Read Brewster's Millions Page 12


  CHAPTER XII

  CHRISTMAS DESPAIR

  Brewster made a good story of the "hold-up" at the club, but he did notrelate all the details. One of the listeners was a new publiccommissioner who was aggressive in his efforts at reform. AccordinglyBrewster was summoned to headquarters the next morning for the purposeof looking over the "suspects" that had been brought in. Almost thefirst man that he espied was a rough-looking fellow whose identitycould not be mistaken. It was Bill.

  "Hello, Bill," called Monty, gaily. Bill ground his teeth for a second,but his eyes had such an appeal in them that Monty relented.

  "You know this fellow, Mr. Brewster?" demanded the captain, quickly.Bill looked utterly helpless.

  "Know Bill?" questioned Monty in surprise. "Of course I do, Captain."

  "He was picked up late last night and detained, because he would giveno account of his actions."

  "Was it as bad as that, Bill?" asked Brewster, with a smile. Billmumbled something and assumed a look of defiance. Monty's attitudepuzzled him sorely. He hardly breathed for an instant, and gulpedperceptibly.

  "Pass Bill, Captain. He was with me last night just before my money wastaken, and he couldn't possibly have robbed me without my knowledge.Wait for me outside, Bill. I want to talk to you. I'm quite sureneither of the thieves is here, Captain," concluded Brewster, afterBill had obeyed the order to step out of the line.

  Outside the door the puzzled crook met Brewster, who shook him warmlyby the hand.

  "You're a peach," whispered Bill, gratefully "What did you do it for,mister?"

  "Because you were kind enough not to cut my shirt."

  "Say, you're all right, that's what. Would you mind havin' a drink withme? It's your money, but the drink won't be any the worse for that. Weblowed most of it already, but here's what's left." Bill handed Monty aroll of bills.

  "I'd a kept it if you'd made a fight," he continued, "but it ain'tsquare to keep it now."

  Brewster refused the money, but took back his watch.

  "Keep it, Bill," he said, "you need it more than I do. It's enough toset you up in some other trade. Why not try it?"

  "I will try, boss," and Bill was so profuse in his thanks that Montyhad difficulty in getting away; As he climbed into a cab he heard Billsay, "I will try, boss, and say, if ever I can do anything for you jes'put me nex'. I'm nex' you all de time."

  He gave the driver the name of his club, but as he was passing theWaldorf he remembered that he had several things to say to Mrs. Dan.The order was changed, and a few moments later he was received in Mrs.Dan's very special den. She wore something soft and graceful inlavender, something that was light and wavy and evanescent, and madeyou watch its changing shadows. Monty looked down at her with thefeeling that she made a very effective picture.

  "You are looking pretty fit this morning, my lady," he said by way ofpreamble. "How well everything plays up to you."

  "And you are unusually courtly, Monty," she smiled. "Has the worldtreated you so generously of late?"

  "It is treating me generously enough just now to make up for anything,"and he looked at her. "Do you know, Mrs. Dan, that it is borne in uponme now and then that there are things that are quite worth while?"

  "Oh, if you come to that," she answered, lightly, "everything is worthwhile. For you, Monty, life is certainly not slow. You can dominate;you can make things go your way. Aren't they going your way now,Monty"--this more seriously--"What's wrong? Is the pace too fast?"

  His mood increased upon him with her sympathy. "Oh, no," he said, "itisn't that. You are good--and I'm a selfish beast. Things are perverseand people are desperately obstinate sometimes. And here I am taking itout on you. You are not perverse. You are not obstinate. You are aripper, Mrs. Dan, and you are going to help me out in more ways thanone."

  "Well, to pay for all these gallantries, Monty, I ought to do much. I'myour friend through thick and thin. You have only to command me."

  "It was precisely to get your help that I came in. I'm tired of thoseconfounded dinners. You know yourself that they are all alike--the samepeople, the same flowers, the same things to eat, and the same inanetwaddle in the shape of talk. Who cares about them anyway?"

