Part 37 (1/2)
And one morning, before he left his rooms at Mrs. Greeve's lodgings to go downtown, Percy Draymore called him up on the telephone; and as that overfed young man's usual rising hour was notoriously nearer noon than eight o'clock, it surprised Selwyn to be asked to remain in his rooms for a little while until Draymore and one or two friends could call on him personally concerning a matter of importance.
He therefore breakfasted leisurely; and he was still scanning the real estate columns of a morning paper when Mrs. Greeve came panting to his door and ushered in a file of rather sleepy but important looking gentlemen, evidently unaccustomed to being abroad so early, and bored to death with their experience.
They were men he knew only formally, or, at best, merely as fellow club members; men whom he met when a dance or dinner took him out of the less pretentious sets he personally affected; men whom the newspapers and the public knew too well to speak of as ”well known.”
First there was Percy Draymore, overgroomed for a gentleman, fat, good-humoured, and fas.h.i.+onable--one of the famous Draymore family noted solely for their money and their tight grip on it; then came Sanxon Orchil, the famous banker and promoter, small, urbane, dark, with that rich almost oriental coloring which he may have inherited from his Cordova ancestors who found it necessary to dehumanise their names when Rome offered them the choice with immediate eternity as alternative.
Then came a fox-faced young man, Phoenix Mottly, elegant arbiter of all pertaining to polo and the hunt--slim-legged, hatchet-faced--and more presentable in the saddle than out of it. He was followed by Bradley Harmon, with his washed-out colouring of a consumptive Swede and his corn-coloured beard; and, looming in the rear like an amiable brontasaurus, George Fane, whose swaying neck carried his head as a camel carries his, nodding as he walks.
”Well!” said Selwyn, perplexed but cordial as he exchanged amenities with each gentleman who entered, ”this is a killing combination of pleasure and mortification--because I haven't any more breakfast to offer you unless you'll wait until I ring for the Sultana--”
”Breakfast! Oh, d.a.m.n! I've breakfasted on a pill and a gla.s.s of vichy for ten years,” protested Draymore, ”and the others either have swallowed their c.o.c.ktails, or won't do it until luncheon. I say, Selwyn, you must think this a devilishly unusual proceeding.”
”Pleasantly unusual, Draymore. Is this a delegation to tend me the nomination for the down-and-out club, perhaps?”
Fane spoke up languidly: ”It rather looks as though we were the down-and-out delegation at present; doesn't it, Orchil?”
”I don't know,” said Orchil; ”it seems a trifle more promising to me since I've had the pleasure of seeing Captain Selwyn face to face. Go on, Percy; let the horrid facts be known.”
”Well--er--oh, hang it all!” blurted out Draymore, ”we heard last night how that fellow--how Neergard has been tampering with our farmers--what underhand tricks he has been playing us; and I frankly admit to you that we're a worried lot of near-sports. That's what this dismal matinee signifies; and we've come to ask you what it all really means.”
”We lost no time, you see,” added Orchil, caressing the long pomaded ends of his kinky moustache and trying to catch a glimpse of them out of his languid oriental eyes. He had been trying to catch this glimpse for thirty years; he was a persistent man with plenty of leisure.
”We lost no time,” repeated Draymore, ”because it's a devilish unsavoury situation for us. The Siowitha Club fully realises it, Captain Selwyn, and its members--some of 'em--thought that perhaps--er--you--ah--being the sort of man who can--ah--understand the sort of language we understand, it might not be amiss to--to--”
”Why did you not call on Mr. Neergard?” asked Selwyn coolly. Yet he was taken completely by surprise, for he did not know that Neergard had gone ahead and secured options on his own responsibility--which practically amounted to a violation of the truce between them.
Draymore hesitated, then with the brutality characteristic of the overfed: ”I don't give a d.a.m.n, Captain Selwyn, what Neergard thinks; but I do want to know what a gentleman like yourself, accidentally a.s.sociated with that man, thinks of this questionable proceeding.”
”Do you mean by 'questionable proceeding' your coming here?--or do you refer to the firm's position in this matter?” asked Selwyn sharply.
”Because, Draymore, I am not very widely experienced in the customs and usages of commercial life, and I do not know whether it is usual for an a.s.sociate member of a firm to express, unauthorised, his views on matters concerning the firm to any Tom, d.i.c.k, and Harry who questions him.”
”But you know what is the policy of your own firm,” suggested Harmon, wincing, and displaying his teeth under his bright red lips; ”and all we wish to know is, what Neergard expects us to pay for this rascally lesson in the a-b-c of Long Island realty.”
”I don't know,” replied Selwyn, bitterly annoyed, ”what Mr. Neergard proposes to do. And if I did I should refer you to him.”
”May I ask,” began Orchil, ”whether the land will be ultimately for sale?”
”Oh, everything's always for sale,” broke in Mottly impatiently; ”what's the use of asking that? What you meant to inquire was the price we're expected to pay for this masterly squeeze in realty.”
”And to that,” replied Selwyn more sharply still, ”I must answer again that I don't know. I know nothing about it; I did not know that Mr.
Neergard had acquired control of the property; I don't know what he means to do with it. And, gentlemen, may I ask why you feel at liberty to come to me instead of to Mr. Neergard?”
”A desire to deal with one of our own kind, I suppose,” returned Draymore bluntly. ”And, for that matter,” he said, turning to the others, ”we might have known that Captain Selwyn could have had no hand in and no knowledge of such an underbred and dirty--”
Harmon plucked him by the sleeve, but Draymore shook him off, his little piggish eyes sparkling.
”What do I care!” he sneered, losing his temper; ”we're in the clutches of a vulgar, skinflint Dutchman, and he'll wring _us_ dry whether or not we curse _him_ out. Didn't I tell you that Philip Selwyn had nothing to do with it? If he had, and I was wrong, our journey here might as well have been made to Neergard's office. For any man who will do such a filthy thing--”
”One moment, Draymore,” cut in Selwyn; and his voice rang unpleasantly; ”if you are simply complaining because you have been outwitted, go ahead; but if you think there has been any really dirty business in this matter, go to Mr. Neergard. Otherwise, being his a.s.sociate, I shall not only decline to listen but also ask you to leave my apartments.”