SIMEON DEAVES TURNS PHILANTHROPIST
During his long vigil beside the spruce tree a scheme for dealing out
poetic justice all around had occurred to Evan. Of course one can
never tell in advance how people are going to take things, but he had
chuckled and resolved to try it anyhow. So full was he of his scheme,
even in sleep, that he awoke in an hour, and bathed, dressed and
breakfasted at his usual time.
On the slip of paper that Corinna had given Evan was written:
Thomas Dordess,
-- Broadway,
Give Weir the bonds.
C. PLAYFAIR.
Evan presented himself at this address at a few minutes past nine, when
offices were just opening. Dordess, it appeared, was not a journalist,
as Evan had once guessed, but an architect; that is to say, an elderly
architectural draughtsman, one of the race of slaves who help build
other men's reputations.
Early as it was, Dordess had already been apprised of Evan's coming.
Evan had only to look at him to know that. The ironic smile of the man
of the world was on his lips, in his eyes the resentful hatred of a
youth for his successful rival. The package of bonds was already done
up and waiting, it appeared. With scarcely a glance at Corinna's note,
which Evan offered him, Dordess handed it over.
"Better open it and look them over," he said bitterly.
"Time enough for that," said Evan. "I want to talk to you."
Dordess' eyebrows went up.
"Oh, I know you hate me like the devil," said Evan. "But I'm hoping
you'll know me better some day. Anyhow, I want to talk to you
privately for a few minutes. Is it safe here? I want to put up a
scheme to you."
Dordess indicated the package. "What more is there to say?" he asked
with his bitter smile.
"Better hear it," said Evan. "It may make it easier all around. Won't
hurt you to listen, anyway."
"All right," said Dordess. "Can't talk here. Too many going in and
out. I'll come out with you."
They ensconced themselves in an alcove of the cafe across the street.
"What's your scheme?" said Dordess. "Shoot!"
"Well, I gather from your generally humorous style," said Evan, "that
it was you who wrote the letters for the Ikunahkatsi. By the way, what
does Ikunahkatsi mean?"
"An Indian word for avengers. Yes, I wrote the letters. What of it?"
"I want you to write one more. Also another article for the _Clarion_."
"I would have to consult Miss Playfair."
"No. She mustn't know anything about it until later."
"Nothing doing, then."
"But listen----!"
Their heads drew close over the table, and for five minutes Evan talked
uninterruptedly. As Dordess listened his expression changed oddly; a
conflict of feelings was visible in his face; incredulity, chagrin, an
unwilling admiration, and laughter.
"Damn you!" he cried at last. "It's true I hate you! I wish to God
you were an out and out bad one so I could hate you right. But now
you're trying to bluff me that you're a decent head! I don't believe
you!"
Evan laughed. "Call my bluff," he said. "I'd do the writing myself,
only it would lose all its effect in another handwriting. And I never
could imitate your style."
"Very well, I'll do it," said Dordess. "Come back to my office in an
hour and a half and they'll be ready."
He was as good as his word. He and Evan laughed grimly together over
the result of his labours.
"Send it up by messenger," said Evan. "It will save time. I'll be on
hand when it arrives."
It was past eleven when Evan rang the bell of the Deaves house. He was
not without anxiety as to the reception he would receive. It was
possible that the old man, when he had quieted down, might begin to
remember things, and to put two and two together. However, he had to
take that chance.
He learned that Simeon Deaves was not yet up, that Mrs. George Deaves
was out, and her husband in the library. The latter received him with
no friendly face.
"You shouldn't have come here," he said.
Evan excused himself on the score of his anxiety about the old man.
"Papa got home all right," said George Deaves. "What happened to you
last night?"
Evan led him to suppose that his chase had ended in nothing. He asked
a cautious question.
"Oh," said the other. "Papa told a confused story about the house
where he was confined being raided by the police, and a chase through
the woods. I thought maybe you were mixed up in it."
The old man had not recognized him, then. Evan was relieved. He
affected to be greatly astonished.
"The police!" he said. "Who could have put them on to it? There was
nothing in the paper this morning."
"No, thank Heaven!" said Deaves fervently. "Maybe his mind was
wandering. I couldn't make sense of his story. I hope and pray the
thing is done with now."
But poor George Deaves was due to receive a shock when the second man
presently entered.
"Letter by messenger, sir. No answer."
At the sight of the superscription Deaves turned livid and fell back in
his chair. He stared at the envelope like a man bewitched. He
moistened his lips and essayed to speak, but no sound came out.
"What's the matter?" asked Evan when the servant had left.
"Another letter--already!" whispered Deaves huskily. "And only
yesterday--four hundred thousand! What a fool I was to believe in
their promises!"
"But open it!" said Evan.
"I can't--I can't face any more!"
"Let me."
Deaves feebly shoved it towards him.
Evan tore open the envelope. His cue was to express surprise, and he
did not neglect it.
"Listen!" he cried. "This is extraordinary! This is not what you
expect!" He read:
"Dear Mr. Deaves:
The securities came safely to hand. Many thanks for your promptness
and courtesy in the matter. To be sure, your employee did not obey
instructions, but as it happened, no harm came of it. We trust your
father got home all right. We so much enjoyed having him with us.
