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A WOMAN INTERVENES
BY
ROBERT BARR
AUTHOR OF
'IN THE MIDST OF ALARMS,' 'IN A STEAMER CHAIR,' 'FROM WHOSE BOURNE,'
ETC.
WITH EIGHT ILLUSTRATIONS BY HAL HURST
1896
TO
MY FRIEND
HORACE HART
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
'I HAD NO INTENTION OF INSULTING YOU' _Frontispiece_
WENTWORTH SHOWED HER HOW TO TURN IT ROUND
MISS JENNIE ALLOWED HIM TO ADJUST THE WRAPS AROUND HER
'OH, YES! YOU WILL STAY,' CRIED THE OTHER
SHE WALKED ALONE UP AND DOWN THE PROMENADE
SHE SPRANG SUDDENLY TO HER FEET
'YOU HAVE A PRODIGIOUS HEAD FOR BUSINESS'
EDITH LONGWORTH HAD SAT DOWN BESIDE HIM
CHAPTER I.
The managing editor of the _New York Argus_ sat at his desk with a deep
frown on his face, looking out from under his shaggy eyebrows at the
young man who had just thrown a huge fur overcoat on the back of one
chair, while he sat down himself on another.
'I got your telegram,' began the editor. 'Am I to understand from it that
you have failed?'
'Yes, sir,' answered the young man, without the slightest hesitation.
'Completely?'
'Utterly.'
'Didn't you even get a synopsis of the documents?'
'Not a hanged synop.'
The editor's frown grew deeper. The ends of his fingers drummed nervously
on the desk.
'You take failure rather jauntily, it strikes me,' he said at last.
'What's the use of taking it any other way? I have the consciousness of
knowing that I did my best.'
'Um, yes. It's a great consolation, no doubt, but it doesn't count in
the newspaper business. What did you do?'
'I received your telegram at Montreal, and at once left for Burnt
Pine--most outlandish spot on earth. I found that Kenyon and
Wentworth were staying at the only hotel in the place. Tried to worm
out of them what their reports were to be. They were very polite, but
I didn't succeed. Then I tried to bribe them, and they ordered me out
of the room.'
'Perhaps you didn't offer them enough.'
'I offered double what the London Syndicate was to pay them for making
the report, taking their own word for the amount. I couldn't offer more,
because at that point they closed the discussion by ordering me out of
the room. I tried to get the papers that night, on the quiet, out of
Wentworth's valise, but was unfortunately interrupted. The young men
were suspicious, and next morning they left for Ottawa to post the
reports, as I gathered afterwards, to England. I succeeded in getting
hold of the reports, but I couldn't hang on. There are too many police
in Ottawa to suit me.'
'Do you mean to tell me,' said the editor, 'that you actually had the
reports in your hands, and that they were taken from you?'
'Certainly I had; and as to their being taken from me, it was either that
or gaol. They don't mince matters in Canada as they do in the United
States, you know.'
'But I should think a man of your shrewdness would have been able to get
at least a synopsis of the reports before letting them out of his
possession.'
'My dear sir,' said the reporter, rather angry, 'the whole thing covered
I forget how many pages of foolscap paper, and was the most mixed-up
matter I ever saw in my life. I tried--I sat in my room at the hotel, and
did my best to master the details. It was full of technicalities, and I
couldn't make it out. It required a mining expert to get the hang of
their phrases and figures, so I thought the best thing to do was to
telegraph it all straight through to New York. I knew it would cost a lot
of money, but I knew, also, you didn't mind that; and I thought, perhaps,
somebody here could make sense out of what baffled me; besides, I wanted
to get the documents out of my possession just as quickly as possible.'
'Hem!' said the editor. 'You took no notes whatever?'
'No, I did not. I had no time. I knew the moment they missed the
documents they would have the detectives on my track. As it was, I was
arrested when I entered the telegraph-office.'
'Well, it seems to me,' said the managing editor, 'if I had once had the
papers in my hand, I should not have let them go until I had got the gist
of what was in them.'
'Oh, it's all very well for you to say so,' replied the reporter, with
the free and easy manner in which an American newspaper man talks to his
employer; 'but I can tell you, with a Canadian gaol facing a man, it is
hard to decide what is best to do. I couldn't get out of the town for
three hours, and before the end of that time they would have had my
description in the hands of every policeman in the place. They knew well
enough who took the papers, so my only hope lay in getting the thing
telegraphed through; and if that had been accomplished, everything would
have been all right. I would have gone to gaol with pleasure if I had
got the particulars through to New York.'
'Well, what are we to do now?' asked the editor.
'I'm sure I don't know. The two men will be in New York very shortly.
They sail, I understand, on the _Caloric_, which leaves in a week. If you
think you have a reporter who can get the particulars out of these men, I
should be very pleased to see you set him on. I tell you it isn't so easy
to discover what an Englishman doesn't want you to know.'
'Well,' said the editor, 'perhaps that's true. I will think about it. Of
course you did your best, and I appreciate your efforts; but I am sorry
you failed.'
'You are not half so sorry as I am,' said Rivers, as he picked up his big
Canadian fur coat and took his leave.
The editor did think about it. He thought for fully two minutes. Then he
dashed off a note on a sheet of paper, pulled down the little knob that
rang the District Messenger alarm, and when the uniformed boy appeared,
gave him the note, saying:
'Deliver this as quickly as you can.'
