The offices of James Bansemer were two floors above those ofRobertson Ray Rigby in the U__ Building. The morning after GraydonBansemer's important visit to the home of the Cables, Eddie Deeverlounged into Rigby's presence. He seemed relieved to find thatthe stenographer was ill and would not be down that day. The lankyyoungster studiously inspected the array of law books in the casesfor some time, occasionally casting a sly glance at Bobby. At lasthe ventured a remark somewhat out of the ordinary--for him:
"That old man up in Bansemer's office gets on my nerves," said he,settling his long frame in a chair and breaking in upon Rigby'sattention so suddenly that the lawyer was startled into a quicklook of interest.
"Old Droom? What do you know about him?"
"Nothing in particular, of course. Only he sort of jars me when hetalks." Rigby saw that the young man had something on his mind.
"I did not know that you were personal friends," ventured Rigby.
"Friends?" snorted Eddie. "Holy Mackerel! He scares the life outof me. I know him in a business way, that's all. He came down herethree weeks ago and borrowed some books for Bansemer. I had to goup and get 'em yesterday. I was smoking a cigarette. When I askedthe old guy for the books he said I'd go to hell if I smoked. Ithought I'd be funny, so I said back to him: "I'll smoke if I goto hell, so what's the diff?" It went all right with him, too. Helaughed--you ought to see him laugh!--and told me to sit down whilehe looked up the books. I was there half an hour and he talked allthe time. By jing! He makes your blood run cold. He up and said therewas no such place as hell. "Why not?" says I. "Because," says he,"God, with all His infinite power, could not conceive of a spacehuge enough to hold all the hypocrites and sinners." Then he grinnedand said he had set aside in his will the sum of a hundred dollarsto build a church for the honest man. "That will be a pretty smallchurch," says I. "It will be a small congregation, my son," sayshe. "What few real honest men we have will hesitate to attend forfear of being ostracised by society." "Gee whiz, Mr. Droom, that'spretty hard on society," says I, laughing. "Oh, for that matter,I have already delivered my eulogy on society," says he. "But itain't dead," says I. "Oh, yes; it's so rotten it must surely bedead," says he in the nastiest way I ever heard. He's a fearful oldman, Mr. Rigby. He made a mean remark about that Mrs. David Cable."
"What did he say?" quickly demanded Bobby.
"He said he'd been reading in the papers about how she wasbreaking into society. "She's joined the Episcopal church," sayshe, sarcastic-like. "Well, there's nothing wrong in that,' says I.'I know, but she attends,' says he, just as if she shouldn't. 'Shewouldn't attend if the women in that church wore Salvation Armyclothes and played tambourines, let me tell you. None of 'em would.I knew her in New York years ago. She wasn't fashionable then. Nowshe's so swell that she'll soon be asking Cable to build a mansionat Rose Lawn Cemetery, because all of the fashionables go there.'Pretty raw, eh, Mr. Rigby?"
"Oh, he's an old blatherskite, Eddie. They talk that way when theyget old and grouchy. So he knew Mrs. Cable in New York, eh? Whatelse did he say about her?"
"Nothing much. Oh, yes, he did say--in that nasty way of his--thathe saw her on the street the other day chatting with one of therichest swells in Chicago. He didn't say who he was except thathe was the man who once made his wife sit up all night in the daycoach while he slept in the only berth to be had on the train. Doyou know who that could be?"
"I'm afraid Droom was romancing," said Bobby, with a smile.
"Say, Mr. Rigby," said Eddie earnestly, "what sort of businessdoes Mr. Bansemer handle?" Rigby had difficulty in controlling hisexpression. "I was wondering, because while I was there yesterdaya girl I know came out of the back room where she had been talkingto Bansemer. She's no good."
"Very likely she was consulting him about something," said Rigbyquietly.
"She soaked a friend of mine for a thousand when she was singingin the chorus in one of the theatres here."
"Do you know her well?"
"I--er--did see something of her at one time. Say, don't mentionit to Rosie, will you? She's not strong for chorus girls," saidEddie anxiously. "A few days ago I saw a woman come out of hisoffice, heavily veiled. She was crying, because I could hear thesobs. I don't go much on Bansemer, Mr. Rigby. Darn him, he calledme a pup one day when I took a message up for Judge Smith."
