Part 36 (1/2)
”Having seen me, Carlis, will you kindly state your business and go?
This promises to be one of my busiest days. What can I do for you?”
Blaine leaned back in his chair, with a bland smile of pleased expectancy.
”It ain't what you _can_ do; it's what you're _goin'_ to do, and no mistake about it!” the other glowered. ”You're goin' to keep your mouth shut as tight as a trap, and your hands off, from now on! Oh, you know what I mean, right enough. Don't try to work the surprised gag on me!”
He added the latter with a coa.r.s.e sneer which further distorted his inflamed visage. Blaine, with an expression of sharp inquiry, had whirled around in his swivel chair to face his excited visitor, and as he did so, his hand, with seeming inadvertence, had for an instant come in contact with the under ledge of his desk-top.
”I'm afraid, much as I desire not to prolong this unexpected interview, that I must ask you to explain just what it is that I must keep my hands off of, as you say. We will go into the wherefore of it later.”
Carlis glanced back of him into the empty hallway, then closed the door and came forward menacingly.
”What's the good of beating about the bush?” he demanded, in a fierce undertone. ”You know d--n' well what I mean: you're b.u.t.ting in on the Lawton affair. You've bitten off more than you can chew, and you'd better wise yourself up to that, here and now!”
”Just what is the Lawton affair?”
”Oh, stow that bluff! You know too much already, and if I followed my hunch, I'd scrag you now, to play safe. Dead men don't blab, as a rule--though one may have, last night. I came here to be generous, to give you a last chance. I've fought tooth and nail, myself, for my place at the top, and I like a game sc.r.a.pper, even if he is on the wrong side. You've tried to get me for years, but as I knew you couldn't, I didn't bother with you, any more than I would with a trained flea, and I bear no malice. D--d if I don't like you, Blaine!”
”Thank you!” The detective bowed in ironic acknowledgment of the compliment. ”Your friends.h.i.+p would be considered a valuable a.s.set by many, I have no doubt, but--”
”Look here!” The great political boss had shed his bulldozing manner, and a shade of unmistakable earnestness, not unmixed with anxiety, had crept into his tones. ”I'm talking as man to man, and I know I can trust your word of honor, even if you pretend you won't take mine. Is anyone listening? Have you got any of your infernal operatives spying about?”
Blaine leaned forward and replied with deep seriousness.
”I give you my word, Carlis, that no human ear is overhearing our conversation.” Then he smiled, and added, with a touch of mockery: ”But what difference can that make? I thought you came here to issue instructions. At least, you so announced yourself on your arrival!”
”Because I'm going to make a proposition to you--on my own.” Even Carlis' coa.r.s.e face flushed darkly at the base self-revelation.
”Pennington Lawton died of heart-disease.”
He paused, and after waiting a full minute, Blaine remarked, quietly, but with marked significance:
”Of course. That is self-evident, isn't it?”
”Well, then--” Carlis stepped back with a satisfied grunt. ”He didn't have a soul on earth dependent on him but his daughter. His great fortune is swept away, and that daughter left penniless. But ain't there lots of girls in this world worse off than she? Ain't she got good friends that's lookin' out for her, and seein' that she don't want for a thing? Ain't she goin' to marry a young fellow that loves the ground she walks on--a rich young fellow, that'll give her everything, all her life? What more could she want? _She's_ all right.
But the big money--the money Lawton made by grinding down the ma.s.ses--wouldn't you like a slice of it yourself, Blaine? A nice, fat, juicy slice?”
”How?” An interested pucker appeared suddenly between the detective's expressive brows, and Carlis laughed.
”Oh, we're all in it--you may as well be! You're on the inside, as it is! The play got too high for Rockamore, and he cashed in; you've bluffed old Mallowe till he's looking up sailing dates for Algiers, but I knew you'd be sensible, when it came to the scratch, and divide the pot, rather than blow your whistle and have the game pulled!”
”But it was old Mallowe”--Blaine's tone was puzzled--”who succeeded in transferring all that worthless land he'd acquired to Lawton, when Lawton wouldn't come in and help him on that Street-Railways grab, which would have made him practically sole owner of all the suburban real estate around Illington, wasn't it?”
”Sure it was!” laughed Carlis, ponderously. ”But who made it possible for Mallowe to palm off those miles of vacant lots--as improved city property, of course--on Lawton, without his knowledge, and even have them recorded in his name, but me? What am I boss for, if I don't own a little man like the Recorder of Deeds?”
”I see!” Blaine tapped his finger-tips together and smiled slowly, in meditative appreciation. ”And it was your man, also, Paddington, who found means to provide the mortgage, letter of appeal for a loan, note for the loan itself, and so forth. As for Rockamore--”
”Oh, he fixed up the dividend end, watered the stock and kept the whole thing going by phony financing while there was a chance of our hoodwinking Lawton into going into it voluntarily. He was one grand little promoter, Rockamore was; pity he got cold feet, and promoted himself into another sphere!”