The Lion and The Mouse Part 25

"It's a point in her favor, isn't it?"

"Yes--but--" He hesitated as if uncertain what to say.

"You know men well, don't you, Mr. Ryder?"

"I've met enough to know them pretty well," he replied.

"Why don't you study women for a change?" she asked. "That would enable you to understand a great many things that I don't think are quite clear to you now."

Ryder laughed good humouredly. It was decidedly a novel sensation to have someone lecturing him.

"I'm studying you," he said, "but I don't seem to make much headway. A woman like you whose mind isn't spoiled by the amus.e.m.e.nt habit has great possibilities--great possibilities. Do you know you're the first woman I ever took into my confidence--I mean at sight?" Again he fixed her with that keen glance which in his business life had taught him how to read men. He continued: "I'm acting on sentiment--something I rarely do, but I can't help it. I like you, upon my soul I do, and I'm going to introduce you to my wife--my son--"

He took the telephone from his desk as if he were going to use it.

"What a commander-in-chief you would have made--how natural it is for you to command," exclaimed s.h.i.+rley in a burst of admiration that was half real, half mocking. "I suppose you always tell people what they are to do and how they are to do it. You are a born general. You know I've often thought that Napoleon and Caesar and Alexander must have been great domestic leaders as well as imperial rulers. I'm sure of it now."

Ryder listened to her in amazement. He was not quite sure if she were making fun of him or not.

"Well, of all--" he began. Then interrupting himself he said amiably: "Won't you do me the honour to meet my family?"

s.h.i.+rley smiled sweetly and bowed.

"Thank you, Mr. Ryder, I will."

She rose from her seat and leaned over the ma.n.u.scripts to conceal the satisfaction this promise of an introduction to the family circle gave her. She was quick to see that it meant more visits to the house, and other and perhaps better opportunities to find the objects of her search. Ryder lifted the receiver of his telephone and talked to his secretary in another room, while s.h.i.+rley, who was still standing, continued examining the papers and letters.

"Is that you, Bagley? What's that? General Dodge? Get rid of him.

I can't see him to-day. Tell him to come to-morrow. What's that?

My son wants to see me? Tell him to come to the phone."

At that instant s.h.i.+rley gave a little cry, which in vain she tried to suppress. Ryder looked up.

"What's the matter?" he demanded startled.

"Nothing--nothing!" she replied in a hoa.r.s.e whisper. "I p.r.i.c.ked myself with a pin. Don't mind me."

She had just come across her father's missing letters, which had got mixed up, evidently without Ryder's knowledge, in the ma.s.s of papers he had handed her. Prepared as she was to find the letters somewhere in the house, she never dreamed that fate would put them so easily and so quickly into her hands; the suddenness of their appearance and the sight of her father's familiar signature affected her almost like a shock. Now she had them, she must not let them go again; yet how could she keep them un.o.bserved? Could she conceal them? Would he miss them? She tried to slip them in her bosom while Ryder was busy at the 'phone, but he suddenly glanced in her direction and caught her eye. She still held the letters in her hand, which shook from nervousness, but he noticed nothing and went on speaking through the 'phone:

"Hallo, Jefferson, boy! You want to see me. Can you wait till I'm through? I've got a lady here. Going away? Nonsense! Determined, eh? Well, I can't keep you here if you've made up your mind. You want to say good-bye. Come up in about five minutes and I'll introduce you to a very interesting person,"

He laughed and hung up the receiver. s.h.i.+rley was all unstrung, trying to overcome the emotion which her discovery had caused her, and in a strangely altered voice, the result of the nervous strain she was under, she said:

"You want me to come here?"

She looked up from the letters she was reading across to Ryder, who was standing watching her on the other side of the desk. He caught her glance and, leaning over to take some ma.n.u.script, he said:

"Yes, I don't want these papers to get--"

His eye suddenly rested on the letters she was holding. He stopped short, and reaching forward he tried to s.n.a.t.c.h them from her.

"What have you got there?" he exclaimed.

He took the letters and she made no resistance. It would be folly to force the issue now, she thought. Another opportunity would present itself. Ryder locked the letters up very carefully in the drawer on the left-hand side of his desk, muttering to himself rather than speaking to s.h.i.+rley:

"How on earth did they get among my other papers?"

"From Judge Rossmore, were they not?" said s.h.i.+rley boldly.

"How did you know it was Judge Rossmore?" demanded Ryder suspiciously. "I didn't know that his name had been mentioned."

"I saw his signature," she said simply. Then she added: "He's the father of the girl you don't like, isn't he?"

"Yes, he's the--"

A cloud came over the financier's face; his eyes darkened, his jaws snapped and he clenched his fist.

"How you must hate him!" said s.h.i.+rley, who observed the change.

"Not at all," replied Ryder recovering his self-possession and suavity of manner. "I disagree with his politics and his methods, but--I know very little about him except that he is about to be removed from office."

"About to be?" echoed s.h.i.+rley. "So his fate is decided even before he is tried?" The girl laughed bitterly. "Yes," she went on, "some of the newspapers are beginning to think he is innocent of the things of which he is accused."

"Do they?" said Ryder indifferently.

"Yes," she persisted, "most people are on his side."

She planted her elbows on the desk in front of her, and looking him squarely in the face, she asked him point blank:

"Whose side are you on--really and truly?"

Ryder winced. What right had this woman, a stranger both to Judge Rossmore and himself, to come here and catechise him? He restrained his impatience with difficulty as he replied:

"Whose side am I on? Oh, I don't know that I am on any side. I don't know that I give it much thought. I--"

"Do you think this man deserves to be punished?" she demanded.

She had resumed her seat at the desk and partly regained her self-possession.

"Why do you ask? What is your interest in this matter?"

"I don't know," she replied evasively; "his case interests me, that's all. Its rather romantic. Your son loves this man's daughter. He is in disgrace--many seem to think unjustly." Her voice trembled with emotion as she continued: "I have heard from one source or another--you know I am acquainted with a number of newspaper men--I have heard that life no longer has any interest for him, that he is not only disgraced but beggared, that he is pining away slowly, dying of a broken heart, that his wife and daughter are in despair. Tell me, do you think he deserves such a fate?"

Ryder remained thoughtful a moment, and then he replied:

"No, I do not--no--"

Thinking that she had touched his sympathies, s.h.i.+rley followed up her advantage: