferably the latter course." - -"Oh, come, Morehead, what's the use of these post mortems of yours! -Let's get to work. How much time have we got?" - -"I can get a few certificates of reasonable doubt--that part's all -right--run it along for months yet. We've got to concede, however, -that they shoved it along mighty quick. What I'm trying to figure out -is whether we hadn't better apply to Beekman now--strike while the -iron's hot. For that opinion will make him mad, and if so, now is our -time...." - -"Sure it's our time, Colonel; let's do it right away." - -Morehead slipped into the next room and adjusted the window-shade. - -"The light is a little better, now, Miss Leslie. I want you to like -that picture. If you like it well enough, maybe I'll give it to you one -of these days...." - -Leslie smiled her gratitude, glancing anxiously at the same time into -the next room. - -"Can I go back to father now?" she asked. - -"Of course, I came to get you," said Colonel Morehead; and when they -were back in the room in which her father waited, the Colonel, lounging -easily in his seat, went on to confide to her the fact that her father -was at last in desperate straits; that this opinion constituted his -last chance with the courts. - -"Your father and I have been talking it over," he said in a tone of -finality; "and the hand of the National Banks sticks up like a sore -finger all through the case. It's an outrage! We've decided that this -is the proper time and the proper case to present to Governor Beekman -for pardon. What do you think ...?" - -At first, while Morehead was explaining, as well as he knew how, the -unpleasant situation that her father was in, Leslie had half-risen in -her chair, her face growing white; but at the lawyer's concluding words -her colour came back. - -"Why, I--I never thought of that!" she cried out, her troubles slipping -from her suddenly. - -Colonel Morehead smiled at her until she lowered her eyes in confusion. -Afterwards he deigned to explain that neither had they until just now. - -"Providence," put in Wilkinson, winking at Colonel Morehead, "seems to -be on our side--the appellate courts to the contrary notwithstanding." - -"The right shall prevail," quoth Morehead, unblushingly. - -"Isn't it funny," exclaimed Leslie, "that none of us ever thought of -this before!" - -Leslie thought of it a good deal afterwards, however, and the very next -day in the Mastodon car she canvassed in person practically every house -upon the Drive and over on Fifth Avenue to get the list of signatures -that the Colonel wished her to obtain. - -"This has got to be done right, Miss Leslie," he impressed upon her. -"For when Eliot pardons your father, remember that he's got to show why -he does it, and upon whose petition." - -"You mean"--she faltered, "that he may be criticised?" - -"It's quite possible, my dear. The _Morning Mail_, for instance, will -doubtless roast him from here to Gehenna and back again." - -Leslie's smile of girlish confidence returned. - -"Eliot won't mind," she said. "I don't believe he cares much about -anything except me. He'll do right by us no matter what happens, I feel -sure of that." - -"And I think," suggested the Colonel, "that when we hand in our -petitions, we'll all go up together." - -Leslie laughed in sheer delight. - -"Of course we'll all go up together," she returned. "Our march to -victory." - - * * * * * - -"That man Ilingsworth is here again," Phillips told the Governor, -somewhat reluctantly; "and he wants to see you." - -"Show him in," briskly returned his chief. "I'll be delighted to see -him." - -Ilingsworth came in slowly, dejectedly, alone. No guard was with him; -the air he breathed was free air, and yet there were no signs of -contentment. - -"I didn't come exactly to thank you, Governor," he said uneasily. "I -did that in my letter when they told me of my pardon. I came to you -because in all my life you are the only man who ever really helped -me--for it seems to have been the mission of other men to drag me down. -I have come for help once more." - -"I want to help you, Mr. Ilingsworth," volunteered the Governor. -"What's the trouble? Is it--money?" - -Ilingsworth slowly shook his head. - -"No, it is not money...." He paused and looked about him uncertainly, -murmuring to himself: "What is it that I want?" - -Beekman touched him kindly. - -"You seem to lose yourself at times," he remarked. "For instance, you -didn't remember that trip to Buffalo." - -"That's the only time I ever lost myself, I guess," was his answer. -"If I hadn't lost myself then, I suppose I could have proved an alibi. -I couldn't account for myself upon my trial, and nobody who knew me -had seen me for a few days. I must have knocked about Buffalo and come -back." - -"You were looking for a farm." - -"Yes, you told me that. It comes back to me now. And there was a farm, -but it's all very vague--a farm some years ago somewhere up there. I -had the notion to find it and to live on it--just myself and----" he -broke off abruptly, and there was a new light in his eyes and a world -of pathos in the voice that said: "It's my daughter that I want to see -you about. I want to find her. Can't you help me to find her?" - -"Don't you know where she is?" - -"I haven't seen her for, oh, so long--so long. When they put me away -she would come to the Tombs--twice she came up the River to see me. But -the last time there was something in her face I couldn't understand, -then she never came again, and I knew they'd got her. For she had to -get along, somehow, and she didn't dare to face me. Poor girl, there -was no one to care for her--see to her!" And then all of a sudden -flaring up out of his downcast demeanour, he cried: - -"Curse them! Curse that man Wilkinson--all of them! First they robbed -me of my money, then they got me, and now they've got her!" - -The Governor's eyes narrowed. - -"What has Wilkinson to do with it?" he demanded. - -"Why, don't you know?" Ilingsworth burst out excitedly. "Doesn't -everybody know? Didn't you read my testimony at the trial?" - -"Only hurriedly," acknowledged the Governor. "What I wanted to read -first was the case made against you. I read your own denial--but as -for the rest, well, you were rambling, somewhat incoherent. I didn't -understand it--in fact I hardly read it all." - -Ilingsworth dragged up a chair. - -"Will you let me tell you, sir, all about it?" - -Governor Beekman let him tell his story. And scarcely had the last -words of Ilingsworth's recital of his wrongs left his lips than -Phillips, entering, announced: - -"Colonel Morehead and some friends to see you, sir!" - -"Bring them right in!" exclaimed the Governor, at once rising and going -with a smile to meet them. Suddenly he remembered Ilingsworth and -started to escort that gentleman out of another entrance. - -"But my daughter," mumbled Ilingsworth as with bowed head he followed -the Governor. "If I can't have her back again, why, what's the good of -a pardon? I must have help to find her." At the door something impelled -him to pause, and looking back he found himself face to face with Peter -V. Wilkinson. - -"That's the man--there--the man that got my money--that's got my -daughter! No matter where she is, he's responsible! Look at him! Look -at his face! I don't have to tell you...." - -But the Governor, startled by this outburst and intent upon getting rid -of his visitor, did not turn, and consequently he did not see the face -of Wilkinson blanch and twitch under the accusing forefinger of his old -vice-president, Giles Ilingsworth. - -"I'll help you find your daughter, sir," the Governor promised, taking -the man by the arm; "I'll help you all I can." - -"Poor chap," said he, returning, and shaking hands with his guests, -"seems to have it in for you, Mr. Wilkinson." - -"I don't blame him having it in for somebody," spoke up Leslie. "It is -not his innocence or guilt that interests me, but his daughter. I saw -her picture once--saw her twice," she went on wistfully. "How I wish -that I might help him...." - -Colonel Morehead, tucking the Ilingsworth incident into the back of his -head for future use, laid down a batch of papers and his printed case -upon the Governor's desk. - -"Governor--Eliot," he remarked jovially, "the New York _Reporter_ and -the _Star_ call you the pardoning Governor." - -"Yes. They rapped me hard, didn't they," he said, all unconscious -that they were Wilkinson's own papers. "But what could I do? The man -Ilingsworth was innocent--I knew he was innocent." - -"Oh, they didn't hit you very hard--just a little dig in the short -ribs--friendly little scrap, don't you know," said Morehead, -soothingly. "But the _Morning Mail_ made up for it, my boy. They'll -stick to you through thick and thin, and don't you forget it. It won't -hurt you. Ougheltree's backing is not to be sneezed at by any man. But -what I started in to say, Eliot, was, that since you're the pardoning -Governor, so-called, why, we've got a little bone to pick with you--a -petition--or petitions, rather, in the case of the People versus -Wilkinson." - -Colonel Morehead handed up his bunch of papers, Leslie following suit, -as she said with a little smile: - -"My contribution, Governor." - -"A bit stiff, that U. S. Supreme decision," said the Governor, taking -them, and looking at Wilkinson. "It seemed to me unnecessarily rough." - -Wilkinson shrugged his shoulders. - -"With the National Banks against me, how can the U. S. courts be for -me--that's what I'd like to know?" he asked. - -"Will you hear me now, Governor," interposed Morehead. - -For an instant the Governor hesitated. Then he replied that he would -send for him when he was ready; that he had to read the case all -through, ending with: - -"I've forgotten half of it. I'll read it and then I'll set a day...." - -But that day was long forthcoming. For it was not until three weeks -later that Colonel Morehead heard anything relating to their visit -to the Governor in Albany. And then, one morning to his surprise, -Governor Beekman presented himself at his office in Broadway, and -handing him a personal memorandum, he said: - -"I was down here and thought we'd clean these up first. I'm going to -Murgatroyd's to look at the original exhibits when I'm through here--or -he'll probably send them to my office." - -The Colonel gave the man before him one long searching glance. He noted -that the Governor's face was unnaturally flushed; there were deep lines -on it; he had the appearance of an over-worked man. - -"Must have burned some midnight oil on this thing, Eliot?" said -Morehead. - -The Governor wearily drew his hand across his face. - -"I have," he answered shortly. - -"The first memo.," went on the Governor, referring to the printed case, -"relates to page 121." - -Morehead found page 121 and his face reddened perceptibly. The Governor -had touched a sore spot: page 121 contained the first bit of damning -documentary evidence against Wilkinson. Morehead ran through the -other pages indicated on the memorandum; and closing his eyes for a -few seconds, he pressed his hands against them and thought hard. The -Governor had burnt midnight oil to some purpose: he had located every -weak place in Wilkinson's armour--and Morehead knew it. - -"I merely want to find out what Wilkinson's explanation of all these -things is," remarked the Governor, grimly. - -"I'll tell you," said the Colonel, glibly; "that's easy, Eliot. Or, -perhaps," he suggested in order to gain time, "we might get Wilkinson -down here, and have him go over these things with you and me." Already -his hand was on the telephone; but the Governor stayed it. - -"Your explanation will do, Colonel." - -For two hours the Governor listened to Morehead's explanation. At -the end of that time the Governor was still leaning forward studying -every expression in the other's face; but the lines were deeper in -his own face, while on the Colonel's lean countenance small beads of -perspiration stood forth. - -"That's the explanation of it, is it, Colonel?" asked the Governor. - -"That's the whole thing in a nut-shell," returned Morehead. - -Hurriedly the Governor took his departure. He was nervous, anxious, -worried. - -"It seems to be the kind of an explanation that doesn't explain ..." he -told himself. Now he went back to his old office on Nassau Street and -telephoned to Murgatroyd for the original exhibits. At the Barristers' -Club, behind locked doors, he examined the documents for hours. All -night long he studied them; then he rose and gazed out into the grey -dawn. - -"Wilkinson is guilty!" he cried out; "damnably guilty! Why didn't I see -it all before?" - -There was a reason: Colonel Morehead had been right when he told -Wilkinson that Beekman was partisan. And so long as his duty lay -that way, Beekman was partisan. But now he was Governor; his duty in -this case had become judicial; he saw with impartial eyes; and what -he saw and what he read was not the mere testimony of witnesses, not -evidence that depended on veracity, but documents whose genuineness -was undisputed, and whose significance had strangely escaped him until -now. In his own words, over his own signature, Wilkinson had convicted -himself over and over again. - -"Damnably guilty," he repeated to himself. - - * * * * * - -One evening some days later Colonel Morehead betook himself into -the presence of Peter V. Wilkinson and his daughter Leslie. He had -with him, he said, a note which had come from the Governor's private -chambers, which he wished to read to them. It ran: - - _My dear Colonel_: - - I have examined with great care the petitions for pardon in the - People vs. Wilkinson. Also the printed record. There seem to be - undisputed facts which are totally inconsistent with innocence. - The verdict seems to have been justified, the decisions on appeal - correct. There are no extenuating circumstances known to me which - require executive interference. - - Very truly, - - ELIOT BEEKMAN. - -"What the devil does he want?" growled Wilkinson, taking the letter -from Morehead, and tossing it to Leslie. "Is it money or political -preferment? Haven't I given him enough?" his anger increasing as he -went on. "I made him----" - -"Stop!" cried Morehead, alarmed lest he should betray to her their -political secret. - -"I mean I gave him my daughter," corrected the father, "everything I -had." - -Morehead stared at them a moment from under knitted brows. Presently he -said: - -"Peter, I'd send Leslie to him. This letter is only tentative." - -"It's a refusal," gasped Wilkinson, hopelessly. - -"It's a denial to me," explained Colonel Morehead. "But wait until he -sees her! He'll have something different to say to her, I know." - -And so it happened that the following day Leslie Wilkinson arrived at -Albany to interview her betrothed on her father's behalf. - -"I came to talk to you, Eliot, about my father," she began. - -Beekman swayed in his chair. His eyes seemed sunken in his head, and -his head ached from weariness and lack of sleep. - -"Yes, Leslie," he said. - -"Colonel Morehead didn't--couldn't understand what your letter meant, -so I came to see." - -"It means that I can't pardon your father, Leslie," he told her with -great difficulty. - -"Why not?" - -"Because your father is guilty----" - -"Eliot!" she cried, leaping back with flashing eyes. - -"But I must speak the truth, Leslie," said the Governor, "and that's -the truth." - -There was a silence that lapsed into minutes. Beekman was the first to -break it. - -"Unfortunately for us all," he said, "I'm sworn to do my duty--I don't -know that it makes much difference about my being sworn--I'd have to do -it anyway." - -"You defended him," she said with sudden spirit. "You believed him -innocent then--you said so a thousand times." - -"I defended him below," he returned, "because it was my duty to defend -him. I had never seen any other side of the case then; but now I know I -was wrong. He's guilty, deliberately guilty, wofully guilty...." - -"Eliot, must I remind you that you are speaking of my father! Have I -no right, no influence, no claim upon you?" she rattled on breathlessly. - -"Yes, you have a claim upon me," he said, eyeing her sternly. "Your -influence is of the best, Leslie, and it is your right, your duty -to claim, to demand of me that I shall do my duty in this as in all -things. If I were false in this, I would be false to you." - -But Leslie could not see things in his light, bent as she was on -obtaining her father's pardon. - -"You pardoned Giles Ilingsworth?" she went on; "and now you won't...." - -"Yes, I pardoned Giles Ilingsworth," he admitted. - -"A murderer!" she blazed forth. - -"I pardoned him because he was innocent," he insisted. - -"And you can't pardon my father?" - -Eliot Beekman did not answer at once, but hung his head under the -girl's scrutinising gaze. She looked very beautiful, irresistibly -beautiful to him pleading there, and for a moment he came perilously -near to wavering in his purpose. He would have liked to have taken her -in his arms, to have uttered the one word of all others that she wished -to hear and to have sent her home