"See here, Eddie," said Rigby, leaning forward suddenly, "I'veheard two or three queer things about Bansemer. I want you to tellme all you hear from Droom and all that you see. Don't you thinkyou could cultivate Droom's acquaintance a bit? Keep this veryquiet--not a word to anybody. It may mean something in the end."
"Gee whiz!" murmured Eddie, his eyes wide with interest. From thatday on he and Bobby Rigby were allies--even conspirators.
Later in the day Rigby had a telephone message from Graydon Bansemer,suggesting that they lunch together. All he would say over the wirewas that he would some day soon expect Rigby to perform a happyservice for him. Bobby understood and was troubled, He suspectedthat Graydon had asked Jane Cable to marry him and that she hadconsented. He loved Graydon Bansemer, but for the first time intheir acquaintance he found himself wondering if the son were notplaying into the father's hands in this most desirable matrimonialventure. With a shudder of repugnance he put the thought from him,loyal to that good friend and comrade.
James Bansemer came into his office late that morning. He hadnot seen Graydon the night before, but at breakfast the young manannounced his good fortune and asked for his blessing. To the son'ssurprise, the elder man did not at once express his approval. Fora long time he sat silent and preoccupied to all appearance, narrowlystudying his son's face until the young man was constrained tolaugh in his nervousness.
"You love her--you are very sure?" asked the father at last.
"Better than my life," cried Graydon warmly.
"She has good blood in her," said Bansemer, senior, slowly, almostabsently.
"I should say so. Her father is a wonderful man."
"Yes, I daresay," agreed the other without taking his eyes fromthe son's face.
"But you don't say whether you approve or disapprove," complainedGraydon.
"Would it change matters if I disapproved?"
"Not in the least, father. I love her. I'd hate to displease youin--"
"Then, of course, I approve," said the other, with his warmestsmile. "Jane is a beauty and--I am proud of her."
"She is too good for me," lamented Graydon happily.
"I can't very well contradict her future husband," said the lawyer.There was a hungry look in his eyes as he glanced from time to timeat the face of the boy who had his mother's unforgettable eyes.
A messenger brought Mrs. Cable's note to Bansemer soon after hisarrival at the office. He and Elias Droom were in the back officewhen the boy came. They had been discussing the contents of aletter that came in the early mail. The lawyer accepted the noteand dismissed the boy with the curt remark that he would telephonean answer in person.
"It looks to me as though this is going to be a rather ticklishaffair," Droom resumed after the boy had closed the outer door behindhim. Bansemer's mind was on Mrs. Cable's note; a queer smile hungon his lips.
"I'm rather touched by her astuteness," he said. "She's clevererthan I thought. Oh," suddenly remembering that it was not Mrs.Cable's letter they were discussing, "you always see the drearyside of things, Elias."
"I haven't forgotten New York," said the clerk drily.
"Ah, but Chicago isn't New York, you know."
"Well, I was just reminding you. This man is going to fight back,that is plain."
"That's what Mrs. Norwood promised to do, also, Elias. But she waslike a lamb in the end."
"I wouldn't be very proud of that affair, if I were you."
"See here, Droom, you're getting a trifle too familiar of late. Idon't like it," said Bansemer sharply.
"I beg your pardon, Mr. Bansemer," said Droom, scraping his footacross the floor and looking straight past his master's head.
"It'sfor the good of the cause, that's all. It wouldn't do, on Graydon'saccount, for you to be driven from Chicago at this time. You see,he thinks you are beyond reproach."
"Curse your impudence, Droom, I won't be spoken to in that way,"exclaimed Bansemer, white with sudden rage and loathing.
"Am I to expect my discharge, sir?" asked Droom, rubbing his handsabjectly, but looking squarely into Bansemer's eyes for the firsttime in their acquaintance. Bansemer glared back for an instantand then shrugged his shoulders with a nervous laugh.
"We shan't quarrel, Elias," he said. "Speaking of Graydon, he isto be married before long."
"I trust he is to do well, sir. Graydon is a fine boy."
"He is to marry David Cable's daughter."
"Indeed? I did not know that David Cable had a daughter."
"You know whom I mean--Jane Cable." He turned rather restlessly,conscious that Droom's eyes were following him to the window. Heglanced again at Mrs. Cable's note and waited.
"I suppose you are pleased," said Droom, after a long pause.
"Certainly. Jane is a splendid girl. She's beautiful, accomplishedand--well, she's thoroughbred," said Bansemer steadily, turning toface the old man.
