The House of Mystery Part 20

Rosalie tiptoed to the desk, bringing pen and ink, which she laid on the table beside Norcross. It was quite evident that one of their number was by this time enjoying the situation.

"Keep everybody here for three minutes--I'll be back," she said to Blake, and floated out of the door.

As Norcross handed over the check, Dr. Blake spoke:

"I am taking Miss Markham away. She is not to see this woman again--taking her to my aunt's house. I, too, want a witness. If I have done anything for you to-night, will you return it by setting us down in your automobile?"

"Certainly," responded Norcross. "I suppose I ought to thank you--but I've got to think this thing out." He scrutinized Blake closely. "How about you and the papers--I hadn't thought of you--"

Blake, still dropping soft love pats on Annette's hair and shoulders, looked into the eyes of the railroad king.

"I have earned that opinion, I suppose," he said. "I can't say that I feel myself greatly superior to--to anyone here--tonight. But I've done what I started to do. My name is Blake, Mr. Norcross--Dr. Walter H.

Blake--lately army surgeon in the Philippines, if you take my profession as a voucher. My father was Rear-Admiral Blake, if family will help establish me. Or, better, I intend to marry this girl as soon as the license clerk will let me--and it isn't likely that I'll make public anything that involves my wife and her people. Does that satisfy you?"

Norcross ran his eye across them. It rested a moment upon Annette; and a ghost of that late emotion, of which she had been the instrument, flashed across his face.

"I guess I'm satisfied," he said.

Now Rosalie, in hat and wraps, stood at the door carrying her suit case.

"Sorry to leave without notice, Mrs. Markham," she said, "but you remember I haven't drawn no pay as housekeeper for doin' you up. I guess we'd all better be goin'. Here's your hat, Dr. Blake, and a fur coat and boots for Miss Markham."

Paula Markham, twirling the fifty thousand dollar check idly in her fingers, rose from the piano stool.

"I wish you to listen, Dr. Blake," she said, "although you may not believe it, I am really fond of Annette. The temptation to use her became too strong. Believe me, I have intended for some time to stop it. I had stopped it in fact, when this big fish came to my net. You have seen, no more keenly than I, how hard it was on her nerves. Take her away and give her a good time--she needs it. Indeed, had you come into her life a little later, I should have welcomed you--for after I found that she had no clairvoyance in her, I wanted her to be happy."

"You had an admirable way of showing it," responded Dr. Blake. "What about putting aside earthly love for strength?"

"It kept off the undesirables," said Mrs. Markham, "and just then--with this large order in hand--you were an undesirable. I shall not ask you to let me see her for the present--indeed, I am going away--but years from now, when you and she have softened--"

"When her will is built up--perhaps."

"May I kiss her?" For the first time in his experience of her, Blake traced a note of feminine softness in Mrs. Markham's tones.

Blake took the back of the little head firmly in his hand, pressed the face tightly on his shoulder.

"Her cheek--yes. You must not look into her eyes."

As Mrs. Markham lifted her face from Annette's cheek, the tears showed under her lids.

"But, oh, Annette," she whispered, "I ask you to believe that I am real--that once I was all real--but I fell like the rest."

For the first time Annette spoke coherently.

"Oh, Aunt Paula--it breaks my heart--but I will try to remember only how kind you were."

And now Rosalie had wrapped her for the street; and now the door closed between Mrs. Markham and her biggest operation.

Rosalie was first to quit the automobile--she had asked Norcross to drive her to a woman's hotel.

"Good-night, people," she said cheerily at the curb, "I hope it ain't good-by to any of you. Doctor, I'd like to be invited to the weddin', however private--that's my tip. When I git settled again, I'll send you my card an' address. Good-night, Mr. Norcross, I'm real pleased to have met you. I had a cousin who was a conductor on one of your roads an' he always spoke nicely of the way he was treated. An', oh, yes! Don't you worry about _me_ givin' any of this away. I'm a medium, all right, but I ain't in that kind of work. I ain't recommendin' myself, of course, Mr. Norcross, but if you git over this--they generally do--an' want some good, straight clairvoyant work done, write Mme. Rosalie Le Grange, care the _Spirit Truth Bulletin_, an' I'll recommend you to them that are strangers to graft. Good-night."