happy. But, hard as it was to deny -her, he knew from the first that it was impossible to grant her request. - -"No, Leslie, I can't," he told her at last. - -"Look at me!" she cried, now changing her tactics. "I haven't slept, I -haven't eaten! Have you no pity for me--if not for him?" - -"But, Leslie, you're asking me to commit a crime!" - -"Just a stroke of the pen, dear, and my father will be free," she -went on, half sobbing, half smiling. "It's his last chance--my last -chance--surely you can't, you won't refuse me this." - -Then followed a scene that lived in Beekman's memory for ever -after--the memory of a woman, the woman he loved, crawling after him on -her knees, pleading, almost writhing in agony, imploring him to do this -impossible thing--a thing that, were it not for his conscience, was so -ridiculously easy: merely the exercising of the authority vested in -him, and solely in him, and thus save the father of the woman he loved -from serving a term of ten years at hard labour in the State's Prison. - -"Why was I ever Governor!" burst out Beekman. - -"I'll tell you why," said Wilkinson, striding suddenly into the room. -"It's because I made you Governor, that's why! I--I bought you the -job--I----" - -"You?" ejaculated Beekman. - -"Yes, it is true," said Flomerfelt, gliding also into the scene. "You -owe it all to Peter V." - -"Now you've got to do it!" exclaimed Leslie, staggering to her feet. - -Beekman eyed them all with growing determination. He was beginning to -see things clearly now. - -"I even gave you my daughter, confound you!" went on Wilkinson. - -Beekman turned back to his desk and stood there, calm now, desperately -calm. - -"So you made me Governor just to get this pardon?" - -Flomerfelt started to speak, but Wilkinson was before him. - -"Yes," snarled Wilkinson, "just to get this pardon. Do you think for an -instant that you were put here for any other reason? Or that you had -any qualifications for the office?" - -Leslie laughed a discordant laugh, and Flomerfelt, seeing at once that -the girl was in complete sympathy with her father, stepped back behind -them. - -"There are many good reasons, Mr. Wilkinson," said the Governor, -grimly, "Why you should not be pardoned. Needless to say you know -what they are. But," he added fiercely, for he knew that he had been -tricked, "if there were no other reason, the fact that you had put me -here to secure your pardon would make it impossible for me to act." He -stopped and stared at Leslie, his eyes unconsciously seeking hers for -sympathy, but something there shocked him beyond measure, and before he -was aware of what he was saying, he blurted out: - -"Did you give me your daughter for the same season? Did you, Leslie----" - -There was a deep silence in which the attention of all was focussed on -the girl. - -"Mr. Beekman," she said, in a cold, hard voice, though her eyes were -softly eager, "will you tell me once for all whether you're going to -pardon my father?" - -"I certainly am not going to pardon him," declared Beekman. - -Leslie favoured him with a little stinging laugh. - -"Then you'd better know the rest. Yes, it is true that my father gave -me to you--I gave myself to you for that very reason, and no other.... -I made a big mistake; so did he. We should have made our bargain before -we took that step. It would have been better." She paused to take -breath, and presently went on in a voice that rankled: "You talked once -to me of equals--and when you got this office you thought, at last, -that you were my equal. I know better; you're my inferior. And I want -you to know and to understand--and understand it clearly--that the -Wilkinsons do not mate with cowards." And with that she drew off her -ring and placed it before him, crying: "There!" - -An instant later, Leslie, strangling a sob that threatened to escape, -hurriedly fled from the room, her father and Flomerfelt following -closely on her heels. - - - - -XIX - - -In common with most men who have attained their ambition to be -money-kings, Peter V. Wilkinson regarded the legal profession solely -in the light of the ability of its members to provide processes for -him by means of which the law could be evaded. Failing in that or in -their promises of immunity from imprisonment,--which is much more -to the point in this case,--their usefulness, naturally, ceased. -Accordingly, from time to time, one after another of his superfluous -counsel had been dropped, even Patrick Durand, able criminal lawyer -as he was acknowledged to be, being forced to content himself with a -handsome souvenir of his connection with the case, to the exclusion of -any further interest in the expected spoils. Obviously, the old Colonel -was retained, but even this field marshal of a hundred campaigns, when -he arrived at the Wilkinson suite in the Remsen at Albany in response -to Wilkinson's imperative summons, had to acknowledge that the battle -of his life--the last battle of what he called the running fight--was -on, and likely, so at least it looked at the present time, to be his -Waterloo. - -It was but little wonder that, witnessing the burst of rage with which -Wilkinson had told him of the Governor's refusal to pardon, not to -speak of the pitiful state of collapse in which he found Leslie, that -thwarted and disappointed as he was, Colonel Morehead came to feel -that there was little likelihood of anything being immediately done -towards the forming of a new campaign. Practically, the Wilkinson -advisory committee had dwindled down to three--a triumvirate now, as it -were--for Flomerfelt, doubtless for reasons of his own, had returned -to New York; and Morehead at once set himself the task of forcing the -intellects of father and daughter to resume their functions. With the -girl it did not prove difficult. Womanlike, and despite her horror of -the inevitable, she flung aside her own personal troubles at the call -of the Colonel for a consultation, and entered the conclave intent on -helping her father in his last great struggle with an energy that she -determined would be boundless. - -"Colonel Morehead, why can't father go away?" suddenly said the girl. - -"Why not, Morehead?" asked Wilkinson, fairly jumping at her words. - -But the Colonel was still sullen. He was beaten, or thought he was, -which is very much the same thing. Wilkinson, on the contrary, seemed -to find new life in the moroseness of the other. And for the first -time in the struggle Wilkinson seemed to feel that the whole fight -rested on his own shoulders, and Wilkinson was one who dearly loved to -fight alone and single-handed. - -"Why not run away, Morehead?" he repeated. - -"How?" demanded the Colonel with little interest. - -"The _Marchioness_ ..." suggested Leslie. - -"And forfeit a million dollars bail?" - -"Yes. Why not?" - -"Don't make any mistake," declared Wilkinson, "they'll never get me -behind the bars again! Never! Not even if I have to----" A new strange -note had forced itself into his tone. Leslie, feeling suddenly cold, -crept closer to him. - -"Don't, don't talk that way, father!" she cried. "It shall never come -to that." - -Morehead, even, was alarmed. - -"Peter, you don't mean----" he began. - -"I mean," repeated the other, looking sturdily at him, "that if they -ever put me behind the bars, it will be after life has left my body." - -Leslie uttered a half-strangled cry and buried her face in her hands. -But Wilkinson only braced himself. - -"We haven't got to that yet, Colonel," he observed. There was a pause, -after which he repeated his question: "Why not run away, eh?" - -The Colonel thought a moment. Then, taking both Wilkinson and Leslie -by the arm marched them to the window and drew back the curtain. - -"Do you see that Italian fruit-vender over there selling figs to the -swell? They're Murgatroyd's men, both of them. Murgatroyd's got you -surrounded, sewed up, tied in. One of the elevator boys in the Remsen -here is a New York County man; the chambermaid of this suite is a -detective. Murgatroyd has sworn that you won't get away. It may cost -the County of New York a million dollars, but you know Murgatroyd! And, -besides, behind him stand the National Banks. How much will they put up -to break you, eh? Murgatroyd will put you behind the bars as sure as -guns--unless----" He stopped, his eyes were half shut. - -"Unless----" repeated father and daughter, leaning forward. - -Morehead did not answer at once. His mind was working fast; he was -evidently feeling his way clear before committing himself. Suddenly he -said: - -"Peter, how long have you worn a beard?" - -The question seemed so irrelevant that the millionaire started. - -"Why, nearly all my life," he answered. "I've--I've never shaved. -But----" - -"It was so bristly," explained the Colonel, "that I thought it might be -the result of shaving; but everything about you bristles, so I guess -it's nature and not art. When you first saw it coming, you let it grow, -didn't you--and you've had it ever since?" - -Peter V. did not like the turn the conversation was taking, and merely -nodded. - -The Colonel uncrossed his legs and sat on the edge of the table, facing -them. - -"How do you look without a beard?" he asked. - -Leslie laughed aloud in sheer delight. The problem seemed to be solving -itself, but how or in what way she could not see. - -"Blamed if I know," answered Wilkinson. "I don't even remember how I -used to look without a beard, and as for photographs, well, in former -days those luxuries were not for me, you know." - -Colonel Morehead stuck his hands into his armpits and rested his chin -upon his shirt front. Presently he went on: - -"Peter, you know this is Murgatroyd's pet case. It's his first in his -series of raids upon the iniquitous rich. He means to see to it that -you serve ten years--less good behaviour. From the time you put up -your million-dollar bail bond he has had you watched. Of course his -task is a tremendous one. You and I know that time and time again we -have eluded the vigilance of his men; and we know that we can do it -again for a time; but that doesn't alter the situation. If you should -disappear, every hotel, every train, every steamship would be thronged -with plainclothes men. You can't get out of the United States, and -you can't get out of the State, unless--you can't, in fact, elude -Murgatroyd for any time at all, unless----" Again he stopped, and again -Leslie and her father chimed in insistently: - -"Unless----" - -"Unless you follow my directions." - -"What are they?" quickly asked the others. - -"You've got to leave your beard and your name and all your worldly -goods----" went on the Colonel, but he checked himself in time. - -"My worldly possessions being minus anyway," sighed Wilkinson, helping -the Colonel out. - -"You've got to leave, even Mrs. Peter V.," smiled Morehead. - -"Heaven forbid!" exclaimed Wilkinson with mock solemnity; then he -added: "I can leave the lady with eminent complacency." - -"And also," went on Morehead, mercilessly, "you must leave your -daughter." - -There was a sharp cry from Leslie, but Wilkinson gave no sign. He -merely sniffed hopefully, for he smelled freedom in all this. - -"Go on!" he commanded, ignoring the quivering palm that Leslie laid -upon his hand. - -"You've got to leave them all and never come back to them," continued -the Colonel; and bending closer and lowering his voice to a whisper, he -added: "Leave everything that you've got in the world, you understand?" - -Wilkinson muttered an oath under his breath, for next to liberty his -wealth was dear to him. In fact, he now arranged in his mind the -relative importance of things: first, liberty--he must have that at any -cost; second, the millions that he had stowed away; third, his daughter -Leslie. - -"Why have I got to leave them all?" he demanded, "and why never come -back at all?" - -"Because," said his counsel, "if you so much as plank down a ten-dollar -bill for a railroad ticket after you disappear, you will be suspected. -The county men, the police in other cities will be on the look-out for -a man with money; they will not search the lodging-houses. You must not -be caught. It takes nerve, but you've got to do it. You've got to say -good-bye to everything." - -There was a moment's silence; then Wilkinson answered: - -"Where could I go?" - -"Anywhere you like. Disappear. But don't buy a railroad ticket if you -can help it. Don't try to leave the country, for if you do they'll get -you. Don't do anything that a man with a roll of bills might do. Play -the part of a tramp." - -For a time they pondered the situation. The Colonel was the first to -break the ruminating silence, and said: - -"Of course your bail would be forfeited, and that would leave your -daughter penniless." - -This remark was for Leslie's benefit. Nevertheless he knew that after -Wilkinson had gone, some way could be found in which his huge fortune -might gradually be used for her. - -"I don't care at all about being penniless!" cried Leslie, springing to -her feet. "All I care for, is--but can't I go with father?" - -"That's out of the question--they'd get me in an hour if you did." -There was nothing paternal in Wilkinson's voice, for the primal -principle had him in its clutch. Leslie was hurt by this seeming -indifference to her; it was not given to her to comprehend fully that -her father was making, in actuality, a fight for his life. - -"You must understand, Leslie, that this means an absolute loss of -identity, or ten years behind the bars for your father," explained -Colonel Morehead. - -Wilkinson rose, and walking to the window glanced down at the fruit man -on the other side of the street, and then came back. - -"How long time have I, Colonel, before----" - -"There'll be no trouble about time," was the Colonel's reply. "I -can still string it on for months. Summer is coming on--the long -vacation----" - -Wilkinson rewarded him with a crafty, exultant smile. He saw in this -plan nothing save success. Firmly he believed that there was some way -after all by which, whether he was in Paris, San Francisco or some -other place, he could draw back his millions, even if it had to be -accomplished in the slow way that formerly he had drawn them from his -depositors. - -"Liberty first, then----" he said half-aloud; and turning to his -daughter, whose presence for the moment he had forgotten, he added: -"Isn't it more than bedtime, child? You must be mighty tired, little -girl. You're a mighty loyal one, anyhow." - -Leslie held out her hand to Colonel Morehead. - -"Don't worry, my girl," said the Colonel, kindly, "it's going to come -out all right. I feel it, somehow, and I know you do, too. Good-night!" - -But the Colonel's words did not banish the look of worriment on -Leslie's face; and going over to her father, now, she clung to him -insistently, pressing her flushed face against his breast, saying: - -"Father, you're not going to leave me to-night?" - -"Not for many nights," he answered, patting her head; and a moment -after, Leslie withdrew. - -For a brief ten minutes the client and his attorney waited in silence. -Suddenly, then, Morehead stepped to a door and opened it, and a man -came in. - -It cannot be said that the newcomer was wanting in self-possession, and -his bow to Morehead was one of respect. But that he stood in awe of -Wilkinson, his manner while awaiting orders gave ample evidence. - -"Sit down, Phillips," said Wilkinson. "Have a cigar?" - -Governor Beekman's secretary helped himself to a cigar, and in fact, -made himself quite at home. - -"Now then, what are we going to do with this man Beekman?" asked the -millionaire, his face flushed, his mouth hardening. "He's got to get -his--and get it right away." - -Morehead held up his hand. - -"Peter V., do you think it advisable to----. Why not let Beekman alone -until...." - -"I'll do nothing of the kind!" snapped back Wilkinson. "Do you think -I'm not going to hit him back? I don't want that kind of advice from -you, Colonel. What I do want, is for you to tell me the quickest -way...." - -The Colonel swung about and closed his eyes, puffing unconcernedly at -his cigar. - -"I think," he remarked mildly, "that you'd better leave me out of this. -Vengeance is not in my line. I'll have to leave that part to you and -Mr. Phillips here." - -"What do you say, Phillips?" demanded Wilkinson. - -"_Impeachment_," answered Phillips. - -"Can it be done?" - -"Easy as rolling off a log." - -"Good--good as far as it goes; but it don't go far enough. We want to -be as hard as we can." - -"I think that can be arranged without trouble, too." - -"How will we get him?" - -"Suppose you leave that to me. You'll back me up?" - -Wilkinson clenched his fist. - -"Go the limit, Phillips--I'll back you up. The traitor! And to think -that this man Beekman might have had anything he wanted." - -"The _Reporter_ and the _Star_ will back me, too?" - -"To the limit." - -"We'll need public opinion with us, don't forget that, Mr. Wilkinson." - -"Pshaw, I'll take care of that." - -"How long are you going to stay in Albany?" - -Wilkinson raised his hand high in the air, as one about to take an oath. - -"Until I've done up this man Beekman," was the magnate's answer to the -Governor's private secretary. - -Two days later charges of corruption against Governor Beekman had -been presented to the legislature. A petition for his impeachment had -been handed up; and a committee of three appointed to investigate the -charges and to report. What the charges were was not quite clear upon -the first news of the affair; but that they were serious seemed to be -conceded. - -Upon the evening of the very day of the appointment of the committee -of three, a woman stepped into the lobby of the Remsen in Albany and -exhibited a letter to the clerk. The letter was written upon the -private letter-head of Governor Beekman and was addressed to a woman. - -The clerk raised his eyebrows imperceptibly, and calling a boy ordered -him to take the lady to the Governor's suite. - -At the Governor's suite the woman was met by a maid, who unhesitatingly -admitted her and escorted her into the Governor's den--a small room -fitted with window-seats and couches galore. - -"Are you sure this is all right?" asked the woman, somewhat alarmed at -the effusive way in which she was made so suddenly at home. - -The maid insisted that it was; that Governor Beekman was on his way up -from New York; and that he was expected at any moment. The maid left, -locking the door behind her. - -Alone in this room the woman settled herself comfortably back to wait -for the Governor. She had not long to wait, however, for presently the -door opened and three men entered the reception-room. From where she -sat she could see them, but they could not see her; and except for -their being perhaps a bit unkempt, she noted that they were of the -ordinary type of business men. - -"I suppose this is all right," she heard one of the men saying. - -"Of course it is," said another. "We've got a search warrant from the -House, and anyway, we haven't broken in. I'd like to know how you're -going to keep a legislative committee out of any place. We've got our -rights, you know." - -The woman shrank into a corner, fearing that any moment they might find -her there. But they merely waited in the outer room, expectantly. - -"Wonder what he'll have to say for himself?" queried one. - -A second man laughed. - -"There's nothing to it," he returned, "we're on a wild goose chase. -Bribery? Nonsense! Beekman's as straight as a die." - -"Suppose," said the third, "that we wait until we find out all about -it. Suppose----" He broke off abruptly, for someone was knocking at -the door; and looking up he saw that two people had entered the room. - -When the woman in the inner room perceived who had entered, she could -not suppress an exclamation, which, fortunately, however, did not reach -the ears of Leslie and her father, who were now bowing to the three -committee-men. - -"I beg your pardon," said Wilkinson, "but can you tell me when the -Governor is likely to return? We----" he smiled awkwardly, "we were -summoned by him to meet him here at this hour." - -One of the Assemblymen, a New York man, leaned over to his neighbour, -and said: "That's Wilkinson." Whereupon, the others rose and bowed, and -answered: - -"We were told that he'd be here any minute now." And as if in -confirmation of his words, the door suddenly opened, and Governor -Beekman, with a light but hurried step, came into the room. - -"I beg your pardon," he said, when he saw who was standing before him. - -Leslie turned to him involuntarily, and half acknowledged his bow; then -remembering, she quickly turned away, and looked at her father, fixedly. - -The three men pressed forward at once, the chairman speaking. - -"Governor," he said, "you understand why we're here. You've had a copy -of the impeachment charges." - -Beekman flushed. - -"I received them in New York and came up as fast as I could," he -answered, a little brusquely. "What can I do for you?" - -"I beg your pardon, Governor Beekman, but I received this note from you -and have obeyed it. Can you see us first?" asked Wilkinson. - -The Governor took the note, which was written on his heavy, private -letter-head, and read it. It ran: - - _Dear Mr. Wilkinson_: - - Will you and your daughter, Miss Wilkinson, kindly call at my - suite in the Remsen this evening at eight o'clock. I desire to see - you at that time. - - Very truly yours, - - ELIOT BEEKMAN. - -For a moment Beekman was nonplussed and looked from the note to its -bearer. - -"I didn't write this letter," presently he said. He paled perceptibly; -his confusion, whatever it may have meant, was not lost on the three -committee-men. - -"You didn't write it," queried Wilkinson, coldly, "but isn't that your -signature?" - -"It looks like my signature," admitted the Governor, after scanning the -writing closely. - -"But I can't for the life of me think what I wanted to see you about." -And turning now to the three men, he added: "You'll excuse us, please." - -Leaving the three Assemblymen he ushered his guests into the next room. - -"Comfortable quarters, Governor," commented Wilkinson; "almost comes up -to mine at home." And switching on more lights, Peter V. strayed boldly -into the inner room. "Hello, hello, who's here?" he suddenly called out. - -The woman who had been sitting on a couch came forth. She was plainly -agitated at the sight of the two men and the woman who now stood facing -her, for Leslie, unconsciously, had pressed to her father's side. In -the background, too, were the three committee-men. - -"Governor, it's all my fault," said Wilkinson, somewhat contritely. "I -beg your pardon for intruding on your--your privacy." - -The moment was a tense one, the Governor not daring to glance at Leslie. - -"There must be some mistake," he stammered out; and then advancing -towards the woman, he demanded angrily: "How did you----" but stopped -suddenly in amazement. "Why, Miss Braine--how do you come to be here?" - -Madeline Braine drew from her bosom a crumpled note. - -"I--I don't know," she faltered, "that is, I received this note from -you and I came. I supposed it was about the--the Ilingsworth case...." - -Wilkinson threw a significant glance over his shoulder toward the three -committee-men. - -"The Ilingsworth case," he repeated scornfully, meaningly. - -"They--the maid--ushered me in here," went on the woman. - -"What maid?" demanded the Governor, puzzled. "I have no maid. And, -what's more, I didn't write this letter--it's something that I cannot -understand." - -"It's something that _we_ do not wish to understand," said Wilkinson, -suggestively. - -"I told you I would come whenever you wanted me," murmured Madeline -Braine, waving the note, in her agitation, toward the Governor, "and I -came." - -Wilkinson chuckled inwardly. In an instant he turned to his daughter -and whispered in a voice that could be heard all over the room: - -"Leslie, clearly this is no place for you. A Governor who turns his -apartments into.... Come, dear!" And he made a hurried movement to go. -But the Governor was too quick for him and blocked his path. His face -had gone white with anger; he cried out: - -"What do you mean, sir?" - -Wilkinson sneered. - -"Do you want me to say it here?" - -"You've got to say it here," returned the other. - -Wilkinson waved his hand toward Miss Braine. - -"Then please explain her presence in your apartments,--your private, -apartments, if you can!" - -"I will not!" responded Beekman, looking at everybody save Leslie. "I -will not, because I cannot. Nor will she, because neither can she." - -"A complete misunderstanding all around," laughed Wilkinson. -"Nevertheless, I prefer to take my daughter to her rooms." And again he -made a movement to go. - -"You won't take your daughter to her rooms until you give me a good -reason why you're here, and why you choose to make these remarks," said -Beekman, belligerently. - -"I'll answer the last part of your question first because it's easier. -I choose to make these remarks because you're Governor of the State of -New York, and as a citizen of the State, I have a right to object to a -woman of her reputation...." - -"A woman of my reputation, did you say?" said Madeline Braine quietly, -and so marvellously well did she succeed in keeping her anger out of -her voice that not for one moment did Wilkinson suspect the action -that was to follow. In a trice she had seized him by the throat with -the whole strength of her woman's hands and was pinning him up against -the wall. - -"Peter Wilkinson," she cried, "I'll teach you not to speak ill of a -woman!" - -But scarcely had these words fallen from her lips when she loosened her -hands and threw herself into a chair, sobbing. With merely a glance -at the woman who had assaulted him in this fashion, Wilkinson quickly -hurried to his daughter's side, who seemed on the point of fainting. It -was only a short time, however, before the woman had become calm, and -Beekman, turning to Wilkinson, demanded: - -"What is the meaning of this? So you know Miss Braine?" - -Again the worst in Wilkinson's nature asserted itself; he answered the -Governor's question with a question. - -"Do you know this woman's history, Governor Beekman?" - -The woman had gathered herself together and stood motionless with -downcast eyes, silent, inert. - -In his turn the Governor ignored the man's question and demanded: - -"Miss Braine, do you know this man?" - -The woman hesitated, while her eyes slowly wandered across the room -and rested on Leslie, standing with her hand in that of her father. A -moment more and Madeline Braine had answered firmly: - -"No, except through this Ilingsworth case." - -"The Ilingsworth case!" exclaimed Wilkinson; "always the Ilingsworth -case! Some day, Governor, the Ilingsworth case will be your undoing. -Some day----" - -Again there was an interruption. The private secretary pushed his way -into the group. He was received by the Governor, with: - -"Phillips, I'm delighted you've come. There's the biggest mix-up here -you ever saw. I don't understand it--nobody understands anything." - -He stopped short, for Phillips stood facing him with a curious -expression on his countenance, and holding out a folded letter. - -"My resignation as your private secretary, Governor Beekman." - -"Resignation!" - -"My reasons are obvious, but they are nevertheless stated in that -letter, and they will appear in the columns of the press to-morrow. It -is quite beyond me to remain upon the staff of a man who ..." Phillips' -voice quivered. He turned to the committee of three, and addressing -them, said: - -"Gentlemen, much as I dislike to follow your instructions, I have, -nevertheless, obeyed your _subpoena duces tecum_. In obedience thereto -I hand you the papers that you came here to find. I found them, not -here, but in the Governor's room at the Capitol. I think this is all -you want of me." - -The chairman of the committee took the papers in question and read -them, his associates looking over his shoulder; and when they had -finished reading them they looked at each other with an expression -on their faces, the meaning of which could easily be interpreted -without the exclamatory assurance given by one of them: "By George! -we've got the goods," highly illustrative of the situation as was that -gentleman's phraseology. - -"Well?" The Governor was speaking now. - -For answer they handed him two letters, one of which read: - - _My dear Beekman_: - - I now concede that the inducement offered in our interview of - yesterday was insufficient to justify you in acting in the - suggested manner. Let me now say, however, that the situation has - lifted itself out of the Ilingsworth case--we are fast climbing to - a higher plane. The legislature will pass our Trust Company law, - abolishing trust companies. I shall see to that. You must sign - the bill--you must see to that. There is a step beyond. We need - National legislation extending the power of National Banks--we - need good men in the Senate. Let me be clear--these are the things - we want: Wilkinson must be smashed. The first step toward that is - the pardon of Ilingsworth, for the Ilingsworth case gets us public - opinion--you can see that. Wilkinson has got to serve his term, - otherwise he is a dangerous element. Pardon Ilingsworth, refuse - to pardon Wilkinson, sign the Trust Company Bill--all this you - can do for us. We can do much for you--beyond you lies the United - States Senatorship, and beyond that, who knows.... A good New York - man is in line for many things--if he's got the backing. You will - have ours. Better burn this letter. - - Yours, etc., - - OUGHELTREE. - -The Governor read this letter silently, unmoved, and proceeded with -the other, which was not an original letter, but a carbon copy. It was -addressed to Ougheltree and was signed by Beekman. - - "_Dear Sir_," it ran, "I am in receipt of your communication - with reference to the Ilingsworth petition for pardon. I note - everything you say and have considered it carefully. I shall do my - best to decide this case upon its merits, and will advise you of - the result. - - "Very truly, - - "ELIOT BEEKMAN." - -"This letter," said the Governor, handing the letters back and -referring to the carbon copy, "is a copy of my letter to Ougheltree; -the other letter I never saw." - -"But isn't it strange," asked the chairman, "that yours is an answer to -the other. Besides, his letter is dated one day, yours the next." - -The Governor took the letters again and looked them over still more -carefully. Finally he ordered Phillips to go to his, Beekman's, -private room and fetch Ougheltree's letter of that date. - -"This is his letter of that date," returned Phillips, referring to the -one already read. - -"Ougheltree did write me a letter of that date, gentlemen," conceded -the Governor, eyeing the other sternly. Whereupon Wilkinson winked -broadly at the committee, and the chairman took notes upon a little -pad. "But this is not the letter." - -The chairman smiled. - -"It's very strange," he said, meaningly. - -The committee returned to the reception-room and took seats round the -table. - -"You understand, Governor," said the chairman, "that we are -commissioned to report on these charges. We came here partly to get -evidence, partly to get your statement. You understand that the -Ilingsworth case is the pivot on which this turns." - -"I understand that, Mr. Chairman," said the Governor. - -"Do you mind telling us just why you pardoned this man Ilingsworth?" -inquired the other. - -Leslie leaned forward, drinking in every word. Even the lingering -respect that she had for Beekman was fast leaving her. Her father -had seen to that. Beekman was already sinking beneath the surface. -Wilkinson intended that he should go down into ignominy shunned by all. - -Beekman still addressed the men of the committee, but now he looked at -Leslie. - -"Everybody knows why I pardoned Ilingsworth," he said. "Ilingsworth -didn't commit the crime." - -The chairman poised his pencil. - -"So it was a matter not susceptible of proof, wholly within your own -knowledge and the knowledge of no one else?" - -"Yes, that is true." - -"Come, Leslie," said her father, drawing her away; and turning to -Beekman he eyed him severely, and added "The price must have been big! -Too thin, Governor--that's too thin!" - -The next day the _Star_ and the _Reporter_ took up the hue and cry -against him. "Too thin" was the _Star's_ headline, while the _Reporter_ -denounced Beekman in scathing language; contended that in pardoning -such a man as Ilingsworth the Governor had deliberately let loose on -the community a murderer and an anarchist; and assured its readers that -in refusing clemency to Wilkinson the Governor had in cowardice yielded -to the popular clamour that someone should be made to suffer for the -iniquitous methods of the great financiers of the present day. - -"The present incumbent at Albany is a blot on the escutcheon of the -Empire State," the editorial concluded. "The sooner the blot is wiped -out the better." - -The next day public opinion was swinging strongly against the Governor. -And, on his own motion, Beekman was suspended from office until the -charges against him had been tried. - -The next day Ougheltree's denial was ridiculed. What is more, the -_Morning Mail_, Ougheltree's paper, did not dare to take up the cudgels -in the Governor's behalf: it could no longer defend a man who was -charged with being implicated with its chief, since to do so would be -to admit its owner's part in the conspiracy. And yet Ougheltree was as -innocent as a new-born babe of having written the incriminating letter. - -In short, Beekman was doomed. He had climbed the hill and for an -instant had stood in the glory of the sunlight, only to find himself -suddenly dashed down to the bottom at break-neck pace. - -But not even this satisfied Wilkinson. Closeted later with Flomerfelt -in the big house on the Drive he ground his heel into the rug of his -den, exclaiming: - -"Never until he wallows in the mud, Flomerfelt, will I let up on him!" - -And in all this what of Leslie? - -Irrefutable evidence had been presented to her of the Governor's -unworthiness, and little wonder, then, that she had ranged herself -upon her father's side. Nevertheless, there were times when she would -shudder in silence. For out in the future it was certain that one of -three things must happen to her father, and she dreaded any one of -them. - - - - -XX - - -"I suppose there is some painless way of putting him to death?" - -The voice was Wilkinson's. He was seated on the veranda at Cobblestone, -his Morris County place, and opposite to him sat a complacent, -side-whiskered M. D. from Morristown. The complacence of the M. D. -was due in great measure to the fact that a check reposed in his -waistcoat-pocket. It was a goodly check, too; Wilkinson had been -ailing, and the bill was heavy. - -"I don't want him to suffer at all," went on Wilkinson. "I merely want -him to pass away and not feel it." - -"Humph! He's of no further use?" returned Dr. Parker Wetherell. - -"Tigerskin is twenty years old, nearly blind, and can hardly hobble a -step. My dear Wetherell, that horse has won me no end of money on the -track! He's been worth his weight in gold! I hate to think of him as -dead." He laid a cold hand upon the doctor's. "How about chloroform? -It's safe, painless----" - -"It's painless enough," interrupted the physician, "but it's not always -sure." - -Wilkinson's hand trembled. - -"It kills men sure enough, doesn't it?" - -Wetherell shook his head. - -"Not sure enough," he answered. "They come out of it when one least -expects it." - -"Strychnine, then, or prussic acid?" suggested Wilkinson. - -Again Wetherell shook his head. - -"I wouldn't give either of them to my dearest enemy," he opined. "My -advice is, not...." He drew forth a tiny cigarette and lighted it. -"My suggestion, Mr. Wilkinson--of course I'm not a horse doctor, and -there's no charge for this--my method, rather, would be powder and -shot--the old-fashioned way...." - -"Pistol?" - -"Yes." - -"A pistol bullet through the heart?" went on Wilkinson, his hand still -resting lightly on the doctor's and his voice trembling. "Let's see, -you know I'm going to do this thing myself,--a horse's heart is in the -same place as a man's, isn't it?" He placed his hand on the right side -of his chest about even with his shoulder. - -"Good gracious, man!" piped up the doctor, growing red in the face with -laughter. "Don't you know where your heart is? Didn't you ever go to -school?" - -Wilkinson flushed. - -"Don't tread on facts, Doc," he protested. - -"Your heart is right there," explained the physician, placing the -millionaire's big paw-like hand over the right spot, and waiting until -Wilkinson could feel it throb. "You hear it beat?" he asked. "That's -where your heart is; but don't ever shoot a horse, or a man, either, -through the heart unless you want him to suffer the tortures of the -damned. He might linger hours in terrific pain. No, no, the head's the -place...." - -Wilkinson shifted his hand from his heart to his head. - -"Quickly, eh?" he continued eagerly, "and painless, too." - -The specialist replied in the affirmative. - -"Suppose, now," continued Peter V., "that we had old Tigerskin here. -Just what part of the head would I aim at? Back here?" - -"The temple," said the doctor. - -"That's back here, isn't it?" persisted his patient, forcing a laugh at -his own ignorance. "Where is it on a horse, anyhow?" - -Parker Wetherell touched his own forehead, and said: - -"Just about where it is on a man. Right here at the side of the head in -front of the ear." - -Wilkinson had withdrawn his hand and was tapping the table in front of -him nervously. - -"Doc," he insisted, "just put my finger on the spot--here on my -head--and when I get Tigerskin, why then I'll know...." - -The physician seized his patient's pudgy finger, held it for an instant -poised half an inch from the big man's head, and then jammed it into -the temple with precision. - -"There," he exclaimed, "that's just the spot!" - -"You don't say," returned Wilkinson. "I never would have thought -it--and a ball through there would do the trick?" - -"Man or beast--he'd never know what struck him." And then as Wilkinson -removed his arm, the doctor sprang forward in alarm, and added: "Why, -look, here, Mr. Wilkinson, you've smeared a lot of ink up there!" - -"Where?" - -"On your temple. Your finger must have dipped into the inkwell...." - -Wilkinson looked at his finger with a grimace, then he looked at the -surface of the table upon which was a round, wet splotch of ink. Upon -the end of his finger, which evidently had rested for an instant upon -the spot on the table, was a similar splotch; and when Wetherell had -jammed the finger into his temple, it being still moist with the dusky -fluid, it had left a small round spot on his forehead. With a hasty -movement Wilkinson drew forth his handkerchief and started it on the -way to his head. - -"Hold on!" he suddenly exclaimed. "I'll get my kerchief stained, too. -I'll go to the bathroom and wash it off, if you'll excuse me." - -Wilkinson rose, but some sudden tremour seemed to seize him. - -"Nerves a bit shaky yet, Doc," he complained. And, turning, walked -through an open window. Behind the palms his daughter Leslie was -reading a book; she had heard scraps of the conversation without, and -glanced up at him questioningly. "Trying to find out just where to -shoot old Tigerskin," he stopped to explain, "and got myself all ink." - -Leslie laughed, and he continued his way through the room and up one -flight of stairs to the bathroom. - -"A bull's-eye--a perfect bull's-eye that," he whispered to himself, -looking in the glass. Then suddenly whipping out of his hip-pocket a -revolver, he aimed for the small, black spot upon his forehead. - -Parker Wetherell, M. D., down on the veranda, having taken from his -waistcoat-pocket Leslie's check, was glancing on it with reverence; but -soon the reverie into which he had plunged was rudely interrupted: a -pistol shot rang out, followed almost instantly by a woman's scream. -Wetherell leaped to his feet. - -"He tricked me," he whispered, turning pale, "the painless method was -for himself, not for Tigerskin." - -With an answering shout he ran pell-mell up the stairs. In the bathroom -he found three people: Hawkins, Wilkinson's new valet, Leslie and -Wilkinson, the latter swaying to and fro in the grasp of the other two. -In his hand he held a smoking revolver; and as the doctor seized him, -he smiled a ghastly smile and exclaimed: - -"I missed it, Doc! Missed!... My little painless program didn't pull -through!" - -That night all Morris County, all New York, had the news, specials -having been gotten out by the various papers to that effect. - -"It's up to you, Hawkins," said the District Attorney over the wire to -Wilkinson's new valet; "we've got to have this man alive, and not dead. -You've got to be Johnny-on-the-spot every minute of the time." - -And that was precisely what was the trouble, so far as Wilkinson -was concerned. Hawkins was too much Johnny-on-the-spot to suit his -purposes. Down in his home on the Drive Jeffries had resigned from his -position, and the new man who took his place was one of Murgatroyd's -shrewdest men, which meant that Peter V. Wilkinson, under a ten-year -sentence, out on a million-dollar bail, was surrounded by a net-work -of Murgatroyd's making. Murgatroyd was seeing to it successfully that -Wilkinson couldn't run away. Wilkinson had said that one of three -things confronted him: prison, flight or suicide. The second seemed -to have been eliminated from the program of possibilities; the first -he had sworn never to endure; and as for suicide, Murgatroyd had -said it was up to Hawkins.... But there were other guards also who -interposed: Leslie watched her father as a mother watches an errant -child. Wetherell, too, sniffing more big checks, suggested other -safeguards, and called with undue regularity. Every servant in the -household and even the pudgy Mrs. Wilkinson herself--Flomerfelt had -warned her that his death now would upset all their plans--kept on the -look-out. Morristown druggists were warned to be sure to whom they sold -poisons. Express and mail packages were scrutinised with care. No end -of precaution was being exercised to thwart his plans. - -"Seems to be an awful lot of fuss about it," remarked Mrs. Peter V., as -she scanned the daily press. "If I tried suicide, I wonder...." - -"Probably not," grinned Wilkinson, feebly, "unless you succeeded in the -attempt." - -Now Murgatroyd's men were handicapped in one respect: Murgatroyd -never trained detectives to be servants; he trained servants to be -detectives. Hawkins, the valet, and Watson, Jeffries' successor, -were born to yellow plush, and had acquired the detective polish -later. Their handicap was, that they must maintain their character -as servants. They must obey, must efface themselves, must serve ... -otherwise the game was spoiled. When Wilkinson roared a command which -sent them off for half an hour, they had to go. But the intervention of -the family now helped them out: it became an unwritten rule that Peter -V. must never be left alone, save in the night-time when he slept in -an apartment stripped of everything save a bed and chair. This last -arrangement he consented to only after Wetherell had threatened him -with sanatorium confinement. - -It happened, therefore, that one day, Wilkinson, weary of this close -surveillance, remarked to Leslie: - -"Let's go back to the Drive, child. I'm sick of the still nights up -here." - -And indeed Leslie was not sorry of the opportunity to go. There was -one reason in particular for this: Cobblestone was but a quarter of a -mile away from the Ilingsworth place; and Ilingsworth's place, like -its former owner, had become a wreck. It was overgrown with weeds, was -falling gradually to pieces; upon it had been laid the heavy hand of -disuse and decay. The heavy mortgage on the place had been foreclosed; -the property laid vacant, idle; it had become an eye-sore to Leslie. -Besides, vague rumour had it that the place was haunted--lights, -even, having been seen in the rooms at night. It was none of these -things, however, that had disquieted Leslie, but the fact that one -night at dusk as she tripped along the road, a man had darted from the -road-side, and laying a detaining hand upon her arm, had said to her: - -"I wish you could help me find my daughter. I've tried to beg, borrow, -steal even, to get enough to find her, but----" he had stopped to -search her face, "but you're a Wilkinson, I see; you wouldn't help;" -and letting her go, he suddenly disappeared in the shadows. - -Naturally, the girl had been frightened. Afterwards, however, she -regretted that she had not tried to detain Ilingsworth, for he it was, -since there were mysteries about him which she could not understand. -If he had lost his daughter, why did he not use the money that he had -stowed away--the millions that her father had told her about,--and -why was the mortgage on his place foreclosed? The mortgage on her own -father's place had not been foreclosed, she was sure of that. And so -insistent became the pressure of these doubts that one night just -before they returned to town, she sent a servant over with a note to -Ilingsworth. Leslie knew him for a murderer, a forger, a perjurer, a -thief, and yet some instinct drove her to this act. - - " ... Some time," she wrote, "when we are out of our own trouble, - if there is anything that I can do--for Elinor--believe me I shall - do it--the very best I can." - -It now became known throughout the Wilkinson household -on-the-Drive--and, likewise, to the inner sanctum of District Attorney -Murgatroyd's office--that Peter V. Wilkinson contemplated a trip to -Maine. There was reason for it: the city sweltered in mid-August heat. -Peter V. had no house or shooting-box in Maine--his game being men, not -beasts,--and accordingly a suite of rooms at a hotel was engaged by -wire. Railroad tickets were purchased; trunks were packed; appointments -made with his nearest and dearest friends to meet him there for a -three-weeks' jaunt. Every essential detail was attended to; nothing was -overlooked. But there was one strange thing about it all: Leslie, who -usually accompanied him, was to be left behind; Wilkinson was going -alone with Hawkins. It was his frolic; he did not want to be hampered -by anyone. But Hawkins and the District Attorney knew that Wilkinson -would not be lonely: a chambermaid to have charge of his suite of rooms -at the hotel in Maine was despatched from the Borough of Manhattan; -two bell-boys were installed; from the instant that Wilkinson should -reach the East Side pier in New York he would be attended by a drove of -sleuths. - -But did Wilkinson have any suspicion of all this? If he did, not by -word or look did he betray as much. - -On the day of his departure, Peter V., with a matter-of-fact air, -handed to Hawkins a small, oblong, heavy, cold, metallic package, -saying: - -"Hawkins, just stick that in my suit-case." - -Alone, later, the valet opened and examined the package, and found, as -he suspected, that it contained another revolver, hammerless, sinister, -ominous. - -"Suicide in Maine!" He emitted a whistle, and added: "Not if I know it, -Mr. Wilkinson." - -He discussed at length with Murgatroyd the ease with which Wilkinson -might throw himself overboard, or might shoot or poison himself in his -stateroom. But "Hawkins, it's up to you to see that he doesn't ..." was -all the satisfaction that he received from the District Attorney. - -Their preparations completed, Hawkins now stepped into the presence of -his master, and announced: - -"Colonel Morehead, sir, to see you." - -Wilkinson descended to his Den, entered and locked the door behind him. -After fifteen minutes of desultory conversation, he held out his hand, -and said, his voice trembling: - -"Good-bye, old boy! We shall never meet in life again--good-bye!" - -Colonel Morehead stared curiously at his client. He asked no questions, -but merely took Peter's hand within his own and pressed it hard. - -"Good-bye, Peter," was all he said. - - * * * * * - -Wilkinson, watch in hand, stood at the open door. - -"Look sharp, now, with those grips," he directed. And turning to -Watson, his new footman: "Watson, time is the essence of this thing. Go -up and help Hawkins, and be quick about it, please." - -Out of the corner of his eye, Watson glanced at Wilkinson; that -gentleman was holding his gaze upon his watch. It all seemed safe.... -So Watson obeyed, running swiftly down the broad hall and swiftly up -the stairs. - -"Get a move on, Hawkins," he whispered; "he's down there all alone." - -The multi-millionaire waited until Watson was well out of sight, then -going quietly to the open door he passed through, and walking rapidly -to the corner of the street, turned and disappeared--disappeared, and -that was all that could be said about it. No, there was this to be -said: His trunks went on to Maine, and when opened there later were -found to reek with poison--anaesthetics, chiefly, that stupefied and -killed; while tucked away in one corner was a gun. Wilkinson had been -cunning: he had done things under the nose of Hawkins that Hawkins had -not surmised, much less seen. - -But Wilkinson had not quite disappeared after all! There were some -who saw him after his disappearance, though they were not members of -his household, nor were they officials in the employ of the county -or State: they were casual observers, mere pleasure-seekers down at -Brighton Beach. For later on that day a man with a bristling beard -stepped into Obermeyer's Bathing Pavilion at the Beach, stepped up to -the desk, as he had done several times before,--for Wilkinson loved -promiscuity--he was essentially of the people,--and nodding to the -clerk, passed out his wallet, his pin and other valuables, sealed them -in an envelope, writing his name quite plainly upon it, and handed it -to the man behind the desk. The recipient glanced at the name, glanced -at the man interestedly, then gave him a fifty-cent bathing-suit, -two checks on rubber strings and a key; and Wilkinson, taking these, -proceeded to his allotted booth. - -"Can I check that, too?" the clerk called after him, referring to -a brown paper parcel which Wilkinson carried under his arm. But -Wilkinson shook his head, and the incident passed out of the clerk's -mind, for the next man was becoming angrily insistent. - -Once inside his booth, Peter V. stripped to the skin and donned the -bathing-suit. So far he had followed the prescribed method of bathers -at Obermeyer's as well as every other pavilion in the universe. But -at this juncture he departed from custom: For having donned the -bathing-suit, he did not, as other men do, unlock the door and run -flat-footed to the beach; instead, he opened the brown paper bundle and -looked over its contents with considerable satisfaction. It contained a -complete suit of underwear, clothing, hat and shoes--all second-hand; -and over his Obermeyer bathing-suit he drew on these clothes, one by -one, jamming the soft, felt hat upon his head. Then folding up the -brown