  "Well, I like that," she interrupted. "After all the thought I put intothose dinners, after all the variety I so carefully secured! My dearboy, you are frightfully ungrateful."

  "Oh, you know what I mean. And you know quite as well as I do that itis perfectly true. The dinners were a beastly bore, which proves thatthey were a loud success. Your work was not done in vain. But now Iwant something else. We must push along the ball we've been talking of.And the yachting cruise--that can't wait very much longer."

  "The ball first," she decreed. "I'll see to the cards at once, and in aday or two I'll have a list ready for your gracious approval. And whathave you done?"

  "Pettingill has some great ideas for doing over Sherry's. Harrison isin communication with the manager of that Hungarian orchestra you spokeof, and he finds the men quite ready for a little jaunt across thewater. We have that military band--I've forgotten the number of itsregiment--for the promenade music, and the new Paris sensation, thecontralto, is coming over with her primo tenore for some specialnumbers."

  "You were certainly cut out for an executive, Monty," said Mrs. Dan."But with the music and the decorations arranged, you've only begun.The favors are the real thing, and if you say the word, we'll surprisethem a little. Don't worry about it, Monty. It's a go already. We'llpull it off together."

  "You are a thoroughbred, Mrs. Dan," he exclaimed. "You do help a fellowat a pinch."

  "That's all right, Monty," she answered; "give me until after Christmasand I'll have the finest favors ever seen. Other people may have theirpaper hats and pink ribbons, but you can show them how the thing oughtto be done."

  Her reference to Christmas haunted Brewster, as he drove down FifthAvenue, with the dread of a new disaster. Never before had he lookedupon presents as a calamity; but this year it was different.Immediately he began to plan a bombardment of his friends with costlytrinkets, when he grew suddenly doubtful of the opinion of his uncle'sexecutor upon this move. But in response to a telegram, SwearengenJones, with pleasing irascibility, informed him that "anyone with adrop of human kindness in his body would consider it his duty to giveChristmas presents to those who deserved them." Monty's way was nowclear. If his friends meant to handicap him with gifts, he knew a wayto get even. For two weeks his mornings were spent at Tiffany's, andthe afternoons brought joy to the heart of every dealer in antiquitiesin Fourth and Fifth Avenues. He gave much thought to the matter in theeffort to secure many small articles which elaborately concealed theirvalue. And he had taste. The result of his endeavor was that manyfriends who would not have thought of remembering Monty with even acard were pleasantly surprised on Christmas Eve.

  As it turned out, he fared very well in the matter of gifts, and forsome days much of his time was spent in reading notes of profusethanks, which were yet vaguely apologetic. The Grays and Mrs. Dan hadremembered him with an agreeable lack of ostentation, and some of the"Little Sons of the Rich," who had kept one evening a fortnight openfor the purpose of "using up their meal-tickets" at Monty's, were onlytoo generously grateful. Miss Drew had forgotten him, and when they metafter the holiday her recognition was of the coldest. He had thoughtthat, under the circumstances, he could send her a gift of value, butthe beautiful pearls with which he asked for a reconciliation werereturned with "Miss Drew's thanks." He loved Barbara sincerely, and itcut. Peggy Gray was taken into his confidence and he was comforted byher encouragement. It was a bit difficult for her to advise him to tryagain, but his happiness was a thing she had at heart.

  "It's beastly unfair, Peggy," he said. "I've really been white to her.I believe I'll chuck the whole business and leave New York."

  "You're going away?" and there was just a suggestion of a catch in herbreath.

  "I'm going to charter a yacht and sail away from this place for threeor fou
r months." Peggy fairly gasped. "What do you think of thescheme?" he added, noticing the alarm and incredulity in her eyes.

  "I think you'll end in the poor-house, Montgomery Brewster," she said,with a laugh.