CHAPTER XXVIII

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History has been made so rapidly that those in the midst of it will not realize its speed for many years.

Unmasking the ambitious operations of Bulow and Company in the South led to swift investigation of other suspicious concerns. Every one had a well-worn path to the Transatlantic Banking Company. A monster serpent had boldly come out of the sea and coiled itself up in Wall Street, emitting foul, stuporous fumes as well as distilled poison through financial channels. The fatally faulty psychology of the Hun and cohorts misled him as usual.

One morning the country was electrified by the announcement that the Transatlantic Banking Company was taken over as alien enemy property, and a little swift work on their books revealed hundreds of millions more property, mostly manufacturing. The serpent lacked brains as usual.

Frequent announcements were made that sales of such property would take place either by auction or private arrangement, every time scotching a snake. The department wanted to convict Ramund, who was a director in the Transatlantic Banking Company, and it was my work to procure every bit of evidence bearing on his case, especially as it established that in Mexico Germans traded in everything from twelve-year-old virgins to highest executives.

I was taking some memoranda in the office of the custodian of alien enemy property and paying little attention to the auctioneer, who was selling widely scattered properties to a big crowd of buyers outside the rail.

However, I was instantly at attention when I heard the name Byng & Potter, Incorporated. The whole history of how the bank had deliberately robbed Howard Byng of his life's work, offered the apple to his wife and wrecked his home, instantly flashed through my mind.

The first bid was two hundred and fifty thousand dollars, but in less than ten seconds the auctioneer was calling five hundred thousand. There was no more excitement than if he was auctioning a Bowery suit of clothes or fake jewelry.

A clerk who was working near me, well back from the rail, said it was a little connecting railroad that sent it up so high, as the other property was about nil in value. I kept on working where I sat but listened.

"Why is a jerkwater railroad exciting the bidders?" I asked the clerk.

"Well, it's leased and incorporated now into a big system."

"U-m!" I could understand now why the bidding had gradually crawled up to nine hundred thousand, where it hung again, when a bid of nine hundred and twenty-five was made, to be promptly raised by someone to nine-fifty. There was something in the tone of the last bidder that made me rise instantly and go to the rail that separated the buyers from the office.

I was not mistaken. It was Howard Byng, wonderful, powerful, great Howard, now of New York. He did not notice me at first. A man again among men, the clean-cut, prosperous Howard Byng, his masterly aquiline nose and acumen coping with bankers where he belonged. The one I left in the Waldorf fifteen years ago, just before they stole his property and made him a lowly fisherman. I knew, though outwardly stoical, it was a glorious moment for him. Nine-fifty was the last bid and the property was his. As he came out of a corner near the clerk's desk he made no effort to conceal his triumph and deposited with the cashier a certified check for two hundred and fifty thousand, balance to be paid when conveyance was completed.

His eyes filled with delight and eagerness when he saw me. The greeting of a big man is never noisy. His eyes were dancing as he carefully folded his receipt. I knew how he felt by the way he continued to grip my arm when leaving, there being a warmth and firm magnetism in it that delighted me—of a real man who does things, who removes obstacles with a punch and a bang.

"Meeting you finishes it. I am satisfied. Let's go to the Waldorf. I want to sit in the same seat where I talked with you the last time. I am going to take up life from that point, where I started astray by not following your advice," he said, just as though our meeting had been arranged as part of that day's duties.

"Have you seen little Jim?" he now questioned, after we were seated in the same quiet corner.

"No; not since she left the Keys, but I know she is all right."

"Yes; she is safe and happy and learning fast. A teacher has taken a fancy to her and treats her like a daughter. No doubt, that is your work and I certainly appreciate it. I had to go back to the Keys to dispose of everything there, my store and tannery interests. She writes me the most delightful letters, one every day; in every one she mentions this teacher. She is a great girl, Wood," he added delightedly.

"You may well be proud of her, Howard."

"Have I got time to go down to Georgia with Don to get things started again where they left off fifteen years ago, before this case goes to trial?"

"Yes, I think so. Anyhow, I can reach you easily."

"That's one of the things that remains to be done; that man must be punished," he said savagely. "Fifteen years have changed me a great deal but I do not hate him one bit less. Killing is not enough for such vermin," he said with that deadly gleam in his eyes and the grinding of that wonderful jaw. His clean-shaven skin had a pinkish freshness and forceful virility. "And, Wood, another difficulty, strange as it may seem, presents itself—a great difficulty. I am a coward, Wood, a downright, craven coward." His fierceness softened and finally gave way to grave concern.

"What is it?"

"When I really came to myself—after five or six years on the Keys I was yet very bitter; I had envenomed acid bitterness against—well, about everybody. Little Jim was old enough to ask questions. She asked me about her mother. I told her she was dead—dead to me as a fact. But lately, likely suggested by her association with this teacher and other girls, she has asked about her mother again and wants to see where she is buried. How am I going to meet it? And, moreover, how am I going to tell her that my name is not Canby? And how am I going to tell her—what led to it? Her mind is like a steel trap. Silence only emphasizes. What shall I do? I love the child so much I have a cowardly fear that she will not understand."

