Nine o’clock is an early hour for a New York lawyer of prominence to be at his place of business. Yet, when Captain Elisha asked the office boy of Sylvester, Kuhn and Graves if the senior partner was in, he received an affirmative answer.
“Yes, sir,” said Tim, respectfully. His manner toward the captain had changed surprisingly since the latter’s first call. “Yes, sir; Mr. Sylvester’s in. He expects you. I’ll tell him you’re here. Sit down and wait, please.”
Captain Elisha sat down, but he did not have to wait long. The boy returned at once and ushered him into the private office. Sylvester welcomed him gravely.
“You got my message, then,” he said. “I spent hours last evening chasing you by ’phone. And I was prepared to begin again this morning.”
“So? That’s why you’re on deck so early? Didn’t sleep here, did you? Well, I cal’late I know what you want to talk about. You ain’t the only one that reads the newspapers.”
“The newspapers? Great heavens! it isn’t in the newspapers, is it? It can’t be!”
He seemed much perturbed. Captain Elisha looked puzzled.
“Course it is,” he said. “But I heard it afore I saw it. Perhaps you think I take it pretty easy. Maybe I act as if I did. But you expected it, and so did I, so we ain’t exactly surprised. And,” seriously, “I realizethat it’s no joke as well as you do. But we’ve got a year to fight in, and now we must plan the campaign. I did cal’late to see Caroline this mornin’. Then, if I heard from her own lips that ’twas actually so, I didn’t know’s I wouldn’t drop in and give Sister Corcoran-Queen-Victoria-Dunn a few plain facts about it not bein’ a healthy investment to hurry matters. You’re wantin’ to see me headed me off, and I come here instead.”
The lawyer looked at him in astonishment.
“See here, Captain Warren,” he demanded, “what do you imagine I asked you to come here for?”
“Why, to talk about that miserable engagement, sartin. Poor girl! I’ve been awake ha’f the night thinkin’ of the mess she’s been led into. And she believes she’s happy, I suppose.”
Sylvester shook his head. “I see,” he said, slowly. “You would think it that, naturally. No, Captain, it isn’t the engagement. It’s more serious than that.”
“More serious than—moreserious! Why, what on earth? Hey? Mr. Sylvester, has that rock-lighthouse business come to somethin’ after all?”
The lawyer nodded. “It has,” he replied.
“I want to know! And I’d almost forgot it, not hearin’ from you. It’s a rock, too, I judge, by the looks of your face. Humph!... Is it very bad?”
“I’m afraid so.”
The captain pulled his beard. “Well,” he said, wearily, after a moment, “I guess likely I can bear it. I’ve had to bear some things in my time. Anyhow, I’ll try. Heave ahead and get it over with. I’m ready.”
Instead of answering, Sylvester pushed an electric button on his desk. The office boy answered the ring.
“Have Mr. Kuhn and Mr. Graves arrived?” asked the lawyer.
“Yes, sir. Both of them, sir.”
“Tell them Captain Warren is here, and ask them to join us in the inner room. Remind Mr. Graves to bring the papers. And, Tim, remember that none of us is to be disturbed. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir,” said Tim and departed.
Captain Elisha regarded his friend with some dismay.
“Say!” he exclaimed, “thismustbe serious, if it takes the skipper and both mates to handle it.”
Sylvester did not smile. “It is,” he answered. “Come.”
He led the way into the room opening from the rear of his own. It was a large apartment with a long table in the center. Mr. Kuhn, brisk and business-like, was already there. He shook hands with his client. As he did so, Graves, dignified and precise as ever, entered, carrying a small portfolio filled with papers.
“Mornin’, Mr. Graves,” said the captain; “glad to see you, even under such distressin’ circumstances, as the undertaker said to the sick man. Feelin’ all right again, I hope. No more colds or nothin’ like that?”
“No. Thank you. I am quite well, at present.”
“That’s hearty. If you and me don’t do any more buggy ridin’ in Cape Cod typhoons, we’ll last a spell yet, hey? What you got there, the death warrant?” referring to the portfolio and its contents.
Mr. Graves evidently did not consider this flippancy worth a reply, for he made none.
“Sit down, gentlemen,” said Sylvester.
The four took chairs at the table. Graves untied and opened the portfolio. Captain Elisha looked at his solemn companions, and his lips twitched.
“You’ll excuse me,” he observed, “but I feel as if I was goin’ to be tried for piracy on the high seas. Hasthe court any objection to tobacco smoke? I’m puttin’ the emphasis strong on the ‘tobacco,’” he added, “because this is a cigar you give me yourself, Mr. Sylvester, last time I was down here.”
“No, indeed,” replied the senior partner. “Smoke, if you wish. No one here has any objection, unless it may be Graves.”
“Oh, Mr. Graves ain’t. He and I fired up together that night we fust met. Hot smoke tasted grateful after all the cold water we’d had poured onto us in that storm. Graves is all right. He’s a sportin’ character, like myself. Maybe he’ll jine us. Got another cigar in my pocket.”
But the invitation was declined. The “sporting character” might deign to relax amid proper and fitting surroundings, but not in the sacred precincts of his office. So the captain smoked alone.
“Well,” he observed, after a few preliminary puffs, “go on! Don’t keep me in suspenders, as the feller said. Where did the lightnin’ strike, and what’s the damage?”
Sylvester took a card from his pocket and referred to a penciled memorandum on its back.
“Captain Warren,” he began, slowly, “as you know, and as directed by you, my partners here and I have been engaged for months in carefully going over your brother’s effects, estimating values, tabulating and sorting his various properties and securities, separating the good from the worthless—and there was, as we saw at a glance, a surprising amount of the latter—”
“Um-hm,” interrupted the captain, “Cut Short bonds and the like of that. I know. Excuse me. Go on.”
