THE STORYTELLER.

Taranaki Daily News, Volume LII, Issue 221, 23 October 1909, Page 3

THE STORYTELLER.

THE HONOR OF THE FIRM. A quarter of an !>«>»■» '*''!« brought Durward ireui to IUo great lwu>« »i Cavendish Square, He 'oomi.l.nl up Hie stone stairway, and liien, hi- n»nd ;'n the bell-push, hx l**"^' 1 moim'iiuniy with a simdvit »•««' of »m. Ncier l»'{ore had lie realised so keenly lW good fortune whieu j?U" him unchallenged entrance to the prixaic rwidenee ..i Thomas Blakeley. "ih''" Thomas Blakcley of Copthall Avenue. No one knew better tliau himself hcv people of renown and standing strove and intrigued for five minutes' audience of the senior partner in Steerwoou, Blakeley and Co.; and he, Durward Trent, who barely two years ago had been a clerk in a small Melbourne bank, had come here to dine eu famille iwit'u this mighty man of money, this prince, nay, this despot of finance. Indeed, not only to enjoy his hospitality tonight; but to exact from him the right of ace access and close intimacy at all limes. As he was shown into the cosy draw-ing-room, Evelyn Blakeley came to meet him with a smile of loving understanding. . Before, however, they could exchange more than a word of greeting, Mr. Blakeley entered briskly. : "Ah, Durward," he said, shaking • hands, "punctual, of course." And then he turned to his daughter. "1 say, ( Evelyn, when does this musical evennig (

of yours begin?" "Xot before nine," replied the girl. * "Hood. That'll give us time to smoke a cigar together afterwards—eh, Durward?"

"As you please, sir—l'm entirely in

your hands," replied the young man. "Vou might be in worse, my boy," laughed the financier. "Kow then, come on, children." '•.-. The meal was agreeable enough. It was made more agreeable to Trent by the auspicious omen he derived from ' Mr. Blakeley's unusual bonhomie, and tile prospect of an uninterrupted chat. Evelyn had stage-managed that part of the business very well, as Trent tried to convey to her by sundry grateful looks, more especially when at the conclusion of the dinner she rose and left the two men alone. "Now then, my boy, out with it," said Mr. Blakeley abruptly. "Get it off your chest." Durward gave a little start of embarrassed surprise. "Sorry to have taken you so unawares," the financier continued, iwith a pleasantly quizzical smile. "To save you trouble I'd better say it for yoa. i'ou want to ask my consent to your marrying my daughter." "Yes, sir," stammered Durward, "Evelyn and I " "H'm, a clever theft!" Mr. Blakeley interrupted him. "What is?" exclaimed Durward, rising invluntarily. "That of my little girl's heart. As a rule I know when a man is going to ro i me even before he knows it himself. This time, I'll confess, I didn't guess tili . the last moment which way the wind was blowing. 1 suppose I was too busy with other things." "Well, sir, it only needs a word from you to convert my—my loot into a lawful possession." "I like your way of putting it. But— I'm sorry. I don't feel disposed to speak that word."

By a great effort Durward held himself erect under the crushing blow. He was sufficiently acquainted with Thomas Blakeley to know that his refusal, quiet and nonchalant almost though it sounded, ,was fraught with a fatal finality.

"I suppose that settles the matter, sir," he said. "May I ask, though, what it is you have against me? Not that, of course, you owe me any explanation." "Oh, I don't mind explaining! The fact of the matter, my boy, is that I really don't know you." "That's rather an admission for you to make. You certainly knew less of me two years ago when you gave me a responsible position in your firm merely on the strength of the recommendation I brought you from your old schoolmate, my father." 'The case is rather different. Then I only ran the risk of losing a little money. Here my daughter' 6 happiness is at stake."

"So it will be with any other man," said Durward quickly. "Ah, but there are the probabilities, listen to what I mean, Mr. Trent"—Durward winced at the formal address. "As my son-in-law, you will be entitled to a partnership. When I die it is possible that the control of my gigantic business will pass into your hands. You will bare immense opportunities for good or for evil. You might abuse those opportunities. In handling other peoples money one is tempted to mistake rasnness for enterprise and self-interest for commercial rectitude. The fever >of speculation is apt to shrivel up one's conscience. I must take my precautions. In tact, I have made other plans for Evelyn."

"Yes, she told me—young Mr. Steerwood." The words escaped Durward with a rush, and then he shrank hack, scared at his own indiscretion.

"Well, and why not young Stcci wood?" Mr. Blakeley proceeded urbanely. "My late partner's son, brought n in the traditions of the firm, with i*.i unsullied record for straight - dealing, 6hrewd, level-headed like his father, the soul of honor—l should die happy knowing the interests of my child and rfty Tiulfness were in such hands. I think we will leave it at that. You can't say I haven't given you a fair hearing." "No, sir. -I'm much obliged to you." "And, of course, it's quite unnecessary to pledge you to discontinue your attentions to my'daughtcr." "Oh, quite, sir!" The rest of the evening was to Durward a sort of nightmare. The only consolation he had was to see his despair reflected in Evelyn's pallid face, and the few wordarcounselliiig hope and patience she whispered to him as he took an early departure from the gay throng in the drawing-room. The next morning found him outwardly calm and collected for the weary round of office routine. Xcithcr he nor Mr. Blakeley gave the slightest indication that, anything had occurred to ruffle the smooth current of their olHcial intercourse. To Durwwrd's great surprise, however, Mr. Blakeley himself referred to the matter again nearly ? week later.

