Ogden, you know. The scheme. The plot. The enterprise."
Ann found nothing to say.
"I am thoroughly in favour of the plan. So much so that I propose
to assist you by taking Jerry's place."
"I don't understand."
"Do you remember at lunch that day, after that remarkable person
had mistaken me for Jimmy Crocker, you suggested in a light,
casual way that if I were to walk into your uncle's office and
claim to be Jimmy Crocker I should be welcomed without a
question? I'm going to do it. Then, once aboard the lugger - once
in the house, I am at your orders. Use me exactly as you would
have used Jerry Mitchell."
"But - but - !"
"Jerry!" said Jimmy scornfully. "Can't I do everything that he
could have done? And more. A bonehead like Jerry would have been
certain to have bungled the thing somehow. I know him well. A
good fellow, but in matters requiring intellect and swift thought
dead from the neck up. It's a very lucky thing he is out of the
running. I love him like a brother, but his dome is of ivory.
This job requires a man of tact, sense, shrewdness, initiative,
_esprit_, and _verve_." He paused. "Me!" he concluded.
"But it's ridiculous! It's out of the question!"
"Not at all. I must be extraordinarily like Jimmy Crocker, or
that fellow at the restaurant wouldn't have taken me for him.
Leave this in my hands. I can get away with it."
"I shan't dream of allowing you - "
"At nine o'clock to-morrow morning," said Jimmy firmly, "I
present myself at Mr. Pett's office. It's all settled."
Ann was silent. She was endeavouring to adjust her mind to the
idea. Her first startled revulsion from it had begun to wane. It
was an idea peculiarly suited to her temperament, an idea that
she might have suggested herself if she had thought of it. Soon,
from being disapproving, she found herself glowing with
admiration for its author. He was a young man of her own sort!
"You asked me on the boat, if you remember," said Jimmy, "if I
had an adventurous soul. I am now submitting my proofs. You also
spoke highly of America as a land where there were adventures to
be had. I now see that you were right."
Ann thought for a moment.
"If I consent to your doing this insane thing, Mr. Bayliss, will
you promise me something?"
"Anything."
"Well, in the first place I absolutely refuse to let you risk all
sorts of frightful things by coming into this kidnapping plot."
She waved him down, and went on. "But I see where you can help me
very much. As I told you at lunch, my aunt would do anything for
Jimmy Crocker if he were to appear in New York now. I want you to
promise that you will confine your activities to asking her to
let Jerry Mitchell come back."
"Never!"
"You said you would promise me anything."
"Anything but that."
"Then it is all off!"
Jimmy pondered.
"It's terribly tame that way."
"Never mind. It's the only way I will consider."
"Very well. I protest, though."
Ann sat down.
"I think you're splendid, Mr. Bayliss. I'm much obliged!"
"Not at all."
"It will be such a splendid thing for Ogden, won't it?"
"Admirable."
"Now the only thing to do is just to see that we have got
everything straight. How about this, for instance? They will ask
you when you arrived in New York. How are you going to account
for your delay in coming to see them?"
"I've thought of that. There's a boat that docks to-morrow - the
_Caronia_, I think. I've got a paper upstairs. I'll look it up. I
can say I came by her."
"That seems all right. It's lucky you and uncle Peter never met
on the _Atlantic_."
"And now as to my demeanour on entering the home? How should I
behave? Should I be jaunty or humble? What would a long-lost
nephew naturally do?"
"A long-lost nephew with a record like Jimmy Crocker's would
crawl in with a white flag, I should think."
A bell clanged in the hall.
"Supper!" said Jimmy. "To go into painful details, New England
boiled dinner, or my senses deceive me, and prunes."
"I must be going."
"We shall meet at Philippi."
He saw her to the door, and stood at the top of the steps
watching her trim figure vanish into the dusk. She passed from
his sight. Jimmy drew a deep breath, and, thinking hard, went
down the passage to fortify himself with supper.
CHAPTER XII
JIMMY CATCHES THE BOSS'S EYE
When Jimmy arrived at Mr. Pett's office on Pine Street at
ten-thirty the next morning - his expressed intention of getting
up early enough to be there by nine having proved an empty
boast - he was in a high state of preparedness. He had made ready
for what might be a trying interview by substituting a
combination of well-chosen dishes at an expensive hotel for the
less imaginative boarding-house breakfast with which he had of
late been insulting his interior. His suit was pressed, his shoes
gleamed brightly, and his chin was smoothly shaven. These things,
combined with the perfection of the morning and that vague
exhilaration which a fine day in down-town New York brings to the
man who has not got to work, increased his natural optimism.
