VIII
STOLEN
"This is, truly, a surprise!" Miss Cavendish exclaimed. "Who would everhave thought of meeting you two in this out-of-the-way place."
"Here, too!" replied Macloud.
"When did you return, Geoffrey?" she inquired.
"From abroad?--I haven't gone," said Croyden. "The business still holdsme."
She looked at him steadily a moment--Macloud was talking to MissBrundage.
"How much longer will it hold you?" she asked.
He shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know--it's difficult ofadjustment.--What brings you here, may I inquire?"
"We were in Washington and came over with the Westons to the Officers'Hop to-night--given for the Secretary of something. He's one of theCabinet. We return in the morning."
"Oh, I see," he answered; the relief in his voice would have missed aless acute ear. "Where are you going now?"
"To a tea at the Superintendent's, when the Westons join us. Comealong!"
"I haven't acquired the Washington habit,--yet!" he laughed. "A man ata tea fight! Oh, no!"
"Then go to the dance with us--Colin! you'll go, won't you?"
"Sure!" said Macloud. "I'll follow your voice any place. Where shall itbe?"
"To the Hop, to-night."
"We're not invited--if that cuts any figure."
"You'll go in our party. Ah! Mrs. Weston, I've presumed to ask Mr.Macloud and Mr. Croyden to join our party to-night."
"The Admiral and I shall be delighted to have them," Mrs. Westonanswered--"Will they also go with us to the tea? No? Well, then,to-night."
Macloud and Croyden accompanied them to the Academy gates, and thenreturned to the hotel.
In the narrow passage between the news-desk and the office, theybumped, inadvertently, into two men. There were mutual excuses, and themen went on.
An hour or so later, Macloud, having changed into his evening clothes,came into Croyden's room and found him down on his knees looking underthe bureau, and swearing vigorously.
"Whee!" he said; "you _are_ a true pirate's heir! Old Parmenter,himself, couldn't do it better. What's the matter--lose something?"
"No, I didn't lose anything!" said Croyden sarcastically. "I'm sayingmy prayers."
"And incidentally searching for this, I suppose?" picking up a pearlstud from under the bed.
Croyden took it without a word.
"And when you've sufficiently recovered your equanimity," Macloud wenton, "you might let me see the aforesaid Parmenter's letter. I want tocogitate over it."
"It's in my wallet!" grinding in the stud--"my coat's on the chair,yonder."
"I don't find it!" said Macloud, searching. "What pocket is it in?"
"The inside breast pocket!" exclaimed Croyden, ramming the last studhome. "Where would you think it is--in the small change pocket?"
"Then suppose you find it for me."
"I'll do it with----" He stopped. "Do you mean it isn't there?" heexclaimed.
"It isn't there!" said Macloud, holding up the coat.
Croyden's fingers flew to the breast pocket--empty! to the otherpockets--no wallet! He seized his trousers; then his waistcoat--nowallet.
"My God! I've lost it!" he cried.
"Maybe you left it in Hampton?" said Macloud.
Croyden shook his head. "I had it when we left the Weston party--I feltit in my pocket, as I bent to tie Miss Cavendish's shoe."
"Then, it oughtn't to be difficult to find--it's lost between theSampson Gate and the hotel. I'm going out to search, possibly in thefading light it has not been noticed. You telephone the office--andthen join me, as quickly as you can get into your clothes."
He dashed out and down the stairs into the Exchange, passing midway,with the barest nod, the Weston party, nor pausing to answer thequestion Miss Cavendish flung after him.
Once on the rear piazza, however, he went slowly down the broad whitesteps to the broad brick walk--the electric lights were on, and henoted, with keen regret, how bright they made it--and thence to theSampson Gate. It was vain! He inquired of the guard stationed there,and that, too, proving unavailing, left directions for its return, iffound.
"What a misfortune!" he muttered, as he renewed the search. "What amisfortune! If any one reads that letter, the jig is up for us....Here! boys," to a crowd of noisy urchins, sitting on the coping alongthe street, "do you want to make a dollar?"
The enthusiasm of the response, not to mention its unanimity,threatened dire disaster to Macloud's toilet.
