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Updated: May 25, 2025
Then came a voice louder than the others. "There's Breen talking to Minott and Biffy. He's in the Street; he'll know.... Say, Breen!" Jack rose to his feet and met the speaker half way. "What do you know, Breen, about that scoop in gold stock? Heard anything about it? Who engineered it? Charley Gilbert's cleaned out, I hear." "I don't know anything," said Jack.
"And you have walked the streets trying to beggar yourself, not to help MacFarlane but to keep Minott out of jail!" Amazement had taken the place of horror. "He was my friend, sir and there are Corinne and the little boy. It is all over now. I have the money that is, I have got something to raise it on." "Who gave it to you?"
It was better to crawl away into the tall grass there to nurse their wounds than to give the enemy a list of the killed and wounded. Now and then an outsider one who had watched the battle from afar saw more of the fight than the contestants themselves. Among these was Garry Minott.
Given a club chair, a package of cigarettes and some one to talk to him and Biff could be happy a whole afternoon. "Ah, Breen, old man! Come to anchor." Here he moved back a chair an inch or two with his foot, and pushed his silver cigarette-case toward the newcomer. "Thank you," replied Jack. "I've just dropped in to look for Garry Minott. Has he been in?"
"Come over here, Garry," he called, half rising to his feet to attract his friend's attention. Minott waved his hand in answer, waited until the point of the story had been reached, and made his way toward Peter's end of the table. "Garry," he whispered, "I want to introduce you to Mr. Grayson the very dearest old gentleman you ever met in your whole life. Sits right next to me."
"Why, I sent it to your uncle's house, and mailed it myself, just after you had gone out with Miss MacFarlane." "Yes, sir; but I am not at my uncle's house any more. I am staying with Garry Minott in his rooms; I have the sofa." Peter gave a low whistle. "And you have given up your desk at the office as well?" "Yes, sir." "Bless my soul, my boy! And what are you going to do now?"
I think Mac shot off his mouth too quick, and I told him so, but he was so het up he couldn't keep still. Why, them fellers has got more money than they can throw away. Mac sees his mistake now. Heard him tell Mr. Breen that Mr. Minott was the whitest man he ever knowed; and you bet yer life he's right." Nor was Murphy's eulogium the only one heard in the village.
It had not been many years, I say, since the Hon. Creighton Minott had thrown wide its doors to whoever came that is, whoever came properly accredited. It didn't last long, of course. Politics changed; the "ins" became the "outs."
She had gone to the city, so the nurse said, with Mr. Minott by the early train and would not be back until the next day. Until their return Jack and Ruth found their hands tied. On the afternoon of the second day a boy called at the brick office where Jack was settling up the final accounts connected with the "fill" and the tunnel, preparatory to the move to Morfordsburg, and handed him a note.
If there is anything of value in this Warehouse Company, Arthur Breen & Co. can carry the certificates for Minott until they go up and he can get out. If there is nothing, then the sooner Garry sells out and lets it go the better. Stay out, Jack. It's not in the line of your duty. It's hard on his wife and he is having a devil of a row to hoe, but it will be the best thing for him in the end."
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