paper he tied it carefully with the string, and placed it in the -side-pocket of his coat, taking good care at the same time to remove -from the trousers pocket of the suit he had discarded a goodly roll of -bills. - -Now fully dressed in his new garments--leaving his own clothes behind, -he left the room, and locked the door, forgetting neither his brass -checks, nor to place the bathhouse key on the ledge above the door. - -"So far so good," he whispered to himself. - -Curiously enough, however, he did not join the crowds upon the -beach, but sought another bathing pavilion a quarter of a mile -away--Helmstaedter's--where he was not known. There he repeated the -process: went to the desk; obtained a twenty-five cent bathing-suit, -but this time he deposited no valuables, having none that were visible. -Then with his second bathing-suit he stepped into one of Helmstaedter's -dressing-rooms, and again he undressed, stripping to the skin as -before, and donning now the Helmstaedter bathing-suit, he opened the -door, closed it behind him, and took his way to the beach. - -And now, since Peter V. had gone to Brighton Beach for the ostensible -purpose of bathing, Peter V. bathed. But strangely enough, though -he had Helmstaedter's bathing-suit upon him, he did not bathe from -Helmstaedter's; on the contrary, he strode up the beach and bathed at -Obermeyer's. An expert swimmer, he was known to the life guard, who saw -him and warned him with: - -"Better look out, Mr. Wilkinson, two big men had cramps out there -yesterday. I had the time of my life bringing them in." - -"Never mind me," laughed Wilkinson, "there's no fear of my having -cramps to-day." And with that he plunged boldly into the surf. When -the life guard last saw him, Wilkinson was merely a speck far out upon -the surface of the sunlit sea. - - * * * * * - -That evening, while all New York was looking for him, while Hawkins -and Watson were being soundly rated by the District Attorney, while -Flomerfelt and Mrs. Peter V. were laying new plans, while Leslie wept -in the silence of her room, that evening one of the Obermeyer helpers -making his rounds, discovered the clothes of Peter V. Wilkinson, the -Trust Company man, in his booth. The clerk at the desk produced the -banker's wallet containing hundreds of dollars, his pin and other -valuables. But the bathing-suit, the brass checks, and Peter V. -Wilkinson were nowhere to be found. - -"Suicide," at once said the press; family and friends said "drowning -accident," and the life guard backed them up. Furthermore, -Hawkins produced the pistol and poisons taken from the trunks in -Maine--evidences of suicidal intent. These strengthened and deepened -the theory of suicide. Even Murgatroyd, after thinking it over, was -satisfied that such was the case. As for Colonel Morehead, he would -sit for hours in his office, staring at the wall, never coming to -any conclusion. "Peter's certainly got me guessing," was the way he -acknowledged his inability to solve the problem. Nor did the ocean -ever give up Peter from its capacious depths. - -Of all the men in New York County there was one, however, who had a -theory. This man was tall, slender, handsome, a man in authority. After -the county detectives had given up the search, and after the newspaper -reporters had faded from the scene, this man quietly went down to -Brighton Beach and interviewed the clerk. - -"I wonder," he asked himself, as under his gruelling cross-examination -the clerk searched the remotest confines of his memory, "I wonder what -Wilkinson had in that brown paper bundle, and what became of it. Was it -drowned, too?" - -But of all the people down at Brighton Beach, only one man _knew_ -the movements of Peter V., and that was Peter V. himself. He had -had his swim; he had gone far out, ducked and swam under water -for a distance, and finally had gone ashore near Helmstaedter's -pavilion--Helmstaedter's pavilion, where he belonged and where he was -not known. Dripping, glowing from his bath, he had entered the pavilion -with hundreds of bathers and gone at once to his booth. - -The rest was simple. Having dried himself, he once more donned the -dry, Obermeyer bathing-suit, drew on top of that his second-hand -suit of clothes, smashed his soft hat down on his head, and left -the pavilion by the street entrance. And pushing through the back -streets and alleyways which were crowded with the cheaper order of -pleasure-seekers, eating "hot-dogs," he darted into a barber-shop and -leaned back in the chair with a grunt of satisfaction. - -"Too hot for spinach, Tony," he remarked in the genial vernacular of -the day, "so shave her off." - -Tony did as he was bid; and when Wilkinson rose and glanced into Tony's -glass, he looked upon a countenance that he would never have recognised -for his own. In former days his cheeks were plump and muscular, his -chin bold, and his lips expressive. But for some years now a beard had -covered his face; his lips and chin and jowls had been unused. So that -not only was he not the Peter V. Wilkinson of the present day, but he -was not the Peter V. Wilkinson of any day: he was just a very average -man in a second-hand suit of clothes. - -"So long, Tony!" he sang out, and soon he was lost in the crowd. - - - - -XXI - - -Wandering aimlessly through Madison Square Park one evening ex-Governor -Beekman suddenly felt someone tugging at his arm, and swinging round -quickly to shake himself from the other's grasp, yet glancing down to -see what sort of a person had accosted him, he saw that it was a woman, -that she looked pale and weary, that her clothes were very shabby, -and that she seemed to be in sad straits. Instantly he was conscious -of a feeling of pity for her, at the same time he was angry with -himself, angry with the fates that prevented him from doing what he had -repeatedly done under similar circumstances in times past. For Beekman, -always a tender, kind-hearted fellow, had never been one to look down -upon less fortunate beings, and rarely lost an opportunity whereby he -might do a kindness to some poor unfortunate. - -"What do you want of me?" he asked, not unkindly. - -"I--I've been looking for you," said the woman. "I----" - -The man pulled himself up quickly. Here was someone who knew him, and -of late he had been shunning the sight of his acquaintances. Again he -shot a sharp glance at the woman: the intruder was Madeline Braine. The -moment that he recognised her, Beekman was aware of a spasm of pain; -too well she brought back to his memory the things he was trying to -forget; nevertheless, he said with a pleasant smile: - -"Why, of course, you're Miss Braine. I know you now. How stupid of -me.... But what do you want of me?" - -The woman did not immediately answer. She stood by him silent, -motionless, looking vaguely into space. After a while she said -falteringly: - -"I--I don't know what I wish with you. Really I--misery----" - -" ... loves company," he finished for her under his breath while -reflecting: "How can one man be responsible for so much?" for it had -been borne in upon him that the woman, like himself, was a social -outcast with the hand of Wilkinson heavy on her, still pressing her -down though he was no more. - -The woman seemed to have read his thoughts, for she broke in upon them -with: - -"Oh, you didn't know Peter V. Wilkinson as I did! I've felt his force, -sir, indeed I have.... But we won't talk about my story.... Won't you -tell me yours, for I know----" She stopped abruptly and looked up at -him, a strange, pathetic look in her eyes. And whether it was her rare -beauty that appealed to him, or that she was so intensely human toward -one who had been thrust into the gutter, at any rate she seemed like a -bit of heaven opening up to him. - -Therefore it was not long before he was pouring out into her ears all -his sufferings at the hands of Wilkinson, and already he was beginning -to like her because of the sorrow they had in common. - -"Tell me," he said to her, "how can a man like that set my friends -against me--hound me out of my clubs." - -"I read about you and the Barristers'. You were treasurer--they claimed -your books were crooked. I knew----" - -"My bookkeeper must have been one of Wilkinson's men. Of course I made -it good. But that was nothing compared with the charge itself--enough -to damn any man! I had investments, mortgages, but how he succeeded in -tying up those properties in a night, destroy the neighbourhood, cut -their value in two, is what dazes me. The power of the man is beyond -me--I can't understand it." - -"I can understand it all," she answered, "only you've injured him more -than I ever did." - -"There is Judge Gilchrist, for instance," he went on, "what hasn't -he done to him? The man's reputation is gone, and as for mine...." -He held his head very high. "They may have robbed me of my money, my -clients may have been forced to leave me, but there's one thing they -can't do to me--they can't take my profession from me. The Judges -know--they believe...." - -"But Wilkinson could have you disbarred if he were alive, you must know -that," she insisted hopelessly. - -"Never!" he answered defiantly. "He can't fool the courts. And some day -I'm going to climb back ... even if I have to crawl there on my hands -and knees." - -"I'd like to help you win your place back in the world," she spoke up, -remembering his kindness to her, then she stopped, her face flushing -with the sudden realisation which was forcing itself upon her, that who -was she to stand beside any man in his fight against the world, she, a -creature rejected by everyone, penniless, with a fight of her own on -her hands? - -"I shouldn't have said this," she went on by way of explanation. "I'm -rather a weak ally to"--she paused to push back a stray lock that the -wind insisted upon blowing in her face, but in reality it was to brush -away the tears that clung to her eyelids. Beekman saw this, and his -heart went out to her, for he knew that hard as was his lot, hers must -be infinitely harder. - -"It wouldn't have been so," presently she continued. "But there was no -one to care for me--no one to care what became of me. I was a silly, -vain creature like thousands of others...." - -For some time the conversation held to this strain. At last the girl -put out her hand and said with a faint little smile on her lips: - -"Governor Beekman--for I must still call you so--it looks like a case -of down and out for both of us. If you'll give me your address, I'll -give you mine. One can never tell, you know...." - -"That's very true," he answered sadly, and proceeded to scribble his -name and address on a leaf of his note book, tore out the leaf and -passed it over to her; then scribbling her address, as she repeated -it, upon another leaf, he added with genuine sincerity: "If I can ever -be of service to you, Miss Braine, don't hesitate to call upon me." He -took the hand which she gave him, and once more their ways parted. - -The next morning Beekman's superior--Beekman had obtained a job -with the Title Company, after he had been frozen out of his law -practice--called him into the inside office. - -"I'm sorry to tell you," he began, "it's not personal with me at all, -but the company have given me orders to ask you to resign...." - -"I knew they would," said Beekman, pocketing his salary. "I expect to -spend the rest of my natural life in resignation. I've resigned from -six positions now, and am being kicked out of the seventh. I bear no -malice to anybody except the man above.... If he's alive, I hope to get -him one of these days; if he isn't," he smiled genially, "why, he's -getting his reward right now." - -The hounding of Beekman had become an easy matter. Once driven out of -independent business and shunned by people of his kind, he was forced -to apply for salaried positions. After that the story was always the -same, except that each time he kept asking lower and lower wages, -getting them until he was turned off. And he was always turned off--no -longer was his resignation requested. - -" ... we can't have a thief in our employ," was the customary -remark. Some imputed to him hideous morals; others charged him with -drunkenness, but always with the same result. - -In the beginning he had thought of leaving town and going West; but the -Beekman grit was in him and it declined to capitulate. - -"I'll fight it out here, alone," he had told himself a thousand times, -"here, where I belong--where she is. I'll fight--I'll never run -away...." - -The temptation to escape he had put behind him long ago, but there -were other things that assailed him. He had the name of everything -that was disreputable, he knew that. Even the newspapers from time -to time referred to him as being connected with fracases that never -had occurred, or if they had, had happened in his absence. Day after -day, night after night he walked the streets with shame clinging to -him. To-day he held his position, but never knowing when the merciless -hounds of the Wilkinson system would corrupt his employers and turn him -out. He grew shabby, shabbier, and all too swiftly, too. But he was -glad of one thing: his pride had never left him; he kept himself neat -and clean. He felt, though, that these were things that would slip from -him as he slumped down into the army of the unknown. Many times he had -to combat the temptation to take to drink, to drugs, to the comfortable -vices of the vagabond. - -"I've got the name," he told himself, "the name,"--and unquestionably -Leslie believed it--for would not he have believed these things of his -dearest friends had the evidence been the same as it was in his own -case?--"And that's where Wilkinson was strong--he always had proofs.... -Yes. I've got the name, why not the game?" he would reason, as he kept -slipping down, down, down. - -But through it all the same instinct kept him straight. "I'll stick it -out alone," he kept saying over and over again. Leslie had told him -once that he was a man of destiny, and he still felt it. As long as -there was life there was hope. Help must come to him in some form some -day, and when he faced her, he must face her clean. Never once did he -blame her for his plight. He saw too well and clearly that she, too, -was the victim of the Wilkinson system, and all the more so because -she was Wilkinson's daughter. In Beekman's mind the truth was slowly -forcing itself that Leslie's plight was worse than his, for she was -unconsciously the innocent instrument of vengeance. - -"I've got to stay decent for her sake," he kept repeating to himself. -But as time went on, one horrible temptation kept pressing, closing in -upon him. - -Night after night he haunted the more isolated East Side piers. Night -after night he glanced down into the smooth, dark waters flowing -silently past him, with a glance that held within it some deep -meaning. Night after night as his body became lean and gaunt, as the -lines deepened in his young face, as his pockets emptied themselves, -magically, so it seemed, as he stared starvation in the face, the -waters seemed to beckon to him, and death seemed, somehow, pleasanter -than life. - -The time had come when he knew, when he was assured past all mistake, -that he was at his rope's end. - -"I'm down at the bottom of the pit and there's no way up," he whispered -to himself, and held out his arms for an instant toward the waters. -"There's no way out but you, you," he went on, his purpose clinging -desperately to him. He stopped and drew back from the edge and crouched -against the stringpiece. For across the pier something had arrested -his attention. A shadow deeper than the night, and part and parcel of -the night itself, was creeping toward the edge. This shadow was the -only moving thing that Beekman had ever seen upon this lonely pier. His -nerves became suddenly alert, for now he saw that this shadow was a -human being--a woman bent upon a woman's desperate purpose. He watched -the shadow spellbound. - -Suddenly the woman lifted her hands high above her head, and with the -wail of a hunted animal, cast herself off the stringpiece and into the -river underneath. - -In the twinkling of an eye he had jerked off his coat and shoes and -thrown himself into the stream. He caught her as she came up, but -she clutched him and struggled, not to save herself, but to cast him -off. Like a maniac she fought and the two went down together, Beekman -gurgling in distress. By some superhuman effort he conquered her -underneath the water, and coming up, held her, limp and inert with one -hand, while he swam slowly, for his strength, owing to starvation, was -fast ebbing. Somehow he managed to climb up the rough sides of the -pier, bundling her up ahead of him, and laid her down, unconscious, -on the stringpiece, where she lay for some time. When she had revived, -however, the mania once more possessed her. - -"Leave me alone, please leave me alone!" she cried, her strength -returning. "You've no right to interfere--no right to touch me...." - -Beekman held her tight until her paroxysm ceased, and once more she lay -inert in his arms. Finally