"Howard, I realize your feelings and have foreseen your difficulties. I believe I can help you—possibly at the expense of your friendship—for a time——"

"That's impossible, Wood; you are one person to whom I must listen."

"All right, then brace yourself, for I am going to give it to you in allopathic doses. Howard, can you recall, when we last sat in this corner fifteen years ago, why I counseled caution, to 'play close' and let good enough alone?"

"Yes, just as though it was yesterday. You said I was due for a crisis, and I was weak enough to be convinced otherwise."

"Well—it so happened that I hit the nail on the head. You have been through fifteen years of fire and tribulations. I believe you have not only been fashioned into a splendid, valuable tool, but have been pretty well tempered, ground and whetted to a fine cutting edge. But it may be possible a little more fire is necessary to draw the temper to a point where it won't nick or crumble when it strikes something very hard. Do you understand me, Howard?"

"Yes, perfectly. I have made and tempered steel-cutting tools and know exactly what you mean," he replied eagerly.

"Well, you were about thirty then; you are forty-five now, and it may be you are in for another little time, through which your natural and acquired bigness will carry you safely, but not without serious effort."

"I understand; go ahead," he urged, moving uneasily.

"Howard, no really big, useful man can afford to harbor even thoughts of revenge or bear malice or hatred toward anyone. But you have a right, in fact it is a duty, to hate the hellish or the evil in anyone."

"I see the distinction—go ahead." His eyelids twitched nervously.

"Now I'm going to put to the test your Southern blood—the vital Georgia Cracker blood that has carried you through and brought you out on top. You have just told me you still hate, fiercely hate, this man Ramund?"

"Yes—yes—he destroyed my home, he ruined me—he——"

"Howard," I interrupted, "I know he violated every law of the decalog—but can't you think he has been pretty well punished? Everything now indicates that he will forfeit his hundred thousand bail and never return. You and I know a suitable, fearful punishment has been inflicted, and I glory with you, but what I am getting at is that you ought to hate his acts and everything he represents, but not the man himself. To hate any man is distinctly corroding and exceedingly harmful."

Howard did not reply but struggled with the fire within.

"And now that leads to a more important subject: Have you ever tried—have you ever thought of trying to find little Jim's mother?" I asked slowly, looking straight in his eyes, in fierce combat with the man's colossal will.

He did not reply at once, but slowly it came to him that he must reply.

"I—I—no!" he hesitated, I believe for the moment burning with resentment at the question. "I have closed the book in which it is written and locked it forever. I can see no possible good in even recalling it," he added, softening slightly.

"Howard, that's the point. This is going to be the crucial test between you and me, even after all these years. Now, let us think for a moment to see if you have not yet duties to perform—to yourself, duties to her, and, more, to little Jim. Howard, as far as money goes, I know you are well fixed—again. I saw you pay nearly a million dollars for your old property, and get it for about half-price, with no more effort than for me to buy a half dozen collars, and that brings——"

"But, Wood," he interrupted, and without resentment, "I don't believe you fully understand. I saw—waking and sane—I saw her unresisting in that man's arms receiving his lascivious caresses and kisses. Wood, at that moment I would give all I paid for that property this morning, if I could recall the slightest gesture of resentment, and for a sign or groan of agony at the ravishing insult and indignity. I would give every cent I have or shall ever earn in my life. But my ears, whetted to the keenness of the hearing of fifty men combined, detected not the slightest protest," he ended, his powerful body trembling and shocked at even recalling the distressing incident of fifteen years ago.

"But—dismissing that phase of it, can you still escape responsibility? When you sat here with me the last time, you were intensely happy in the possession of her love and tender care, and had been for some time. Then she bore your child, she is the mother of little Jim. As a common debt of gratitude for this are you not bound now to find her and see that she is made comfortable and not in want? You owe, actually owe her in money value this much, as the mother of little Jim."

I halted in order that my words might sink deep before speaking again.

"And, Howard, something more important, you give me credit for starting you out of the pine woods. Maybe I did, but during the time you loved and was happy with her, she did more to develop the man in you than I could do in a thousand years. To overlook this is ungrateful; plain, simple ingratitude."

It was the first time I ever saw tears in Howard Byng's eyes, big tears. His mouth twitched and he swallowed hard.

"Wood," he finally began, struggling manfully to control himself, "it may be you are right. I think you are. I should provide for her, but I don't know how to go about it. And—and there have been times lately when I have thought I was too harsh and uncompromising, but facts are pungent, bristling things no matter how much you might wish otherwise." This came in such manner from the bigness of the man that I grasped his hand eagerly.

"God bless you, Howard! I am busy, every man with red blood in our nation is busy, but I will undertake to learn something about her. You go back to Georgia. Our nation needs every ounce of turpentine and rosin you can make and needs them badly, as well as the paper and cotton. Go down there and make things hum for Uncle Sam and I will see what can be done. Also I will see little Jim. I believe I can overcome your difficulties there."


                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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