BIRDS OF PREY
Mr. Arnot in his widely extended business owned several factories, and
in the vicinity of one, located at a suburb of New York, there were no
banking facilities. It was, therefore, his custom at stated times to
draw from his bank at Hillaton such amounts in currency as were needed
to pay those in his employ at the place indicated, and send the money
thither by one of his clerks. Upon the present occasion, in compliance
with his wife's request, he decided to send Haldane. He had no
hesitation in doing this, as the errand was one that required nothing
more than honesty and a little prudence.
"Mr. Haldane," said his employer, in tones somewhat less cold and formal
than those habitual with him, "we will let bygones be bygones. I am
inclined to think that hereafter you will be disposed to give your
thoughts more fully to business, as a man should who proposes to amount
to anything in the world. In these envelopes are one thousand dollars in
currency. I wish you to place them securely in your breast-pockets, and
take the five-thirty train to New York, and from thence early to-morrow
go out on the Long Island road to a little station called Arnotville,
and give these packages to Mr. Black, the agent in charge of my factory
there. Take his receipt, and report to me to-morrow evening. With that
amount of money upon your person you will perceive the necessity of
prudence and care. Here is a check paying your salary for the past
month. The cashier will give you currency for it. Report your expenses
on your return, and they will be paid. As the time is limited, perhaps
you can get some lunch at or near the depot."
"I prefer to do so," said Haldane, promptly, "and will try to perform
the business to your satisfaction."
Mr. Arnot nodded a cool dismissal, and Haldane started for a
hotel-restaurant near the depot with a step entirely too quick and
elastic for one who must walk henceforth in the shadow of "bitter
memories and dark disappointment." The exercise brought color to his
cheek, and there certainly was a sparkle in his dark eyes. It could not
be hope, for he had assured himself again and again that "hope was dead
in his heart." It might have been caused after his long fast by the
anticipation of a lunch at the depot and a _petit souper_ in the
city, and the thought of washing both down with a glass of wine, or
possibly with several. The relish and complacency with which his mind
dwelt on this prospect struck Haldane as rather incongruous in a being
as blighted as he supposed himself to be. With his youth, health, and
unusually good digestion he would find no little difficulty in carrying
out the "gloomy grandeur" scheme, and he began to grow conscious of the
fact.
Indeed, in response to a law of nature, he was already inclined to react
from his unwonted depression into reckless hilarity. Impulse and
inclination were his controlling forces, and he was accustomed to give
himself up to them without much effort at self-restraint. And yet he
sought to imagine himself consistent, so that he could maintain his
self-approval.
"I will hide my despair with laughter," he muttered; "the world cannot
know that it is hollow, and but a mask against its vulgar curiosity."
A good cold lunch and a cup of coffee--which he could have obtained at
once at the hotel near the depot--would not answer for this victim of
despair. Some extra delicacies, which required time for preparation,
were ordered. In the meantime he went to the bar for an "appetizer," as
he termed it. Here he met an acquaintance among the loungers present,
and, of course, asked him to take a social glass also. This personage
complied in a manner peculiarly felicitous, and in such a way as to give
the impression that his acceptance of the courtesy was a compliment to
Haldane. Much practice had made him perfect in this art, and the number
of drinks that he was able to secure gratis in the course of a year by
being always on hand and by maintaining an air of slight superiority,
combined with an appearance of _bonhomie_ and readiness to be social,
would have made a remarkable sum total.
Before their glasses clinked together he said, with the off-handed
courtesy indigenous to bar-rooms, where acquaintances are made with so
little trouble and ceremony:
"Mr. Haldane, my friends from New York, Mr. Van Wink and Mr. Ketchem."
Haldane turned and saw two young men standing conveniently near, who
were dressed faultlessly in the style of the day. There was nothing in
their appearance to indicate that they did not reside on Fifth Avenue,
and, indeed, they may have had rooms on that fashionable street.
Messrs. Van Wink and Ketchem had also a certain air of superiority, and
they shook hands with Haldane in a way that implied:
"While we are metropolitan men, we recognize in you an extraordinarily
fine specimen of the provincial." And the young man was not indifferent
to their unspoken flattery. He at once invited them also to state to the
smirking bartender their preferences among the liquid compounds before
them, and soon four glasses clinked together.
