Williams ought to have known that whenever Meyer wanted a title searched
he shopped with it until competition eliminated the margin of profit.
But whether he knew this or not it was perfectly plain that there was no
money in the East Broadway work at the figures he agreed upon. However,
year after year the legal arena is gladdened by the advent of certain
rosy-cheeked, enthusiastic youths who fancy they can change the instinct
of Chatham Square and acquire control of big real estate operators like
Meyer, through the simple expedient of doing some of their work for
nothing. Moreover, each newcomer thinks he has evolved an entirely novel
plan for working up a practice. At first I thought Williams was one of
these delightfully optimistic individuals, but subsequent events have
demonstrated there was more method in his madness.
Williams was in love with Miss Thornton. Everybody knew it, though, as
Parsons said, Miss Thornton didn't seem to know it by heart. The more
fool she, I thought, for Williams was a first-rate fellow and a far
better man than that doll-faced, shallow chit had any right to expect. I
admit it isn't very gallant to speak of a girl in this way, but I
sometimes think a little plain truth about the fair sex would make them
more fair. Miss Thornton had prettiness enough of a certain kind, she
wore her gowns well and looked the girl of good breeding that she was.
But beyond that--well, I never could see what made Williams so
desperately in love with her. Therefore when R. Castelez Forbes appeared
on the scene, though I sympathised with the discomforted swain, I could
not really feel very sorry for him.
Where R. Castelez Forbes came from was more or less of a mystery. Mrs.
Thornton told me she met him on the "Teutonic" and that he had been
"awfully kind" to Daisy and her during the passage. She had invited him
to spend a day or two in the Berkshires, and since then they had seen a
good deal of him. To my inquiry as to his business Mrs. Thornton replied
that he was "something in the manufacturing line" and she believed
"quite a rising young fellow." She was a hopelessly silly woman. Mr.
Thornton was an able man, but too easy going and good-natured to trouble
himself about the antecedents of Miss Daisy's callers.
It did not take much to frighten Williams off. He was sensitive as most
manly fellows are when in love. But had he possessed far more
self-confidence there was quite enough in the situation to have
discouraged him. Miss Thornton and Forbes were constantly together, and
although no engagement had been announced most people spoke of it as "an
understood thing."
Such was the situation when Meyer brought the East Broadway papers to
Williams and inquired his fee for searching the title.
Williams glanced at the contract of sale for a moment, turned to the
last deed in the Abstract and promptly named a figure so low that even
Meyer feared to ask for a reduction, although he did insist on the work
being finished in a week. The bargain was closed then and there, and
everybody who heard of it cursed Williams for cutting prices to a point
where neither he nor anyone else could hope to make money.
But the last item in the East Broadway Abstract would have explained to
the initiated why Williams undertook the work at losing rates, and it
certainly excused him for beginning his investigation of the title wrong
end foremost. This item read as follows:
} _Warranty Deed, F. & C._
_Reginald C. Forbes_, } _Dated May 1, 1887._
_To_ } _Ack. May 1, 1887._
_Beatrice Gordon Forbes_, } _Rec. May 2, 1887._
} _Cons. $1._
_Conveys premises under examination._
which meant that, at the date named, one Reginald C. Forbes had
transferred the East Broadway property to a woman named Forbes at a
nominal price. The contract of sale showed that this same Miss or Mrs.
Forbes had agreed to sell the property to Meyer.
Within ten minutes after he had received the papers, Williams was hot
upon the trail. Within an hour he had learned all he wished to know.
The Register's Office showed that the deed made by Reginald C. Forbes
was recorded at the request of Messrs. Harmon & Headly, and at their
offices Williams made his first inquiry.
"Yes, I know Mr. Forbes," replied Mr. Harmon--"at least, I did know
him. He was a client of mine some years ago. Why do you ask?"
Williams exhibited the Abstract and pointed out the deed in question.
"I recall the transaction," continued the old lawyer, after a moment's
thought. "Forbes conveyed the property to his wife for one dollar, in
consideration of her releasing him from alimony and dower rights.--Yes,
she obtained a divorce from him some time in '86 or '87. I think you'll
find her agreement on record, but perhaps Forbes didn't record it. I
haven't seen him for years, and don't know what's become of him.--Do I
remember what name the initial C stood for? Yes, I believe I do. It had
a Spanish sound. Something like Castilian. Castelez? Yes--that was it."
Williams thanked Mr. Harmon and went home to work his way through a maze
of tangled thoughts to the conclusion that his duty to his neighbour,
Miss Thornton, was to love her far better than himself.
