Chapter XXII.At the ClubOn the following day, to George’s surprise and gratification Storm appeared at his office at noon and dragged him unceremoniously off for lunch. In the course of their long friendship he had been almost invariably the one to seek out his more brilliant companion, and he was touched at this evidence of a need of him.“I must say you look pretty bad, Norman,” he began with tactless solicitude. “And you were as nervous as a woman last night; I could see it. You are not taking care of yourself——”“I don’t sleep well,” Storm interrupted shortly. “I wanted to talk things over with you. I’ve been thinking about that trip I proposed taking——”“Yes?” George urged eagerly as he paused.“Well, I don’t know but what you are right if I can only pull myself together somehow.” Storm weighed each word with care. “You cannot appreciate what I have been through in the last month or you would realize how desperately I want to get away from all reminders of my—my grief; but if I can fight it without cutting myself adrift and losing my connection with the trust company, it would be foolish to sacrifice such a sinecure, especially when I have nothing else absolutely definite in view.”He could invent that ‘something else’ easily enough, he reflected as he watched George’s glowing face, when the moment came for departure. Meanwhile, he had decided to play safe; it would not be long! As the words formed in his mind he shuddered involuntarily; that had been Jack Horton’s expression! He had boasted of playing safe in the very hour of his death!“Of course it would! I knew you would come to your senses, old man!” George cried warmly. “I do realize what you must have suffered, but the only way to forget is to fight it. You—you can count on me, you know!”Storm nodded.“I am sure of that.” He paused and added: “About that little fishing trip you suggested; do you think you could get away?”“Surest thing you know! I’m feeling seedy myself, and it will do us both good. Shall we ask Millard to join us?”“Heavens, no! He is an infernal nuisance!” Storm exclaimed hastily. Through the long night hours he had planned his trip for the express purpose of keeping George and his inconvenient theories away from the too loquacious disseminator of news from Headquarters. “I only want you, George. How soon do you think you can get away?”In secret distaste he watched the other’s puppy-like wriggle of affectionate gratification at this mark of favor. What a fool he had been to fear him! Yet there might still be a chance for George to suspect, and if he did he would not rest until he had ferreted out the truth.“Let’s see; this is Wednesday,” George responded. “I ought to be able to make it by the first of next week. I’ll talk to Abbott about it this afternoon and let you know later. Say, why don’t you meet me at the Club?”Storm made a quick gesture of rejection.“I haven’t been there since——”“I know, and that’s just why it will do you good,” George urged. “You’ve got to take the plunge some time, you know. There is no good in isolating yourself and brooding, as you have been doing. Most of the fellows are away now for the hot weather; you won’t find half a dozen there before dinner.”“We-ell,” Storm conceded. The ubiquitous Millard would not be present, at any rate, nor would anyone else who had the slightest interest in the murder of an obscure paymaster; and now that the suggestion had been made he felt a vague desire to see the old club once more. “I’ll meet you there at half-past five.”The papers were still devoting much front-page space to the murder and robbery, but it was concerned principally with the activities of the detectives employed by Miss Saulsbury and those of the Mid-Eastern Corporation. The Police Department was reported as making progress, but its nature was not disclosed; and Storm smiled to himself as he read. No mention was made of the two men seen walking on the Drive, but the incident of the motor car was prominently exploited, and the generally accepted theory seemed to be that the body had been brought from some undetermined distance and flung over the wall.All reference to the bag and its contents when found at the terminal had been permitted to drop, and he looked in vain for any suggestion that the numbers of the bills were known.When he reached the club that afternoon he found that George had not yet arrived; but a tall, lanky figure arose with outstretched hand from the window seat.“Hello, old fellow! Glad to see you back! We’ve been asking about you.”“Thanks, Griffiths. I’ve not been away,” Storm replied briefly. “Just haven’t felt sociable, that’s all.”“I know. We heard of course. Very sad! We all felt for you.”The lawyer, who was noted for his eloquence in court, halted now in a constrained fashion, and Storm replied quietly. “I’m sure of that. Everyone has been very good, but this is the sort of thing one has to bear alone. I am thinking of getting away shortly for a trip——”“There was another matter, too, of which I was sorry to learn,” Griffiths interrupted him. “You were badly hit in the Mertens-Du Chainat swindle, weren’t you?”“I?” Storm’s surprise at the question was unfeigned, and his eyes shifted beneath the other’s level gaze. “Indeed, no! Where did you hear that?”