With fine and thoughtful courtesy they had chosen the same mixture that
he had ordered for himself, and surely some of the milk of human
kindness must have been infused in the punches which they imbibed, for
Messrs. Van Wink and Ketchem seemed to grow very friendly toward
Haldane. Perhaps taking a drink with a man inspired these worthies with
a regard for him similar to that which the social eating of bread
creates within the breasts of Bedouins, who, as travellers assert, will
protect with their lives a stranger that has sat at their board; but rob
and murder, as a matter of course, all who have not enjoyed that
distinction. Whatever may have been the cause, the stylish men from the
city were evidently pleased with Haldane, and they delicately suggested
that he was such an unusually clever fellow that they were willing to
know him better.
"I assure you, Mr. Haldane," protested Mr. Van Wink, "our meeting is an
unexpected pleasure. Having completed our business in town, time was
hanging heavily on our hands, and it is still a full half-hour before
the train leaves."
"Let us drink again to further acquaintance," said Mr. Ketchem
cordially, evincing a decided disposition to be friendly; "Mr. Haldane
is in New York occasionally, and we would be glad to meet him and help
him pass a pleasant hour there, as he is enlivening the present hour for
us."
Haldane was not cautious by nature, and had been predisposed by training
to regard all flattering attention and interest as due to the favorable
impression which he supposed himself to make invariably upon those whose
judgment was worth anything. It is true there had been one marked and
humiliating exception. But the consoling thought now flashed into his
mind that, perhaps, Miss Romeyn was, as she asserted, but a mere
"child," and incapable of appreciating him. The influence of the punch
he had drank and the immediate and friendly interest manifested by these
gentlemen who knew the world, gave a plausible coloring to this
explanation of her conduct. After all, was he not judging her too
harshly? She had not realized whom she had refused, and when she grew up
in mind as well as in form she might be glad to act very differently.
"But I may choose to act differently also," was his haughty mental
conclusion.
This self-communion took place while the still smirking bartender was
mixing the decoctions ordered by the cordial and generous Mr. Ketchem. A
moment later four glasses clinked together, and Haldane's first
acquaintance--the young man with the air of slight but urbane
superiority--felicitated himself that he had "made two free drinks"
within a brief space of time.
The effect of the liquor upon Haldane after his long fast was far
greater than if it had been taken after a hearty meal, and he began to
reciprocate the friendliness of the strangers with increasing interest.
"Gentlemen," said he, "our meeting is one of those fortunate incidents
which promise much more pleasure to come. I have ordered a little lunch
in the dining-room. It will take but a moment for the waiters to add
enough for three more, and then we will ride into the city together, for
my business takes me there this evening also."
"I declare," exclaimed Mr. Van Wink in a tone of self-gratulation, "were
I piously inclined I should be tempted to call our meeting quite
providential. But if we lunch with you it must be on condition that you
take a little supper with us at the Brunswick after we arrive in town."
"No one could object to such agreeable terms," cried Haldane; "come, let
us adjourn to the dining-room. By the way, Mr. Bartender, send us a
bottle of your best claret."
The young man who an hour before had regarded himself as cruelly
blighted for life, was quite successful in "hiding his despair with
laughter." Indeed, from its loudness and frequency, undue exhilaration
was suggested rather than a "secret sorrow." It gave him a fine sense of
power and of his manly estate to see the waiters bustling around at his
bidding, and to remember that he was the host of three gentlemen, who,
while very superior in style, and evidently possessed of wealth, still
recognized in him an equal with whom they were glad to spend a social
hour.
Scarcely ever before had he met any one who appreciated him as fully as
did Messrs. Van Wink and Ketchem, and their courteous deference
confirmed a view which he had long held, that only in the large sphere
of the metropolis could he find his true level and most congenial
companionships. These young men had a style about them which provincials
could not imitate. Even the superior gentleman who introduced them to
him had a slightly dimmed and tarnished appearance as he sat beside his
friends. There was an immaculate finish and newness about all their
appointments--not a speck upon their linen, nor a grain of dust upon
their broadcloth and polished boots. If the theory be true that
character is shown in dress, these men, outwardly so spotless, must be
worthy of the confidence with which they had inspired their new
acquaintance. They suggested two bright coins just struck from the mint,
and "They have the ring of true metal," thought Haldane.
