Rimrock Jones

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He paused and in the silence a typewriter began to clack with a fierce,
staccato note. It was Mary Fortune, writing her letter to Rimrock
Jones.

CHAPTER XXII

A FOOL

The big day came for which Rimrock had waited, the day when he could
strike his first blow. In his room at the Waldorf he had installed
special telephone connections, with a clerk to answer his calls; and
close by the table, where he could follow his campaign, a stock ticker
stamped away at its tape. It was the morning of the twenty-third of
December, and he had wired L. W. for his money. All was ready now for
the first raid on Navajoa and he went down to see Buckbee, the broker.

"Mr. Buckbee," he said when he had him by himself, "I just want to find
where you're at. You introduced me to Stoddard and, as it turned out,
we all of us made on the deal. But here's the question--if it came to
a show-down, would you be for Stoddard, or me?"

"Why, my dear friend Rimrock," answered Buckbee jovially, "I'm afraid
you don't get me right. That little deal with Stoddard was strictly on
the side--my business is to buy and sell stock. An order from you will
look just as good to me as one from Whitney H. Stoddard, and it will be
executed just as carefully. But if it's Navajoa you have on your mind
my advice is positively to lay off. I'll buy or sell as much Navajoa
as you want for the regular brokerage fee, but get this straight--when
you go up against Stoddard you stand to lose your whole roll. Now
shoot, and I give you my word of honor to execute your orders to the
letter."

"All right," said Rimrock, "sell ten thousand shares short. Dump 'em
over--I want Navajoa to go down."

"It'll go down," answered Buckbee as he scribbled out the order. "At
what point do you want me to buy?"

"Don't want to buy," replied Rimrock grimly and Buckbee shook his head.

"All right, my boy," he said debonairly, "there'll be wild doings this
day in Navajoa. But it's people like you that makes the likes of me
rich, so divvel another word will I say."

Rimrock returned to his room and sat watching the tape as the ticker
champed it out and soon he saw Navajoa. It had been quoted at
thirty-two and a half, but this sale was made at thirty. He watched it
decline to twenty-eight, and twenty-five, and soon it was down to
twenty. He called up Buckbee.

"Sell ten thousand more," he ordered and Buckbee went on with the
slaughter. Navajoa went down to eighteen and sixteen and then it
jumped back to twenty. Big buying developed, but still Rimrock sold
short and again Navajoa slumped. At the end of the day it stood at
twenty and he prepared for the next step in his campaign. He had
beaten Navajoa down to nearly half its former price and without parting
with a single share. He had at that moment, in stock bought and paid
for, enough to cover all his short selling--this raid was to call out
more. When stock is going up the people cling to it, but when it drops
they rush to sell. Already he could see the small sales of the pikers
as they were shaken down for their shares. The next thing to do, as he
had learned the game, was to buy in; and then hammer it again.

On the twenty-fourth, the day before Christmas, he bought till he could
buy no more; and still the price stayed down. It was the holidays
slump, so the brokers said, but it suited him to a nicety. The next
day was Christmas and he wired once more for his money, for L. W. had
not answered his first telegram; and then he went out with the boys.
Since his break with Mrs. Hardesty he had taken to dodging into the
bar, where he could be safe from her subtle advances; but on Christmas
eve he went too far. They all went too far, in the matter of drinking,
but Rimrock went too far with Buckbee. He told him just exactly what
he intended to do to Stoddard; which was indiscreet, to say the least.
But Buckbee, who was likewise in an expansive mood, told in turn
everything he knew; and the following day, as Rimrock thought it over,
he wondered if he had not been wrong.

Buckbee had assured him that the stock on the market represented less
than half of the Navajoa capitalization; and if that was the case it
was hopeless, of course, to try to break Stoddard's control. But,
strictly as a friend and for old time's sake, Buckbee had offered to
sell Rimrock's stock at a profit; he had even gone further and promised
to pass it on to Stoddard, who was in the market to protect his
holdings. At twenty-four, which was where it was selling, Rimrock
would clean up a tidy sum; and every cent of that absolute velvet would
come out of Stoddard's pocket. It was a great temptation, but as
Rimrock sobered he remembered that it was a fight to a finish. He had
set out to break Whitney Stoddard.

The next morning at ten he sat at his desk waiting expectantly for the
Stock Exchange to open. It was to have been his big day when, with
over a million dollars from his dividends, he had intended to buy in
Navajoa. But there was one thing that left him uneasy--his money had
not come. If it had been sent by registered mail the Christmas glut
would easily account for the delay, but three telegrams had remained
also unanswered. He pondered for a moment, whether to wire to Mary or
not, and then the telephone rang.

