Mummers in Mufti/Chapter 21

HE Pilgrim Trust Co. was the last business house in the East to install glass-topped desks in its private offices, but, when they were installed, its sheets of glass were heavier, more redoubtable, than those on any other desks in the universe. The sheet of glass on the desk of Judge Marker, the chief attorney and trust officer could have been used as the base of a Doric temple. It must have been more than an inch in thickness and was beveled in a manner that would have won the heart of Leonardo da Vinci. "I am as transparent to all men as the heavens above," that glass seemed to say, "but yet as profound as the depthless oceans.'

In the exact center of this sheet of glass, on a Tuesday morning, lay a single object, a check for forty-five thousand dollars, a simple thing, so flat and clinging, as it lay there, as to seem a part of the glass itself, yet, at the same time, brought by the glass into high relief, a perfect focus for the eye from every part of the room. Behind the desk, but more essentially behind the check, sat Judge Marker himself with his clipped gray beard and his heavy gray tweeds, very much a small and indignant replica of the late King Edward.

This was the setting into which came Arnold Bellsmith and Herman Israels between eleven and twelve o'clock by appointment.

"Good morning, judge," greeted Bellsmith. He was not unaware of the check on the desk. One could n't be. He was not unaware of a guarded hostility in the attitude of Judge Marker, but he advanced into the room with a heartiness which was not at all feigned. Timid as he might be in the face of many things, he had never been timid in the face of the Pilgrim Trust Co. There were certain phases in which almost any one would have liked to be Bellsmith.

"Judge," he began, "I have a little transaction somewhat out of the ordinary."

He turned to introduce his companion. "Judge Marker, this is Mr. Israels."

The judge looked up at the swarthy manager with a cold suspicion that he made no attempt to conceal, but his diffidence had no effect whatsoever on Israels. Israels had made his way in the face of cold suspicion since his first day in the theatrical business.

"Pleased to meet you, judge," he said, heartily enough.

Bellsmith looked suggestively toward a row of chairs ranged along the wall, but Judge Marker gave no invitation and it remained for Bellsmith himself to act as surrogate host and bring a chair in each hand.

"Judge," began Bellsmith, as he sat down, his nonchalance, it must be confessed, beginning to waver a little under this frigid reception, "this is only a matter which will take you a minute or two. All I wish is to have you draw up a simple agreement or bill of sale between me and the firm of Harcourt & Gay of—of—"

"Harcourt Theater Building, New York City," snapped Israels, promptly.

The judge looked at the speaker with a gesture of irritation. He placed his palms solidly against the edge of his desk as if he feared that, subconsciously, even his own hands might play him some trick and that he had better keep them where he could watch them.

"An agreement for what?" he demanded.

"An agreement," explained Bellsmith, "transferring from the firm of Harcourt & Gay to me the entire rights and property, beginning at midnight last night, of the musical comedy named 'Eleanor.'"

The judge did not move a muscle.

"My dear Mr. Bellsmith," he said very quietly, "I think that you had better explain somewhat further."

Bellsmith smiled. "I beg your pardon. Perhaps I should. I purchased, last evening, the entire rights and property of the play which is now being performed at the Lyceum Theater. Perhaps you have seen it? Mr. Israels represents the owners. I wish you to draw up an agreement which will make the thing binding."

The judge reached forth both hands to the check and stroked it slowly down on the glass, as if to make it more fully than ever an integral part of the Pilgrim Trust Co.

"Then that," he remarked with a deadly calm, "is, I presume, the explanation of this check, which was presented here by the Second National Bank for collection this morning."

"Exactly," replied Bellsmith. "It was given last night."

The judge turned to Israels. "This check was offered to the Second National Bank in payment for a New York draft three minutes after the bank opened this morning. It appears, sir, that you did n't intend to lose much time." Israels shrugged. "It's not good business to let money lie idle."

Bellsmith, however, had no intention of changing allegiance. "That check was given in perfect good faith, Judge Marker. Would it not be best if you would draw up the agreement?"

The judge abruptly shoved himself away from his desk, as if that act in itself broke off a circuit and put the whole Pilgrim Trust Co. out of the matter altogether.

"I shall do nothing so ridiculous."

"Very well, judge," said Bellsmith. "I am sorry, but, if you will not draw up this agreement, it will be necessary for me to consult a private attorney. But I naturally thought that you would like to know what went into it."

The judge eased back to his desk, and again his hand began to stroke the small sheet of paper.

"Now, Mr. Bellsmith," he reasoned, "what is this folly, anyway? Do you realize what you are doing?"

