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Updated: May 18, 2025
In spite of his contempt for the mere possession of money, in spite of his traditional contempt for Bivens's antecedents, character and business methods he found himself unconsciously paying homage to the power the little dark swarthy figure to-day incarnated.
In war it was fair to deceive, to march in the night, to attack when least suspected, to strike to kill, to destroy and lay waste the fairest countries and starve your enemy into submission. All this had flashed through Bivens's imagination when Stuart smiled, and in spite of his conscious dignity and power, he had fallen silent. The smile had made him nervous.
He was sure the letter had been turned over to a lawyer and the financier had never seen it. He called at Bivens's office three times and always met the same answer: "Mr. Bivens is engaged for every hour to-day. You must call again." On the fourth day, when he had stayed until time for closing the office, a secretary informed him that Mr.
The act was a breach of faith, utterly unwarranted by any known law of the game. But it was done. When the president of the company walked quietly into Bivens's office and made the announcement, for a moment the little dark man completely lost his nerve cold beads of sweat started from his swarthy forehead. "Are you joking?" he gasped. "Do you think I'd joke about my own funeral?"
The one overwhelming impression which Bivens's personality first gave was that he was made out of tobacco. His fingers were stained with nicotine, and his teeth yellow from it. He had smoked so fast and furiously the room was soon fog-bound. The boy looked up from his paper with a gasp and hastened inside to see if he could get rid of his obnoxious presence.
In five days the party had completed all preparations and Bivens's big steamer, the Buccaneer, slipped quietly through the Narrows and headed for the Virginia coast, towing a trim little schooner built for cruising in the shoal waters of the South. They had scarcely put to sea when Stuart began to curse himself for being led into such a situation.
I never knew how deeply and passionately before " she paused a moment, looking toward Sea-Gate. "Isn't that the anchorage of the Atlantic Yacht Club?" "Yes," he answered impatiently. "Then that's Mr. Bivens's yacht the big, ugly black one lying close inshore with steam up. He told me he would send her into dry dock to-day. He was talking last night of a wedding cruise in her to the Mediterranean.
Stuart protested vigorously, and a fight ensued in which he was compelled to thrash the ring-leader and rescue the victim by force of arms. From that day Stuart was Bivens's beau-ideal of a gentleman. He had tolerated rather than enjoyed this friendship, but it was so genuine he couldn't ignore the little dark-eyed taciturn fellow who was destined to play so tremendous a rôle in his future life.
Come, I'm ashamed of you. If Cal is calling, go to him at once. You must see him." "I can't! Tell him that I'm ill." "I won't lie to him in such an hour." Shivering in silence she led Stuart to the door of Bivens's room and fled to her own. On another magnificent bed of gleaming ebony inlaid with rows of opals, thousands of opals, Stuart found the little shrivelled form.
You know he is on Mr. Bivens's black list." "I'd forgotten that," he answered regretfully. "I'd like awfully for you to meet Harriet. I'm sure you'd like her." Nan smiled. "I could see she likes you. I don't think she took a fancy to me, however." "Nonsense, Nan." he said, with annoyance. "She couldn't have seen you. I didn't know she was here until she kissed her father."
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