"Hello?" said a voice, "this is Buckbee speaking. What do you think
about the proposition I made?"

"What proposition?" demanded Rimrock and then he grunted intolerantly
as Buckbee renewed his offer for the stocks. "You must be drunk!" he
said at the end and a merry laugh came back over the 'phone.

"No, all joking aside--I'm sober now. What do you say to twenty-four?"

"Too little!" bluffed Rimrock. "I want at least thirty."

"Will you take that?"

"No!" replied Rimrock, "nor thirty-five. I'm in the market to buy!"

"Well, how much do you want, then?" began Buckbee eagerly, "it's all
the same to me. As long as it moves and I get my commission I don't
care who buys the stock. But I'll tell you one thing--you'll have to
put up more margin if you start to bidding it up. Twenty per cent., at
the least, and if it goes above thirty I'll demand a full fifty per
cent. You want to remember, Old Scout, that every time you buy on a
margin the bank puts up the rest; and if that stock goes down they'll
call your loan and you're legally liable for the loss. You'll have to
step lively if you buck Whitney H. Stoddard--he's liable to smash the
price down to nothing."

"I'll show him!" gritted Rimrock, "but I'll call up that bank first and
find out just how far I can go. A man like me, worth fifty millions at
least----"

"Ye-es!" jeered Buckbee, and as the broker hung up Rimrock called the
president of the bank. It took time to get him, but when Rimrock
stated his case he promised an immediate report. The answer came
within half en hour--he could borrow up to five hundred thousand.

"All right," said Rimrock, and calling up Buckbee he told him to go
ahead and buy.

"How much?" enquired Buckbee.

"Buy all you can get," answered Rimrock briefly and hurried off to the
bank.

"Now about this loan," said the president pleasantly, "I find we have
already given you money on your note up to nearly the entire five
hundred thousand. Of course there's no question of your ability to
pay, but wouldn't it be more businesslike if you could put up a little
collateral?",

"For instance?" said Rimrock and at the note of antagonism the
president was quick to explain.

"Of course you understand," he went on cordially, "you are good, as far
as I'm concerned. But we have such troublesome things as bank
examiners, and the law is very strict. In fact, a loan of half a
million dollars on the unendorsed note of one man----"

"How much do you want?" asked Rimrock and fetched out a great sheaf of
Navajoa.

"Well--not Navajoa," said the banker uneasily, "we have quite a lot of
that already, on brokers' loans. Mr. Buckbee, you know. But if you
would just put up, say two thousand shares of Tecolote----"

"No!"

"We could loan you up to two million."

The president paused and glanced at him mildly, but Rimrock had thrown
down his stock.

"No," he said, "you can take this Navajoa or I'll quit and go somewhere
else. I wouldn't put up a single share of Tecolote if you'd give me
your whole, danged bank."

"Very well," said the president with a fleeting smile, "we'll accept
your Navajoa. My secretary will arrange it--but mind this is on a call
loan! Give him credit for five hundred more," he added and the clerk
showed Rimrock out.

There are certain formalities that the richest must observe before they
can borrow half a million and it was nearly noon before Rimrock was
free and on his way to the hotel. He was just leaping out of his
taxicab when he saw Mrs. Hardesty reeling towards him.

"Oh, Rimrock!" she gasped, "I've had such a blow--won't you take me
back to my rooms? Oh, I can't explain it, but Whitney H. Stoddard is
trying to force me to give up my stock! That Tecolote stock----"

"Here, get into this taxi!" said Rimrock on the instant, "now where do
you want to go?"

"To the St. Cyngia on Ninety-fifth Street--and hurry!" she commanded;
and the chauffeur slammed the door.

"Now what's the matter?" demanded Rimrock hurriedly. "I haven't got a
minute to spare. Did you notice Navajoa? Well, I've got a buy order
in----"

"Oh, no! I've seen nothing--not since he sent me that message! It
seems he's back in town."

"Who? Whitney Stoddard? Well, let me get out then--I've got to get
back to that tape!"

"Oh, no!" she murmured sinking against him with a shudder, "don't go
and leave me alone. I need your help, Rimrock! My whole fortune is
involved. It's either that or give back the stock."

"What stock?" asked Rimrock, "that two thousand Tecolote? Well, you
just give that to me! Have you really got it, or are you just
stalling? Let me look at it and I'll see you through hell!"