Something seemed to tell him that all would be well. He would
have been the last person to deny that his position was a little
complicated - he had to use a pencil and a sheet of paper to show
himself just where he stood - but what of that? A few
complications in life are an excellent tonic for the brain. It
was with a sunny geniality which startled that unaccustomed
stripling considerably - and indeed caused him to swallow his
chewing gum - that he handed in his card to Mr. Pett's watchfully
waiting office-boy.
"This to the boss, my open-faced lad!" he said. "Get swiftly off
the mark."
The boy departed dumbly.
From where he stood, outside the barrier which separated visitors
to the office from the workers within, Jimmy could see a vista of
efficient-looking young men with paper protectors round their
cuffs working away at mysterious jobs which seemed to involve the
use of a great deal of paper. One in particular was so surrounded
by it that he had the appearance of a bather in surf. Jimmy eyed
these toilers with a comfortable and kindly eye. All this
industry made him feel happy. He liked to think of this sort of
thing going on all round him.
The office-boy returned. "This way, please."
The respectfulness of the lad's manner had increased noticeably.
Mr. Pett's reception of the visitor's name had impressed him. It
was an odd fact that the financier, a cipher in his own home,
could impress all sorts of people at the office.
To Mr. Pett, the announcement that Mr. James Crocker was waiting
to see him had come like the announcement of a miracle. Not a day
had passed since their return to America without lamentations
from Mrs. Pett on the subject of their failure to secure the
young man's person. The occasion of Mrs. Pett's reading of the
article in the _Sunday Chronicle_ descriptive of the Lord Percy
Whipple affair had been unique in the little man's domestic
history. For the first time since he had known her the
indomitable woman had completely broken down. Of all sad words of
tongue or pen the saddest are these "It might have been!" and the
thought that, if she had only happened to know it, she had had in
her hands during that interview with her sister in London a
weapon which would have turned defeat into triumph was more than
even Mrs. Pett's strong spirit could endure. When she looked back
on that scene and recalled the airy way in which Mrs. Crocker had
spoken of her step-son's "best friend, Lord Percy Whipple" and
realised that at that very moment Lord Percy had been recovering
in bed from the effects of his first meeting with Jimmy Crocker,
the iron entered into her soul and she refused to be comforted.
In the first instant of realisation she thought of six separate
and distinct things she could have said to her sister, each more
crushing than the last - things which now she would never be able
to say.
And now, suddenly and unaccountably, the means was at hand for
restoring her to her tranquil self-esteem. Jimmy Crocker, despite
what his stepmother had said, probably in active defiance of her
commands, had come to America after all. Mr. Pett's first thought
was that his wife would, as he expressed it to himself, be
"tickled to death about this." Scarcely waiting for the
office-boy to retire, he leaped towards Jimmy like a gambolling
lamb and slapped him on the back with every evidence of joy and
friendliness.
"My dear boy!" he cried. "My dear boy! I'm delighted to see you!"
Jimmy was surprised, relieved, and pleased. He had not expected
this warmth. A civil coldness had been the best he had looked
for. He had been given to understand that in the Pett home he was
regarded as the black sheep: and, while one may admit a black
sheep into the fold, it does not follow that one must of
necessity fawn upon him.
"You're very kind," he said, rather startled.
They inspected each other for a brief moment. Mr. Pett was
thinking that Jimmy was a great improvement on the picture his
imagination had drawn of him. He had looked for something
tougher, something flashy and bloated. Jimmy, for his part, had
taken an instant liking to the financier. He, too, had been
misled by imagination. He had always supposed that these
millionaires down Wall Street way were keen, aggressive fellows,
with gimlet eyes and sharp tongues. On the boat he had only seen
Mr. Pett from afar, and had had no means of estimating his
character. He found him an agreeable little man.
"We had given up all hope of your coming," said Mr. Pett.
A little manly penitence seemed to Jimmy to be in order.
"I never expected you would receive me like this. I thought I
must have made myself rather unpopular."
Mr. Pett buried the past with a gesture.
"When did you land?" he asked.
"This morning. On the _Caronia_ . . ."
"Good passage?"
"Excellent."
