The Adventure of Blagden
"It was two years ago," began Blagden, "on the beach at Trouville. I
shall never forget it. The sea and the sky were blue; the sands were
silver; and you were a marvelous mermaid, in gold and crimson, basking
on the shore. When I saw you, I felt such emotion that I began at once
repeating whole stanzas of Swinburne, appropriate to the occasion, and
rivalling the day in warmth. I hoped--"
But she interrupted him. "It is pathetic," she said, "that a memory so
tenderly poetical should be so much at fault. I am grieved for myself;
I thought I had made a more lasting impression."
"But my memory," he protested, "is not at fault. I remember perfectly.
It was a wonderful costume, almost worthy of its wearer. It was gold,
pale gold--"
"Oh, stupid man!" she cried, "we are not talking of costumes; what do
they matter? We are talking of our first meeting, and that was not at
Trouville at all. Trouville, although delightful, came later. Our
first meeting was at the races--"
"By Jove," he ejaculated, "you're right. So it was--Deauville races.
And you were in the grandstand, in the very first row--"
"That's better," she exclaimed. "Your memory is improving. I was
watching the horses parade before the opening race, and was suddenly
smitten with the charms of a beautiful bay named _Voyageur_.
Immediately I knew that I must bet five hundred francs on _Voyageur_.
The time was short--"
"And so," he smiled, "you made appealing eyes at me--"
"No, no," she contradicted, "I did not. Or if I did, I was quite
justified. You had been staring at me very rudely for some time."
"That is true," he admitted. "I couldn't help myself. But in any
event, we became acquainted, and I placed the money on your favorite.
I recall that distinctly. And I remember thinking, 'Poor girl; poor
lovely girl; she will surely lose.' And then _Voyageur_--"
She in her turn took up the tale. "Oh, wasn't it splendid?" she cried.
"A furlong from home, and we thought that he was beaten, and then,
like a flash, up he came, out of the ruck, past the leaders, won under
wraps, with his jockey sitting still, and both of us shrieking,
'_Voyageur_! _Voyageur!_' like mad."
"It was glorious," he agreed. "And after that do you remember the race
for two-year-olds, and my theory that in an untried field the odds
were all against the favorites winning? I suggested that we buy a
ticket on every horse in the race; you assented, and the theory proved
a magnificent success. We won a thousand francs--"
"And that night," she reminded him, "flushed with victory, we played
roulette. It was I who invented the system then, and unlike yours, it
cost us every cent we had made, and much more besides. Do you remember
that?"
"Of course I do," he answered. "It was the old story; we were winners,
but didn't know when to stop. But it was worth it; those were royal
days."
"And then," she continued, "came our ventures in the market. The rise
in rails that made us rich; and the cotton corner that beggared us.
You haven't forgotten those?"
"Forgotten them?" he echoed. "Could I forget? Ah! what times those
were!"
There was a pause. At length she said musingly, "Two years ago. Two
long years. And how has Fortune treated you? Bountifully, I hope."
Blagden smiled. "I was just complaining to my friends," he said, "that
she had deserted me. And now--she resumes her favors."
She bowed, half in earnest, half jestingly. "You are too kind," she
answered, "but seriously, I am sorry if you have not prospered."
"To be candid," Blagden admitted, "I have not. But I am not
discouraged. Being a Goddess, it is her privilege to be fickle; that,
I suppose, is her real fascination. But tell me how the years have
gone with you. Have you lived as you planned to live?"
She regarded him steadily, and without emotion. "Exactly," she
answered, "as I planned."
He was silent, returning her gaze. "Well," he rejoined at length, "if
it is a matter for congratulation, then I congratulate you. Is he
rich?"
"Oh, very," she responded. "You need hardly have asked me that?"
"Quite true," he answered. "Forgive my stupidity. And are you happy?"
"Why--yes," she replied more doubtfully, "I suppose so. I have a great
deal. I desire more."
"That," he said, "is the chief trouble with all of us. That, in fact,
was the reason for my recent undoing. I risked a moderate capital to
gain a fortune, and was wiped out. I lost everything--hook, line and
sinker."