It seemed to the young men that they had just fairly commenced to enjoy
their lunch, when a prolonged shriek of a locomotive, dying away in the
distance, awakened them to a sense of the flight of time. Hastily
pulling out his watch, Haldane exclaimed with an oath:
"There goes our train."
Messrs. Van Wink and Ketchem were apparently much concerned.
"Haldane," they exclaimed, "you are much too entertaining a fellow for
one to meet when there's a train to be caught."
"This is a serious matter for me," said Haldane, somewhat sobered by the
thought of Mr. Arnot's wrath; "I had important business in town."
"Can it not be arranged by telegraph?" asked Mr. Van Wink in a tone of
kindly solicitude.
"One can't send money by telegraph. No; I must go myself."
The eyes of Haldane's three guests met for a second in a way that
indicated the confirmnation of something in their minds, and yet so
evanescent was this glance of intelligence that a cool, close observer
would scarcely have detected it, much less their flushed and excited
host.
"Don't worry, Haldane," said his first acquaintance; "there is an
owl-train along at eleven to-night, and you can mail your check or draft
on that if you do not care to travel at such an unearthly hour."
"Oh, there is a late train!" cried the young man, much relieved. "Then
I'm all right. I am obliged to go myself, as the funds I carry are in
such a shape that I cannot mail them."
Again the eyes of his guests met with a furtive gleam of satisfaction.
Now that Haldane felt himself safely out of his dilemma, he began to be
solicitous about his companions.
"I fear," he said, "that my poor courtesy can make but small amends for
the loss of your train."
"Well, Haldane," said Mr. Ketchem, with great apparent candor, "I speak
for myself when I say that I would regret losing this train under most
circumstances, but with the prospect of a social evening together I can
scarcely say that I do."
"I, too," cried Mr. Van Wink, "am inclined to regard our loss of the
train as a happy freak of fortune. Let us take the owl-train, also,
Ketchem, and make a jovial night of it with Mr. Haldane."
"Fill up your glasses, and we'll drink to a jolly night," cried Haldane,
and all complied with wonderful zest and unanimity. The host, however,
was too excited and preoccupied to note that while Mr. Van Wink and Mr.
Ketchem were always ready to have their glasses filled, they never
drained them very low; and thus it happened that he and the slightly
superior gentleman who made free drinks one of the chief objects of
existence shared most of the bottle of wine between them.
As the young men rose from the lunch table Haldane called this
individual aside, and said:
"Harker, I want you to help a fellow out of a scrape. You must know that
I was expected to leave town on the five-thirty train. I do not care to
be seen in the public rooms, for old cast-iron Arnot might make a row
about my delay, even though it will make no difference in his business.
Please engage a private room, where we can have a bottle of wine and a
quiet game of cards, and no one be the wiser."
"Certainly--nothing easier in the world--I know just the
room--cosey--off one side--wait a moment, gentlemen."
It seemed but a moment before he returned and led them, preceded by a
bell-boy, to just such an apartment as he had described. Though the
evening was mild, a fire was lighted in the grate, and as it kindled it
combined with the other appointments to give the apartment an air of
luxurious comfort.
"Bring us a bottle of sherry," said Haldane to the bell-boy.
"Also a pack of cards, some fine old brandy and cigars, and charge to
me," said Mr. Ketchem; "I wish to have my part in this entertainment.
Come, Harker, take a seat."
"Desperately sorry I can't spend the evening with you," said this
sagacious personage, who realized with extreme regret that not even for
the prospect of unlimited free potations could he afford to risk the
loss of his eminent respectability, which he regarded as a capitalist
does his principal, something that must be drawn upon charily. Mr.
