In Her Own Right Part 13

"There is only one thing more--money," said Macloud. "You haven't found any of it down here, have you?"

"That is just what I don't know," Croyden replied, tossing away his cigarette, and crossing to the desk by the window. "It depends--on this." He handed the Parmenter letter to Macloud. "Read it through--the endors.e.m.e.nts last, in their order--and then tell me what you think of it."...

"These endors.e.m.e.nts, I take it," said Macloud, "though without date and signed only with initials, were made by the original addressee, Marmaduke Duval, his son, who was presumably Daniel Duval, and Daniel Duval's son, Marmaduke; the rest, of course, is plain."

"That is correct," Croyden answered. "I have made inquiries--Colonel Duval's father was Marmaduke, whose son was Daniel, whose son was Marmaduke, the addressee."

"Then why isn't it true?" Macloud demanded.

"My dear fellow, I'm not denying it! I simply want your opinion--what to do?"

"Have you shown this letter to anyone else?"

"No one."

"Well, you're a fool to show it even to me. What a.s.surance have you that, when I leave here, I won't go straight to Annapolis and steal your treasure?"

"No a.s.surance, except a lamblike trust in your friends.h.i.+p," said Croyden, with an amused smile.

"Your recent experience with Royster & Axtell and the Heights should beget confidences of this kind?" he said sarcastically, tapping the letter the while. "You trust too much in friends.h.i.+p, Croyden. Tests of half a million dollars aren't human!" Then he grinned. "I always thought there was something G.o.d-like about me. So, maybe, you're safe.

But it was a fearful risk, man, a fearful risk!" He looked at the letter again. "Sure, it's true! The man to whom it was addressed believed it--else why did he endorse it to his son? And we can a.s.sume that Daniel Duval knew his father's writing, and accepted it.--Oh, it's genuine enough. But to prove it, did you identify Marmaduke Duval's writing--any papers or old letters in the house?"

"I don't know," returned Croyden. "I'll ask Moses to-morrow."

"Better not arouse his curiosity--darkies are most inquisitive, you know--where did you find the letter?"

Croyden showed him the secret drawer.

"Another proof of its genuineness," said Macloud. "Have you made any effort to identify this man Parmenter--from the records at Annapolis."

"No--I've done nothing but look at the letter--except to trace the Duval descent," Croyden replied.

"He speaks, here, of his last will and testament being left with Mr.

Dulany. If it were probated, that will establish Parmenter, especially if Marmaduke Duval is the legatee. What do you know of Annapolis?"

"Nothing! I never was there--I looked it up on the map I found, here, and Greenberry Point is as the letter says--across the Severn River from it."

Macloud laughed, in good-natured raillery.

"You seem to have been in a devil of a hurry!" he said. "At the same rate of progression, you will go to Annapolis some time next spring, and get over to Greenberry Point about autumn."

"On the contrary, it's your coming that delayed me," Croyden smiled.

"But for your wire, I would have started this morning--now, if you will accompany me, we'll go day-after-to-morrow."

"Why delay?" said Macloud. "Why not go to-night?"

"It's a long journey around the Bay by rail--I'd rather cross to Baltimore by boat; from there it's only an hour's ride to Annapolis by electric cars. And there isn't any boat sailing until day-after-to-morrow."

"Where's the map?" said Macloud. "Let me see where we are, and where Annapolis is.... Hum! we're almost opposite! Can't we get a boat in the morning to take us across direct--charter it, I mean? The Chesapeake isn't wide at this point--a sailing vessel ought to make it in a few hours."

"I'll go you!" exclaimed Croyden. He went to the telephone and called up d.i.c.k. "This is Geoffrey Croyden!" he said.--"I've a friend who wants to go across the Bay to Annapolis, in the morning. Where can I find out if there is a sailing vessel, or a motor boat, obtainable?... what's that you say?... Miles Casey?--on Fleet Street, near the wharf?...

Thank you!--He says," turning to Macloud, "Casey will likely take us--he has a fis.h.i.+ng schooner and it is in port. He lives on Fleet Street--we will walk down, presently, and see him."

Macloud nodded a.s.sent, and fell to studying the directions again.