"I am so sorry," she answered. "Was it in stocks?"
"Next door to it," he responded. "It was January cotton. By every test
in the world, by reasoning, by statistical information, by the opinion
of the trade, by the advice of brokers, by every known method of
determining values, January cotton was the greatest purchase in the
universe. It had to go up, that was all there was to it. It was
mathematically impossible for it to stay down. So I bought it, bought
it up to my eyebrows; and so, I imagine, did every Tom, Dick and Harry
in the Street. Result, a hundred and fifty point drop, swift and
sudden as a hurricane, and when it was over, scattered heaps of
financial corpses, of which I had the honor to be one. I had money,
desired more; and got--what I deserved."
She sighed sympathetically. "I only wish," she murmured, more to
herself than to him, "that I had known."
He regarded her with frank amazement. "What could you have done?" he
queried. "Prevented me from losing?"
"Yes," she answered gravely, "I think that I could. I, of course, know
nothing, but it happens that my friend is a great authority upon the
markets. He is never wrong."
Blagden smiled indulgently. "Oh, I've heard of those fellows," he
responded. "Don't think I'm rude, but there's no such thing in the
world as a man who's never wrong on speculation. He simply doesn't
exist."
"But you don't understand," she insisted. "He _really_ knows."
"Pure coincidence," he retorted lightly. "I've known of such cases. He
might hit it three times, four times, a dozen times, but nobody can be
consistently right. It's humanly impossible."
"It was over six months ago," she rejoined with conviction, "that he
told me to make my first trade. At my cottage he has had installed
tickers for all three of the markets. If he is there between ten and
three, he keeps close watch of them. And every so often he will say,
'Would you like some pin money?' And always I win, and never lose."
"Well," said Blagden lightly, "we won't quarrel over it. If you say
it's so, it's so. But why do you say that you 'desire more?' I should
consider you a very fortunate lady. If I could win every time I
gambled, I don't think I'd require anything else."
"Oh, yes, you would," she promptly answered. "If you were only allowed
to play every week or two, and in a very limited way, and under the
direction of another person, would that satisfy you? Of course not.
The point is here. I am only allowed to meddle with stocks as an
amusement--a plaything. But I want to know how he does it. Then I
should be satisfied, for I could make all the money I wished."
"But why so eager about money?" he queried. "You never used to be."
"In two years," she answered, "I have changed a great deal. I am
older; I hope wiser. I know that youth fades, that life itself is
brief. And before I die, I wish to realize a dream--a vision. I wish
to have the finest pleasure yacht in the world and to voyage north,
south, east, west, until I have seen all that there is to see upon
this earth. Hence my desire for money."
"Now I understand," he replied. Then added, more lightly, "You say you
'want to know how he does it.' Does it appear to be a kind of magic?
Does he make his profits in the same way that a conjuror extracts
rabbits from a hat?"
His levity nettled her. "You are provincial," she retorted sharply.
"You reason that because you have lost money in stocks, everyone must
do so. Often it is foolish to believe too much; but sometimes one may
believe too little."
He hastened to make amends. "I apologize," he said. "You are perfectly
right. And I am really immensely interested in your story. You think,
then, that he speculates with some sort of system?"
"I am sure of it," she answered with conviction, "and when I saw you
here to-night, I suddenly remembered many things that you had told me
about the market, and I wondered if you could not aid me now."
"If I may help," he assured her, "I am wholly at your service. Though
I fear I am somewhat at a loss as to how or where to begin."
"And yet," she rejoined, "there is a starting-point. I am confident of
it. Are you at liberty this evening?"
"Never more so," he answered.
"Then come with me," she said. "I have a taxi waiting." And Blagden,
assisting her to put on her wraps, escorted her to the motor, which
whirled them away from the city, mile after mile, until it finally
stopped at a pretty cottage, far out in the country, isolated and half
hidden in a miniature forest of trees, shrubs and flowers.