There was a silence. It seemed to Jimmy that Mr. Pett was looking
at him rather more closely than was necessary for the actual
enjoyment of his style of beauty. He was just about to throw out
some light remark about the health of Mrs. Pett or something
about porpoises on the voyage to add local colour and
verisimilitude, when his heart missed a beat, as he perceived
that he had made a blunder. Like many other amateur plotters, Ann
and he had made the mistake of being too elaborate. It had struck
them as an ingenious idea for Jimmy to pretend that he had
arrived that morning, and superficially it was a good idea: but
he now remembered for the first time that, if he had seen Mr.
Pett on the _Atlantic_, the probability was that Mr. Pett had seen
him. The next moment the other had confirmed this suspicion.
"I've an idea I've seen you before. Can't think where."
"Everybody well at home?" said Jimmy.
"I'm sure of it."
"I'm looking forward to seeing them all."
"I've seen you some place."
"I'm often there."
"Eh?"
Mr. Pett seemed to be turning this remark over in his mind a
trifle suspiciously. Jimmy changed the subject.
"To a young man like myself," he said, "with life opening out
before him, there is something singularly stimulating in the
sight of a modern office. How busy those fellows seem!"
"Yes," said Mr. Pett. "Yes." He was glad that this conversational
note had been struck. He was anxious to discuss the future with
this young man.
"Everybody works but father!" said Jimmy.
Mr. Pett started.
"Eh?"
"Nothing."
Mr. Pett was vaguely ruffled. He suspected insult, but could not
pin it down. He abandoned his cheeriness, however, and became the
man of business.
"I hope you intend to settle down, now that you are here, and
work hard," he said in the voice which he vainly tried to use on
Ogden at home.
"Work!" said Jimmy blankly.
"I shall be able to make a place for you in my office. That was
my promise to your step-mother, and I shall fulfil it."
"But wait a minute! I don't get this! Do you mean to put me to
work?"
"Of course. I take it that that was why you came over here,
because you realised how you were wasting your life and wanted a
chance of making good in my office."
A hot denial trembled on Jimmy's tongue. Never had he been so
misjudged. And then the thought of Ann checked him. He must do
nothing that would interfere with Ann's plans. Whatever the cost,
he must conciliate this little man. For a moment he mused
sentimentally on Ann. He hoped she would understand what he was
going through for her sake. To a man with his ingrained distaste
for work in any shape the sight of those wage-slaves outside
there in the outer office had, as he had told Mr. Pett, been
stimulating: but only because it filled him with a sort of
spiritual uplift to think that he had not got to do that sort of
thing. Consider them in the light of fellow-workers, and the
spectacle ceased to stimulate and became nauseating. And for her
sake he was about to become one of them! Had any knight of old
ever done anything as big as that for his lady? He very much
doubted it.
"All right," he said. "Count me in. I take it that I shall have a
job like one of those out there?"
"Yes."
"Not presuming to dictate, I suggest that you give me something
that will take some of the work off that fellow who's swimming in
paper. Only the tip of his nose was above the surface as I passed
through. I never saw so many fellows working so hard at the same
time in my life. All trying to catch the boss's eye, too, I
suppose? It must make you feel like a snipe."
Mr. Pett replied stiffly. He disliked this levity on the sacred
subject of office work. He considered that Jimmy was not
approaching his new life in the proper spirit. Many young men had
discussed with him in that room the subject of working in his
employment, but none in quite the same manner.
"You are at a serious point in your career," he said. "You will
have every opportunity of rising."
"Yes. At seven in the morning, I suppose?"
"A spirit of levity - " began Mr. Pett.
"I laugh that I may not weep," explained Jimmy. "Try to think
what this means to a bright young man who loathes work. Be kind
to me. Instruct your floor-walkers to speak gently to me at
first. It may be a far, far better thing that I do than I have
ever done, but don't ask me to enjoy it! It's all right for you.
You're the boss. Any time you want to call it a day and go off
and watch a ball-game, all you have to do is to leave word that
you have an urgent date to see Mr. Rockerfeller. Whereas I shall
have to submerge myself in paper and only come up for air when
the danger of suffocation becomes too great."
It may have been the mention of his favourite game that softened
Mr. Pett. The frostiness which had crept into his manner thawed.
"It beats me," he said, "why you ever came over at all, if you
feel like that."
"Duty!" said Jimmy. "Duty! There comes a time in the life of
every man when he must choose between what is pleasant and what
is right."
"And that last fool-game of yours, that Lord Percy Whipple
business, must have made London pretty hot for you?" suggested
Mr. Pett.
"Your explanation is less romantic than mine, but there is
something in what you say."
