Five Thousand an Hour: How Johnny Gamble Won the Heiress

by George Randolph Chester

  CHAPTER XXIII

  IN WHICH THE BRIGHT EYES OF CONSTANCE "RAIN INFLUENCE"

  There being no cozy corners aboard Mr. Courtney's snow-white Albatrossin which a couple with many important things to say could be free fromprying observation, Johnny and Constance behaved like normal humanbeings who were profoundly happy. They mingled with the gaiety all theway out through the harbor to the open sea, and then they driftedunconsciously farther and farther to the edge of the hilarity, untilthey found themselves sitting in the very prow of the foredeck with Mr.Courtney and his friend from the West. If they could not exchangeimportant confidences they could at least sit very quietly, touchingelbows.

  Mr. Courtney's friend from the West was a strong old man with keen blueeyes, who sat all through the afternoon in the same place, talking inlow tones with Courtney on such dry and interminable subjects asrailroads, mines, freight rates, stocks, bonds and board meetings.

  Constance wondered how an otherwise nice old man could reach that agewithout having accumulated any lighter and more comprehensible objectsof interest, and she really doubted the possibility of any man'sunderstanding all the dry-as-dust business statistics with which he wasso handy. Suddenly, however, Johnny Gamble awoke from his blissfullethargy and bent eagerly forward.

  "Beg pardon, Mr. Boise," he interjected into the peacefulconversational flow of the older men. "Did I understand you to say thatthe S. W. & P. had secured a controlling interest in the B. F. & N. W.?"

  Constance looked at Johnny in dismay. If he, too, intended to talk innothing but the oral sign language, she had a wild idea of joining thefrivolous crowd on the afterdeck, where at least there was laughter.

  Mr. Boise looked at Johnny from under shaggy eyebrows.

  "It's not generally known," he stated, struggling between a desire tobe pleasant to a fellow guest and a regret that he had fancied Johnnyabsorbed too much in Constance to be interested in sotto voce affairs.

  "That's what that territory needs," Johnny briskly commented. "As longas the S. W. & P. and the B. F. & N. W. were scrapping, the SanchoHills Basin had as good service with burros."

  Both Boise and Courtney laughed.

  "Be careful, Johnny," warned Courtney. "Mr. Boise is president of theS. W. & P., and is now also virtually president of the B. F. & N. W."

  Constance sighed, but stuck gamely to her post. After all Johnny washaving a good time, and he actually seemed to understand what they weretalking about. There was no question that Johnny was a smart man!

  "I'm glad he is president of both," said Johnny, "for withconsolidation things will start humming out there."

  "Thank you," laughed Boise, no longer regarding Johnny as animpertinent interloper. "That's what we hope to do."

  "The first thing you'll start will be a cut right across the SanchoHills Basin, which will shorten your haul to Puget Sound by fivehundred miles and open up a lot of rich new land."

  Boise studied him with contracted brows.

  "That's a good guess," he admitted. "You seem to know a lot about thatcountry."

  "I own some land out there," grinned Johnny. "Your best route will befrom Marble Bluffs to Sage City, and from there straight across to SaltPool, then up along the Buffalo Canon to Silver Ledge and on to themain line."

  "That's one of the three routes I've been worrying over," agreed Boise,admiring Johnny's frankness. "I promised to wire my chief engineerto-morrow which one to put through."

  Constance noticed a slight squaring of Johnny's lower lip, and she feltleaping within her a sudden intense interest in S. W. & P. and B. F. &N. W.

  "What are the others?" asked Johnny.

  Mr. Boise promptly drew a canvas-backed map from his pocket. Mr.Courtney reached for a folding deck chair. Constance helped Mr. Boisespread out the map. Johnny weighted down the corners with a cigar-case,a watch, a pocket-knife and a silver dollar.

  "The favorite route at present," pointed out Boise, "is from MarbleBluffs round by Lariat Center, across to Buffalo Canyon and up toSilver Ledge. The other one is right through Eagle Pass."

  "That one won't do at all," declared Johnny earnestly.

  "It's the shortest," insisted Boise.

