The Silver Horde Part 34

CHAPTER XV

THE DOORS OF THE VAULT SWING SHUT

"I say, old man, just how do we stack up?" questioned Alton Clyde, when, later in the week, he had succeeded in pinning Boyd down for a moment's conversation. "Blessed if I know what's going on."

"Well, we're up against it."

"How?"

"That newspaper story started it." Emerson's teeth snapped angrily, and Clyde's colorless eyes shifted. "Fraser let his tongue wag, and immediately the banks closed up on me. I've tried every one in this city, in Tacoma, in Vancouver, and in Victoria, but it seems that they have all been advised of war in the canning business. Our ship was taken away from us, and although I have found another, I'm afraid to charter it until I see my way out. Then there have been delays in various shipments--boilers, tin, lumber, and all that. I haven't worried you with half the details; but George and I have forgotten what a night's rest looks like. Now Bloc & Company are trying to get out of their contract to take our output."

Emerson sighed heavily and sank deeper into his chair, his weariness of mind and body betrayed by his utter relaxation. "I guess we are done for.

I'm about all in."

"Glory be!" exclaimed the dapper little club-man, with a comical furrow of care upon his brow. "When you give up, it is quitting time."

"I haven't given up; I am doing all I can, but things are in a diabolical tangle. Some of our supplies are here; others are laid out on the road; some seem to be utterly lost. We have had to make subst.i.tutions of machinery, our bills are overdue, and--but what's the use! We need money.

That's the crux of the whole affair. When Hilliard balked, he threw the whole proposition."

"And I'm stung for ten thou," reflected Clyde, lugubriously. "Ten thousand drops of my heart's red blood! Good Lord! I'm a fierce business man. Say!

I ought to be the purchasing agent for the Farmers' Alliance; gold bricks are my specialty. I haven't won a bet since the battle of Bull Run."

"What about the twenty-five thousand dollars that you raised?" Emerson asked.

Clyde began to laugh, shrilly. "That's painfully funny. I hadn't thought about that."

"The situation may be remarkable, but I don't see anything humorous in it," said Emerson, dryly.

"Oh, you would if you only knew, but I can't tell you what it is. You see, I promised not to divulge where the money came from, and when I give my word I'm a regular Sphinx. But it's funny." After an instant he said, in all seriousness: "If Hilliard holds the combination to this thing, why don't you have Cherry help us?"

"Cherry! How can she help?"

"She can do anything she wants with him."

"What do you mean?"

"I may be a heavy autumn frost as a financier," the younger man remarked, "but when it comes to women I'm as wise as a wharf rat. I've been watching her work, and it's great; people have begun to talk about it. Every night it's a dinner and a theatre party. Every day, orchids and other extortionate bouquets, with jewel-boxes tied on with blue ribbons. His motor is at her disposal at all times, and she treats his chauffeur with open contempt. If that doesn't signify--"

"Nonsense!" exclaimed the other with disgust. "She is too nice a girl for that. You have misconstrued Hilliard's politeness."

Finding his worldly wisdom at issue, Clyde defended himself stoutly. "I tell you, he has gone off his blooming balance; I know the symptoms; leave it to old Doctor Clyde."

"You say other people have noticed it?"

"I do! Everybody in town except you and the news-dealer at the corner-- he's blind."

Emerson rose from his chair, and began to pace about slowly. "If Hilliard has turned that girl's head with his attentions, I'll--"

Clyde threw back his head and laughed in open derision. "Don't worry about her--he is the one to be pitied. She's taking him on a Seeing-Seattle trip of the most approved and expensive character."

"She isn't that kind," Emerson hotly denied.

"Now don't be a boy until your beard trips you up. That girl is about to break into old Hilliard's vault, and while she's in there, with the gas lighted and a suit case to lug off the bank-notes, why not tell her to toss in a few bundles for us?"

"If I can't get along without taking money from a woman, I'll throw up the whole deal."

The curious look which Boyd had noted once before came into Clyde's eyes, and this time, to judge by the young fellow's manner, he might have translated it into words but for the entrance at that moment of Cherry herself, accompanied by "Fingerless" Fraser.

"What luck in Vancouver?" she inquired,

"None whatever. The banks won't listen to me and I can't interest any private parties."

"See here," volunteered Fraser, "why don't you let me sell some of your stock? I'm there with the big talk."

Emerson turned on him suddenly. "You have demonstrated that. If you had kept your mouth shut we'd have been at sea by now."

The fellow's face paled slightly as he replied: "I told you once that I didn't tip your mit."

"Don't keep that up!" cried Boyd, his much-tried temper ready to give way.

"I can put up with anything but a lie."

Noting the signs of a rising storm, Clyde scrambled out of his chair, saying: "Well, I think I'll be going." He picked up his hat and stick, and hurriedly left the room, followed in every movement by the angry eyes of Fraser, who seemed on the point of an explosion.

"I don't believe Fraser gave out the story," said Cherry, at which he flashed her a grateful glance.

"You can make a book on that," he declared. "I may be a crook, but I'm no sucker, and I know when to hobble my talk and when to slip the bridle. I did five years once when it wasn't coming to me, and I can do it again--if I have to." He jammed his hat down over his ears, and walked out.

"I really think he is telling the truth," said the girl. "He is dreadfully hurt to think you distrust him."

"He and I have threshed that out," Emerson declared, pacing the room with nervous strides. "When I think what an idiotic trifle it was that caused this disaster, I could throttle him--and I would if I didn't blame myself for it." He paused to stare unseeingly at her." I'm waiting for the crash to come before I walk into room 610 at the Hotel Buller and settle with 'Mr. Jones, of New York.'"

"You aren't seriously thinking of any such melodramatic finish, are you?"

she inquired.

"When I first met you in Kalvik, I said I would stop at nothing to succeed. Well, I meant it. I am more desperate now than I was then. I could have stood over that wretch at the dock, the other day, and watched him drown, because he dared to step in between me and my work, I could walk into Willis Marsh's room and strangle him, if by so doing I could win. Yes!" he checked her, "I know I am wrong, but that is how I feel. I have wrung my soul dry. I have toiled and sweated and suffered for three years, constantly held down by the grip of some cursed evil fortune. A dozen times I have climbed to the very brink of success, only to be thrust down by some trivial cause like this. Can you wonder that I have watched my honor decay and crumble?--that I've ceased to care what means I use so long as I succeed? I have fought fair so far, but now, I tell you, I've come to a point where I'd sacrifice anything, everything to get what I want--and I want that girl."

"You are tired and overwrought," said Cherry, quietly. "You don't mean what you say. The success of this enterprise, with any happiness it may bring you, isn't worth a human life; nor is it worth what you are suffering."

"Perhaps not, from your point of view," he said, roughly, then struck his palm with closed fist. "What an idiot I was to begin all this--to think I could win with no weapons and no aid except a half-mad fisherman, an addle-brained imbecile, a confidence man--"

"And a woman," supplemented Cherry. Then, more gravely: "I'm the one to blame; I got you into it."

"No, I blame no one but myself. Whatever you're responsible for, there's only one person you've harmed--yourself."