“Yes. Precisely. And there were many just as valueless. But we have been gradually getting thoseout of the way and listing and appraising the remainder. It was a tangle. Your brother’s business methods, especially of late years, were decidedly unsystematic and slipshod. It may have been the condition of his health which prevented his attending to them as he should. Or,” he hesitated slightly, “it may have been that he was secretly in great trouble and mental distress. At all events, the task has been a hard one for us. But, largely owing to Graves and his patient work, our report was practically ready a month ago.”
He paused. Captain Elisha, who had been listening attentively, nodded.
“Yes,” he said; “you told me ’twas. What does the whole thing tot up to? What’s the final figger, Mr. Graves?”
The junior partner adjusted his eyeglasses to his thin nose.
“I have them here,” he said. “The list of securities, et cetera, is rather long, but—”
“Never mind them now, Graves,” interrupted Kuhn. “The amount, roughly speaking, is close to over our original estimate, half a million.”
The captain drew a breath of relief. “Well,” he exclaimed, “that’s all right then, ain’t it? That’s no poorhouse pension.”
Sylvester answered. “Yes,” he said, “that’s all right, as far as it goes.”
“Humph! Well, I cal’lateIcould make it go to the end of the route; and then have enough left for a return ticket. Say!” with another look at the solemn faces of the three, “whatisthe row? If the estate is wuth ha’f a million, what’s the matter with it?”
“That is what we are here this morning to discuss, Captain. A month ago, as I said, we considered ourreport practically ready. Then we suddenly happened on the trail of something which, upon investigation, upset all our calculations. If true, it threatened, not to mention its effect upon the estate, to prove so distressing and painful to us, Rodgers Warren’s friends and legal advisers, that we decided not to alarm you, his brother, by disclosing our suspicions until we were sure there was no mistake. I did drop you a hint, you will remember—”
“I remember.Nowwe’re comin’ to the rock!”
“Yes. Captain Warren, I think perhaps I ought to warn you that what my partners and I are about to say will shock and hurt you. I, personally, knew your brother well and respected him as an honorable business man. A lawyer learns not to put too much trust in human nature, but, I confess, this—this—”
He was evidently greatly disturbed. Captain Elisha, regarding him intently, nodded.
“I judge it’s sort of hard for you to go on, Mr. Sylvester,” he said. “I’ll help you all I can. You and Mr. Kuhn and Mr. Graves here have found out somethin’ that ain’t exactly straight in ’Bije’s doin’s? Am I right?”
“Yes, Captain Warren, you are.”
“Somethin’ that don’t help his character, hey?”
“Yes.”
“Somethin’s he’s, done that’s—well, to speak plain, that’s crooked?”
“I’m afraid there’s no doubt of it.”
“Humph!” The captain frowned. His cigar had gone out, and he idly twisted the stump between his fingers. “Well,” he said, with a sigh, “our family, gen’rally speakin’, has always held its head pretty high. Dad was poor, but he prided himself on bein’ straightas a plumb line. And, as for mother, she....” Then, looking up quickly, he asked, “Does anybody outside know about this?”
“No one but ourselves—yet.”
“Yet? Is it goin’ to be necessary for anybody else to know it?”
“We hope not. But there is a possibility.”
“I was thinkin’ about the children.”
“Of course. So are we all.”
“Um-hm. Poor Caroline! she put her father on a sort of altar and bowed down afore him, as you might say. Any sort of disgrace to his name would about kill her. As for me,” with another sigh, “I ain’t so much surprised as you might think. I know that sounds tough to say about your own brother, but I’ve been afraid all along. You see, ’Bije always steered pretty close to the edge of the channel. He had ideas about honesty and fair dealin’ in business that didn’t jibe with mine. We split on just that, as I told you, Mr. Graves, when you and I fust met. He got some South Denboro folks to invest money along with him; sort of savin’s account, they figgered it; but I found out he was usin’ it to speculate with. So that’s why we had our row. I took pains to see that the money was paid back, but he and I never spoke afterwards. Fur as my own money was concerned, I hadn’t any kick, but.... However, I’m talkin’ too much. Go on, Mr. Sylvester, I’m ready to hear whatever you’ve got to say.”
“Thank you, Captain. You make it easier for me. It seems that your brother’s first step toward wealth and success was taken about nineteen years ago. Then, somehow or other, probably through a combination of luck and shrewdness, he obtained a grant, a concession from the Brazilian Government, the long term lease ofa good-sized tract of land on the upper Amazon. It was very valuable because of its rubber trees.”
“Hey?” Captain Elisha leaned forward. “Say that again!” he commanded sharply.
Sylvester repeated his statement. “He got the concession by paying twenty thousand dollars to the government of Brazil,” he continued. “To raise the twenty thousand he formed a stock company of two hundred and fifty shares at one hundred dollars each. One hundred of these shares were in his own name. Fifty were in the name of one ‘Thomas A. Craven,’ a clerk at that time in his office. Craven was only a dummy, however. Do you understand what I mean by a dummy?”
“I can guess. Sort of a wooden image that moved when ’Bije pulled the strings. Like one of these straw directors that clutter up the insurance companies, ’cordin’ to the papers. Yes, yes; I understand well enough. Go ahead! go ahead!”
“That’s it. The fifty shares were in Craven’s name, but they were transferred in blank and in Mr. Warren’s safe. Together with his own hundred, they gave him control and a voting majority. That much we know by the records.”
“I see. But this rubber con—contraption wa’n’t really wuth anything, was it?”
“Worth anything! Captain Warren, I give you my word that it was worth more than all the rest of the investments that your brother made during his lifetime.”
“No!” The exclamation was almost a shout.
“Why, yes, decidedly more. Does that surprise you, Captain?”
Captain Elisha did not answer. He was regardingthe lawyer with a dazed expression. He breathed heavily.
“What’s the matter?” demanded the watchful Kuhn, his gaze fixed upon his client’s face. “Do you know anything—”
The captain interrupted him. “Go on!” he commanded. “But tell me this fust: What was the name of this rubber concern of ’Bije’s?”