His reasoning was something like this: Miss Thornton had been cruelly
deceived. She had honoured a scamp by receiving his attention. Perhaps
she had even given him her love. But in any case, humiliation was to be
her portion. The blow to her self-esteem she could not escape--but might
he not save her pride the lasting sting of even a partial publicity? How
could this best be done? To speak to a man of Forbes' character would be
a waste of words and give no protection to the girl. Mr. and Mrs.
Thornton were in Bermuda, and every moment's delay must add insult to
the injury. The girl's chaperone was a foolish hysterical old aunt whose
idea of action in emergency would probably begin and end in a telegram.
What if he undertook the task himself? He was a rival and she might not
believe him? There was no chance for disbelief. If she required
proofs--they were at hand. His knowledge of her humiliation would make
her hate the sight of his face, and she would never forget or forgive
it? He would still have saved her something of bitterness, and for this
there was no sacrifice he would not make.
Now I do not propose to argue that Williams took the wisest course even
if Mr. and Mrs. Thornton were in Bermuda--I am not prepared to say he
was not quixotic--I am ready to admit he was disqualified from acting
either as tale-bearer or guardian, but I do maintain that in taking
upon himself the responsibility of putting the girl in possession of the
facts, he showed far more moral courage than nine out of ten men would
display under similar circumstances.
Had Miss Thornton's mind been built upon broader lines, she would have
appreciated the admirable tact with which Williams handled the whole
subject and understood the delicacy and deference which disclosed the
truth so gradually that she seemed to discover it for herself. But Miss
Thornton's mind was somewhat self-centred, and as she heard his story
her pretty face showed nothing but its prettiness. She listened to the
words of the man, but took no note of his quiet, sympathetic tone.
Suddenly the situation dawned upon her. Her cheeks flushed, her hands,
which had been clasped behind her shapely head, fell, and she sat there
in the half light of the cozy drawing-room gazing before her without
seeing the pained and tenderly anxious glance of the man who stood
looking down at her.
"Good night, Miss Thornton.--Won't you even say good-bye?"
There was no answer from the girl who, with elbows on knees and her
chin in her hands, stared into the fading fire as though unconscious of
his presence.
"Good-bye, then, Miss Thornton, and--and God keep you--dear!"
Now it may be true, as her garrulous old aunt told me, that Miss
Thornton was discovered in the drawing-room that night weeping bitterly,
but if so, I venture to assert her tears were those of anger--the tears
of a spoilt child. However, the point is not what I think, but what
Williams thought. He left the Thorntons' house firmly convinced that he
had wholly failed in his mission and succeeded only in making the woman
he loved hate him. But as he lay awake brooding over the situation the
possibility presented itself that the girl might go to Forbes with the
story and assert her loyalty by offering to marry him then and there.
Such things had happened before. As he thought it over, the possibility
became a fear, and the fear a resolution to protect the girl, not only
against Forbes, but if necessary against herself. The step he took was
theoretically quite as impossible as his original action. But to attempt
the impossible is sometimes to achieve it.
Early the next morning Williams looked up Pierce & Butler, the attorneys
who had represented Mrs. Forbes in the divorce proceedings, obtained her
address, and straightway called upon the lady herself. His interview was
short, but at its close he made another extraordinary move. He
telegraphed Meyer that the East Broadway business was to be closed
within twenty-four hours. Seeing that he had not up to that time made
any adequate examination of the title, his action must have seemed
somewhat rash to his clerks--especially as he spent most of the
intervening hours, not at the Register's office, but in the building of
the green lamps on Mulberry Street known as Police Headquarters.
As a result of this, the first callers at Williams' offices on the
following morning were afforded singular accommodations. One of them was
stationed behind the portieres, another was supplied with a seat in a
closet, and another was ensconced in a coat-cupboard.
Then Williams sat down at the big table in the Title-closing room and
waited for Meyer and the other parties to the purchase and sale of the
property. They came promptly.
Meyer arrived first, accompanied by Jacobs, his confidential clerk, for
that prudent Hebrew never did anything without one of his own people
being present as a witness; then Mr. Winter, the real estate broker,
dropped in, and when finally Mr. August Stein, Attorney-at-law,
introduced himself and his client Mrs. Forbes. Williams showed no
surprise that Mr. Stein's client did not in any way resemble the Mrs.
Forbes he had interviewed only the day before.
Mr. Stein was a nervous, active little man who spoke in the sharp brisk
tones of one who has much to do and but little time to do it in.
"Now, Mr. Williams, you are all ready, I hope. I have another
appointment at 11.30. You found everything clear? Of course--of course.
It isn't everyone who can carry East Broadway property free and
clear.--No, indeed, Mrs. Forbes."
