PUZZLING AUTOGRAPHS
The affairs of the Traction Company proved to be in a wretched tangle.
Saxton employed an expert accountant to open a set of books for the
company, while he gave his own immediate attention to the physical
condition of the property. The company's service was a byword and a
hissing in the town, and he did what he could to better it, working long
hours, but enjoying the labor. It had been a sudden impulse on Fenton's
part to have Saxton made receiver. In Saxton's first days at Clarkson he
had taken legal advice of Fenton in matters which had already been
placed in the lawyer's hands by the bank; but most of these had long
been closed, and Saxton had latterly gone to Raridan for such legal
assistance as he needed from time to time. Fenton had firmly intended
asking Wheaton's appointment; this seemed to him perfectly natural and
proper in view of Wheaton's position in the bank and his relations with
Porter, which were much less confidential than even Fenton imagined.
Fenton had been disturbed to find Margrave and Wheaton together in the
directors' room the night before the annual meeting of the Traction
stockholders. He could imagine no business that would bring them
together; and the hour and the place were not propitious for forming new
alliances for the bank. Wheaton had appeared agitated as he passed out
the packet of bonds and stocks; and Margrave's efforts at gaiety had
only increased Fenton's suspicions. From every point of view it was
unfortunate that Porter should have fallen ill just at this time; but it
was, on the whole, just as well to take warning from circumstances that
were even slightly suspicious, and he had decided that Wheaton should
not have the receivership. He had not considered Saxton in this
connection until the hour of the Traction meeting; and he had inwardly
debated it until the moment of his decision at the street corner.
He had expected to supervise Saxton's acts, but the receiver had taken
hold of the company's affairs with a zeal and an intelligence which
surprised him. Saxton wasn't so slow as he looked, he said to the
federal judge, who had accepted Saxton wholly on Fenton's
recommendation. Within a fortnight Saxton had improved the service of
the company to the public so markedly that the newspapers praised him.
He reduced the office force to a working basis and installed a cashier
who was warranted not to steal. It appeared that the motormen and
conductors held their positions by paying tribute to certain minor
officers, and Saxton applied heroic treatment to these abuses without
ado.
The motormen and conductors grew used to the big blond in the long gray
ulster who was forever swinging himself aboard the cars and asking them
questions. They affectionately called him "Whiskers," for no obvious
reason, and the report that Saxton had, in one of the power-houses,
filled his pipe with sweepings of tobacco factories known in the trade
as "Trolleyman's Special," had further endeared him to those men whose
pay checks bore his name as receiver. In snow-storms the Traction
Company had usually given up with only a tame struggle, but Saxton
devised a new snow-plow, which he hitched to a trolley and drove with
his own hand over the Traction Company's tracks.
John was cleaning out the desk of the late secretary of the company one
evening while Raridan read a newspaper and waited for him. Warry was
often lonely these days. Saxton was too much engrossed to find time for
frivolity, and Mr. Porter's illness cut sharply in on Warry's visits to
the Hill. The widow's clothes lines were tied in a hard knot in the
federal court, to which he had removed them, and he was resting while he
waited for the Transcontinental to exhaust its usual tactics of delay
and come to trial. On Fenton's suggestion Saxton had intrusted to
Raridan some matters pertaining to the receivership, and these served to
carry Warry over an interval of idleness and restlessness.
"You may hang me!" said Saxton suddenly. He had that day unexpectedly
come upon the long-lost stock records of the company and was now
examining them. Thrust into one of the books were two canceled
certificates.
"It's certainly queer," he said, as Warry went over to his desk. He
spread out one of the certificates which Margrave had taken from Wheaton
the night before the annual meeting. "That's certainly Wheaton's
endorsement all right enough."
Raridan took off his glasses and brought his near-sighted gaze to bear
critically upon the paper.
"There's no doubt about it."
"And look at this, too." Saxton handed him Evelyn Porter's certificate.
Raridan examined it and Evelyn's signature on the back with greater
care. He carried the paper nearer to the light, and scanned it again
while Saxton watched him and smoked his pipe.
"You notice that Wheaton witnessed the signature."
Raridan nodded. Saxton, who knew his friend's moods thoroughly, saw that
he was troubled.
"I can find no plausible explanation of that," said Saxton. "Anybody may
be called on to witness a signature; but I can't explain this." He
opened the stock record and followed the history of the two certificates
from one page to another. It was clear enough that the certificates held
by Evelyn Porter and James Wheaton had been merged into one, which had
been made out in the name of Timothy Margrave, and dated the day before
the annual meeting.
"It doesn't make much difference at present," said Saxton. "When Mr.
Porter comes down town he will undoubtedly go over this whole business
and he can easily explain these matters."
"It makes a lot of difference," said Warry, gloomily.
"We'd better not say anything about this just now--not even to Fenton,"
Saxton suggested. "I'll take these things over to my other office for
safe keeping. Some one may want them badly enough to look for them."
Raridan sat down with his newspaper and pretended to be reading until
Saxton was ready to go.