"Had it occurred to you, young man, that I am taking a chance
putting a fellow like you to work in my office?"
"Have no fear. The little bit of work I shall do won't make any
difference."
"I've half a mind to send you straight back to London."
"Couldn't we compromise?"
"How?"
"Well, haven't you some snug secretarial job you could put me
into? I have an idea that I should make an ideal secretary."
"My secretaries work."
"I get you. Cancel the suggestion."
Mr. Pett rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
"You puzzle me. And that's the truth."
"Always speak the truth," said Jimmy approvingly.
"I'm darned if I know what to do with you. Well, you'd better
come home with me now, anyway, and meet your aunt, and then we
can talk things over. After all, the main thing is to keep you
out of mischief."
"You put things crudely, but no doubt you are right."
"You'll live with us, of course."
"Thank you very much. This is the right spirit."
"I'll have to talk to Nesta about you. There may be something you
can do."
"I shouldn't mind being a partner," suggested Jimmy helpfully.
"Why don't you get work on a paper again? You used to do that
well."
"I don't think my old paper would welcome me now. They regard me
rather as an entertaining news-item than a worker."
"That's true. Say, why on earth did you make such a fool of
yourself over on the other side? That breach-of-promise case with
the barmaid!" said Mr. Pett reproachfully.
"Let bygones be bygones," said Jimmy. "I was more sinned against
than sinning. You know how it is, uncle Pete!" Mr. Pett started
violently, but said nothing. "You try out of pure goodness of
heart to scatter light and sweetness and protect the poor
working-girl - like Heaven - and brighten up her lot and so on, and
she turns right around and soaks it to you good! And anyway she
wasn't a barmaid. She worked in a florist's shop."
"I don't see that that makes any difference."
"All the difference in the world, all the difference between the
sordid and the poetical. I don't know if you have ever
experienced the hypnotic intoxication of a florist's shop? Take
it from me, uncle Pete, any girl can look an angel as long as she
is surrounded by choice blooms. I couldn't help myself. I wasn't
responsible. I only woke up when I met her outside. But all that
sort of thing is different now. I am another man. Sober, steady,
serious-minded!"
Mr. Pett had taken the receiver from the telephone and was
talking to some one. The buzzing of a feminine voice came to
Jimmy's ears. Mr. Pett hung up the receiver.
"Your aunt says we are to come up at once."
"I'm ready. And it will be a good excuse for you to knock off
work. I bet you're glad I came! Does the carriage await or shall
we take the subway?"
"I guess it will be quicker to take the subway. Your aunt's very
surprised that you are here, and very pleased."
"I'm making everybody happy to-day."
Mr. Pett was looking at him in a meditative way. Jimmy caught his
eye.
"You're registering something, uncle Pete, and I don't know what
it is. Why the glance?"
"I was just thinking of something."
"Jimmy," prompted his nephew.
"Eh?"
"Add the word Jimmy to your remarks. It will help me to feel at
home and enable me to overcome my shyness."
Mr. Pett chuckled.
"Shyness! If I had your nerve - !" He broke off with a sigh and
looked at Jimmy affectionately. "What I was thinking was that
you're a good boy. At least, you're not, but you're different
from that gang of - of - that crowd up-town."
"What crowd?"
"Your aunt is literary, you know. She's filled the house with
poets and that sort of thing. It will be a treat having you
around. You're human! I don't see that we're going to make much
of you now that you're here, but I'm darned glad you've come,
Jimmy!"
"Put it there, uncle Pete!" said Jimmy. "You're all right.
You're the finest Captain of Industry I ever met!"
CHAPTER XIII
SLIGHT COMPLICATIONS
They left the subway at Ninety-sixth Street and walked up the
Drive. Jimmy, like every one else who saw it for the first time,
experienced a slight shock at the sight of the Pett mansion, but,
rallying, followed his uncle up the flagged path to the front
door.
"Your aunt will be in the drawing-room, I guess," said Mr. Pett,
opening the door with his key.
Jimmy was looking round him appreciatively. Mr. Pett's house
might be an eyesore from without, but inside it had had the
benefit of the skill of the best interior decorator in New York.
"A man could be very happy in a house like this, if he didn't
have to poison his days with work," said Jimmy.
Mr. Pett looked alarmed.
"Don't go saying anything like that to your aunt!" he urged. "She
thinks you have come to settle down."
"So I have. I'm going to settle down like a limpet. I hope I
shall be living in luxury on you twenty years from now. Is this
the room?"