'•"Mr. Trent," he said, as if to accentuate once more, the change which their private relations had undergone, "it has suggested itself to me that I owe you perhaps some compensation for refusing a certain request of yours the other night." "Nothing will compensate me for that, lir." .

"Oh, pooh, pooh—iwe'vc all been young at imi" lime or another of our lives. These iiwigs only follow their normal course. As I said, I want to do something to make your loss good to you to some extent. A chance offers of giving you- promotion." "Indeed, sir?" '•Provided, of course, that you come up to (he scratch. The firm has obtained an important concession to work a platinum ihiii" in Southern Siberia, We arc asfciug 'in- public to subscribe three-quarters of a million. I haven't. been altogether satisfied w ith the way in which our last two or three prospectuses have been drawn up —Grim-1 ston is getting old and losing his grip on things. Would you like to try yourj hand at this one?" "I don't know-but. I'll do my bet, 1 tir." "That's right!" Mr. Blakeley walked fo a drawer and took from it an nifelope. "Our mining expert has sent me his report, which I myself have here dl gested into facts and figures. Tak.> the-< borne with you and see what you r;i ~ with them. Many a man would :' . year of his life to get your "I dare. say. sir," replied Durward vaguely. He really n\eant to say that he tli>l not care how many years he might be required (o give in exchange. He had little use left for his life. He ate a cheerless dinner at his lodgings, and then sat and smoked a moody pipe, in (he same nrnichnir in which he had sat and built those .splendid castles in the air only a week ago.

ThtvpcMion to decide for him really was whether he would not do better to shake the" dust of the hard. merciless' city off his feet and hie himself back to the' obsenritrand oblivion of his father's sheep farm in the Australian bush. On - second thoughts, however, a ferocious lesolvc, an almost brutal zest came oyer him to keen up the struggle, to win suc- . cess, even if achievement would only set off in more poignant relief the mockery - of the might-have-bee.i. Tin prospectus should lie p. masterpiece. Tf he could not gain Mr. JilakcTty's daughter, he would nt least gain sf>. BlakeleyV respect, however poor that might he as a Milistitnte. He moved to the table and spread the eonte.its of the envelop? liefore him - There were half-a-dozen sheets of fools- . c*p covered with Mr. Hlakeley's broad. '- sprawling hand. Among these, as though it had slipped in by accident, was what

ppcarcd to he a letter, written on thin ureign notepaper, ami folded in three. Unsuspiciously, Dunvard opened it, mid lien dropped il suddenly, for at the ,cad of the page his eyes had caught lie words. "PrivnUt and Cuiilldi'utial.-' 'he insiiiii't of iln* gentleman made him oluctuiit to pn imo oilier people's pi.ale concern.,. 'l'lifii again lir rellected hat lho Idler, being where it was, was 1 robablv pan and panel of ||i,. material or the pr.i-.peelii,. Mr. Illaki'ley was ot the man 10 let tiling, stray' from heir proper place. Thai decided him. bipidly lie ran through tlie ietier. It .-as written in plain Knglish. lit Dorivard had to admii to himself, rankiy that he did not understand ii. le read it a second time, but with no rcator success. It was only at the third I eadiug that he convinced himself that lis senses were not playing liim false. .0 wonder the letter was marked "i'n-[ ate mid Confidential," he observed to; limself grimly. I "Dear Mr. "Ulakelov," it rend, "I am' eliding you herewith uiy final report on lie platinum mine at Lamsk. 1 know i ou ure extremely anxious to avail yourelf of the concession ollered by' the | ■ tussiau Government, and for that rea | on, and in accordance lyth your express equest, 1 have toned down my objec- ' ions to the undertaking as far' as pos-1' ihlc, so as to make it sulliciently palat-| ble to the directors and to the public. 'or your private information, however, j would specify the following points: "(a) The lode is extremely poor, anil ' he metal obtainable of inferior quality, c .wing to the disproportionately large ail- ' nixture of baser species, such as magletic oxide of iron, zirconc, and corun- ; lum. '

\i>) j in: uiiiiL-miv ui coninnssariai transport. "(c) The neighborhood of tin: convict ' settlement of Olcnstva and the prevalence of roving Tartar hordes, which will necessitate the upkeep of an armed force ' for the protection of the works. | "In view of these facts it is, of course, for you to consider whether it is advis-, \ able to put the shares on the market.—' Yours faithfully, "JAMES HrUTIiN-SMITH." |j Durward leant back in his elixir, try-; ing to grasp the matter in all its near-!, itigs. But he speedily gave up the at- t tempt. The room .seemed to have liar- " towed in upon him, refusing his thoughts scope to expand. With a spasmodic; movement he thrust the bundle ot: J papers into his writing-desk, snatched I up his hat, and rushed into the open. • The problem he had to solve, as he paced . the streets till the small hours of the i j morning, was how to reconcile, in the light of the Burton-Smith letter, llr. „ Blakeley'e prospectus with his ooast concorning the honorable traditions of his | firm and its unsullied record for straight | t dnalinir. .

