CHAPTER I_The Money Gods

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THE MONEY GODS

ELLERY H. CLARK

Author of "Loaded Dice," "The Carlton Case," "Ebenezer's Millions,"

"Pharos," "Dick Randall," "The Camp at Sea Duck Cove," &c.

1922

BOSTON NEW YORK

THE CORNHILL PUBLISHING COMPANY

RIGHTS, SERIAL RIGHTS, AND INCLUDING THAT OF TRANSLATION

INTO FOREIGN LANGUAGES, INCLUDING THE SCANDINAVIAN

PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

THE JORDAN & MORE PRESS

BOSTON

Dr. and Mrs. L. D. Shepard

CONTENTS

CHAPTER

I Hide and Seek.

II Tangled Threads.

III The Golfers.

IV A Flurry in the Market.

V Fools Rush In.

VI Misery Meets Company.

VII The Adventure of Blagden.

VIII The Adventure of Tubby Mills.

IX A Message from the Past.

X The Adventure of Atherton.

XI A Fresh Start.

XII The Flight of Bellingham.

XIII The Great Secret.

XIV A Triple Discovery.

XV Thrust and Parry.

XVI The Final Effort.

XVII The Power and the Glory.

XVIII Fate is Fickle.

XIX The Sowers of the Wind.

XX The End.

THE MONEY GODS

CHAPTER I

Hide And Seek

Outside the open window, clustering ramblers flecked the wall with

crimson, and the ceaseless murmur of the questing bees filled the

midsummer air with melody. No other sound disturbed the silence of the

study, where Marshall Hamilton, President of the Standard Bank, and

his secretary, Hugh Bellingham, sat facing one another at the table in

the centre of the room. One by one, the capitalist was disposing of

the documents before him, working rapidly, but with the absolute

precision acquired by years of experience in the world of high

finance. A note here, a numeral there, a word of explanation to the

secretary; at length he had completed his task.

"That will be all, Bellingham," he said curtly. "When you've attended

to these, you may have the rest of the day to yourself. I'm expecting

some friends to play golf."

Bellingham rose, picked up the papers from the table, and with a

murmured word of thanks made his way slowly up the broad staircase to

his pleasant, airy room at the top of the house. Yet it was evident

that he viewed the prospect of a holiday with indifference, for as he

seated himself at his desk and gazed forth over Marshall Hamilton's

broad acres, the look upon his face was one of discouragement

bordering on despair, while his thoughts, gloomily disconsolate, were

divided between pity for himself and envy of his employer. How would

it feel, he wondered, to change places with the banker, if only for a

day, and to become the owner of these well-kept lawns, these groves of

birch and pine, the hills and valleys of the links and the sea-blue

river winding its leisurely way through the green and fertile meadows

on its journey toward the sea. That would indeed be happiness, and

more glorious still would be the knowledge that he was one of the "big

men" of Wall Street, not only a multi-millionaire, but a director in a

score of huge companies and the organizer of mighty enterprises. For

an instant, as he sat staring into the sunshine and letting his fancy

roam at will, he almost succeeded in realizing his dream, but the next

moment, with a sudden start, he came to himself again--Hugh

Bellingham, private secretary at a salary of two thousand a year, and

with debts so urgent and so impossible of payment that the very

thought of them was a perpetual torment, causing him anxious days and

sleepless nights, and robbing his life of all pretence of happiness.

"Money," he reflected, "I've got to find it. A lot of it, too. Ten

thousand dollars, at the least. But Heaven knows where it's coming

from, and if I don't have it soon--"

A shrug of his shoulders completed the sentence, and rousing himself

with a sigh from his vain imaginings, he turned to the papers before

him and was about to begin work in earnest when he heard the patter of

footsteps coming swiftly down the hallway toward his room, and at the

sound shook his head in humorous despair. "Young Marshall," he said to

himself. "No chance for writing now." And scarcely had the words

passed his lips when the door flew violently open and Marshall

Hamilton, Junior, a handsome boy of seven, burst explosively into the

room, and without wasting time on preliminary greetings, hastened to

announce the purpose of his visit.

"I say, Hugh," he cried, "I've finished my lunch, and Miss Wilton's

still at the table, stuffing like a pig. So let's play hide and seek."

Abruptly, Bellingham swept his papers together, thrust them into the

drawer of his desk, and rose acquiescently from his chair. "Very well,

sir," he rejoined, "if you say hide and seek, then hide and seek it

is. And I suppose you want me to be 'it' so that you can have all the

fun and make me do all the work."

But the boy shook his curly head. "No, no, Hugh," he cried, "you're

wrong about that. _I_ want to be the hunter; that's the mostest fun.

