CHAPTER XXII

A FOOL

The big day came for which Rimrock had waited, the day when he could

strike his first blow. In his room at the Waldorf he had installed

special telephone connections, with a clerk to answer his calls; and

close by the table, where he could follow his campaign, a stock ticker

stamped away at its tape. It was the morning of the twenty-third of

December, and he had wired L. W. for his money. All was ready now for

the first raid on Navajoa and he went down to see Buckbee, the broker.

"Mr. Buckbee," he said when he had him by himself, "I just want to find

where you're at. You introduced me to Stoddard and, as it turned out,

we all of us made on the deal. But here's the question--if it came to

a show-down, would you be for Stoddard, or me?"

"Why, my dear friend Rimrock," answered Buckbee jovially, "I'm afraid

you don't get me right. That little deal with Stoddard was strictly on

the side--my business is to buy and sell stock. An order from you will

look just as good to me as one from Whitney H. Stoddard, and it will be

executed just as carefully. But if it's Navajoa you have on your mind

my advice is positively to lay off. I'll buy or sell as much Navajoa

as you want for the regular brokerage fee, but get this straight--when

you go up against Stoddard you stand to lose your whole roll. Now

shoot, and I give you my word of honor to execute your orders to the

letter."

"All right," said Rimrock, "sell ten thousand shares short. Dump 'em

over--I want Navajoa to go down."

"It'll go down," answered Buckbee as he scribbled out the order. "At

what point do you want me to buy?"

"Don't want to buy," replied Rimrock grimly and Buckbee shook his head.

"All right, my boy," he said debonairly, "there'll be wild doings this

day in Navajoa. But it's people like you that makes the likes of me

rich, so divvel another word will I say."

Rimrock returned to his room and sat watching the tape as the ticker

champed it out and soon he saw Navajoa. It had been quoted at

thirty-two and a half, but this sale was made at thirty. He watched it

decline to twenty-eight, and twenty-five, and soon it was down to

twenty. He called up Buckbee.

"Sell ten thousand more," he ordered and Buckbee went on with the

slaughter. Navajoa went down to eighteen and sixteen and then it

jumped back to twenty. Big buying developed, but still Rimrock sold

short and again Navajoa slumped. At the end of the day it stood at

twenty and he prepared for the next step in his campaign. He had

beaten Navajoa down to nearly half its former price and without parting

with a single share. He had at that moment, in stock bought and paid

for, enough to cover all his short selling--this raid was to call out

more. When stock is going up the people cling to it, but when it drops

they rush to sell. Already he could see the small sales of the pikers

as they were shaken down for their shares. The next thing to do, as he

had learned the game, was to buy in; and then hammer it again.

On the twenty-fourth, the day before Christmas, he bought till he could

buy no more; and still the price stayed down. It was the holidays

slump, so the brokers said, but it suited him to a nicety. The next

day was Christmas and he wired once more for his money, for L. W. had

not answered his first telegram; and then he went out with the boys.

Since his break with Mrs. Hardesty he had taken to dodging into the

bar, where he could be safe from her subtle advances; but on Christmas

eve he went too far. They all went too far, in the matter of drinking,

but Rimrock went too far with Buckbee. He told him just exactly what

he intended to do to Stoddard; which was indiscreet, to say the least.

But Buckbee, who was likewise in an expansive mood, told in turn

everything he knew; and the following day, as Rimrock thought it over,

he wondered if he had not been wrong.

Buckbee had assured him that the stock on the market represented less

than half of the Navajoa capitalization; and if that was the case it

was hopeless, of course, to try to break Stoddard's control. But,

strictly as a friend and for old time's sake, Buckbee had offered to

sell Rimrock's stock at a profit; he had even gone further and promised

to pass it on to Stoddard, who was in the market to protect his

holdings. At twenty-four, which was where it was selling, Rimrock

would clean up a tidy sum; and every cent of that absolute velvet would

come out of Stoddard's pocket. It was a great temptation, but as

Rimrock sobered he remembered that it was a fight to a finish. He had

set out to break Whitney Stoddard.

The next morning at ten he sat at his desk waiting expectantly for the

Stock Exchange to open. It was to have been his big day when, with

over a million dollars from his dividends, he had intended to buy in

Navajoa. But there was one thing that left him uneasy--his money had

not come. If it had been sent by registered mail the Christmas glut

would easily account for the delay, but three telegrams had remained

also unanswered. He pondered for a moment, whether to wire to Mary or

not, and then the telephone rang.

"Hello?" said a voice, "this is Buckbee speaking. What do you think

about the proposition I made?"

