BROOKE HAMILTON’S STAUNCHEST ADVOCATE
“I believe you are right, Marjorie.” Miss Susanna’s hands were trembling
slightly as she opened the notebook and read aloud the first entry.
“‘Thought of a new motto today. “Her ways led upward to the stars.”
Note: This motto should be particularly applicable to the “one” whom I
hope may rise, a future guiding light to Hamilton College.’”
“Why—why—that’s my motto.” Marjorie was looking her utter amazement. “I
mean—” Sudden confusion deepened the pink in her cheeks to rose. “It’s
the one you selected for me for citation, Goldendede,” she added in
embarrassed explanation.
“It’s the one that suited you best, so don’t feel backward about coming
forward and saying so,” Leslie assured with her slow smile.
“Of course it suited her,” chimed in Miss Susanna. “You know, Leslie,
I’ve always said that Marjorie typified Uncle Brooke’s ideal of
girlhood.”
“Wouldn’t you like to read us some more notes, Goldendede?” Marjorie
asked persuasively.
“And thus take the subject off your very retiring self,” the old lady
supplemented pithily. “Very good, my dear.” Miss Hamilton turned the
first leaf and read out to her two avid listeners, “‘Must have Jenkins
retake my foot measurements. Last pair of boots he made me are a
fraction too narrow. Don’t forget to do this. Important.’”
A ripple of laughter greeted this entry.
“From the sublime to the vexatious problems of everyday life,” commented
Miss Susanna. She continued to read aloud the annotations of her famous
kinsman. Short, and to the point, they revealed clearly the character of
Brooke Hamilton—philosopher, sage, philanthropist, and lastly,
unassuming country gentleman.
“This must be the book Uncle Brooke lost not more than a year before his
death. He was greatly annoyed by the loss, and used to hunt for it by
the hour. Many of the annotations contained dates which he could not
remember, offhand. And to think that it’s been tucked away all these
years in the Epictitus! Strange he didn’t find it again soon after he
had lost it.” Miss Hamilton knitted thoughtful brows. “Ah, now I recall
something that may have been the very reason he didn’t. A friend gave
him a very fine copy of Epictitus on his birthday. He placed the new
copy on his desk, in his study. It was in a much larger print than the
other, and his eyes had begun to fail him considerably then.”
Miss Susanna turned leaf upon leaf of the notebook, reading aloud to her
interested audience of two as she turned them. “There, I knew I was
right about that.” She looked up triumphantly from the book, then read,
“‘Have decided to offer the fifty-thousand conditional gift to Hamilton
through the medium of “the one who may arise” in my college. I shall ask
Norris to handle the matter for me. I can rely upon him for integrity,
and at the same time be of financial service to him since he is hard put
at present in his law business. I shall go to his office to talk things
over with him tomorrow.’”
“This little book is a precious find to me, girls.” Miss Hamilton’s
hands were trembling with the excitement of what she had just read.
“Uncle Brooke had sometimes spoken vaguely to me of some such plan he
had in mind for the college, but I never knew whether, or no, he had put
it into execution. This annotation tells me that he must have done so.
Once he had put his hand to the plow, he never turned back.”
The abstracted light in the old lady’s eyes spelled her absorbed
listeners to silence. They continued to watch her as she turned the next
leaf, waiting to hear more from her at will. The time-yellowed leaves of
the note book continued to turn under her small fingers. She was
evidently in search of further data concerning her kinsman’s avowed
project.
“Ah; here it is!” she exclaimed. “‘Saw Norris last Tuesday. Have
completed arrangements with him for the “Brooke Hamilton Honor Fund.”
For particulars and necessary accompanying papers, see secret drawer.’”
“The secret drawer!” Marjorie cried. “It is in Mr. Brooke’s study desk,
isn’t it? Didn’t you say once to me that there was a secret drawer in
the desk?”
“Yes,” An oddly puzzled frown had sprung between Miss Hamilton’s brows.
“I don’t understand what Uncle Brooke meant. There is nothing in the
secret drawer in his study desk. I know that positively because Jonas
and I examined it quite a long time after Uncle’s death. Jonas knew how
to open it. I hadn’t known until he showed me. There were a few letters
in it then, which I turned over to you, Marjorie, together with other
material for the biography. None of those letters related to either this
man Norris, or the honor fund. Please ring for Jonas, Leslie. He may
know of another secret drawer here. I surely do not.” Miss Susanna
looked nonplussed.
“Who is, or, more likely was, the man Norris to whom he intrusted the
matter?” Leslie asked in her keen fashion. “If living, he would be a
very old man now.”
