REVELATIONS
For two days Anita wandered wraithlike
about the great darkened house. The thought that
Ramon was keeping something from her that
he and her dead father together had kept a secret
which, for some reason, must not be revealed to her,
weighed upon her spirits. Conjectures as to the
unknown intruder on the night of her father’s
death, and his possible purpose, flooded her mind
to the exclusion of all else.
In the dusk of the winter afternoon
she was lying on the couch in her dressing-room, lost
in thought, when Ellen, tapping lightly at the door,
interrupted her reverie.
“The minister, Miss Anita the
Rev. Dr. Franklin he is in the drawing-room.”
“Oh!” Anita gave a little
movement of dismay. “Tell him that I am
suffering from a very severe headache, and gave orders
that I was not to be disturbed by anyone. He
means well, Ellen, of course, but he always depresses
me horribly, lately. I don’t feel like talking
to him this afternoon.”
The maid retired, but returned again
almost immediately with a surprised, half-frightened
expression on her usually stolid face.
“Please, Miss Anita, Dr. Franklin
says he must see you and at once. He seems to
be excited and he won’t take no for an answer.”
“Ramon!” Anita cried,
springing from the couch with swift apprehension.
“Something has happened to Ramon, and Dr. Franklin
has come to tell me. He may be injured, dead!
Ah, God would not do that; He would not take him from
me, too!”
“Don’t take on so, Miss
Anita, dear,” the faithful Ellen murmured, as
she deftly smoothed the girl’s hair and rearranged
her gown; “the little man acts more as if he
had a fine piece of gossip to pass on fidgeting
about like an old woman, he is. Begging your pardon,
Miss, I know he is the minister, of course, and I ought
to show him more respect, but he forever reminds me
of a fat black pigeon.”
The remarks of the privileged old
servant fell upon deaf, unheeding ears. Anita,
sobbing softly beneath her breath, flew down to the
drawing-room, where the pompous black-cloaked figure
rose at her entrance. But was it purely
Anita’s fancy or had some indefinable change
actually taken place in the manner of her spiritual
adviser? The rather close-set eyes seemed to
the girl to gleam somewhat coldly upon her, and although
he took both her hands in his in quick, fatherly greeting,
his hand-clasp appeared all at once to be lacking
in warmth.
“My poor child, my poor Anita!”
he began unctuously, but she interrupted him.
“What is it, Dr. Franklin?
Has something happened to Ramon?” she asked
swiftly. “Please tell me! Now, without
delay! Don’t keep me in suspense.
I can tell by your face, your manner, that a new misfortune
has come to me! Does it concern Ramon?”
“Oh, no; it is not Mr. Hamilton.
You need have no fears for him, Anita. I have
come upon a business matter a matter connected
with your dear father’s estate.”
Anita motioned him to a chair.
Seating herself opposite, she gazed at him inquiringly.
“The settlement of the estate?
Oh, the lawyers are attending to that, I believe.”
Anita spoke a little coldly. Had Dr. Franklin
come already to inquire about a possible legacy for
St. James’?
She was ashamed of the thought the
next moment, when he said gently, “Yes, but
there is something which I must tell you. It has
been requested that I do so. It is a delicate
matter to discuss with you, but surely no one is more
fitted to speak to you than I.”
“Certainly, Doctor, I understand.”
She leaned forward eagerly.
“My dear, you know the whole
country, the whole world at large, has always considered
your father to have been a man of great wealth.”
“Yes. My father’s
charities alone, as you are aware, unostentatiously
as they were conducted, would have tended to give that
impression. Then his tremendous business interests
“Anita, at the moment of your
father’s death he was far from being the King
of Finance, which the world judged him to be.
It is hard for me to tell you this, but you must know,
and you must try to believe that your Heavenly Father
is sending you this added trial for some sure purpose
of His own. Your father died a poor man, Anita.
In fact, a bankrupt.” The girl looked up
with an incredulous smile.
“Dr. Franklin, who could ever
have asked you to come to me with such an incredible
assertion? Surely, you must know how preposterous
the very idea is! I do not boast or brag, but
it is common knowledge that my father was the richest
man in the city, in this entire part of the country,
in fact. The thought of such a thing is absurd.
Who could have attempted to perpetrate such a senseless
hoax, a ridiculous insult to your intelligence and
mine?”
The minister shook his head slowly.
“‘Common knowledge’
is, alas, not always trustworthy. It is only too
true that your father stood on the verge of bankruptcy.
His entire fortune has been swept away.”
“Impossible!”
Anita started from her chair, impressed
in spite of herself. “How could that be?
Who has told you this terrible thing?”