The attorney smiled approvingly at his client.
Williams studied the papers in his hand and answered without looking up.
"Everything is completed except the formality of identification. Of
course it's all right, but you know I have not had the pleasure of
meeting Mrs. Forbes and I don't think my client has----"
Meyer shook his head.
"Well, don't let's waste time on that," Mr. Stein interrupted, "you know
Mr. Winter here, and he will identify Mrs. Forbes to your satisfaction."
Williams glanced inquiringly at the broker whom he had known for a
couple of years.
"Do you identify this lady as the owner of this East Broadway property,
Mr. Winter?" he asked.
"Surely--surely," was the answer.
"How long have you known her, Mr. Winter?"
"Well, about--I should say--it must be--two years."
"Who introduced you--or how did you meet?"
"Now, Mr. Williams," interrupted Mr. Stein, "this is very interesting,
but it's wasting my time. All this should have been attended to before I
was summoned. I am a very busy man and you'll have to postpone the whole
matter until to-morrow. I really can't wait."
Mr. Stein began buttoning up his coat and reached for his hat.
Williams fumbled among his papers for a moment and drew forth an
affidavit.
"Perhaps we can save time with your aid. This is rather a large
transaction for me, so I have to go slowly. You will have no objection
to signing this affidavit of identification--will you, Mr. Stein?"
The attorney adjusted his glasses.
"It's not necessary, Sir," he remarked, merely glancing at the paper and
handing it back.--"It's not at all necessary. There is already
sufficient evidence to satisfy any reasonable man and we are not obliged
to satisfy you. It was your duty to have convinced yourself before the
time of closing."
"I didn't suppose you would have any objection to giving the proof
required."
"I don't know that there is any objection, but I've been closing real
estate titles all my life and I know my rights and don't intend to be
imposed upon."
"I'm not trying to impose upon you, my dear Sir."
"That's just what you are trying to do and I don't propose"--the lawyer
rose and began to gather up his papers.
"What is the matter, Mr. Stein? Why are you getting excited?"
"I'm not excited, Sir, but I propose to be treated with decent respect
and not like a shyster, and since you insist----"
"But I don't insist----" interrupted Williams. "Sit down, Mr. Stein."
----"Since you insist," persisted the lawyer, walking toward Mr. Meyer,
"I make a tender to your client of this deed----" he drew a document
from his pocket and handed it to Meyer's clerk.
"Sit down, Mr. Stein," repeated Williams sharply,--"unless you want me
to think you are seeking an excuse to break this contract.--Sit down at
once, Sir!--Mr. Jacobs--let me look at that deed."
The clerk handed the paper to him and Williams glanced at the signature.
"This is already signed and acknowledged before you as witness and
Notary, Mr. Stein. It is perfectly satisfactory. Let us proceed."
The attorney slowly sat down again and then laughed uneasily.
"I had completely forgotten that, Mr. Williams. Your insistence nettled
me for the moment and quite put it out of my head. A tempest in a
tea-pot--much ado about nothing, of course!--But rights are rights, you
know.--It's instinct with us lawyers to insist upon them, isn't it?"
"Mr. Meyer, kindly hand your check to this lady who will deliver her
deed," directed Williams, as he passed the paper to the woman.
Meyer beckoned the young lawyer to the window.
"Is everything all right?" he whispered, as he fumbled in his pocket for
the check, "are you sure?"
"Do as I tell you!" was the whispered answer, so sharp and savage that
the old man started and his cunning eyes flashed angrily. For a moment
he hesitated, gazing earnestly into the calm face of his counsel and
then turned suddenly and handed the check to the woman.
"Is that check certified? Let me see it!" cried Stein starting to his
feet. The woman handed it to him, at the same time delivering the deed
into Meyer's outstretched hand.
"Now what did you do that for?" Stein snapped angrily at his
client--"can't you wait----"
He stopped suddenly, for something clicked behind him and he turned just
in time to see Winter handcuffed and struggling in the arms of a
detective.
With a cry the fellow leaped across the long, narrow table, but as he
landed on the other side he found himself facing the muzzle of a
revolver pointing at him from the window curtains. Without a word he
threw up his hands, and as he did so passed the check into his mouth.
The movement did not escape Williams, and like a flash his revolver was
between the fellow's eyes.
"Spit it out," he said quietly. "Don't chew it! This revolver is
self-cocking! One--two----"
The check came again into evidence.
"Hands down for the bangles--my son," ordered the detective as he
stepped toward Stein. As the handcuffs snapped, Williams lowered his
weapon and picked up the check. Then as the men moved their prisoners
toward the door he turned to the woman.