"Perfectly," said Bellsmith. "If I wish to invest some money in the theatrical business is there any reason why I should not do so?"

"Yes, I think there is," answered the judge, calmly. "Do you know the first thing about it?"

"As much as I do about any other business," replied Bellsmith. "Harcourt & Gay, as you could easily find out, is a responsible firm, one of the leading theatrical firms in the country. If I should invest this same amount in bonds or real estate would there be any question about it?"

The judge smiled faintly. "If you did it at midnight with parties unknown to us and if the check were presented at a bank window about three minutes after the banks of the city opened, I think that there certainly would be a question about it."

The judge smoothed the check to its full length and looked at it thoughtfully "Just how did you intend to pay this check, Mr. Bellsmith?"

"My check has never been questioned for any amount," replied Bellsmith.

"Because there has never been any occasion to do so," commented the judge. "You don't think that you have forty-five thousand dollars in cash in the Pilgrim Trust Co., do you?"

"I don't know how much I have got," replied Bellsmith, "but I certainly do know that I have securities on deposit here which would warrant your honoring my check for several times that amount."

"Well, it won't be honored," replied the judge, suddenly and emphatically. "I can tell you that now. Neither I nor the Pilgrim Trust Co. will be a party to any such folly. We all of us think too much of you to allow you to take such an idiotic step."

"I am very sorry," insisted Bellsmith, "but my check has been drawn and given in good faith, and my check will be honored. Furthermore, it will be honored before noon at the Pilgrim Trust Co."

"But how can it be," asked the judge, "if the money is n't there?"

"I can deposit the money to cover it."

"But, I ask you, where will you get the money?"

"If necessary I can instruct you to sell some securities outright," replied Bellsmith.

"We simply won't do it."

"Very well, then, I shall have to withdraw them myself and pledge them at another bank or sell them through a broker."

The judge laughed mirthlessly and a little impatiently "Now, Mr. Bellsmith, we can't allow you to take any such action as that."

"But how can you stop me?" demanded Bellsmith blandly. The judge was silent. He could n't stop him, and he knew that he could n't; but he had not been at all sure that Bellsmith knew it. For three generations a word from the Pilgrim Trust to the Bellsmith family had been as a friendly mandate from a friendly bench.

"Besides," added Bellsmith quietly, "you know that I have other property—real estate for example."

"Real estate?" echoed Judge Marker in horror.

Bellsmith nodded. "Any bank in the city would lend me any amount on the various properties."

"Mr. Bellsmith!" pleaded the judge, now shocked to the depths of his being. In Leicester there was something even more sacred about real estate than about any other form of property.

"You don't mean to say," almost begged the judge, "that you would go so far as to mortgage that real estate which has stood clear in your family for generations?"

"I should certainly not like to," admitted Bellsmith, "but you must remember that it is also several generations since any check of the Bellsmith family has been refused by the Pilgrim Trust Co."

The judge sat hot and despondent. Like Dr. MacVickar and like Margaret, he had just begun to realize that at the most unexpected moments this childlike young man could be most damnably definite. He shifted to another and, as he thought, a wiser tack.

"Mr. Bellsmith," he said, almost gently, "I am sure that you understand that I am acting purely for your own interests, and I absolutely must refuse to let you take such a foolish step. You simply must not allow that check to be presented for payment. The matter could be arranged very simply with the officers of the Second National. They have not yet sent it through the clearing-house." He turned, almost appealingly, to Israels. "I am sure that this—this gentleman will understand that you were carried away by your enthusiasm and, when he learns how your friends feel about it, he will see things from our point of view. Of course, any slight forfeit that he might feel would compensate him—"

Quickly as lightning Israels snapped out. "We 're not black-mailers, judge. If you want to find out anything about Harcourt & Gay just telephone right now to any bank in New York City. I guess that you don't happen to know that Harcourt & Gay do a bigger annual business than any client you 've got in your whole trust company."

Judge Marker saw that he had made a false move, but neither was he particularly impressed. He raised his hand.

"Now, my good young man. I understand that, I understand that, but equally Mr. Bellsmith's family have been our clients for a great many years, and it is not our intention that his good nature and lack of experience—"

It was the very worst tack that he could have taken, and Bellsmith himself stopped him abruptly.

"Judge, I understand perfectly that you are acting for my best interests, but my mind is absolutely made up. I have purchased this—this property, and I intend to complete the purchase. If you really wish to assist me, you can draw the agreement properly and in order."