“The Akrae Rubber Company.”
“I see.... Yes, yes.... Akry, hey!... Well, what about it? Tell me the rest.”
“For the first year or two this company did nothing. Then, in March, of the third year, the property was released by Mr. Warren to persons in Para, who were to develop and operate. The terms of his new lease were very advantageous. Royalties were to be paid on a sliding scale, and, from the very first, they were large. The Akrae Company paid enormous dividends.”
“Did, hey? I want to know!”
“Yes. In fact, for twelve years the company’s royalties averaged $50,000 yearly.”
“Whe-e-w!” Captain Elisha whistled. “Fifty thousand a year!” he repeated slowly. “’Bije! ’Bije!”
“Yes. And three years ago the Akrae Company sold its lease, sold out completely to the Para people, for seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars.”
“Godfreys mighty! Well,” after a moment, “that’s what I’d call a middlin’ fair profit on a twenty thousand dollar investment—not to mention the dividends.”
“Captain,” Sylvester leaned forward now; “Captain,” he repeated, “it is that sale and the dividends which are troubling us. I told you that the Akrae Company was organized with two hundred and fifty shares of stock. Your brother held one hundred in his own name and fiftytransferred to him by his dummy, Craven. What I did not tell you was that there were another hundred shares, held by someone, someone who paid ten thousand dollars for them—we know that—and was, therefore, entitled to two-fifths of every dollar earned by the company during its existence, and two-fifths of the amount received for the sale of the lease. So far as we can find out, this stockholder has never received one cent.”
The effect of this amazing announcement upon the uniniated member of the council was not as great as the lawyers expected it to be. “You don’t tell me!” was his sole comment.
Graves broke in impatiently: “I think, Captain Warren,” he declared, “that you probably do not realize what this means. Besides proving your brother dishonest, it means that this stockholder, whoever he may have been—”
“Hey? What’s that? Don’t you know who he was?”
“No, we do not. The name upon the stub of the transfer book has been scratched out.”
Captain Elisha looked the speaker in the face, then slowly turned his look upon the other two faces.
“Scratched out?” he repeated. “Who scratched it out?”
Graves shrugged his shoulders.
“Yes, yes,” said the captain. “You don’t know, but we’re all entitled to guess, hey?... Humph!”
“If this person is living,” began Sylvester, “it follows that—”
“Hold on a minute! I don’t know much about corporations, of course—that’s more in your line than ’tis in mine—but I want to ask one question. You say this what-d’ye-call-it—this Akrae thingamajig—was soldout, hull, canvas and riggin’, to a crowd in Brazil? It’s gone out of business then? It’s dead?”
“Yes. But—”
“Wait! Ain’t it customary, when a sale like this is made, to turn over all the stock, certificates and all? Sometimes you get stock in the new company in exchange; I know that. But to complete the trade, wouldn’t this extry hundred shares be turned in? Or some sharp questionin’ done if ’twa’n’t?”
He addressed the query to Sylvester. The latter seemed more troubled than before.
“That,” he said with some hesitation, “is one of the delicate points in this talk of ours, Captain Warren. A certificate for the missing hundred shareswasturned in. It was dated at the time of the original issue, made out in the name of one Edward Bradley, and transferred on the back by him to your brother. That is, it was presumably so transferred.”
“Presumably. Pre-sumably? You mean—?”
“I mean that this certificate is—well, let us say, rather queer. To begin with, no one knows who this Bradley is, or was. His name appears nowhere except on that certificate, unless, of course, it did appear on the stub where the scratching has been done; we doubt that, for reasons. Nobody ever heard of the man; and his transfer to your brother was made, and the certificate signed by him, only three years ago, when the Akrae Company sold out. It will take too long to go into details; but thanks to the kindness of the Para concern, which has offices in this city—we have been able to examine this Bradley certificate. Experts have examined it, also. And they tell us—”
He paused.
“Well, what do they tell?” demanded the captain.
“They tell us that—that, in their opinion, the certificate was never issued at the time when, by this date, it presumes to have been. It was made out no longer ago than five years, probably less. The signature of Bradley on the back is—is—well, I hate to say it, Captain Warren, but the handwriting on that signature resembles very closely that of your brother.”
Captain Elisha was silent for some moments. The others did not speak, but waited. Even Graves, between whom and his client there was little in common, felt the general sympathy.
At length the captain raised his head.
“Well,” he said slowly, “we ain’t children. We might as well call things by their right names. ’Bije forged that certificate.”
“I’m afraid there is no doubt of it.”
“Dear! dear! dear! Why, they put folks in state’s prison for that!”
“Yes. But a dead man is beyond prisons.”
“That’s so. Then I don’t see—”
“You will. You don’t grasp the full meaning of this affair even yet. If the Bradley certificate is a forgery, a fraud from beginning to end, then the presumption is that there was never any such person as Bradley. Butsomeonepaid ten thousand dollars for one hundred Akrae shares when the company was formed.Thatcertificate has never been turned in. Some person or persons, somewhere, hold one hundred shares of Akrae Rubber Company stock. Think, now! Suppose that someone turns up and demands all that he has been cheated out of for the past seventeen years! Think of that!”
“Well ... I am thinkin’ of it. I got the scent of what you was drivin’ at five minutes ago. And I don’t see that we need to be afraid. He could have put ’Bijein jail; but ’Bije is already servin’ a longer sentence than he could give him. So that disgrace ain’t bearin’ down on us. And, if I understand about such things, his claim is against the Akrae Company, and that’s dead—dead as the man that started it. Maybe he could put in a keeper, or a receiver, or some such critter, but there’s nothin’ left to keep or receive. Ain’t I right?”