"Hold on!" he said. "Don't pull me apart. You all can have a chance forit. I've lost a wallet--a pocketbook--between the gate yonder and thehotel. A dollar to the boy who finds it."
With a shout, they set to work. A moment later Croyden came down thewalk.
"I haven't got it," Macloud said, answering his look. "I've been overto the gate and back, and now I've put these gamins to work. They willfind it, if it's to be found. Did you telephone the office?"
"Nothing doing there!" Croyden answered. "And what's more, there won'tbe anything doing here--we shall never find the letter, Macloud."
"That's my fear," Macloud admitted. "Somebody's already found it."
"Somebody's _stolen_ it," Croyden answered.
"What?"
"Precisely!--do you recall our being jostled by two men in the narrowcorridor of the hotel? Well, then is when I lost my wallet. I am sureof it. I wasn't in a position to drop it from my pocket."
Macloud's hand sought his own breast pocket and stopped.
"I forgot to change, when I dressed. Maybe the other fellow made offwith mine. I'll go and investigate--you keep an eye on the boys."
Presently he returned.
"You're right!" he said. "Mine is missing, too. We'll call off theboys."
He flung them some small coins, thereby precipitating a scramble and afight, and they went slowly in.
"There is just one chance," he continued. "Pickpockets usually abstractthe money, instantly, and throw the book and papers away. They want notell-tale evidence. It may be the case here--they, likely, didn'texamine the letter, just saw it _was_ a letter and went no further."
"That won't help us much," said Croyden. "It will be found--it's only aquestion of the pickpockets or some one else."
"But the some one else may be honest. Your card is in the wallet?"
"With Hampton on it."
"The finder may advertise--may look you up at the hotel--may----"
"May bring it back on a gold salver!" Croyden interjected. "No! No!Colin. Our only hope is that the thief threw away the letter, and thatno one finds it until after we have the treasure. The man isn't bornwho, under the circumstances, will renounce the opportunity for a halfmillion dollars."
"Well, at the worst, we have an even chance! Thank Heaven! We know thedirections without the letter. Don't be discouraged, old man--we'll winout, yet."
"I'm not discouraged!" laughed Croyden. "I have never anticipatedsuccess. It was sport--an adventure and a problem to work out, nothingmore. Now, if we have some one else to combat, so much greater theadventure, and more intricate the problem."
"Shall we notify the police?" Macloud asked. "Or isn't it well to getthem into it?"
"I'll confess I don't know. If we could jug the thieves quickly, andrecover the plunder, it might be well. On the other hand, they mightdisclose the letter to the police or to some pal, or try even to treatwith us, on the threat of publicity. On the whole, I'm inclined tosecrecy--and, if the thieves show up on the Point, to have it out withthem. There are only two, so we shall not be overmatched. Moreover, wecan be sure they will keep it strictly to themselves, if we don't forcetheir hands by trying to arrest them."
Macloud considered a moment. "I incline to your opinion. We will simplyadvertise for the wallets to-morrow, as a bluff--and go to work inearnest to find the treasure."
They had entered the hotel again; in the Exchange, the rocking chairbrigade and the knocker's club were gathered.
"The us
ual thing!" Croyden remarked. "Why can't a hotel ever be free ofthem?"
"Because it's a hotel!" laughed Macloud. "Let's go in to dinner--I'mhungry."
The tall head-waiter received them like a host himself, and conductedthem down the room to a small table. A moment later, the Weston partycame in, with Montecute Mattison in tow, and were shown to one nearby,with Harvey's most impressive manner.
An Admiral is some pumpkins in Annapolis, when he is on the _active_list.
Mrs. Weston and the young ladies looked over and nodded; Croyden andMacloud arose and bowed. They saw Miss Cavendish lean toward theAdmiral and say a word. He glanced across.
"We would be glad to have you join us," said he, with a man's fineindifference to the fact that their table was, already, scarcely largeenough for five.
"I am afraid we should crowd you, sir. Thank you!--we'll join youlater, if we may," replied Macloud.
A little time after, they heard Mattison's irritating voice, pitchedloud enough to reach them:
"I wonder what Croyden's doing here with Macloud?" he remarked. "Ithought you said, Elaine, that he had skipped for foreign parts, afterthe Royster smash, last September."