“From a rather direct source,” the lawyer responded slowly. “In fact, from a private examination of some papers belonging to the pseudo Du Chainat which were unearthed after his departure. A client of mine happens to have been among his victims, and I was in a conference of attorneys who were permitted to make an examination of the effects which Du Chainat overlooked or had no time to destroy. Among them was a list of his victims, together with the amount he had obtained from each; a methodical scoundrel, wasn’t he? He had you down for sixty thousand, and as all the other items on the list were verified by the victims themselves I naturally concluded that his plans had gone through in your case. Sorry if I have made a stupid mistake.”“Not stupid!” Storm smiled frigidly. “Natural enough, under the circumstances. I met the fellow and he put his proposition up to me; I didn’t bite, but I let him down so easily that probably he considered me one of his prospects. To tell you the truth he interested me as a type, but I wasn’t fool enough to fall for his game.”“I am glad for your own sake.” There still remained that dry note of mental reservation in the lawyer’s tone. “He victimized some of the most astute business men in the country. ——Hello, Holworthy!”Storm turned as if stung. George was coming forward from the door with a preternaturally grave expression upon his wide, ingenuous face. How long had he been standing there? Confound his pussy-footing ways! How much had he heard? Storm was inwardly seething with rage at Griffith’s interference in his affairs as well as at George’s inopportune arrival, but he forced himself to greet the newcomer equably, striving to learn from his manner if the conversation had reached his ears.“I was late because Abbott kept me going over some details at the office,” the latter explained quietly. “He thinks I can get away all right by Monday. Suppose instead of the Beaverkill we try the north woods? The bass ought to be running well up there——”“So that’s the trip you meant, eh?” Griffiths interrupted. “Gad, wish I could join you! I’d like to get a breath of the big woods in the silence and peace of it after the eternal court wrangles of this last term, but there isn’t a chance for me. I envy you two fellows!”Two more members, a banker and the editor of one of the big dailies, joined them, refreshments were ordered, and to Storm’s relief the talk drifted off on general topics; but he studied George furtively. If he had heard, would he accept Storm’s denial that he had been victimized by Du Chainat? The lawyer had evidently remained skeptical, but he was not as conversant with Storm’s affairs and financial position as was George. If the latter believed that his friend had been hard hit, would he not naturally wonder where he had obtained the money for the long overseas trip he contemplated, and wondering, blunder upon the truth?A half hour passed, the little group broke up and Storm and his companion were on the point of departure when a hearty, good-humored voice boomed from the doorway and an elderly man with a bluff military swagger bore down upon them.“Great Guns, Storm, but it’s good to see you here again! I wrote you—you got my letter?—when I heard of your loss. Terrible thing, terrible! Damn fine little lady——”He paused, clearing his throat and clapping Storm resoundingly on the shoulder.“Thanks, Colonel; yes, I received your letter,” the latter responded. “Meant to reply to it, but George here can tell you that I’ve been rather unsettled——”“Heard you had moved to town and taken somebody’s rooms up on the Drive,” Colonel Walker interrupted. “We’ve needed you here for a fourth at bridge; had to take on Paine, and he’s rotten——”“I like that!” the editor retorted indignantly. “Who revoked twice in one evening——?”“That was because we were playing for low stakes. I’m never on my mettle unless the game is away over my head.” The Colonel laughed and added: “Saw you the other night, Storm, and tried to hail you but you got away in the crowd. I wanted to drag you off to a stag house party up in Westchester. Let’s see; that was last Wednesday night, over by the Grand Central Station——”“You must have been mistaken!” Storm interrupted hastily. He could feel George’s eyes upon him, and this fresh turn of affairs left him aghast.“No, I’m not,” Colonel Walker insisted bluntly. “It was Wednesday night, I remember, just around dinner time, for it was raining like blazes and you were dodging along under your umbrella——”“Oh, yes!” Storm parried desperately. “I recall it now, but I didn’t see you, old chap. I was on my way to my tobacconist’s. By the way, that was a wonderful brand of cigarettes you used to get from Turkey before the war. I’ve been trying to remember the name——”The colonel’s laugh boomed out in good humored derision.“Much good it would do you now! They aren’t made any more; in fact I doubt if that grade of tobacco is grown over there since the world turned upside down! I’ve found something new, however; try one of these.”He passed around a cigarette case and the hoped-for diversion was created, but Storm’s heart felt like lead within him and he dared not meet George’s eyes. He tried to think collectedly, but the very weight of his own guilt prevented him from viewing the case sanely from an unbiassed attitude. Here, within the hour, the last links in the chain of circumstantial evidence had been forged against him in George’s eyes had the latter but the sense to grasp the full significance of what he had learned. The reported loss of his capital, his presence at the terminal at the time of Horton’s supposed arrival, George’s own theory that Horton had been a victim