And don't you hide--" he added, raising an admonishing finger, "in any

easy baby place like curtains, the way you did last time. I want to

have a real 'citing hunt, so you must choose the hardest place you

can. Now then, I'll give you a fair start; I'll count three hundred by

ones. Ready, Hugh--" and seating himself in the chair which the

secretary had just left, he buried his face in his hands and began to

count rapidly to himself in a buzzing undertone, while Bellingham,

crossing the room on tiptoe, made his way quickly out into the

corridor, wondering where he might find a hiding place sufficiently

inaccessible to satisfy the aspirations of the hunter.

Near the turn in the hallway, he paused opposite the picture gallery;

and, seized by a sudden impulse, entered, closed the door behind him,

and for a moment stood motionless, temporarily blinded by the

transition from the glare outside to the semi-darkness within.

Presently, however, his sight returned to him, and at once, in the

vague half-light, he became aware of an uncomfortable feeling that the

ancestral Hamiltons upon the walls were peering down at him through

the gloom with a hostile and disapproving gaze, as though resenting

his presence in the room. But time pressed, and the secretary, still

governed by the impulse which had bade him enter, did not stop to

analyze this impression, but instead turned hastily from the

unfriendly portraits to the four suits of massive armor which flanked

the door, bulking grimly upon their pedestals, survivals of those

far-off days when the fighting Hamiltons of old had girt their swords

about them, and had gone blithely forth to do battle with their foes.

Toward the nearest of these Bellingham made his way, and a few moments

later stood safely entrenched within his shell of steel, securely

hidden from view and smiling to himself as he reflected that he had

unquestionably found a place difficult enough to test the ingenuity of

his pursuer.

The seconds passed. Evidently the boy was making a thorough search of

Bellingham's chamber, for no sound disturbed the quiet of the gallery

until all at once, with a swiftness which made Bellingham start, he

heard the door suddenly opened and closed again, and immediately

afterward became aware that someone was hastily crossing the room. For

the moment, with his field of vision restricted by the bars of his

helmet, he could not tell who the visitor might be, yet he felt

certain that the footsteps could not be those of a child, and the next

instant proved that he was right as there appeared before his startled

eyes the figure, not of the boy from whom he was hiding, but of

Marshall Hamilton himself. A singular time, thought the bewildered

secretary, for his employer to be visiting the gallery, and the

banker's subsequent actions were more remarkable still, for walking

directly up to one of the portraits, a dignified Hamilton of the

seventeenth century with ruff at neck and sword at side, the financier

stopped short, listened for a moment, and then, casting a quick glance

over his shoulder, raised his hand and apparently touched some portion

of the picture, whereupon, to Bellingham's amazement, the portrait,

frame and all, swung smoothly back; the banker, without hesitation,

stepped quickly through the orifice thus made, and an instant later

the picture had slipped noiselessly into place again, and all was once

more silent in the room.

For the moment, Bellingham experienced nothing but the most intense

astonishment, yet almost at once this feeling gave place to one of

apprehension and dismay, for it was only too evident that the exit

which he had just witnessed was something which he had never been

meant to see, and that if his eavesdropping should be discovered, he

would be placed in a position of obvious embarrassment, and perhaps of

actual danger. And moreover, since young Marshall was a great chum of

his father, it seemed equally clear that if the boy should find the

secretary's hiding place, news of it would inevitably come to the

banker's ears; and accordingly Bellingham, without losing an instant,

made haste to emerge from his place of concealment, and stepping

quickly to the door of the gallery, opened it just in time to hear the

boy's voice crying impatiently, "Make a noise, Hugh; I can't find you.

Make a noise, quick."

Like a flash, Bellingham darted across the hall, entered a spare

bedroom, and with a sigh of relief dropped behind a table, at the same

time calling aloud to guide the hunter. Instantly the boy came

storming down the hall, captured his quarry in triumph and began

clamoring eagerly for another game. But fortunately for Bellingham,

Miss Wilton, having completed the process of "stuffing like a pig,"

now appeared upon the scene and took command of her charge.

"You're to come driving with me, Marshall," she announced, and turning

to the secretary, she added, "And Miss Helen wishes to know, sir, if

you would care to play a round of golf with her at five o'clock?"

Bellingham, his mind still in confusion, stood staring at her as if he

found it difficult to comprehend her words, but at length he managed

to answer, with an effort, "Yes indeed, I'll play with pleasure," and

as the boy and his governess disappeared down the staircase, he stood

for some moments gazing after them; then with a muttered, "Well, I'll

be damned," he turned on his heel, and walked rapidly away down the

corridor.