by Leroy Scott
CHAPTER XIX
The night of Larry's unexpected call upon her at the Grantham, Maggiehad pulled herself together and aided by the imposing Miss Grierson haddone her best as ingenue hostess to her pseudo-cousin, Barney, and herpseudo-uncle, Old Jimmie, and to their quarry, Dick Sherwood, whomthey were so cautiously stalking. But when Dick had gone, and when MissGrierson had withdrawn to permit her charge a little visit with herrelatives, Barney had been prompt with his dissatisfaction.
"What was the matter with you to-night, Maggie?" he demanded. "Youdidn't play up to your usual form."
"If you don't like the way I did it, you may get some one else," Maggiesnapped back.
"Aw, don't get sore. If I'm stage-managing this show, I guess it's mybusiness to tell you how to act the part, and to tell you when you'reendangering the success of the piece by giving a poor performance."
"Maybe you'd better get some one else to take my part right now."
Maggie's tone and look were implacable. Barney moved uneasily. That wasthe worst about Maggie: she wouldn't take advice from any one unless theadvice were a coincidence with or an enlargement of her own wishes, andshe was particularly temperish to-night. He hastened to appease her.
"I guess the best of us have our off days. It's all rightunless"--Barney hesitated, business fear and jealousy suddenly seizinghim--"unless the way you acted tonight means you don't intend to gothrough with it?"
"Why shouldn't I go through with it?"
"No reason. Unless you acted as you did to-night because"--again Barneyhesitated; again jealousy prompted him on--"because you've heard in someway from Larry Brainard. Have you heard from Larry?"
Maggie met his gaze without flinching. She would take the necessarymeasures in the morning with Miss Grierson to keep that lady fromindiscreet talking.
"I have not heard from Larry, and if I had, it wouldn't be any of yourbusiness, Barney Palmer!"
He chose to ignore the verbal slap in his face of her last phrase. "No,I guess you haven't heard from Larry. And I guess none of us will hearfrom him--not for a long time. He's certainly fixed himself for fair!"
"He sure has," agreed Old Jimmie.
Maggie said nothing.
"Seems to me we've got this young Sherwood hooked," said Old Jimmie, whohad been impatient during this unprofitable bickering. "Seems to meit's time to settle just how we're going to get his dough. How about it,Barney?"
"Plenty of time for that, Jimmie. This is a big fish, and we've got tobe absolutely sure we've got him hooked so he can't get off. We've gotto play safe here; it's worth waiting for, believe me. Besides, all thewhile Maggie's getting practice."
"Seems to me we ought to make our clean-up quick. So that--so that--"
"See here--you think you got some other swell game you want to useMaggie in?"
Old Jimmie's shifty gaze wavered before Barney's glare.
"No. But she's my daughter, ain't she?"
"Yes. But who's running this?" Barney demanded. Thank Heavens, OldJimmie was one person he did not have to treat like a prima donna!
"You are."
"Then shut up, and let me run it!"
"You might at least tell if you've decided how you're going to run it,"persisted Old Jimmie.
"Will you shut up!" snapped Barney.
Old Jimmie said no more. And having asserted his supremacy over at leastone of the two, Barney relented and condescended to talk, lounging backin his chair with that self-conscious grace which had helped make him afigure of increasing note in the gayer restaurants of New York.
It did not enter into Barney's calculations, present or for the future,to make Maggie the mistress of any man. Not that Barney was restrainedby moral considerations. The thing was just bad business. Such a womanmakes but comparatively little; and what is worse, if she chooses, shemakes it all for herself. And Barney, in his cynical wisdom of his poorworld, further knew that the average man enticed into this poor trap,after the woman has said yes, and after the first brief freshness haslost its bloom, becomes a tight-wad and there is little real money to begot from him for any one.
"It's like this: once we've got this Sherwood bird safely hooked,"expanded Barney with the air of an authority, flicking off his cigaretteash with his best restaurant manner, "we can play the game a hundredways. But the marriage proposition is the best bet, and there are twobest ways of working that."
"Which d'you think we ought to use, Barney?" inquired Old Jimmie.