“You are. Or you would be, but for one thing, the really inexplicable thing in this whole miserable affair. Your brother, Captain Warren, was dishonest. He took money that didn’t belong to him, and he forged that certificate. But he must have intended to make restitution. He must have been conscience-stricken and more to be pitied, perhaps, than condemned. No doubt, when he first began to withhold the dividends and use the money which was not his, he intended merely to borrow. He was always optimistic and always plunging in desperate and sometimes rather shady speculations which, he was sure, would turn out favorably. If they had—if, for instance, the South Shore Trolley Combine had been put through—You knew of that, did you?”
“I’ve been told somethin’ about it. Go on!”
“Well, it was not put through, so his hopes there were frustrated. And that was but one of his schemes. However, when the sale of the Company was consummated, he did an extraordinary thing. He made out and signed his personal note, payable to the Akrae Company, for every cent he had misappropriated. And we found that note in his safe after his death. That was what first aroused our suspicions.Now, Captain Warren, do you understand?”
Captain Elisha did not understand, that was evident. His look of wondering amazement traveled from one face to the others about the table.
“Anote!” he repeated. “’Bije put hisnotein the safe? A note promisin’ to pay all he’d stole! And left it there where it could be found? Why, that’s pretty nigh unbelievable, Mr. Sylvester! He might just as well have confessed his crookedness and be done with it.”
“Yes. It is unbelievable, but it is true. Graves can show you the note.”
The junior partner produced a slip of paper from the portfolio and regarded it frowningly.
“Of all the pieces of sheer lunacy,” he observed, “that ever came under my observation, this is the worst. Here it is, Captain Warren.”
He extended the paper. Captain Elisha waved it aside.
“I don’t want to see it—not yet,” he protested. “I want to think. I want to get at the reason if I can. Why did he do it?”
“That is what we’ve been tryin’ to find—the reason,” remarked Kuhn, “and we can only guess. Sylvester has told you the guess. Rodgers Warren intended, or hoped, to make restitution before he died.”
“Yes. Knowin’ ’Bije, I can see that. He was weak, that was his main trouble. He didn’t mean to be crooked, but his knees wa’n’t strong enough to keep him straight when it come to a hard push. But he made his note payable to a Company that was already sold out, so it ain’t good for nothin’. Now, why—”
Graves struck the table with his open hand.
“He doesn’t understand at all,” he exclaimed, impatiently. “Captain Warren, listen! That note is made payable to the Akrae Company. Against that company some unknown stockholder has an apparent claim for two-fifths of all dividends ever paid and two-fifths of the seven hundred and fifty thousand received for the sale.With accrued interest, that claim amounts to over five hundred thousand dollars.”
“Yes, but—”
“That note binds Rodgers Warren’s estate to pay that claim. His own personal estate! And that estate is not worth over four hundred and sixty thousand dollars! If this stockholder should appear and press his claim,your brother’s children would be, not only penniless, but thirty thousand dollars in debt! There! I think that is plain enough!”
He leaned back, grimly satisfied with the effect of his statement. Captain Elisha stared straight before him, unseeingly, the color fading from his cheeks. Then he put both elbows on the table and covered his face with his hands.
“You see, Captain,” said Sylvester, gently, “how very serious the situation is. Graves has put it bluntly, but what he says is literally true. If your brother had deliberately planned to hand his children over to the mercy of that missing stockholder, he couldn’t have done it more completely.”
Slowly the captain raised his head. His expression was a strange one; agitated and shocked, but with a curious look of relief, almost of triumph.
“At last!” he said, solemnly. “At last! Now it’sallplain!”
“All?” repeated Sylvester. “You mean—?”
“I mean everything, all that’s been puzzlin’ me and troublin’ my head since the very beginnin’. All of it!NowI know why! Oh, ’Bije! ’Bije! ’Bije!”
Kuhn spoke quickly.
“Captain,” he said, “I believe you know who the owner of that one hundred shares is. Do you?”
Captain Elisha gravely nodded.
“Yes,” he answered. “I know him.”
“What?”
“You do?”
“Who is it?”
The questions were blurted out together. The captain looked at the three excited faces. He hesitated and then, taking the stub of a pencil from his pocket, drew toward him a memorandum pad lying on the table and wrote a line upon the uppermost sheet. Tearing off the page, he tossed it to Sylvester.
“That’s the name,” he said.
Two more hours passed before the lawyers and their client rose from their seats about the long table. Even then the consultation was not at an end. Sylvester and the Captain lunched together at the Central Club and sat in the smoking room until after four, talking earnestly. When they parted, the attorney was grave and troubled.
“All right, Captain Warren,” he said; “I’ll do it. And you may be right. I certainly hope you are. But I must confess I don’t look forward to my task with pleasure. I think I’ve got the roughest end.”
“It’ll be rough, there’s no doubt about that. Rough for all hands, I guess. And I hope you understand, Mr. Sylvester, that there ain’t many men I’d trust to do what I ask you to. I appreciate your doin’ it more’n I can tell you. Be as—as gentle as you can, won’t you?”
“I will. You can depend upon that.”
“I do. And I sha’n’t forget it. Good-by, till the next time.”
They shook hands. Captain Elisha returned to the boarding house, where he found a letter awaiting him. It was from Caroline, telling him of her engagement to Malcolm Dunn. She wrote that, while not recognizing his right to interfere in any way, she felt that perhaps he should know of her action. He did not go down to supper, and, when Pearson came to inquire the reason, excused himself, pleading a late luncheon and no appetite.He guessed he would turn in early, so he said. It was a poor guess.
Next morning he went uptown. Edwards, opening the door of the Warren apartment, was surprised to find who had rung the bell.
“Mornin’, Commodore!” hailed the captain, as casually as if he were merely returning from a stroll. “Is Miss Caroline aboard ship?”
“Why—why, I don’t know, sir. I’ll see.”
“That’s all right. She’s aboard or you wouldn’t have to see. You and me sailed together quite a spell, so I know your little habits. I’ll wait in the library, Commodore. Tell her there’s no particular hurry.”