  "You'd have to tunnel through solid granite," objected Johnny, "and theonly traffic you would pick up would be from two or three dead miningtowns. In the Sage City and Salt Pool route you would open up a big,rich, farming territory."

  "That route is the one I have practically discarded," said Boise."Right through here," and he put a broad forefinger on the map, "is alarge stretch of worthless arid land."

  "Yes, I know," admitted Johnny, hitching closer, "but right here"--andhe pointed to another place--"is Blue Lake, and with very simpleengineering work, which has been begun, it could be brought down toturn that whole district into land rich enough to load your cars withwheat, corn and cattle. Just now that water wastes itself throughBuffalo Canyon and doesn't do a pound of work until it hits the bigriver."

  Mr. Boise studied the map reflectively. Mr. Courtney studied itinterestedly. Johnny studied it eagerly. Constance, with her handsfolded in her lap, looked on with puzzled wonder.

  "Why, there's the S. W. & P.!" she exclaimed, as she discovered theletters along a graceful black line.

  "And here," supplemented the smiling Courtney, "is the B. F. & N. W.!"

  "I see," returned Constance delightedly. "They're both railroads! Theyrun up into Washington and Oregon, but the S. W. & P. has to go awayround this big pink spot. If it cuts right across there it can go toWashington much quicker. Why, I should think by all means that theroute by way of Sage City and Salt Pool would be the best!"

  Mr. Boise surveyed her with joyous eyes and chuckled until his breastheaved. "It might be," he admitted with a friendly glance at Johnny.

  "One big advantage," urged Johnny, "is that it would be an all-levelroute, with solid ground and but very little grading," and he plungedwith breathless energy into the task of convincing Mr. Boise that theSage City and Salt Pool route was the only feasible one.

  They discussed that topic for two solid hours, but before the firstthirty minutes had elapsed Johnny had unconsciously reached over intoConstance's lap and had taken one of her hands. There seemed to benothing in particular that she could do about it, so she let him keepit, and he used it occasionally to gesture with. What difference did itmake if Courtney and Boise did smile about it at first?

  When the railroad party had been dispersed by Winnie--who hadconstituted herself rigid master of the revels--Constance and Johnnyfound themselves tete-a-tete up in the prow for just a tiny moment.

  "Do you suppose he'll decide on the Sage City and Salt Pool route?" sheanxiously inquired.

  "I hope so," declared Johnny. "If he does, I think I see a chance tomake a little money."

  "Maybe we'd better talk some more with him," she suggested, lookingabout for Boise.

  "We'll let him alone for a little bit," laughed Johnny. "We've startedhim to thinking about it, and I have that appointment with him ateight-thirty to-morrow morning. Boise does a day's work before lunch."

  Later, in the bustle of preparing for dinner, Boise sat down byConstance.

  "Are you still in favor of the Sage City and Salt Pool route for ournew cut-off?" he asked with a smile as he inspected her delicatelyflushed cheeks and her bright eyes and her shining wavy hair.

  "Really, I don't know very much about it," she modestly confessed, "butI should think that an all-level route would be much the best."

  At the pier that night at twelve-thirty the party, on account of thelateness of the hour, very hurriedly dispersed. Johnny and Loringsecured a taxi and, with Polly and Constance, headed for Polly's housewhere Constance had decided to spend the night.

  As they crossed Seventh Avenue Johnny excitedly tapped on the glass infront of him and poking his head out through the other forward window,gave a sharp direction. The driver, a knobby-jawed and hairy-browedindividual, turned and tore down toward the big new terminal station asfast as he could go
.

  "Gresham," explained Johnny briefly, peering keenly ahead.

  "Well, what about him?" inquired Loring.

  "He's jumping the town. I don't trust my detectives."

  "Have you secured some proof?" eagerly inquired Loring.

  "No, only evidence," laughed Johnny at his lawyer, and for the rest ofthat brief ride neither the breathless girls nor the concentrated mensaid anything. They only held tensely forward and helped hurry.

  There were three taxis preceding them in the congested line whichturned in at the terminal station, and as the vehicles began to slowdown Johnny stood on the step.

  "If I get in a mix-up you keep this taxi right round where it'll behandy," he directed, and ran ahead just as Gresham, as fastidious asever, emerged at the entrance to the ticket lobby.