of someone he knew and trusted, the proximity of the place where the body was found to Storm’s rooms, the testimony of the policeman as to the two pedestrians, the coincidence of the newspapers in Horton’s bag supplying the missing parts of those in Storm’s possession; why, the thing was patent on the face of it!Only George’s ignorance concerning the newspapers, his blind faith in his friend and the improbability of his grasping so monstrous a solution stood between Storm and certain exposure. But was it an improbability? Was George even now putting the facts together and waiting to strike?Storm sat back in silence, puffing his cigarette and leaving the burden of conversation to the others. He heard the Colonel’s deep bass, Griffiths’ keen, incisive tones and George’s measured, phlegmatic voice with no change in its unemotional timbre, but they came to him as from a distance. Did George know? The thought held him as in a vice and he longed for yet dreaded the moment when they should be alone together, which he felt must reveal the truth.At length George rose somewhat heavily and turned to his friend.“Shall we be getting on, Norman? Unless you would prefer to dine here, of course——”“No.” Storm, too, got out of his chair. “We’ve a lot of things to settle about our trip.”They took leave of their friends and left the club, and still George’s manner remained, to the other man’s over-analytical state of mind, significantly grave and reticent. He could endure the suspense no longer, and a spirit of bravado entered into him.“That did me good, rather; to get to the club and see some of the old fellows again,” Storm declared mendaciously. “What are you silent about, old man?”“Nothing; I’ve been thinking,” George responded. “All your fishing gear is down at Greenlea, isn’t it? Can you write to MacWhirter and get it here by Monday?”Storm gave a furtive sidelong glance at him, but George was plodding along with an inscrutable countenance.“I can run down overnight and pick out what I need,” Storm asserted shortly. “We can make out a list to-night. Suppose we stop at the Blenheim Grill here for a bite and then go on up to my rooms?”George accepted without comment, and they were soon ensconced at a table as far as possible from the blatant orchestra, in a corner half screened by palms. As Storm studied the menu he glanced up to find his companion’s eyes fixed upon him in troubled, questioning scrutiny, and he flung the card aside.“What is it?” he demanded savagely. As well to have it over here and now! He could endure the suspense no longer. “There’s been something wrong with you ever since we left the club. For heaven’s sake get it off your chest!”“Well,” George responded slowly. “I couldn’t help hearing what Griffiths said as I came in, and to tell you the truth, old man, I am rather hurt at your lack of confidence in me.”Storm unconsciously braced himself. It was coming!“You mean about the Du Chainat affair?” he blustered. “That meddlesome old fool knows nothing about my business! I call it infernal cheek, his attempting to say the man ever victimized me! There’s not a word of truth in it.”“I read of the swindle in the newspapers, and I remember that I was the one to tell you of the Du Chainat exposure; I showed the article to you myself.” George spoke more to himself than to the other man, as though correlating his thoughts aloud. “I recall that you seemed interested about it, even excited, but you never mentioned the fact that you knew the man, much less that he had tried to take you in on his schemes. It wasn’t like you, Norman; you’ve told me everything, ever since we were boys, and I am wondering where I could have failed you.”An injured, plaintive note had crept into his patient voice, and in a sudden access of hope Storm seized upon his opportunity.“You haven’t failed me, dear old George! It was my accursed pride, as usual. I wouldn’t admit it to Griffiths for worlds, but I did pretty nearly fall for that fellow’s bunk! When you showed me that the whole thing was a swindle I was aghast at my narrow escape, and I made up my mind I wouldn’t give you the chance to preach at me again about reckless investments. If I had told you how nearly I came to letting Du Chainat hoodwink me you would have been as worried as a maiden aunt about any future venture I might want to make, and I didn’t care to have you know what an ass I had been!” His tone was a perfect simulation of shame-faced confidence. “Millard might have told you that I knew the pseudo Du Chainat. He introduced me to him himself, and if it hadn’t been for Mrs. Millard, who holds the purse strings, the old boy would have been one of Du Chainat’s victims. He was strong for the scheme, but for once I had a gleam of sense and held out.”George shook his head.“I’m sorry if I have seemed to preach at you,” he said. “Your money is your own, of course, to do with as you please, and you are a man grown, but you have always been to me the impulsive, reckless boy I knew at college——”“Whom you helped out of many a scrape!” Storm put in quickly. “You don’t think I have ever forgotten, do you, old man? It wasn’t lack of confidence, but fear of ‘I told you so’ that prevented me from telling you what I knew personally of Du Chainat. Griffiths was all wrong in that, however. Du Chainat may have put me down for a boob, but I never dropped a cent in his scheme.”