Part 17 (1/2)

The report of Mr. Johnson and Mr. Chalmers upon the Brightlight Electric Company was a complicated affair, but, upon the whole, highly favorable. It was an old establishment, the first electric company that had been formed in the city, and it held, besides some minor concessions, an ancient franchise for the exclusive supply of twelve of the richest down-town blocks, this franchise, made by a generous board of city fathers, still having twenty years to run. The concern's equipment was old and much of it needed renewal, but its financial affairs were in good shape, except for a mortgage of a hundred thousand dollars held by one J. W. Williams.

”About this mortgage,” Mr. Chalmers advised Mr. Burnit; ”its time limit expires within two months, and I have no doubt that is why Sharpe wants to put additional capital into the concern. Moreover, Williams is notoriously reputed a lieutenant of Sam Stone's, and it is quite probable that Stone is the real holder of the mortgage.”

”I don't see where it makes much difference, so long as the mortgage has to be paid, whether it is paid to Stone or to somebody else,” said Bobby reflectively.

”I don't see any difference myself,” agreed Chalmers, ”except that I am suspicious of that whole crowd, since Sharpe is only a figurehead for Stone. I find that Sharpe is credited with holding two hundred thousand dollars' worth of the present stock. The majority of the Consumers Company and a good share of the United are also in his name.

Just how all these facts have a bearing upon each other I can not at present state, but in view of the twenty years' franchise, and of the fact that you will hold undisputed control, I do not see but that you have a splendid investment here. The contract for the city lighting of those twelve blocks is ironclad, and the franchise for exclusive private lighting and power is exclusive so long as 'reasonably satisfactory service' is maintained. As this has been undisputed for thirty years I don't think you need have much fear upon that score,”

and Chalmers smiled.

In the afternoon of that same day Sharpe called up.

”What dinner engagement have you for to-night?” he inquired.

”None,” replied Bobby, after a moment of hesitation.

”Then I want you to dine with me at the Spender. Can you make it?”

”I guess so,” replied Bobby reluctantly, after another hesitant pause.

”What time, say?”

”About seven. Just inquire at the desk. I'll have a dining-room reserved.”

Bobby was very thoughtful as he arrayed himself for dinner, and he was still more thoughtful when, a boy ushering him into the cozy little private dining-room, he found the over-dazzling young Mrs. Sharpe with her husband. She greeted the handsome young Mr. Burnit most effusively, clasping his hand warmly and rolling up her large eyes at him while Mr. Sharpe looked on with smiling approval. Bobby experienced that strange conflict which most men have known, a feeling of revulsion at war with the undoubted lure of the women. She was one of those who deliberately make appeal through their femininity alone.

”Such a pleasure to meet you,” she said in the most silvery of voices.

”I have heard so much of Mr. Burnit and his polo skill.”

”It's the best trick I do,” confessed Bobby, laughing.

”That's because Mr. Burnit hasn't found his proper forte as yet,”

interposed Sharpe. ”He was really cut out for the illuminating business.” And he led the way to the table, upon which Bobby had already noted that five places were laid.

”A couple of our friends might drop in,” said the host in explanation; ”they usually do.”

”If it's Sam and Billy we're not going to wait for them,” said Mrs.

Sharpe with a languis.h.i.+ng glance at Bobby. ”They're always ages and ages late, if they come at all. Frank, where are those c.o.c.ktails? I'm running down.”

She took the drink with an avidity Bobby was not used to seeing among his own women friends, and almost immediately it heightened her vivacity. There could be no question that she was a fascinating woman.

Again Bobby had that strange sense of revulsion, and again he was conscious that, in spite of her trace of a tendency to indecorum, there was a subtle appeal in her; one, however, that he shrank from a.n.a.lyzing. Her talk was mostly of the places she had been, with almost pathetic little mention now and then of unattainable people. Evidently she craved social position, in spite of the fact that she was for ever shut out from it.

While they were upon the fish the door opened and two men came in.

With a momentary frown Bobby recognized both; one of them the great Sam Stone, and the other William Garland, a rich young cigar manufacturer, quite prominent in public affairs. The latter he had met; the former he inspected quite curiously as he acknowledged the introduction.

Stone gave one the idea that he was extremely heavy; not that he was so grossly stout, although he was large, but he seemed to convey an impression of tremendous weight. His features and his expression were heavy, his eyes were heavy-lidded, and he was taciturnity itself. He gave Bobby a quick scrutiny from head to foot, and in that instant had weighed him, measured him, catalogued and indexed him for future reference for ever. Stone's only spoken word had been a hoa.r.s.e acknowledgment of his introduction, and as soon as the entree came on he attacked it with a voracious appet.i.te, which, however, did not prevent him from weighing and absorbing in silence every word that was spoken in his hearing. Bobby found himself wondering how this unattractive man could have secured his tremendous following, in spite of the fact that Stone ”never broke a promise and never went back on a friend,” qualities which would go far toward establis.h.i.+ng any man in the esteem of mankind.

It was not until the appearance of the salad that any allusion was made to business, and then Garland, upon an impatient signal from Stone, turned to Bobby with the suavity of which he was thorough master.

”Mr. Sharpe tells me that you consider taking a dip into the public utilities line,” he suggested.