  Gresham allowed a porter to take all of his hand luggage, with theexception of one small black bag which he carefully carried himself.

  "I guess these are those," observed Johnny in a pleasant conversationaltone of voice as he lifted the bag from Gresham's hand.

  Gresham made a desperate grab for the bag, but Johnny gave him a shovewith one strong forearm, opened the bag and, diving into it, felt atight square bundle of papers near the bottom. Giving them one hastyglance he rushed back, closely followed by Gresham, to the taxi wherehis friends sat quivering with excitement.

  "Hide these," he ordered. "Get out of here, quick!" he told thechauffeur. "Mr. Loring will tell you where to drive."

  "They're hid all right," Polly assured him. "What are they?"

  "Amalgamated Steel bonds representing Gresham's half of my million,"rasped Johnny, throwing Gresham's weight off his arm. "Ask me the restof it the next time we meet. Just now I have to see to getting thisthief pinched."

  "As your attorney I'll have to caution you, Johnny, that your action isentirely illegal," Loring confidentially stated.

  "They're my bonds, bought with my money," asserted Johnny.

  "I know, but it has to be proved," argued Loring. "Your only way to getpossession of them is through the courts. Your present action has nobetter legal status than highway robbery."

  "I got the bonds, didn't I?" demanded Johnny. "Now you move. Here comesa copper, and if he gets those bonds for evidence I won't see themagain for months."

  A policeman appeared in the exact center of the perspective, followedby a faithful emissary of the Ember Detective Agency.

  "The bonds are no good to you just now unless Gresham assigns them,"insisted Loring almost tearfully, and both Constance and Polly gave upin despair.

  "That's right," agreed Johnny, glancing over his shoulder at thepoliceman and the indignant detective. Suddenly he pushed Greshamheadlong into the midst of the party and jumped in after him. "Holdhim, Loring!" he directed, and dismissed the stupefied Gresham from hismind.

  With remarkable deftness he had extracted a single bill from his pocketand thrust it into the hand of the experienced chauffeur.

  "Break the limit!" he tensely ordered.

  "Where?" asked the chauffeur, whirling out of the line with a jerk.

  "Any place," and the chauffeur, being a night worker and understandinghis business, accepted that direction with grinning relish and left thedepot policeman trying to remember the number of his machine.

  As they went up the incline from the ticket-lobby door Johnny arrangedthe bewildered girls on the two little front seats, and wedged thecowed Gresham carefully in between himself and Loring on the back seat.

  The chauffeur, knowing the only regular time-killing drive in the city,hit out for Central Park. Gresham was incapable of thought or action.As they crossed Forty-second Street Johnny touched his driver on theshoulder, and that handy criminal came to an immediate halt at thecurb. Johnny opened the door. Gresham moved. Loring quickly clutchedhim by the knee. The chauffeur looked back.

  "Leave it to me," he suggested in most friendly tones. "You don't needto change taxis."

  "I'd feel more like a real sport if I hired two," Johnny argued,studying his man intently.

  "I've got two numbers and I'll switch 'em," offered the assistantbrigand.

  "I think the police must know you by name," commented Johnny, "but I'lltake a chance," and giving Polly's address he climbed back.

  "Shall we hide the bonds?" whispered Polly as she prepared to alight atthe Parsons home.

  "Certainly not," replied Johnny. "I have to get them signed," and hepressed the hand of Constance with proper warmth as he helped her out.

  Gresham made an attempt at that point to prove himself a man, butLoring restrained him from that absurd idea with one hand while heraised his hat with the other.

  "Where next?" asked the driver huskily.

  "The finest place for a kidnapping is Forty-second and Broadway,"answered Johnny with his mind made up.

  "I'll take you all the way," almost begged the chauffeur. "You're theonly sport that ever handed me enough for a night ride, and I'd like tohand you good service."

  "I don't know who else pays you," laughed Johnny, and his chauffeur,with a mighty respect for his fare, drove to Forty-second and Broadway,where Johnny paid him.

  They walked to Johnny's apartments, and on their arrival Johnnyproduced the bonds, spreading them out on his table.