“I’m glad to hear it,” George remarked earnestly, but to Storm’s apprehensive ear there was the same hint of skepticism in his voice that the lawyer’s had evinced, and he burst out recklessly:“Look here, you don’t think I am holding out on you now, do you? You don’t think I was such a fool? If I had put all my capital in Du Chainat’s hands, and he had taken it to the bottom of the sea with him, where on earth would I have gotten the money for this long trip I proposed taking or investment in a new concern when I got back?”He could have bitten his tongue out the instant the words had left his lips. What a consummate fool to open the way for suspicion to enter George’s mind, if it were not there already! But while he sat inwardly cursing himself for his mad indiscretion, the other’s face cleared as if by magic.“Of course, Norman! I have been worrying a little for the last hour, but I might have known you hadn’t gone into the scheme, for it would have pretty well cleaned you out, wouldn’t it? Now that you are going to stay on at the trust company——” he broke off and added: “I’m sure that you are! Our fishing trip will buck you up wonderfully, and you’ll come back in fine form!”“I hope so.” Storm breathed freely. The danger point was past! But he must cinch it in the other’s mind . . . . “I’ve still got my capital, you know; what there is left of it from that copper gamble two years ago.”“Well, nothing is sure but death and taxes, you must remember. Even the Mammoth Trust might go under, so don’t regard your fifty thousand as velvet and take some wild flyer with it, without consulting Foulkes or me.” George checked himself with a sheepish grin. “There I go preaching again! I vow I won’t any more—Say! That waiter has been hovering about for the last twenty minutes. What are we going to have?”Dinner ordered, the conversation turned upon their forthcoming expedition, and as the meal progressed all of Storm’s wonted self-confidence returned to him in full measure. These vague fears about old George and his suspicions were nothing but the chimera of exhausted nerves, and he was a fool to permit them to give him a moment’s disquietude. Millard and his damned wager had worked upon him, but Millard was an ass! The very way that he had fallen for Du Chainat proved—— Storm caught himself up in his chain of reasoning with a grimace of ironic disgust. He, too, had fallen for Du Chainat, and harder even than had Millard. Gad, was he getting so that he believed his own lies?At any rate, the result of the wager was a foregone conclusion. He could not fail to carry on successfully to the end now; his plans had been laid too well! Not one single setback had occurred and no one, nothing could touch him. He could endure old George’s unadulterated company for a week or so, and the sojourn in the woods would steady his nerves and give him time to plan cool-headedly for the future.By the time they returned, the Horton investigation would have slumped to a mere nominal affair, and soon thereafter he might announce his adherence to his original plan, to which George could then have no opposition to offer since his own suggestion would have failed of its object. Everything would work out smoothly, perfectly; the greatest stunt of the age would go through without a hitch; and it was all due to his foresight, his genius for detail! There was nothing he could not accomplish in the future, no one living who was his master; and the best of it all was that no one suspected his greatness! Not a living soul with whom he came in contact realized that he was other than a pleasant enough fellow, a gentleman born and bred but without much business head or executive ability; a tame, futile sort of person, who would never set the Thames on fire. God, it was the biggest joke perpetrated on the community since time began! It was almost too good to keep!But as they left the grill and made their way to his rooms, in the midst of his exultation there came to him another dampening thought. Had George noticed the coincidence of his having been near the Grand Central Station at the very hour of Horton’s supposed arrival, as revealed by Colonel Walker’s unlucky chance remark? Storm dared not draw his attention to the coincidence itself if it had escaped him, yet a perverse instinct drove him on to ascertain if he had noted the significance of the date mentioned.“Old Walker is putting on flesh again since demobilization took place,” he began tentatively. “I hear he has been hitting it up quite a little lately.”“He is a pretty good fellow,” George replied tolerantly. “Likes to swagger and make out that he’s a regular devil, but there is no real harm in him.—Say, we’d better get some new G. lines, and if I were you I’d look over that four-and-a-half-ounce rod of yours.”“That’s all right.” Storm returned insistently to his point. “I wonder who was giving the stag house-party up in Westchester for which the Colonel was bound when he hailed me? Odd that I should not have heard him, for he bellows like a bull.”“Oh, well, in a crowd——” George’s tone was absent and he broke off to announce with vigor. “I’ll tell you one thing; if you expect any luck you had better get a Montreal or two. The pet Parmachini Belle of yours would make any bass in the lake give you a laugh!”Another dangerous chance eliminated!——Danger? Storm chuckled with amusement at the thought. To test old George further was like taking milk from a blind kitten! Only a miracle could harm him now and the age of miracles was past. He was invincible, indeed!“Ashes be damned!”