For a long, long minute the judge sat in exasperated silence. Then abruptly he punched a bell under the edge of his desk, and a highly decorous young man appeared from an adjoining room. The judge slowly peeled the check from the glass. One was really surprised to see that it came off so easily. He handed it to the clerk and spoke very gruffly, for there was at least one person at whom he could still be angry.

"Take this down to Mr. Carruthers," he ordered, "and tell them it's got to go through."

As the young man left the room a faint smile passed over the face of Israels. Luckily, however, the judge did not see it. With an air of bitter resignation he drew a sheet of paper from a drawer and took up a pen. He turned to Bellsmith as if the latter had just entered the office.

"Very well, then," he said. "Now what is it you want to do?"

As Israels and Bellsmith together walked out of the building, Israels at least was in very high spirits.

"Good boy!" he applauded. "don't let them bluff you. If the money's yours he can't touch you."

"I know that he can't," replied Bellsmith, "but he can make things disagreeable. Then a certain pang of remorse, a certain touch of the old Bellsmith, began to creep over him. "But after all he's such a decent old chap! I really did hate to upset him. It has been years, I know, since anybody has disagreed with him."

After lunch they returned to sign the agreement, accompanied by another lawyer whom Israels had dug up with the perfect genius of his kind for selecting exactly that member of the Leicester County bar who would be most objectionable to Judge Marker.

Certain changes were suggested by Israels and certain ones by Judge Marker. Two copies were made and signed and witnessed by the decorous clerk from the ad- joining room.

"Well, that's that!" said Bellsmith when they again reached the street.

Israels looked at his watch. "I think I 'll go back to the hotel and telephone Harcourt & Gay." Then suddenly a funny look came over his face. "I suppose I'm not working for them any more. I'm working for you, Mr. Bellsmith."

Bellsmith smiled, but it was very wanly. He felt exceedingly tired. He remembered dully his daily engagement with Dr. MacVickar and telephoned for a reprieve, but Dr. MacVickar had been called away from his office on an urgent case. Glad enough to have it so, Bellsmith went home, took off his coat and shoes, and lay down on his bed for an hour, while the winter sun danced through the drawn shades, and the traffic of Leicester rumbled along, outside on the Main Street asphalt.

He must have fallen asleep for suddenly in a vague, jumpy start he was aware of the telephone at his bedside ringing shrilly.

"Hello! This is Israels talking. Mr. Bellsmith, here's a fine kettle of fish. Tilly Marshall has broke down completely, and that doctor of yours has sent her off to some hospital in the country. I just got word when I got back. What are we going to do? Shall we put Poppy Vaughan on to-night?"

"All right," said Bellsmith, rolling off the bed and upon his feet. "I 'll come down right now. Where are you? At the Stansfield?"

He put on his coat and shoes, feeling very rumpled and unclean, and hurried on down to the lower hall. He called to William, who was hovering in the dining-room:

"William, I 've got a sudden call down town. I won't be home to dinner and probably not before midnight."

But William, instead of his usual "Very good, sir," came rustling out with his queer comic air of shocked amazement.

"Mr. Bellsmith," he whispered, "there's a man waiting to see you in the reception-room. I was n't going to call you until you waked up. I think—I think 'e's some kind of a bailiff."

As Bellsmith turned into the little reception-room a stranger rose to meet him, an odd little man with a huge mustache and an abnormal watch-chain.

"Mr. Bellsmith?" he asked briskly, and as Bellsmith nodded he handed him some folded papers.

"I'm Deputy Sheriff MacDonald," he said. "I serve you this order of the probate court in an action instituted by the Pilgrim Trust Co."

Uncertainly Bellsmith took the papers. "Well, what do I do with these?" he asked. "Do I have to go to jail with you or something?"

The man laughed. "Oh, no, it's not as bad as that, sir. You just have to accept the service, and you 've done that already."

"Have I?" asked Bellsmith vaguely.

As soon as the officer had gone he opened the papers and found a special injunction prohibiting him from withdrawing, concealing, hypothecating, transferring, or otherwise diminishing any such property or properties, real or personal, as lay within the jurisdiction of the court pending an action instituted against him by the Pilgrim Trust Co., as interested party. The action, he further learned, was for the appointment of a "committee of person and estate."

Committee of person and estate. That did n't sound so formidable, but what did it mean? Bellsmith sought out the big dictionary in the library.

"Committee of person," he read, "See 'conservator.'"

"Just as you say," mused Bellsmith to the big book, and so he looked up "Conservator."

He found it.

'''"Conservator. A person appointed by a court of law to superintend idiots, lunatics and others who are temporarily or permanently irresponsible, to manage their property for them and to protect it from wastage or design." '''