MILLICENT TURNS TRAITRESS
It was with a heavy sense of responsibility that Geoffrey returned from
a visit to Savine's offices in Vancouver, and yet there was
satisfaction mingled with his anxiety. Thomas Savine, who knew little
of engineering, was no fool at finance, and the week they spent
together made the situation comparatively plain. It was fraught with
peril and would have daunted many a man, but the very uncertainty and
prospect of a struggle which would tax every energy appealed to
Thurston. He felt also that here was an opportunity of proving his
devotion to Helen in the way he could do it best.
"I'm uncommonly thankful we didn't send for an accountant; the fewer
folks who handle those books the better," declared Thomas Savine. "I
was prepared for a surprise, Thurston, but never expected this. I
suppose things can be straightened out, but when I'd fixed up that
balance, it just took my breath away. More than half the assets are
unmarketable stock and ventures no man could value, while whether they
will ever realize anything goodness only knows. It's mighty certain
Julius doesn't know himself what he has been doing the last two years.
I can let my partners run our business down in Oregon and stay right
here for a time, counting on you to do the outside work, if what you
have seen hasn't clicked you off. You haven't signed the agreement
yet. How does the whole thing strike you?"
"As chaos that can and must be reduced to order," answered Geoffrey
with a reckless laugh. "I intend to sign the agreement, and,
foreseeing that you may have trouble about the money which I propose to
spend freely, I am adding all my private savings to the working
capital. It is, therefore, neck or nothing with me now, as I fear it
is with the rest of you, and, in my opinion, we should let everything
but the reclamation scheme go. It will either ruin us or pay us
five-fold if we can put it through."
"Just so!" and Savine nodded. "I leave that end to you, but I've got
to explain things to Helen, and I don't like the thought of it. My
niece has talents. As her future lies at stake, she has a right to
know, but it will be another shock to her. Poor Julius brought her up
in luxury, and I expect has been far too mixed of late to know that he
was tottering towards the verge of bankruptcy. A smart outside
accountant would have soon scented trouble, but I don't quite blame my
brother's cashier, who is a clerk and nothing more, for taking
everything at its book value."
That afternoon Helen sat with the two men in the library at High
Maples. A roll of papers was on the table before her. When Thomas
Savine had made the condition of things as plain as possible, she
leaned back in her chair with crossed hands for a time.
"I thank you for telling me so much, and I can grasp the main issues,"
she said at length. "If my opinion is of value I would say I agree
with you that the bold course is best. But you will need much money,
and as it is evident money will not be plentiful, so I must do my part
in helping you. Because this establishment and our mode of life here
is expensive, while it will please my father to be near the scene of
operations, we will let High Maples and retire to a mountain ranch. I
fear we have maintained a style circumstances hardly justified too
long."
"It's a sensible plan all through. I must tell you Mr. Thurston
has----" began Savine, and ceased abruptly, when Geoffrey, who frowned
at him, broke in:
"We have troubled Miss Savine with sufficient details, and I fancy the
arrangement suggested would help to keep her father tranquil,
especially as our progress will be slow. Spring is near, and, in spite
of our efforts, we shall not be able to deepen the pass in the canyon
before the waters rise. That means we can do nothing there until next
winter, and must continue the dyking all summer. It is very brave of
you, Miss Savine."
Helen smiled upon him as she answered:
"The compliment is doubtful. Did you suppose I could do nothing? But
we must march out with banners flying, or, more prosaically, paragraphs
in the papers, stating that Julius Savine will settle near the scene of
his most important operations. While you are here you should show
yourself in public as much as possible, Mr. Thurston. Whenever I can
help you, you must tell me, and I shall demand a strict account of your
stewardship from both of you."
The two men went away satisfied. Savine said:
"I guess some folks are mighty stupid when they consider that only the
ugly women are clever. There's my niece--well, nobody could call her
plain, and you can see how she's taking hold instead of weakening.
Some women never show the grit that's in them until they're fighting
for their children; but you can look out for trouble, Thurston, if you
fool away any chances, while Helen Savine's behind you fighting for her
father."
A few days later Henry Leslie, confidential secretary to the Industrial
Enterprise Company, sat, with a frown upon his puffy face, in his
handsome office. He wore a silk-bound frock coat, a garment not then
common in Vancouver, and a floral spray from Mexico in his button-hole;
but he was evidently far from happy, and glanced with ill-concealed
dismay at the irate specimen of muscular manhood standing before him.
The man, who was a sturdy British agriculturalist, had forced his way
in, defying the clerks specially instructed to intercept him. Leslie
had first set up in business as a land agent, a calling which affords a
promising field for talents of his particular description, and having
taken the new arrival's money, had, by a little manipulation of the
survey lines, transferred to him mostly barren rock and giant trees
instead of land for hop culture. It was a game which had been often
played before, but the particular rancher was a determined man and had
announced his firm intention of obtaining his money back or wreaking
summary vengeance on his betrayer.
"Danged if thee hadn't more hiding holes than a rotten, but I've hunted
thee from one to one, and now I've found thee I want my brass," shouted
the brawny, loud-voiced Briton. Leslie answered truthfully:
"I tell you I haven't got it, even if you had any claim on me, and it's
not my fault you're disappointed, if you foolishly bought land before
you could understand a Canadian survey plan."
"Then thou'lt better get it," was the uncompromising answer.
"Understand a plan! I've stuck to the marked one I got from thee, and
there's lawyers in this country as can. It was good soil and maples I
went up to see, and how the ---- can anybody raise crops off the big
stones thou sold me? I'm going to have my rights, and, meantime, I'm
trapesing round all the bars in this city talking about thee. There's
a good many already as believe me."
"Then you had better look out. Confound you!" threatened Leslie,
taking a bold course in desperation. "There's a law which can stop
that game in this country, and I'll set it in motion. Anyway, I can't
have you making this noise in my private office. Go away before I call
my clerks to throw you out."
The effort at intimidation was a distinct failure, for the aggrieved
agriculturalist, who was not quite sober, laughed uproariously as he
seized a heavy ruler. "That's a good yan," he roared. "Thou darsen't
for thy life go near a court with me, and the first clerk who tries to
put me out, danged if I don't pound half the life out of him and thee.
I'm stayin' here comf'able until I get my money."
He pulled out a filthy pipe, and filled it with what, when he struck a
match, turned out to be particularly vile tobacco, and Leslie, who
fumed in his chair, said presently:
"You are only wasting your time and mine--and for heaven's sake take a
cigar and fling that pipe away. I haven't got the money by me, and
it's the former owner's business, not mine, but if you'll call round,
say the day after to-morrow, I'll see what we can do."
He named the day, knowing that he would be absent then, and the
stranger, heaving his heavy limbs out of an easy chair, helped himself
to a handful of choice cigars before he prepared to depart, saying
dubiously:
"I'll be back on Wednesday bright and early, bringing several friends
as will see fair play with me. One of them will be a lawyer, and if
he's no good either, look out, mister, for I'll find another way of
settling thee!"
There are in Canada, as well as other British Colonies, capitalists,
dealing in lands and financing mines, whose efforts make for the
progress of civilization and the good of the community. There are also
others, described by their victims as a curse to any country.
Representatives of both descriptions were interested in the Industrial
Enterprise. Therefore, the unfortunate secretary groaned when one of
the latter class, who passed his visitor in the doorway, came in
smiling in a curious manner. Leslie, who hoped he had not heard much,
was rudely undeceived.
"I'm hardly surprised at certain words I heard in the corridor," he
commenced. "Your English friend was telling an interesting tale about
you to all the loungers in the Rideau bar to-day. They seemed to
believe him--he told it very creditably. When are you going to stop
it, Leslie?"
"When I can pay him the equivalent of five hundred sterling in
blackmail. I am afraid it will be a long time," answered the
secretary, ruefully.