"It's in my apartment," she answered weakly. "I'll show it to you when
we are there. Ah, Rimrock, something told me you would come to save
me. But--oh, I'm ready to fall."

She dropped against him and the startled Rimrock took her quickly
within his arm. They rode on swiftly and as she lay panting on his
breast she told him the story of her misfortune.

"I don't deserve it," she said, "to have you help me, because I started
to do you a wrong. I didn't know you then, nor your generous
heart--and so I made the agreement with Stoddard. I was to go to
Gunsight and get acquainted with you and get you to come back to New
York--and for that I was to receive two thousand shares of Tecolote
stock. Oh, not as a present--I'd never think of that--but far below
what they are worth. It would take all the money I had in the world
just to make a part payment on the stock. But I knew how wonderfully
valuable they were and so I took the chance."

She sighed and leaned against him closer while Rimrock listened eagerly
for the rest.

"Can you understand now why I've seemed worried, and anxious and why
I've concealed my affairs? I went there and met you, but when I
refused to betray you I found I was caught in a trap. Whitney Stoddard
is hounding you in every possible way to make you give up your mine,
and after I refused to give back my stock he set out deliberately to
ruin me!"

She shuddered and lay silent and Rimrock moved uneasily.

"What was it he wanted you to do?" he asked at last and she tore
herself swiftly away.

"I can't tell you--here. But come up to my rooms. I defied him, but I
did it for you."

She fell quickly to rearranging her hair and hat in preparation for the
short dash past the doorman and at the end she looked at him and smiled.

"I knew you would come," she said; and as he helped her out he thrilled
to the touch of her hand. At odd times before she had seemed old and
blase, but now she was young and all-alive. He dismissed the taxi
without a thought of his business and they hurried up to her
apartments. She let herself in and as she locked the door behind them
she reached up and took his big hat.

"You must stay a while," she said. "The servants are gone and I have
no one to protect me if they come to serve the papers. Just start the
fire--and if anyone knocks don't let them break down the door."

She smiled again and a sudden giddiness seemed to blind Rimrock and
make him doubt where he was. He looked about at the silken rugs and
the luxurious hangings on the walls and wondered if it was the same
place as before. Even when he lit the laid fire and sank down on a
divan he still felt the sweet confusion of a dream; and then she came
back, suddenly transformed by a soft house-gown, and looked him
questioningly in the face.

"Can you guess," she asked as she sat down beside him, "what it was
that he wanted me to do? No, not to betray you or get possession of
your stock--all he asked was that I should marry you."

"Marry me!" exclaimed Rimrock and his keen, staring eyes suddenly
narrowed as she bowed her head.

"Yes, marry you," she said. "That was what made it so hard. Did you
notice, when I stopped inviting you here? I was afraid, my Rimrock; I
was afraid I might forget and--marry you. That was the one spot where
Stoddard's plan failed, he forgot that I might fall in love. I loved
you, Rimrock, loved you too much to marry you, and so I broke up all
his plans. If I had married you, don't you see how easy it would have
been for me to get hold of your stock? And that girl out there--the
one I don't like--she would have thrown her vote to Stoddard. That
alone would give him control, they would have fifty per cent. of the
stock."

"No they wouldn't," corrected Rimrock, "not if you've got that two
thousand. That would give us fifty-one per cent!"

A shadow of annoyance passed over her face, as if some part of her plan
had gone wrong, and then her eyes took on a fire.

"'_Us_?'" she said. "Would you have married me, Rimrock? But surely,
not for the stock! Oh, I wish sometimes----" She stopped abruptly and
looked at him strangely and then she hurried on. "Ah, no," she sighed,
"that can never be--you are in love with that other woman--out there.
When you met her at the opera, you forgot all about me. You went off
and left me alone. If Whitney H. Stoddard had called me up then!" Her
eyes flashed dangerously and she looked away, at which Rimrock glanced
quickly at his watch.

"By--grab!" he exclaimed half-rising to his feet, "do you know it's
half-past twelve? Say, where's your telephone? I've got a deal on in
Navajoa and I've just got to find out where I am!"

She rose up suddenly and turned to face him with a look of queenly
scorn.

"I have no telephone!" she answered evenly, "and if I did have I would
not lend it to you. You're just like the rest of these men, I see; you
think in terms of stocks. I should have done as Stoddard said, and
paid you back for your rudeness. Do you know, Mr. Jones, that you
think more of money than of anything else in the world? Are you aware
of the fact that all the love and devotion that any poor woman might
bestow would be wholly wasted, and worse than wasted, on a miserable
stock-gambler like you! Ah, I was a fool!" she burst out, stamping her
foot in a passion; and then she sank back on the divan and wept.

