CHAPTER VIII
IN WHICH CONSTANCE SHOWS FURTHER INTEREST IN JOHNNY'S AFFAIRS
On Wednesday morning Mr. Courtney, sitting as rigidly at his desk as ifhe were in church, was handed the card of Morton Washer. He laid thecard face down and placed a paper-weight on it, as if he feared itmight get away. He turned a callous eye on his secretary and, in hisdriest and most husky tones, directed: "Tell Mr. Washer I will see himin five minutes."
During that five minutes Mr. Courtney signed letters as solemnly as ajudge pronouncing a death sentence. At last he paused and looked athimself for a solid half-minute in the bookcase mirror across from hisdesk. Apparently he was as mournful as an undertaker, but at the end ofthe inspection his mouth suddenly stretched in a wide grin, whichbristled the silver-white beard upon his cheeks; his eyes screwedthemselves up into knots of jovial wrinkles and he winked--actuallywinked--at his reflection in the glass! Thereupon he straightened hisface and sent for Morton Washer.
Mr. Washer, proprietor of two of the largest hotels in New York, andhalf a dozen enormous winter and summer places, looked no more like aboniface than he did like a little girl on communion Sunday. He was asmall, wispy, waspish fellow with a violently upright, ragingpompadour, a mustache which, in spite of careful attempts at waxing,persisted in sticking straight forward, and a sharp hard nose which hadapparently been tempered to a delicate purple.
"Hear you've revived your hotel project," he said to Mr. Courtney.
"No," denied Courtney. "Sold the property."
"I know," agreed Mr. Washer with absolute disbelief. "What'll you takefor it?"
"I told you it was sold. Here's the contract." And, with greatsatisfaction, Courtney passed over the document.
"Two million six hundred and fifty!" snorted Washer. "That's half amillion more than it's worth."
"You told my friends you intended to buy the railroad plot at three anda half," Courtney gladly reminded him.
"It's four hundred feet deep."
"You said you only wanted two hundred feet square, which is the size ofthis plot--and this is an equally good location."
"I know," admitted Washer, contemptuous of all such trifles. "What willyou take for the property--spot cash?"
"It's sold, I tell you. If you want to buy it see Mr. Gamble."
"Who's Gamble?"
"The man who is organizing the Terminal Hotel Company."
"How much stock has he subscribed?"
"You will have to see Mr. Gamble about that."
"Did you take any?"
"Half a million."
"Humph! You could afford to. Now give me the straight of it, Courtney:Is it any use to talk to you?"
"Not a bit. You'll--"
"I know. I'll have to see Mr. Gamble! Well, where do I find him?"
Mr. Courtney kindly wrote the address on a slip of paper. Mr. Washerlooked at it with a grunt, stuffed it in his waistcoat pocket andslammed out of the door. Mr. Courtney winked at himself in the glass.Old Mort Washer would try to take advantage of him, to the extent of aneighth of a million dollars, would he! Make his old friend Courtneytake an eighth of a million less than he paid, eh? Mr. Courtneywhistled a merry little tune.
Fifteen minutes later, Old Mort Washer bounced into Loring's office.
"Mr. Gamble?" he popped out.
Both gentlemen turned to him, but Loring turned away.
"I'm Gamble," stated that individual.
"I'm Morton Washer."
Since Mr. Gamble was aware of that fact and was expecting this visit,he betrayed no surprise.
"What can I do for you, Mr. Washer?" he inquired.
"Are you taking bona fide subscriptions to your Terminal Hotel Company?"
"No other kind interests me."
"How nearly is your company filled?"
"Why do you want to know? Do you figure on taking some stock?"
"No."
"What do you want?"
"Your price on the property. Will you sell it?"
"Of course I will--at a profit."
"How much?"
"Two million seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars."
"Keep it!" snapped Washer, and started for the door.
"Much obliged," returned Johnny cheerfully, and returned to hiscombination daybook, journal, ledger and diary. "Ashley, I put in fourhours' overtime, Monday. Do I enter that on the debit or credit side?"