His niece was expecting him. She had anticipated his visit and was prepared for it. From the emotion caused by his departure after the eventful birthday, she had entirely recovered, or thought she had. The surprise and shock of his leaving and the consequent sense of loneliness and responsibility overcame her at the time, but Stephen’s ridicule and Mrs. Corcoran Dunn’s congratulations on riddance from the “encumbrance” shamed her and stilled the reproaches of her conscience. Mrs. Dunn, as always, played the diplomat and mingled just the proper quantity of comprehending sympathy with the congratulations.
“I understand exactly how you feel, my dear,” she said. “You have a tender heart, and it pains you to hurt anyone’s feelings, no matter how much they deserve to be hurt. Every time I dismiss an incompetent or dishonest servant I feel that I have done wrong; sometimes I cry, actually shed tears, you know, and yet my reason tells me I am right. You feel that you may have been too harsh with that guardian of yours. You remember what you said to him and forget how hypocriticallyhe behaved toward you. I can’t forgive him that. I may forget how he misrepresented Malcolm and me to you—that I may even pardon, in time—but to deceive his own brother’s children and introduce into their society a creature who had slandered and maligned their father—thatI never shall forget or forgive. And—you’ll excuse my frankness, dear—you should never forget or forgive it, either. You have nothing with which to reproach yourself. You were a brave girl, and if you are not proud of yourself,Iam proud of you.”
So, when her uncle was announced, Caroline was ready. She entered the library and acknowledged his greeting with a distant bow. He regarded her kindly, but his manner was grave.
“Well, Caroline,” he began, “I got your letter.”
“Yes, I presumed you did.”
“Um-hm. I got it. It didn’t surprise me, what you wrote, because I’d seen the news in the papers; but I was hopin’ you’d tell me yourself, and I’m real glad you did. I’m much obliged to you.”
She had not expected him to take this tone, and it embarrassed her.
“I—I gave you my reasons for writing,” she said. “Although I do not consider that I am, in any sense, duty bound to refer matters, other than financial, to you; and, although my feelings toward you have not changed—still, you are my guardian, and—and—”
“I understand. So you’re really engaged?”
“Yes.”
“Engaged to Mr. Dunn?”
“Yes.”
“And you’re cal’latin’ to marry him?”
“One might almost take that for granted,” impatiently.
“Almost—yes. Not always, but generally, I will give in. You’re goin’ to marry Malcolm Dunn. Why?”
“Why?” she repeated the question as if she doubted his sanity.
“Yes. Be as patient with me as you can, Caroline. I ain’t askin’ these things without what seems to me a good reason. Why are you goin’ to marry him?”
“Why because I choose, I suppose.”
“Um-hm. Are you sure of that?”
“Am I sure?” indignantly. “What do you mean?”
“I mean are you sure that it’s because you choose, or becausehedoes, or maybe, because his mother does?”
She turned angrily away. “If you came here to insult me—” she began. He interrupted her.
“No, no,” he protested gently. “Insultin’ you is the last thing I want to do. But, as your father did put you in my charge, I want you to bear with me while we talk this over together. Remember, Caroline, I ain’t bothered you a great deal lately. I shouldn’t now if I hadn’t thought ’twas necessary. So please don’t get mad, but answer me this: Do you care for this man you’ve promised to marry?”
This was a plain question. It should have been answered without the slightest hesitation. Moreover, the girl had expected him to ask it. Yet, for a moment, she did hesitate.
“I mean,” continued Captain Elisha, “do you care for himenough? Enough to live with him all your life, and see him every day, and be to him what a true wife ought to be? See him, not with his company manners on or in his automobile, but at the breakfast table, and when he comes home tired and cross, maybe. When you’ve got to be forbearin’ and forgivin’ and—”
“He is one of my oldest and best friends—” she interrupted.Her uncle went on without waiting for her to end the sentence.
“I know,” he said. “One of the oldest, that’s sure. But friendship, ’cordin’ to my notion, is somethin’ so small in comparison that it hardly counts in the manifest. Married folks ought to be friends, sartin sure; but they ought to be a whole lot more’n that. I’m an old bach, you say, and ain’t had no experience. That’s true; but I’ve been young, and there was a time whenImade plans.... However, she died, and it never come to nothin’. But Iknowwhat it means to be engaged, the right kind of engagement. It means that you don’t count yourself at all, not a bit. You’re ready, each of you, to give up all you’ve got—your wishes, comfort, money and what it’ll buy, and your life, if it should come to that, for that other one. Do you care for Malcolm Dunn like that, Caroline?”
She answered defiantly.
“Yes, I do,” she said.
“You do. Well, do you think he feels the same way about you?”
“Yes,” with not quite the same promptness, but still defiantly.
“You feel sartin of it, do you?”
She stamped her foot. “Yes! yes!yes!” she cried. “Oh,dosay what you came to say, and end it!”
Her uncle rose to his feet.
“Why, I guess likely I’ve said it,” he observed. “When two people care for each other like that, theyoughtto be married, and the sooner the better. I knew that you’d been lonesome and troubled, maybe; and some of the friends you used to have had kind of dropped away—busy with other affairs, which is natural enough—and, you needin’ sympathy and companionship, I wassort of worried for fear all this had influenced you more’n it ought to, and you’d been led into sayin’ yes without realizin’ what it meant. But you tell me that ain’t so; you do realize. So all I can say is that I’m awful glad for you. God bless you, my dear! I hope you’ll be as happy as the day is long.”
His niece gazed at him, bewildered and incredulous. This she hadnotexpected.
“Thank you,” she stammered. “I did not know—I thought—”
“Of course you did—of course. Well, then, Caroline, I guess that’s all. I won’t trouble you any longer. Good-by.”
He turned toward the door, but stopped, hesitated, and turned back again.
“There is just one thing more,” he said solemnly. “I don’t know’s I ought to speak, but—I want to—and I’m goin’ to. And I want you to believe it! I do want you to!”
