A SENTIMENTAL INTEREST
“And you say John Saxe doesn’t know who owns those Kenton Street
properties. That’s strange.” Peter Cairns’ alert dark features
registered a mixture of surprise and doubt. “He should know.”
“I’m convinced that he doesn’t,” Hal Macy returned. “He told me the
owner of them transacted all business pertaining to them through an
agent, who refused to tell him the owner’s name. The agent told Mr. Saxe
that the owner was not keen about selling them, but might consider one
hundred, fifty thousand for them.”
“Ridiculous. I wouldn’t give a penny over forty thousand for them, and
that’s a very fair figure,” the financier declared with slightly
contemptuous finality.
“I offered fifty thousand for them, through Saxe. I hardly thought them
worth more than that. The site is worth far more than are the houses.
They are ramshackle, with practically no modern conveniences. It has
been my idea to buy them, have the houses torn down, and, in their
stead, erect modern two-story dwellings with all modern conveniences.
These properties extend along the south side of the street for almost
two blocks. The families who live in the rickety houses have been there
for years, and are among the really deserving poor of Hamilton. As a
staid, conservative college town Hamilton has little commercial or
industrial interest. There is little work for the laboring man in and
about the town at present. The shutting down of two or three of the few
manufactories in Hamilton has made wage-earning a problem. I have talked
with some of these poor fellows and have found their conditions
deplorable. With no steady work, and a high rental to pay, to say
nothing of the present high cost of living, the majority of them are
hard pressed. I should like, at least, to see them in comfortable
houses, at a more moderate rental than they are now obliged to pay.”
Hal’s eyes had strayed from Peter Cairns’ strong face to that of his
Violet girl, confident of her sympathetic approval. They two, Leila and
Vera, Leslie and her father had dined that evening at the Arms with Miss
Susanna and were now gathered in the library for a confidential session.
Peter Cairns had arrived in Hamilton on the day before and was Miss
Susanna’s guest. He had come in prompt response to her letter containing
the affectionate mandate, “Peter, I want you to drop everything else and
come to the Arms. I must see you.” Hal, still hugging his mysterious
secret to his heart, had been equally anxious to see the financier. He
had also pinned his faith upon Peter Cairns to ascertain for him the
identity of the owner of the properties.
Listening to the discussion between Miss Susanna and the financier
regarding the possibilities of locating Lawyer Norris, if living, or
of obtaining the much desired information regarding the
fifty-thousand-dollar Honor Fund should the attorney be deceased, Hal
was more than ever convinced of Peter Cairns’ brilliant capabilities.
His terse assurance: “I’ll attend to it for you, Miss Susanna, though
it may take a little time to trace Norris,” had served to strengthen
Hal’s belief in him.
“And _that_ is the surprise you’ve been hiding from me,” Marjorie’s face
was radiant. “I love it, and you, too, bushels and bushels,” she
finished childishly.
“I knew you would.” Hal’s answering smile was like a caress. He tore his
eyes reluctantly from his wife’s lovely face to explain boyishly to the
others, “I’m a man without a job, you know, and it worries me, as much,
maybe, as being out of work worries those poor fellows on Kenton Street.
The only difference between us is that of money. They haven’t enough. I
have too much. My grandfather left me a whole lot of money. A great
uncle of mine left me a lot more. I’d like to use some of it to help the
other fellow. Marjorie and I are so happy, I’d like to see others happy,
too, because of it. I can’t see being a country gentleman with a stable
full of fine horses, hunting dogs, and all that sort of thing. I want to
keep going, in a way that will benefit others. Marjorie taught me the
glory of work. Now I’d like best of all to show her how well I’ve
learned my lesson.”
“Hal!” Came a flash of white, and Marjorie had perched herself upon the
arm of Hal’s chair, her soft lips pressed against his cheek, a bare,
clinging arm about his neck.
“You have your reward,” Peter Cairns said gallantly. Unconsciously his
eyes strayed past the married lovers to Leila. Happening to meet the
financier’s glance, Leila felt the color rise in her cheeks. She
instantly looked away, self-vexed. Their glances had merely chanced to
meet, was her annoyed thought. Deep in her heart, however, she was
conscious of a growing admiration for the clean-cut, keen-eyed finance
king.
Leslie, always a close observer, had missed neither the exchange of
glances nor the quick-leaping color to Leila’s cheeks. She smiled to
herself, as though vastly amused by some sudden amusing thought of her
own.
“It is the one reward worth gaining.” Hal’s right arm had wrapped itself
about Marjorie’s waist.
“You two children have the best,” Miss Susanna’s brisk intonation had
softened to gentleness. “You can well afford to be money-generous. So
can I, for that matter. I’m rich in devoted friends, too. I’d like to
join in this welfare enterprise of yours, Hal, if you’ll permit me.”
“This is the best news I’ve heard since Marjorie told me that she loved
me bushels and bushels.” Hal’s handsome features were smiling anew.
“Why not let Leslie and me into it, too?” Peter Cairns demanded.