Loring stifled a snicker.
"I think I'd open a separate account for that," he solemnly advised.
"I say," renewed Washer, returning one pace, "who are some of yourprospective stockholders?"
"Close, of the Fourth National, is one; Mr. Courtney is another;Colonel Bouncer is another. I have more."
"Thanks!" snapped Washer. "I'll give you two and a half millions forthat property."
"I'd rather finance the Terminal Hotel. Let me show you a perspectivesketch of it, Mr. Washer," and he opened the drawer of his desk.
"You'll have to excuse me," blurted Mr. Washer. "Good day!" and he wasgone.
"I didn't know you had Close," commented Loring in surprise. "How didyou hypnotize him?"
"Showed him a profit. Mr. Courtney told me last night that Closeboosted me yesterday, so I sold him some stock this morning. Say,Loring, how did you square that fifteen thousand attachment?"
"None of your business," said Loring.
Mr. Washer rushed in to see Mr. Close.
"I see you've subscribed for stock in the Terminal Hotel Company," heobserved. "To accommodate a client?"
"No, because I thought it would be a good investment," Mr. Closeinformed him, turning up the edge of a piece of paper and creasing itas carefully as if it had been money. "Of course I would not care tohave my action influence others."
"Do you think Gamble can fully organize such a company?"
"I think so," stated Mr. Close. "Understand, I do not recommend theinvestment; and my stock is subscribed only on condition that heobtains his full quota of capital."
"What sort of a man is he?"
"A very reliable young man, I believe," responded Mr. Close, carefullytesting an ink-eaten steel pen point to see if it was really time forit to be thrown away. "Of course I could not state Mr. Gamble to befinancially responsible, but personally I would trust him. I would noturge or even recommend any one to take part in his projects; butpersonally I feel quite safe in investing with him, though I would notcare to have that fact generally known, because of the influence itmight have. Perhaps you had better see some of the other subscribers."
"No, I've seen enough," announced Mr. Washer. "Thanks!" and he dashedout of the door.
Ten minutes later he was in Loring's office again.
"Now, name your bottom price for that property," he ordered.
"Two million seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars," obliged Johnnywith careful emphasis on each word.
"It's too much money."
"Don't buy it, then," advised Johnny, smiling quite cheerfully.
"Come on; let's close it up," offered Washer resignedly. "I might haveto pay more if I waited."
"All right," said Johnny. "It's a bargain, then?"
"It's a bargain--confound it!" agreed Mr. Washer quite affably, nowthat the struggle was over. "Where do we go?"
"To Mallard Tyne, the six original owners and myself will all take apiece of your two and three-quarter millions."
"I ought to take a body-guard," grinned Washer; "but I'll chance it.Come on."
While the foregoing was in progress Constance Joy was entertaining PaulGresham, who had the effrontery to drop in for lunch. Of course theconversation turned to Johnny Gamble. Neither of them could avoid it.They had reached the point where Gresham was angry and Constance wasenjoying herself.
"I have great faith in him," she was saying. "He has a wonderfulproject under way just now."
"And he doesn't care who suffers by it," charged Gresham, furious thatshe should be so well-informed. "You'll see that he'll involveCourtney's property with
some of his old debts."
Constance's eyes widened.
"Do you think so?" she inquired as quietly as possible.
"Of course he will. His creditors are certain to take advantage of thisimmediately. I warned Courtney."
She hastily arose and went into the hall.
"Oh, Aunt Pattie!" she called up the stairs. "Mr. Gresham is here."Then to Gresham: "You'll excuse me for a little while, won't you? AuntPattie is coming down."
Five minutes after Johnny and Mr. Washer had gone, Constance Joy cameinto Johnny's office with carefully concealed timidity. Her manner wascoldly gracious and self-possessed, and her toilet was perfect; but shecarried one ripped glove.
"Is Mr. Loring in?" she asked with perfect assurance and also withsuddenly accelerated dignity; for the stenographer was really quiteneat-looking--not pretty, you know, but neat.
