Part 17 (1/2)

”Father is over there now, I think,” she said.

”Good,” approved Mr. Creamer. ”We can have a little direct business talk and wind up the whole affair before lunch. What time do we arrive at Meadow Brook?”

”Before eleven o'clock.”

”That will give us two hours. Two hours is enough to form any company, when everybody knows exactly what he wants to do. Got a lawyer over there?”

”One of the best in the country.”

Miss Stevens sat in the center seat of the tonneau. Sam, in addressing his remarks to the others and in listening to their replies, was compelled to sweep his glance squarely across her, and occasionally in these sweeps he paused to let his gaze rest upon her. She was a relief to his eyes, a blessing to them! Miss Stevens, however, seldom met any of these glances. Very much preoccupied she was, looking at the pa.s.sing scenery and not seeing it.

There had begun boiling and seething in Miss Stevens a feeling that she was decidedly _de trop_, that these men could talk their absorbing business more freely if she were not there; not because she embarra.s.sed them, but because she used up s.p.a.ce! n.o.body seemed to give her a thought. n.o.body seemed to be aware that she was present. They were almost gaspingly engrossed in something far more important to them than she was. It was uncomplimentary, to say the least. She was not used to playing ”second fiddle” in any company. She was in the habit of absorbing the most of the attention in her immediate vicinity. Mr.

Princeman or Mr. Hollis would neither one ignore her in that way, to say nothing of Billy Westlake.

She was glad when they reached Meadow Brook. Their whole talk had been of marsh pulp, and company organization, and preferred and common stock, and who was to get it, and how much they were to pay for it, and how they were going to cut the throats of the wood pulp manufacturers, and how much profit they were going to make from the consumers and with all that, not a word for her. Not a single word! Not even an apology!

Oh, it was atrocious! As soon as they drew up to the porch she rose, and before Sam could jump down to open the door of the tonneau she had opened it for herself and sprung out.

”I'll hunt up father right away for you,” she stated courteously.

”Glad to have met you, Mr. Creamer. I presume I shall meet you again, Mr. Turner,” she said to Jack. ”Thank you so much for the ride,” she said to Sam, and then she was gone.

Sam looked after her blankly. It couldn't be possible that she was ”huffy” about this business talk. Why, couldn't the girl see that this had to do with the birth of a great big company, a million dollar corporation, and that it was of vital importance to him? It meant the apex of a lifetime of endeavor. It meant the upbuilding of a fortune.

Couldn't she see that he and his brother were two lone youngsters against all these shrewd business men, whose only terms of aiding them and floating this big company was to take their mastery of it away from them? Couldn't she understand what control of a million dollar organization meant? He was not angry with Miss Stevens for her apparent att.i.tude in this matter, but he was hurt. He was not impatient with her, but he was impatient of the fact that she could not appreciate. Now the fat was in the fire again. He felt that. Under other circ.u.mstances he would have said that it was much more trouble than it was worth to keep in the good graces of a girl, but under the present circ.u.mstances--well, his heart had sunk down about a foot out of place, and he had a sort of faint feeling in the region of his stomach. He was just about sick. He followed her in, just in time to see the flutter of her skirts at the top of the stairway, but he could not call without making himself and her ridiculous. Confound things in general!

Mr. Stevens joined him while he was still looking into that blank hole in the world.

”Glad I happened to be here, Sam,” said Stevens. ”Jo tells me that your brother and Mr. Creamer have arrived and that you want to form that company right away.”

”Yes,” admitted Sam. ”Was she sarcastic about it?”

Mr. Stevens closed his eyes and laughed.

”Not exactly sarcastic,” he stated; ”but she did allude to your proposed corporation as 'that old company!'”

”I was afraid so,” said Sam ruefully.

Stevens surveyed him in amus.e.m.e.nt for a moment, and then in pity.

”Never mind, my boy,” he said kindly. ”You'll get used to these things by and by. It took me the first five years of my married life to convince Mrs. Stevens that business was not a rival to her affections, when, if I'd only have known the recipe, I could have convinced her at the start.”

”How did you finally do it?” asked Sam, vitally interested.

”Made her my confidante and adviser,” stated Stevens, smiling reminiscently.

Sam shook his head.

”Was that safe?” he asked. ”Didn't she sometimes let out your secrets?”

”Bos.h.!.+” exclaimed Stevens. ”I'd rather trust a woman than a man, any day, with a secret, business or personal. That goes for any woman; mother, sister, sweetheart, wife, daughter, or stenographer. Just give them a chance to get interested in your game, and they're with you against the world.”