"I did say, Mr. Mattison, I _thought_ he had gone abroad, but I mostassuredly did not say, nor infer, that he had _skipped_, nor connecthis going with Royster's failure!" Miss Cavendish responded. "If youmust say unjust and unkind things, don't make other people responsiblefor them, please. Shoulder them yourself."
"Good girl!" muttered Macloud. "Hand him another!" Then he shot a lookat his friend.
"I don't mind," said Croyden. "They may think what they please--andMattison's venom is sprinkled so indiscriminately it doesn't hurt.Everyone comes in for a dose."
They dallied through dinner, and finished at the same time as theWestons. Croyden walked out with Miss Cavendish.
"I couldn't help overhearing that remark of Mattison's--the beggarintended that I should," said he--"and I want to thank you, Elaine, foryour 'come back' at him."
"I'm sorry I didn't come back harder," said she.
"And if you prefer me not to go with you to the Hop to-night don'thesitate to say so--I'll understand, perfectly. The Westons may havegot a wrong impression----"
"The Westons haven't ridden in the same motor, from Washington toAnnapolis, with Montecute for nothing; but I'll set you straight, neverfear. We are going over in the car--there is room for you both, andMrs. Weston expects you. We will be down at nine. It's the fashion togo early, here, it seems."
Zimmerman was swinging his red-coated military band through a dreamy,sensuous waltz, as they entered the gymnasium, where the Hops, at theNaval Academy, are held. The bareness of the huge room was goneentirely--concealed by flags and bunting, which hung in brilliantfestoons from the galleries and the roof. Myriads of variegated lightsflashed back the glitter of epaulet and the gleam of white shoulders,with, here and there, the black of the civilian looking strangelyincongruous amid the throng that danced itself into a very kaleidoscopeof color.
The Secretary was a very ordinary man, who had a place in the Cabinetas a reward for political deeds done, and to be done. He represented aState machine, nothing more. Quality, temperament, fitness, poise hadnothing to do with his selection. His wife was his equivalent, though,superficially, she appeared to better advantage, thanks to a Parisianmodiste with exquisite taste, and her fond husband's bottomless bankaccount.
Having passed the receiving line, the Westons held a small reception oftheir own. The Admiral was still upon the active list, with four yearsof service ahead of him. He was to be the next Aide on Personnel, theknowing ones said, and the orders were being looked for every day.Therefore he was decidedly a personage to tie to--more important eventhan the Secretary, himself, who was a mere figurehead in theDepartment. And the officers--and their wives, too, if they weremarried--crowded around the Westons, fairly walking over one another intheir efforts to be noticed.
"What's the meaning of it?" Croyden asked Miss Cavendish as they joinedthe dancing throng. "Are the Westons so amazingly popular?"
"Not at all! they're hailing the rising sun," she said--and explained:"They would do the same if he were a mummy or had small-pox. 'Grease,'they call it."
(The watchword, in the Navy, is "grease." From the moment you enter theAcademy, as a plebe, until you have joined the lost souls on theretired list, you are diligently engaged in greasing every one whoranks you and in being greased by every one whom you rank. And the moreassiduous and adroit you are at the greasing business, the morepleasant the life you lead. The man who ranks you can, when placed overyou, make life a burden or a pleasure as his fancy and his dispositiondictate. Consequently the "grease," and the higher the rank the greaterthe "grease," and the number of "greasers.")
"Well-named!--dirty, smeary, contaminating business," said Croyden."And the best 'greasers' have the best places, I reckon. I prefer theunadorned garb of the civilian--and independence. I'll permit thosefellows to fight the battles and draw the rewards--they can do bothvery well."
He did not get another dance with her until well toward the end--andwould not then, if the lieutenant to whom it belonged had not been asecond late--late enough to lose her.
"We are going back to Washington, in the morning," she said. "Can't youcome along?"
"Impossible!" he answered. "Much as I'd like to do it."
She looked up at him, quickly.
"Are you sure you would like to do it?" she asked.
"What a question!" he exclaimed.
"Geoffrey!--what is this business which keeps you here--in the East?"
