The Greatest Works of Melville Davisson Post: 40+ Titles in One Edition. Melville Davisson Post
the house!" answered the man, bitterly, "your irony approaches the sublime; we have only five thousand dollars and no security. How could we buy a house?"
"I am meeting the difficulties, if you please, sir," said Mason, "and not yourself. At ten tomorrow you must be at Lynn. At two p.m. you will call upon Barton Woodlas, giving your name as Sidney Van Guilder, from New York. He knows that family, and will at once presume your wealth. You will say to him that you desire to purchase a country place for your grandfather, and heard of his residence. The old gentleman will at once jump at this chance for a wealthy purchaser, and drive you out to his grounds. You will criticise somewhat and make some objections, but will finally conclude to purchase, if satisfactory terms can be made. Here you will find Barton Woodlas a shrewd business dealer, and you must follow my instructions to the very letter. He will finally agree to take about fifty thousand dollars. You will make the purchase proposing to pay down five thousand cash, and give a mortgage on the property for the residue of the purchase money, making short-time notes. Five thousand in hand and a mortgage will of course be safe, and the old gentleman will take it. You demand immediate possession, and as he is not residing in the house you will get it. Go with him at once to his attorney, pay the money, have the papers signed and recorded, and be in full possession of the property by four o'clock in the afternoon."
Mason stopped abruptly and turned to Gordon Montcure. "Sir," he said curtly, "I must ask you to step into the other office and remain until I have finished my instructions to your brother. I have found it best to explain to each individual that part of the transaction which he is expected to perform. Suggestions made in the presence of a third party invariably lead to disaster." Gordon Montcure went into the outer room and sat down. He was impressed by this strange interview with Mason. Here was certainly one of the most powerful and mysterious men he had ever met,—one whom he could not understand, who was a mighty enigma. But the man was so clear and positive that Montcure concluded to do exactly as he said. After all, the money they were risking was utterly worthless as matters now stood.
In a few moments Sidney Montcure came out of the private office and took a cab for the depot, leaving his brother in private interview with Randolph Mason.
II.
The following afternoon, Gordon Montcure stepped from the train at Lynn. An hour before, en route, he had received a telegram from Mason saying that the deal had been made and that his brother was in possession of the property, and authorizing him to proceed according to instructions. He was a man of business methods and began at once to play his part. Calling a carriage, he went to the court-house and ascertained that the deed had been properly recorded. Then he drove to the hotel of Barton Woodlas and demanded to see that gentleman at once. He was shown into a private parlor and in a few minutes the shoe capitalist came down. He was a short, nervous, fat man with a pompous strut.
"Mr. Woodlas, I presume," said Gordon Mont-cure.
"The same, sir," was the answer; "to what am I indebted for this honor?"
"To be brief," replied Montcure, "I am looking for one Sidney Van Guilder. I am informed that he was to-day with you in this city. Can you tell me where I can see him?"
"Why, yes," said the old gentleman, anxiously; "I suppose he is out at the residence I to-day sold him for his grandfather. Is there anything wrong?"
"What?" cried Montcure, starting up, "You sold him a residence to-day? Curse the luck! I am too late. He is evidently into his old tricks."
"Old tricks," said the little fat man, growing pale, "what in Heaven's name is wrong with him? Speak out, man; speak out!"
"To come at once to the point," said Gordon Montcure, "Mr. Van Guilder is just a little offcolor. He is shrewd and all right in every way except for this one peculiarity. He seems to have an insane desire to purchase fine buildings and convert them into homes for his horses. He has attempted to change several houses on Fifth Avenue into palatial stables, and has only been prevented by the city authorities. In all human probability the house you have sold him will be full of stalls by morning."
"My house full of stalls!" yelled the little fat man, "my house that I have spent so much money on, and my beautiful grounds a barn-yard! Never! never! Come on, sir, come on, we must go there at once!" And Barton Woodlas waddled out of the room as fast as his short legs could carry him. Gordon Montcure followed, smiling.
Both men climbed into Montcure's carriage and hurried out to the suburban residence. The grounds were indeed magnificent, and the house a palace. As they drove in, they noticed several Italian laborers digging a trench across the lawn. Barton Woodlas tumbled out of the carriage and bolted into the house, followed by Montcure. Here they found a scene of the greatest confusion. The house was filled with grimy workmen. They were taking off the doors and shutters, and removing the stairway, and hammering in different portions of the house until the noise was like bedlam.
Sidney Van Guilder stood in the drawing-room, with his coat off, directing his workmen. His clothing was disarranged and dusty but he was apparently enthusiastic and happy. "Stop, sir! stop!" cried Barton Woodlas, waving his arms and rushing into the room. "Put these dirty workmen out of here and stop this vandalism at once! At once!"
Sidney Van Guilder turned round smiling. "Ah," he said, "is it you, Mr. Woodlas? I am getting on swimmingly you see. This will make a magnificent stable. I can put my horses on both floors, but I will be compelled to cut the inside all out, and make great changes. It is a pity that you built your rooms so big."
For a moment the little man was speechless with rage; then he danced up and down and yelled: "Oh, you crazy fool! You crazy fool! You are destroying my house! It won't be worth a dollar!"
"I beg your pardon," said Van Guilder, coldly, "this is my house and I shall do with it as I like. I have bought it and I shall make a home for my horses of it by morning. It cannot possibly be any business of yours."
"No business of mine!" shouted Woodlas, "what security have I but the mortgage? And if you go on with this cursed gutting the mortgage won't be worth a dollar. Oh, my beautiful house! My beautiful house! It is awful, awful! Come on, sir," he yelled to Gordon Montcure, "I will find a way to stop the blooming idiot!"
With that he rushed out of the house and rolled into the carriage, Gordon Montcure following. Together the two men were driven furiously to the office of Vinson Harcout, counsellor for the Shoe Trust.
That usually placid and unexcitable gentleman turned round in astonishment as the two men bolted into his private office. Woodlas dropped into a chair and, between curses and puffs of exhaustion, began to describe his trouble. When the lawyer had finally succeeded in drawing from the irate old man a full understanding of the matter, he leaned back in his chair and stroked his chin thoughtfully.
"Well," he said, "this is an unfortunate state of affairs, but there is really no legal remedy for it. The title to the property is in Mr. Van Guilder. He is in possession by due and proper process of law, and he can do as he pleases, even to the extent of destroying the property utterly. If he chooses to convert his residence into a stable, he certainly commits no crime and simply exercises a right which is legally his own. It is true that you have such equitable interest in the property that you might be able to stop him by injunction proceedings—we will try that at any rate."
The attorney stopped and turned to his stenographer. "William," he said, "ask the clerk if Judge Henderson is in the court-room." The young man went to the telephone and returned in a moment. "Judge Henderson is not in the city, sir," he said. "The clerk answers that he went to Boston early in the day to meet with some judicial committee from New York and will not return until to-morrow."
The lawyer's face lengthened. "Well," he said, "that is the end of it. We could not possibly reach him in time to prevent Mr. Van Guilder from carrying out his intentions."
Gordon Montcure smiled grimly. Mason had promised to inveigle away the resident judge by means of a bogus telegram, and he had done so.
"Oh!"