“The unfortunate news was disclosed
to me confidentially by your late father’s truest
friends and closest associates. Having your best
interests at heart, they feel that you should know
the state of affairs at once, and came to me as the
one best fitted to inform you.”
“I cannot believe it!”
Anita Lawton sank back with white, strained face.
“I cannot believe that it is true. How could
such a thing have happened? They must be mistaken those
who gave you such information. Father was worth
millions, at least. That I know, for he told me
much of his business affairs and up to the last day
of his life he was engaged in tremendous deals of
almost national importance.”
“Might he not have become so
deeply involved in one of them that he could not extricate
himself, and ruin came?” Dr. Franklin insinuated.
“I know little of finance, of course; and those
who wished you to know gave me none of the details
beyond the one paramount fact.”
“I know, of course, who were
your informants,” Anita said. “No
one except my father’s three closest associates
had any possible conception of how much he possessed,
even approximately, for he was always secretive and
conservative in his dealings. Only to Mr. Mallowe,
Mr. Rockamore and Mr. Carlis did he ever divulge his
plans to the slightest extent. A bankrupt!
My father a bankrupt? The very words seem meaningless
to me. Dr. Franklin, there must be some hideous
mistake.”
“Unfortunately, it is no mistake,
my poor child. These gentlemen you mention, I
may admit to you in confidence, were my informants.”
“You say they gave you no details
beyond the paramount fact of my father’s ruin?
But surely they must have told you something more.
I have a right to know, Dr. Franklin, and I shall
not rest until I do. How did such a catastrophe
come to him? There have been no gigantic failures
lately, no panics which could have swept him down.
What terrible mistake could he have made, he whose
judgment was almost infallible?”
The minister hesitated visibly, and
when he spoke at last, it was as if with a conscious
effort he chose his words.
“I do not think it was any sudden
collapse of some project in which he was engaged,
Anita, but a a general series of misfortunes
which culminated by forcing him, just before his death,
to the brink of bankruptcy. You are a mere child,
my dear, and could not be supposed to understand matters
of finance. If you will be guided by me you will
accept the assurance of your friends who truly have
your best interests at heart. Their statements
will be confirmed, I know, by the lawyers who are
engaged in settling up the estate of your father.
Do not, I beg of you, inquire too closely into the
details of your father’s insolvency.”
Anita rose slowly, her eyes fixed
upon the face of the minister, and with her hands
resting upon the chair-back, as if to steady herself,
she asked quietly:
“Why should I not? What
is there which I, his daughter, should not know?
Dr. Franklin, there is something behind all this which
you are trying to conceal from me. I knew my
father to be a multi-millionaire. You come and
tell me he was a pauper instead, a bankrupt; and I
am not to ask how this state of affairs came about?
You have known me since I was a little girl surely
you understand me well enough to realize that I shall
not rest under such a condition until the whole truth
is revealed to me!”
“I am your friend.”
The resonance in the minister’s voice deepened.
“You will believe me when I tell you that it
would be best for your future, for the honor of your
father’s memory, to place yourself without question
in the hands of your true friends, and to ask no details
which are not voluntarily given you.”
“‘Best for my future!’”
she repeated, aghast. “’For the honor of
my father’s memory.’ What do you
mean, Dr. Franklin? You have gone too far not
to speak plainly. Do you dare are you
insinuating, that there was something disgraceful,
dishonorable about my father’s insolvency?
You have been my spiritual adviser nearly all my life,
and when you tell me that my father was a bankrupt,
that the knowledge comes to you from his best friends
and will be corroborated by his attorneys, I am forced
to believe you. But if you attempt to convince
me that my father’s honor his good
name is involved, then I tell you that it
is not true! Either a terrible mistake has been
made or a deliberate conspiracy is on foot the
blackest sort of conspiracy, to defame the dead!”
“My dear!” The minister
raised his hands in shocked amazement. “You
are beside yourself, you don’t know what you
are saying! I have repeated to you only that
which was told to me, and in practically the same
words. As to the possibility of a conspiracy,
you will realize the absurdity of such an idea when
I deliver to you the message with which I was charged.
Your father’s partner in many enterprises, the
Honorable Bertie Rockamore, together with President
Mallowe, of the Street Railways, and Mr. Carlis, the
great politician, promised some little time ago that
they would stand in loco parentis toward you
should your natural protector be removed. They
desire me to tell you that you need have no anxiety
for the immediate future. You will be cared for
and provided with all that you have been accustomed
to, just as if your father were alive.”