Croyden returned to his chair and smoked in silence, waiting for his friend to conclude. At length, the latter folded the letter and looked up.

"It oughtn't to be hard to find," he observed.

"Not if the trees are still standing, and the Point is in the same place," said Croyden. "But we're going to find the Point s.h.i.+fted about ninety degrees, and G.o.d knows how many feet, while the trees will have long since disappeared."

"Or the whole Point may be built over with houses!" Macloud responded.

"Why not go the whole throw-down at once--make it impossible to recover rather than only difficult to locate!" He made a gesture of disbelief. "Do you fancy that the Duvals didn't keep an eye on Greenberry Point?--that they wouldn't have noted, in their endors.e.m.e.nts, any change in the ground? So it's clear, in my mind, that, when Colonel Duval transferred this letter to you, the Parmenter treasure could readily be located."

"I'm sure I shan't object, in the least, if we walk directly to the spot, and hit the box on the third dig of the pick!" laughed Croyden.

"But let us forget the old pirate, until to-morrow; tell me about Northumberland--it seems a year since I left! When one goes away for good and all, it's different, you know, from going away for the summer."

"And you think you have left it for good and all?" asked Macloud, blowing a smoke-ring and watching him with contemplative eyes--"Well, the place is the same--only more so. A good many people have come back.

The Heights is more lively than when you left, teas, and dinners, and tournaments and such like.--In town, the Northumberland's resuming its regulars--the theatres are open, and the Club has taken the bald-headed row on Monday nights as usual. Billy Cain has turned up engaged, also as usual--this time, it's a Richmond girl, 'regular screamer,' he says.

It will last the allotted time, of course--six weeks was the limit for the last two, you'll remember. Smythe put it all over Little in the tennis tournament, and 'Pud' Lester won the golf champions.h.i.+p. Terry's horse, _Peach Blossom_, fell and broke its neck in the high jump, at the Horse Show; Terry came out easier--he broke only his collar-bone.

Mattison is the little bounder he always was--a month hasn't changed him--except for the worse. Hungerford is a bit sillier. Colloden is the same bully fellow; he is disconsolate, now, because he is beginning to take on flesh." Whereat both laughed. "Danridge is back from the North Cape, via Paris, with a new drink he calls _The Spasmodic_--it's made of gin, whiskey, brandy, and absinthe, all in a pint of sarsaparilla.

He says it's great--I've not sampled it, but judging from those who have he is drawing it mild.... Betty Whitridge and Nancy Wellesly have organized a Sinners Cla.s.s, prerequisites for members.h.i.+p in which are that you play Bridge on Sundays and have abstained from church for at least six months. It's limited to twenty. They filled it the first morning, and have a waiting list of something over seventy-five....

That is about all I can think of that's new."

"Has any one inquired about me?" Croyden asked--with the lingering desire one has not to be forgot.

Macloud shot a questioning glance at him.

"Beyond the fact that the bankruptcy schedules show you were pretty hard hit, I've heard no one comment," he said. "They think you're in Europe. Elaine Cavendish is sponsor for that report--she says you told her you were called, suddenly, abroad."

Croyden nodded. Then, after a pause:

"Any one inclined to play the devoted, there?" he asked.

"Plenty inclined--plenty anxious," replied Macloud. "I'm looking a bit that way myself--I may get into the running, since you are out of it,"

he added.

Croyden made as though to speak, then bit off the words.

"Yes, I'm out of it," he said shortly.

"But you're not out of it--if you find the pirate's treasure."

"Wait until I find it--at present, I'm only an 'also ran.'"

"Who had the field, however, until withdrawn," said Macloud.

"Maybe!" Croyden laughed. "But things have changed with me, Macloud; I've had time for thought and meditation. I'm not sure I should go back to Northumberland, even if the Parmenter jewels are real. Had I stayed there I suppose I should have taken my chance with the rest, but I'm becoming doubtful, recently, of giving such hostages to fortune. It's all right for a woman to marry a rich man, but it is a totally different proposition for a poor man to marry a rich woman. Even with the Parmenter treasure, I'd be poor in comparison with Elaine Cavendish and her millions--and I'm afraid the sweet bells would soon be jangling out of tune."