The Substitute Millionaire Page #5

Jack Norman had no idea he was Silas Gyde's sole heir—until the multimillionaire was killed by an anarchist's bomb and Jack found himself the richest man in New York. The inheritance included a warning from his benefactor about an elaborate protection scheme promising to protect the wealthy from anarchists, in which Gyde had declined to enroll. Recognizing his own danger, Jack enlists a out-of-work actor to take on his own identity, while he, in the guise of Jack Norman's secretary, works furiously behind the scenes to break up the gang and unmask their leader, the mysterious Mr. B.

• Fiction
• Mystery

								


"Oh, that's only a joke," he said quickly.  "Lord knows the poverty was real enough--but it's over for good!"  "For both of us," he would have liked to add, but did not quite dare.  "Look!" he cried, drawing his hand out of his pocket with the great roll of yellow-backed bills.  "My income for half an hour!"

"Where did you get it?" she said aghast

He laughed again.  "Honest, I didn't steal it."

"Please!"

He told her at last.  The story sounded strange in his own ears.  When he came to the end he saw to his astonishment that there were tears in her eyes.

"Why--why, what's the matter?" he cried.

"I don't know," she said smiling through the rain.  "Am I not silly? But I suppose it means change.  And I hate changes!"

"A change for the better, only.  If you knew how I hated poverty!"

Her eyes dropped.  "I, too," that meant, but she did not care to tell him so, audibly.

"If you knew how mean I felt every day when we went to that beanery together, and you had to pay for your own lunch!"

"But what was the difference?  We both work for our living."

"A man feels differently.  Why I never would ask you if I could come to see you in the evenings, because I couldn't take you out anywhere.  I was afraid I couldn't keep my end up with your gang."

"I haven't any gang," she murmured.

"Well all that's ended now!  Now there's no limit but the sky!  And here we are.  The lawyer guy told me this was the swellest place down-town."

A fresh panic seized her.  "I can't eat in a place like this!  I'm not fit to be seen!"

"Nonsense!  You always look like a lady!"

Circumstances were too strong for her.  She found herself being wafted across the sidewalk, and was delivered into the hands of the maid in the lobby, before she could think of an effective resistance.  Indeed they were seated at a snowy little board brightened by an electric candle, before she really got her breath.  At Jack's elbow stood a post-graduate waiter with a deferential bend in his back, and at just the right distance an orchestra was discussing the Meditation from Thaïs.

A sigh escaped Kate, for after all she was a perfectly human girl. "Oh, this is heavenly!"

Jack's eyes sparkled.  "Good!  I was wondering when you'd begin to let yourself go."  He leaned forward.  "You should worry!  You're the prettiest girl here--and the best dressed!"

Which was true--on both counts.  There was no doubt about her prettiness; Heaven had attended to that.  Eyes of the deepest blue with a glance steady and deep; an adorable little nose, and a mouth at once firm and most kissable.  As for her clothes, it may be they were of cheap materials, but the taste that had chosen redeemed them.  The hat, most important item, was of Kate's own manufacture, being copied from the window of a milliner whose name is a household word.

"Don't be silly," said the wearer severely.  "The waiter is waiting."

"That's what he's here for!  Oh, dear!  I wish we could stay all afternoon!"

This was put forth really as a proposal rather than a wish.  But Kate was relentless.

"We'll have to hurry," she said firmly.

"Well, we've time for a cup of green turtle, a lobster paté and a coupe St. Jacques," said Jack.  A whispered order was added, and one of the yellow backs changed hands.  The waiter departed.

"One would think you had been coming here all your life," said Kate demurely.

This was delicious flattery.  "I've planned it in dreams," he said.

Presently the waiter returned, smiling from ear to ear, and bearing a bunch of violets almost as big as a cart wheel.  Their delicious fragrance filled all the air.  With a flourish he placed them before Kate.

She gasped.  "Oh!  How wonderful!  For me!"

"Who do you think?" said Jack.

"But--but what shall I do with them?"

"Put them on.  Any woman can wear violets without hurting."

"But what will they think when I get back to the office."

"The worst!" said Jack solemnly.

"Oh, Mr. Norman!"

"Why go back to the office?" asked Jack very offhand.

"Oh, Mr. Norman!" she said again, with a scandalized air.

"My name is Jack," he said unabashed.

She made believe not to hear.

"I can't bear to think of you working even for a day longer in that stuffy hole!  Why, my first thought when I heard the news was I can take her out of that!  What fun will it be for me to fluff around town spending money when you are still jailed there, punishing the alphabet."

"What do you mean?" she said, trying to look indignant.

"You know what I mean.  Or if you don't, look at me and you'll see!"

She did not avail herself of the invitation.  "You don't seem to have thought much of me.  What I might like.  Am I nothing to you, but a sort of little follower, a hanger-on to help you spend money!"

"Oh, Katy, that's unjust.  Look at me!  Katy darling, I love you.  Will you marry me?"

"Somebody will hear you," she murmured glancing nervously around.

"That's no answer."

"Why--I scarcely know you!"

"Time will fix that."

"You're not in earnest."

"I am!  Look at me!  I know you well!  For months I have thought of you night and day.  Oh, I tried to cut you out at first; I thought I was only storing up trouble for myself.  Poor devil of a stool-warmer like me.  What chance did I have?  But I couldn't help myself!  Every time I saw your face at the window I forgot my hard-headed resolutions.  You see you had me at a disadvantage.  I had an ideal of what a lady was, that I got from my mother--but knocking round in cheap boarding houses, well you don't meet that kind.  It was just plumb luck my meeting you. First time I heard your voice you just knocked me out.  That was what I had wanted--all my life.  Look at me!  Don't you think I'm in earnest now?"

"Please, not here!" she murmured.

He suddenly realized that a girl is entitled to a certain degree of privacy in receiving a proposal.  "Oh!  I clean forgot where we were!" he said contritely.  "I'm sorry.  The two things are so mixed up in my mind, I felt I couldn't tell you quick enough."

A silence fell between them.  He studied her face wistfully, but could read nothing in the closed lips and downcast eyes.

"Katy, dear, can't you give me one word to go on?"

She shook her head.

"Nothing definite, Katy--but just a hint I can't stand the suspense."

She murmured softly: "My answer is no."

"Oh, Katy!" he said brokenly.  "Sometimes I thought you looked at me as if--my mistake, I suppose.  Don't you like me, Katy?"

"One doesn't marry on liking.  I used to like you as a poor boy; But money changes people's characters.  I'll have to wait and see."

4

Having left Kate at the office to which she most unreasonably insisted on returning, Jack bethought himself of the charge laid upon him to visit Silas Gyde's rooms alone.  Kate's last words had not been too discouraging, and there was a pleasant suggestion of mystery in this new errand.  Jack's spirits were good.

Another taxi-cab whirled him up-town to the Madagascar.  Even now, occasionally the feeling came over him that he was living in a dream. He fingered the roll of bills in his pocket for reassurance.
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