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"I have five hundred shares of the stock myself," he said, "but it has been in my family for a long time, and I am perfectly satisfied to let it stay there. I am not making this proposition on my own account, but for a client who has a block of five thousand shares. I have here the annual reports of the road for several years, and some other information about its condition. My idea was that you might care to take the road, and make the proposed extension to the works of the Mississippi Steel Company."
"Mississippi Steel!" exclaimed Hegan. He had evidently heard of that.
"How long ago did you say it was that this plan was looked into?" he asked. And Montague told him the story of the survey, and what he himself had heard about it.
"That sounds curious," said Hegan, and bent his brows, evidently in deep thought. "I will look into the matter," he said, finally. "I have no plans of my own that would take me into that neighbourhood, but it may be possible that I can think of someone who would be interested. Have you any idea what your client wants for the thousand shares?"
"My client has put the matter into my hands," he answered. "The matter was only broached to me this morning, and I shall have to look further into the condition of the road. I should advise her to accept a fair offer--say seventy-five per cent of the par value of the stock."
"We can talk about that later," said Hegan, "if I can find the man for you." And Montague shook hands with him and left.
He stopped in on his way home in the evening to tell Lucy about the result of his interview. "We shall hear from him soon," he said. "I don't imagine that Hegan is a man who takes long to make up his mind."
"My prayers will be with him," said Lucy, with a laugh. Then she added, "I suppose I shall see you Friday night at Mr. Harvey's."
"I shan't come out until Sat.u.r.day afternoon," said he. "I am very busy these days, working on a case. But I try to find time to get down to Siegfried Harvey's; I seem to get along with him."
"They tell me he goes in for horses," said Lucy.
"He has a splendid stable," he answered.
"It was good of Ollie to bring him round," said she. "I have certainly jumped into the midst of things. What do you think I'm going to do to-morrow?"
"I have no idea," he said.
"I have been invited to see Mr. Waterman's art gallery."
"Dan Waterman's!" he exclaimed. "How did that happen?"
"Mrs. Alden's brother asked me. He knows him, and got me the invitation. Wouldn't you like to go?"
"I shall be busy in court all day to-morrow," said Montague. "But I'd like to see the collection. I understand it's a wonderful affair,--the old man has spent all his spare time at it. You hear fabulous estimates of what it's cost him--four or five millions at the least."
"But why in the world does he hide it in a studio way up the Hudson?" cried Lucy.
The other shrugged his shoulders. "Just a whim," he said. "He didn't collect it for other people's pleasure."
"Well, so long as he lets me see it, I can't complain," said Lucy.
"There are so many things to see in this city, I am sure I shall be busy for a year."
"You will get tired before you have seen half of them," he answered.
"Everybody does."
"Do you know Mr. Waterman?" she asked.
"I have never met him," he said. "I have seen him a couple of times." And Montague went on to tell her of the occasion in the Millonaires' Club, when he had seen the Croesus of Wall Street surrounded by an attending throng of "little millionaires."
"I hope I shan't meet him," said Lucy. "I know I should be frightened to death."
"They say he can be charming when he wants to," replied Montague.
"The ladies are fond of him."
On Sat.u.r.day afternoon, when Montague went down to Harvey's Long Island home, his brother met him at the ferry.
"Allan," he began, immediately, "did you know that Lucy had come down here with Stanley Ryder?"
"Heavens, no!" exclaimed Montague. "Is Ryder down here?"
"He got Harvey to invite him," Oliver replied. "And I know it was for no reason in the world but to be with Lucy. He took her out in his automobile."
Montague was dumfounded.
"She never hinted it to me," he said.
"By G.o.d!" exclaimed Oliver, "I wonder if that fellow is going after Lucy!"
Montague stood for some time, lost in sombre thought. "I don't think it will do him much good," he said. "Lucy knows too much."
"Lucy has never met a man like Stanley Ryder!" declared the other.
"He has spent all his life hunting women, and she is no match for him at all."
"What do you know about him?" asked Montague.
"What don't I know about him!" exclaimed the other. "He was in love with Betty Wyman once."
"Oh, my Lord!" exclaimed Montague.
"Yes," said Oliver, "and she told me all about it. He has as many tricks as a conjurer. He has read a lot of New Thought stuff, and he talks about his yearning soul, and every woman he meets is his affinity. And then again, he is a free thinker, and he discourses about liberty and the rights of women. He takes all the moralities and shuffles them up, until you'd think the n.o.blest role a woman could play is that of a married man's mistress."
Montague could not forbear to smile. "I have known you to shuffle the moralities now and then yourself, Ollie," he said.
"Yes, that's all right," replied the other. "But this is Lucy. And somebody's got to talk to her about Stanley Ryder."
"I will do it," Montague answered.
He found Lucy in a cosy corner of the library when he came down to dinner. She was full of all the wonderful things that she had seen in Dan Waterman's art gallery. "And Allan," she exclaimed, "what do you think, I met him!"
"You don't mean it!" said he.
"He was there the whole afternoon!" declared Lucy. "And he never did a thing but be nice to me!"
"Then you didn't find him so terrible as you expected," said Montague.
"He was perfectly charming," said Lucy. "He showed me his whole collection and told me the history of the different paintings, and stories about how he got them. I never had such an experience in my life."
"He can be an interesting man when he chooses," Montague responded.
"He is marvellous!" said she. "You look at that lean figure, and the wizened-up old hawk's face, with the white hair all round it, and you'd think that he was in his dotage. But when he talks--I don't wonder men obey him!"