Mr. Pett opened the drawing-room door. A small hairy object
sprang from a basket and stood yapping in the middle of the room.
This was Aida, Mrs. Pett's Pomeranian. Mr. Pett, avoiding the
animal coldly, for he disliked it, ushered Jimmy into the room.
"Here's Jimmy Crocker, Nesta."
Jimmy was aware of a handsome woman of middle age, so like his
step-mother that for an instant his self-possession left him and
he stammered.
"How - how do you do?"
His demeanour made a favourable impression on Mrs. Pett. She took
it for the decent confusion of remorse.
"I was very surprised when your uncle telephoned me," she said.
"I had not the slightest idea that you were coming over. I am
very glad to see you."
"Thank you."
"This is your cousin, Ogden."
Jimmy perceived a fat boy lying on a settee. He had not risen on
Jimmy's entrance, and he did not rise now. He did not even lower
the book he was reading.
"Hello," he said.
Jimmy crossed over to the settee, and looked down on him. He had
got over his momentary embarrassment, and, as usual with him, the
reaction led to a fatal breeziness. He prodded Ogden in his
well-covered ribs, producing a yelp of protest from that
astounded youth.
"So this is Ogden! Well, well, well! You don't grow up, Ogden,
but you do grow out. What are you - a perfect sixty-six?"
The favourable impression which Mrs. Pett had formed of her
nephew waned. She was shocked by this disrespectful attitude
towards the child she worshipped.
"Please do not disturb Ogden, James," she said stiffly. "He is
not feeling very well to-day. His stomach is weak."
"Been eating too much?" said Jimmy cheerfully.
"I was just the same at his age. What he wants is half rations
and plenty of exercise."
"Say!" protested Ogden.
"Just look at this," proceeded Jimmy, grasping a handful of
superfluous tissue around the boy's ribs. "All that ought to come
off. I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll buy a pair of flannel
trousers and a sweater and some sneakers, and I'll take him for a
run up Riverside Drive this evening. Do him no end of good. And a
good skipping-rope, too. Nothing like it. In a couple of weeks
I'll have him as fit as a - "
"Ogden's case," said Mrs. Pett coldly, "which is very
complicated, is in the hands of Doctor Briginshaw, in whom we
have every confidence."
There was a silence, the paralysing effects of which Mr. Pett
vainly tried to mitigate by shuffling his feet and coughing.
Mrs. Pett spoke.
"I hope that, now that you are here, James, you intend to settle
down and work hard."
"Indubitably. Like a beaver," said Jimmy, mindful of Mr. Pett's
recent warning. "The only trouble is that there seems to be a
little uncertainty as to what I am best fitted for. We talked it
over in uncle Pete's office and arrived at no conclusion."
"Can't you think of anything?" said Mr. Pett.
"I looked right through the telephone classified directory the
other day - "
"The other day? But you only landed this morning."
"I mean this morning. When I was looking up your address so that
I could go and see you," said Jimmy glibly. "It seems a long time
ago. I think the sight of all those fellows in your office has
aged me. I think the best plan would be for me to settle down
here and learn how to be an electrical engineer or something by
mail. I was reading an advertisement in a magazine as we came up
on the subway. I see they guarantee to teach you anything from
sheet metal working to poultry raising. The thing began 'You are
standing still because you lack training.' It seemed to me to
apply to my case exactly. I had better drop them a line to-night
asking for a few simple facts about chickens."
Whatever comment Mrs. Pett might have made on this suggestion was
checked by the entrance of Ann. From the window of her room Ann
had observed the arrival of Jimmy and her uncle, and now, having
allowed sufficient time to elapse for the former to make Mrs.
Pett's acquaintance, she came down to see how things were going.
She was well satisfied with what she saw. A slight strain which
she perceived in the atmosphere she attributed to embarrassment
natural to the situation.
She looked at Jimmy enquiringly. Mrs. Pett had not informed her
of Mr. Pett's telephone call, so Jimmy, she realised, had to be
explained to her. She waited for some one to say something.
Mr. Pett undertook the introduction.
"Jimmy, this is my niece, Ann Chester. This is Jimmy Crocker,
Ann."
Jimmy could not admire sufficiently the start of surprise which
she gave. It was artistic and convincing.
"Jimmy Crocker!"
Mr. Pett was on the point of mentioning that this was not the
first time Ann had met Jimmy, but refrained. After all, that
interview had happened five years ago. Jimmy had almost certainly
forgotten all about it. There was no use in making him feel
unnecessarily awkward. It was up to Ann. If she wanted to
disinter the ancient grievance, let her. It was no business of
his.
