Carmen Ariza Part 108

"Er--your brother James received the letter, and I believe he put the check in his pocket."

Ketchim gave vent to a snort of rage. "You tell James," he cried, pounding the desk with his fist, "that as president and treasurer of the Molino Company I demand that check!"

"Yes, sir--and--"

"Well?"

"Mr. Ca.s.s 'phoned before you got down this morning. He said the bank refused to extend the time on your note."

Ketchim sank back limply into his chair, and his face became ashen.

"And here is the mail," pursued the gentle Hermes, handing him a bundle of letters.

Ketchim roused himself with an effort. His eyes flashed angrily. "Do you know whether James has been selling any of his own Molino stock?"

he asked.

"I--I believe he has, sir--a little."

"Humph! And how much?"

"He sold some two hundred shares yesterday--I believe; to a Miss Leveridge."

"Leveridge? Who's she? What did he get for it?"

"Why, the Leveridge children--grown men and women now--have just sold their farm down state; and Mr. James saw the sale announced in the papers. So he got in touch with Miss Alvina Leveridge. I believe he sent Houghton down there; and he closed a deal. Mr. James got eight dollars a share, I believe."

"You believe! You _know_, don't you?"

"Yes, sir," meekly.

Ketchim gulped down his wrath, and continued:

"How much did the Leveridges get for their farm? And why didn't you inform me of the sale?" he demanded, fixing the humble Rawlins with a cold eye.

"A--a--twenty-five thousand dollars, sir, I believe. And I didn't see the notice until--"

"As usual, James saw it first! An excellent scout you are! Twenty-five thousand dollars! How many acres?"

"A hundred and eighty, I believe."

Ketchim reflected. "James is still d.i.c.kering with Miss Leveridge, I suppose?"

"I believe so, sir."

"Nezlett got back last night, didn't he? Very well, call him up and tell him to get ready to go at once to--wherever the Leveridges live.

And--I want to see him right away!"

He abruptly dismissed the factotum and turned to his mail. As his glance fell upon the pile he gasped. Then he quickly drew out a letter and tore it open. His thin lips moved rapidly as his eyes roved over the paper. He laid the letter down and looked wildly about. Then he took it up again and read aloud the closing words:

"--and, having bought somewhat heavily of Molino stock, and believing that your representations were made with intent to deceive, I shall, unless immediate reparation or satisfactory explanation is made, take such steps as my counsel may advise.

"Yours, etc., "J. WILTON AMES."

Congealing with fear, Ketchim took his stock memorandum from a drawer and consulted it. "He put in ten thousand, cash," he murmured, closing the book and replacing it. "And I always wondered why, for he doesn't go into things that he can't control. There's where I was a fool! He shouldn't have been sold a dollar's worth! He knows we can't return the money; and now he's tightening the screws! He has something up his sleeve; and we've fallen for it!"

He settled back in his chair and groaned aloud. "Why did he buy? Did he think he'd reach Uncle Ted through us? By Jove! that's it! For a year or more he's wanted to oust Uncle from the C. & R., and now he thinks by threatening the family with disgrace, and us fellows with the pen, he can do it! What fools we've been! Oh, if I ever get out of this I'll steer clear of these deals in the future!" It was his stock resolution, which had never borne fruit.

The door opened slightly, and the noiseless Rawlins timidly announced the arrival of Reed and Harris.

"Show them in at once!" cried Ketchim, jumping up and hastily pa.s.sing his hands over his hair and face. Then, advancing with a wan smile, he courteously greeted the callers.

"Well, fellows," he began, waving them to seats, "it looks a little bad for Molino, doesn't it? I've just been reading your report--although of course you told me over the 'phone yesterday that there was no hope. But," he continued gravely, and his face grew serious, "I'm glad, very glad, of one thing, and that is that there are men in the world to-day who are above temptation."

"Which means--?" queried Harris.

"Why," continued Ketchim, smiling pallidly, "the little joker that James inserted in the contract, about your getting fifty thousand in the event of a favorable report. I told him it didn't look well--but he said it would test you. He would be funny, though, no matter how serious the business. But you showed that you were men."

Harris snickered; but Reed turned the conversation at once. "We have been studying how we could help you pull the thing out of the fire.

Suppose you give us," he suggested, "a little of Molino's history.

Then perhaps something may occur to us."

"There isn't much to tell," replied Ketchim gloomily. "The mines were located by a man named Lakes, at one time acting-Consul at Cartagena.

He is half Colombian, I believe. He came up to New York and interested Bryan, Westler, and some others, and they asked us to act as fiscal agents."

"But you never had t.i.tle to the property," said Reed.

"Certainly we have the t.i.tle! Why do you say that?"

"Because, on our way down the Magdalena river we made the acquaintance of a certain Captain Pinal, of the Colombian army. When he learned that we were mining men he told us he had a string of rich properties that he would like to sell. I inquired their location, and he said they lay along the Boque river. And I learned that he had clear t.i.tle to the property, too--Molino's mines. Now you have sold some three or four hundred thousand dollars' worth of stock on alleged mines to which you never had even the shadow of a claim!"

"But--" murmured Ketchim weakly, "we thought we had. We acted in good faith--we took Mr. Lakes's word--and we showed our confidence and sincerity by purchasing machinery to operate--"

"Oh, the machinery went down there, all right!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Harris with a laugh. "I judge it was designed to manufacture barrel staves, rather than to extract gold! Lakes had it s.h.i.+pped to Cartagena; rented part of an old woman's house; dumped the machinery in there; and now she's wild. Can't get her pay from you for storing the machinery; and can't sell the stuff, nor move it. So there she sits, under some six or eight tons of iron junk, waiting for the Lord to perform a miracle!"

Ketchim smiled feebly. "It's too bad!" he murmured. "But Molino has no funds--"

"You are still selling stock, aren't you?" demanded Reed.

"Oh, no!" quickly returned Ketchim. "We would not sell any more stock until we received your report--and not then, unless the report were favorable. That would not have been right!"

Reed eyed him narrowly. But the image of truth sat enthroned upon Ketchim's sharp features.

"It is unfortunate, boys," the promoter continued dejectedly. "But I care nothing for my own losses; it's the poor stockholders I am thinking about. I would do anything to relieve them. I've prayed to be led to do right. What would you suggest?"

"I suggest," blurted out Harris, "that, having already relieved them considerably, you'll soon be wearing a striped suit!"

The last trace of color faded from Ketchim's face, but the sickly smile remained. "I'd wear it, willingly, if by so doing I could help these poor people," he mournfully replied.