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"I am not saying anything against your father, Bettina, but if it wasn't for such idle good-for-nothings as myself, who let their money accumulate in his bank, I doubt if he could swing many of these 'big deals. If we were like he wanted us to be, we'd be swinging them ourselves." After Mr. Strumley had finished his bit of philosophy, he fell to communing with himself.
Stokes sadly, "it is quite probable the first option may be allowed to lapse, and I understand good money is to be made in Arkansas timber." His face had grown a trifle ashy. "Of course, this being the case, I feel in honor bound, Mr. Strumley, to instantly recall my request." Paul gave a gasp of admiration. He was glad Bettina's father was "game." So was Bettina.
Strumley leaned back and contentedly watched a flush overspread the banker's face. His automobile waited at the door to whisk him to Bettina, and he was ready to carry on the campaign there the moment her father had finished his effusions of gratitude. Meanwhile the flush deepened; and, all impatience to fly to his lady-love, Paul egged on the speech. "You will note, Mr.
There, briefly but eloquently, he announced the engagement of Miss Bettina Stokes to Mr. Paul Strumley, and naïvely requested for the happy young people a full share of the parental sanction and blessing. And his callow confidence can hardly be condemned on recalling that he was one of the wealthiest and most popular young swains in the city. Mr.
The crackle of the delicate linen beneath his grasp brought him sweetly back to the real. What delicious token could Bettina be sending him? Of course her father had told her all. How happy she, too, must be! Mr. Strumley broke the seal of the envelope and read: "MR. PAUL STRUMLEY, City. "DEAR SIR: "I herewith return your letters, photographs, etc. Papa has told me all.
The first thing that attracted his eyes on entering his little sitting room was a neatly wrapped parcel on the table. On the top of it reclined a dainty, snowy envelope. Mr. Strumley approached suspiciously. Then he recognized the handwriting and uttered an exclamation of joy. It was from Bettina.
Strumley, thought that he could handle the property to a good purpose. For the first time Mr. Edwards learned that his young client had a will of his own. After a few fruitless exhortations he rose to obey, but remarking: "Right much money in these hard times to withdraw in a lump from the bank."
At last through the meshes of the mad throng appeared the shiny pate of Mr. John Edwards. He uttered an exclamation of relief at the sight of his calm client. "Hope you got it before the storm broke?" Mr. Strumley greeted amiably. "S-s-sh!" cautioned the attorney dramatically. "I was about to go in search of you." Then he added in even a lower key: "Mr.
He made his living by lending money for much less. If dear Mr. Strumley would call at his office within two hours he should have it every cent just as soon as he could get a check cashed at the Commercial. Next the faithful machine whirled Paul to the rooms of his staid attorney and general manager, Mr. John Edwards. That elderly gentleman welcomed him with his nearest approach to a smile.
Stokes," he volunteered, "that the price is exactly the same you had proposed paying. At your convenience, of course, you can remit this amount to my attorney, Mr. Edwards." Mr. Stokes rose slowly. The flush had become apoplectic. "Mr. Strumley," he began, his large voice trembling, "this trick of yours is unworthy of an honorable man. Here, sir, take these papers and leave my office immediately."
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