NEIL TAKES A SUDDEN INTEREST IN THE BUSINESS AND WALLINGFORD LETS GO
Neil, the next day after his talk with Minnie Bishop, had a great idea,
which was nothing more nor less than a Supreme Circle Conclave, in which
a picked degree team would exemplify the ritual, and to which delegates
from all the local circles should be invited. They had never held a
Supreme Conclave, and they needed it to arouse enthusiasm. Clover fell
in with the idea at once. It would provide him with an opportunity for
one of the spread-eagle speeches he was so fond of making. As this phase
of the business--comprising the insurance and the lodge work--was left
completely in charge of Clover and Neil, Wallingford made no objections,
and, having ample funds for carrying out such a plan, it was accordingly
arranged. Neil went on the road at once about this matter, but letters
between himself and Minnie Bishop passed almost daily. An indefinable
change had come over the girl. She had grown more earnest, for one
thing, but she assumed a forced flippancy with Wallingford because she
found that it was her only defense against him. She turned off his
advances as jests, and her instinct of coquetry, though now she
recognized it and was ashamed of it, made her able to puzzle and hold
uncertainly aloof even this experienced "man of the world." It was
immediately after she had jerked her hand away from under his one
afternoon that, in place of the reproof he had half expected from her,
she turned to him with a most dazzling smile.
"By the way, we've both forgotten something, Mr. Wallingford," she said.
"Quarter day for the Bishops is long past due."
"What is it that is past due?" he asked in surprise.
"When my mother bought her stock, you know, you promised that she should
have twelve per cent. interest on it, payable every three months."
"That's right," he admitted, looking at her curiously, and before she
started home that evening he handed her an envelope with thirty dollars
in it.
She immediately made a note of the amount and dropped it in the drawer
of her desk.
"Never mind entering that in your books," he said hastily, noting her
action; "just keep the memorandum until we arrange for a regular
dividend, then it can all be posted at once. It's--it's a matter that
has been overlooked."
She thanked him for the money and took it home with her. She had been
planning for a week or more upon how to get this thirty dollars. On the
very next day, while he was absorbedly poring over a small account book
that he kept locked carefully in his desk, he found her standing beside
him.
"I'm afraid that I shall have to ask you to buy back mother's stock in
the company," she said. That morning's mail had been unusually heavy in
stock sale possibilities. "We have a sudden pressing need for that
thousand dollars, and we'll just have to have it, that's all."
Wallingford's first impulse was to dissuade her from this idea, but
another thought now came to him as he looked musingly into his roll-top
desk; and as the girl, standing above him, gazed down upon his thick
neck and puffy cheeks, he reminded her of nothing so much as a monstrous
toad.
"Have you the stock certificate with you?" he inquired presently.
No, she had not.
"Well, bring it down to-night," he said, "and I'll give you a check for
it. I'm going away on a little trip to-morrow, and I want you to get me
up a statement out of the books, anyhow."
For an instant the girl hesitated with a sharp intake of breath. Then
she said, "Very well," and went home.
That night, when she returned, she paused in the hall a moment to subdue
her trepidation, then, whether foolish or not, but with such courage as
men might envy, she boldly opened the door and stepped in. She found
Wallingford at his desk, and she had walked up to him and laid at his
elbow the stock certificate, properly released, before he turned his
unusually flushed face toward her. In his red eyes she saw that he had
been dining rather too well, even for him. She had been prepared for
this, however, and her voice was quite steady as she asked:
"Have you the check made out, Mr. Wallingford?"
"There's no hurry about it," he replied a trifle thickly. "There's some
work I want you to do first."
"I'd rather you would make out the check now," she insisted, "so that I
won't forget it."
Laboriously he filled out the blank and signed it, and then blinkingly
watched her smooth, white fingers as she folded it and snapped it into
her purse. Suddenly he swung his great arm about her waist and drew her
toward him. What followed was the surprise of his life, for a very sharp
steel hatpin was jabbed into him in half a dozen indiscriminate places,
and Minnie Bishop stood panting in the middle of the floor.
"I have endured it here for weeks now, longer than I believed it
possible," she shrieked at him, crying hysterically, "because we could
not afford to lose this money: stood it for days when the sight of you
turned me sick! It seems a year ago, you ugly beast, that I made sure
you were a thief, but I wouldn't leave till I knew it was the right time
to ask you for this check!"
Dazed, he stood nursing his hurts. One of her strokes had been into his
cheek, and as he took his reddened handkerchief away from it a flood of
rage came over him and he took a step forward; but he had miscalculated
her spirit.
"I wish I had killed you!" she cried, and darted out of the door.
For three days after that episode the man was confined to his room under
the care of his wife, whom he told that he had been attacked by a
footpad, "a half-crazy foreigner with a stiletto." For a week more he
was out of town. A peremptory telegram from Clover brought him in from
his stock-drumming transactions, and by the time he reached the city he
was ready for any emergency, though finally attributing the call to the
fact, which he had almost forgotten, that to-morrow was the first day of
the three set apart for the Supreme Circle Conclave of the Noble Order
of Friendly Hands.
