XIV
THE SYMPHONY IN BLUE
Macloud arrived the next day, bringing for his host a great batch ofmail, which had accumulated at the Club.
"I thought of it at the last moment--when I was starting for thestation, in fact," he remarked. "The clerk said he had no instructionsfor 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? Ican understand why you didn't leave an address, but not why I shouldn'tforward it."
"I didn't care, when I left--and I don't care much, now--but I'mobliged, just the same!" said Croyden. "It's something to do; the mostexciting 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 extensivecorrespondence, even in Northumberland--so this is just circulars andsuch trash."
He took the package, which Macloud handed him, and tossed it on thedesk.
"What's new?" he asked.
"In Northumberland? Nothing--beyond the usual thing. Everybody isback--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 isengaged--Charlotte Brundage has landed him, and the wedding is set forearly next month."
"I don't envy her the job," Croyden remarked.
"It won't bother her!" Macloud laughed. "She'll be privileged to drawon his bank account, and that's the all important thing with her. Hewill fracture the seventh commandment, and she won't turn a hair. Sheis a chilly proposition, all right."
"Well, I wish her joy of her bargain," said Croyden. "May she haveeverything she wants, and see Mattison not at all, after the weddingjourney--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 nocomment.
Presently Croyden came to a large, white envelope--darkened on theinterior so as to prevent the contents from being read until opened. Itbore the name of a firm of prominent brokers in Northumberland.
"Humph! Blaxham & Company!" he grunted. "'We own and offer, subject toprior sale, the following high grade investment bonds.' Oh yes! I'lltake the whole bundle." He drew out the letter and looked at it,perfunctorily, before sending it to rest with its fellows.--It wasn'tin the usual form.--He opened it, wider.--It was signed by the seniorpartner.
"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 sightdraft, or pay cash on presentation and transfer!
"What the devil!" he said, again. Then he passed 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 oneanother, and watching them spiral upward toward the ceiling.
"I beg your pardon!" he said, as Croyden's words roused him from hismeditation. "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 toexplain the reason for the purchase, and the foolishly high price theywere 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 eitherBlaxham 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," saidMacloud. "Be grateful for the offer--and accept by wireless or anyother 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 youhave struck it here."
"Too rich," Croyden answered. "There's something queer about thatletter."
Macloud smoked his cigar, and smiled.
"There's nothing queer about the letter!"--he said. "Blaxham's customermay have the willies--indeed, he as much as intimates that such is thecase--but, thank God! we're not obliged to have a commission-in-lunacyappointed on everybody who makes a silly stock or bond purchase. If wewere, we either would have no markets, or the courts would have timefor nothing else. No! no! old man! take what the gods have given youand be glad. There's ten thousand a year in it! You can return toNorthumberland, resume the old life, and be happy ever after;--or youcan live here, and there, and everywhere. You're unattached--not even alight-o'-love to squander your money, and pester you for gowns andhats, and get in a hell of a temper--and be false to you, besides."
"No, I haven't one of them, thank God!" laughed Croyden. "I've gottroubles enough of my own. The present, for instance."
"Troubles!" marvelled Macloud. "You haven't any troubles, now. Thisclears 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 besuspicious."
"Suspicious? Why suspicious? It's a bona fide offer."
"It's a bona fide offer--there's no trouble on that score."
"Then, what is the trouble?"
"This," said Croyden: "I'm broke--finally. The Parmenter treasure ismoonshine, so far as I'm concerned. I'm down on my uppers, so tospeak--my only assets are some worthless bonds. Behold! along comes anoffer for them at par--two hundred thousand dollars for nothing! Ifancy, old man, there is a friend back of this offer--the only friend Ihave in the world--and I did not think that even he was kind andself-sacrificing enough to do it.--I'm grateful, Colin, grateful fromthe heart, believe me, but I can't take your money."
"My money!" exclaimed Macloud--"you do me too much credit, Croyden. I'mashamed to admit it, but I never thought of the bonds, or of helpingyou out, in your trouble. It's a way we have in Northumberland. We mayfeel for misfortune, but it rarely gets as far as our pockets. Don'timagine for a moment that I'm the purchaser. I'm not, though I wish,now, that I was."
"Will you give me your word on that?" Croyden demanded.
"I most assuredly will," Macloud answered.
Croyden nodded. He was satisfied.
"There is no one else!" he mused, "no one else!" He looked at theletter again.... "And, yet, it is very suspicious, very suspicious....I wonder, could I ascertain the name of the purchaser of t
he stocks andbonds, from the Trust Company who held them as collateral?"