On the following day, to George’s surprise and gratification Storm appeared at his office at noon and dragged him unceremoniously off for lunch. In the course of their long friendship he had been almost invariably the one to seek out his more brilliant companion, and he was touched at this evidence of a need of him.
“I must say you look pretty bad, Norman,” he began with tactless solicitude. “And you were as nervous as a woman last night; I could see it. You are not taking care of yourself——”
“I don’t sleep well,” Storm interrupted shortly. “I wanted to talk things over with you. I’ve been thinking about that trip I proposed taking——”
“Yes?” George urged eagerly as he paused.
“Well, I don’t know but what you are right if I can only pull myself together somehow.” Storm weighed each word with care. “You cannot appreciate what I have been through in the last month or you would realize how desperately I want to get away from all reminders of my—my grief; but if I can fight it without cutting myself adrift and losing my connection with the trust company, it would be foolish to sacrifice such a sinecure, especially when I have nothing else absolutely definite in view.”
He could invent that ‘something else’ easily enough, he reflected as he watched George’s glowing face, when the moment came for departure. Meanwhile, he had decided to play safe; it would not be long! As the words formed in his mind he shuddered involuntarily; that had been Jack Horton’s expression! He had boasted of playing safe in the very hour of his death!
“Of course it would! I knew you would come to your senses, old man!” George cried warmly. “I do realize what you must have suffered, but the only way to forget is to fight it. You—you can count on me, you know!”
Storm nodded.
“I am sure of that.” He paused and added: “About that little fishing trip you suggested; do you think you could get away?”
“Surest thing you know! I’m feeling seedy myself, and it will do us both good. Shall we ask Millard to join us?”
“Heavens, no! He is an infernal nuisance!” Storm exclaimed hastily. Through the long night hours he had planned his trip for the express purpose of keeping George and his inconvenient theories away from the too loquacious disseminator of news from Headquarters. “I only want you, George. How soon do you think you can get away?”
In secret distaste he watched the other’s puppy-like wriggle of affectionate gratification at this mark of favor. What a fool he had been to fear him! Yet there might still be a chance for George to suspect, and if he did he would not rest until he had ferreted out the truth.
“Let’s see; this is Wednesday,” George responded. “I ought to be able to make it by the first of next week. I’ll talk to Abbott about it this afternoon and let you know later. Say, why don’t you meet me at the Club?”
Storm made a quick gesture of rejection.
“I haven’t been there since——”
“I know, and that’s just why it will do you good,” George urged. “You’ve got to take the plunge some time, you know. There is no good in isolating yourself and brooding, as you have been doing. Most of the fellows are away now for the hot weather; you won’t find half a dozen there before dinner.”
“We-ell,” Storm conceded. The ubiquitous Millard would not be present, at any rate, nor would anyone else who had the slightest interest in the murder of an obscure paymaster; and now that the suggestion had been made he felt a vague desire to see the old club once more. “I’ll meet you there at half-past five.”
The papers were still devoting much front-page space to the murder and robbery, but it was concerned principally with the activities of the detectives employed by Miss Saulsbury and those of the Mid-Eastern Corporation. The Police Department was reported as making progress, but its nature was not disclosed; and Storm smiled to himself as he read. No mention was made of the two men seen walking on the Drive, but the incident of the motor car was prominently exploited, and the generally accepted theory seemed to be that the body had been brought from some undetermined distance and flung over the wall.
All reference to the bag and its contents when found at the terminal had been permitted to drop, and he looked in vain for any suggestion that the numbers of the bills were known.
When he reached the club that afternoon he found that George had not yet arrived; but a tall, lanky figure arose with outstretched hand from the window seat.
“Hello, old fellow! Glad to see you back! We’ve been asking about you.”
“Thanks, Griffiths. I’ve not been away,” Storm replied briefly. “Just haven’t felt sociable, that’s all.”
“I know. We heard of course. Very sad! We all felt for you.”
The lawyer, who was noted for his eloquence in court, halted now in a constrained fashion, and Storm replied quietly. “I’m sure of that. Everyone has been very good, but this is the sort of thing one has to bear alone. I am thinking of getting away shortly for a trip——”
“There was another matter, too, of which I was sorry to learn,” Griffiths interrupted him. “You were badly hit in the Mertens-Du Chainat swindle, weren’t you?”
“I?” Storm’s surprise at the question was unfeigned, and his eyes shifted beneath the other’s level gaze. “Indeed, no! Where did you hear that?”
