The Incendiary Part 10

It would be fatal to the interests of Floyd if the will should be ignored and half the estate allowed him as heir-at-law. Such a parade of the profits of the incendiary's crime could not fail to rearouse a burst of public indignation which would work its way into the jury-box. s.h.a.garach determined then and there to strive for the upholding of the will, though it should mean the ruin of the Arnold fortune and the loss to Robert Floyd of $5,000,000.

"I do not know," he answered. Something was due to Rabofsky.

"You have waited a long time. You have been thinking. What do you think?"

"It is a difficult part of a difficult problem. My advice----"

"You will not charge your respected father's friend unreasonably?" put in the Jew.

s.h.a.garach knew that Rabofsky was a pharisee of the strictest sect and had not been his father's friend. He knew also that reasonableness of charge was not one of his own eccentricities, and probably would not be exemplified in the loan to Mrs. Arnold. But he replied: "Certainly not. I shall consider that when the work is done."

"Now, kinsman s.h.a.garach."

"Not now. I cannot foresee the amount of labor, the number of consultations, involved," said s.h.a.garach, resolutely. "Do you wish my advice?"

"I shall not pay the charge if it is unreasonable," growled Rabofsky.

"For the present I advise you to lend only what you can with safety on the pledges. I will see Mrs. Arnold about the estate and confer with you further after our interview."

At that moment Aronson opened the door, his eyes dancing with excitement. He panted, as if he had just run upstairs.

"Meester s.h.a.garach," he broke in, but stood awed in the presence of Rabofsky, who was a potent man in the Ghetto.

"Escort Mr. Rabofsky to the stairs," said s.h.a.garach, approaching Aronson, so that the latter might have an opportunity to whisper his message. He was none too soon, for a young man had already entered the door of the outer room.

"Kennedy," whispered Aronson.

It was Harry Arnold's friend.

CHAPTER XIII.

BROWBEATING EXTRAORDINARY.

"Will you take in my card? I'm in a deuce of a rush," said Kennedy to Aronson when the latter had dismissed Simon Rabofsky. s.h.a.garach read his name, daintily engraved in the form to which the weather-vane of fas.h.i.+on had at that moment veered and was imperatively pointing. It introduced "Mr. Arthur K. Foxhall."

"I will see the gentleman in a few minutes," said he. s.h.a.garach must have transacted an almost incredible amount of business in the interim, for his waiting-room was cleared of clients when "Mr. Arthur K. Foxhall" was at length admitted.

"I received this communication from you. My lawyer informs me that it contains matter defamatory per se." He tossed a letter down on the table at which s.h.a.garach was sitting, with his arms folded as usual. "But before taking action on the matter I thought I would give you an opportunity to explain."

"The note is in English, is it not?" said s.h.a.garach.

"It might pa.s.s for such," replied young man supercilious.

"Then it needs no further explanation. The sooner you and your lawyer begin your action the better pleased I shall be." s.h.a.garach began writing a letter coolly, as if the matter were at an end, but his visitor, either in nervousness or anger, tapped the polished tip of his shoe with his cane. It was certainly a most aggressive-looking weapon, with its k.n.o.b carved into a scowling bulldog's head.

"Gentlemen"--he emphasized the word--"men of honor," he paused again, "do not use language of others which they cannot defend, either before the courts of law or by giving personal satisfaction."

"Gentlemen and men of honor do not fabricate lies after taking a solemn oath to tell nothing but the truth," answered s.h.a.garach, without glancing up from the note he was scribbling.

"The third person protects you. You use the coward's refuge, innuendo, because you dare not address the charge to me directly."

s.h.a.garach picked up his letter, which the visitor had thrown down.

"I have taken particular pains to be direct as well as explicit over my own signature. I find that I have accused you, Arthur Kennedy Foxhall," he emphasized the middle name, though it was only initialed in the address, "of deliberate perjury in the case of Commonwealth vs. Bail. My letters do not as a rule require marginal annotations or parol addition to make their meaning clear, and I am credited with sufficient prudence to foresee their consequences before writing them."

s.h.a.garach folded his arms again and his great eyes pierced Foxhall--or Kennedy as he was generally called. It was the family name of a rich relative who had adopted and supported him.

"No," he added, slowly, "this is hardly a case for prosecution or for personal satisfaction. The duello is out of date."

"My valet might object to the opponent I a.s.signed him," said the self-styled gentleman and man of honor. s.h.a.garach's retort was swift, yet uttered without the twitch of an eyelash, as though he were simply recalling his visitor to the original business.

"His master lied in order to prove an alibi for Charles Munroe----"

Kennedy's chalky face flushed faintly.

"If the sword is out of fas.h.i.+on the cane is not," he cried, lifting his formidable bulldog.

"The princ.i.p.al witness against my client in the Bail case," continued s.h.a.garach, raising his voice and controlling Kennedy with his eyes, "and himself the beneficiary of the check which my client was accused of forging."

"You got him off. That was enough. Are you trying to blackmail us for a heavier fee?"

"The case was a conspiracy instigated by Charles Munroe and abetted by his friends, among whom Arthur Kennedy Foxhall was the most conspicuous for his zeal."

