IN WHICH JOHNNY MEETS A DEFENDER OF THE OLD ARISTOCRACY
Johnny, whose sources of information were many and varied, called on a
certain Miss Purry the very next morning, taking along Val Russel to
introduce him.
"Any friend of Mr. Russel's is welcome, I am sure," declared Miss
Purry, passing a clammy wedge of a hand to Johnny, who felt the chill
in his palm creeping down his spine. "Of the Maryland Gambles?"
"No, White Roads," replied Johnny cheerfully. Miss Purry's chiseled
smile remained, but it was not the same. "I came to see you about that
vacant building site, just beyond the adjoining property."
Miss Purry shook her head,
"I'm afraid I could not even consider selling it without a very
specific knowledge of its future." And her pale green eyes took on a
slightly deeper hue.
Val Russel stifled a sly grin.
"This was once a very aristocratic neighborhood," he informed Johnny
with well-assumed sorrow. "Miss Purry is the last of the fine old
families to keep alive the traditions of the district. Except for her
influence, the new-rich have vulgarized the entire locality."
"Thank you," cooed Miss Purry. "I could not have said that myself, but
I can't hinder Mr. Russel from saying it. Nearly all of my neighbors
tried to buy the riverview plot, about which you have come to see me;
but I did not care to sell--to them."
Her emphasis on the last two words was almost imperceptible, but it was
there; and her reminiscent satisfaction was so complete that Johnny,
who had known few women, was perplexed.
"If all the old families had been as careful the Bend would not have
deteriorated," Val stated maliciously, knowing just how to encourage
her. "However, the new-comers are benefited by Miss Purry's
resolve--particularly Mrs. Slosher. The Sloshers are just on the other
side of the drive from the vacant property, and they have almost as
good a river view as if they had been able to purchase it and build
upon it in the first place."
The green of Miss Purry's eyes deepened another tone.
"Mr. Slosher, who is now in Europe, was almost brutal in his
determination to purchase the property," she stated with painful
repression. "The present Mrs. Slosher is a pretty doll, and he is
childishly infatuated with her; but his millions can not buy everything
she demands."
Ignorant of social interplay as Johnny Gamble was, he somehow divined
that William G. Slosher's doll was the neighborhood reason for
everything.
"If you were only certain of what you intend to build there--" she
suggested, to break the helpless silence.
"I have an apartment-house in mind," he told her.
"That would be very large and very high, no doubt," she guessed,
looking pleased.
"It's the only kind that would pay," Johnny Gamble hastily assured her.
"It would be expensive--no suite less than three thousand a year and
nobody allowed to do anything."
"I'll consider the matter," she said musingly.
"What about the price?" asked Johnny, whose mind had been fixed upon
that important detail.
"Oh, yes--the price," agreed Miss Purry indifferently; "I've been
holding it at two hundred thousand. I shall continue to hold it at that
figure."
"Then that's the price," decided Johnny. "Can't we come to an agreement
now?"
"To-morrow afternoon at three," she dryly insisted.
He saw that she meant to-morrow afternoon at three.
"Can't I arrange with you for a twenty-four-hour option?" he begged,
becoming anxious.
"I shall not bind myself in any way," she declared. "To-morrow
afternoon at three."
"That's a beautiful piece of property," commented Johnny as they drove
by. "By George, the apartment-house will shut those people off from the
river!"
"That's the only reason she'd be willing to sell," replied Val. "What
set you hunting up this property?"
"The De Luxe Apartments Company intends confining its operations to
this quarter. They'll go scouting among the listed properties
first--and they may not find this one until I am asking them two
hundred and fifty for it."
That afternoon, Johnny, always prompt, was ahead of time at the final
committee meeting of the Babies' Fund Fair, but Constance Joy did not
seem in the least surprised at his punctuality.
"I was in hopes you'd come early," she greeted him. "I want to show you
the score board of your game."
"Honest, did you make one?" he asked, half-incredulous of his good
fortune, as she led the way into the library; and his eyes further
betrayed his delight when she showed him the score board itself.
"See," she pointed out, "you were to make five thousand dollars an hour
for two hundred working hours, beginning on April twenty-second and
ending May thirty-first."
Johnny examined the board with eager interest. It was ruled into tiny
squares, forty blocks long and seven deep.
"I want to frame that when we're through," he said, admiring the
perfect drawing.