A trim maid answered her mistress's ring, then discreetly vanished.
"Now," she said, "I will show you what I mean," and leading the way to
the study on the floor above, she turned the switch and flooded the
room with mellow light. Blagden looked about him with interest. As she
had told him, over against the wall stood the three tickers, side by
side, and beyond them a desk and a telephone switchboard. In spite of
himself, Blagden was impressed. There was an orderliness, an
indefinable businesslike touch to the room and its contents which
seemed to make it evident that its owner was a man of affairs.
"Well," she queried, "do you believe me now?"
"Oh, it's not a question of belief--" he began, but she suddenly
exclaimed, "Wait a moment; I forgot," and hurriedly leaving the room,
she returned almost instantly with a small memorandum book in her
hand. "Now," she said, "look at this."
Blagden took the book and scanned the entries with care. Here was
fifty Reading bought at ninety-three and sold at ninety-eight; and
here one hundred bales of May cotton sold at eighteen, fifty-six, and
bought in at seventeen, fifty-two. A little further on were ten
thousand bushels of December wheat bought at a dollar, fifty-four and
closed out at a dollar, fifty-seven. Sometimes the gains were large,
sometimes small, but invariably, as she had claimed, each transaction
showed a profit. Blagden gazed, fascinated.
"Now," she said, "isn't it wonderful?"
"Wonderful," he echoed. "It's more than that. It's a miracle. If I had
met you six months ago, where would I be to-day? I'd be rolling in it;
I'd be worth a million."
Her face was as covetous as his. "You've been in the market for
years," she said. "Haven't you any way of finding out?"
"I don't know," he answered slowly. "Did you tell me in the cafe you
had a clew?"
She hesitated. "It sounds rather ridiculous," she answered, "but do
you think it's possible that the time of day can have anything to do
with the strength or weakness of stocks?"
He looked disappointed. "Oh, I've heard that talk down town," he
responded. "There are as many theories of speculation as there are
speculators. Everyone agrees that there's manipulation--flagrant
manipulation--though of course this is indignantly denied by everybody
connected with the Exchange. But how this manipulation is managed, no
two men agree. I've heard what you hint at, that the future course of
stocks is determined by their artificial strength or weakness at
certain hours of the day; two o'clock, some people think is the
significant time. Personally I never believed in it at all. Why do you
ask?"
"Because," she answered, "when he stands here by the tickers, he is
continually looking at his watch. I am not supposed to know this; in
fact, between ten and three I am excluded from this room; but I have
devised means of watching, and that is the peculiarity I have noticed;
that, and the jotting down in his notebook of memoranda which he
apparently copies from the tape."
Blagden looked puzzled. "I should be very slow," he said, "to believe
anything of the kind. And I should think you could manage this affair
without my aid. Considering your relations with this man, considering
your very obvious attractions, I should think the stage was all set
for a modern version of Merlin and Vivien."
She smiled a trifle bitterly. "I will confess to you," she answered,
"that the same thing occurred to me. In fact, I attempted it; and
failed utterly. Compared with this--" she indicated the tickers--"I am
the proverbial dust beneath his feet."
There was silence. At length Blagden spoke. "This fascinates me," he
said. "At first, I wholly disbelieved your story; now I do believe it.
And upon one condition, I will devote my time, my energy, my best
endeavor to the solving of this mystery. But the condition is
important."
She regarded him curiously. "Name it," she said.
He rose from his seat, and stood looking at her appraisingly, a cold
flame gleaming in his eyes. "It is this," he answered. "You liked me,
I think, in the old days, but I was a poor man. I am a poor man
to-day. But if we fathom this secret and gain the keys to Paradise,
then let us make the building of your yacht a joint enterprise, and
let us make the cruise--together."
She too had risen and now stood looking at him with a faint smile upon
her lips. "Ours," she responded, "is a quite exceptional friendship.
You are a man and I am a woman, and yet we have the great advantage of
thoroughly understanding one another. If you can grant me my desire, I
will reciprocate. I accept your offer, and I wish you success."