He arrived at about eight o'clock in the evening, and as his automobile
rolled past the big building where their offices were located, he
glanced up and saw that lights were blazing brightly from the windows.
Anxious to find out at once the true status of affairs he went up. He
was surprised to find the big reception room full of hard-featured men
who looked uncomfortable in their "best clothes," and among them he
recognized two or three, from surrounding small towns, to whom he had
sold stock. At first, as he opened the door, black looks were cast in
his direction, and a couple of the men half arose from their seats; but
they sat down again as Mr. J. Rufus Wallingford's face beamed with a
cordial smile.
"Good evening, gentlemen," he observed cheerfully, with a special nod
for those he remembered, and then he stalked calmly through the room.
The nights being cool now, Mr. Wallingford wore a fur-lined ulster of
rich material and of a fit which made his huge bulk seem the perfection
of elegance. Upon his feet were shining patent leather shoes; upon his
head was a shining high hat. He carried one new glove in his gloved left
hand; from his right hand gleamed the big diamond. His ulster hung open
in front, displaying his sparkling scarf pin, his rich scarf of the
latest pattern, his fancy waistcoat. He held his head high, and no man
could stand before him nor against him. When the door had closed behind
him they almost sighed in unison. There went money, sacred money, even
the more so that some of it was their own!
In the inner office, Wallingford was surprised to find Minnie Bishop
present and working earnestly upon the books. Looking up she met his
darkening glance defiantly, but even if he had chosen to speak to her
there was no time, for Clover had opened the door of his own private
office and greeted him with a curt nod.
"Come in here," said Clover roughly. "I want to talk to you."
It was the inevitable moment, the one for which Wallingford had long
been prepared.
"Certainly," he said with aggravating cheerfulness, and, walking in, let
Clover close the door behind him. He sat comfortably in the big leather
chair at the side of the desk and lit a cigar, while Clover plumped
himself in his own swivel.
"Who are the Rubes outside?" asked Wallingford, puffing critically at
his half-dollar perfecto.
"Neil's picked degree team," answered Clover shortly. "He had them meet
up here to-night for some instructions, I believe, but he's not here
yet. It's his affair entirely. I want to see you about something else."
"Blaze away," said Wallingford with great heartiness, carefully placing
his silk hat upon a clean sheet of paper. He was still smiling
cheerfully, but in his eyes had come the trace of a glitter.
"I'll blaze away all right, whether I have your invitation or not!"
snapped Clover. "You've been giving me the double cross. For every share
of stock you sold for the company you've sold five of your own and
pocketed the money."
"Why shouldn't I?" inquired Mr. Wallingford calmly, his willingness to
admit it so pleasantly amounting to insolence. "It was my stock, and the
money I got for such of it as I sold was my money."
"_Such_ of it as you sold!" repeated Clover indignantly. "I know how
much you unloaded. You have placed somewhat over twenty thousand for the
company--"
"And five thousand for you," Wallingford reminded him. "I suppose you
went South with the proceeds. If you didn't you're crazy!"
Clover flushed a trifle.
"But you got rid of nearly sixty thousand dollars of your own stock," he
charged bitterly. It still rankled in him that Wallingford had "handed
the lemon" to him. _Him!_ Monstrous that a man should be so
dishonorable! "You played me for a mark. When you handed out my
certificates you instructed every man to send them in for transfer, but
when you peddled your own you said nothing about that, and only the few
yaps who happened to know about such things sent them in. You're nearly
all sold out, and I'm holding the bag."
"Right you are," admitted Wallingford, openly amused. "I have a few
shares left in my desk, though, and I'll make you a present of them. I'm
going out of the company, you know."
"You're not!" exclaimed Clover, smiting his fist upon his desk. "We were
in this thing together, half and half, and I want my share!"
Wallingford laughed.
"I told you once," he informed his irate partner, "that I never give up
any money. My action is strictly legal. Now, don't choke!" he added as
he saw Clover about to make another objection. "You've not a gasp
coming. When I took hold here you were practically on your last legs.
You have had a salary of one hundred dollars a week since that time. In
addition to that I have handed you five thousand dollars, and you have
nearly sixty thousand dollars' worth of stock left. You can do just what
I have been doing: sell your stock and get out. As for me I _am_ out,
and that's all there is to it! I have all I want and I'm going to quit!"
The door had opened and Neil stood on the threshold.
"You bet you're going to quit!" said Neil. His face was pale but his
eyes were blazing and his fists were clenched. "You're both going to
quit, but not the way you think you are! Come out here. Some of my
friends are in the waiting room, and they want to see you right away!"
Clover had turned a sickly, ashen white, but Wallingford rose to his
feet.
"You tell them to go plumb to Hell!" he snarled.
His eyes were widened until they showed the whites. He was fully as much
cowed by the suggestion as Clover, but he would "put up a front" to the
last.
"Come in, boys!" commanded Neil loudly.
They came with alacrity. They crowded into the small room, packing it so
snugly that Neil and Wallingford and Clover, forced into the little
space before Clover's desk, stood touching.
