The Come-On/Chapter 9

From Wikisource
Jump to navigation Jump to search
2319927The Come-On — Chapter 9A. M. Chisholm


IX.

MORTIMER stepped off the train at Galena City with the air of a conqueror. He had one hundred thousand shares of Silver Queen safely tucked in his inside pocket; and, as these shares had been purchased at twenty cents and were as good as sold at fifty, they represented a profit of thirty thousand dollars. It was almost incredible, but he had the written promise of Colonel Jefferson Casimir, capitalist, to pay fifty cents per share. This, he reflected, was the way fortunes were made. Instead of drudging along on a salary and investing his money in farm mortgages at a beggarly five per cent. he had struck boldly for the West and jumped into the game, with the result that he had made more money in a fortnight than the staid business men of Ardendale had made in their lives Small wonder that he trod on air as he made his way to the Palace.

He inquired for Collingwood. Having turned the trick, he wished to tell somebody about it, and he had anticipated pleasurably that gentleman's surprise and secretly envious congratulations.

"Mr. Collingwood left this afternoon," he was told.

Mortimer was surprised. Collingwood had said he would be about Galena for a month, at least.

"Do you know which way he went?" he asked. "Did he leave any message for me?"

There was no message and no information. Not having any one to share his triumph Mortimer dined lonesomely, albeit as expensively as possible. He would have liked some form of celebration, but failing that he devoted an hour after dinner to a letter to Maisie. Lacking a present friend to listen, he spread the tale of his success over many sheets of paper, with much detail. And then, leaving the letter unfinished, he went to find Colonel Casimir.

Mortimer looked through the crowded rotunda of the Commercial, but nowhere could he see the broad shoulders, soft black hat. and benevolent face of the capitalist.

"Out somewhere," he soliloquized, and asked at the desk.

"Colonel Casimir left to-day," was the reply.

Mortimer's face expressed his consternation. But he reflected that the colonel had a perfect right to leave Galena. Only, it was peculiar that he had not mentioned the possibility.

"Any letter tor me?" he asked. "My name is Mortimer."

"Nothing."

Mortimer sat down. It came to him suddenly that he did not know the colonel's business address or a thing about him other than the information he had received from Collingwood. Nor did he know a thing about Collingwood beyond what he had been told by the colonel. A glance at the register showed that the latter had registered from Louisville. It so happened that Mortimer knew a man there, and to him he wired asking for information as to the business standing of Colonel Casimir. Meantime he made such inquiries as he could, but ascertained nothing.

He could not receive an answer to his telegram before morning, and he spent the night the prey of a hundred horrible doubts. He read over his letter to Maisie. The cheerfully light phrases seemed to mock him. His appreciation of his own boldness and business sagacity in seizing a situation and using it in such a way as to more than double his money, seemed ghastly in its folly. And in the morning a wire from Louisville appeared to confirm his apprehensions. It read:

Casimir unknown here in financial circles.

Mortimer, at his wits' end, spent the morning hoping against hope for a telegram from either Collingwood or Casimir. In the afternoon it occurred to him for the first time to make inquiries about the Silver Queen company. He discovered that they had offices, and thither he repaired. Although he was sure that his sale to Casimir had fallen through he had share-certificates in the company, and they might be of some value.

The Silver Queen offices were located in a back room of a newly erected office-building, and were apparently shared by several real estate and insurance men. A man sitting with his feet on a desk, smoking and reading a paper, was pointed out to him as Farrel, the president and managing director of the Silver Queen. He greeted Mortimer with slight ceremony.

"I have some shares in the mine and I'd like some information about it," said the latter.

"You're plumb welcome to information, said Farrel. "I don't remember your name as a stockholder."

"I've just bought the shares, said Mortimer.

"Hope you got 'em cheap, then," returned Farrel grimly. "If you want any more I've a bunch to sell at bargain prices."

"What are they worth?" asked Mortimer, with a sinking heart.

Farrel spat accurately into a waste-basket.

"By the square foot," he replied, "they'll come cheaper'n burlap. They'd make an artistic thing in wall-paper."

"You don't mean to say they're worthless?" cried Mortimer. "I was told there was a new strike."

"The men struck—and they're not paid yet," said Farrel calmly. "Here's the whole thing in a nutshell. The Silver Queen may be a good quarry, but it ain't a mine. There was ore once, but it has pinched out. The company is busted and high and dry. Some of us who were fools enough to sign notes to the bank for capital to develop with are being sued on 'em now. The Silver Queen is dead horse—wolf bait—all same the flowers of yesteryear. If you've bought any lithographs I'm sorry for you."

Mortimer drew out his bundle of certificates.

"I—I've a hundred thousand," he said in a choking voice, for after all he was very young, "and I paid twenty cents a share!"

Farrel spread out the certificates and looked at the signatures, at first carelessly and then with attention. He whistled.

"This isn't old Bill Lowrey's signature." he said. And after a moment's inspection: "And these aren't our certificates, either. Not that ours are worth much more; but these are forgeries. Tell me about it."

Mortimer told his story in shaky tones. Farrel listened with rough sympathy, tinged with contempt.

"Mr. Mortimer," he said, when the other had concluded, "you've fallen for the 'sick-engineer' game. It's a come-on so old they worked it in Solomon's times. Don't think I'm rubbing it in, but there isn't a chance on earth of getting your money back; if you have any left I'd advise you to put it in a bank and draw it out one dollar at a time. It's the only safe system for some people."