  "About the first thing is to sign these," he suggested to Gresham.

  That abused young man, who had been in the constant expectation ofhearing himself yell for the police, but had been as constantlydisappointed, had walked along like a gentleman; now, at last, he foundhis voice.

  "This is an outrage!" he exclaimed.

  "I know it," agreed Johnny. "It's even high-handed. Here's afountain-pen."

  "I refuse," maintained Gresham. "Why should I assign my own personalproperty to you?"

  "Because your personal property is mine," Johnny informed him. "I don'towe you any explanation, Gresham, but I'll make one. You helpedBirchard forge his power of attorney from the Wobbles brothers, and youwere with him in taxi 23406 when he collected my million from the FirstNational. You were seen again that night with Birchard on the BostonPost Road, and from then on Birchard dropped off the earth; but youdidn't. You got Jacobs to buy you these bonds, and Jacobs is a piker.He confessed and begged for mercy. You're through."

  Gresham held doggedly to the thought that never, under anycircumstances, must he admit a criminal action; for such a thing was sofar beneath him.

  "I deny everything that you have said," he declared.

  Johnny had a sudden frantic picture of this man touching the hand ofConstance, and he leaned across the table until his face was quiteclose to Gresham's. The muscles in his jaws grew uncomfortably nervous.

  "Did you ever hear of the third degree?" he inquired. "Well, I'm goingto put you through it."

  "The third degree?" faltered Gresham. "I don't quite understand whatyou mean."

  "You don't?" replied Johnny. "It begins this way"--and the watchfulLoring suddenly hung on Johnny's arm with his full weight.

  "Don't!" implored Loring.

  "I'm going to smash his head in!" husked Johnny, quivering with ananger to which he had not given way for years.

  "Wait a minute!" pleaded Loring, pulling on him with all his strength."Wait, I say! I want to help you, but you're in wrong. Listen tome"--and he drew his reluctant client away from the table. "I've noobjections to your thrashing Gresham and I'd like to be your proxy, butyou'd better put it off. If you compel Gresham by force to sign thesebonds he can repudiate that action under protection of the court and itwill work against you."

  Johnny Gamble controlled himself with an effort.

  "They're my bonds," he persisted with his thoughts, however, more onConstance than on business. "He'll sign them or I'll smash him."

  Gresham, speaking above his panic of physical cowardice with atremulous effort, interpolated himself into the argument.

  "I'll sign," he promised with stiff lips, and tried to write his nameon the cover of a magazine. The scrawl was so undecipherable
that herose from the table and walked up and down the room in acute distress,holding his right hand at the wrist and limbering it. "If I sign," hepresently bargained as he came to the table, "I must be promisedfreedom from the distaste of a personal encounter."

  Loring hastily complied, and Johnny, after having been prodded into arecognition of the true situation, agreed with a disgusted snarl.

  Gresham, with nerves much restored and a smile beginning to appear uponhis now oily features, carefully assigned each bond, and then, securein Johnny's promise, which he accepted at the par value all men gaveit, stood up and shook his finger warningly.

  "A signature obtained under coercion is not worth the ink it took toscrawl it," he triumphantly declared, having taken his cue from Loring."Any court in America will set aside this action."

  "I know it," Johnny unexpectedly coincided. "I'm going to give you achance at it," and grabbing his telephone he called up Central Policeand asked for an officer to be sent to his rooms.

  "Now, Loring, you disappear," directed Johnny briskly as he gathered upthe bonds. "I may have to dismiss you as my lawyer, but as my friendyou can hand these bonds to somebody who will lose them."

  "As your lawyer I'd have to call you a blooming idiot," declaredLoring, "but as your friend I don't think Gresham will raise anyquestion about the bonds. They're yours, Johnny; but, nevertheless,I'll forget where they are by the time the police come."

  Gresham had been struggling with an intolerable lump in his throat.

  "Gamble!" he abjectly pleaded, "I've signed the bonds. I admit thatthey're yours. You're not going to have me arrested?"

  Johnny turned on him with the sort of implacable enmity which expressesitself in almost breathless quietness.

  "I'm going to send you to the penitentiary for a thousand years," hepromised.