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Telephone over and ask Graydon to stop here on his way up this afternoon." The opening and closing of the outer door attracted their attention. Droom peeped forth. In spite of himself, Bansemer started and his eyes widened with sudden alarm. A glance of apprehension passed between the two men. "It's that Deever boy from Judge Smith's," reported Droom.
Eight of the dashing scouts who went out with Jerry Connell gave up their lives in exchange for the final victory. A small guard was left at the convent to care for the wounded, the bulk of the command hurrying off at dawn to search for the routed Filipinos. Graydon Bansemer was put in charge of the convent guard.
There is no mistake." The little room off the library was Jane's "den." Her father had a better name for it. He called it her "web," but only in secret conference. Graydon Bansemer lounged there in blissful contemplation of a roseate fate, all the more enjoyable because his very ease was the counterpoise of doubt and uncertainty.
"He's from Indiana," piped up a homesick ploughboy from the Hoosier State. "Then, it'll be a historical novel," said the gaunt young recruit from Grand Rapids. He was a cynic who had tried newspaper work, and who still maintained that the generals did not have as much intelligence as the privates. "I'll never forget Bansemer when he first enlisted," reflected Joe Adams.
The answer came to him at the club, that evening, while he played billiards with young Bansemer, who, even then was eager to be off to keep the promised appointment with pretty Miss Cable. The telegram which he opened while Graydon impatiently chalked his cue and waited for him to play was brief and convincing. It read: "Watch him, by all means. He is not safe, my word for it.
A look containing a curious compound of affectionate reproach and a certain senile gratification at being made the object of the boy's condescending raillery crossed Droom's countenance. Without, however, answering his question, he slowly and carefully closed the door, tried it vigorously, and joined Bansemer at the shaft. With Droom, words were unnecessary when actions could speak for themselves.
It suited his purpose to let her wonder, dread and finally develop the trust that her secret was safe with him. Occasionally, he had visited the Cable box in the theatre; not infrequently he had dined with them in the downtown cafes and at the homes of mutual acquaintances; but this was the first time that James Bansemer had enjoyed the hospitality of Frances Cable's home.
"Say, Mr. Rigby," said Eddie earnestly, "what sort of business does Mr. Bansemer handle?" Rigby had difficulty in controlling his expression. "I was wondering, because while I was there yesterday a girl I know came out of the back room where she had been talking to Bansemer. She's no good." "Very likely she was consulting him about something," said Rigby quietly.
The other bounded up the steps and rang the bell. When the servant opened the door Bansemer heard the new arrival ask for Cable, adding that he was from one of the newspapers, and that he must see him at once. Bansemer stood stark and dumb at the foot of the steps. The whole situation had rushed upon him like an avalanche.
The outer door opened suddenly and an old gentleman entered. "Is Mr. Bansemer here?" he asked, removing his silk hat nervously. "Yes, Mr. Watts. I'll tell him you are here." Watts, the banker, confronted Bansemer a moment later, an anxious, hunted look in his eyes. John Watts was known as one of the meanest men in the city. No one had bested him in a transaction of any kind.
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