"I thought you weren't coming over!" said Ann.
"I changed my mind."
Mr. Pett, who had been gazing attentively at them, uttered an
exclamation.
"I've got it! I've been trying all this while to think where it
was that I saw you before. It was on the _Atlantic_!"
Ann caught Jimmy's eye. She was relieved to see that he was not
disturbed by this sudden development.
"Did you come over on the _Atlantic_, Mr. Crocker?" she said.
"Surely not? We crossed on her ourselves. We should have met."
"Don't call me Mr. Crocker," said Jimmy. "Call me Jimmy. Your
mother's brother's wife's sister's second husband is my father.
Blood is thicker than water. No, I came over on the _Caronia_. We
docked this morning."
"Well, there was a fellow just like you on the _Atlantic_,"
persisted Mr. Pett.
Mrs. Pett said nothing. She was watching Jimmy with a keen and
suspicious eye.
"I suppose I'm a common type," said Jimmy.
"You remember the man I mean," said Mr. Pett, innocently
unconscious of the unfriendly thoughts he was encouraging in two
of his hearers. "He sat two tables away from us at meals. You
remember him, Nesta?"
"As I was too unwell to come to meals, I do not."
"Why, I thought I saw you once talking to him on deck, Ann."
"Really?" said Ann. "I don't remember any one who looked at all
like Jimmy."
"Well," said Mr. Pett, puzzled. "It's very strange. I guess I'm
wrong." He looked at his watch. "Well, I'll have to be getting
back to the office."
"I'll come with you part of the way, uncle Pete," said Jimmy. "I
have to go and arrange for my things to be expressed here."
"Why not phone to the hotel?" said Mr. Pett. It seemed to Jimmy
and Ann that he was doing this sort of thing on purpose. "Which
hotel did you leave them at?"
"No, I shall have to go there. I have some packing to do."
"You will be back to lunch?" said Ann.
"Thanks. I shan't be gone more than half an hour."
For a moment after they had gone, Ann relaxed, happy and
relieved. Everything had gone splendidly. Then a shock ran
through her whole system as Mrs. Pett spoke. She spoke excitedly,
in a lowered voice, leaning over to Ann.
"Ann! Did you notice anything? Did you suspect anything?"
Ann mastered her emotion with an effort.
"Whatever do you mean, aunt Nesta?"
"About that young man, who calls himself Jimmy Crocker."
Ann clutched the side of the chair.
"Who calls himself Jimmy Crocker? I don't understand."
Ann tried to laugh. It seemed to her an age before she produced
any sound at all, and when it came it was quite unlike a laugh.
"What put that idea into your head? Surely, if he says he is
Jimmy Crocker, it's rather absurd to doubt him, isn't it? How
could anybody except Jimmy Crocker know that you were anxious to
get Jimmy Crocker over here? You didn't tell any one, did you?"
This reasoning shook Mrs. Pett a little, but she did not intend
to abandon a perfectly good suspicion merely because it began to
seem unreasonable.
"They have their spies everywhere," she said doggedly.
"Who have?"
"The Secret Service people from other countries. Lord Wisbeach
was telling me about it yesterday. He said that I ought to
suspect everybody. He said that an attempt might be made on
Willie's invention at any moment now."
"He was joking."
"He was not. I have never seen any one so serious. He said that I
ought to regard every fresh person who came into the house as a
possible criminal."
"Well, that guy's fresh enough," muttered Ogden from the settee.
Mrs. Pett started.
"Ogden! I had forgotten that you were there." She uttered a cry
of horror, as the fact of his presence started a new train of
thought. "Why, this man may have come to kidnap you! I never
thought of that."
Ann felt it time to intervene. Mrs. Pett was hovering much too
near the truth for comfort. "You mustn't imagine things, aunt
Nesta. I believe it comes from writing the sort of stories you
do. Surely, it is impossible for this man to be an impostor. How
would he dare take such a risk? He must know that you could
detect him at any moment by cabling over to Mrs. Crocker to ask
if her step-son was really in America."
It was a bold stroke, for it suggested a plan of action which, if
followed, would mean ruin for her schemes, but Ann could not
refrain from chancing it. She wanted to know whether her aunt had
any intention of asking Mrs. Crocker for information, or whether
the feud was too bitter for her pride to allow her to communicate
with her sister in any way. She breathed again as Mrs. Pett
stiffened grimly in her chair.