"What proposition?" demanded Rimrock and then he grunted intolerantly

as Buckbee renewed his offer for the stocks. "You must be drunk!" he

said at the end and a merry laugh came back over the 'phone.

"No, all joking aside--I'm sober now. What do you say to twenty-four?"

"Too little!" bluffed Rimrock. "I want at least thirty."

"Will you take that?"

"No!" replied Rimrock, "nor thirty-five. I'm in the market to buy!"

"Well, how much do you want, then?" began Buckbee eagerly, "it's all

the same to me. As long as it moves and I get my commission I don't

care who buys the stock. But I'll tell you one thing--you'll have to

put up more margin if you start to bidding it up. Twenty per cent., at

the least, and if it goes above thirty I'll demand a full fifty per

cent. You want to remember, Old Scout, that every time you buy on a

margin the bank puts up the rest; and if that stock goes down they'll

call your loan and you're legally liable for the loss. You'll have to

step lively if you buck Whitney H. Stoddard--he's liable to smash the

price down to nothing."

"I'll show him!" gritted Rimrock, "but I'll call up that bank first and

find out just how far I can go. A man like me, worth fifty millions at

least----"

"Ye-es!" jeered Buckbee, and as the broker hung up Rimrock called the

president of the bank. It took time to get him, but when Rimrock

stated his case he promised an immediate report. The answer came

within half en hour--he could borrow up to five hundred thousand.

"All right," said Rimrock, and calling up Buckbee he told him to go

ahead and buy.

"How much?" enquired Buckbee.

"Buy all you can get," answered Rimrock briefly and hurried off to the

bank.

"Now about this loan," said the president pleasantly, "I find we have

already given you money on your note up to nearly the entire five

hundred thousand. Of course there's no question of your ability to

pay, but wouldn't it be more businesslike if you could put up a little

collateral?",

"For instance?" said Rimrock and at the note of antagonism the

president was quick to explain.

"Of course you understand," he went on cordially, "you are good, as far

as I'm concerned. But we have such troublesome things as bank

examiners, and the law is very strict. In fact, a loan of half a

million dollars on the unendorsed note of one man----"

"How much do you want?" asked Rimrock and fetched out a great sheaf of

Navajoa.

"Well--not Navajoa," said the banker uneasily, "we have quite a lot of

that already, on brokers' loans. Mr. Buckbee, you know. But if you

would just put up, say two thousand shares of Tecolote----"

"No!"

"We could loan you up to two million."

The president paused and glanced at him mildly, but Rimrock had thrown

down his stock.

"No," he said, "you can take this Navajoa or I'll quit and go somewhere

else. I wouldn't put up a single share of Tecolote if you'd give me

your whole, danged bank."

"Very well," said the president with a fleeting smile, "we'll accept

your Navajoa. My secretary will arrange it--but mind this is on a call

loan! Give him credit for five hundred more," he added and the clerk

showed Rimrock out.

There are certain formalities that the richest must observe before they

can borrow half a million and it was nearly noon before Rimrock was

free and on his way to the hotel. He was just leaping out of his

taxicab when he saw Mrs. Hardesty reeling towards him.

"Oh, Rimrock!" she gasped, "I've had such a blow--won't you take me

back to my rooms? Oh, I can't explain it, but Whitney H. Stoddard is

trying to force me to give up my stock! That Tecolote stock----"

"Here, get into this taxi!" said Rimrock on the instant, "now where do

you want to go?"

"To the St. Cyngia on Ninety-fifth Street--and hurry!" she commanded;

and the chauffeur slammed the door.

"Now what's the matter?" demanded Rimrock hurriedly. "I haven't got a

minute to spare. Did you notice Navajoa? Well, I've got a buy order

in----"

"Oh, no! I've seen nothing--not since he sent me that message! It

seems he's back in town."

"Who? Whitney Stoddard? Well, let me get out then--I've got to get

back to that tape!"

"Oh, no!" she murmured sinking against him with a shudder, "don't go

and leave me alone. I need your help, Rimrock! My whole fortune is

involved. It's either that or give back the stock."

"What stock?" asked Rimrock, "that two thousand Tecolote? Well, you

just give that to me! Have you really got it, or are you just

stalling? Let me look at it and I'll see you through hell!"

"It's in my apartment," she answered weakly. "I'll show it to you when

we are there. Ah, Rimrock, something told me you would come to save

me. But--oh, I'm ready to fall."

She dropped against him and the startled Rimrock took her quickly

within his arm. They rode on swiftly and as she lay panting on his

breast she told him the story of her misfortune.

