There was a moment’s pause. “And
by the way,” Bates added, “the Oil Trust
has made another haul! The Electric Manufacturing
Company is in trouble—that’s a rival
of one of their enterprises! Doesn’t it
all fit together beautifully?”
Montague thought for a moment or two. “This
is rather important news to me,” he said; “I’ve
got money in the Trust Company of the Republic.
Do you suppose they are going to let it go down?”
“I talked it over with Rodney,” the other
replied. “He says Waterman was quite explicit
in his promises to see Prentice through. And
there’s one thing you can say about old Dan—for
all his villainies, he never breaks his word.
So I imagine he’ll save it.”
“But then, why give out this report?”
exclaimed the lawyer.
“Don’t you see?” said Bates.
“He wants a chance to save it.”
Montague’s jaw fell. “Oh!”
he said.
“It’s as plain as the nose on your face,”
said Bates. “That story will come out to-morrow
morning, and everybody will say it was the blunder
of a newspaper reporter; and then Waterman will come
forward and do the rescue act. It’ll be
just like a play.”
“It’s taking a long chance,” said
Montague, and added, “I had thought of telling
Prentice, who’s an intimate friend of mine; but
I don’t suppose it will do him any good.”
“Poor old Prentice can’t help himself,”
was the reply. “All you can do is to make
him lose a night’s sleep.”
Montague went out, with a new set of problems to ponder.
As he went home, he passed the magnificent building
of the Gotham Trust Company, where there stood a long
line of people who had prepared to spend the night.
All the afternoon a frantic mob had besieged the doors,
and millions of dollars had been withdrawn in a few
hours. Montague knew that by the time he got
down town the next morning there would be another
such mob in front of the Trust Company of the Republic;
but he was determined to stand by his own resolve.
However, he had sent a telegram to Oliver, warning
him to return at once.
He went home and found there another letter from Lucy
Dupree.
“Dear Allan,” she wrote. “No
doubt you have heard the news that Ryder has been
forced out of the Gotham Trust. But I have accomplished
part of my purpose—Waterman has promised
that he will put him on his feet again after this
trouble is over. In the meantime, I am told to
go away. This is for the best; you will remember
that you yourself urged me to go. Ryder cannot
see me, because the newspaper reporters are following
him so closely.
“I beg of you not to try to find me. I
am hateful in my own sight, and you will never see
me again. There is one last thing that you can
do for me. Go to Stanley Ryder and offer him your
help—I mean your advice in straightening
out his affairs. He has no friends now, and he
is in a desperate plight. Do this for me.
Lucy.”
