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Updated: May 25, 2025
She turned and fled out of the room, past the astonished clerk, into the lift, and was downstairs on the main floor before she remembered where she was, what she had done. The clerk, after gazing at her retreating form, hurried into the inner office. "Young woman hasn't bolted with anything, eh?" he asked. Mr. Cruxhall smiled wickedly. "Why, no," he replied, "I guess she'll come back!"
"It is very bad indeed," she answered, looking at him quietly, "or you know that I should not have come to you." Mr. Cruxhall smiled. "I remember the last time we talked together," he said, "we didn't get on very well. Too high and mighty in those days, weren't you, Miss Beatrice? Wouldn't have anything to say to a bad lot like Anthony Cruxhall. You're having to come to it, eh?"
I'd like to talk some about that trip. I'm interested in the Syndicate." Tavernake shook his head. "I've had enough of work for a time," he said. "Besides, I couldn't talk about it till after my report to the meeting to-morrow." "Just a few words," Mr. Cruxhall persisted. "We'll have a bottle of champagne, eh?"
"I have not a cent in the world, Mr. Cruxhall," she faltered, "I cannot get an engagement, I have been turned out of my rooms, and I am hungry. My father always told me that you would be a friend if at any time it happened that I needed help. I am very sorry to have to come and beg, yet that is what I am doing.
Will you lend or give me ten or twenty dollars, so that I can go on for a little longer? Or will you help me to get a place among some of your theatrical people?" Mr. Cruxhall puffed steadily at his cigar for a moment, and leaning back in his chair thrust his hand into his trousers' pocket. "So bad as that, is it?" he remarked. "So bad as that, eh?"
"I am afraid that I was almost too confident," he answered. "But certainly we have been quite fortunate." One of Elizabeth's companions intervened he was the one who had pricked up his ears at the mention of the Manhattan Syndicate. "Say, Elizabeth," he remarked, "I'd like to meet your friend." Elizabeth, with a frown, performed the introduction. "Mr. Anthony Cruxhall Mr. Tavernake!" Mr.
A very superior young man bade her enter and inquired her business. "I wish to see Mr. Cruxhall for a moment, privately," she said. "I shall not detain him for more than a minute. My name is Franklin Miss Beatrice Franklin." The young man's lips seemed about to shape themselves into a whistle, but something in the girl's face made him change his mind. "I guess the boss is in," he admitted.
Beatrice went in bravely enough, but her knees began to tremble when she found herself in the presence of the man she had come to visit. Mr. Anthony Cruxhall was not a pleasant-looking person. His cheeks were fat and puffy, he wore a diamond ring upon the finger of his too-white hand, and a diamond pin in his somewhat flashily arranged necktie.
Cruxhall held out a fat white hand, on the little finger of which glittered a big diamond ring. "Say, are you the Mr. Tavernake that was surveyor to the prospecting party sent out by the Manhattan Syndicate?" he inquired. "I was," Tavernake admitted, briefly. "I still am, I hope." "Then you're just the man I was hoping to meet," Mr. Cruxhall declared. "Won't you sit down with us right here?
When she thought, though, what a poor asset her appearance had been, the color flamed in her cheeks. In Broadway she made her way to a very magnificent block of buildings, and passing inside took the lift to the seventh floor. Here she got out and knocked timidly at a glass-paneled door, on which was inscribed the name of Mr. Anthony Cruxhall.
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