“I don’t know who he is, or was, as the case may he,” Miss Hamilton
replied, a note of distress in her answer. “According to Uncle Brooke’s
notes he is, or was, a lawyer. I know of no lawyer, however, by the name
of Norris, who was practicing law in the town of Hamilton at that time.”
She shook a puzzled head.
Jonas just then appearing in the library doorway, Miss Hamilton turned
eagerly to him, “Jonas, do you know of another secret drawer here at the
Arms besides the one in Uncle Brooke’s study desk?”
Jonas came forward without answering the question, his white brows
contracted in an evident effort at recollection.
“I don’t know _where_ there is another secret drawer at the Arms,” he
said slowly, “but it seems to me I once heard Mr. Brooke speak of one. I
can’t think now, when, or why, he spoke about it. Maybe it’ll come back
to me after a while. I only think that he _did_ speak of it to me,” the
old houseman ended with certainty.
“Marjorie found Uncle Brooke’s notebook; the one he lost, and worried
about losing.” Miss Hamilton held up the little black book, relating to
Jonas in an excited voice the circumstances of the finding and the
important information it contained concerning the “Honor Fund.”
Jonas’s fine old features registered marked surprise. “_He_ talked to me
about that honor fund, different times,” he said, an excited note in his
own voice. “He must have put his idea through, or he wouldn’t have
written that in the notebook.”
“Do you recall a lawyer in Hamilton by the name of Norris, Jonas?” Miss
Susanna had fixed hopeful eyes on Jonas.
“No,” Jonas answered after due deliberation. “I never heard Mr. Brooke
mention any such man, either. He must have lived there, though, or in
some near-by town. Mr. Brooke said in the note you just read me that he
was going to this man Norris’s office the next day to see him.”
“Yes,” the old lady nodded, “I wish you to go to Hamilton town this
afternoon, Jonas, and see John Saxe. He knows everybody in the town and
around it. Ask him to look up this man Norris, if he can, as soon as
possible. It was his business to write me concerning this trust directly
after Uncle Brooke’s death. Possibly he thought I knew the situation
regarding it. Nevertheless, he should have communicated with me, at any
rate. He must have been living then. If he had died before Uncle Brooke
died Uncle would have made a new arrangement with another lawyer about
the fund.”
“Perhaps he may have done so, and any data which might relate to the
change of lawyers is in the secret drawer, too,” Marjorie suggested.
“And we haven’t the remotest idea of where that mysterious secret drawer
may be!” Miss Susanna’s small hands went up in a despairing gesture.
“Some Chinese puzzle,” Leslie commented.
“Maybe the secret drawer is somewhere in the Chinese room,” came as a
sudden inspiration from Marjorie, prompted by Leslie’s mention of the
word “Chinese.”
“It may be there.” Miss Hamilton cast a half startled glance at her
companions. “The room has a number of odd Oriental stands and cabinets,
any one of them might easily contain a secret drawer. To find it,
though!” Up went her hands again. “A needle-in-the-haystack search, I’m
afraid. I know less about the Chinese room than any other room in the
house. Jonas is far more familiar with it than I. You’ll have to be
chief hunter, there, Jonas.”
“I guess I will.” Jonas looked pleased at being thus appointed to the
search.
“One thing is certain. The secret drawer _must_ be found. It is
somewhere in this house which narrows down the area to be searched to
the few rooms Uncle Brooke continually used,—his bedroom, his study, the
Chinese room and the library. Of the four, I should say the library is
the least likely to contain it. The only piece of furniture in here that
might contain it is the library table. I doubt the possibility of there
being a secret drawer in it.”
Miss Susanna rose, went over to the massive, claw-legged mahogany table,
and began a slow prowl about it, her sharp eyes taking in its every
detail. Jonas had already begun the search, tapping the sides of the
table as he peered along the carvings of them for what might prove to be
a cunningly concealed spring. He opened the drawers of the table,
subjecting the inside of them to the same careful examination.
“There’s no secret drawer in this table,” was his opinion, spoken at the
end of his methodical investigation.
“I’m satisfied, too, there isn’t,” agreed the mistress of the Arms.
“Tomorrow, Jonas, we will tackle the study. There may be another secret
drawer in the study desk besides the one of which we know. This
afternoon I want you to go to Hamilton and see what you can learn
regarding Lawyer Norris. If we should be lucky enough to find the secret
drawer within the next few days it won’t be necessary to start an
investigation, regarding the fifty thousand dollars involved in this
affair. The one note plainly states Uncle Brooke’s intention of offering
a fifty thousand dollar honorarium to Hamilton College under certain
conditions, laid down by him. The note of later date states that he
completed some sort of arrangement for it with Lawyer Norris. As a trust
fund the fifty thousand would have, probably, been deposited in bank at
once by Norris. Uncle Brooke used the Hamilton Trust largely, although
he was a depositor in several New York City banks. If he gave his check
for the honor fund to Norris, together with instructions to him to
deposit the check, it may be the Hamilton Bank was used for the
transaction. In such case the bank should have the record of the
transaction. If so, why was I not notified of it soon after Uncle
Brooke’s death?” Miss Susanna’s question was asked with hurt
belligerence.