But Barney went on as if the older man had not asked a question. "Bothways depend upon Sherwood being crazy in love, and upon his comingacross with a proposal and sticking to it. The first way, after beingproposed to, Maggie must break down and confess she's married to a manshe doesn't love and who doesn't love her. This husband would probablygive her a divorce, but he's a cagy guy and is out for the coin, andif he smelled that she wanted to remarry some one with money he woulddemand a large price for her freedom. Maggie must further confess thatshe really has no money, and is therefore helpless. Then Sherwood offersto meet the terms of this brute of a husband. If Sherwood falls for thiswe shove in a dummy husband who takes Sherwood's dough--and a bigbank roll it will be!--and that'll be the last Sherwood'll ever see ofMaggie."
Old Jimmie nodded. "When it's worked right, that always brings home thekale."
"The only question is," continued Barney, "can Maggie put that stuffover? How about it, Maggie? Think you're good enough to handle aproposition like that?"
Looking the handsome Barney straight in the eyes, Maggie for the momentthought only of his desire to manage her and of the challenge in histone. Larry and the appeal he had made to her were forgotten, as wasalso Dick Sherwood.
"Anything you're good enough to think up, Barney Palmer, I guess I'mgood enough to put over," she answered coolly.
And then: "What's the other way?" she asked.
"Old stuff. Have to be a sure-enough marriage. Sherwoods are big-timepeople, you know; a sister who's a regular somebody. After marriage,family permitted to learn truth--perhaps something much worsethan truth. Family horrified. They pay Maggie a big wad fora separation--same as so many horrified families get rid ofdaughters-in-law they don't like. Which of the ways suits you best,Maggie?"
Maggie shrugged her shoulders with indifference. It suited her presentmood to maintain her attitude of being equal to any enterprise.
"Which do you like best, Barney?" Old Jimmie asked.
"The second is safer. But then it's slower; and there would be lawyers'fees which would eat into our profits; and then because of the publicitywe might have to wait some time before it would be safe to use Maggieagain. The first plan isn't so complicated, it's quick, and at oncewe've got Maggie free to use in other operations. The first looks thebest bet to me--but, as I said, we don't have to decide yet. We can letdevelopments help make the actual decision for us."
Barney did not add that a further reason for his objecting to the secondplan was that he didn't want Maggie actually tied in marriage to anyman. That was a relationship his hopes were reserving for himself.
Barney's inborn desire for acknowledged chieftainship again cravedassertion and pressed him on to say:
"You see, Maggie, how much depends on you. You've got a whale of achance for a beginner. I hope you take a big brace over to-night andplay up to the possibilities of your part."
"You take care of your end, and I'll take care of mine!" was her sharpretort.
Barney was flustered for a moment by his second failure to dominateMaggie. "Oh, well, we'll not row," he tried to say easily. "Weunderstand each other, and we're each trying to help the other fellow'sgame--that's the main point."
The two men left, Jimmie without kissing his daughter good-night. Thiscaused Maggie no surprise. A kiss, not the lack of it, would have beenthe thing that would have excited wonder in Maggie.
Barney went away well satisfied on the whole with the manner in whichthe affair was progressing, and with his management of it and of Maggie.Maggie was obstinate, to b
e sure; but he'd soon work that out of her. Hewas now fully convinced of the soundness of his explanation of Maggie'spoor performance of that night: she had just had an off day.
As for Maggie, after they had gone she sat up long, thinking--andher thoughts reverted irresistibly to Larry. His visit had been mostdistracting. But she was not going to let it affect her purpose. Ifanything, she was more determined than ever to be what she had told himshe was going to be, to prove to him that he could not influence her.
She tried to keep her mind off Larry, but she could not. He was for herso many questions. How had he escaped?--thrown off both police and oldfriends? Where was he now? What was he doing? And when and how was hegoing to reappear and interfere?--for Maggie had no doubt, now that sheknew him to be in New York, that he would come again; and again try tocheck her.
And there was a matter which she no more understood than Larry, and thiswas another of her questions: Why had she gone into a panic and aidedhis escape?
Of course, she now and then thought of Dick Sherwood. She rather likedDick. But thus far she regarded him exactly as her scheme of life hadpresented him to her: as a pleasant dupe who, in an exciting play inwhich she had the thrilling lead, was to be parted from his money. Shewas rather sorry for him; but this was business, and her sorrow was notgoing to interfere with what she was going to do.
Maggie Cameron, at this period of her life, was not deeplyintrospective. She did not realize what, according to other standards,this thing was which she was doing. She was merely functioning as shehad been taught to function. And if any change was beginning in her, shewas thus far wholly unconscious of it.