"I should not dream of cabling to Eugenia."
"I quite understand that," said Ann. "But an impostor would not
know that you felt like that, would he?"
"I see what you mean."
Ann relaxed again. The relief was, however, only momentary.
"I cannot understand, though," said Mrs. Pett, "why your uncle
should have been so positive that he saw this young man on the
_Atlantic_."
"Just a chance resemblance, I suppose. Why, uncle Peter said he
saw the man whom he imagined was like Jimmy Crocker talking to
me. If there had been any real resemblance, shouldn't I have seen
it before uncle Peter?"
Assistance came from an unexpected quarter.
"I know the chap uncle Peter meant," said Ogden. "He wasn't like
this guy at all."
Ann was too grateful for the help to feel astonished at it. Her
mind, dwelling for a mere instant on the matter, decided that
Ogden must have seen her on deck with somebody else than Jimmy.
She had certainly not lacked during the voyage for those who
sought her society.
Mrs. Pett seemed to be impressed.
"I may be letting my imagination run away with me," she said.
"Of course you are, aunt Nesta," said Ann thankfully. "You don't
realise what a vivid imagination you have got. When I was typing
that last story of yours, I was simply astounded at the ideas you
had thought of. I remember saying so to uncle Peter. You can't
expect to have a wonderful imagination like yours and not imagine
things, can you?"
Mrs. Pett smiled demurely. She looked hopefully at her niece,
waiting for more, but Ann had said her say.
"You are perfectly right, my dear child," she said when she was
quite sure the eulogy was not to be resumed. "No doubt I have
been foolish to suspect this young man. But Lord Wisbeach's words
naturally acted more strongly on a mind like mine than they would
have done in the case of another woman."
"Of course," said Ann.
She was feeling quite happy now. It had been tense while it had
lasted, but everything was all right now.
"And, fortunately," said Mrs. Pett, "there is a way by which we
can find out for certain if the young man is really James
Crocker."
Ann became rigid again.
"A way? What way?"
"Why, don't you remember, my dear, that Skinner has known James
Crocker for years."
"Skinner?"
The name sounded familiar, but in the stress of the moment Ann
could not identify it.
"My new butler. He came to me straight from Eugenia. It was he
who let us in when we called at her house. Nobody could know
better than he whether this person is really James Crocker or
not."
Ann felt as if she had struggled to the limit of her endurance.
She was not prepared to cope with this unexpected blow. She had
not the strength to rally under it. Dully she perceived that her
schemes must be dismissed as a failure before they had had a
chance of success. Her accomplice must not return to the house to
be exposed. She saw that clearly enough. If he came back, he
would walk straight into a trap. She rose quickly. She must warn
him. She must intercept him before he arrived - and he might
arrive at any moment now.
"Of course," she said, steadying herself with an effort, "I never
thought of that. That makes it all simple. . . . I hope lunch
won't be late. I'm hungry."
She sauntered to the door, but, directly she had closed it behind
her, ran to her room, snatched up a hat, and rushed downstairs
and out into Riverside Drive. Just as she reached the street,
Jimmy turned the corner. She ran towards him, holding up her
hands.
CHAPTER XIV
LORD WISBEACH
Jimmy halted in his tracks. The apparition had startled him. He
had been thinking of Ann, but he had not expected her to bound
out at him, waving her arms.
"What's the matter?" he enquired.
Ann pulled him towards a side-street.
"You mustn't go to the house. Everything has gone wrong."
"Everything gone wrong? I thought I had made a hit. I have with
your uncle, anyway. We parted on the friendliest terms. We have
arranged to go to the ball-game together to-morrow. He is going
to tell them at the office that Carnegie wants to see him."
"It isn't uncle Peter. It's aunt Nesta."
"Ah, there you touch my conscience. I was a little tactless, I'm
afraid, with Ogden. It happened before you came into the room. I
suppose that is the trouble?"
"It has nothing do with that," said Ann impatiently. "It's much
worse. Aunt Nesta is suspicious. She has guessed that you aren't
really Jimmy Crocker."
"Great Scott! How?"
"I tried to calm her down, but she still suspects. So now she has
decided to wait and see if Skinner, the butler, knows you. If he
doesn't, she will know that she was right."
Jimmy was frankly puzzled.
"I don't quite follow the reasoning. Surely it's a peculiar kind
of test. Why should she think a man cannot be honest and true
unless her butler knows him? There must be hundreds of worthy
citizens whom he does not know."