Well, Mr. Deaves, this terminates our very pleasant business relations;
that is to say it will terminate them, unless you are disposed to fall
in with the new proposition we are about to put up to you----"
George Deaves groaned at this point.
"Wait!" said Evan. "It is not what you think!" He resumed:
"As a testimonial of our gratitude for your favours, we purpose with
your approval, to apply your father's great contribution to a worthy
charitable cause in his name. Let Mr. Deaves write a letter to Mr.
Cornelius Verplanck, president of the Amsterdam Trust Company,
according to the form marked enclosure No. 1. This to be mailed him at
once. If this is done in time, the enclosure marked No. 2 will appear
in all the New York evening papers.
Very sincerely,
THE IKUNAHKATSI.
P. S. It is scarcely necessary to state that Mr. Verplanck does not
know the writer or any of his associates. We have chosen him simply
because of his national reputation for philanthropy."
"I don't understand," murmured Deaves in a daze. "What are the
enclosures?"
Evan read: "Enclosure No. 1: form of letter to be sent to Mr.
Verplanck."
"Dear Mr. Verplanck:
In the course of the day you will receive from me the sum of four
hundred thousand dollars in U. S. Government bonds. My wish is that
you establish with this sum a fund to be known as the Simeon Deaves
Trust, the income of which is to be applied to providing outings on the
water for the convalescent poor children of the city. Draw the deed of
trust in such a way that the donor cannot at any time later withdraw
his gift. Let there be three trustees yourself (if you will be so good
as to serve) myself, and a third to be selected by the other two."
Deaves stared. "And the newspaper story?" he murmured.
Evan read:
"It appears that Simeon Deaves has been the victim of an undeserved
unpopularity. Instead of being the soulless money-changer, as the
popular view had it, an individual without a thought or desire in life
except to heap up riches, he has placed himself in the ranks of our
most splendid philanthropists by the creation of the Deaves Trust, the
facts of which became known to-day. A sum approximating half a million
dollars has been set aside for the purpose of providing fresh air
excursions for the convalescent children of the poor. In the
administration of the fund Mr. Deaves has associated with himself Mr.
Cornelius Verplanck whose name is synonymous with good works. There is
to be a third trustee not yet named.
"The convalescent children of the poor! It would be difficult to think
of a more praiseworthy object. To bring roses back to little pale
cheeks, and the sparkle to dull eyes! Those who have thought harshly
of Simeon Deaves owe him a silent apology. Perhaps while people
reviled him, he has been carrying out many a good work in secret.
Perhaps that was his way of enjoying a joke at the expense of his
detractors.
"When approached to-day Mr. Deaves with characteristic modesty, refused
to say a word on the subject, referring all inquiries to his associate
Mr. Verplanck. Mr. Verplanck said: (_Add interview Verplanck._)"
Deaves rose out of his chair. His gaze was a little wild. "Do you
suppose--they would really print that--about my father?" he gasped.
"They say they will," said Evan with a disinterested air.
"I--I can't believe it! It's a joke of some kind!"
"It's worth trying. They don't ask for anything."
"What am I to do?" cried Deaves distractedly.
"Put it up to your father."
"He would never consent!"
"Why not? The money's gone anyway. He might as well have the
reputation of a philanthropist. Won't cost any more."
"He _would_ consent! That's the worst of it. He'd write that letter
to Verplanck. Then as soon as Verplanck got the bonds he'd go to him
and demand them back. There'd be a horrible scandal then!"
This was a possibility that had not occurred to Evan. His spirits went
down. At the moment no way of getting around the difficulty occurred
to him.
But George Deaves visibly nerved himself to make a resolution. "I'll
write the letter myself!" he said. "I'll create the trust in Papa's
name. I won't tell him anything about it until it's too late for him
to withdraw. He couldn't get the money back anyhow, if I sent it to
Verplanck as from myself."
Evan was quick to see the advantages of this arrangement, but he took
care not to show too much eagerness. "Very good," he said, "if you are
willing to take the responsibility."
A round pink spot showed in either of Deaves' waxy cheeks. "Willing!"
he said, with more spirit than Evan had ever seen him display. "I'd do
anything, _anything_, to get such a story in the papers! It will make
the family! And how pleased Mrs. Deaves will be!"
Evan had his own ideas as to that, but he did not voice them.
Deaves wrote the letter.
"Would you mind posting it on your way out?" he said.
"I'll take it directly to Mr. Verplanck's office, since time is an
object," said Evan casually.
"If you will be so good," said Deaves. A sudden terrified thought
arrested him in the act of turning over the letter. "But suppose the
bonds are not forthcoming?" he said. "Could Verplanck come down on me
for them?"
"Certainly not," said Evan. "His concern in the matter doesn't begin
until he gets the securities."
"Well, I'll take a chance," said Deaves, handing over the letter.
It is hardly necessary to state that Mr. Verplanck received both the
letter and the bonds in short order.