"Mrs.--Forbes," he began in a low tone, "won't you be good enough to
tell me your right name?"
The reply was a paroxysm of tears and sobs. Williams waited for the
outburst to subside and then quietly repeated his question. The answer
came brokenly between sobs.
"It'd be--it'd be Mrs. Forbes--if--if--I had my rights!"
Williams stared at the speaker in utter amazement. Was there something
more in this case? Who was this woman, anyway, and why did she claim any
right to Forbes' name?
"And until you get your rights," he said, "what shall I call you?"
"Mary Halpin--Miss," answered the woman, sullenly.
Williams signalled the waiting detective to stop where he was.
"Well, Mary," he continued, "will you kindly go into my room for a
moment?"
The woman rose and passed into the room indicated.
"Miss Halpin," began Williams when the door closed, "I suppose you are
well aware what your position is, and that it can't be made much worse.
I cannot, of course, promise you any leniency, but if you want to answer
a few questions you can regard yourself as speaking confidentially to
your Counsel, and I may possibly be able to give you some advice."
The woman looked at him in silence for a moment and then nodded.
"Are you the Mary Halpin mentioned in the divorce case of _Forbes_ vs.
_Forbes_?"
"Yes."
Williams studied the face before him, and as he did so, possibilities
began to crowd thick and fast upon his mind. He determined to risk
something in his next question.
"Mr. Forbes suggested that you impersonate Mrs. Forbes," he asserted
boldly.
"How do you know that?" snapped Miss Halpin.
"No matter--I do know it. What reason did he give for wanting you to
impersonate his wife?"
The woman buried her face in her hands and Williams let her cry it out.
Here was a nice ending to all his plans for Miss Thornton! If Forbes'
connection with this case was known what a splendid newspaper story his
courtship of the young society girl would make! All the horrors of
publicity would be crowded upon her with crushing force. She might bear
humiliation in the sight of her friends, but not before the gaze of the
world. If anything was to be done to strangle that journalistic tid-bit
it must be done then and there.
"Why did he want you to impersonate his wife?" repeated Williams.
The woman looked at him through her tears.
"He said he had to have the money and--if I did it--he'd have plenty. He
said--he said there was no harm--that I was--I was--that I had a right
to say I was Mrs. Forbes, and he'd marry me afterwards. But he'll never
do it now!" she sobbed, "he'll never do it now!"
"I think he will."
Miss Halpin stopped weeping and stared eagerly at Williams.
"O if I thought that!" she began. "I'd do anything--anything!"
"Listen then. Does Winter or Stein know of Forbes in this matter?"
"No, no."
"Don't they know he's back of you?"
"No."
"All your own game?--You bought them yourself?"
"Yes."
"And you don't want revenge on Forbes?"
"No, no. God forgive me, I love him!"
"Then prove it. You will be taken to the Tombs now. Don't get
frightened. Say nothing to anyone. Before night Forbes will get bail for
you and you will go at once with him to Dr. Strong's in Jersey City.
Forbes has promised to marry you before?"
"Yes."
"So I suppose you wouldn't mind having some sort of hold on him?"
The woman smiled.
"All right, I'll give you some advice. If he hesitates at the altar this
time tell him you've been asked to turn State's evidence and remind him
that it is difficult for wives to testify against their husbands. That's
all. Good-bye."
Williams opened the door and stepped into the outer office.
"You will find your prisoner in my room, Sergeant," he said to the
waiting detective.
"Dan," he called to the office boy, as the door closed upon the officer
and his charge. "Ring up Mr. R. Castelez Forbes, and say I want to see
him here at once."
Ten minutes later Williams was retained by R. Castelez Forbes, and gave
that gentleman some sound advice. The same day toward evening, Mrs. R.
C. Forbes, _nee_ Halpin, and her husband, _alias_ R. Castelez Forbes,
started very privately for the West, and the City of New York was the
richer in forfeited bail.
* * * * *
It is often difficult to differentiate between the accessory to a crime
and the counsel defending the criminal. Williams, of course, might plead
confidential communications, which certainly cover a multitude of sins.
But I prefer to pardon him on the theory that all is fair in love
and--well, law is a sort of civil war. Sometimes not even civil.
If this wasn't a true story, I might report that Williams married a fine
woman in every way worthy of him, and that Meyer as a reward for that
day's good work gave him all his business ever afterwards. But the facts
are Williams never married, and Meyer refused to pay his fee. Whereupon
Williams promptly sued him for the money, won the suit and collected
every cent due him. That is the real reason why the old scamp respects
him nowadays and gives him so much of his business.