Part 27 (1/2)

”I'm glad, very glad!” she cried, catching his enthusiasm, her mind for the first time occupying itself seriously with the mechanism of the deal. At first, when he had been explaining, she had not thrown off the impression that he had been drinking, and so had paid little attention to his explanations. ”It sounds like magic. Tell me again--how you did it.”

Nothing loath, he went over it again, making clear the double clouding of the t.i.tles.

But Nan, being much alone, had the habit, shared with few women of that time, of reading the newspapers. She had followed Rowlee's campaign, and she had taken seriously the editor's diatribes, Rowlee had been talking for effect. The ideals of ultimate civic honesty were yet fifty years in the future, but he had stumbled on their principle. Nan's mind, untrained in any business ethics, caught them; and her sure natural instincts had accepted their essential justice. In recognizing Milton's connection as promoter with just this deal, she was suddenly called upon to make adjustments for which there was no time. She knew Milton would do nothing wrong, and yet--he was waiting in triumph for her response.

”It was very clever. And yet, somehow, it doesn't sound right--” she puzzled, ”Are you sure it's honest?”

”Honest?” he snorted, halted in mid-career, ”Of course it's honest! Why isn't it honest?”

Confronted with the direct question, she really did not know. She groped, proffering tentatively some of the arguments half remembered from Rowlee's editorial columns. But she confronted now a lawyer, sure of himself. Keith explosively, and contemptuously demolished her contentions. Everything was absolutely legal, every step of it. If a man hadn't a right to buy in property at any sale and sell it again where he wanted, where in thunder was our boasted liberty? Just the kind of fool notion women get! Keith in his honest pride and triumph had come for sympathy and admiration. Turned back on himself, he became vaguely resentful, and shortly left the house.

Hardly had the front door closed after him when Nan burst into tears.

She had not meant it to come out that way at all. Of course she had had no real thought that Milton would do anything dishonest; how absurd of him to take it that way! She had simply expressed a queer instinctive thought that had flashed across her mind; and now she could not for the life of her guess how she had come to do so. Miserably and pa.s.sionately she realized that she had bungled it.

XXVI

But if Keith missed the appreciation of his triumph at home, he received full meed of it downtown. In a corner of the Empire a dozen of the biggest men in town were gathered. They were Sam Brannan; Palmer, of Palmer, Cook & Co.; Colonel E. D. Baker, the original ”silver-tongued orator”; d.i.c.k Blatchford, the contractor; Judge Terry, of the Supreme Court; oily, coa.r.s.e Ned McGowan; Nugent and Rowlee, editors, and some others. They were doing an exceedingly important part of their daily business: sipping their late afternoon c.o.c.ktails.

Calhoun Bennett joined them.

”Little item of news to interest you-all,” drawled the Southerner.

”I've just come down from the recorder's office. The deeds for the water lots have just been recorded.” He paused.

”Have a drink, Cal,” urged d.i.c.k Blatchford, ”and sit down. What of it?”

”They were recorded in the names of Malcolm Neil and young Keith. I'll have a c.o.c.ktail.”

”That so? Pretty shaky t.i.tle. Which sale did they record under?”

”Both!” said Bennett.

He stood until he saw that the significance of this had soaked in; then he drew out a chair and sat down. Ned McGowan chuckled hoa.r.s.ely.

”Pretty slick!” said he. ”Wonder some of us didn't think of that! I suppose they went around and scared the purchasers until they got them, pretty cheap. Trust old Neil to drive a bargain!”

But Palmer, the banker, who had been thinking, here spoke up:

”The purchasers were undoubtedly their agents,” he surmised quietly.

”By G.o.d, you're right!” cried Terry. ”Old Malcolm is certainly the devil without a tail!”

”Speak of him and you get him,” remarked Colonel Baker, pointing out Neil, who had just entered.

They raised a shout at him, until finally the old man, reluctantly and crabbedly, sidled over to join them.

”You're discovered, old fox!” cried Terry; ”and the outraged dignity of the law demands a drink.”

They plied him with half-facetious, half-envious congratulations. But Neil would have none of them.