Harker knew that his mission was ended, and, in spite of the order for
the sherry and brandy, he had sufficient strength of mind to retire. In
delicate business transactions like the one under consideration he made
it a point to have another engagement when matters got about as far
along as they now were in Haldane's case. If anything unpleasant
occurred between parties whom he introduced to each other, and he was
summoned as a witness, he grew so exceedingly dignified and superior in
his bearing that every one felt like asking his pardon for their
suspicions. He always proved an _alibi_, and left the court-room
with the air of an injured man. As people, however, became familiar with
his haunts and habits, there was an increasing number who regarded his
virtuous assumptions and professions of ignorance in respect to certain
cases of swindling with incredulous smiles.
Mr. Barker, however, could not tear himself away till the brandy and
sherry appeared, and, after paying his respects to both, went to keep
his engagement, which consisted in lounging about another hotel on the
other side of the depot.
Messrs. Van Wink and Ketchem, of course, both knew how to deal the
cards, and with apologetic laughter the young men put up small stakes at
first, just to give zest to the amusement. Haldane lost the first game,
won the second and third, lost again, had streaks of good and bad luck
so skilfully intermingled that the thought often occurred to him:
"These fellows play as fair a game as I ever saw and know how to win and
lose money like gentlemen."
But these high-toned "gentlemen" always managed to keep the bottle of
sherry near him, and when they lost they would good-naturedly and
hilariously propose that they take a drink. Haldane always complied, but
while he drank they only sipped.
As the evening waned the excitement of the infatuated youth deepened.
The heat of the room and the fumes of tobacco combined with the liquor
to unman him and intensify the natural recklessness of his character.
There is, probably, no abnormal passion that so completely masters its
victims as that for gambling; and as Haldane won, lost, and won again,
he became so absorbed as to be unconscious of the flight of time and all
things else. But as he lost self-control, as he half-unconsciously put
his glass to his lips with increasing frequency, his companions grew
cooler and more wary. Their eyes no longer beamed good-naturedly upon
their victim, but began to emit the eager, cruel gleams of some bird of
prey.
But they still managed the affair with consummate skill. Their aim was
to excite Haldane to the last degree of recklessness, and yet keep him
sufficiently sober for further playing. From Harker they had learned
that Mr. Arnot had probably sent him in the place of the clerk usually
employed; and, if so, it was quite certain that he had a large sum of
money upon his person. Haldane's words on becoming aware that he had
missed his train confirmed their surmises, and it was now their object
to beguile him into a condition which would make him capable of risking
his employer's funds. They also wished that he should remain
sufficiently sober to be responsible for this act, and to remember, as
he recalled the circumstances, that it was his own act. Therefore they
kept the brandy beyond his reach; that was not yet needed.
By the time the evening was half over, Haldane found that, although he
had apparently won considerable money, he had lost more, and that not a
penny of his own funds remained. With an angry oath he stated the fact
to his companions.
"That's unfortunate," said Mr. Ketchem, sympathetically. "There are
nearly two hours yet before the train leaves, and with your disposition
toward good luck tonight you could clean us out by that time, and would
have to lend us enough to pay our fares to New York."
"It's a pity to give up our sport now that we have just got warmed up to
it," added Mr. Van Wink, suggestively. "Haven't you some funds about you
that you can borrow for the evening--just enough to keep the game going,
you know?"
Haldane hesitated. He was not so far gone but that conscience entered an
emphatic protest. The trouble was, however, that he had never formed the
habit of obeying conscience, even when perfectly sober. Another
influence of the past also proved most disastrous. His mother's weakness
now made him weak. In permitting him to take her money without asking,
she had undermined the instinct of integrity which in this giddy moment
of temptation might have saved him. If he from childhood had been taught
that the property of others was sacred, the very gravity of the crime to
which he now was urged would have sobered and awakened him to his
danger. But his sense of wrong in this had been blunted, and there was
no very strong repugnance toward the suggestion.
Moreover, his brain was confused and excited to the last degree possible
in one who still continued sane and responsible. Indeed, it would be
difficult to say how far he was responsible at this supreme moment of
danger. He certainly had drank so much as to be unable to realize the
consequences of his action.
After a moment's hesitation, like one who feebly tries to brace himself
in a swift torrent, the gambler's passion surged up against and over his
feeble will--then swept him down.