"Suppose you lose?" she suggested, smiling to herself at his
unconscious use of the word "we".
"No chance," he stoutly returned. "I have to paste a
five-thousand-dollar bill in each one of those blocks."
"You've kept your paste brush busy," she congratulated him, marveling
anew at how he had done it, as she glanced at the record which she had
herself set down. "I have the little squares crossed off up to two
hundred and sixty-five thousand dollars."
"The money's in Loring's bank," he cheerfully assured her. "That pays
me up to next Tuesday, May second, at two o'clock. This is two o'clock,
Thursday. I have twenty-four working hours to loaf."
"Lazy!" she bantered him. "That isn't loafing time; it's only a safety
margin."
Her eagerness about it pleased Johnny very much. When he had his
million he intended to ask her to marry him; and it was pleasant to
have her, all unaware of his purpose, of course, taking such an acute
interest in this big game.
"If a man plays too safe he goes broke," objected Johnny seriously,
still intent on the diagram, however. "I notice that none of these
Sundays or Saturday afternoons have money in them. According to my plan
I also allowed for two possible holidays; but why are those two special
days left white?"
"Well," hesitated Constance, flushing slightly, "May thirtieth is
Decoration Day; and then I allowed for a possible birthday."
"Birthday?" he repeated, perplexed. "Whose?"
"Oh, anybody's," she hastily assured him. "You can move the date to
suit. You know you said you weren't going to work on Sundays, evenings,
holidays or birthdays."
"I have but one birthday this year, and it comes in the fall," he
answered, laughing; then suddenly a dazzling light blinded him. "It's
the score keeper's!" he guessed.
In spite of all her efforts to prevent it Constance blushed furiously.
"I had intended to give a little party on the nineteenth," she
confessed.
"I'm coming!" he emphatically announced.
Aunt Pattie Boyden swept into the room, and Johnny immediately felt
that he had on tight shoes. He had once made a fatal error before Aunt
Pattie; he had confessed to having been a voter before he owned a dress
suit.
Paul Gresham arrived, and Aunt Pattie was as the essence of violets.
Paul, though American-born, was a second cousin of Lord Yawpingham.
Johnny and Paul sat and inwardly barked at each other. Johnny almost
barked outwardly.
Val Russel and Bruce Townley came, and everybody breathed a sigh of
relief.
"Well, Johnny," said Val, "I just now saw your newest speculation
driving down the Avenue in a pea-green gown and a purple hat."
"I never had a speculation like that," denied Johnny.
"Sounds like a scandal," decided Bruce Townley.
"You might as well tell it, Val," laughed Constance with a mischievous
glance at Johnny.
"It hasn't gone very far as yet," replied Val, enjoying Johnny's
discomfort, "but it promises well. Johnny and I called upon a wealthy
spinster, away upon Riverside Drive, this morning, ostensibly to buy
real estate."
Val, leaning his cheek upon his knuckles with his middle finger upon
his temple, imitated Miss Purry's languishing air so perfectly that
Aunt Pattie and Gresham, both of whom knew the lady, could see her in
the flesh--or at least in the bone.
"'Ostensible' is a good word in that neighborhood," opined Gresham
lightly. "Were you trying to buy Miss Purry's vacant riverfront
property?"
Notwithstanding his seeming nonchalance, Gresham betrayed an earnest
interest which Constance noted, and she turned to Johnny with a quick
little shake of her head, but he was already answering, and she frowned
slightly.
Mrs. Follison arrived, and after her the rest of the committee came
trooping by twos and threes,--a bright, busy, chattering mob which
stopped all personal conversation.
Last of all came Polly Parsons, accompanied by Ashley Loring and Sammy
Chirp, and by the fluffy little orphan whom she had been keeping in
school for the last three years.
"I know I'm late," declared Polly defiantly; "but I don't adopt a
sister every day. I stopped at Loring's office to do it, and I'm so
proud I'm cross-eyed. Sister Winnie, shake hands with everybody and
then run out in the gardens with Sammy."
Dutifully, Winnie, in her new role of sister, shook hands with
everybody and clenched their friendship with her wide blue eyes and her
ingenuous smile; and, dutifully, Sammy Chirp, laden with her sun-hat
and parasol and fan, her vanity box and lace hand-bag, took her out
into the gardens, and the proceedings began as they usually did when
Polly Parsons arrived. Subcommittees took cheerful and happy possession
of the most comfortable locations they could find, and Constance Joy
walked Ashley Loring out through the side porch.