"He has just gone out," replied the stenographer with tremendoussweetness. Anybody could look pretty in expensive clothes likeConstance Joy's.
There was a moment's hesitation.
"Is Mr. Gamble in?"
The girl smiled quite brightly.
"Mr. Gamble has just gone out," she stated, and smiled again. She wasnot at all pretty when she smiled--not by any means--neat, though.
"Could you tell me where I would be likely to find Mr. Loring?" askedConstance stiffly.
"Haven't the slightest idea," answered the girl happily, and gave herhair a touch. Ah! there was a rip under her sleeve!
"Do you know where Mr. Gamble has gone?" and Constance was suddenlypleasant through and through.
"Mr. Gamble?" repeated the girl, wondering at the sudden sweetness andsuspicious of it. "Oh, Mr. Gamble has gone over to the office ofMallard back in a few minutes. He's in and out a great deal, but heseldom stays out of the office long at a time."
"Thank you," said Constance hastily, reflecting that there was a publictelephone booth in the drug store on the corner, so she need notinquire the address of Mallard & Tyne.
Mr. Gamble, Mr. Courtney, and Mr. Washer were in Mr. Mallard's privateoffice, with that acutely earnest real estate gentleman, when a boycame in to advise Mr. Gamble that he was wanted on the telephone.Johnny Gamble had never heard the voice of Constance over a thin wire,but he recognized it in an instant; and he hitched his chair six inchescloser to the instrument. He gave her a fool greeting, which he triedto remember afterward so that he could be confused about it; butConstance wasted no time in preliminaries.
"Have you any property which could be attached?" she wanted to know.
"Just at the present minute I have," he admitted. "I shall have anominal title in a big building plot, for a day or two--or until thenecessary papers can be signed."
"You mustn't wait!" she hastily ordered him. "You must get rid of itright this minute."
"I'll burn it up if you don't like it," he heartily promised her."What's the matter with it?"
"It isn't safe for you to have it an instant. I've wasted so much timetrying to find Polly or Loring, so that they could warn you, that Ihaven't time to explain. Just get rid of it immediately--can't you?"
"I can do anything you say," he earnestly informed her, hitching hischair closer. There was only an inch left, but he took that. "You'llexplain to me to-night what all this is about, won't you?"
"You may come, but you mustn't ask questions."
"I'll be there as soon as I'm through here," he promptly informed her.
"Not so early," she protested, panic-stricken, "I have a caller justnow. You must hurry, Mr. Gamble."
"Yes, I will," and he tried to hitch his chair closer. "You'retelephoning from the house, then?"
"No-o-o-o!" and he thought he detected a stifled snicker. "I left himwith Aunt Pattie and slipped out for a minute."
Him! Him, eh? And she had slipped out to telephone her friend, Johnny,the bit of hot information!
He covered the transmitter with his hand to turn aside and smile. Thiswas a pleasant world after all!
"Many, many thanks!" he jubilated. "I think I'll arrange a littledinner of jollification to-night and hand you the official score. I'llhave the colonel, and Mr. Courtney, and Polly, and--"
"You may call me up and tell me about it as soon as you get thatproperty off your hands," she interrupted him.
"All right," he reluctantly agreed. "You'll come to the dinner, won'tyou?"
"Well, I have a partial engagement," she hesitated.
"Then you'll come," he exultantly knew.
"Maybe," she replied. "Hurry!"
He declared that he would--but he was talking into a dead telephone.
"I guess I'll hurry," he decided, and stalked into Mallard's room."Look here, fellows. Can't we cut this thing short?" he suggested."There's no use in Mr. Courtney's completing his purchase from Mallard& Tyne, or me mine from Mr. Courtney, or Mr. Washer his from me. Allthat poppy-cock is just to conceal out profits. What Mr. Washer wantsis the ground; and Courtney and I want half a million dollars, besidesthe eighth of a million that Mr. Courtney had already invested. Mr.Washer, give Courtney your check for five-eighths of a million--andboth Courtney and I will tear up our contracts and give you the pieces.Then you settle with Mallard & Tyne for two and an eighth millions."
