A Captain in the Ranks Part 23
"The worst of it is," he said, "Duncan can't even sue the old scoundrel for libel without making matters worse. Tandy would stick to his story, and as there were no witnesses that story would seem probable to people who don't know Duncan. What are we to do, Captain Hallam?"
"Well, it all depends upon your shrewdness and circ.u.mspection. Tandy is president of the X National Bank, you know. That's his club to fight me with. So, little by little, I've bought in there--through other people, you understand--so that now Stafford and I own forty-eight of the bank's hundred shares of stock, though on the books our names do not appear at all. Tandy owns the other fifty-two shares, I suppose, or at least he controls them. Indeed, whenever a stockholder's meeting occurs he votes practically all the stock, for it has been my policy to hide my hand by having the men who hold stock for me, give him their proxies as a blind.
"Now, what I propose is, that you shall manage somehow to get hold of a little block of the stock--three shares will be enough to give me the majority, but I'd rather make it four or five shares. If we can get the stock I'll surprise Tandy out of a year's growth by going into the stockholders' meeting, which occurs about ten days from now, and proceeding to elect a board of directors for the bank. I'll select the men I want for directors, and the board will at once make Guilford Duncan president of the bank, leaving old Napper a good deal of leisure in which to enjoy life. He'll need it all to convince anybody that there's anything shady in Guilford Duncan's character after it is known that Will Hallam has made him president of a bank."
Hallam chuckled audibly. He was enjoying the game, as he always did.
"Indeed, he will. But everything, as I understand it, depends upon my ability to secure the necessary shares of stock?"
"Yes, it all hangs on that, and it will be a ticklish job. Tandy is as wily as any old fox. You're sure he doesn't know you?"
"Neither by sight nor by name."
"You're sure n.o.body in his bank knows you and your relations with me?"
"Yes, I am certain. I was never in this town before, and as for my relations with you, why they have existed for so brief a time, at such a distance from Cairo, and are so obscure in themselves, that I think n.o.body knows them. Besides, you might discharge me, you know, if that should become necessary."
"We won't consider that as even possible. Now, as to ways and means. You see I depend upon you alone, and of course you must have a free hand.
You mustn't consult me, or Stafford, or Duncan, or anybody else. You are to act on your own judgment, furnish your own supply of sagacity, and get that stock in your own way."
"I'll do it, even if I have to resign from your service and hunt another job. But I must have some money."
"Of course. How much?"
"Well, the stock will cost a trifle over par, I suppose--somewhat more than a thousand dollars a share. I should be prepared to buy a block of ten shares. You see, I might find a block of that kind which the owner would sell 'all or none.' I should have, say, eleven or twelve thousand dollars at instant command."
"All right. I'll have Stafford open an account with you in our bank to-morrow morning, with a credit balance of twelve thousand, and you can check----"
"Pardon me, but if I offer checks on your bank Tandy will suspect our alliance."
"That is true. You must have the greenbacks themselves. I'll send for Stafford now and have him give you the money in large bills to-night."
"Pardon me," answered Temple, "but if I go to him with so great a sum in actual----"
"Yes, I see. That would certainly arouse suspicion. What have you in mind?"
"Why, you or your bank must have banks in correspondence with you, banks in Chicago, or better still, New York?"
"Yes, of course."
"Can you not telegraph to one of them and arrange to have them say in response to a dispatch of inquiry from Tandy's bank, that my credit with them is good for twelve thousand dollars, and that if I wish to make use of some money in Cairo, they will pay my drafts up to that amount?"
"That's it. That will be the best plan in every way. You'll need identification, and I'll arrange that. You're stopping at the hotel, of course?"
"Yes."
"Very well. I'll call by there on my way home, and tell the proprietor, Jewett, to go to the bank and identify you whenever called upon."
"Will he not talk?"
"No. I'll tell him not to, and--well, you know, I'm just now arranging a heavy loan for him. He is paying off the remaining purchase money for the hotel in installments. That's all, I think. I'll send the Fourth National Bank of New York a night message. It will be delivered before banking hours to-morrow morning, but for fear of slips, you'd better wait till noon before giving that bank as your reference. Good-night.
Remember that everything depends on you--including Guilford Duncan's reputation for integrity."
Temple sat for half an hour thinking and planning. He was determined to make no mistakes that might imperil success. To that end he was trying to imagine, in advance, every difficulty and every emergency that might arise. At last he rose, took his hat, turned the lamp out, and left the room.
"This is the very toughest bit of engineering," he reflected, "that ever I undertook. Well, so much the greater the credit if I succeed. But I don't care for the credit. I care only for Guilford Duncan in this case."
XXIV
BARBARA'S ANSWER
When Duncan left his room on the evening of Temple's conference with Will Hallam, he pa.s.sed down the stairs and into the Hallam offices, where he still had a little working den of his own, for use when he did not care to see the people who sought him at his law office.
As he entered he found a little note upon his desk, and he recognized Barbara's small round hand in the superscription. Opening the envelope eagerly he read the few lines within:
You may come for your answer whenever it is convenient--any evening, I mean, for I am at leisure only in the evenings. There is a great deal for me to tell you, and it is going to be very hard for me to tell it. But it is my duty, and I must do it, of course.
I'm afraid it won't be a pleasant evening for either of us.
There was no address, but Duncan observed with pleasure, as a hopeful sign, that the little missive was signed "Barbara."
"She wouldn't have signed it in that informal way, with only her first name, if she meant to break off the acquaintance," he argued with himself. And yet the substance of the note was discouraging in the extreme, so that Guilford Duncan was a very apprehensive and unhappy man as he hurried to Barbara's home. He still held her note crushed in his hand as he entered the house, and he read it over twice while waiting for her to appear. For this time--the first in his acquaintance with her--Barbara kept him waiting. She had not meant to do that, but found it necessary because of her own agitation in antic.i.p.ation of the grievous task that was hers to do. She must resolutely bring herself under control, she felt, before meeting this crisis. She even tried in vain to "think out" the first sentences that she must speak. Finding this impossible she gave it up at last, and with all of composure that she could command, she entered the parlor and stood face to face with Guilford Duncan.
She could say no word as he stood looking eagerly into her eyes, as if questioning them. He, too, was silent for perhaps a minute, when at last, realizing the girl's distressing agitation, he gently took her hand, saying in his soft, winning voice:
"You are not well. You must sit down."
"Oh, it isn't that," she answered, as she seated herself bolt upright upon the least easy chair in the room. "It is what I must tell you."
"What is it? I am waiting anxiously to hear."
"You must be very patient then," she answered with difficulty. "It is hard to say, and I don't know where to begin. Oh, yes, I know now. I must begin where we left off when--well, that other time."
Duncan saw that she needed a.s.sistance, and he gave it by speaking soothingly to her, saying:
"You are to begin wherever you find it easiest to begin, and you are to tell me nothing that it distresses you to tell."
"Oh, but all of it distresses me, and I must tell it--all of it."
Again Duncan spoke soothingly, and presently the girl began again.
"Well, first, I can never--I mean I mustn't--I mustn't say 'yes' to the questions you asked me that other time."
"You mean when I asked if you would be my wife?"