"Skinner arrived from England a few days ago. Until then he was
employed by Mrs. Crocker. Now do you understand?"
Jimmy stopped. She had spoken slowly and distinctly, and there
could be no possibility that he had misunderstood her, yet he
scarcely believed that he had heard her aright. How could a man
named Skinner have been his step-mother's butler? Bayliss had
been with the family ever since they had arrived in London.
"Are you sure?"
"Of course, of course I'm sure. Aunt Nesta told me herself. There
can't possibly be a mistake, because it was Skinner who let her
in when she called on Mrs. Crocker. Uncle Peter told me about it.
He had a talk with the man in the hall and found that he was a
baseball enthusiast - "
A wild, impossible idea flashed upon Jimmy. It was so absurd that
he felt ashamed of entertaining it even for a moment. But strange
things were happening these times, and it might be . . .
"What sort of looking man is Skinner?"
"Oh, stout, clean-shaven. I like him. He's much more human than I
thought butlers ever were. Why?"
"Oh, nothing."
"Of course, you can't go back to the house. You see that? He
would say that you aren't Jimmy Crocker and then you would be
arrested."
"I don't see that. If I am sufficiently like Crocker for his
friends to mistake me for him in restaurants, why shouldn't this
butler mistake me, too?"
"But - ?"
"And, consider. In any case, there's no harm done. If he fails to
recognise me when he opens the door to us, we shall know that the
game is up: and I shall have plenty of time to disappear. If the
likeness deceives him, all will be well. I propose that we go to
the house, ring the bell, and when he appears, I will say 'Ah,
Skinner! Honest fellow!' or words to that effect. He will either
stare blankly at me or fawn on me like a faithful watchdog. We
will base our further actions on which way the butler jumps."
The sound of the bell died away. Footsteps were heard. Ann
reached for Jimmy's arm and - clutched it.
"Now!" she whispered.
The door opened. Next moment Jimmy's suspicion was confirmed.
Gaping at them from the open doorway, wonderfully respectable and
butlerlike in swallow-tails, stood his father. How he came to be
there, and why he was there, Jimmy did not know. But there he
was.
Jimmy had little faith in his father's talents as a man of
discretion. The elder Crocker was one of those simple, straight
forward people who, when surprised, do not conceal their
surprise, and who, not understanding any situation in which they
find themselves, demand explanation on the spot. Swift and
immediate action was indicated on his part before his amazed
parent, finding him on the steps of the one house in New York
where he was least likely to be, should utter words that would
undo everything. He could see the name Jimmy trembling on Mr.
Crocker's lips.
He waved his hand cheerily.
"Ah, Skinner, there you are!" he said breezily. "Miss Chester was
telling me that you had left my step-mother. I suppose you sailed
on the boat before mine. I came over on the _Caronia_. I suppose
you didn't expect to see me again so soon, eh?"
A spasm seemed to pass over Mr. Crocker's face, leaving it calm
and serene. He had been thrown his cue, and like the old actor he
was he took it easily and without confusion. He smiled a
respectful smile.
"No, indeed, sir."
He stepped aside to allow them to enter. Jimmy caught Ann's eye
as she passed him. It shone with relief and admiration, and it
exhilarated Jimmy like wine. As she moved towards the stairs, he
gave expression to his satisfaction by slapping his father on the
back with a report that rang out like a pistol shot.
"What was that?" said Ann, turning.
"Something out on the Drive, I think," said Jimmy. "A car
back-firing, I fancy, Skinner."
"Very probably, sir."
He followed Ann to the stairs. As he started to mount them, a
faint whisper reached his ears.
"'At-a-boy!"
It was Mr. Crocker's way of bestowing a father's blessing.
Ann walked into the drawing-room, her head high, triumph in the
glance which she cast upon her unconscious aunt.
"Quite an interesting little scene downstairs, aunt Nesta," she
said. "The meeting of the faithful old retainer and the young
master. Skinner was almost overcome with surprise and joy when he
saw Jimmy!"
Mrs. Pett could not check an incautious exclamation.
"Did Skinner recognise - ?" she began; then stopped herself
abruptly.
Ann laughed.
"Did he recognise Jimmy? Of course! He was hardly likely to have
forgotten him, surely? It isn't much more than a week since he
was waiting on him in London."
"It was a very impressive meeting," said Jimmy. "Rather like the
reunion of Ulysses and the hound Argos, of which this bright-eyed
child here - " he patted Ogden on the head, a proceeding violently