"You sc.u.m of a shyster! Do you think you can jew me into a d.i.c.ker?"

s.h.a.garach arose and walked to the window. He was not an equestrian, but natural perception taught him the useful rule to turn his horse's head when he starts to run away. Facing suddenly about, he said: "I am a Jew, true. Perhaps that is why I do not poison myself with opium."

The young man's cheek grew pale again. The cane dropped and he sunk in his chair.

"Am I to be prosecuted for that also?" The anger in his tones had flickered away to a feeble peevishness. "How do you know?"

"Because you are wearing a light overcoat with the mercury at 80," answered s.h.a.garach, who had glanced at the thermometer in his window. "Because you have the glazed eye of a man in fever, and because you lie like an oriental!"

This time Kennedy made no protest against the insult. He was succ.u.mbing to the strain placed upon his shattered nerves by the remorseless man across the table.

"There is your cause of action," said s.h.a.garach, tossing back his letter. Again he dipped his pen in the ink preparing to write.

"What do you want of me?" asked Kennedy.

"Nothing," s.h.a.garach had half-filled the sheet. He was stamping the envelope when the next question slowly came.

"Why do you follow up the matter? Your client is safe?"

"But the community is no longer safe when perjurers strut about, masquerading as the sole guardians of honor."

He folded his arms once more and looked straight at his man. In another the gesture might seen theatrical, but it was s.h.a.garach's natural att.i.tude in thought, like the bowed head and lowered eyes of the philosopher burrowing into the depths of things, or the uplifted gaze of the poet leaving earth for the stars and sunset. The lawyer's interests lay in the horizontal plane, and the faces of fellow-men were his study.

"Yes, I am reputed inexorable to perjurers. It is true. They rarely escape me unpunished. As a consequence, witnesses prefer to tell me the truth, which is an advantage to my clients, of whose interests I am the devoted servitor."

"And you will ruin me to gratify this--this----"

"I will procure your indictment for perjury and conspiracy in the case of Commonwealth vs. Bail."

Kennedy trembled like one with an ague. But stronger men than he had yielded as abjectly to s.h.a.garach. He was a blood of high standing, with a fortune as well as a reputation to lose. The chances of a felon's succeeding to the property of old Angus Kennedy, the millionaire, who had adopted him, were relatively slight.

"What is the penalty for perjury?" he asked, in a random way, as if at a loss what to say or do.

"Imprisonment at hard labor."

"It is not punishable by fine?"

"Never."

There was a pause, broken only by the rustling of Aronson's papers in the outer room. Then s.h.a.garach spoke.

"You have an appointment with Harry Arnold for next Wednesday evening."

Kennedy started up. His smooth face grew cadaverous and the helpless look of a kneeling suppliant came into his eyes, which were riveted on the great, wide orbs of his tormentor.

"At a gambling resort," continued s.h.a.garach.

"I am not a gambler," Kennedy's voice was hollow, his expression piteous. s.h.a.garach studied him a moment. Probably he was speaking the truth. The evil pa.s.sions are jealous and absolute monarchs. Seldom does more than one of them reign at a time.

"But Harry Arnold is."

"Harry is plunging heavily."

s.h.a.garach was satisfied at last. An adequate motive for Harry's deed was clearly in view. It was not the most heinous crime which had been committed to gratify the gamester's pa.s.sion.

"I wish to be with you on that occasion."

"It will be hard," answered Kennedy, his face clouded with consternation and a torrid flush of something like shame sweeping over it. "The Dove-Cote is too well guarded."

"The Dove-Cote!" s.h.a.garach was betrayed into an e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n of surprise. This was the "Tough-Coat" which Aronson's imperfect articulation had disguised.

"It may be hard, but it is not impossible."

"Not impossible, no."

"Well-known men are seen there at times?"

"Oh, yes."

Kennedy smiles.

"And your escape from prison depends upon my obtaining entrance."

The smile had faded away.

"Why do you wish to be there?"

"My reasons are my own. However, I will make a limited confidant of you. I am at work upon a cause which logical study does not perfectly elucidate. That frequently happens. I must see my man off his guard, when he is most himself. My visit to the Dove-Cote will be a psychological study."

"They will compel me to vouch for your good faith."

"You may do so. Nothing seen or heard by me there will ever be revealed. I go, as I have told you, to study a soul, not to gather facts. The facts are already mine."

"Where shall I call for you?"

"Here."

"At 8 o'clock?"

"Very well. There is one condition attached to our bargain. You shall not reveal this appointment to Harry Arnold."

"He will be there----"

"But he does not know me. We probably shall not meet. Other--gentlemen, as you call them--will be there."

"Miss Barlow," said Aronson, at this moment opening the door.

Kennedy had arisen to go, but turned curiously when he heard the sweet voice from without.

"Only a moment, Mr. s.h.a.garach."

The lawyer stepped out and conferred with her. She had run down in her lunch hour, full of a new project which she burned to carry out, but like everything else, she had thought it best first to submit it to s.h.a.garach. His approval was given coolly, she thought.

"Some one of the park policemen may have seen him."

"Possibly."

"If not, how can you explain those four hours of forgetfulness--I mean, of course, to the satisfaction of a jury?"

"It is not unprecedented. I have an explanation, or the germ of one. However, pursue your inquiries. They may prove of value. And, when you visit Floyd, occasionally wear a water lily."

"Why?"

"It was the flower he brought you that evening."

Emily caught the impertinent stare of the manikin within just as she was turning to leave.