He was so earnest, and the look he gave her was so strange, that she began to be alarmed.
“What is it?” she demanded.
“Why—why, just this, Caroline. This is a tough old world we live in. Things don’t always go on in it as we think they’d ought to. Trouble comes to everybody, and when it all looks right sometimes it turns out to be all wrong. If—if there should come a time like that to you and Steve, I want you to remember that you’ve got me to turn to. No matter what you think of me, what folks have made you think of me, just remember that I’m waitin’ and ready to help you all I can. Any time I’m ready—and glad. Just remember that, won’t you, because.... Well, there! Good-by, Good-by!”
He hurried away. She stood gazing after him, astonished, a little frightened, and not a little disturbed and touched. His emotion was so evident; his attitude toward her engagement was so different from that which she had anticipated; and there was something in his manner which she could not understand. He had acted as if he pitied her. Why? It could not be because she was to marry Malcolm Dunn. If it were that, she resented his pity, of course. But it could not be that, because he had given her his blessing. What was it? Was there something else; something that she did not know and he did? Why was he so kind and forbearing and patient?
All her old doubts and questionings returned. She had resolutely kept them from her thoughts, but they had been there, in the background, always. When, after the long siege, she had at last yielded and said yes to Malcolm, she felt that that question, at least, was settled. She would marry him. He was one whom she had known all her life, the son of the dearest friend she had; he and his mother had been faithful at the time when she needed friends. As her husband, he would protect her and give her the affection and companionship she craved. He might appear careless and indifferent at times, but that was merely his manner. Had not Mrs. Dunn told her over and over again what a good son he was, and what a kind heart he had, and how he worshiped her? Oh, she ought to be a very happy girl! Of course she was happy. But why had her uncle looked at her as he did? And what did he mean by hinting that when things looked right they sometimes were all wrong? She wished Malcolm was with her then; she needed him.
She heard the clang of the elevator door. Then thebell rang furiously. She heard Edwards hasten to answer it. Then, to her amazement, she heard her brother’s voice.
“Caroline!” demanded Stephen. “Caroline! Where are you?”
He burst into the room, still wearing his coat and hat, and carrying a traveling bag in his hand.
“Why, Steve!” she said, going toward him. “Why, Steve! what—”
He was very much excited.
“Oh!” he exclaimed, “you’re all right then! You are all right, aren’t you?”
“All right? Why shouldn’t I be all right? What do you mean? And why are you here?”
He returned her look of surprise with one of great astonishment.
“Why am I here?” he repeated.
“Yes. Why did you come from New Haven?”
“Why, because I got the telegram, of course! You expected me to come, didn’t you?”
“Iexpected you? Telegram? What telegram?”
“Why, the—Good Lord, Caro! what are you talking about? Didn’t you know they telegraphed me to come home at once? I’ve pretty nearly broke my neck, and the taxicab man’s, getting here from the station. I thought you must be very ill, or something worse.”
“They telegraphed you to come here? Who.... Edwards, you may take Mr. Warren’s things to his room.”
“But, Sis—”
“Just a moment, Steve. Give Edwards your coat and hat. Yes, and your bag. That will be all, Edwards. We sha’n’t need you.”
When they were alone, she turned again to her brother.
“Now, Steve,” she said, “sit down and tell me what you mean. Who telegraphed you?”
“Why, old Sylvester, father’s lawyer. I’ve got the message here somewhere. No, never mind! I’ve lost it, I guess. He wired me to come home as early as possible this morning. Said it was very important. And you didn’t know anything about it?”
“No, not a thing. What can it mean?”
“Idon’t know! That’s the bell, isn’t it? Edwards!”
But the butler was already on his way to the door. A moment later he returned.
“Mr. Sylvester,” he announced.
Captain Elisha scarcely left his room, except for meals, during the remainder of that day and for two days thereafter. He was unusually silent at table and avoided conversation even with Pearson, who was depressed and gloomy and made no attempt to force his society upon his friend. Once, passing the door of the latter’s room, he heard the captain pacing back and forth as if he were walking the quarter-deck of one of his old ships. As Pearson stood listening the footsteps ceased; silence, then a deep sigh, and they began again. The young man sighed in sympathy and wearily climbed to his den. The prospect of chimneys and roofs across the way was never more desolate or more pregnant with discouragement.
Several times Captain Elisha descended to the closet where the telephone was fastened to the wall and held long conversations with someone. Mrs. Hepton, who knew that her newest boarder was anxious and disturbed, and was very curious to learn the reason, made it a point to be busy near that closet while these conversationstook place; but, as the captain was always careful to close the door, she was disappointed. Once the mysterious Mr. Sylvester called up and asked for “Captain Warren,” and the landlady hastened with the summons.
“I hope it’s nothing serious,” she observed, feelingly.
“Yes, ma’am,” replied the captain, on his way to the stairs. “Much obliged.”
“It is the same person who was so very anxious to get you the other night,” she continued, making desperate efforts not to be left behind in the descent. “I declare he quite frightened me! And—you’ll excuse me, Captain Warren, but I take such a real friendly interest in my boarders—you have seemed to me rather—rather upset lately, and Idohope it isn’t bad news.”
“Well, I tell you, ma’am,” was the unsatisfactory answer, given just before the closet door closed; “we’ll do the way the poor relation did when he got word his uncle had willed him one of his suits of clothes—we’ll hope for the best.”
Sylvester had a report to make.
“The other party has been here,” he said. “He has just gone.”
“The other party? Why—you don’t mean—him?”
“Yes.”
“Was he alone? Nobody along to look after him?”
“He was alone, for a wonder. He had heard the news, too. Apparently had just learned it.”
“He had? I want to know! Who told him?”
“He didn’t say. He was very much agitated. Wouldn’t say anything except to ask if it was true. I think we can guess who told him.”
“Maybe. Well, what did you say?”