“From a rather direct source,” the lawyer responded slowly. “In fact, from a private examination of some papers belonging to the pseudo Du Chainat which were unearthed after his departure. A client of mine happens to have been among his victims, and I was in a conference of attorneys who were permitted to make an examination of the effects which Du Chainat overlooked or had no time to destroy. Among them was a list of his victims, together with the amount he had obtained from each; a methodical scoundrel, wasn’t he? He had you down for sixty thousand, and as all the other items on the list were verified by the victims themselves I naturally concluded that his plans had gone through in your case. Sorry if I have made a stupid mistake.”
“Not stupid!” Storm smiled frigidly. “Natural enough, under the circumstances. I met the fellow and he put his proposition up to me; I didn’t bite, but I let him down so easily that probably he considered me one of his prospects. To tell you the truth he interested me as a type, but I wasn’t fool enough to fall for his game.”
“I am glad for your own sake.” There still remained that dry note of mental reservation in the lawyer’s tone. “He victimized some of the most astute business men in the country. ——Hello, Holworthy!”
Storm turned as if stung. George was coming forward from the door with a preternaturally grave expression upon his wide, ingenuous face. How long had he been standing there? Confound his pussy-footing ways! How much had he heard? Storm was inwardly seething with rage at Griffith’s interference in his affairs as well as at George’s inopportune arrival, but he forced himself to greet the newcomer equably, striving to learn from his manner if the conversation had reached his ears.
“I was late because Abbott kept me going over some details at the office,” the latter explained quietly. “He thinks I can get away all right by Monday. Suppose instead of the Beaverkill we try the north woods? The bass ought to be running well up there——”
“So that’s the trip you meant, eh?” Griffiths interrupted. “Gad, wish I could join you! I’d like to get a breath of the big woods in the silence and peace of it after the eternal court wrangles of this last term, but there isn’t a chance for me. I envy you two fellows!”
Two more members, a banker and the editor of one of the big dailies, joined them, refreshments were ordered, and to Storm’s relief the talk drifted off on general topics; but he studied George furtively. If he had heard, would he accept Storm’s denial that he had been victimized by Du Chainat? The lawyer had evidently remained skeptical, but he was not as conversant with Storm’s affairs and financial position as was George. If the latter believed that his friend had been hard hit, would he not naturally wonder where he had obtained the money for the long overseas trip he contemplated, and wondering, blunder upon the truth?
A half hour passed, the little group broke up and Storm and his companion were on the point of departure when a hearty, good-humored voice boomed from the doorway and an elderly man with a bluff military swagger bore down upon them.
“Great Guns, Storm, but it’s good to see you here again! I wrote you—you got my letter?—when I heard of your loss. Terrible thing, terrible! Damn fine little lady——”
He paused, clearing his throat and clapping Storm resoundingly on the shoulder.
“Thanks, Colonel; yes, I received your letter,” the latter responded. “Meant to reply to it, but George here can tell you that I’ve been rather unsettled——”
“Heard you had moved to town and taken somebody’s rooms up on the Drive,” Colonel Walker interrupted. “We’ve needed you here for a fourth at bridge; had to take on Paine, and he’s rotten——”
“I like that!” the editor retorted indignantly. “Who revoked twice in one evening——?”
“That was because we were playing for low stakes. I’m never on my mettle unless the game is away over my head.” The Colonel laughed and added: “Saw you the other night, Storm, and tried to hail you but you got away in the crowd. I wanted to drag you off to a stag house party up in Westchester. Let’s see; that was last Wednesday night, over by the Grand Central Station——”
“You must have been mistaken!” Storm interrupted hastily. He could feel George’s eyes upon him, and this fresh turn of affairs left him aghast.
“No, I’m not,” Colonel Walker insisted bluntly. “It was Wednesday night, I remember, just around dinner time, for it was raining like blazes and you were dodging along under your umbrella——”
“Oh, yes!” Storm parried desperately. “I recall it now, but I didn’t see you, old chap. I was on my way to my tobacconist’s. By the way, that was a wonderful brand of cigarettes you used to get from Turkey before the war. I’ve been trying to remember the name——”
The colonel’s laugh boomed out in good humored derision.
“Much good it would do you now! They aren’t made any more; in fact I doubt if that grade of tobacco is grown over there since the world turned upside down! I’ve found something new, however; try one of these.”
He passed around a cigarette case and the hoped-for diversion was created, but Storm’s heart felt like lead within him and he dared not meet George’s eyes. He tried to think collectedly, but the very weight of his own guilt prevented him from viewing the case sanely from an unbiassed attitude. Here, within the hour, the last links in the chain of circumstantial evidence had been forged against him in George’s eyes had the latter but the sense to grasp the full significance of what he had learned. The reported loss of his capital, his presence at the terminal at the time of Horton’s supposed arrival, George’s own theory that Horton had been a victim of someone he knew and trusted, the proximity of the place where the body was found to Storm’s rooms, the testimony of the policeman as to the two pedestrians, the coincidence of the newspapers in Horton’s bag supplying the missing parts of those in Storm’s possession; why, the thing was patent on the face of it!
