The Grafters

by Francis Lynde

  XXI

  A WOMAN INTERVENES

  It was still early in the evening when Kent mounted the steps of theBrentwood apartment house. Mother and daughters were all on the porch, butit was Mrs. Brentwood who welcomed him.

  "We were just wondering if you would imagine the message which Elinor wasgoing to send, and didn't, and come out to see what was wanted," she said."I am in need of a little legal advice. Will you give me a few minutes inthe library?"

  Kent went with her obediently, but not without wondering why she had sentfor him, of all the retainable lawyers in the capital. And the wonderbecame amazement when she opened her confidence. She had received twoletters from a New York broker who offered to buy her railroad stock at alittle more than the market price. To the second letter she had replied,asking a price ten points higher than the market. At this the broker hadapparently dropped the attempted negotiation, since there had been no moreletters. What would Mr. Kent advise her to do--write again?

  Kent smiled inwardly at the good lady's definition of "legal advice," buthe rose promptly to the occasion. If he were in Mrs. Brentwood's place, hewould not write again; nor would he pay any attention whatever to anysimilar proposals from any source. Had there been any others?

  Mrs. Brentwood confessed that there had been; that a firm of Bostonbrokers had also written her. Did Mr. Kent know the meaning of all thisanxiety to buy in Western Pacific when the stock was going down day byday?

  Kent took time for reflection before he answered. It was exceedinglydifficult to eliminate the personal factor in the equation. If all wentwell, if by due process of law the Trans-Western should be rescued out ofthe hands of the wreckers, the property would be a long time recoveringfrom the wounds inflicted by the cut rates and the Guilford badmanagement. In consequence, any advance in the market value of the stockmust be slow and uncertain under the skilfullest handling. But, while itmight be advisable for Mrs. Brentwood to take what she could get, thetransfer of the three thousand shares at the critical moment might be thedeath blow to all his hopes in the fight for retrieval.

  Happily, he hit upon the expedient of shifting the responsibility for thedecision to other shoulders.

  "I scarcely feel competent to advise you in a matter which is personalrather than legal," he said at length. "Have you talked it over with Mr.Ormsby?"

  Mrs. Brentwood's reply was openly contemptuous.

  "Brookes Ormsby doesn't know anything about dollars. You have to expressit in millions before he can grasp it. He says for me not to sell at anyprice."

  Kent shook his head.

  "I shouldn't put it quite so strongly. At the same time, I am not theperson to advise you."

  The shrewd eyes looked up at him quickly.

  "Would you mind telling me why, Mr. Kent?"

  "Not in the least. I am an interested party. For weeks Mr. Loring and Ihave been striving by all means to prevent transfers of the stock from thehands of the original holders. I don't want to advise you to your hurt;but to tell you to sell might be to undo all that has been done."

  "Then you are still hoping to get the railroad out of Major Guilford'shands?"

  "Yes."

  "And in that case the price of the stock will go up again?"

  "That is just the difficulty. It may be a long time recovering."

  "Do you think the sale of my three thousand shares would make anydifference?" she asked.

  "There is reason to fear that it would make all the difference."

  She was silent for a time, and when she spoke again Kent realized that hewas coming to know an entirely unsuspected side of Elinor's mother.

  "It makes it pretty hard for me," she said slowly. "This little drib ofrailroad stock is all that my girls have left out of what their fatherwilled them. I want to save it if I can."

  "So do I," said David Kent, frankly; "and for the same reason."

  Mrs. Brentwood confined herself to a dry "Why?"

  "Because I have loved your elder daughter well and truly ever since thatsummer at the foot of Old Croydon, Mrs. Brentwood, and her happiness andwell-being concern me very nearly."

  "You are pretty plain-spoken, Mr. Kent. I suppose you know Elinor is to bemarried to Brookes Ormsby?" Mrs. Brentwood was quite herself again.

  Kent dexterously equivocated.

  "I know they have been engaged for some time," he said; but the smallquibble availed him nothing.

  "Which one of them was it told you it was broken off?" she inquired.

  He smiled in spite of the increasing gravity of the situation.

  "You may be sure it was not Miss Elinor."

  "Humph!" said Mrs. Brentwood. "She didn't tell me, either. 'Twas BrookesOrmsby, and he said he wanted to begin all over again, or something ofthat sort. He is nothing but a foolish boy, for all his hair is gettingthin."

  "He is a very honorable man," said Kent.

  "Because he is giving you another chance? I don't mind telling you plainlythat it won't do any good, Mr. Kent."

  "Why?" he asked in his turn.

  "For several reasons: one is that Elinor will never marry without myconsent; another is that she can't afford to marry a poor man."

  Kent rose.

  "I am glad to know how you feel about it, Mrs. Brentwood: nevertheless, Ishall ask you to give your consent some day, God willing."

  He expected an outburst of some sort, and was telling himself that he hadfairly provoked it, when she cut the ground from beneath his feet.

  "Don't you go off with any such foolish notion as that, David Kent," shesaid, not unsympathetically. "She's in love with Brookes Ormsby, and sheknows it now, if she didn't before." And it was with this arrow ranklingin him that Kent bowed himself out and went to join the young women on theporch.