In Her Own Right Part 36

He was a fool! a fool! to think of her, to dream of the past, even. But it is pleasant, sometimes, to be a fool--where a beautiful woman is concerned, and only one's self to pay the piper.

XIV

THE SYMPHONY IN BLUE

Macloud arrived the next day, bringing for his host a great batch of mail, which had acc.u.mulated at the Club.

"I thought of it at the last moment--when I was starting for the station, in fact," he remarked. "The clerk said he had no instructions for forwarding, so I just poked it in my bag and brought it along.

Stupid of me not to think of it sooner. Why didn't you mention it? I can understand why you didn't leave an address, but not why I shouldn't forward it."

"I didn't care, when I left--and I don't care much, now--but I'm obliged, just the same!" said Croyden. "It's something to do; the most exciting incident of the day, down here, is the arrival of the mail.

The people wait for it, with bated breath. I am getting in the way, too, though I don't get much.... I never did have any extensive correspondence, even in Northumberland--so this is just circulars and such trash."

He took the package, which Macloud handed him, and tossed it on the desk.

"What's new?" he asked.

"In Northumberland? Nothing--beyond the usual thing. Everybody is back--everybody is hard up or says he is--everybody is full of lies, as usual, and is turning them loose on anyone who will listen, credulous or sophisticated, it makes no difference. It's the telling, not the believing that's the thing. Oh! the little cad Mattison is engaged--Charlotte Brundage has landed him, and the wedding is set for early next month."

"I don't envy her the job," Croyden remarked.

"It won't bother her!" Macloud laughed. "She'll be privileged to draw on his bank account, and that's the all important thing with her. He will fracture the seventh commandment, and she won't turn a hair. She is a chilly proposition, all right."

"Well, I wish her joy of her bargain," said Croyden. "May she have everything she wants, and see Mattison not at all, after the wedding journey--and but very occasionally, then."

He took up the letters and ran carelessly through them.

"Trash! Trash! Trash!" he commented, as he consigned them, one by one, to the waste-basket.

Macloud watched him, languidly, behind his cigar smoke, and made no comment.

Presently Croyden came to a large, white envelope--darkened on the interior so as to prevent the contents from being read until opened. It bore the name of a firm of prominent brokers in Northumberland.

"Humph! Blaxham & Company!" he grunted. "'We own and offer, subject to prior sale, the following high grade investment bonds.' Oh yes! I'll take the whole bundle." He drew out the letter and looked at it, perfunctorily, before sending it to rest with its fellows.--It wasn't in the usual form.--He opened it, wider.--It was signed by the senior partner.

"My dear Mr. Croyden:

"We have a customer who is interested in the Virginia Development Company. He has purchased the Bonds and the stock of Royster & Axtell, from the bank which held them as collateral. He is willing to pay you par for your Bonds, without any accrued interest, however. If you will consent to sell, the Company can proceed without reorganization but, if you decline, he will foreclose under the terms of the mortgage. We have suggested the propriety and the economy to him--since he owns or controls all the stock--of not purchasing your bonds, and, frankly, have told him it is worse than bad business to do so. But he refuses to be advised, insisting that he must be the sole owner, and that he is willing to submit to the additional expense rather than go through the tedious proceeding for foreclosure and sale. We are prepared to honor a sight-draft with the Bonds attached, or to pay cash on presentation and transfer. We shall be obliged for a prompt reply.

"Yours very truly,

"R. J. Blaxham."

"What the devil!----"

He read it a second time. No, he wasn't asleep--it was all there, typewritten and duly signed. Two hundred thousand dollars!--honor sight draft, or pay cash on presentation and transfer!

"What the devil!" he said, again. Then he pa.s.sed it across to Macloud.

"Read this aloud, will you,--I want to see if I'm quite sane!"

Macloud was at his favorite occupation--blowing smoke rings through one another, and watching them spiral upward toward the ceiling.

"I beg your pardon!" he said, as Croyden's words roused him from his meditation. "I must have been half asleep. What did you say--read it?"

taking the letter.

He and Blaxham had spent considerable time on that letter, trying to explain the reason for the purchase, and the foolishly high price they were offering, in such a way as to mislead Croyden.

"Yes,--aloud! I want to hear someone else read it."

Macloud looked at him, curiously.

"It is typewritten, you haven't a chance to get wrong!" he said, wonderingly.

Croyden laughed!

"Read it, please!" he exclaimed.... "So, I wasn't crazy: and either Blaxham is lying or his customer needs a guardian--which is it?"

"I don't see that it need concern you, in the least, which it is," said Macloud. "Be grateful for the offer--and accept by wireless or any other way that's quicker."

"But the bonds aren't worth five cents on the dollar!"

"So much the more reason to hustle the deal through. Sell them! man, sell them! You may have slipped up on the Parmenter treasure, but you have struck it here."

"Too rich," Croyden answered. "There's something queer about that letter."

Macloud smoked his cigar, and smiled.

"There's nothing queer about the letter!"--he said. "Blaxham's customer may have the w.i.l.l.i.e.s--indeed, he as much as intimates that such is the case--but, thank G.o.d! we're not obliged to have a commission-in-lunacy appointed on everybody who makes a silly stock or bond purchase. If we were, we either would have no markets, or the courts would have time for nothing else. No! no! old man! take what the G.o.ds have given you and be glad. There's ten thousand a year in it! You can return to Northumberland, resume the old life, and be happy ever after;--or you can live here, and there, and everywhere. You're unattached--not even a light-o'-love to squander your money, and pester you for gowns and hats, and get in a h.e.l.l of a temper--and be false to you, besides."

"No, I haven't one of them, thank G.o.d!" laughed Croyden. "I've got troubles enough of my own. The present, for instance."

"Troubles!" marvelled Macloud. "You haven't any troubles, now. This clears them all away."

"It clears some of them away--if I take it."

"Thunder! man, you're not thinking, seriously, of refusing?"

"It will put me on 'easy street,'" Croyden observed.

"So, why hesitate an instant?"

"And it comes with remarkable timeliness--so timely, indeed, as to be suspicious."

"Suspicious? Why suspicious? It's a bona fide offer."