"Why, because I got the telegram, of course! You expected me to come, didn't you?""_I_ expected you? Telegram? What telegram?""Why, the--Good Lord, Caro! what are you talking about? Didn't you know they telegraphed me to come home at once? I've pretty nearly broke my neck, and the taxicab man's, getting here from the station. I thought you must be very ill, or something worse.""They telegraphed you to come here? Who . . . Edwards, you may take Mr. Warren's things to his room.""But, Sis--"
"Just a moment, Steve. Give Edwards your coat and hat. Yes, and your bag. That will be all, Edwards. We sha'n't need you."When they were alone, she turned again to her brother.
"Now, Steve," she said, "sit down and tell me what you mean. Who telegraphed you?""Why, old Sylvester, father's lawyer. I've got the message here somewhere. No, never mind! I've lost it, I guess. He wired me to come home as early as possible this morning. Said it was very important. And you didn't know anything about it?""No, not a thing. What can it mean?"
"_I_ don't know! That's the bell, isn't it? Edwards!"But the butler was already on his way to the door. A moment later he returned.
"Mr. Sylvester," he announced.
Captain Elisha scarcely left his room, except for meals, during the remainder of that day and for two days thereafter. He was unusually silent at table and avoided conversation even with Pearson, who was depressed and gloomy and made no attempt to force his society upon his friend. Once, passing the door of the latter's room, he heard the captain pacing back and forth as if he were walking the quarter-deck of one of his old ships. As Pearson stood listening the footsteps ceased; silence, then a deep sigh, and they began again. The young man sighed in sympathy and wearily climbed to his den. The prospect of chimneys and roofs across the way was never more desolate or more pregnant with discouragement.
Several times Captain Elisha descended to the closet where the telephone was fastened to the wall and held long conversations with someone. Mrs. Hepton, who knew that her newest boarder was anxious and disturbed, and was very curious to learn the reason, made it a point to be busy near that closet while these conversations took place; but, as the captain was always careful to close the door, she was disappointed. Once the mysterious Mr. Sylvester called up and asked for "Captain Warren," and the landlady hastened with the summons.
"I hope it's nothing serious," she observed, feelingly.
"Yes, ma'am," replied the captain, on his way to the stairs. "Much obliged.""It is the same person who was so very anxious to get you the other night," she continued, making desperate efforts not to be left behind in the descent. "I declare he quite frightened me! And--you'll excuse me, Captain Warren, but I take such a real friendly interest in my boarders--you have seemed to me rather--rather upset lately, and I DO hope it isn't bad news.""Well, I tell you, ma'am," was the unsatisfactory answer, given just before the closet door closed; "we'll do the way the poor relation did when he got word his uncle had willed him one of his suits of clothes--we'll hope for the best."Sylvester had a report to make.
"The other party has been here," he said. "He has just gone.""The other party? Why--you don't mean--HIM?""Yes."
"Was he alone? Nobody along to look after him?""He was alone, for a wonder. He had heard the news, too. Apparently had just learned it.""He had? I want to know! Who told him?"
"He didn't say. He was very much agitated. Wouldn't say anything except to ask if it was true. I think we can guess who told him.""Maybe. Well, what did you say?"
"Nothing of importance. I refused to discuss my clients' affairs.""Right you are! How did he take that?"
"He went up like a sky-rocket. Said he had a right to know, under the circumstances. I admitted it, but said I could tell him nothing--yet. He went away frantic, and I called you.""Um-hm. Well, Mr. Sylvester, suppose you do see him and his boss.
See 'em and tell 'em some of the truth. Don't tell too much though; not who was to blame nor how, but just that it looks pretty bad so fur as the estate's concerned. Then say you want to see 'em again and will arrange another interview. Don't set any time and place for that until you hear from me. Understand?""I think so, partially. But--"
"Until you hear from me--that's the important part. And, if you can, convenient, I'd have the fust interview right off; this afternoon, if it's possible.""Captain, what have you got up your sleeve? Why don't you come down here and talk it over?""'Cause I'm stickin' close aboard and waitin' developments. Maybe there won't be any, but I'm goin' to wait a spell and see. There ain't much up my sleeve just now but goose-flesh; there's plenty of that. So long."A development came that evening. Mrs. Hepton heralded it.
"Captain," she said, when he answered her knock, "there's a young gentleman to see you. I think he must be a relative of yours. His name is Warren."Captain Elisha pulled his beard. "A young GENTLEMAN?" he repeated.
"Yes. I showed him into the parlor. There will be no one there but you and he, and I thought it would be more comfortable.""Um-hm. I see. Well, I guess you'd better send him up. This is comfortable enough, and there won't be nobody but him and me here, either--and I'll be more sartin of it."The landlady, who considered herself snubbed, flounced away.
Captain Elisha stepped to the head of the stairs.
"Come right up, Steve!" he called.
Stephen came. His uncle ushered him into the room, closed the door, and turned the key.
"Stevie," he said, kindly, "I'm glad to see you. Take off your things and set down."The boy accepted the invitation only to the extent of throwing his hat on the table. He did not sit or remove his overcoat. He was pale, his eyes were swollen and red, his hair was disarranged, and in all respects he looked unlike his usual blase and immaculate self. His forehead was wet, showing that he had hurried on his way to the boarding house.