"Then I would advise you to beg, borrow or steal the money. A man of
your abilities and practical experience oughtn't to find much
difficulty in this part of the world," said the newcomer. "The tale
may have been a fabrication, but it sounded true, and while I don't set
up as a reformer I am a director of this Company, and can't have those
rumors set going about its secretary. No, I don't want to hear your
side of the case--it's probably highly creditable to you--but I know
all about the kind of business you were running, and a good many other
folks in this province do, too."
"Who, in the name of perdition, would lend me the money? And it takes
every cent I've got to live up to my post. You don't pay too
liberally," sneered the unfortunate man, stung into brief fury by the
reference to his character.
"I will," was the answer. "That is to say, I'll fix things up with the
plain-spoken Britisher, and take your acknowledgment in return for his
written statement that he has no claim on you. I know how to handle
that breed of cattle, and mayn't press you for the money until you can
pay it comfortably."
"What are you doing it for?" asked Leslie, dubiously.
"For several reasons; I don't mind mentioning a few. I want more say
in the running of this Company, and I could get at useful facts my
colleagues didn't know through its secretary. I could also give him
instructions without the authority of a board meeting, see? And I
fancy I could put a spoke in Savine's wheel best by doing it quietly my
own way. One live man can often get through more than a squabbling
dozen, and the money is really nothing much to me."
"I had better sue the Englishman for defamation, and prove my
innocence, even if the legal expenses ruin me," said Leslie, and the
other, who laughed aloud, checked him.
"Pshaw! It is really useless trying that tone with me, especially as I
have heard about another dispute of the kind you once had at
Westminster. You're between the devil and the deep sea, but if you
don't start kicking you'll get no hurt from me. Call it a deal--and,
to change the subject, where's the man you sent up to worry Thurston?"
"I don't know," said Leslie. "I gave him a round sum, part of it out
of my own pocket, for I couldn't in the meantime think of a suitable
entry--all the directors don't agree with you. I know he started, but
he has never come back again."
"Then you have got to find him," was the dry answer. "We'll have
law-suits and land commissions before we're through, and if Thurston
has corralled or bought that man over, and plays him at the right
moment, it would certainly cost you your salary."
"I can't find him; I've tried," asserted Leslie.
"Then you had better try again and keep right on trying. Get at
Thurston through his friends if you can't do it any other way. Your
wife is already a figure in local society."
That night Leslie leaned against the mantelpiece in his quarters
talking to his wife. They had just returned from some entertainment
and Millicent, in beautiful evening dress, lay in a lounge chair
watching him keenly.
"You would not like to be poor again, Millicent?" he said, fixing his
glance, not upon her face but on her jeweled hands, and the woman
smiled somewhat bitterly as she answered:
"Poor again! That would seem to infer that we are prosperous now. Do
you know how much I owe half the stores in this city, Harry?"
"I don't want to!" said Leslie, with a gesture of impatience. "Your
tastes were always extravagant, and I mean the kind of poverty which is
always refused credit."
"My tastes!" and Millicent's tone was indignant. "I suppose I am fond
of money, or the things that it can buy, and you may remember you once
promised me plenty. But why can't you be honest and own that the
display we make is part of your programme? I have grown tired of this
scheming and endeavoring to thrust ourselves upon people who don't want
us, and if you will be content to stay at home and progress slowly,
Harry, I will gladly do my share to help you."
Millicent Leslie was ambitious, but the woman who endeavors to assist
an impecunious husband's schemes by becoming a social influence usually
suffers, even if successful, in the process, and Millicent had not been
particularly successful. She was also subject to morbid fits of
reflection, accompanied by the framing of good resolutions, which, for
the moment at least, she meant to keep. It is possible that night
might have marked a turning-point in her career had her husband
listened to her, but before she could continue, his thin lips curled as
he said:
"Isn't it a little too late for either of us to practice the somewhat
monotonous domestic virtues? You need not be afraid of hurting my
feelings, Millicent, by veiling your meaning. But, in the first place,
at the time you transferred your affections to me I had the money, and,
in the second, I must either carry out what you call my programme or go
down with a crash shortly. If luck favors me the prize I am striving
for is, however, worth winning, but things are going most confoundedly
badly just now. In fact, I shall be driven into a corner unless you
can help me."