"They won't know," said Macloud. "Blaxham & Company bought them at thepublic sale."
"I could try the transfer agent, or the registrar."
"They never tell anything, as you are aware," Macloud replied.
"I could refuse to sell unless Blaxham & Company disclosed theircustomer."
"Yes, you could--and, likely, lose the sale; they won't disclose.However, that's your business," Macloud observed; "though, it's a pityto tilt at windmills, for a foolish notion."
Croyden creased and uncreased the letter--thinking.
Macloud resumed the smoke rings--and waited. It had proved easier thanhe had anticipated. Croyden had not once thought of ElaineCavendish--and his simple word had been sufficient to clearhimself....
At length, Croyden put the letter back in its envelope and looked up.
"I'll sell the bonds," he said--"forward them at once with draftattached, if you will witness my signature to the transfer. But it's aqueer proceeding, a queer proceeding: paying good money for bad!"
"That's his business--not yours," said Macloud, easily.
Croyden went to the escritoire and took the bonds from one of thedrawers.
"You can judge, from the place I keep them, how much I thought themworth!" he laughed.
When they were duly transferred and witnessed, Croyden attached a draftdrawn on an ordinary sheet of paper, dated Northumberland, and payableto his account at the Tuscarora Trust Company. He placed them in anenvelope, sealed it and, enclosing it in a second envelope, passed itover to Macloud.
"I don't care to inform them as to my whereabouts," he remarked, "so,if you don't mind, I'll trouble you to address this to some one in NewYork or Philadelphia, with a request that he mail the enclosed envelopefor you."
Macloud, when he had done as requested, laid aside the pen and lookedinquiringly at Croyden.
"Which, being interpreted," he said, "might mean that you don't intendto return to Northumberland."
"The interpretation does not go quite so far; it means, simply, that Ihave not decided."
"Don't you want to come back?" Macloud asked.
"It's a question of resolution, not of inclination," Croyden answered."I don't know whether I've sufficient resolution to go, and sufficientresolution to stay, if I do go. It may be easier not to go, at all--tolive here, and wander, elsewhere, when the spirit moves."
And Macloud understood. "I've been thinking over the proposition yourecently advanced of the folly of a relatively poor man marrying a richgirl," he said, "and you're all wrong. It's a question of therespective pair, not a theory that can be generalized over. I admit,the man should not be a pauper, but, if he have enough money to support_himself_, and the girl love him and he loves the girl, the fact thatshe has gobs more money, won't send them on the rocks. It's up to thepair, I repeat."
"Meaning, that it would be up to Elaine Cavendish and me?" answeredCroyden.
"If you please, yes!" said Macloud.
"I wish I could be so sure," Croyden reflected. "Sure of the girl, aswell as sure of myself."
"What are you doubtful about--yourself?"
Croyden laughed, a trifle self-consciously.
"I fancy I could manage myself," he said.
"Elaine?"
"Yes, Elaine!"
"Try her!--she's worth the try."
"From a monetary standpoint?" smiling.
"Get the miserable money out of your mind a moment, will you?--you'rehipped on it!"
"All right, old man, anything for peace! Tell me, did you see her, whenyou were home?"
"I did--I dined with her."
"Who else was there?"
"You--she talked Croyden at least seven-eighths of the time; I, theother eighth."
"Must have been an interesting conversation. Anything left of thevictim, afterward?"
"I refuse to become facetious," Macloud responded. Then he threw hiscigar into the grate and arose. "It matters not what was said, nor whosaid it! If you will permit me the advice, you will take your chancewhile you have it."
"Have I a--chance?" Croyden asked.
"You have--more than a chance, if you act, now----" He walked across tothe window. He would let that sink in.--"How's the Symphony in Blue?"he asked.
"As charming as ever--and prepared for your coming."
"What?"
"As charming as ever, and prepared for your coming."
"Some of your work!" he commented. "Did you propose for me?"
"I left that finality for you--being the person most interested."
"Thanks! you're exceedingly considerate."
"I thought you would appreciate it."
"When did you arrange for me to go over?" asked Macloud.
"Any time--the sooner the quicker. She'll be glad to see you."
"She confided in you, I suppose?"
"Not directly; she let me infer it."
"In other words, you worked your imagination--overtime!" laughedMacloud. "It's a pity you couldn't work it a bit over the Parmenterjewels. You might locate them."
"I'm done with the Parmenter jewels!" said Croyden.
"But they're not done with you, my friend. So long as you live, they'llbe present with you. You'll be hunting for them in your dreams."
"Meet me to-night in dream-land!" sang Croyden. "Well, they're notlikely to disturb my slumbers--unless--there was a rather queer thinghappened, last night, Colin."