"There's a very cozy and retired seat in the summer-house," she
informed him. "I wish to have a tete-a-tete with you on a most
important business matter."
"You may have a tete-a-tete with me on any subject whatsoever," laughed
Loring. "I suppose it's about those Johnny Gamble attachments, however."
"It's about that exactly," she acknowledged. "What have you learned of
the one for fifty thousand dollars which was attempted to be laid
against Mr. Gamble's interest in that hotel property yesterday?"
"Very little," he confessed. "It is of the same sort as the one we
discussed the other day."
Constance nodded. "Fraudulent, probably," she guessed.
"I think so myself," agreed Loring. "Trouble is, nobody can locate the
Gamble-Collaton books."
"Perhaps they have been destroyed," mused Constance.
"I doubt it," returned Loring. "It would seem the sensible thing to do;
but, through some curious psychology which I can not fathom, crooks
seldom make away with documentary evidence."
"Who is helping Mr. Collaton?" asked Constance abruptly after a little
silence.
"I do not know," answered Loring promptly, looking her squarely in the
eye.
"Some one of our mutual acquaintance," she persisted shrewdly. "Twice,
now, attachments have been served on Mr. Gamble when the news of his
having attachable property could only have come from our set."
They had turned the corner of the lilac screen and found a little
summer-house occupied by Sammy and Winnie, and the low mellow voice of
Winnie was flowing on and on without a break.
"It's the darlingest vanity purse I ever saw," she babbled. "Sister
Polly bought it for me this morning. She's the dearest dear in the
world! I don't wonder you're so crazy about her. How red your hand is
next to mine! Madge Cunningham says that I have the whitest and
prettiest hands of any girl in school--and she's made a special study
of hands. Isn't that the cunningest sapphire ring? Sister Polly sent it
to me on my last birthday; so now you know what month I was born in.
Jeannette Crawley says it's just the color of my eyes. She writes
poetry. She wrote some awfully sweet verses about my hair. 'The regal
color of the flaming sun', she called it. She's dreadfully romantic;
but the poor child's afraid she will never have a chance on account of
her snub nose. We thought her nose was cute though. Miss Grazie, our
professor of ancient history, said my nose was of the most perfect
Greek profile she had ever seen--just like that on the features of
Clytie, and with just as delicately formed nostrils. We set the
funniest trap for her once. Somebody always told the principal when we
were going to sneak our fudge nights, and we suspected it was one of
the ugly girls--they're always either the sweetest or the meanest girls
in school, you know. We had a signal for it, of course--one finger to
the right eye and closing the left; and one day, when we were planning
for a big fudge spree that night, I saw Miss Grazie watching us pass
the sign. There isn't much escapes my eyes. Sure enough, that night
Miss Porley made a raid. Well, on Thursday, Madge Cunningham and
myself, without saying a word to anybody, stayed in Miss Grazie's room
after class and gave each--other the fudge signal; and sure enough,
that night--"
Constance and Loring tiptoed away, leaving the bewildered Sammy smiling
feebly into the eyes of Winnie and floundering hopelessly in the maze
of her information.
"I have it," declared Constance. "That lovely little chatterbox has
given me an idea."
"Is it possible?" chuckled Loring. "Poor Sammy!"
"He was smiling," laughed Constance. "Here comes the chairman of the
floor-walkers' committee."
Gresham, always uneasy in the absence of Constance, who was too
valuable a part of his scheme of life to be left in charge of his
friends, had come into the garden after them on the pretext of
consulting the general committee.
"Do you know anything about the Garfield Bank?" Constance asked Gresham
in the first convenient pause.
"It is very good as far as I have heard," he replied after careful
consideration. "Are there any rumors out against it?"
"Quite the contrary," she hastily assured him. "It is so convenient,
however, that I had thought of opening a small account there. Mr.
Gamble transferred his funds to that bank to-day--and if he can trust
them with over two hundred and fifty thousand dollars I should think I
might give them my little checking account."
When they were alone again Loring turned to her in surprise.
"I have Johnny's money in my name. I didn't know he had opened an
account with the Garfield Bank," he wondered.
"Neither did I," she laughed. "I told a fib! I laid a trap!"