First Person Paramount Part 33

"Shake!" I said, of a sudden, after a full minute's silence, and briskly extended my hand.

He responded somewhat slowly and doubtfully to my invitation. But I tore off my goggles, and looking him straight and keenly in the eyes, seized his hand. I squeezed it with all my strength, then pointed to a chair.

He obeyed with a wince, wringing his hand the while.

"Really, Mr. Hume," he began, with a deprecating frown, "I am at a loss----"

"One second!" I interrupted, and deftly removed my beard.

He gave me one quick astonished look, then sprang to his feet, his eyes alight, his face flus.h.i.+ng with excitement.

"Is it possible?" he cried.

"You know me," I demanded.

"Why sir, of course!"

"But we have never met!" I cried, frowning blackly.

"No, sir, no," he responded, hastily. "But Mr. Stelfox Steele's face is as familiar to the public as that of Mr. Chamberlain. I am glad to meet you, sir."

I nodded and sat down. "Pray resume your seat, Mr. Sims." He obeyed.

I leaned across the table and beckoned with my hand. Next moment our heads were almost touching.

"You are wondering," said I.

"Yes," he answered frankly.

"I am supposed to be on my way to New York," I went on, in very low tones. "I am being impersonated on the steamer by one of my clerks, who will keep his cabin all the way. Before he arrives at the other side--all will be over. I have taken every precaution against failure.

I cannot, shall not fail, Mr. Sims, unless you fail me."

"Some big coup on exchange, I presume?" he muttered, "and a lone hand, too--eh?"

"Exactly! But you are still wondering--speak!"

He bit his lips. "It--is the honour you have paid me--me!" he stammered. "Messrs. Max and Humphreys are your brokers, I believe."

"And I have no fault to find with them," I answered quickly, "except that Sampson May, Vanderwill, and most of my other a.s.sociates also deal with them. You understand?"

"Ah!" he cried, "I see! You'll be wanting me to bear stocks, eh, Mr.

Steele?"

I smiled in commendation of his shrewdness. "Well, Mr. Sims," I muttered, "may I depend on you?"

"Most certainly. I am deeply----"

I waved my hand. "Money talks," I interrupted drily. "I require no a.s.surances. Serve me well, and I'll make your fortune. Fail me, and by the G.o.d above us, I'll break you, Mr. Sims. Those are my terms."

"Agreed!" he cried, his eyes s.h.i.+ning like stars. "Now, sir, your instructions. What am I to bear?"

"Anglo-American Hotels," I murmured softly.

He started upright, and gazed at me like one confounded.

"Anglo-Americans," he gasped.

"Listen," said I. "To-morrow morning you will sell one hundred thousand shares--cash-on-delivery--to be handed over on Sat.u.r.day. The market is at present steady at forty s.h.i.+llings. Your first operation will not affect it one iota. In the afternoon you will sell another hundred thousand--same terms. You'll get the same figure, for, although my a.s.sociates will be nervous, they are too deeply involved to dare let the price fall, till they are sure, and they'll buy at evens, never dreaming that they are bucking-up against a stone wall. Next morning sell two hundred thousand. That will turn the balance. The price will probably drop a bit. In the afternoon sell three hundred thousand.

You'll find by then the market in a panic, for my pals will have smelt a big rat, and they'll no longer show fight. Indeed, I expect they will follow my lead, and to save themselves, start selling too. However, keep on selling a hundred thousand each half-day, till the absolute slump. That will arrive on Friday morning at latest. I reckon the shares should by then reach bottom, say from three to seven s.h.i.+llings.

You will then buy scrip against deliveries on your former sales and report to me here at 11 a.m. on Sat.u.r.day morning, with the transfers for signature. By the way, Agar Hume is a good name, and will look fine on the transfers. Stick to it! That is all I need say, I think, except that I advise you to follow my lead as far as your means allow. The transaction will enrich you. Your commission will, of course, be at the ordinary rate."

Mr. Sims had fallen back in his chair. His eyes were as round as marbles, and his mouth gaped ajar.

"You looked surprised!" I observed, with an indulgent smile.

He pa.s.sed his hand nervously across his brow, and gave himself a little shake.

"It's colossal--but immoral!" he gasped. "Colossally immoral! Your a.s.sociates----" he stopped short, lacking words.

"My a.s.sociates are men of business," I said, coldly. "And they would be the first to tell you that there is no morality involved in business transactions. I propose to treat them as they would treat me, if they were clever enough to perceive a way. But we waste time, sir. The question is, are you the man to handle the affair?"

"Yes," he cried. "Indeed, yes."

I nodded and stood up. "Then adieu till Sat.u.r.day. My secretary, Brown, in the meanwhile, will wait upon you every afternoon. Good-day, Mr.

Sims!"

He bowed, and, stammering some form of farewell, took his departure. A moment later I locked the door behind him, and, retiring into my inner room, threw myself down upon the bed--to think. I had succeeded beyond my dreams. The stockbroker had swallowed both bait and hook like the greediest of gudgeons. He had not asked me one difficult question, and, whether from diffidence or obsequiousness, he had neglected to demand the slightest proof of my _bona fides_. Concerning the latter point, however, I thought it possible that he might, after reflection, return and try to repair his folly. I therefore postponed changing my disguise for several hours, so that I might not be caught unawares. But Mr. Sims did not venture to come back, and when night fell, I felt safe. I had only ten pounds left in the world at that juncture, but I considered my future so brilliantly a.s.sured, and I felt so satisfied with myself, that, as Agar Hume, _in propria persona_, I treated myself to dinner at the Trocadero, and afterwards to a music-hall.

I pa.s.sed the next day reading a French novel, until three o'clock in the afternoon, when I a.s.sumed the form of Brown, Mr. Stelfox Steele's fict.i.tious lackey. At a little after four o'clock I entered Mr. Sims'

office, and was immediately ushered into the stockbroker's private sanctum.

Mr. Sims began to greet me with great effusiveness, but I cut him short, and even refused to sit down.

"Excuse me," I said, quickly, "a certain gentleman is very anxiously expecting my return to Lambert Road, and I simply dare not keep him waiting an unnecessary second. Did you sell the shares, sir?"

"Yes--two hundred thousand!"

"And the figure, Mr. Sims?"

"Forty s.h.i.+llings, Mr. Brown; just as he predicted!"

"Is the market at all upset?"

"Excited rather, I should say. Mr. Sampson Y. May, the Manager of the Trust, came to see me, and tried to pump me, but naturally, I kept a close mouth."

"Good," said I, "my master will be pleased."

"Has he any further orders for me, Mr. Brown?"

"Only to carry on. Good-afternoon, sir! I must hurry back."