“Nothing of importance. I refused to discuss my clients’ affairs.”
“Right you are! How did he take that?”
“He went up like a sky-rocket. Said he had a right to know, under the circumstances. I admitted it, but said I could tell him nothing—yet. He went away frantic, and I called you.”
“Um-hm. Well, Mr. Sylvester, suppose you do see him and his boss. See ’em and tell ’em some of the truth. Don’t tell too much though; not who was to blame nor how, but just that it looks pretty bad so fur as the estate’s concerned. Then say you want to see ’em again and will arrange another interview. Don’t set any time and place for that until you hear from me. Understand?”
“I think so, partially. But—”
“Until you hear from me—that’s the important part. And, if you can, convenient, I’d have the fust interview right off; this afternoon, if it’s possible.”
“Captain, what have you got up your sleeve? Why don’t you come down here and talk it over?”
“’Cause I’m stickin’ close aboard and waitin’ developments. Maybe there won’t be any, but I’m goin’ to wait a spell and see. There ain’t much up my sleeve just now but goose-flesh; there’s plenty of that. So long.”
A development came that evening. Mrs. Hepton heralded it.
“Captain,” she said, when he answered her knock, “there’s a young gentleman to see you. I think he must be a relative of yours. His name is Warren.”
Captain Elisha pulled his beard. “A younggentleman?” he repeated.
“Yes. I showed him into the parlor. There will be no one there but you and he, and I thought it would be more comfortable.”
“Um-hm. I see. Well, I guess you’d better send himup. This is comfortable enough, and there won’t be nobody but him and me here, either—and I’ll be more sartin of it.”
The landlady, who considered herself snubbed, flounced away. Captain Elisha stepped to the head of the stairs.
“Come right up, Steve!” he called.
Stephen came. His uncle ushered him into the room, closed the door, and turned the key.
“Stevie,” he said, kindly, “I’m glad to see you. Take off your things and set down.”
The boy accepted the invitation only to the extent of throwing his hat on the table. He did not sit or remove his overcoat. He was pale, his eyes were swollen and red, his hair was disarranged, and in all respects he looked unlike his usual blasé and immaculate self. His forehead was wet, showing that he had hurried on his way to the boarding house.
The captain regarded him pityingly.
“Set down, Stevie,” he urged. “You’re all het up and worn out.”
His nephew paid no attention. Instead he asked a question.
“You know about it?” he demanded.
“Yes, Stevie; I know.”
“You do? I—I mean about the—the Akrae Company and—and all?”
“Yes. I know all about all of it. Do set down!”
Stephen struck his closed fist into the palm of his other hand. He wore one glove. What had become of the other he could not have told.
“You do?” he shouted. “You do? By gad! Then do you know what it means?”
“Yes, I know that, too. Now, Stevie, be a good boy and set down and keep cool. Yes, I want you to.”
He put his hands on his nephew’s shoulders and forced him into a chair.
“Now, just calm yourself,” urged the captain. “There ain’t a mite of use workin’ yourself up this way. I know the whole business, and I can’t tell you—I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I feel for you. Yet you mustn’t give up the ship because—”
“Mustn’t give up!” Stephen was on his feet again. “Why, what are you talking about? I thought you said you knew! Do you think that losing every cent you’ve got in the world is ajoke? Do you think that—See here, do you know who this shareholder is; this fellow who’s going to rob us of all we own? Who is he?”
“Didn’t Mr. Sylvester tell you?”
“He said that there was such a man and that he had the estate cinched. He told us about that note and all the rest. But he wouldn’t tell the man’s name. Said he had been forbidden to mention it. Do you know him? What sort of fellow is he? Don’t you think he could be reasoned with? Hasn’t he got any decency—or pity—or—”
He choked, and the tears rushed to his eyes. He wiped them angrily away with the back of his glove.
“It’s a crime!” he cried. “Can’t he be held off somehow? Whoishe? I want to know his name.”
Captain Elisha sadly shook his head. “I’m afraid he can’t, Stevie,” he said. “He’s got a legal right to all ’Bije left, and more, too. It may be he won’t be too hard; perhaps he’ll ... but there,” hastily. “I mustn’t say that. We’ve got to face the situation as ’tis. And I can’t tell you his name because he don’t want it mentioned unless it’s absolutely necessary. And we don’t, either. We don’t want—any of us—to have this get into the papers. We mustn’t have any disgrace.”
“Disgrace! Good heavens! Isn’t there disgrace enough already? Isn’t it enough to know father was a crook as well as an idiot? I’ve always thought he was insane ever since that crazy will of his came to light; but to steal! and then to leave a paper proving it, so that we’ve got to lose everything! His children! It’s—”
“Now hold on, boy! Your dad didn’t mean to take what didn’t belong to him—for good, that is; the note proves that. He did do wrong and used another man’s money, but—”
“Then why didn’t he keep it? If you’re going to steal, steal like a man, I say!”
“Steve, Steve! steady now!” The captain’s tone was sterner. “Don’t speak that way. You’ll be sorry for it later. I tell you I don’t condemn your father ha’f so much as I pity him.”
“Oh, shut up! You make me sick. You talk just as Caro does. I’ll never forgive him, no matter how much she preaches, and I told her so. Pity! Pity him! How about pity forme? I—I—”
His overwrought nerves gave way, and, throwing himself into the chair, he broke down completely and, forgetting the manhood of which he was so fond of boasting, cried like a baby. Captain Elisha turned away, to hide his own emotion.
“It’s hard,” he said slowly. “It’s awfully hard for you, my boy. I hate to see you suffer this way.” Then, in a lower tone, he added doubtfully. “I wonder if—if—I wonder—”
His nephew heard the word and interrupted.
“You wonder?” he demanded, hysterically; “you wonder what? What are you going to do about it? It’s up to you, isn’t it? You’re our guardian, aren’t you?”