"Look here, Courtney, is this a put-up job between you and Gamble?"demanded Washer.
"No," returned Courtney, with that rarely seen smile of his, "it's onlythe finish of that job you put up on me when you persuaded my friendsto drop out of my hotel company."
Washer looked petulant. Johnny Gamble patted him on the shoulder.
"Cheer up," he said--"but hurry. If you don't hurry I'll sell you somestock in my Terminal Hotel Company."
"Give me some papers to sign," ordered Washer, producing his check-book.
Gresham met the colonel and Courtney on Broadway in full regalia justas they were turning in at the newest big cafe to dine that night.
"I'm sorry to tell you, Mr. Courtney, that my warning of this noon wasnot unfounded," he remarked. "Perhaps, however, you already know it."
"No, I don't," returned Courtney, eying the correctly dressed Greshamwith some dissatisfaction. "I'm not even sure of what you mean."
"About a certain man with whom you are doing business."
"Oh--Gamble?"
"What's the matter with Gamble?" bristled the colonel.
"Why, Gresham hinted to me this morning that Gamble had financialobligations he could not meet," explained Courtney. "It seems that hemet them, however."
"Of course he did!" snorted the colonel.
"I hadn't intended to make the matter public property," stated Greshamwith an uncomfortable feeling that he was combating an unassailable andunaccountable prejudice.
"Bless my soul, you're succeeding mighty well!" blurted the colonel."Now, tell us all you know about my friend Gamble. Out with it!"
"I beg you to understand, Mr. Courtney, that I am inspired by a purelyfriendly interest," insisted Gresham with very stiff dignity. "Ithought it might be of value for you to know--if you were not alreadyinformed--that an attachment for fifty thousand dollars upon Mr. Gamblewas laid against your Terminal Hotel property this afternoon."
Mr. Courtney paused to consider.
"At what time was this attachment issued?"
"At three-thirty, I was informed."
Mr. Courtney's reception of that important bit of news was ratherunusual, in consideration of its gravity. He threw back his head andlaughed; he turned to the colonel and, putting his hand upon his oldfriend's shoulder, laughed again; he put his other hand upon Gresham'sshoulder and laughed more. The colonel was a slower thinker. He lookedpainfully puzzled for a moment--then suddenly it dawned upon him, andhe laughed uproariously; he punched his old friend Courtney in the ribsand laughed more uproariously; he punched Gresham in the ribs andlaughed most uproariously.
"Why, bless my heart, boy!" he explained for Courtney. "At two-thirty,neither Courtney nor Johnny Gamble owned a penny's worth of interest inthe Terminal Hotel sit
e, if that's the property you mean--and of courseyou do."
"No," laughed Courtney. "At that hour we sold it outright to MortonWasher for a cool half-million profit, which my friend Johnny and Idivide equally. I saw him make the entry in his book. He hastwenty-four hours in which to loaf on that remarkable schedule of his.Johnny Gamble is a wonderful young man!"
"Who's that's such a wonderful young man?" snapped a jerky littlevoice. "Johnny Gamble? You bet he is! He skinned me!"
Turning, Courtney grasped the hands of lean little Morton Washer and ofwiry-faced Joe Close.
"We're all here now except the youngsters and the ladies," saidCourtney. "Possibly they're inside. Coming in, Gresham?"
"No, I think not," announced Gresham, sickly. "Who's giving the party?"
"Johnny Gamble," snapped Washer. "It's in honor of me!"
A limousine drove up just then. In it were sweet-faced Mrs.Parsons--Polly's mother by adoption--Polly, Loring and Sammy Chirp, thelatter gentleman being laden with the wraps of everybody but Loring.
Just behind the limousine was a taxi. In it were Aunt Pattie Boyden,Constance Joy and Johnny Gamble. Gresham, who had held a partialengagement for the evening, went to his club instead.
Five Thousand an Hour: How Johnny Gamble Won the Heiress Page 8