The boy disappeared, and the result of his trip was soon apparent in the
arrival of a very natty young woman in the editorial rooms. She was
dressed in a neatly-fitting tailor-made costume, and was a very pretty
girl, who looked about nineteen, but was, in reality, somewhat older. She
had large, appealing blue eyes, with a tender, trustful expression in
them, which made the ordinary man say: 'What a sweet, innocent look that
girl has!' yet, what the young woman didn't know about New York was not
worth knowing. She boasted that she could get State secrets from
dignified members of the Cabinet, and an ordinary Senator or Congressman
she looked upon as her lawful prey. That which had been told her in the
strictest confidence had often become the sensation of the next day in
the paper she represented. She wrote over a _nom de guerre_, and had
tried her hand at nearly everything. She had answered advertisements,
exposed rogues and swindlers, and had gone to a hotel as chambermaid, in
order to write her experiences. She had been arrested and locked up, so
that she might write a three-column account, for the Sunday edition of
the _Argus_, of 'How Women are Treated at Police Headquarters.' The
editor looked upon her as one of the most valuable members of his staff,
and she was paid accordingly.
She came into the room with the self-possessed air of the owner of the
building, took a seat, after nodding to the editor, and said, 'Well?'
'Look here, Jennie,' began that austere individual, 'do you wish to take
a trip to Europe?'
'That depends,' said Jennie; 'this is not just the time of year that
people go to Europe for pleasure, you know.'
'Well, this is not exactly a pleasure trip. The truth of the matter is,
Rivers has been on a job and has bungled it fearfully, besides nearly
getting himself arrested.'
The young woman's eyes twinkled. She liked anything with a spice of
danger in it, and did not object to hear that she was expected to succeed
where a mere masculine reporter had failed.
The editor continued:
'Two young men are going across to England on the _Caloric_. It sails in
a week. I want you to take a ticket for Liverpool by that boat, and
obtain from either of those two men the particulars--the _full_
particulars--of reports they have made on some mining properties in
Canada. Then you must land at Queenstown and cable a complete account to
the _Argus_.'
'Mining isn't much in my line,' said Miss Jennie, with a frown on her
pretty brow. 'What sort of mines were they dealing with--gold, silver,
copper, or what?'
'They are certain mines on the Ottawa River.'
'That's rather indefinite.'
'I know it is. I can't give you much information about the matter. I
don't know myself, to tell the truth, but I know it is vitally important
that we should get a synopsis of what the reports of these young men are
to be. A company, called the London Syndicate, has been formed in
England. This syndicate is to acquire a large number of mines in Canada,
if the accounts given by the present owners are anything like correct.
Two men, Kenyon and Wentworth--the first a mining engineer, and the
second an experienced accountant--have been sent from London to Canada,
one to examine the mines, the other to examine the books of the various
corporations. Whether the mines are bought or not will depend a good deal
on the reports these two men have in their possession. The reports, when
published, will make a big difference, one way or the other, on the Stock
Exchange. I want to have the gist of them before the London Syndicate
sees them. It will be a big thing for the _Argus_ if it is the first in
the field, and I am willing to spend a pile of hard cash to succeed. So,
don't economize on your cable expenses.'
'Very well; have you a book on Canadian mines?'
'I don't know that we have; but there is a book here, "The Mining
Resources of Canada;" will that be of any use?'
'I shall need something of that sort. I want to be a little familiar with
the subject, you know.'
'Quite so,' said the editor; 'I will see what can be got in that line.
You can read it before you start, and on the way over.'
'All right,' said Miss Jennie; 'and am I to take my pick of the two
young men?'
'Certainly,' answered the editor. 'You will see them both, and can easily
make up your mind which will the sooner fall a victim.'
'The _Caloric_ sails in a week, does it?'
'Yes.'
'Then I shall need at least five hundred dollars to get new dresses
with.'
'Good gracious!' cried the editor.
'There is no "good gracious" about it. I'm going to travel as a
millionaire's daughter, and it isn't likely that one or two dresses will
do me all the way over.'
'But you can't get new dresses made in a week,' said the editor.
'Can't I? Well, you just get me the five hundred dollars, and I'll see
about the making.'
The editor jotted the amount down.
'You don't think four hundred dollars would do?' he said.
'No, I don't. And, say, am I to get a trip to Paris after this is over,
or must I come directly back?'
'Oh, I guess we can throw in the trip to Paris,' said the editor.
'What did you say the names of the young men are?--or are they not
young? Probably they are old fogies, if they are in the mining business.'
'No; they are young, they are shrewd, and they are English. So you see
your work is cut out for you. Their names are George Wentworth and
John Kenyon.'
'Oh, Wentworth is my man,' said the young woman breezily. 'John Kenyon! I
know just what sort of a person he is--sombre and taciturn. Sounds too
much like John Bunyan, or John Milton, or names of that sort.'
'Well, I wouldn't be too sure about it until you see them. Better not
make up your mind about the matter.'
'When shall I call for the five hundred dollars?'
'Oh, that you needn't trouble about. The better way is to get your
dresses made, and tell the people to send the bills to our office.'
'Very well,' said the young woman. 'I shall be ready. Don't be frightened
at the bills when they come in. If they come up to a thousand dollars,
remember I told you I would let you off for five hundred dollars.'
The editor looked at her for a moment, and seemed to reflect that
perhaps it was better not to give a young lady unlimited credit in New
York. So he said:
'Wait a bit; I'll write you out the order, and you can take it
downstairs.'
Miss Jennie took the paper when it was offered to her, and disappeared.
When she presented the order in the business office, the cashier raised
his eyebrows as he noticed the amount, and, with a low whistle, said to
himself:
'Five hundred dollars! I wonder what game Jennie Brewster's up to now.'