Part 39 (1/2)
”Ha!” I said railingly. He wore a decently respectable suit of ready-made clothes. ”Lost your job and want me to give you a recommendation?”
”I want a few words with you, Chuck, and no fooling. Don't say that you can't spare the time. You've simply _got_ to.”
”With whom am I to talk, James, the groom, or Warburton, the gentleman?”
”You are to talk with the man whose sister you are to marry.”
I became curious, naturally. ”No police affair?”
”No, it's not the police. I can very well go to a lawyer, but I desire absolute secrecy. Let us go up to your rooms at once.”
I led the way. I was beginning to desire to know what all this meant.
”Has anybody recognized you?” I asked, unlocking the door to my apartment.
”No; and I shouldn't care a hang if they had.”
”Oho!”
Warburton flung himself into a chair and lighted a cigar. He puffed it rapidly, while I got together my shaving and toilet sets.
”Start her up,” said I.
”Chuck, when my father died he left nearly a quarter of a million in five per cents; that is to say, Jack, Nancy and I were given a yearly income of about forty-five hundred. Nancy's portion and mine are still in bonds which do not mature till 1900. Jack has made several bad investments, and about half of his is gone; but his wife has plenty, so his losses do not trouble him. Now, I have been rather frugal during the past seven years. I have lived entirely upon my Army pay. I must have something like twenty-five thousand lying in the bank in New York.
On Monday, between three and four o'clock, Colonel Annesley will become practically a beggar, a pauper.”
”What?” My shaving-mug slipped from my hand and crashed to the floor, where it lay in a hundred pieces.
”Yes. He and his daughter will not have a roof of their own: all gone, every stick and stone. Don't ask me any questions; only do as I ask of you.” He took out his check-book and filled out two blanks. These he handed to me. ”The large one I want you to place in the Union bank, to the credit of Colonel Annesley.”
I looked at the check. ”Twenty thousand dollars?” I gasped.
”The Union bank has this day discounted the colonel's note. It falls due on Monday. In order to meet it, he will have to sell what is left of the Virginian estate and his fine horses. The interest will be inconsiderable.”
”What--” I began, but he interrupted me.
”I shall not answer a single question. The check for three thousand is for the purchase of the horses, which will be put on sale Sat.u.r.day morning. They are easily worth this amount. Through whatever agency you please, buy these horses for me, but not in my name. As for the note, cash my check first and present the currency for the note. No one will know anything about it then. You can not trace money.”
”Good Lord, Bob, you are crazy! You are giving away a fortune,” I remonstrated.
”It is my own, and my capital remains untouched.”
”Have you told her that you love her? Does she know who you are?” I was very much excited.
”No,”--sadly, ”I haven't told her that I love her. She does not know who I am. What is more, I never want her to know. I have thrown my arms roughly around her, thinking her to be Nancy, and have kissed her. Some reparation is due her. On Monday I shall pack up quietly and return to the West”
”Annesley beggared? What in heaven's name does this all mean?” I was confounded.
”Some day, Chuck, when you have entered the family properly as my sister's husband, perhaps I may confide in you. At present the secret isn't mine. Let it suffice that through peculiar circ.u.mstances, the father of the girl I love is ruined. I am not doing this for any theatrical play, grat.i.tude and all that rot,”--with half a smile, ”I admire and respect Colonel Annesley; I love his daughter, hopelessly enough. I have never been of much use to any one. Other persons'
troubles never worried me to any extent; I was happy-go-lucky, careless and thoughtless. True, I never pa.s.sed a beggar without dropping a coin into his cup. But often this act was the result of a good dinner and a special vintage. The twenty thousand will keep the colonel's home, the house his child was born in and her mother before her. I am doing this crazy thing, as you call it, because it is going to make me rather happy. I shall disappear Monday. They may or they may not suspect who has come to their aid. They may even trace the thing to you; but you will be honor-bound to reveal nothing. When you have taken up the note, mail it to Annesley. You will find Count Karloff's name on it.”