Dennison Grant Part 20

"Your father, by his will, left all his property, aside from certain behests to charity, to his son Roy, but Roy had no will, and as he was unmarried, and as there are no other surviving members of the family except yourself, the entire estate, less the behests already referred to, descends to you. We have not yet attempted an appraisal, but you will know that the amount is very considerable indeed. In recent years your father's business undertakings were remarkably successful, and we think we may conservatively suggest that the amount of the estate will be very much greater than even you may antic.i.p.ate.

"The brokerage firm which your father founded is, temporarily, without a head. You have had some experience in your father's office, and as his solicitors for many years, we take the liberty of suggesting that you should immediately a.s.sume control of the business. A faithful staff are at present continuing it to the best of their ability, but you will understand that a permanent organization must be effected at as early a date as may be possible.

"Inability to locate you until after somewhat exhaustive inquiries had been made explains the failure to notify you by wire in time to permit of your attending the funeral of your father and brother, which took place in this city on the eighth instant, and was marked by many evidences of respect.

"We beg to tender our very sincere sympathy, and to urge upon you that you so arrange your affairs as to enable you to a.s.sume the responsibilities which have, in a sense, been forced upon you, at a very early date. In the meantime we a.s.sure you of our earnest attention to your interests.

"Yours sincerely,

"BARRETT, JONES, BARRETT, DEACON & BARRETT."

"Well, I guess it means you've struck oil, and I've lost a good foreman," said Landson, as he returned the letter. "I'm sorry about your loss, Grant, and glad to hear of your good luck, if I may put it that way."

"No particular good luck that I can see," Grant protested. "I came west to get away from all that bothering nuisance, and now I've got to go back and take it all up again. I feel badly about Dad and the kid; they were decent, only they didn't understand me.... I suppose I didn't understand them, either. At any rate they didn't wish this on me. They had quite other plans."

"What do you reckon she's worth?" Landson asked, after waiting as long as his patience would permit.

"Oh, I don't know. Possibly six or eight millions by this time."

"Six or eight millions! Jehoshaphat! What will you do with it?"

"Look after it. Mr. Landson, you know that I have never worried about money; if I had I wouldn't be here. I figure that the more money a man has the greater are his responsibilities and his troubles; worse than that, his wealth excites the jealousy of the public and even the envy of his friends. It builds a barrier around him, shutting out all those things which are really most worth while. It makes him the legitimate prey of the unprincipled. I know all these things, and it is because I know them that I sought happiness out here on the ranges, where perhaps some people are rich and some are poor, but they all think alike and live alike and are part of one community and stand together in a pinch--and out here I have found happiness. Now I'm going back to the other job. I don't care for the money, but any son-of-a-gun who takes it from me is a better man than I am, and I'll sit up nights at both ends of the day to beat him at his own game. Now, just as soon as you can line up someone to take charge I'll have to beat it."

The news of Grant's fortune spread rapidly, and many were the congratulations from his old cow puncher friends; congratulations, for the most part, without a suggestion of envy in them. Grant put his affairs in order as quickly as possible, and started for the East with a trunkful of clothes. But even before he started one thought had risen up to haunt him. He crushed it down, but it would insist. If only this had happened a year ago....

Dennison Grant's mother had died in his infancy, and as soon as Roy was old enough to go to boarding-school his father had given up housekeeping. The club had been his home ever since. Grant reflected on this situation with some satisfaction. He would at least be spared the unpleasantness of discharging a houseful of servants and disposing of the family furniture. As for the club--he had no notion for that. A couple of rooms in some quiet apartment house, where he could cook a meal to his own liking as the fancy took him; that was his picture of something as near domestic happiness as was possible for a single man rather sadly out of his proper environment.

Grant reached his old home city late at night, and after a quiet cigar and a stroll through some of the half-forgotten streets he put up at one of the best hotels. He was deferentially shown to a room about as large as the whole Landson house; soft lights were burning under pink shades; his feet fell noiselessly on the thick carpets. He placed a chair by a window, where he could watch the myriad lights of the city, and tried to appraise the new sphere in which he found himself. It would be a very different game from riding the ranges or roping steers, but it would be a game, nevertheless; a game in which he would have to stand on his own resources even more than in those brave days in the foothills. He relished the notion of the game even while he was indifferent to the prize. He had no clear idea what he eventually should do with his wealth; that was something to think about very carefully in the days and years to come. In the meantime his job was to handle a big business in the way it should be handled. He must first prove his ability to make money before he showed the world how little he valued it.