Only George’s ignorance concerning the newspapers, his blind faith in his friend and the improbability of his grasping so monstrous a solution stood between Storm and certain exposure. But was it an improbability? Was George even now putting the facts together and waiting to strike?
Storm sat back in silence, puffing his cigarette and leaving the burden of conversation to the others. He heard the Colonel’s deep bass, Griffiths’ keen, incisive tones and George’s measured, phlegmatic voice with no change in its unemotional timbre, but they came to him as from a distance. Did George know? The thought held him as in a vice and he longed for yet dreaded the moment when they should be alone together, which he felt must reveal the truth.
At length George rose somewhat heavily and turned to his friend.
“Shall we be getting on, Norman? Unless you would prefer to dine here, of course——”
“No.” Storm, too, got out of his chair. “We’ve a lot of things to settle about our trip.”
They took leave of their friends and left the club, and still George’s manner remained, to the other man’s over-analytical state of mind, significantly grave and reticent. He could endure the suspense no longer, and a spirit of bravado entered into him.
“That did me good, rather; to get to the club and see some of the old fellows again,” Storm declared mendaciously. “What are you silent about, old man?”
“Nothing; I’ve been thinking,” George responded. “All your fishing gear is down at Greenlea, isn’t it? Can you write to MacWhirter and get it here by Monday?”
Storm gave a furtive sidelong glance at him, but George was plodding along with an inscrutable countenance.
“I can run down overnight and pick out what I need,” Storm asserted shortly. “We can make out a list to-night. Suppose we stop at the Blenheim Grill here for a bite and then go on up to my rooms?”
George accepted without comment, and they were soon ensconced at a table as far as possible from the blatant orchestra, in a corner half screened by palms. As Storm studied the menu he glanced up to find his companion’s eyes fixed upon him in troubled, questioning scrutiny, and he flung the card aside.
“What is it?” he demanded savagely. As well to have it over here and now! He could endure the suspense no longer. “There’s been something wrong with you ever since we left the club. For heaven’s sake get it off your chest!”
“Well,” George responded slowly. “I couldn’t help hearing what Griffiths said as I came in, and to tell you the truth, old man, I am rather hurt at your lack of confidence in me.”
Storm unconsciously braced himself. It was coming!
“You mean about the Du Chainat affair?” he blustered. “That meddlesome old fool knows nothing about my business! I call it infernal cheek, his attempting to say the man ever victimized me! There’s not a word of truth in it.”
“I read of the swindle in the newspapers, and I remember that I was the one to tell you of the Du Chainat exposure; I showed the article to you myself.” George spoke more to himself than to the other man, as though correlating his thoughts aloud. “I recall that you seemed interested about it, even excited, but you never mentioned the fact that you knew the man, much less that he had tried to take you in on his schemes. It wasn’t like you, Norman; you’ve told me everything, ever since we were boys, and I am wondering where I could have failed you.”
An injured, plaintive note had crept into his patient voice, and in a sudden access of hope Storm seized upon his opportunity.
“You haven’t failed me, dear old George! It was my accursed pride, as usual. I wouldn’t admit it to Griffiths for worlds, but I did pretty nearly fall for that fellow’s bunk! When you showed me that the whole thing was a swindle I was aghast at my narrow escape, and I made up my mind I wouldn’t give you the chance to preach at me again about reckless investments. If I had told you how nearly I came to letting Du Chainat hoodwink me you would have been as worried as a maiden aunt about any future venture I might want to make, and I didn’t care to have you know what an ass I had been!” His tone was a perfect simulation of shame-faced confidence. “Millard might have told you that I knew the pseudo Du Chainat. He introduced me to him himself, and if it hadn’t been for Mrs. Millard, who holds the purse strings, the old boy would have been one of Du Chainat’s victims. He was strong for the scheme, but for once I had a gleam of sense and held out.”
George shook his head.
“I’m sorry if I have seemed to preach at you,” he said. “Your money is your own, of course, to do with as you please, and you are a man grown, but you have always been to me the impulsive, reckless boy I knew at college——”
“Whom you helped out of many a scrape!” Storm put in quickly. “You don’t think I have ever forgotten, do you, old man? It wasn’t lack of confidence, but fear of ‘I told you so’ that prevented me from telling you what I knew personally of Du Chainat. Griffiths was all wrong in that, however. Du Chainat may have put me down for a boob, but I never dropped a cent in his scheme.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” George remarked earnestly, but to Storm’s apprehensive ear there was the same hint of skepticism in his voice that the lawyer’s had evinced, and he burst out recklessly:
“Look here, you don’t think I am holding out on you now, do you? You don’t think I was such a fool? If I had put all my capital in Du Chainat’s hands, and he had taken it to the bottom of the sea with him, where on earth would I have gotten the money for this long trip I proposed taking or investment in a new concern when I got back?”