“Yes, Stevie, I’m your guardian.”
“Yes, you are! But no one would guess it. When we didn’t want you, you wouldn’t leave us for a minute. Now, when we need you, when there isn’t a soul for us to turn to, you stay away. You haven’t been near us. It’s up to you, I say! and what are you going to do about it? What are you going todo?”
His uncle held up his hand.
“S-shh!” he said. “Don’t raise your voice like that, son! I can hear you without that, and we don’t want anybody else to hear. What am I goin’ to do? Stevie, I don’t know exactly. I ain’t made up my mind yet.”
“Well, it’s time you did!”
“Yes, I guess likely ’tis. As for my not comin’ to see you, you know the reason for that. I’d have come quick enough, but I wa’n’t sure I’d be welcome. And I told your sister only ’tother day that—by the way, Steve, how is she? How is Caroline?”
“She’s a fool!” The boy sprang up again and shook his fist. “She’s the one I’ve come here to speak about. If we don’t stop her she’ll ruin us altogether. She—she’s a damned fool, I tell you!”
“There! there!” the captain’s tone was sharp and emphatic. “That’s enough of that,” he said. “I don’t want to hear you call your sister names. What do you mean by it?”
“I mean what I say. Sheisa fool. Do you know what she’s done? She’s written Mal Dunn all about it! I’d have stopped her, but I didn’t know until it was too late. She’s told him the whole thing.”
“She has? About ’Bije?”
“Well, perhaps she didn’t tell him father was a thief, but she did tell that the estate was gone—that we were flat broke and worse.”
“Hum!” Captain Elisha seemed more gratified thandispleased. “Hum!... Well, I kind of expected she would. Knowin’ her, I kind of expected it.”
“You did?” Stephen glared in wrathful amazement. “You expected it?”
“Yes. What of it?”
“Whatofit? Why, everything! Can’t you see? Mal’s our only chance. If she marries him she’ll be looked out for and so will I. She needn’t have told him until they were married. The wedding could have been hurried along; the Dunns were crazy to have it as soon as possible. Now—”
“Hold on, Steve! Belay! What difference does her tellin’ him make? Maybe she hasn’t mentioned it to you, but I had a talk with your sister the other mornin’. She thinks the world of Malcolm, and he does of her. She told me so herself. Ofcourseshe’d go to him in her trouble. And he’ll be proud—yes, and glad to know that he can help her. As for the weddin’, I don’t see that this’ll have any effect except to hurry it up a little more, maybe.”
Steve looked at him suspiciously, but there was no trace of sarcasm in the captain’s face or voice. The boy scowled.
“Ugh!” he grunted.
“What’s the ‘ugh’ for? See here, you ain’t hintin’ that young Dunn was cal’latin’ to marry Caroline just for her money, are you? Of course you ain’t! Why, you and he are the thickest sort of chums. You wouldn’t chum with a feller who would play such a trick as that on your own sister.”
Stephen’s scowl deepened. He thrust his hands into his pocket, and shifted his feet uneasily.
“You don’t understand,” he said. “People don’t do things here as they do where you come from.”
“I understand that, all right,” with dry emphasis. “I’ve been here long enough to understand that. But maybe I don’t understandyou. Heave ahead, and make it plain.”
“Well—well, then—I mean this: I don’t know that Mal was after Caro’s money, but—but he had a right to expectsome. If he didn’t, why, then her not telling him until after they were married wouldn’t have made any difference. And—and if her tellin’ him beforehandshouldmake a difference and he wanted to break the engagement, she’s just romantic fool enough to let him.”
“Well?”
“Well?If she doesn’t marry him, who’s going to take care of her? What’s going to become ofme? We haven’t a cent. What kind of a guardian are you? Do you want us to starve?”
He was shouting again. The captain was calm. “Oh,” he said, “I guess it won’t reach to the starvation point. I’m a pretty tough old critter, ’cordin’ to your estimate, but I shouldn’t let my brother’s children starve. If the wust comes to the wust, there’s always a home and plenty to eat for you both at South Denboro.”
This offer did not appear to comfort the young gentleman greatly. His disgust was evident.
“South Denboro!” he repeated, scornfully. “Gad!... South Denboro!”
“Yup. But we’ll let South Denboro alone for now and stick to New York. What is it you expect me to do? What are you drivin’ at?”
Stephen shook a forefinger in his guardian’s face.
“I expect you to make her stick to her engagement,” he cried. “And make her make him stick. She can, can’t she? It’s been announced, hasn’t it? Everybodyknows of it! She’s got the right—the legal right to hold him, hasn’t she?”
His uncle regarded him with a quizzical smile. “Why, ye-es,” he answered, “I cal’late she has, maybe. Course, there’s no danger of his wantin’ to do such a thing, but if he should I presume likely we could make it uncomfortable for him, anyhow. What are you hankerin’ for, Steve—a breach-of-promise suit? I’ve always understood those sort of cases were kind of unpleasant—for everybody but the newspapers.”
The boy was in deadly earnest. “Pleasant!” he repeated. “Is any of this business pleasant? You make her act like a sensible girl! You’re her guardian, and you make her! And, after that, if he tries to hedge, you tell him a few things. You can hold him! Do it!Doit!”
Captain Elisha turned on his heel and began pacing up and down the room. His nephew watched him eagerly.
“Well,” he demanded, after a moment, “what are we going to do? Are we going to make him make good?”
The captain paused. “Steve,” he answered, deliberately, “I ain’t sure as we are. And, as I’ve said, if he’s got a spark of decency, it won’t be necessary for us to try. If it should be—if it should be—”
“Well,ifit should be?”
“Then we can try, that’s all. Maybe you run a course a little different from me, Stevie; you navigate ’cordin’ to your ideas, and I do by mine. But in some ways we ain’t so fur apart. Son,” with a grim nod, “you rest easy on one thing—the Corcoran Dunn fleet is goin’ to show its colors.”