she opened her eyes and looked about her. - -"You're going to come along with me," he told her gently, forcing her -on; but she tried to tear herself loose again. After a little while he -succeeded in getting her to the street, but there, with some strength -more powerful than his, she suddenly jerked herself from him and held -him at arm's length, though he still held his grip upon her wrists. - -"Let me go! Let me go, I say! I'm tired--tired of men--tired of men -like you!" she wailed. "I want to go home--I want to go back to my -father--back to my father...." - -And still he held on to her, held on until he got her underneath the -street lamps, where he looked into her face. She was worn and haggard, -but her dark, lustrous eyes were something to remember. "She must have -been very beautiful," he thought, and wondered. - -"Look at me!" he said in a voice that startled her into consciousness; -"you've got to trust me! I'm going to take you home----" - -"My home?" she cried feebly. - -"Yes. Where is your home?" - -The girl made no answer, but commenced to weep. At length, she said: - -"If I had a home, do you suppose I would have attempted what you have -just prevented me from doing? Home? Let me go, please let me go!" and -again she fell to sobbing. - -"Then I'll take you to my own home," he said; and added to himself: -"I'm good for one more day there at any rate." - -"No, no, no!" she cried, trying to break away from him. "I want my -father, just father--Oh, father...." - -"Don't fight against me. I'm going to help you to find your home, your -father. Come, trust me!" - -And the girl, too weak to resist him any longer, allowed herself to be -led away by him. - - * * * * * - -In a cheap hotel on this same East Side a man sat among other men -of his own type, drinking with apparent gusto a huge glass of beer. -Between sips he smoked a pipe. His clothes were soiled, stained with -tobacco, they reeked with the odour of the place. He had just finished -telling a story to an English sailor, who slapped his thigh and howled -in glee. - -"That's a good 'un, matey!" cried the sailor. "But I arn't got one to -match it, stow the luck!" - -The storyteller's last chuckles had subsided and he had drained his -glass to the dregs, when suddenly a man entered the place and thrust -himself into the group that sat around the table. This newcomer was of -a different class from the others. He was tall, square, handsome, and -his air and clothes and manner betokened one of the better classes. -The genial storyteller set down his glass, grinned once more at the -English sailor, and then following the sailor's glance, looked up at -the stranger. He found the stranger was glancing down at him with an -intentness that was disconcerting, to say the least. - -The stranger slowly extended his hand toward the group, his forefinger -levelling itself in the direction of the genial storyteller. - -"I want to talk to you," he said. - -The man at whom he pointed faltered for an instant. His first instinct -was to give the signal and get his cronies to bear down upon this -stranger and throw him to the ground. - -The stranger--who was no other than Leech, an Assistant District -Attorney of the County of New York, who had become famous chiefly -as the lawyer who had sent Peter V. Wilkinson up for a ten-years' -term--saw the look, interpreted it correctly, but he only laughed in -the man's face. - -"There are three of my men outside," he whispered, bending down, and -then straightened up once more. "Where can we talk?" he asked. - -The other man lumbered to his feet and bowed awkwardly, saying: - -"Excuse me, gents." - -At the foot of the stairs that opened near the street, Leech held the -other in conversation for an instant--just long enough to permit three -men without to see his man. None of the three knew who he was, but all -knew that they should know him at any future time. - -The next instant the two had passed upstairs, where the man had a room. - -"Well, Wilkinson," said Leech, once they were behind closed doors, and -passing over a fifty-cent cigar, "you turned it pretty neat, but you -didn't fool me." - -"I see I didn't," returned Wilkinson, limply. - -"You were going to stay here until you could make a get away, I -suppose," went on Leech. "You did it cleverly, but," he shook his head, -"there was a man cleverer than you in little old New York--that's me." - -"You're an intruder," retorted Wilkinson, leaning over toward the -other. "I was just getting used to the life here--liked it, in fact." - -"It's the butcher blood coming out in you," conceded Leech. "Reversion -to a type. I suppose this is really where a man like you belongs." - -"Who else knows about me?" asked Wilkinson, coolly enough. - -Leech screwed up an eye. - -"Did you think I was fool enough to give you away?" He paused a moment -to watch the effect of his words upon the other, then he went on: -"Nobody followed you up--nobody knows but myself. Listen, Wilkinson, -and I'll tell you how you did it." - -And Leech proceeded to detail Wilkinson's escape and the method of it -in such correct and graphic terms that Wilkinson's eyes bulged wide -with terror. - -"How did you know?" gasped Wilkinson. - -Leech crooked his forefinger. - -"Because," he declared, "there's nothing new under the sun. The thing -you did was done by a bank cashier in California ten years ago, and one -of the few people who knew about it was myself. It's not down in the -books. You thought it was new; I knew...." - -They smoked in silence for a while, Wilkinson all the time staring at -the other. Finally he spoke. - -"Well, the jig is up, so far as you and I are concerned, and the -question now is, what do you want of me?" - -Leech hesitated a moment, before answering: - -"I want a cool million to let you go." - -Wilkinson grunted. - -"When you told me you were the only man who knew, I figured out that -was your game. But what about these chaps downstairs?" - -"They're not county men," assured Leech, "and they don't know a thing -about it." - -"A million dollars," mused Wilkinson. "Where would I get it?" - -Leech blew smoke rings toward the ceiling. - -"I refuse to discuss that part of it," he answered, "only it's a -million now. Later on it may be two, you know." - -The banker knitted his brows. - -"And what do you do for that million?" he said. - -"Keep my hands off and my mouth shut, that's all." - -"How long a time will you give me to think it over?" - -"How long do you want?" - -"Three days." - -Leech shook his head. - -"It will be three millions by that time; besides, this thing has cost -me money. I've got to keep these chaps on the job, you know." - -Wilkinson rose, and said: - -"Give me until eight o'clock to-morrow morning. You'll find me here." - -Leech thought a moment, and then shaking his finger at the millionaire, -he said: - -"Don't you try to get away, Wilkinson, because...." - -"That part of it is all right," growled the other. "By the way, -won't you stay and have a schooner of beer? No? Well, eight to-morrow -morning, then." - -Leech left, Wilkinson looking after him wistfully as he went out. - -"Clean-cut proposition, that Leech," he reflected to himself. - -There was a tap on the door. And to Wilkinson's "Come in," Leech -reappeared. - -"I merely wanted to send my regards to Miss Leslie," he said, "in case -you call her up." - -"I won't call anybody up," growled Wilkinson. "My people don't know -anything about me other than that I'm dead." - -Nor did Wilkinson call anybody up. He merely stopped drinking beer, -went downstairs and got a handful of black cigars, and then returning -to his room smoked all through the long night, that is, until two -o'clock in the morning. At that hour he heard a church bell chime and -started for the window. In the moonlight the dingy backyard seemed -peaceful and deserted. He took off his shoes and stole out upon the -fire-escape; and climbing carefully down rung after rung until at -last he stood on _terra firma_, he then started for a secret alleyway -which, as he had ascertained, had been used in frequent evasions of the -police. But no sooner had he started toward it than a hand was laid -upon his arm; and turning, he found himself face to face with one of -Leech's plain-clothesmen. - -"Taking the air?" queried the man, pleasantly, deepening his hold on -the arm of Wilkinson. - -"No," said Wilkinson, looking about the squalid backyard, "but I saw -somebody moving around down here--must have been you--and mistook him -for a burglar. Thought I'd scare him off." - -"He didn't scare," said the sleuth, drily. "Shall we--er--return?" - -They returned, the detective lounging, wide-eyed and comfortable, upon -the fire-escape above, while Wilkinson drew off his clothes and slept -like a log for the remainder of the night. At eight o'clock in the -morning he was up and dressed; and at eight o'clock Leech appeared. But -no sooner was he in the room than Wilkinson drew on his slouched hat -and seized Leech by the arm, saying: - -"Come on, I'm ready." - -"Where are you going?" cried Leech, in alarm. - -Wilkinson grinned. - -"I'm going to give myself up to Murgatroyd," he said. - -Leech winced. It was a blow between the eyes and he felt it. - -"The devil you are!" he cried. "But why?" - -"Because," said Wilkinson, slowly, "I know chaps like you. A man who -can be bought for a million, can't be bought for ten million, that's -what I mean." - -"Explain yourself," stammered Leech. - -"When you get the million you'll come back for more. You'll never lose -sight of me--eh?" Wilkinson's grin widened as he saw the telltale flush -upon the cheek of the man before him. "You'd come back for more and -more. That I wouldn't mind, but in the end when I refused you'd call my -bluff--you'd kill the goose that was laying the golden egg. You'd give -me up one year, two years hence--you know you would." - -Leech was silent; he was floored. - -"Besides," went on Wilkinson, calmly, "there would always be the danger -of my discovery by Murgatroyd. The sword of Damocles would forever be -over my head. I'll make an end of it; I'll give myself up...." - -"Just as you say, Wilkinson," returned Leech, feeling all the while -that the other was bluffing. "I'll take you down to Murgatroyd's -myself," he went on, now bluffing, too. "By George, that's just what -I will do! Hereafter it will be said that Wilkinson may have been too -smart for Murgatroyd, but that there was one man he couldn't fool; and -that was Assistant District Attorney Leech. That ought to get me the -chief's job next November. Come on! I've got a taxi-cab--my men will -follow in another." - -Wilkinson climbed into the cab. At the second corner he called out to -the driver: "Turn west!" Leech leaned back smiling at this new turn, -and let Wilkinson do his own ordering. - -"I want to get out here for a minute, Leech," he said, presently -stopping the cab before a white marble building. "Come in with me.... I -want to telephone to someone I know." - -The two men, each occupied with his own thoughts, stalked up the -steps of the Millionaires' Club. At the entrance they were stopped, -and Wilkinson was rudely thrust aside. Leech got a cold and distant -obeisance from the doorman, who nevertheless politely asked: - -"Beg your pardon, sir, did you desire to see any member of the club?" - -Wilkinson came forward and roared out: - -"Confound you, I'm a member of the club--I'm Peter V. Wilkinson!" - -The doorman laughed in his face, and again bowing to Leech, asked if -the other was with him. - -"Why, Bowles," roared Wilkinson, "I know you like a book. I'm Peter V. -Wilkinson, I tell you." - -Bowles started at the voice. He recognised it as Wilkinson's, but the -man before him bore no resemblance to the Wilkinson that he knew, and -he refused to believe him. And in the end, Wilkinson and Leech were -forced, to their discomfiture, to retire. - -"Hang it!" muttered Wilkinson. "He ought to know me if anybody does. He -doesn't know me, and yet you did. How do you account for that?" - -"I was looking for a bigger tip," laughed Leech. - -At the next corner they stopped and Wilkinson entered a public -telephone booth, closed the glass door behind him and then called -up the Barristers' Club. Presently the man he called for was at the -other end, was answering "Hello." Wilkinson smiled, for the voice held -excitement in it. - -"Peter!" yelled Morehead in delight. - -"Yes, and I'm coming to the Barristers'." - -"In broad daylight?" - -"Yes, right now. I want to talk to you and talk to you hard. I've read -all the New York papers and know all that's going on.... And say, look -here, you'd better tell your people there to be on the look-out for a -tramp and a con man, for they'll never let us in unless you do." - -"Who's the con man?" queried the Colonel, not fully recovered from the -shock that Wilkinson had given him. - -Whereupon Wilkinson without reply rang off. - -Fifteen minutes later Colonel Morehead threw open his bedroom door in -the Barristers' Club and threw his arms about his disreputable-looking -client. - -"Peter, the sight of you is good for sore eyes!" he cried. - -Colonel Morehead stiffened for an instant at the sight of the other -man, and bowing gravely merely said: - -"How do you do, sir?" - -"Colonel," began Wilkinson, as he threw himself into a chair and -stretched his legs wide apart. "I'll come to the point at once." The -Colonel was all attention. "I note by the papers that you are keeping -the legislature a devil of a long time selecting a new man to replace -Beekman. You will naturally want to know," Wilkinson went on, "why we -call upon you in such haste this morning." He waved his hand toward -Leech. "Allow me to introduce you to Mr. Leech, at present an assistant -district attorney of this county, and the next Governor of the State of -New York." - -Morehead stared at Wilkinson as one hypnotised. - -"Why?" he demanded, at length. - -Wilkinson did not answer at once, but drew him into the adjoining room -where he related, among other things, the happenings of the last two -days. At the conclusion, he remarked: - -"A man who asks for a million-dollar bribe is our man, isn't he, -Morehead? But there is one thing more I want to say: Don't you forget -it that I figured out this thing myself." - - - - -XXII - - -Some few weeks after his visit to Colonel Morehead at the Barristers' -Club, Peter V. Wilkinson presented himself at the Riverside Drive -house. He had waited until he had grown a stubbly beard once more -before introducing himself to his family, and then one morning, -feeling very much as he looked, he had come in straggling, half-dazed, -tired, bedraggled, a sad object to behold, but in spite of all he was -received, like the proverbial prodigal, with open arms. - -Then followed days of explanation and secret conferences. His family -physician had diagnosed his case as one of loss of memory; Murgatroyd -had thrown up his hat in glee; the county force at once became active; -the newspapers chattered in cold type like magpies; and what is more, -the final stay obtained by Colonel Morehead was drawing to a close. - -But all the time that Murgatroyd felt that he had at last landed -Wilkinson, Leech kept his own counsel, and secretly he was very happy. -For did he not hold within his grasp the governorship, wealth, and in -his arms, almost, the daughter of Peter V. Wilkinson? - -They were sitting in Leslie's room at the top of the house one -morning, Wilkinson and his daughter. The father was puffing away at -a big black cigar, and looking very much out-of-place in the dainty -apartment with its poppy-covered walls and chintz furnishings, the girl -wearing a far more cheerful look than had been on her face for many -moons, was luxuriating in a silken-covered chair. - -"It's coming out all right, isn't it, father? How many nights have I -prayed that you would get away--even if I never saw you again. And now -it's coming out all right." She smiled a sad little smile; presently -she added: "You've got a man that the National Banks can't buy...." - -Her tone was the least bit cautious and reserved--as one who withholds -judgment. This did not escape Wilkinson. But he pressed his point. - -"You're sure you want Leech?" he asked. "I don't want to force you, but -he's a loyal friend of ours. He's run the National conspiracy to earth, -is brave enough to face fire for me--he's a true friend, girlie." - -Leslie's eyes glowed. She caught her father about the neck, and hiding -her face against his shoulder, she whispered: - -"Of course I want him, father. I--I would not have anybody else...." - -"I'm glad of that," answered her father, nodding. "He's head over heels -in love with you, dear--and he seems, somehow, to make it a condition -of----" - -"Father," she interrupted, "I knew long, long ago that he admired me. I -could tell--why, I'm so glad, so glad...." - -Nevertheless the girl was very tired, was keyed up to the highest -pitch. Her father had but three short weeks of respite, Morehead could -do no more, and the legislature was ready to appoint its man in the -place that Morehead with some desperate instinct had held