The Bachelors Part 48

Whither their gibes would have carried them is needless to consider, for they were interrupted by the approach of a motor-car up the driveway.

"Monty has made a quick trip," Cosden observed, "now you can satisfy your curiosity."

"On the contrary," Edith retorted rising, "the plot thickens. That is Harry Thatcher. What in the world has happened to send him motoring down here at ten o'clock in the morning?"

They pa.s.sed through the hallway to the _porte cochere_ on the opposite side of the house. Thatcher was just descending from the car.

"h.e.l.lo!" he greeted Edith, who was ahead. "Where's Marian?"

"Up-stairs. What brings you home at this time of day?"

"Don't disturb her yet," he exclaimed, disregarding her question. "I want a word with Cosden first. You'll excuse us?"

Locking his arm through Cosden's Thatcher led him back onto the piazza which the two had just left.

"What's wrong?" Cosden asked. "Market gone to pieces?"

"It's h.e.l.l,--nothing less," Thatcher answered, speaking with an excitement unnatural to him. "I left New York at four o'clock this morning. I've come to you, Cosden, as a last resort. We've fought each other on every deal we've ever been in, so you understand how hard I'm pushed. If you're fixed so that you can put me next to a bunch of cold, hard cash, you can have anything I control at a fraction of its value.

This is your chance to make your everlasting fortune if you can command the cash."

"You don't mean it!" Cosden exclaimed. "Are you caught as bad as that?"

"Worse than that. Securities are dropping out of sight. Germany will declare war inside of a week, and there is danger of other big nations becoming involved. If they do, G.o.d only knows what will happen to the money system of the world; it is strained already to the breaking-point.

You may thank Heaven, Cosden, that your investments are not in speculative stocks! But we're losing time. I must get back by three o'clock. Is there any chance of pulling off my forlorn hope? If not, we'll close our doors to-morrow."

"Do you actually mean that, Thatcher?"

"Exactly that. I don't advise you to do this unless you're fixed so that you can carry things comfortably, for I tell you we're in for a crisis; but if you can, it's the opportunity of a lifetime, and by sacrificing my personal interests I can save my house."

"How much do you need?"

"Half a million, in cash. I'm that much short of what I must have to see me through. It might as well be a billion!"

"What do you offer for it?"

"Five million in Consolidated Machinery stock."

Cosden whistled and then became contemplative, while Thatcher waited eagerly for his reply. The hesitation in itself was encouraging, for it indicated that Cosden could raise the money if he cared to do it.

"As a matter of fact, Thatcher," Cosden said at length, "I've been laying my pipes for just this moment ever since the trouble began, and I'm fixed where I can handle it all right; but I don't quite like the proposition as it stands."

"Then make your own proposition."

"I've counted on having my available cash earn me something handsome, of course; but I don't think I'd enjoy my profits much if I got them by cleaning you out."

"We must forget friendship and all else at a time like this," Thatcher cried. "For G.o.d's sake, man, if you can do it, don't stand on any foolish sentiment! It may ruin me, but my house will weather the storm.

I ask it as a favor."

"How soon must you have the money?"

"By to-morrow."

"All right; I'll give you drafts to take back to New York."

"Thank G.o.d!" Thatcher exclaimed feverishly. "And you'll take the stock?"

"No, I don't want the stock. Give me your note."

"But I haven't a dollar's worth of collateral to put up with it.

Everything I own is pledged."

"d.a.m.n the collateral! The signature will be genuine, won't it? That's good enough for me."

"You advance it simply as a loan?"

"Of course. Now let's get the drafts fixed up, and you run back to New York and keep your finger on the pulse of the market."

"You're sacrificing the chance of your life, Cosden," Thatcher exclaimed. "Why should you do this for me?"

"I don't quite understand it myself," Cosden admitted; "but as long as I want to why not make the most of it? I might change my mind."

"And we've always said you were a hard man, Cosden!" Thatcher exclaimed with grat.i.tude in his voice.

"I was once," he admitted; "but lately I've been getting humanized, and anybody can slip anything over on me. Now you trot back to New York and cable Willie Kaiser that I disapprove of his declaring war."

"You are a friend in need!" Thatcher grasped his hand cordially. "I'll run up for a word with Marian, and then back into the vortex. Keep your eye on the cable news, Cosden. h.e.l.l is breaking loose!"

As Thatcher rushed up-stairs Cosden relit his cigar which had gone out during the excitement, shoved his hands into his pockets, and walked meditatively up and down the piazza. He was immensely pleased with himself, and felt ent.i.tled to his self-approval.

"Even old Monty couldn't have done that better," he muttered. "Good old Thatcher--I hope it pulls him through!"

"What's the matter with Harry?" Edith demanded in a stage whisper, appearing from nowhere.

"He forgot his umbrella yesterday," Cosden lied, speciously, "and he's afraid it's going to rain."

"Oh, you tantalizing brute!" she cried, stamping her foot indignantly.

"I wouldn't marry you if you were the last man in the world!"

x.x.xV