“The Marjorie Dean Macy Welfare Colony,” suggested Leslie. “How’s that
for a name?”
“_No, indeed_,” Marjorie made lively objection. “Either the Susanna
Hamilton, or the Peter Cairns Welfare Colony would sound much better.”
“Not a bit of it,” sturdily objected Miss Susanna. “Leslie has the right
idea. We are all here together tonight, the best of friends, because of
Marjorie’s interest, direct or indirect, in us when we were practically
strangers to one another.”
“_Ain’t it the truth?_” Leslie agreed in a tone of awed wonder that set
them all laughing.
“We are really Marjorie’s own colony. Don’t attempt to deny it, young
lady,” Miss Hamilton shook a playfully reproving finger at Marjorie,
“nor try to disown us.”
“As though I could.” Marjorie slipped from the arm of Hal’s chair and
went over to sit on that of Miss Susanna.
“I’ll try again,” Leslie said humorously. “Since Marjorie and Miss
Susanna both object to having our new colony named for them, and I know
Peter the Great will object to the honor, the minute he can get a word
in, why not call it the Hamilton Colony?”
“Yes; of course, that is so much better,” Marjorie laughingly seconded.
“I didn’t think you’d go back on me, Leslie.” This time Miss Susanna’s
finger shook itself at Leslie.
“I haven’t. I’m only trying to please everybody here, and not getting
away with it,” Leslie assured with an enjoying grin.
“It all goes back to Mr. Brooke, Goldendede. Hamilton was his native
town. If such a condition as Hal has just described to us had existed in
Hamilton in his day, he would have tried to remedy it, as we hope to
do,” Marjorie made soulful argument. “I’d like to think of it as his
colony, all of us working together under the inspiring name of
Hamilton.”
“I’m not proof against such an argument. You know my weak spot, and have
taken advantage of it, bad child.” Miss Susanna drew Marjorie into the
curve of her arm. “Well, we’ll see about it. Now let us leave the naming
of our colony until later. While Peter goes on the trail of information,
Hal shall take us down to Kenton Street for a look at the properties. If
only we could find that aggravating secret drawer we could straighten
this Honor Fund matter out like magic.” She heaved an impatient sigh.
“You will one day find it in the last place you might expect it to be,
and that is but poor consolation,” Leila prognosticated.
“What I should call encouragement from a purely Celtic standpoint,” Vera
said teasingly.
“Just like that,” Leslie joined Vera in teasing Leila.
“But for these two, I could lead a peaceful life,” Leila complained
resignedly.
“The three of you had better come over to the Arms on Saturday for the
week-end. I’ll set you to hunting the secret drawer in separate rooms.
Then you won’t be disturbed, Leila.” Miss Susanna surveyed the trio with
twinkling eyes. “I daresay, however, that I’ll find the three of you all
hob-nobbing cheerfully together in one room before the day is over,” she
mischievously predicted.
“Something like that _might_ happen,” Leila conceded with her widest
smile, “I am so kind-hearted.”
Peter Cairns and Miss Susanna exchanged sympathetically droll glances as
they listened to the lively repartee that went on for a little among the
three chums.
“The best is ours, Peter,” the old lady said softly to him with a quick
sidelong nod toward Leslie.
“I know it,” was his fervent response as he looked with fond pride at
his daughter’s laughter-bright face. Again his eyes strayed to Leila who
was indulging in what she characterized as “a fit of Irish glee.” She
and Leslie were evidently the best of friends. He wondered, if, in the
dim future, there might come a time when he—. He had been interested in
Leila almost since first meeting. He had sternly dismissed the
sentimental thought that invariably sprang into his brain each time he
saw the clever Irish girl.
“Peter,” Miss Susanna’s voice broke in upon his nearly sentimental
meditation, “I wish you’d come and take a look about the Chinese room.
You’ve traveled in the Orient and know a good deal about the secret ways
of the Orientals. Your knowledge of Chinese things may steer you
straight to the secret drawer.”
“Are we invited to go along?” Marjorie inquired plaintively.
“Of course, goose, we’ll all go, and do a little hunting. I believe in
making my guests useful,” laughed the old lady.
The searchers trooped merrily into the Chinese room, volubly voicing
their hope that the financier might hit upon the hiding-place of the
secret drawer. For an hour they busied themselves diligently, running
their hands over the various pieces of teakwood furniture, and pressing
upon spots of it that suggested even remotely the presence of a secret
mechanism.
At the end of an hour, however, they had come no nearer to finding the
too-well-concealed drawer than when they had begun the search. Even the
financier admitted himself as baffled on first hunt.
“I’m coming up to the Hedge before Thanksgiving to get it ready for
occupancy. If you haven’t found the drawer by that time, I’ll have
another go at it. Meantime, while I’m hunting Norris, let the girls help
you keep up the search here. I have a lively hunch that we shall find
Norris, or possibly his heirs, and the drawer, too, _and_,” his dark
features set themselves with stubborn determination, “I propose to leave
nothing undone toward making that hunch come true.”
------------------------------------------------------------------------