"Business!" he replied, smiling.
"Which means, I must not ask, I suppose."
He did not answer.
"Will you tell me one thing--just one?" she persisted. "Has Royster &Axtell's failure anything to do with it?"
"Yes--it has!" he said, after a moment's hesitation.
"And is it true that you are seriously embarrassed--have lost most ofyour fortune?"
"It was to be just one question!" he smiled.
"I'm a woman," she explained.
They danced half the length of the room before he replied. He wouldtell her. She, alone, deserved to know--and, if she cared, wouldunderstand.
"I have lost most of my fortune!" he admitted. "I am not, however, inthe least embarrassed--I have no debts."
"And is it 'business,' which keeps you?--will you ever come back toNorthumberland?"
"Yes, it is business that keeps me--important business. Whether or notI shall return to Northumberland, depends on the outcome of thatbusiness."
"Why did you leave without a word of farewell to your friends?" shepersisted.
"Was that unusual?" said Croyden. "Has any of my friendscared--sincerely cared? Has any one so much as inquired for me?"
She looked away.
"They thought you were called to Europe, suddenly," she replied.
"For which thinking you were responsible, Elaine."
"Why I?" she demanded.
"You were the only one I told."
Her eyes sought his, then fell.
"It was because of the failure," she said. "You were the largestcreditor--you disappeared--there were queries and rumors--and I thoughtit best to tell. I hope I did no harm."
"On the contrary," he said, "I am very, very grateful to know that someone thought of me."
The music stopped. It was just in time. Another moment, and he mighthave said what he knew was folly. Her body close to his, his arm aroundher, the splendor of her bared shoulders, the perfume of her hair, theglory of her face, were overcoming him, were intoxicating his senses,were drugging him into non-resistance. The spell was broken not aninstant too soon. He shook himself--like a man rousing from deadsleep--and took her back to their party.
The next instant, as she was whirled away by another, she shot him analluringly fascinating smile, of intimate camaraderie, ofunderstanding, which well-nigh put him to sleep again.
"I would that I migh
t get such a smile," sighed Macloud.
"You go to the devil!" said Croyden. "She has the same smile for allher friends, so don't be silly."
"And don't be blind!" Macloud laughed.
"Moreover, if it's a different smile, the field is open. I'm scratched,you know."
"Can a man be scratched _after_ he has won?" asked Macloud.
"More silliness!" Croyden retorted, as he turned away to search for hispartner.
When the Hop was over, they said good-night at the foot of the stairs,in the Exchange.
"We shall see you in the morning, of course--we leave about teno'clock," said Miss Cavendish.
"We shall be gone long before you are awake," answered Croyden. And,when she looked at him inquiringly, he added: "It's an appointment thatmay not be broken."
"Well, till Northumberland, then!" Miss Brundage remarked.
But Elaine Cavendish's only reply was a meaning nod and anotherfascinating smile. She wished him success.
As they entered their own rooms, a little later, Macloud, in the lead,switched on the lights--and stopped!
"Hello!--our wallets, by all that's good!" he exclaimed.
"Hurrah!" cried Croyden, springing in, and stumbling over Macloud inhis eagerness.
He seized his wallet!--A touch, and the story was told. No need toinvestigate--it was as empty as the day it came from the shop, save fora few visiting cards, and some trifling memoranda. The letter and themoney were gone.
"Damn!" said Croyden.
Macloud laughed.
"You didn't fancy you would find it?" he said.
"No, I didn't, but damn! anyway--who wouldn't?"
"Oh, you're strictly orthodox!" Macloud laughed. "But the pity is thatwon't help us. They've got old Parmenter's letter--and our ready cashas well; but the cash does not count."
"It counts with me," said Croyden. "I'm out something over ahundred--and that's considerable to me now. Anything to show where theywere recovered?"
Macloud was nearest the telephone. He took down the receiver. After atime he was answered.
"What do you know about our wallets?" he asked.... "Thank you!--Theoffice says, they were found by one of the bell-boys in a garbage canon King George Street."
"Very good," said Croyden. "If they mean fight, I reckon we canaccommodate them. Greenberry Point early in the morning."
In Her Own Right Page 8