By the time he reacted the office tht next day Diirward's plan of action waa complete. There only one way of clearing up this knotty point, and thai was by putting it to Mi*. Blakeley himself. Tiie moment his chief arrived Dur* ward Hdit in an urgent request for an interview. "Well. Mr. Trent —finished that prospectus?'' igked the great man in his most genial manner. I was the curt reply. | "Well, then, take more time. Take a couple of days, a week, a month. The | matter is not really pressing.'' "I tshall never write the prospectus,

"What, too much for you? All right. There's no harm don:'. I'll get someliody else to do it." "You won't, sir. I tell you, your mine will never be floated."

"That's a rather ennous thing to say, Mr. Trent.' replied Mr. Blakeley, gazing in bland Mil-prise at Durward over top of his spectacles.

"But it's true, Mr. Blakeley. I shall do all 1 can to prevent this egregious fraud from being sprung on the public." "Do you mind explaining yourself, young man?" "I suppose it will be enough to say Mr. Burton-Smith's private-letter to you happened to fall into my hands. It was in the envelope you gave me yesterday." Mr. Blakeley gazed at him with a sphinx-like expression, not the least sign of emotion on his stonewall face. "Burton-Smith's letter—ah, yes, very careless o f me! I suppose that rather gave the game away. Well, Mr. Trent, I'll troubU vou to return that letter to

"I shall do nothing of tnc soft, "Sir. Blakeley. I intend to keep that letter as a guarantee." "Of my good behaviour, eh? Very well, then, Mr. Trent. I dare say you (an easily understand that I would .sooner keep that letter in my own |ios-se-sion than even in yours. So 1 don't mind negotiating with you for it." "Negotiate?" "It's wi rlh my while to offer you a substantial quid pro quo for it. Shall we sav a junior partnership?'' "I am not to be bribed, sir," was Durward's vehement reply. "Oh. yes. you are. Every man has his price. Perhaps the brib- Un't big enou'ili. Well, ihi'ii, what do you sayto -inv daughter?" "Sir', I can't believe that you mean that," exclaimed Durward, Hushing and paling i>v turns. "But I do." Durward look.-d a! the oilier for a moment or two lialf-diized and tonguetied. Then broke out: "If vou do, Mr. Blakeley. your words the other day were the grossest hypo, crisy. You would not give me your con. sent because you pretended not to know whether I was sufficiently—well, honest. And now you yourself propose to do your daughter the rank injustice of foisting upon her a scoundrel, which I should be if I agreed to your terms. For your daughter's sake—l refuse." There was a pause, during 'which the Iwo men looked at one another hard, r.nd then Mr. Blakeley threw himself back in his chair and broke into a loud guffaw. , ' . "You'll do, my boy, you'll do!" he cried, as soon as he could catch bis breath.

Durward took a step forward, unable to master his indignation. "This is hardly a laughing matter, Mr. Blakeley." For answer the financier lifted liis burly, lumbering frame, and, still giving vent to occasional chuckles, strode over to his writing-desk. He sat down, and, to Durward's amazement, took a pen in his left hand and traced a few words on a sheet of paper. "Can you r ead that?" he asked, holding the paper up before Durward.

"Yours faithfully, James Burto.iSmith," met Durward's bewildered gaze, in (he identical writing of that on the confidential letter. Then in a flash the whole mystery grew clear to him, and tie turned away with an exclamation that mingled in it anger and self-disgust. The next instant he felt Mr. Blalfeley s hand on his shoulder.

"I suppose you deduce from this that Mr. Burton-Smith is non-existent, except so far as he is impersonated by me. i i Likewise the platinum mine at Lamsk lis fictitious, ainl there is no necessity for a prospectus," "Then, pray ;- may 1 know the meaning of this hoax, except to make me I look an arrant ass?" erled Durward, turning on his fiercely, "Oh, I worry myself about that, my dear boy. Many a better man than you has been hoaxed by Thomas | Blakeley. and has thought none tin i worse of himself for that. But it you| really want to know (he meaning of] "I do. verv much." | "Well," replied Mr. Blakeley, with, something of a tremor in his voice, "it was just an idea of. mine to put you through your naces, and I can only sa> that you have come off with (lying colors." "I don't understand, sir," said Dur-| ward, a vague hope stirring his heart tumultuous]}-. ' "I wanted to make sure what kind of man it was to whom I was giving my only child. You dou't blame me—Durward ?" "Blame you? Oh, Mr. Blakeley!" The fina'rteier hushed him with an affectionate gesture. < "That'll do. There's nothing you need sav to me just now. .You'd better say it.'all to Evelyn. You'll find her at Cavendish Square. I presume you've no | objection to faking a day off?" —By Samuel flordon, in M.A..P.