He could have bitten his tongue out the instant the words had left his lips. What a consummate fool to open the way for suspicion to enter George’s mind, if it were not there already! But while he sat inwardly cursing himself for his mad indiscretion, the other’s face cleared as if by magic.
“Of course, Norman! I have been worrying a little for the last hour, but I might have known you hadn’t gone into the scheme, for it would have pretty well cleaned you out, wouldn’t it? Now that you are going to stay on at the trust company——” he broke off and added: “I’m sure that you are! Our fishing trip will buck you up wonderfully, and you’ll come back in fine form!”
“I hope so.” Storm breathed freely. The danger point was past! But he must cinch it in the other’s mind . . . . “I’ve still got my capital, you know; what there is left of it from that copper gamble two years ago.”
“Well, nothing is sure but death and taxes, you must remember. Even the Mammoth Trust might go under, so don’t regard your fifty thousand as velvet and take some wild flyer with it, without consulting Foulkes or me.” George checked himself with a sheepish grin. “There I go preaching again! I vow I won’t any more—Say! That waiter has been hovering about for the last twenty minutes. What are we going to have?”
Dinner ordered, the conversation turned upon their forthcoming expedition, and as the meal progressed all of Storm’s wonted self-confidence returned to him in full measure. These vague fears about old George and his suspicions were nothing but the chimera of exhausted nerves, and he was a fool to permit them to give him a moment’s disquietude. Millard and his damned wager had worked upon him, but Millard was an ass! The very way that he had fallen for Du Chainat proved—— Storm caught himself up in his chain of reasoning with a grimace of ironic disgust. He, too, had fallen for Du Chainat, and harder even than had Millard. Gad, was he getting so that he believed his own lies?
At any rate, the result of the wager was a foregone conclusion. He could not fail to carry on successfully to the end now; his plans had been laid too well! Not one single setback had occurred and no one, nothing could touch him. He could endure old George’s unadulterated company for a week or so, and the sojourn in the woods would steady his nerves and give him time to plan cool-headedly for the future.
By the time they returned, the Horton investigation would have slumped to a mere nominal affair, and soon thereafter he might announce his adherence to his original plan, to which George could then have no opposition to offer since his own suggestion would have failed of its object. Everything would work out smoothly, perfectly; the greatest stunt of the age would go through without a hitch; and it was all due to his foresight, his genius for detail! There was nothing he could not accomplish in the future, no one living who was his master; and the best of it all was that no one suspected his greatness! Not a living soul with whom he came in contact realized that he was other than a pleasant enough fellow, a gentleman born and bred but without much business head or executive ability; a tame, futile sort of person, who would never set the Thames on fire. God, it was the biggest joke perpetrated on the community since time began! It was almost too good to keep!
But as they left the grill and made their way to his rooms, in the midst of his exultation there came to him another dampening thought. Had George noticed the coincidence of his having been near the Grand Central Station at the very hour of Horton’s supposed arrival, as revealed by Colonel Walker’s unlucky chance remark? Storm dared not draw his attention to the coincidence itself if it had escaped him, yet a perverse instinct drove him on to ascertain if he had noted the significance of the date mentioned.
“Old Walker is putting on flesh again since demobilization took place,” he began tentatively. “I hear he has been hitting it up quite a little lately.”
“He is a pretty good fellow,” George replied tolerantly. “Likes to swagger and make out that he’s a regular devil, but there is no real harm in him.—Say, we’d better get some new G. lines, and if I were you I’d look over that four-and-a-half-ounce rod of yours.”
“That’s all right.” Storm returned insistently to his point. “I wonder who was giving the stag house-party up in Westchester for which the Colonel was bound when he hailed me? Odd that I should not have heard him, for he bellows like a bull.”
“Oh, well, in a crowd——” George’s tone was absent and he broke off to announce with vigor. “I’ll tell you one thing; if you expect any luck you had better get a Montreal or two. The pet Parmachini Belle of yours would make any bass in the lake give you a laugh!”
Another dangerous chance eliminated!——Danger? Storm chuckled with amusement at the thought. To test old George further was like taking milk from a blind kitten! Only a miracle could harm him now and the age of miracles was past. He was invincible, indeed!
“Ashes be damned!”