“An arrangement entire separate from your kinsman’s other financial
affairs may have been made by him with Norris,” Leslie hazarded. “His
notes state his confidence in Norris. No doubt then he made the check
out to Norris. Of course he might have given him bonds instead.”
“He had no bonds at the time he sent for Norris. His large fortune was
almost all in cash or in real estate. His father left him a great deal
of land, in and about Hamilton, and Hamilton Estates. I’d prefer not to
call the Hamilton Trust into the matter, though we may find it necessary
in the long run to do so.”
“Surely, if the Hamilton Bank had been asked to handle the check you
would have heard something about the matter, either directly, or
indirectly, during all the years you have lived at the Arms,” was
Leslie’s further opinion.
“I’m inclined to that view of it, too. I doubt if the Hamilton Bank is
in any way concerned in this Norris business.”
“Why not let my father investigate for you?” proposed Leslie. “He’s
coming to Hamilton to see me for a day or two, soon after he lands. If,
by that time, you haven’t found the secret drawer, then please let my
father help you in the matter, Miss Susanna,” Leslie earnestly
petitioned.
“Peter? I never once thought of him!” Miss Susanna exclaimed,
brightening visibly. “He’s the very man I need to help me. I should be
eternally grateful to him, if he would.”
“He will,” Leslie promised.
“There’s more to this than appears on the surface.” Miss Hamilton’s lips
set themselves in severe line. “Granted we find the secret drawer, the
finding of the data relating to the honor fund may only serve to prove
treachery to his trust on Lawyer Norris’s part. As heir to my uncle’s
fortune and estate, Hamilton Arms, he at least owed it to me to inform
me of the trust Uncle Brooke had reposed in him.”
“Possibly he was under the impression that you knew of the
fifty-thousand dollar fund through your uncle, and had been instructed
by Mr. Brooke to assume the responsibility of choosing ‘the one’ in the
event of his death,” Marjorie made meditative suggestion. “In such case,
he might wait for you to communicate with him regarding it.”
“I’ll admit such a contingency,” the old lady conceded rather
reluctantly. “We’re all at sea in the matter, it seems. Either Norris,
or else the secret drawer, must be found; both preferably.”
“This much seems certain, Lawyer Norris was not commissioned by Mr.
Brooke to choose ‘the one’ in the event of Mr. Brooke’s decease,”
Marjorie said.
“I’m not so sure of that.” Miss Susanna showed inclination toward
distrust of the lawyer. “Uncle Brooke never did things by halves. You
must remember, this particular transaction was made less than two years
before his death. He was then over eighty years old. He knew his end was
near. He had often said as much to me. I believe he would have appointed
me to choose ‘the one’; not the man Norris. I knew Uncle; his hopes,
dreams; ideals, and he knew that I knew them. I can’t understand why he
did not confide in me at the time he formulated a definite plan.” Her
voice trembled a trifle on the last words, the manifestation of a hurt
spirit.
“I’ve no doubt but that the lost papers may hold an explanation of
that,” Marjorie advanced comfortingly, “and they’re tucked away
somewhere in this very house. Somehow, I have faith in Lawyer Norris.
Mr. Brooke would not have chosen him for such an important
responsibility if he hadn’t been sure of his truth and honor.
“Uncle Brooke’s staunchest advocate.” Miss Susanna drew Marjorie,
standing beside her, into the circle of an arm. “If neither the papers,
nor Lawyer Norris should be found, I could still carry out his wish. The
important point to be considered, after all, would not be the fifty
thousand dollars. The finding of ‘the one’ would be the real problem,
except—” her eyes came to rest with luminous tenderness upon the lovely
face bent seriously upon her,—“the one has already been found. I found
her for Uncle Brooke, long ago, not far from my gates. She helped a very
cranky old lady pick up an overturned basket of plant pots, and showed
her how beautiful girlhood might be. Afterward, I came to know her
better, not only as a friend, but as an inspiration to Uncle Brooke’s
college, giving her best to it because of her appreciation of its
founder. He chose the motto ‘Her ways led upward toward the stars,’ as
applicable to ‘the one.’ Without knowing it I chose the same motto as
best suited to Marjorie. It is almost as though I had received his
direct approval of my choice.”
------------------------------------------------------------------------