After they drove on, Blake, brazenly patting and caressing Annette toward calm and a right mind, furtively noticed Norcross as the bands of city light flashed his figure into view. He was huddled in a corner of the cus.h.i.+oned seat; he looked again the pitiful, broken, disappointed old man. But when he parted from the lovers at the curb of an old house in Lexington Avenue, his voice came out of him with certainty and ring.

"If I can do anything more for you in this matter, I am at your service," Blake had said.

"I will attend to the rest myself, thank you!" answered Norcross.

"It has occurred to me," continued Blake, "that Mrs. Markham will communicate at once with whatever confederates she had in this business. I hope you don't mind my mentioning it."

"Probably," responded Norcross, "she's at the telephone now. That's my part of it. Good-night."

XIV

MAINLY FROM THE PAPERS

(From the Wall Street _Sun_, Oct. 21, 190-)

Whatever motive impelled Robert H. Norcross to his mysterious operations in L.D. and M. during the past two days, it looks rather like stock manipulation than the larger financing which has. .h.i.therto marked his career. When, on Wednesday, the directors of the L.D. and M. adjourned without declaring a dividend, that stock, which had advanced somewhat owing to the speculative trading of the past three weeks, fell from 56 to 50, and closed weak at 49-1/4.

Directly after the close of the exchange, Norcross, as though by program, reconvened the directors, who declared a dividend of one and one-half per cent. The news was about by the time the market opened yesterday, and L.D. and M. made the record jump of the year, going to 76 and closing strong at 75-1/2. It scarcely went below that point to-day, and at two o'clock touched its highest notch--76-3/4. Considerable criticism of Norcross was heard on the street to-day.

(From the Wall Street _Sun_, Oct. 24, 190-)

BROKERAGE FIRM a.s.sIGNS

The firm of Bulger and Watson, promoters and Stock Exchange operators, made an a.s.signment this morning. Liabilities $276,125; a.s.sets $81,300. This failure followed the collapse of the Mongolia Copper Mine in Montana, news of which reached New York last Sat.u.r.day. Bulger and Watson were heavily interested in that property. An unusual feature of this failure, according to those on the inside, was the action of Arthur Bulger, senior member of the firm, in the L.D. and M. flurry of last Wednesday and Thursday.

Bulger, it is said by those who know his affairs best, had speculated heavily in L.D. and M., playing for a rise. On the eve of the fluky directors' meeting of last Wednesday--which, it will be remembered, adjourned without action only to reconvene after market hours and declare a dividend--Bulger began through his brokers to unload. It is believed that he was acting upon some advance inside information of the directors' action. He was sold clean out of this stock when the market closed Wednesday afternoon.

Had he held on, the firm would doubtless have been able to survive the Mongolia crash, for L.D. and M., following the unexpected action of the directors in declaring a dividend, jumped on Thursday from 50 to the neighborhood of 75. The failure will involve no other firms, it is thought.

As the curve of Sandy Hook blotted from sight the last, low glimpse of the skysc.r.a.pers which point Manhattan, Blake touched Annette's arm. She turned from her reveries; the distance faded from her eyes.

"It's the end of a life for you--that," he said. "We don't see New York again for two years. We're going back over the girlhood you never had--you're going to dance and motor and walk--yes and coquette, too--or as much as you care to with me as a husband. For two years, you're just going to play!"

Then, noticing the expression of the dog who beholds his master with which her sapphirine eyes regarded him, he dropped his hand on hers.

"But most of all, dearest," he added, "you're going to do what you want to do! Not what I or any one else commands, but just as your own sweet will dictates--Light of me!"