“Indeed? They are most
kind ” Anita spoke quietly enough,
but with a curiously dry, controlled note in her voice
which reminded the minister of her father’s
tones, and for some inexplicable reason he felt vaguely
uncomfortable. “Please say to them that
I do sincerely appreciate their magnanimity, their
charity, toward one who has no right, legal or moral,
to claim protection or care from them. But now,
Dr. Franklin, may I beg that you will forgive me if
I retire? The news you have brought me of course
has been a terrible shock. I must have time to
collect my thoughts, to realize the sudden, terrible
change this revelation has made in my whole life.
I am deeply grateful to you, to my father’s
three associates, but I can say no more now.”
“Of course, dear child.”
Dr. Franklin patted her hand perfunctorily and arose
with ill-concealed relief that the interview was at
an end. He could not understand her attitude
of the last few moments and it troubled him vaguely.
She had received the news of her father’s bankruptcy
with a girlish horror and incredulousness which
had been only natural under the circumstances; but
when it was borne in upon her, in as delicate a way
as he could convey it, that dishonor was involved
in the matter, she had, after the first outburst, maintained
a stony, ashen self-poise and control that were far
from what he had expected. It was the most disagreeable
task he had performed in many a day and he was heartily
glad that it was over. Only his very great desire
to ingratiate himself with these kings of finance,
who had commissioned him to do their bidding, as well
as the inclination to be of real service to his young
and orphaned parishioner, had induced him to undertake
the mission.
“You must rest and have an opportunity
to adjust yourself to this new, unfortunate state
of affairs,” he continued. “I will
call again to-morrow. If I can be of the slightest
service to you, do not hesitate to let me know.
It is a sad trial, but our Heavenly Father has tempered
the wind to the shorn lamb; He has provided you with
a protector in young Mr. Hamilton, and with kind,
true friends who will see that no harm or deprivation
comes to you. Try to feel that this added grief
and trouble will, in the end, be for the best.”
The alacrity with which he took his
departure was painfully obvious, but Anita scarcely
noticed it. Her mind was busy with the new, hideous
thought, which had assailed her at that first hint
of dishonesty on the part of her father the
thought that she was being made the victim of a gigantic
conspiracy.
As soon as she found herself alone,
she flew to the telephone. “Main, 2785,”
she demanded.... “Mr. Hamilton, please....
Is that you, Ramon?... Can you come to me at
once? I need your advice and help. Something
has happened something terrible! No,
I cannot tell you over the ’phone. You
will come at once? Yes, good-by, Ramon dear.”
She hung up the receiver and paced
the floor restlessly. Almost inconceivable as
it had appeared to her consciousness under the first
shock of the announcement, she might in time have come
to accept the astounding fact of her father’s
insolvency, but that disgrace, dishonor, could have
attached itself to his name that he, the
model of uprightness, of integrity could have been
guilty of crooked dealing, of something which must
for the honor of his memory be kept secret from the
ears of his fellow-men, she could never bring herself
to believe. Every instinct of her nature revolted,
and underlying all her girlish unsophistication, a
native shrewdness, inherited perhaps from her father,
bade her distrust alike the worldly, self-interested
pastor of the Church of St. James and the three so-called
friends, who, although her father’s associates,
had been his rivals, and who had offered with such
astounding magnanimity to stand by her.
Why had they offered to help her?
Was it really through tenderness and affection for
her father’s daughter, or was it to stay her
hand and close her mouth to all queries?
Why did not Ramon come? Surely
he should have been there before this. What could
be detaining him? She tried to be patient, to
calm her seething brain while she waited, but it was
no use. Hours passed while she paced the floor,
restlessly, and the dusk settled into the darkness
of early winter. Wilkes came to turn on the lights,
but she refused them she could think better
in the dark. The dinner-hour came and went and
twice Ellen knocked anxiously upon the door, but Anita,
torn with anxiety, would pay no heed. She had
telephoned to Ramon’s office, only to find that
he had left there immediately upon receiving her message;
to his home he had not returned.
Nine o’clock sounded in silvery
chimes from the clock upon the mantel; then ten and
eleven and at length, just when she felt that she could
endure no more, the front door-bell rang. A well-known
step sounded upon the stairs, and Ramon entered.
With a little gasp of joy and relief
she flung herself upon him in the darkness, but at
an involuntary groan from him she recoiled.
“What is it, Ramon? What has happened to
you?”
Without waiting for a reply she switched on the light.
Ramon stood before her, his face pale,
his eyes dark with pain. One arm was in a sling
and the thick hair upon his forehead barely concealed
a long strip of plaster.
“Nothing really serious, dear.
I had a slight accident run down by a motor-car,
just after leaving the office. My head was cut
and I was rather knocked out, so they took me to a
hospital. I would have come before, but they
would not allow me to leave. I knew that you would
be anxious because of my delay in coming, but I feared
to add to your apprehension by telephoning to you
from the hospital.”
“But your arm is it sprained?”
“Broken. I had a nasty
crash can’t imagine how it was that
I didn’t see the car coming in time to avoid
it. It was a big limousine with several men inside,
all singing and shouting riotously, and the chauffeur,
I think, must have been drunk, for he swerved the car
directly across the road in my path. They never
stopped after they had bowled me over, and no one
seemed to know where they went.”
“Then the police did not get their number?”
“No, but they will, of course.
Not that I care, particularly; I’m lucky to
have got off as lightly as I did. I might have
been killed.”
“It was a miracle that you were
not, Ramon. Do you know what I believe?
I don’t think it was any accident, but a deliberate
attempt to assassinate you; to keep you from coming
to me.”
“What nonsense, dear! They
were a wild, hilarious party, careless and irresponsible.
Such accidents happen every day.”
“I am convinced that it was
no accident. Ramon, I feel that I am to be the
victim of a conspiracy; that you are the only human
being who stands in the way of my being absolutely
in the power of those who would defraud me and defame
father’s name.”
“Anita, what do you mean?”
“Dr. Franklin called upon me
this afternoon; he left just before I telephoned to
you. He told me an astonishing piece of news.
Ramon, would you have considered my father a rich
man?”
“What an absurd question, dear!
Of course. One of the richest men in the whole
country, as you know.”
“You say that he consulted you
about his business affairs, and that you knew of no
trouble or difficulty which could have caused him
anxiety? His securities in stocks and bonds, his
assets were all sound?”
“Certainly. What do you mean?”
“I mean that my father died
a pauper! That on the word of Mr. Rockamore,
Mr. Mallowe, Mr. Carlis and Dr. Franklin, he was on
the verge of dishonorable bankruptcy, into which I
may not inquire.”
“Good Heavens, they must be
mad! I am sure that your father was at the zenith
of his successful career, and as for dishonor, surely,
Anita, no one who knew him could credit that!”
“Mr. Rockamore and the other
two who were so closely associated with him made a
solemn promise to my father shortly before his death,
it seems, that they would care for and provide for
me. They sent Dr. Franklin to me this afternoon
to explain the circumstances to me, and to assure
me of their protection. Save for you, they consider
me absolutely in their hands; and when I sent for
you, you were almost killed in the attempt to come
to me. Ramon, don’t you see, don’t
you understand, there is some mystery on foot, some
terrible conspiracy? That unknown visitor, my
father’s death so soon after, and now this sudden
revelation of his bankruptcy, together with this accident
to you? Ramon, we must have advice and help.
I do not believe that my father was a pauper.
I know that he has done nothing dishonorable; I am
convinced that the accident to you was a premeditated
attempt at murder.”
“My God! I can’t
believe it, Anita; I don’t know what to think.
If it turns out that there really is something crooked
about it all, and Rockamore and the others are concerned
in it, it will be the biggest conspiracy that was
ever hatched in the world of high finance. You
were right, dear, bless your woman’s intuition;
we must have help. This matter must be thoroughly
investigated. There is only one man in America
to-day, who is capable of carrying it through, successfully.
I shall send at once for the Master Mind.”
“The Master Mind?”
“Yes, dear Henry
Blaine, the most eminent detective the English-speaking
world has produced.”
“I have heard of him, of course.
I think father knew him, did he not?”
“Yes, on one occasion he was
of inestimable service to your father. I will
summon him at once.”
Ramon went to the telephone and by
good luck found the detective free for the moment
and at his service.
He returned to the girl. She
noticed that he reeled slightly in his walk; that
his lips were white and set with pain.
“Ramon, you are ill, suffering.
That cut on your head and your poor arm
“It is nothing. I don’t
mind, Anita darling; it will soon pass. Thank
Heavens, I found Mr. Blaine free. He will get
to the truth of this matter for us even if no one
else on earth could. He has brought more notorious
malefactors to justice than any detective of modern
times; fearlessly, he has unearthed political scandals
which lay dangerously close to the highest executives
of the land. He cannot be cajoled, bribed or
intimidated; you will be safe in his hands from the
machinations of every scoundrel who ever lived.”
“I have read of some of his
marvelous exploits, but; what service was it that
he rendered to my father?”
“I I cannot tell
you, dearest. It was very long ago, and a matter
which affected your father solely. Perhaps some
time you may learn the truth of it.”
“I may not know! I may
not know! Why must I be so hedged in? Why
must everything be kept from me? I feel as if
I were living in a maze of mystery. I must know
the truth.”
She wrung her hands hysterically,
but he soothed her and they talked in low tones until
Wilkes suddenly appeared in the doorway and announced:
“Mr. Henry Blaine!”