vacant for -so long. It was still a race, a running fight with Leslie, and she -revelled in the fight. It was all a part of a desperate game, with her -father for the stakes; and she played it with all her might and main. - -"You will grant a pardon to my father?" she had implored of Leech, -struggling feebly in his warm embrace. - -"Yes," he had answered, drawing her still closer; and Leslie had -submitted, persuading herself into the belief that this man was the one -man for her. - -"You promise?" - -"I promise." - -Ten days later he resigned his office as Assistant District Attorney of -New York; and two weeks later he was lifted into the high place by the -legislature. One day after he took his oath of office the petition for -the pardon of Peter V. Wilkinson was handed to him; and faithful to -his promise, he signed it on the spot. - -For what did it matter to him or to Wilkinson, either, that there was a -storm of protest--the storm of protest coming chiefly from the office -of Murgatroyd? What did it matter to Leech that his name henceforth -would be upon the black list at the Criminal Courts Building? He had -made good and had won his reward--or almost. At any rate, for one -thing, he was Governor.... - -The _Morning Mail_ made but a feeble protest, for the _Star_ and the -_Reporter_ had become bitter and exultant adversaries and gave harder -than they took. - -To Leslie the whole thing was a triumph. - -"And yet it's a funny thing," she thought to herself, "that Eliot -Beekman, who defended father, wouldn't pardon him, and here is Newton -Leech, who persecuted him, now lets him go." - -It was in the Den a few days later that Leslie found upon the leather -lounging seat two fat volumes of the printed case of her father's -trial. She picked them up listlessly and started in to read them. But -she had not gotten very far when voices forced themselves upon her ear. -One was Leech's--he had come down from Albany. For some unaccountable -reason she did not want to see him just at this time. There was a -wedding day to be set--he had pressed her on this subject --and she -was not ready to set it. She slipped temporarily behind the thick -curtains that hung suspended by the wall, just as Leech and her father -stepped into the Den. - -Leech's attitude toward the head of the family, as time went on, had -been growing more and more insolent; and to-day he was worse than ever. - -"Mr. Wilkinson," he said, "I've done my part and I've been well roasted -for it." - -"That's immaterial to me," gurgled Wilkinson, who had become a -different man. The lines had faded from his face, he was rounding out -once more, he slept nights and ate with regularity, within him all was -peace and happiness. The shadow of the prison had slipped from him -like a noose--he was free. He looked at the other tantalisingly for a -moment, and then asked: "Well, what do you want ...?" - -"Just what you promised me," said Governor Leech, "for setting you -free. I want my million dollars, to begin with." - -"Come now," grumbled Wilkinson, lighting a cigar, "you've got the -governorship--that's enough for any man, my boy." - -"It's not enough for me," insisted Leech, alarmed. "I want two things -right away--two things you promised me: A million dollars and your -daughter Leslie; and the sooner she can marry me, the better." - -Wilkinson laughed until he was red in the face, then he said: - -"Look here, Leech, I'll compromise with you. You take half a -million...." - -"Not in a hundred years!" exclaimed Leech, threateningly. - -Wilkinson continued to chuckle. - -" ... a half million," he repeated, "and I'll let the old lady, my -wife, get a divorce, and you can have her. But Leslie...." - -Leech gripped the table with both hands. - -"Wilkinson," he said firmly, "the girl will marry me, never fear! -She likes me, loves me, and she's promised to be my wife. But you've -promised to cough up a million to me, and I want it." - -"What if I don't?" growled the other. - -"If you don't," cried Leech, "I'll let the whole world know that you've -got a hundred million or so salted away in your daughter Leslie's name, -and then you'll have a hornet's nest about your head." - -"Never thought of that," returned Wilkinson, paling slightly. "By -the way," he mused, "after Leslie marries you I'll have to find some -other dummy to hold those stocks and bonds for me, otherwise, you'll -get your hooks on them." He laughed. "Cleverest scheme in the world, -boy--Flomerfelt and I concocted it. Why, look here, I've been joking, -nothing else. I'm not going to give you a million." - -"You're not!" cried Leech, growing white. - -"No!" roared Wilkinson. "Hang it all, I'm going to give you two...." - -"That's better," assented Leech, sinking back into his seat. "But when?" - -"Leslie's got to sign." - -"Can you close this to-day?" - -"As soon as I can get her. Come on--she's probably upstairs." - -Wilkinson and Leech left the room, and Leslie, her face flushed with -the knowledge of what she had heard, crept from the room and through -the hall back to the postern stair. There, in an empty room she -crouched down until she heard them coming down again, then made a dash -for her boudoir and locked herself in. After a while a servant rapped -on her door and informed her that he had been looking all over for her. - -"Who wants me?" she inquired. - -"Your father, Miss, and Mr. Leech," he told her. - -"Tell my father to come up," said Leslie. - -Presently her father, with a document in his hand, entered the room, -and smilingly announced: - -"Just wanted you to sign this, girlie." - -Leslie glanced at it cursorily, saw that it was what she believed it to -be--a means of payment to Leech, and signing, passed it over without -looking at her father. He stood for an instant at the door. - -"Newton has come up to see you," he said. "The Governor is getting kind -of lonely up in Albany--he can hardly wait to get a Mrs. Governor up -there." - -Leslie drew her hand across her face. - -"Please tell Mr. Leech," she answered, "that I'm ill. I can't possibly -see him to-day--no," she persisted, "don't ask me--not to-day." She -pushed her father playfully from the room and once more locked the -door. Then she went back to the window and read the printed case of -the People _versus_ Peter V. Wilkinson until the shadows deepened into -darkness. - -"It's all so clear now," she sighed. "How could they have acquitted -him? How could Eliot Beekman have pardoned him, even if he had wanted -to? Oh, he's guilty, guilty, guilty!" - -Completely exhausted, Leslie laid down the volume and threw herself -upon the bed, where she lay until the early morning sunlight peered in -through the windows. Throughout the long night she had not closed her -eyes, but lay there thinking, planning, some way out of it all. The -morning found her resolved upon one point: She would never marry the -man her father wanted her to marry. - -And so it happened that some weeks later Governor Leech, looking -down upon her, his face suddenly gone pale, his breath coming short, -protested: - -"But, Leslie, you can't mean it. Don't you know that I've held you in -my arms, that my kisses are on your lips! Those made you mine. You've -promised, your eyes have answered mine, you belong to me just as much -as though--by heaven! if you don't belong to me for any other reason, -you belong to me because I've earned you! Look what I did for your -father--what I did for you!" - -"You've been paid enough," she answered stubbornly. "I've paid you out -of the money in my hands. Oh, don't stare! I know--I know...." She -paused a moment, her face flushing, her breath coming fast. "Governor -Leech," she resumed, "while my father was in danger I could think of -nothing but to save him; but now that strain, that terrific strain is -over, and I have come to my senses. I can't even think of you, much -less marry you with this taint on you. Yes, I broke my promise to you, -it is true, but I had to, don't you see?" She lifted her head proudly, -and then added: "I had to for the reason that I am just beginning to -find out that I'm a woman, and that you, Governor--you are not--a man." - -The following evening while Leslie waited in a small waiting-room near -the entrance to the house a man was ushered in--a man with grey hair -and bowed shoulders, a man enveloped in a long cloak--for the mist -was heavy and the night was wet without. Leaping to her feet, Leslie -grasped him by the hand, and said: - -"It was good of you to come, Mr. Ilingsworth, and you've found him, I -can see by your eyes. Oh, how can I thank you enough! I was to help -you, and here you're helping me." - -"I'm helping him," said Giles Ilingsworth, steadily, but kindly. He -straightened up, and went on: "I haven't seen him, but I've located -him--I know the floor he lives on. He--he's always in evenings. They -say he has a job with some labourers on the new subway." - -"Come!" she cried, seizing his arm. - -"Wait," he said, "why don't you send for him?" - -Leslie shook her head. - -"He would never come. I've got to go to him to-night. I can't wait -another minute--not another minute." - -In the open doorway while she drew her cloak tight about her, they -stood and peered out into the Drive. - -"We'll get a cab," she said, taking his arm; but Ilingsworth was -adamant. - -"There's one thing that I forgot to tell you," he went on, -hesitatingly. "I--it's only what they tell me down there--they say -Beekman does not live alone. I thought you ought to know...." - -Leslie flushed for an instant and drew back, and then pressed on again. - -"I know," she said, "that is, I suppose--but never mind that. I've -wronged this man and I won't let another day pass over my head without -trying to right the wrong--if it ever can be righted." She tightened -her grasp on the man's arm. "How can a wrong like that ever be -righted?" she asked. - -But Ilingsworth himself knew something about wrongs, and muttered -half-aloud as he glanced at the darkened heavens: - -"Are my wrongs ever to be righted?" - - - - -XXIII - - -Before one of a long row of dilapidated tenement houses away over on -the East Side of the city, the cabman halted. Leslie had ordered him -to drive like the wind, promising double fare; and consequently he had -covered the ground in a ridiculously short period of time. - -To the girl, familiar only with the better localities of the city, -the squalor of the place was appalling. It all looked so dark and -mysterious that she hesitated for a time before consenting to go in; -but at last, overcoming her repugnance, she brought herself to the -point where she could make the ascent of the narrow stairway which led -to Beekman's room, and she began to climb the stairs, clutching at -Ilingsworth as they went. - -"They said he was always at home," repeated Ilingsworth, knocking -gently at the door. - -A moment more and the door was suddenly thrust open, flooding the hall -with light, and a woman, wearing a hat and a long coat, stood in the -doorway. It was Madeline Braine. - -For a second that lapsed into another, the women stood staring at each -other, but did not speak. - -"I was just going home," finally announced Miss Braine. "I----" - -"It isn't true, then, you don't live here?" faltered Ilingsworth, -blurting out things in his excitement that should have been left unsaid. - -"Were you looking for me?" asked the woman. "I live at...." - -"For Mr. Beekman," interrupted Leslie, in a low voice. "Can we find him -here?" - -Madeline Braine pressed her hand against her lips. - -"He's asleep," she whispered. "They're both asleep." - -"Both!" The exclamation fell from Leslie's lips. - -"Who else is there here?" proceeded Ilingsworth, without formality. - -"Nellie, the girl that lives here," she told him in lowered tones. "He -takes care of her. She's been sick--he's had to stay up nights and work -all day, and it's a pity to wake him up...." - -"He hasn't retired yet, then?" asked Leslie, inanely, for want of -something better to say. - -But whatever would have been the woman's reply it did not reach her -lips, for just at that moment there was a stir, an exclamation from the -corner of the room, and a man rising to his full height--a man, tall, -strong, bronzed, clad in workman's clothes, cried out sharply: - -"Who's voice was that? I thought I heard a voice...." - -The woman waved the two out in the hall, and answered: - -"No, she hasn't stirred." - -Beekman stretched his arms, and replied, lowering his voice: - -"I don't mean Nell. I mean her voice--Leslie's. Who's out there, Miss -Braine?" - -Madeline motioned to Ilingsworth and Leslie to come in, but at the very -moment they entered a young voice rose from the next room, and cried in -all its weakness: - -"Madeline! Eliot! Oh, Eliot...." - -"We've awakened her," said Madeline Braine, contritely, hurrying toward -the inner door. But Giles Ilingsworth interrupted her flight and caught -her as in a grip of iron. - -"Just wait a moment, if you please," he said. - -Again the voice raised itself in supplication. - -"Madeline! Eliot...." - -"You recognised a voice," said Ilingsworth to Beekman, "but I recognise -a voice, too." He caught up the lamp and started for the next room, but -Beekman was before him standing at the threshold. - -"That's a bedroom," he explained. - -"Let go of me, Beekman!" cried the old man. "I know what I'm about!" -And with a steady step he marched on into the next room. - -All of a sudden a loud cry, a woman's cry of sudden joy, reached their -ears. Madeline hastened in. The next instant, while Leslie and Beekman -stood facing one another, they heard a muffled groan and Ilingsworth -came out again. Holding up the light to Beekman's eyes, he looked into -them sternly. - -"My daughter," he said, "she's a living wreck, almost." - -"You should have seen her when she first came here, Mr. Ilingsworth," -answered Beekman, returning the other's gaze with interest. - -"You saved my life, Beekman," went on Giles Ilingsworth, his voice -trembling; "but for how much of this are you responsible?" - -Madeline Braine pressed to his side and said: - -"Let me answer that. Governor Beekman did more than save your life, he -saved hers--saved her from drowning, nursed her, fed her, lodged her, -he has brought her back to life--back to you." - -But Giles Ilingsworth was not satisfied. - -"Let him answer," he persisted. - -"There is nothing more to tell. Upon my honour, there is not," spoke up -Beekman. - -In sudden relief, then, Giles Ilingsworth started for the room; and -Leslie, pressing close to him, asked if she might see the girl. - -"She needed someone to take care of her, and she found Eliot," she -sighed a moment later as she stood in the shadow and saw Elinor lying -propped up against white pillows, her eyes very large and lustrous, a -faint smile on her lips. And then she softly left the room. - -Within, Ilingsworth sat on the edge of the bed and babbled like a -child, happiness suffusing his countenance; a little while longer and -his voice became firm once more, had the ring of conviction in it, -weakness had dropped from him as a mantle. - -"I'm happy, oh, so happy, Elinor!" he cried. - -There were no questions on his lips for her to answer; she knew there -never would be. Nothing mattered to her nor to him now save that they -were together and were happy in each other's love. - -Madeline knelt suddenly on the other side of the couch. - -"Mr. Ilingsworth," she whispered in a choking voice, "there's something -that I've got to tell you, something that's been driving me almost mad, -for a long time." Her face grew white and her eyes widened as she met -the old man's gaze. "It was I," she confessed, "I shot Mr. Pallister." - -In a bound Ilingsworth was on his feet, his eyes fixed upon hers. - -"You!" he exclaimed. "You ...!" - -"Don't--don't let them hear!" she moaned, hiding her face in her hands. -"I'm weak--I've always been weak, and if it hadn't been for me none of -this would have happened." - -"It was Wilkinson," cried Ilingsworth, clenching his hands, "Wilkinson -is at the bottom of it all!" - -The woman grasped at his sympathetic tone. - -"Yes, yes," she answered; and turning to Elinor: "I was like you, -dear--I had nobody to take care of me." - -"But," he protested, "it was my gun...." - -"Yes. That day when you talked to his daughter I was there--behind the -hangings. You laid the gun behind you on a table, dropped it there -behind a book." - -Ilingsworth placed his hand against his forehead and thought a moment. - -"So I did. It all comes back to me now," he returned. "I forgot -even that at my trial. I have never been able to account for its -disappearance." - -"I picked it up and kept it here," said the woman, placing her hand -upon her bosom. "Some instinct made me do it. I was going to break -with Wilkinson--I had made up my mind never to see him again, and I -didn't know but that I would need it to threaten him, so I kept it." -Her eyes grew dark with anger. "Afterwards he treated me cruelly, told -something, well, something that has ruined my life. I was in the crowd -that day, and,--well, you know the rest. Don't--don't tell anybody," -she