The Desire of the Moth; and the Come On - Part 22
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Part 22

"But why don't you have them arrested?"

"Arrested? O no!" cried Steve, in pained surprise. "That wouldn't be fair. That isn't done! Besides, don't you see, that wouldn't hurt their feelings like this?"

"I see," said Wyatt. "I'm your man. And I say, old chap, before I go back to my Cholly-talk again, advise me. Would I look any more idiotic, do you think, if I should suck my cane? I don't want to disappoint any one."

"I would not," said Steve. "You're too good to be true, without that."

"Wouldn't you naturally suppose," sighed Wyatt, "that people would know that no man could be as big a fool as I am, unless he did it on purpose? But they don't. They swallow it, hook, bob and sinker!"

Chapter VI

"_If the bowl had been stronger My tale had been longer_."

Steve entered Mitch.e.l.l's office with the painful uprightness and precise carriage of one who has lunched not wisely but rather too well. His speech, too, was of ponderous brevity. The man of affairs chided him with fatherly kindness.

"This won't do, my boy--this won't do. I like you, Thompson. I'm sorry--I'm pained to see this. Don't go in for this sort of thing, or your good fortune will prove a curse in disguise."

Steve hung his head, muttering something incoherent about not being used to wine and that he'd soon get over it.

"Oh, young men _will_ be young men, I suppose," sighed Mitch.e.l.l tolerantly. "Tell you what. Archibald's going for a spin over to East New York. I'll just 'phone him to drop by on his way and take us along. Fresh air'll do you good."

Steve a.s.sented, and fell to poring over the immense wall map of New York with preternatural gravity.

But Mitch.e.l.l's benevolent plan was doomed to be frustrated. Hardly had Archibald arrived and the employees been dismissed, when the sordid, busy, money-making city intruded in the person of Loring.

There were merry greetings all around. The artist was much pleased to renew his acquaintance with Thompson, to whom he had taken a fancy.

Loring, it seemed, was an old friend of Archibald's and was promptly invited to make one of the party.

"Oh, I can't," demurred Loring. "And I hate to spoil sport, but I've got a good thing which must be put through to-night or not at all. I ran in to get Mitch.e.l.l to handle it for me. I've got the opportunity, but not the wherewithal." He made the candid admission with a delightful smile.

"I fear that you are leaning on a mighty nearly broken reed," said Mitch.e.l.l. "I'm all tied up in money matters this week. But spit it out, anyhow. I've got six or seven thousand loose. If it's more than that perhaps Archie can swing it--if it's a safe proposition."

"Safe as United States bonds, and good for thirty per cent, profit.

Come back, Thompson!" Steve was making for the door, with apologies.

"You're not in the way a bit. Sit down, man! Your six thousand won't be a starter, Joe. I've got some four thousand myself, in red, red gold. All I have in the world--wish it was more." His blithe insouciance was irresistibly charming.

"Get down to business, old fellow," said Archibald. "What's the lay?"

"This is all confidential, between gentlemen, you understand?" All nodded. "You know young Post is in hiding? Well, I've been in touch with him all along. He's tired of skulking and wants me to sell that house his mother left him, strictly on the Q.T. He's got a chance to slip away on a private yacht to-night. Said I could have all I could get over thirty thousand. It's worth fifty, at least. I know where I could get forty-five, but I dare not approach those people now, because they are unfriendly to Post and would make him trouble. Once he is safely away----" He waved his hand.

"That ought to be a good thing," said Archibald thoughtfully. "It rents for six thousand a year, and values going up. I've a good mind to go into it for a permanent investment. Let's see--he'd want spot cash, wouldn't he?"

"Naturally. Cash on the nail. He could hardly afford to be identified, you know."

"Can't raise that much to-day," said the shipowner. "Maybe, by borrowing from my partner, I could get enough to pool with you and Mitch.e.l.l. What's your proposition? About cutting profits, I mean."

"I think I should have ten per cent. net, besides the proportionate earning of my four thousand--for giving you fellows the first chance.

There's plenty would jump at it."

"That's fair enough," said Archibald. "Mr. Thompson, you will excuse us? Our trip will only be postponed. I'll have to fly around to rustle ready money. I'll see Bowring first."

"Hold on," said Mitch.e.l.l. "Why don't you let my friend in on this?

He's got the scads, and he's a good fellow."

"Oh, he would have to go and see the place," objected Archibald, his eye evidently on the main chance.

"No, he won't. We looked it over yesterday. I showed it to him because I used to live there. Don't be selfish, Archie. There's plenty of chances for you to make money. Get your pail, Thompson!"

"We-ll," said Archibald grudgingly. "So long as it's not sure that Bowring can spare me the money, let him take over a third if he wants to."

"Sure I do," grinned the prospective buyer, highly elated, "and much obliged to you, too, Mr. Archibald.

"That's all right," said that person gruffly. "Now then, Loring, come out of it! Time's flying. Where? When? How? Never saw an artist yet that could think on straight lines," he grumbled.

"All of you get your money, meet at Mitch.e.l.l's rooms. I'll let Post know and join you there later. We'll wait till dark, get a tried and acquitted notary of my acquaintance, slip around to Post's lair after dark and do the deed. I'll stand a ripping dinner for the bunch out of my ten per cent. Put deed on record to-morrow morning. That'll give him start enough. Is that all clear?"

"Clear as a bell. I'm off!" said Archibald.

"Archie's a good sort, but he does hate to let a dollar get by him."

The artist laughed indulgently. "I say, Thompson, did you see how he stuck on letting you have a whack at it?"

"Where do you bank?" inquired Mitch.e.l.l. Steve told him where his money was deposited. Mitch.e.l.l shook his head. "I was hoping we would go the same way, but I go uptown."

Ten minutes after they left the industrious bookkeeper returned with navvies and draymen, and removed the office furniture to parts unknown.

When the four financiers got together in Mitch.e.l.l's room Steve proposed to continue his lessons in the fascinating game of bridge.

He drank freely and his game was the apotheosis of b.u.mble-puppy.

Archibald, his partner, was much irritated by his stupidity.

A bellboy came to the door. A gentleman in the parlor would like to see Mr. Thompson.

Mr. Thompson looked at the card. "Mr. A.W. Wyatt," he announced sneeringly. "You can tell Mr. A.W. Wyatt, if he wants to see me, he can just naturally mosey himself up here."

"Not _the_ A.W. Wyatt--Anson Walworth Wyatt?" asked Loring. "I know him--I mean, I know him by sight."

"I believe it is," said Steve with surly indifference. "If you know him, you know an overbearing jabberwock. He's head devil of the push that bought the Copperbottom and I don't like his style even a little bit. He seems to think I'm the dirt under his feet. I'll show him.

I know what he wants, and that's the other fourth of my mine." He thumped the table viciously. "He'll pay for all he gets from _me_, I'll tell you that."

Mr. Wyatt was ushered in; irreproachable, flawless, exquisite. ("It's him!" breathed Loring.) He remained standing, hat in hand, fitted his gla.s.s with vacuous care and surveyed the room with deliberately insolent scrutiny. Thompson kept his seat, fairly p.r.i.c.kling with antagonism. The others rose with exemplary good breeding.