"What does this mean?" demanded Wallingford, glaring at the invaders.
He stood almost head and shoulders above them, and where he met a man's
eyes those eyes dropped. Some of them who had not removed their hats
hastily did so. His lordliness was still potent.
"You can't bluff me!" shrieked Neil, who, standing beside him, shook his
fist in Wallingford's face. The contrast between the sizes of the two
men would have been ludicrous, had it not been for Neil's intensity,
which seemed to expand him, to make him and his passionate purpose
colossal. "I know you, and these men don't!" he went on, his neck chords
swelling with anger. "Why, think of it, gentlemen, in the four months
that he has been here, this man has taken sixty thousand dollars from
the hard-working members of this Order, has stuffed it in his pocket and
is making ready to leave! The little girl out there, who is getting us
up a statement for to-morrow, figured him out for the dog he is while I
was still groping for the facts. He tried to take her for a fool, but
she--she--" His voice broke and he smacked his fist in his palm to
loosen his tongue. "You're a smart man, Mr. Wallingford, but you made a
few mistakes. One of them was in sending me on the road so you could--so
you--" again his voice broke and he sank his nails into his palms for
control. "You thought this meeting was a mere jolly for our members,
didn't you? It's not. These men are here solely as representatives of
the business interests of their friends. We're going to put this Order
back upon a sound basis, and the first thing we're going to do is to cut
out graft. Why, you unclean whelp, you have spent over fourteen
thousand dollars in the four months you have been here, and you have--or
had, up to a week ago--forty-five thousand dollars in the Second
National--all of poor men's money! How do I know? You lost your bank
book which had just been balanced. As for you, Clover, you're a clog
upon the business, too!" Clover had brought this upon himself by darting
at Wallingford a glance of hate, which Neil caught. "Now this is what
_you're_ going to do, James Clover. For having fathered the Order you're
to be allowed to keep the five thousand dollars you got for the sale of
stock. Your remaining stock you're going to transfer over to our
treasury, and then you're going to step down and out. As for you, Mr. J.
Rufus Wallingford, you're going to write a check for forty-five thousand
dollars, payable to the company."
"What you are asking of me is unjust--and absurd," whined Wallingford.
"Write that check!" Neil almost screamed. "We know you're slick enough
to keep your tricks within legal bounds, and that's why these men are
here."
The brow of Wallingford contracted and he tried to look angry, but his
breath was coming short and there was a curious pallor around the edge
of his lips and around his eyes.
"This is coercion!" he charged with dry mouth.
"Put it that way if you want to," agreed Neil hotly.
"We'll break your infernal neck, that's what we'll do!" put in a
spokesman back toward the door, and there was a general pressing
forward. Neil had lashed them into fury, and one rawboned fellow, a
blacksmith, wedged through them with purple face and upraised fist. So
heavily that he knocked the breath out of Clover with his chair back,
Wallingford plumped down at the desk and whipped out his check book.
"I ask one thing of you," he said, as he picked up the pen with a
curious trembling grimace that was almost like a smile, but was not.
"You must leave me at least a thousand dollars to get away from here."
There was a moment of silence.
"That's reasonable," granted Neil, after careful consideration. "Give us
the check for forty-four thousand."
Wallingford wrote it and then he put it in his pocket.
"I have the check ready, gentlemen," he announced, "but I'll give it to
you at the entrance of my home--to a committee consisting of Neil and
any two others you may select. If I hand it to you before I pass out at
that door, some of you are liable to--to lose your heads."
He was positively craven in appearance when he said this, and with an
expression of contempt Neil agreed to it. Wallingford's car was still
waiting on the street below, and into it piled the four. Before the rich
building where J. Rufus had his apartments, Neil and one of the other
men got out first; but if they had anticipated any attempt at escape on
Wallingford's part they were mistaken. Without a word he handed the
check to Neil and waited while they inspected it to see that it was
correctly drawn and signed.
"Now, Mr. Slippery Eel," said Neil exultantly as he put the check in his
pocket, "it won't do any good to try to stop this check, for if I can't
draw it you can't. I shall be there in the morning when the bank opens.
I secured an injunction this afternoon that will tie up your account,"
and his voice swelled with triumph.
Wallingford laughed. With his hand upon the knob he held the vestibule
door open, and he felt safe from violence, which was all he feared.
"Well," said he philosophically, "I see I'm beaten, and there's no use
crying over spilled milk."
Neil looked after him dubiously, as he swaggered into the hall.
"I didn't expect it would be so easy," he said to the men. "I knew the
fellow was a physical coward, but I didn't know he was such a big one.
My lawyer told me he could even beat us on that injunction."
Mr. Wallingford did not go directly to his apartments. He went into the
booth downstairs, instead, and telephoned his wife. Then he went out. He
was gone for about half an hour, and, when he came back, Mrs.
Wallingford, wastefully leaving a number of expensive accumulations that
were too big to be carried as hand luggage, and abandoning the rich
furniture to be claimed by the deluded dealers, had four suit cases
packed.