Page:Harper's New Monthly Magazine - v109.djvu/623

Rh the time of his death, to convey to you my condolences. I was very sorry."

Mrs. Buxton, feeling easier in her mind, and so full of her own affairs as to fail to be grateful for the Colonel's belated sympathy, went on:

"I couldn't make up my mind as to what to do with my stock, so I have come all the way from Indianapolis to ask your advice. From all I had heard and read about you I felt sure you would give it to me. The stock is all I have in the world, to keep in trust for my little boy. That is why I take the liberty to ask you." Her eyes were fixed unblinkingly on the Colonel's face. She did not fear responsibility. Her boy's future comforts depended upon her and upon the Colonel's answer.

The Colonel bowed gracefully, and said: "Mrs. Buxton, I feel profoundly touched and honored by your confidence, believe me. And I am glad to be in a position to give you not only friendly and disinterested advice, but sound advice as well."

"I knew you would. I told my friends so," Mrs. Buxton couldn't help saying. At the same time she was made uneasy by his politeness. His smiles did not soothe. What was wrong she did not know, but there was something. Perhaps it was the eyes or the way the smile made his nostrils expand that gave him a foxy look.

"I advise you," he said, very impressively, "by all means to convert your stock into the new three-and-a-half per cent. bonds at once. I have done so with the 10,000 shares I had. Mr. Stuyvesant and his family have done the same with every share they owned. We are in a position to know what is best to do. By all means, madam, convert your stock."

She felt he was thinking of himself and Mr. Stuyvesant and not of Mrs. Geraldine Buxton. His nose, she noticed, was curved like a hawk's bill. She hated hawks. She used to keep bantams as a girl in the country.

"Thank you, Colonel Channing. It is very good of you," said Mrs. Buxton, rising to go. She was disappointed, but she did not show it.

"I beg you not to mention it, Mrs. Buxton. Command me at any time. My advice is at your disposal always, for my old friend Buxton's sake and for your own. By all means convert your stock," and he bowed her out ceremoniously. His voice rang in her ears human, and yet artificial and unconvincing as a phonograph. It was a curious combination, and increased her uneasiness.

Mitchell waited for Mrs. Buxton. He was anxious for the "tip" she would bring back. But he waited for her and it in vain. Mrs. Buxton indulged in some shopping—the stores were fascinating and supplied her with endless conversational topics, and she had enough to occupy her mind in New York without bothering about stocks or bankers or returning to brokers' offices. She took the train for Indianapolis the next evening. He did not see her again in nearly two years.

It was a curious coincidence that John D. Mitchell should receive a letter from Mrs. Buxton, eighteen months later, telling him not to send her the check for the usual quarterly dividend, on the very same day that Lakeside stock sold at 380. The bond plan had gone through very successfully. The entire capital stock, with the exception of a few thousands of shares, had been duly converted into three-and-a-half per cent. bonds and reposed safely in the Great Midland treasury. The Midland management was extremely anxious to secure absolutely all the outstanding stock. Once in its possession, the Lakeside surplus in cash and securities of other roads, amounting to many millions, would be distributed among the stockholders—that is, literally emptied into the Great Midland's hungry treasury, since there would be but one stockholder. The Midland needed it. For that reason the Midland was trying to buy in the open market the last remaining shares of Lakeside. Their value was exceedingly great for those especial reasons, and the price had thus risen out of proportion to the intrinsic worth.

Mrs. Buxton herself called on Mr. Mitchell a fortnight later.

"I didn't want you to send me the Lakeside check, because I'm going to Europe to-morrow to be gone three months. My boy stays with his grandmother."

"We will have it all ready for you, Mrs. Buxton. Would you prefer it in cash?"