pleaded. "They'd kill me, kill me before I had a chance to redeem -myself. I don't want to die--I can't die. I did my best for you, Mr. -Ilingsworth,--after I had done my worst," she ended in a sob. - -Ilingsworth crossed to her side and looked down upon her kindly. - -"My dear child, it was you that saved me. We all know what would have -happened if the Governor had never seen you. I don't want to tell -anybody, and I'm sure Elinor doesn't, either; nor am I sure that I am -under obligations to tell anybody. I bought the gun to kill; you killed -in a fit of anger. We're in precisely the same position, aren't we? We -had murder in our souls and this man Wilkinson put it there." - -"I want you to know," she went on falteringly, "that all the lies I've -told, all the things I've done, all the weakness that's in me; he's -responsible for them all. There was never anybody in my life but Peter -Wilkinson." - -There was a long silence. Giles Ilingsworth was the first to break it. - -"Miss Braine, I've been trying to figure out some way so that we can -all take care of each other. We all seem to need looking after. Perhaps -my courage and strength will come back now that my own little girl has -been returned to me. I've got to make a home for her, you see--there'll -be a place there for you, too, always, if you'll come." - -Madeline had not expected so much kindness, and the tears began to roll -down her cheeks. - -"May we come in?" asked a voice at the door. - -And Leslie Wilkinson, a new light in her face--a light that was worth -while, for she had solved a weighty problem in the last half-hour--once -more entered, Beekman following close at her heels. - -"There are some things I wish to say to ex-Governor Beekman in the -presence of you all--some things that you don't know, though I've heard -some of you charge my father with them," she went on, her face paling. -"I learned the truth myself less than a month ago, Eliot," now turning -to him, "that somewhere and somehow there are standing in my name -securities amounting to a hundred million dollars. I know it's so--I -can testify to it--they don't belong to me." - -"They belong to Wilkinson," broke in Ilingsworth. "I've known it all -along, but I've never been able to prove it." - -"They don't belong to my father," went on Leslie, her eyes meeting -Beekman's in triumph, "but to the depositors in my father's trust -companies." - -Beekman looked at the girl in amazement, Ilingsworth muttered something -to himself and was about to speak, but Leslie interrupted him. - -"One word more, Mr. Ilingsworth, if you please," she said. And again -turning to Beekman, she went on: "Eliot, you know that I have money -in my own right--money to do with as I wish. Therefore, I retain you -now, not on my own behalf, but on behalf of half a million depositors -in three States, to start a fight to get that money back. We'll begin -right now," she concluded, her voice ringing with determination, "with -Giles Ilingsworth. You are retained by him...." - -The fire leaped into Beekman's eyes; he sniffed with excitement. - -"Half a million depositors!" he cried, hope growing in his voice. "That -means half a million clients. I'm still a counsellor-at-law--the good -old Appellate Division withstood all attempts to disbar me. Half a -million clients--yes, I accept." - -"What about the evidence?" queried Ilingsworth. - -Beekman held up his hand. - -"The Bank Le Boeuf of Buffalo--they charged these things. They must -have evidence...." - -"I can furnish some," said Ilingsworth. - -"I have overheard Peter Wilkinson," faltered Madeline Braine. - -"And so have I," cried Leslie; "and besides, everything is in my -name, and I won't sign another paper or pay out another dollar until -everybody has had his rights." - -Leaving Ilingsworth with his two charges joyfully planning their -future, Eliot and Leslie returned to the next room. - -"We've got a long fight ahead, Leslie--a running fight, as Colonel -Morehead calls it, but I'm ready. Come, we begin to-night--we cannot -start too soon." - -"You remind me of that night," Leslie whispered, "that night when -you brought the ring." He seemed scarcely to hear her, the room was -reeling about him. But the girl, knowing that she must do the wooing -if she were to win him back at all, went over to him, and, laying an -affectionate hand upon his shoulder as she looked up into his eyes, she -said very tenderly now: - -"Eliot, if we're going to fight, don't you think we'll fight better -if we fight together? I wouldn't dare to ask you this if I didn't see -the hunger in your eyes for me just as the hunger is in my heart for -you. And Eliot," she went on, nestling closer all the while, "won't you -marry me to-night--won't you say you will?" - -This sudden rush of happiness was too much for Beekman, and he could -hardly speak. For answer he drew his arm round her waist and pressed -her close to him, their lips meeting in one long kiss, as they had that -night so long ago, when she had promised herself to him. - -A little while later, Beekman drew his shabby coat about him, but -Leslie saw nothing but the man underneath it. His shoulders that had -been drooping under the burden of adversity, when she entered the room, -now squared themselves; his mouth was firm, and his eyes sparkled as -side by side they passed out into the darkness. - - * * * * * - -"What do you want of me?" Wilkinson was saying as he glanced first at -Flomerfelt and then at his wife. They had bearded him in his Den a -little while before, broken in upon his reverie, and instinctively he -felt that their presence there augured no good to him. - -It was Flomerfelt who answered: - -"Thirds, Wilkinson. One-third for me and one for Mrs. Wilkinson." - -"By what right do you demand it?" asked Peter V., lolling back in his -chair. "And you?" he added, looking at his wife. - -"I'll tell everything----" began Mrs. Peter V. But Flomerfelt -interposed with: - -"She's your wife, Wilkinson." And lowering his voice, he continued: -"Your property is personalty, stocks and bonds. In case of your death -she would be entitled to a third. She merely asks her right." - -"In case of my death," mused Wilkinson. "But I'm not going to die--not -yet," he added, a moment later. - -Flomerfelt's brows contracted, his eyes narrowed, he looked Wilkinson -full in the face. - -"How do you know you're not?" he asked. - -"Is that a threat?" asked Wilkinson, rising. - -Flomerfelt, who hoped in the long run to wind up in Paris with -two-thirds of Peter's hidden fortune, for he expected that Mrs. Peter -V., with her third, in time would join him there, was glad to note that -at his suggestion of death the woman had regarded him once more with -fear. She had believed him responsible for the death of Roy Pallister, -and he had fostered this belief, had held her within the circle of -conspiracy, had held her as one chargeable, too, with death of the boy. -It was a safe venture, for not once had he by word of mouth connected -himself with that tragedy. Indeed, he had not the slightest idea as to -who was responsible for it, but all through he felt that Mrs. Peter -V., believing him responsible, felt herself mixed up, felt, too, -perhaps, that they had gone too far. And, watching her out of the tail -of his eye, he held his glance impudently upon Wilkinson's face. - -[Illustration: "We've got a long fight ahead, Leslie--a running fight, -as Colonel Morehead calls it, but I'm ready"] - -"Not a threat, but a surmise," he answered in the same even tone. -"People have sought your life before, you know," he went on, his face -breaking out into a disagreeable smile, "and even you have attempted -suicide. If you should die, what would become of her?" - -"When I die will be time enough to talk about it," snarled Wilkinson. -And thrusting his face now into that of the other, he demanded: "Come, -what's the game? Lay your cards down on the table--out into the open. -Why do you want a third ...?" - -"Chiefly because I've earned it." - -"Earned it! I took you out of the gutter, you ingrate!" - -Flomerfelt shrugged his shoulders. - -"If I haven't earned it so far, then I shall earn it in the future," he -said. - -"How?" - -"By keeping silent in the presence of one person." - -"Who?" - -Flomerfelt smiled, but did not answer. - -"Leslie Wilkinson, of course," put in Mrs. Peter V. - -"I don't understand," muttered Wilkinson, once more puffing on his -cigar. "Why silent in her presence? What's that to me?" - -"It isn't necessary to go over the facts," returned Flomerfelt. "To be -brief, you've got a mint of money in her hands, which she knows nothing -about. You know where it is, the missus knows, and I know. Some chaps -in Vienna know, thirds for us, or tell her ...?" - -Peter laughed aloud. - -"Tell her if you want to," he roared. "But do you suppose she'd give -the game away? She! Why, she's the only trump I ever had about me! -She'll stick through thick and thin! Tell her and be hanged!" - -Flomerfelt held up his hands, saying: - -"I must say that you don't know your own daughter." - -"You're a fool, Peter!" said his wife, sharply. - -"The instant the girl knows, it's all up with you, my friend," went -on Flomerfelt. "But she needs managing, watching. It takes more than -you to manage, to watch her, too. What is it--thirds for us, or tell -her...." - -Peter turned his back upon them. - -"Tell her and be hanged!" he said. - -Flomerfelt's eyes sought those of the lady. "What's the next move?" -hers seemed to ask of him. A smile of cunning crossed his face. - -"Then, Peter, we'll tell the public," he ventured. - -Peter swung about, crying: - -"Ah, why didn't you get down to that in the first place! I can -understand that--I've understood it all along--you were bound to hold -me up. I'm used to that--have had it all my life. Now, look here, -Flomerfelt, I'm through with you--through with both of you. But I'm -willing to be fair. I bought Leech with a million dollars, as you know. -And I'll do the same with you--with her. You can take it or leave it, -just as you please." - -"It's not enough," spoke up Flomerfelt. - -"I should think not," said the lady. - -Peter V. took out his watch and said: - -"I'll give you just one minute to accept." - -Flomerfelt took out his watch, and answered: - -"I'll give you two minutes to divide with us." - -At the end of a minute they were glaring into each other's faces like -beasts of prey. Wilkinson held up his hand and repeated: - -"You can take it or leave it, just as you please." - -"Thirds or nothing," answered the other stubbornly, at which reply -Wilkinson thrust his watch into his pocket and strolled toward the -door, where he waited until Flomerfelt raised his hand; and in that -brief moment it was borne in upon him that he was not the Wilkinson of -old, that he had, somehow, lost his grip. - -"You decline?" asked Flomerfelt. "All right! Then to-morrow the whole -story goes to Leslie Wilkinson." - -"What whole story, Mr. Flomerfelt?" asked a young woman, now entering -the room, and so pleasantly that for a moment Flomerfelt fell back -aghast. - -"What story, Mr. Flomerfelt?" she repeated. But again he did not -answer. And her father, taking his courage in both hands, came forward -and said: - -"The time has come, girlie, when you've got to make a choice for -life--you've got to tell me where you stand--on my side or theirs." - -Leslie slowly retreated to the door; a man entered and stood beside her. - -"I've made my choice, father. This is Eliot Beekman, my husband," she -announced bravely, a smile on her lips. - -Wilkinson could not believe his ears. For a moment he did not speak, -but looked helplessly from one to the other; and Leslie, waiting -for the words that did not come, saw her step-mother grow pale, saw -Flomerfelt's fingers stealthily grope into the depths of his sleeves, -draw down his cuffs, and heave a sigh as he watched the latter settle -into place. - -"Yes, father, I've made my choice," she repeated, placing her hand in -Beekman's. - -It was indeed an odd-looking pair that Wilkinson looked upon: the -girl all smiles and gladness, happy in the love that she had at last -won; the man, a scarecrow, almost, his ragged coat revealing a ragged -flannel shirt and clothes worn thread-bare. He frowned. For an instant -he seemed vengeance personified. - -"You----" faltered her father. - -"Mr. Wilkinson," cried Beekman, advancing to that individual, "I've -come back to strip you naked as the day you were born, and I'm going to -do it, too." - -"You'll have a good time doing it," Wilkinson answered with bravado, -although a growing fear was upon him. - -"I expect to, I assure you," returned the other, "for I represent -the depositors in your rotten banks. Once they sought your life, Mr. -Wilkinson,"--for even he didn't know the truth,--"and now they're after -money--the money that belongs to them and not to you. I've started in -to get it, I've come to get possession of it, to find out where it is." - -"You'll have a good time doing it," was all that Peter V. could find, -apparently, to say. - -"All I want to know is the name of the safe deposit vault where you -keep your securities. I'll be content with that, Mr. Wilkinson." - -"What securities?" Wilkinson paled. - -"All of them--everything," answered Beekman. - -Wilkinson started, glared at Leslie, then he sank into a chair, for he -saw that she knew and had judged him, condemned him. - -"You see, what you got for your pains," Wilkinson said presently to -Flomerfelt, sneeringly. - -Flomerfelt nodded; but as the two men stared at each other, they -registered a silent pact; Flomerfelt agreed with Wilkinson, and -Wilkinson agreed with Flomerfelt, that there should be a truce. - -This Beekman was a common enemy, and there must be no disclosures now: -to give the game away would be to rob them both of everything. - -"You may as well answer, Mr. Wilkinson," continued Beekman, "for I'm -determined on cleaning you up from top to toe. I'm your enemy and I -shall make it my business to represent every other enemy you have. I've -begun with Ilingsworth. I'm going to clear his name, put him where he -belongs; I'm going to clear up mysteries and let daylight into the -hidden places,--every mystery from the giving of your million-dollar -bail bond to the secret of your pardon. Nothing shall escape me, I'll -even ferret out the mystery of the death of Pallister, for," and his -finger pointed straight toward Wilkinson, "for all I know you're at the -bottom of that thing yourself." - -"Fidelity Deposit vaults," came gasping from the throat of Mrs. -Peter V. from the other side of the room; and holding out her hands -pleadingly toward Beekman, she added: - -"I had nothing, nothing whatever, to do with the murder of Roy. I am -innocent, I can prove my innocence. I'll tell all I know. The Fidelity -Deposit vaults--that's where...." She sank cowering into a chair. - -Flomerfelt realised now that he had made an egregious blunder in his -method of the past: this wholesome fear that he had instilled in her -had been his own undoing, a boomerang. But he was not yet through; he -saw another loophole open for him. - -"Peter," he cried, "come to my terms and I'll help you to fight. If you -don't----" - -Beekman stood by with folded arms. He had come there in a sort of -frenzy, to give vent to his pent-up sense of injury. He had regretted -his coming, it is true, the instant he stepped inside of the room. Yet -it was this same frenzy, this determined air of his, this sweeping into -the open and offering fight, they had really done the trick, struck -terror to the hearts of all three. - -And now he actually smiled. Flomerfelt's game suddenly became clear, -and Beekman knew that they were playing right into his hands. So he -waited in silence. - -"Wilkinson," cried Flomerfelt, with quick, incisive tones, like dagger -thrusts they were, "which shall it be?" - -"Neither!" exclaimed Wilkinson, his clenched hand crashing down -upon the table, and then going over to his son-in-law, he laid his -chubby hand upon his shoulder and said: "Eliot, my boy, you've got me -beat--but I'm going to surrender, and--" he leered at Flomerfelt and -Mrs. Peter V.; then added: "and not be given up." - -A moment later Flomerfelt started softly for the door, followed by Mrs. -Peter V. But Beekman barred the way. - -"Hold on there!" he cried. "Peter V. Wilkinson possibly is immune from -further criminal prosecution, but I don't know about you two. But -whatever part you've had in the conspiracy you may be sure that I'll -find out. There's no escape for you." - - - - - * * * * * * - - - - -Transcriber's note: - - Obvious typographical and punctuation errors have been corrected. - - Blank pages opposite illustrations have been removed. - - - -***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE RUNNING FIGHT*** - - -******* This file should be named 61840.txt or 61840.zip ******* - - -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: -http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/6/1/8/4/61840 - - -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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