He turned the water into his bath; there was a smell about the towels, the linen, the soap, that was very grateful to his nostrils....

In the morning he pa.s.sed by the office of Grant & Son. He did not turn in, but pursued his way to a door where a great bra.s.s plate announced the law firm of Barrett, Jones, Barrett, Deacon & Barrett. He smiled at this elaboration of names; it represented three generations of the Barrett family and two sons-in-law. Grant found himself speculating over a name for the Landson ranch; it might have been Landson, Grant, Landson, Murphy, Skinny & Pete....

He entered and inquired for Mr. Barrett, senior.

"Mr. David Barrett, senior, sir; he's out of the city, sir; he has not yet come in from his summer home in the mountains."

"Then the next Mr. Barrett?"

"Mr. David Barrett, junior, sir; he also is out of the city."

"Have you any more Barretts?"

"There's young Mr. Barrett, but he seldom comes down in the forenoon, sir."

Grant suppressed a grin. "The Barretts are a somewhat leisurely family, I take it," he remarked.

"They have been very successful," said the clerk, with a touch of reserve.

"Apparently; but who does the work?"

"Mr. Jones is in his office. Would you care to send in your card?"

"No, I think I'll just take it in." He pressed through a counter-gate and opened a door upon which was emblazoned the name of Mr. Jones.

Mr. Jones proved to be a man with thin, iron-grey hair and a stubby, pugnacious moustache. He sat at a desk at the end of a long, narrow room, down both sides of which were rows of cases filled with impressive-looking books. He did not raise his eyes when Grant entered, but continued poring over a file of correspondence.

"What an existence!" Grant commented to himself. "And yet I suppose this man thinks he's alive."

Grant remained standing for a moment, but as the lawyer showed no disposition to divide his attention he presently advanced to the desk.

Mr. Jones looked up.

"You are Mr. Jones, I believe?"

"I am, but you have the better of me--"

"Only for the moment. You are a lawyer. You will take care of that. I understand the firm of Barrett, Jones, Barrett, Deacon & Barrett have somewhat leisurely methods?"

"Is the firm on trial?" inquired Mr. Jones, sharply.

"In a sense, yes. I also understand that although all the Barretts, and also Mr. Deacon, share in the name plate, Mr. Jones does the work?"

The lawyer laid down his papers. "Who the d.i.c.kens are you, anyway, and what do you want?"

"That's better. With undivided attention we shall get there much quicker. I have a certain amount of legal business which requires attention, and in connection with which I am willing to pay what the service is worth. But I'm not going to pay two generations of Barretts which are out of the city, and a third which doesn't come down in the forenoon. If I have to buy name plates, I'll buy name plates of my own, and that is what I've decided to do. Do you mind saying how much this job here is worth?"

"Of course I do, sir. I don't understand you at all--"

"Then I'll make myself understood. I am Dennison Grant. By force of circ.u.mstances I find myself--"

The lawyer had risen from his chair. "Oh, Mr. Dennison Grant! I'm so glad--"

Grant ignored the outstretched hand. "I'm exactly the same man who came into your office five minutes ago, and you were too busy to raise your eyes from your papers. It is not me to whom you are now offering courtesy; it's to my money."

"I am sure I beg your pardon. I didn't know--"

"Then you will know in future. If you've got a hand on you, stick it out, whether your visitor has any money or not."

Grant was glaring at the lawyer across the desk, and the pugnacious-looking moustache was beginning to bristle back.

"Did you come in here to read me a lecture, or to get legal advice?" the lawyer returned with some spirit.

"I came in here on business. In the course of that business I find it necessary to tell you where you get off at, and to ask you what you're going to do about it."

The lawyer came around from behind his desk. "And I'll show you," he said, very curtly. "You've been drinking, or you're out of your head.

In either case I'm going to put you out of this room until you are in a different frame of mind."

"Hop to it!" said Grant, bracing himself. Jones was an oldish man, and he had no intention of hurting him. In a moment they clenched, and before Grant could realize what was happening he was on his back.