Part 18 (1/2)
”Like myself, you are practical men--you want facts and figures, and when you invest your money you want to be more than reasonably sure of its return. Gentlemen, I have in the hands of a printer a prospectus giving the values of the ground per cubic yard, and from this data I have conservatively, very conservatively, calculated the profits which we might reasonably antic.i.p.ate. You will be startled, amazed, bewildered by the magnitude of the returns upon the investment which I am giving you the opportunity to make.
”I shall say no more at present, gentlemen, but when my prospectus is off the press I shall place it in your hands--”
”Gemman to see you, suh.”
”I'm engaged.”
”Said it was important.” The bell boy lingered.
Sprudell frowned.
”Did he give no name?”
”Yes, suh; he said to tell you Burt--Bruce Burt.”
Sprudell grew a curious, chalky white and stood quite still. He felt his color going and turned quickly lest it be observed.
Apologetically, to his guests:
”One moment, if you please.”
He remembered that Bruce Burt had warned him that he would come back and haunt him--he wished the corridor was one mile long.
There was nothing of the wraith, or phantom, however, in the broad-shouldered figure in a wide-brimmed Stetson sitting in the office watching Sprudell's approach with ominous intentness.
With a fair semblance of cordiality Sprudell hastened forward with outstretched hand.
”I'm amazed! Astonished--”
”I thought you would be,” Bruce answered grimly, ignoring Sprudell's hand. ”I came to see about that letter--what you've done.”
”Everything within my power, my friend--they're gone.”
”Gone! You could not find them?”
”Not a trace.” Sprudell looked him squarely in the eye.
”You did your best?”
”Yes, Burt, I did my best.”
”Well,” Bruce got up slowly, ”I guess I'll register.” His voice and face showed his disappointment. ”You live here, they said, so I'll see you in the morning and get the picture and the 'dust'.”
”In the morning, then. You'll excuse me now, won't you? I have a little dinner on.”
He lingered a moment to watch Bruce walk across the office and he noticed how he towered almost head and shoulders above the clerk at the desk: and he saw also, how, in spite of his ill-fitting clothes so obviously ready-made, he commanded, without effort, the attention and consideration for which, in his heart, Sprudell knew that he himself had to pay and pose and scheme.
A thought which was so strong, so like a conviction that it turned him cold, flashed into his mind as he looked. If, by any whim of Fate, Helen Dunbar and Bruce Burt should ever meet, all the material advantages which he had to offer would not count a straw's weight with the girl he had determined to marry.
But such a meeting was the most remote thing possible. There were nearer bridges to be crossed, and Sprudell was anxious to be rid of his guests that he might think.