"It is not necessary to remind you that she is a child of love,"said Droom, "That's the genteel way to put it."
"It's not like you to be genteel, Elias. Still," and he sat downand leaned forward eagerly, "she has good blood from both sides."
"Yes--the so-called best."
"You speak as if you know the truth."
"I think--yes, I'm sure I know. I have known for twenty years, Mr.Bansemer. I had the same means as you of finding out whose childshe was."
"That's more than Mrs. Cable knows."
"She did not take the trouble to investigate. It's too late now."
"I don't believe you really know the names of her father andmother," said Bansemer shrewdly. "You are trying to trick me intotelling you what I DO know."
"There are portraits of her ancestors hanging in Fifth Avenue,"said Droom promptly. "Here," and he picked up a pencil, "I'll writethe initials of the two persons responsible for her existence. Youdo the same and we'll see that they tally." He quickly scratchedfour letters on a pad of paper. Bansemer hesitated and then slowlywrote the initials on the back of an envelope. Without a word theyexchanged the papers. After a moment they both smiled in relief.Neither had been tricked. The initials were identical.
"I imagine the ancestors hanging in Fifth Avenue would be amazedif they knew the story of Jane," said Droom, with a chuckle.
"I doubt it, Droom. Ancestors have stories, too, and they hidethem."
"Well, she isn't the only girl who doesn't know."
"I dare say. It isn't a wise world."
"It's a lucky one. That's why it assumes to be decent."
"You are quite a cynic, Elias."
"By the way, now that your son is to marry her, I'd like to knowjust what your game is."
Bansemer turned on him like a tiger, his steely eyes blazing.
"Game? There is no game, damn you. Listen to me, Droom; we'll settlethis now. I'm a bad man, but I've tried to be a good father. Peoplehave called me heartless. So be it. But I love that boy of mine.What little heart I have belongs to him. There can be no game wherehe is concerned. Some day, perhaps, he'll find out the kind of aman I've been to others, but can always remember that I was fairand honest with him. He'll despise my methods and he'll spurnmy money, but he'll have to love me. Jane Cable is not the girl Iwould have chosen for him, but she is good and true and he lovesher."
For the first time in his life Elias Droom shrank beneath the eyesof his master. He hated James Bansemer from the bottom, of hiswretched soul, but he could not but feel, at this moment, a touchof admiration.
Through all the years of their association Elias Droom had hatedBansemer because he was qualified to be the master, because hewas successful and forceful, because he had loved and been loved,because they had been classmates but not equals. In the bitternessof his heart he had lain awake on countless nights praying--but notto his God--that the time would come when he could stand ascendantover this steely master. Only his unswerving loyalty to a dutyonce assumed kept him from crushing Bansemer with exposure yearsbefore. But Droom was not a traitor. He remained standing, liftinghis eyes after a brief, shifting study of his bony hands.
"You have nothing to fear from me," he said. "Your boy is the onlybeing in the world that I care for. He hates me. Everybody hates me.But it doesn't matter. I asked what your game was because we knowJane's father and mother. That's all. Mrs. David Cable, I presume,can be preyed upon with safety."
"Mrs. Cable has much to lose," significantly.
"And how much to pay?" with a meaning look.
"That is her affair, Droom."
"I wouldn't press her too hard," cautioned Droom. "She's a woman."
"Never fear. I'm going there for dinner to-night. It's a familyaffair. By the way, here's a letter from a distinguished politicalleader. He suggests that I act on the city central committee forthe coming year. You've heard of him, I daresay. He says it willmean a great deal to me here in Chicago."
"You are not going into politics?" scornfully.
"Elias, I'm pretty bad, but I'm not bad enough for local politics."
They heard someone at the outer door at that moment, and Droom glidedforth from the inner room to greet the visitor. It was Eddie Deever.
"Say, Mr. Droom, do you suppose Mr. Bansemer would object if I satdown here for a few minutes to look over his books on Famous Crimesin History? Old Smith hasn't got 'em."
"Go ahead," said Droom, taking his seat at the desk. "You are agreat reader, I perceive. A literary person like you ought to livein Boston. Everybody reads in Boston."
"Boston?" sniffed Eddie, pulling a book from the shelf. "They'restill reading the Old Testament there."
CHAPTER XI
AN EVENING WITH DROOM