"I don't deserve it," she said, "to have you help me, because I started

to do you a wrong. I didn't know you then, nor your generous

heart--and so I made the agreement with Stoddard. I was to go to

Gunsight and get acquainted with you and get you to come back to New

York--and for that I was to receive two thousand shares of Tecolote

stock. Oh, not as a present--I'd never think of that--but far below

what they are worth. It would take all the money I had in the world

just to make a part payment on the stock. But I knew how wonderfully

valuable they were and so I took the chance."

She sighed and leaned against him closer while Rimrock listened eagerly

for the rest.

"Can you understand now why I've seemed worried, and anxious and why

I've concealed my affairs? I went there and met you, but when I

refused to betray you I found I was caught in a trap. Whitney Stoddard

is hounding you in every possible way to make you give up your mine,

and after I refused to give back my stock he set out deliberately to

ruin me!"

She shuddered and lay silent and Rimrock moved uneasily.

"What was it he wanted you to do?" he asked at last and she tore

herself swiftly away.

"I can't tell you--here. But come up to my rooms. I defied him, but I

did it for you."

She fell quickly to rearranging her hair and hat in preparation for the

short dash past the doorman and at the end she looked at him and smiled.

"I knew you would come," she said; and as he helped her out he thrilled

to the touch of her hand. At odd times before she had seemed old and

blasé, but now she was young and all-alive. He dismissed the taxi

without a thought of his business and they hurried up to her

apartments. She let herself in and as she locked the door behind them

she reached up and took his big hat.

"You must stay a while," she said. "The servants are gone and I have

no one to protect me if they come to serve the papers. Just start the

fire--and if anyone knocks don't let them break down the door."

She smiled again and a sudden giddiness seemed to blind Rimrock and

make him doubt where he was. He looked about at the silken rugs and

the luxurious hangings on the walls and wondered if it was the same

place as before. Even when he lit the laid fire and sank down on a

divan he still felt the sweet confusion of a dream; and then she came

back, suddenly transformed by a soft house-gown, and looked him

questioningly in the face.

"Can you guess," she asked as she sat down beside him, "what it was

that he wanted me to do? No, not to betray you or get possession of

your stock--all he asked was that I should marry you."

"Marry me!" exclaimed Rimrock and his keen, staring eyes suddenly

narrowed as she bowed her head.

"Yes, marry you," she said. "That was what made it so hard. Did you

notice, when I stopped inviting you here? I was afraid, my Rimrock; I

was afraid I might forget and--marry you. That was the one spot where

Stoddard's plan failed, he forgot that I might fall in love. I loved

you, Rimrock, loved you too much to marry you, and so I broke up all

his plans. If I had married you, don't you see how easy it would have

been for me to get hold of your stock? And that girl out there--the

one I don't like--she would have thrown her vote to Stoddard. That

alone would give him control, they would have fifty per cent. of the

stock."

"No they wouldn't," corrected Rimrock, "not if you've got that two

thousand. That would give us fifty-one per cent!"

A shadow of annoyance passed over her face, as if some part of her plan

had gone wrong, and then her eyes took on a fire.

"'_Us_?'" she said. "Would you have married me, Rimrock? But surely,

not for the stock! Oh, I wish sometimes----" She stopped abruptly and

looked at him strangely and then she hurried on. "Ah, no," she sighed,

"that can never be--you are in love with that other woman--out there.

When you met her at the opera, you forgot all about me. You went off

and left me alone. If Whitney H. Stoddard had called me up then!" Her

eyes flashed dangerously and she looked away, at which Rimrock glanced

quickly at his watch.

"By--grab!" he exclaimed half-rising to his feet, "do you know it's

half-past twelve? Say, where's your telephone? I've got a deal on in

Navajoa and I've just got to find out where I am!"

She rose up suddenly and turned to face him with a look of queenly

scorn.

"I have no telephone!" she answered evenly, "and if I did have I would

not lend it to you. You're just like the rest of these men, I see; you

think in terms of stocks. I should have done as Stoddard said, and

paid you back for your rudeness. Do you know, Mr. Jones, that you

think more of money than of anything else in the world? Are you aware

of the fact that all the love and devotion that any poor woman might

bestow would be wholly wasted, and worse than wasted, on a miserable

stock-gambler like you! Ah, I was a fool!" she burst out, stamping her

foot in a passion; and then she sank back on the divan and wept.

