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"These," he slapped a letter, "would make any Grand Jury throw fits, make every newspaper in the state break out into headlines like a kid with measles, and blow the lid off things in general if they got out. "Inglesby's going to shove Eustis under, is he? Not by a jugfull. He's going to play he's a patent life-preserver. He's going to be that good Samaritan he's been shamming.
She dared not speak out openly to anybody, she dared not flatly refuse Inglesby's pretensions, for that would be to invite the avalanche. What she proposed to herself was to hold him off as long as she could. She would not be definite until the last possible minute. Always there was the chance that by some miracle of mercy Eustis might be able to meet those notes when they fell due.
And this service for Inglesby not only spelt safety; it meant the golden key to the heights, the power to gratify those fine tastes which only a rich and able man can afford. Inglesby had promised that, and he had just had a fair example of what Inglesby's support meant. One must try to consider the case from Mr. Hunter's point of view. To refuse Inglesby meant disaster.
"He will employ detectives," said I, uneasily. The Butterfly Man looked at me quizzically. "With an eagle eye and a walrus mustache," said he, grinning. "Sure. But if the plainclothes nose around, are they going to sherlock the parish priest and the town bughunter? We haven't got any interest in Mr. Inglesby's private correspondence, have we?
What a joke! Holy whiskered black cats, what a joke!" "I'm afraid Mr. Inglesby's sense of humor isn't his strong point," said I. "Not that I have any sympathy for him. I think he is getting only what he deserves." "Alexander the coppersmith wrought me much evil. May God requite him according to his works!" murmured the Butterfly Man, piously, and chuckled.
The very fact that there was such an obstacle in the way as a young fellow with whom she fancied herself in love only deepened Inglesby's passion for Mary Virginia. She was in her proper person all that he coveted and groveled to. To possess her in addition to his own wealth what more could a man ask? Let Eustis become senator, governor, president, anything he chose.
I bet you Inglesby's got to fork over a man-sized bucket of dough per, to keep him. There'll be a flutter of calico in this burg from now on, for that fellow certainly knows how to wear his face. He's gilt-edged from start to finish!" Laurence, lounging on the steps, looked up with a smile. "His arrival," said he, "has been duly chronicled in to-day's press.
The girl looked from it to George Inglesby's, and found herself unable to speak. But as she stood before him, tall and proud and pale, the loveliness, the appealing charm of her, went like a strong wine to the man's head. With a quick and fierce movement he seized her hand and covered it with hot and hateful kisses. At the touch of his lips cold horror seized her.
"That's just what I want to see him about," said Laurence. "You mentioned a a Mr. Hunter." Mary Virginia spoke after a short pause. "This is the first time I've heard of any Mr. Hunter in Appleboro. Who is Mr. Hunter?" "Inglesby's right-bower, and the king-card of the pack," said Laurence promptly.
"Inglesby's no worse than anybody else would be that had to hold down his job. He's got virtues, plenty of solid good-citizen, church-member, father-of-a-family virtues, little as you seem to realize it. Also, let me repeat he has twenty millions. To buy up a handful of letters for twenty million dollars looks to me about the biggest price ever paid since the world began. Don't be a fool!"
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