"Here?"
"Yes!--I got in to Hampton, in the evening; about nine o'clock, I wasreturning to Clarendon when, at the gates, I was accosted by a tall,well-dressed stranger. Here is the substance of our talk.... What doyou make of it?" he ended.
"It seems to me the fellow made it very plain," Macloud returned,"except on one possible point. He evidently believes we found thetreasure."
"He is convinced of it."
"Then, he knows that you came direct from Annapolis to Hampton--I mean,you didn't visit a bank nor other place where you could have depositedthe jewels. Ergo, the jewels are still in your possession, according tohis theory, and he is going to make a try for them while they arewithin reach. Informing the Government is a bluff. He hoped, by thatmeans, to induce you to keep the jewels on the premises--not to makeevidence against yourself, which could be traced by the United States,by depositing them in any bank."
"Why shouldn't I have taken them to a dealer in precious stones?" saidCroyden.
"Because that would make the best sort of evidence against you. Youmust remember, he thinks you have the jewels, and that you will try toconceal it, pending a Government investigation."
"You make him a very canny gentleman."
"No--I make him only a clever rogue, which, by your own account, heis."
"And the more clever he is, the more he will have his wits' work fornaught. There's some compensation in everything--even in failure!"
"It would be a bit annoying," observed Macloud, "to be visited byburglars, who are obsessed with the idea that you have a fortuneconcealed on the premises, and are bent on obtaining it."
"Annoying?--not a bit!" smiled Croyden. "I should rather enjoy thesport of putting them to flight."
"Or of being bound, and gagged, and ill-treated."
"Bosh! you've transferred your robber-barons from Northumberland to theEastern Shore."
"No, I haven't!" laughed Macloud. "The robber-barons were still on thejob in Northumberland. These are banditti, disguised as burglars, aboutto hold you up for ransom."
"I wish I had your fine imagination," scoffed Croyden. "I could make afortune writing fiction."
"Oh, you're not so bad yourself!" Macloud retorted. Then he smiled."Apropos of fortunes!" and nodded toward the envelope on the table."It's bully good to think you're coming back to us!"
At that moment Moses passed along the hall.
"Here, Moses," said Croyden, "take this letter down to the postoffice--I want it to catch the first mail."
"I fancy y
ou haven't heard of the stranger since last evening?" Macloudasked.
Croyden shook his head.
"And of course you haven't told any one?"
"Yes, I have!" said Croyden.
"A woman?"
"A woman."
"How strange!" commented Macloud, mockingly. "I suppose you even toldher the entire story--from the finding of the letter down to date."
"I did!--and showed her the letter besides. Why shouldn't I have doneit?"
"No reason in the world, my dear fellow--except that in twenty-fourhours the dear public will know it, and we shall be town curiosities."
"We don't have to remain," said Croyden, with affected seriousness--"thereare trains out, you know, as well as in."
"I don't want to go away--I came here to visit you."
"We will go together."
"But we can't take the Symphony in Blue!"
"Oh! that's it!" Croyden laughed.
"Certainly, that's it! You don't think I came down here to see onlyyou, after having just spent nearly four weeks with you, in that foolquest on Greenberry Point?" He turned, suddenly, and faced Croyden."Who was the woman you told?"
"Miss Carrington!" Croyden laughed. "Think she will retail it to thedear public?"
"Oh, go to thunder!"
"Because, if you do, you might mention it to her--there, she goes,now!"
"Where?" said Macloud, whirling around toward the window.
Croyden made no reply. It was not necessary. On the opposite side ofthe street, Miss Carrington--in a tailored gown of blue broadcloth,close fitting and short in the skirt, with a velvet toque to match--wasswinging briskly back from town.
Macloud watched her a moment in silence.
"The old man is done for, at last!" Croyden thought.
"Isn't she a corker!" Macloud broke out. "Look at the poise of thehead, and ease of carriage, and the way she puts down her feet!--that'sthe way to tell a woman. God! Croyden, she's thoroughbred!"
"You better go over," said his friend. "It's about the tea hour, she'llbrew you a cup."
"And I'll drink it--as much as she will give me. I despise the stuff,but I'll drink it!"
"She'll put rum in it, if you prefer!" laughed Croyden; "or make you ahigh ball, or you can have it straight--just as you want."
"Come along!" exclaimed Macloud. "We're wasting time."
"I'll be over, presently," Croyden replied. "_I_ don't want any tea,you know."
"Good!" Macloud answered, from the hallway. "Come along, as soon as youwish--but don't come _too soon_."
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