Mrs. Leslie possessed no exalted code of honor, but, in her present
frame of mind, her husband's words excited fear and suspicion, and she
asked sharply, "What is it you want me to do?"
"I will try to explain. You know something of my business. I sent up
a clever rascal to--well, to pass as a workman seeking employment, and
so enable us to forestall some of Savine's mechanical improvements. He
took the money I gave him and started, but we have never seen him
since, and it is particularly desirable that I should know whether he
tried and failed or what has become of him. If the man made his exact
commission known it would cost me my place. The very people who would
applaud me if successful would be the first to make a scapegoat of me
otherwise."
"Your explanation is not quite lucid, but how could I get at the truth?"
"Ingratiate yourself with Miss Savine, or get that crack-brained aunt
of hers to cure your neuralgia. There are also two young premium
pupils, sons of leading Montreal citizens, in Mr. Savine's service, who
dance attendance upon the fair Helen continually. It shouldn't be
difficult to flatter them a little and set them talking."
"Do you think women are utterly foolish, or that they converse about
dams and earthworks?" asked Millicent, trying to check her rising
indignation.
"No, but I know a good many of you have the devil's own cunning, and
there can be but few much keener than you. Women in this country know
a great deal more about their lawful protectors' affairs than they
generally do at home, and Miss Savine is sufficiently proud not to care
whose wife you were if she took a fancy to you."
"It would be utterly useless!" Leslie looked his wife over with coolly
critical approval, noting how the soft lamplight sparkled in the pale
gold clusters of her hair, the beauty that still hung to her somewhat
careworn face, and how the costly dress enhanced the symmetry of a
finely-moulded frame.
"Then why can't you confine your efforts to the men? You are pretty
and clever enough to wheedle secrets out of Thurston's self even, now
you have apparently become reconciled to him."
For the first time since the revelations that followed Leslie's
downfall a red brand of shame and anger flamed in Millicent's cheeks.
She rose, facing the speaker with an almost breathless "How dare you?
Is there no limit to the price I must pay for my folly? Thurston
was----. But how could any woman compare him with you?"
"Sit down again, Millicent," suggested Leslie with an uneasy laugh.
"These heroics hardly become you--and nobody can extort a great deal in
return for--nothing better than you. In any case, it's no use now
debating whether one or both of us were foolish. I'm speaking no more
than the painful truth when I say that if I can't get the man back into
my hands I shall have to make a break without a dollar from British
Columbia. Since you have offended your English friends past
forgiveness, God knows what would become of you if that happened, while
Thurston would marry Miss Savine and sail on to riches--confusion to
him!"
Millicent was never afterwards certain why she accepted the quest from
which she shrank with loathing, at first. While her husband proceeded
to substantiate the truth of his statement, she was conscious of rage
and shame, as well as a profound contempt for him; and, because of it,
she felt an illogical desire to inflict suffering upon the man whom she
now considered had too readily accepted his rejection. Naturally, she
disliked Miss Savine. She was possessed by an abject fear of poverty,
and so, turning a troubled face towards the man, she said:
"I don't know that I shall ever forgive you, and I feel that you will
live to regret this night's work bitterly. However, as you say, it is
over late for us to fear losing the self-respect we parted with long
ago. Rest contented--I will try."
"That is better. We are what ill-luck or the devil made us," replied
Leslie, laying his hand on his wife's white shoulder, but in spite of
her recent declaration Millicent shrank from his touch.
"Your fingers burn me. Take them away. As I said, I will help you,
but if there was any faint hope of happiness or better things left us,
you have killed it," she declared in a decided tone.
"I should say the chance was hardly worth counting on," answered
Leslie, as he withdrew to soothe himself with a brandy-and-soda.
Millicent sat still in her chair, with her hands clenched hard on the
arms of it, staring straight before her.