Rimrock stood and gazed at her, then glanced absently at his watch and

looked about, shamefaced, for a 'phone. But in that elegant apartment,

with its rich furnishings and tapestries there was no place for a

crude, commercial telephone, and the door to the inner room was closed.

He turned towards the outer door, for his business was urgent, but she

had carried off the key. He stirred uneasily, and a shrewd doubt

assailed him for her weeping seemed all at once sophisticated and

forced; and at the moment she raised her head. One look and she had

cast herself upon him and twined her arms about his neck.

"I can't help it! I can't help it!" she sobbed convulsively and drew

down his head and kissed him. "I can't help it!" she whispered. "I

love you, Rimrock; I can't bear to let you go!"

She clung to him passionately and with tremulous laughter tugged to

draw him back to the divan, but Rimrock stood upright and stubborn.

Some strange influence, some memory, seemed to sweep into his brain and

make him immune to her charm. It was the memory of a kiss, but not

like her kisses; a kiss that was impulsive and shy. He pondered

laboriously, while he took hold of her hands and slowly drew them away,

and then his strong grip tightened. It was the kiss that Mary had

given him in prison, when she had laid her cheek against the bars!

That kiss had haunted him through the long months of waiting, and it

rose in his memory now, when perhaps it were better forgotten. He put

away the hands that still clung and petted and gazed fiercely into her

eyes. And the woman faced him--without a tear on her cheek for all the

false weeping she had done.

"How's this?" he said and as she sensed his suspicion she jerked back

in sudden defiance.

"A stock-jobber!" she mocked. "All you think of is money. The love of

a woman is nothing to you!"

"Aw, cut out that talk!" commanded Rimrock brutally. "Some women are

stock-jobbers, too. And speaking of stock, just give me a look at

those two thousand shares of Tecolote."

A sullen, sulky pout distorted her mouth and she made a face like a

wilful girl.

"You'd snatch them," she said, "and run away and leave me. And then

what would I say to Stoddard?"

"Are you working for him?" he asked directly and she threw out her arms

in a pet.

"No! I wish I were, but it's too late now. I might have made money,

but as it is I stand to lose everything."

"Oh, you stand to lose everything, do you? Well say, that reminds me,

I guess I stand about the same!"

He picked up his hat and started for the door, but she caught him by

the arm.

"You're going to that woman!" she hissed vindictively, "perhaps I can

tell you something about her. Well, I can!" she declared, "and I can

prove it, too. I can prove it by my Tecolote stock."

"You haven't got any stock," answered Rimrock roughly. But he stopped

and she drew back and smiled.

"Oh!" she said as she noted his interest, "you're beginning to believe

me now. Well, I can show you by the endorsement where she sold out to

Stoddard over a month before I came. She sold him two thousand shares

of Tecolote for exactly two million dollars--and that's why she left

when I came. She was afraid you would find her out. But you, you poor

fool, you thought she was perfect; and had left because her feelings

were hurt! But she couldn't fool me, I could read her like a book, and

I'll tell you what she has done."

"You'll do nothing of the kind!" broke in Rimrock savagely, "you'll go

and get me that stock. I won't believe a word you say----"

"What will you give me if I do?" she demanded coquettishly at the same

time backing away.

"I'll give you a nice, sweet kiss!" answered Rimrock, twisting his

mouth to a sinister smile. "And if you don't----"

"Ah, will you?" she cried as she started towards him and then she

danced mockingly away.

"You can keep it for her!" she flung back bitterly and passed out

through the inner door.

Like a lion held in leash Rimrock paced up and down and then he

listened through the door. All was silent and with a sudden

premonition he laid a quick hand on the knob. The door was locked

against him! He listened again, then spoke through the keyhole, then

raised his voice to a roar. The next moment he set his great shoulder

to the panel, then drew back and listened again. A distant sound, like

a door softly closing, caught his ear and all was still. He hurled

himself with desperate vehemence against the door so treacherously

locked and with a crash it leapt from its hinges and he stumbled into

the room. From where he stood Rimrock looked about in a daze, for the

room was stripped and bare. The table, the furnishings, all that had

made it so intimate when he had dined with the tiger lady before; all

were gone and with the bareness there came a chill and the certainty

that he had been betrayed. He turned and rushed to the outer entrance,

but as he laid violent hands on that door it opened of itself and with

such unexpected suddenness that he fell backwards on the floor. He

rose up cursing, for something told him whose hand had unlocked the

door; but she was gone and all that remained was a scribbled card in

the hall.

"Kiss your money good-bye," was written on its face and on the back:

"I hate a fool."

Rimrock Jones · 第 22 / 26 章