The Moneychangers Part 36

"Imagine it!" gasped Bates.

"And wait!" exclaimed the other; "then they got on to politics. I would have given one arm if I could have got a photograph of Dan Waterman at that moment--just to spread it before the American people and ask them what they thought of it! David Ward had made the remark that 'A little trouble mightn't have a bad effect just now.'

And Waterman brought down his fist on the table. 'This country needs a lesson,' he cried. 'There's been too much abuse of responsible men, and there's been too much wild talk in high places. If the people get a little taste of hard times, they'll have something else to think about besides abusing those who have made the prosperity of the country; and it seems to me, gentlemen, that we have it in our power to put an end to this campaign of radicalism.'"

"Think of it, think of it!" gasped Bates. "The old devil!"

"And then Duval chimed in, with a laugh, 'To put it in a nutsh.e.l.l, gentlemen, we are going to smash Ryder and scare the President!'"

"Was the conference over?" asked Bates, after a moment's pause.

"All but the hand-shakes," said the other. "I didn't dare to stay while they were moving about."

And Bates started suddenly to his feet. "Come!" he said. "We haven't any time to waste. Our work isn't done yet, by a long sight."

He proceeded to untie the rope and coil it up. Rodney took the blanket and put it on the bed, covering it with the spread, so as to conceal the holes which had been worn by the rope. He wound up the ball of cord, and dropped it into the bag with the rest of the stuff. Bates took his hat and coat and started for the door.

"You will excuse us, Mr. Montague," he said. "You can understand that this story will need a lot of work."

"I understand," said Montague.

"We'll try to thank you by and by," added the other. "Come around after the paper goes to press, and we'll have a celebration."

CHAPTER XX

They went out; and Montague waited a minute or two, to give them a chance to get out of the way, and then he rang the elevator bell and entered the car.

It stopped again at the next floor, and he gave a start of excitement. As the door opened, he saw a group of men, with Duval, Ward, and General Prentice among them. He moved behind the elevator man, so that none of them should notice him.

Montague had caught one glimpse of the face of General Prentice. It was deathly pale. The General said not a word to anyone, but went out into the corridor. The other hesitated for a moment, then, with a sudden resolution, he turned and followed. As his friend pa.s.sed out of the door, he stepped up beside him.

"Good evening, General," he said. The General turned and stared at him, half in a daze.

"Oh, Montague!" he said. "How are you?"

"Very well," said Montague.

In the street outside, among a group of half a dozen automobiles, he recognised the General's limousine car.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"Home," was the reply.

"I'll ride with you, if you like," said Montague. "I've something to say to you."

"All right," said the General. He could not very well have refused, for Montague had taken him by the arm and started toward the car; he did not intend to be put off.

He helped the General in, got in himself, and shut to the door behind him. Prentice sat staring in front of him, still half in a daze.

Montague watched him for a minute or so. Then suddenly he leaned toward him, and said, "General, why do you let them persuade you to do it?"

"Hey?" said the other.

"I say," repeated Montague, "why do you let them persuade you?"

The other turned and stared at him, with a startled look in his eyes.

"I know all about what has happened," said Montague. "I know what went on at that conference."

"What do you mean?" gasped the General.

"I know what they made you promise to do. They are going to wreck the Gotham Trust Company."

The General was dumfounded. "Why!" he gasped. "How? Who told you?

How could you--"

Montague had to wait a minute or two until his friend had got over his dismay.

"I cannot help it," he burst out, finally. "What can I do?"

"You can refuse to play their game!" exclaimed Montague.

"But don't you suppose that they would do it just the same? And how long do you suppose that I would last, if I refused them?"

"But think of what it means!" cried Montague. "Think of the ruin!

You will bring everything about your head."

"I know, I know!" cried the General, in a voice of anguish. "Don't think that I haven't realised it--don't think that I haven't fought against it! But I am helpless, utterly helpless."

He turned upon Montague, and caught his sleeve with a trembling hand. "I never thought that I would live to face such an hour," he exclaimed. "To despise myself--to be despised by all the world! To be browbeaten, and insulted, and dragged about--"

The old man paused, choking with excess of emotion. "Look at me!" he cried, with sudden vehemence. "Look at me! You think that I am a man, a person of influence in the community, the head of a great inst.i.tution in which thousands of people have faith. But I am nothing of the kind. I am a puppet--I am a sham--I am a disgrace to myself and to the name I bear!"

And suddenly he clasped his hands over his face, and bowed his head, so that Montague should not see his grief.

There was a long silence. Montague was dumb with horror. He felt that his mere presence was an outrage.

Finally the General looked up again. He clenched his hand, and mastered himself.

"I have chosen my part," he said. "I must play it through. What I feel about it makes no difference."

Montague again said nothing.

"I have no right to inflict my grief upon you," the General continued. "I have no right to try to excuse myself. There is no turning back now. I am Dan Waterman's man, and I do his bidding."