Rimrock stood and gazed at her, then glanced absently at his watch and
looked about, shamefaced, for a 'phone. But in that elegant apartment,
with its rich furnishings and tapestries there was no place for a
crude, commercial telephone, and the door to the inner room was closed.
He turned towards the outer door, for his business was urgent, but she
had carried off the key. He stirred uneasily, and a shrewd doubt
assailed him for her weeping seemed all at once sophisticated and
forced; and at the moment she raised her head. One look and she had
cast herself upon him and twined her arms about his neck.

"I can't help it! I can't help it!" she sobbed convulsively and drew
down his head and kissed him. "I can't help it!" she whispered. "I
love you, Rimrock; I can't bear to let you go!"

She clung to him passionately and with tremulous laughter tugged to
draw him back to the divan, but Rimrock stood upright and stubborn.
Some strange influence, some memory, seemed to sweep into his brain and
make him immune to her charm. It was the memory of a kiss, but not
like her kisses; a kiss that was impulsive and shy. He pondered
laboriously, while he took hold of her hands and slowly drew them away,
and then his strong grip tightened. It was the kiss that Mary had
given him in prison, when she had laid her cheek against the bars!
That kiss had haunted him through the long months of waiting, and it
rose in his memory now, when perhaps it were better forgotten. He put
away the hands that still clung and petted and gazed fiercely into her
eyes. And the woman faced him--without a tear on her cheek for all the
false weeping she had done.

"How's this?" he said and as she sensed his suspicion she jerked back
in sudden defiance.

"A stock-jobber!" she mocked. "All you think of is money. The love of
a woman is nothing to you!"

"Aw, cut out that talk!" commanded Rimrock brutally. "Some women are
stock-jobbers, too. And speaking of stock, just give me a look at
those two thousand shares of Tecolote."

A sullen, sulky pout distorted her mouth and she made a face like a
wilful girl.

"You'd snatch them," she said, "and run away and leave me. And then
what would I say to Stoddard?"

"Are you working for him?" he asked directly and she threw out her arms
in a pet.

"No! I wish I were, but it's too late now. I might have made money,
but as it is I stand to lose everything."

"Oh, you stand to lose everything, do you? Well say, that reminds me,
I guess I stand about the same!"

He picked up his hat and started for the door, but she caught him by
the arm.

"You're going to that woman!" she hissed vindictively, "perhaps I can
tell you something about her. Well, I can!" she declared, "and I can
prove it, too. I can prove it by my Tecolote stock."

"You haven't got any stock," answered Rimrock roughly. But he stopped
and she drew back and smiled.

"Oh!" she said as she noted his interest, "you're beginning to believe
me now. Well, I can show you by the endorsement where she sold out to
Stoddard over a month before I came. She sold him two thousand shares
of Tecolote for exactly two million dollars--and that's why she left
when I came. She was afraid you would find her out. But you, you poor
fool, you thought she was perfect; and had left because her feelings
were hurt! But she couldn't fool me, I could read her like a book, and
I'll tell you what she has done."

"You'll do nothing of the kind!" broke in Rimrock savagely, "you'll go
and get me that stock. I won't believe a word you say----"

"What will you give me if I do?" she demanded coquettishly at the same
time backing away.

"I'll give you a nice, sweet kiss!" answered Rimrock, twisting his
mouth to a sinister smile. "And if you don't----"

"Ah, will you?" she cried as she started towards him and then she
danced mockingly away.

"You can keep it for her!" she flung back bitterly and passed out
through the inner door.

Like a lion held in leash Rimrock paced up and down and then he
listened through the door. All was silent and with a sudden
premonition he laid a quick hand on the knob. The door was locked
against him! He listened again, then spoke through the keyhole, then
raised his voice to a roar. The next moment he set his great shoulder
to the panel, then drew back and listened again. A distant sound, like
a door softly closing, caught his ear and all was still. He hurled
himself with desperate vehemence against the door so treacherously
locked and with a crash it leapt from its hinges and he stumbled into
the room. From where he stood Rimrock looked about in a daze, for the
room was stripped and bare. The table, the furnishings, all that had
made it so intimate when he had dined with the tiger lady before; all
were gone and with the bareness there came a chill and the certainty
that he had been betrayed. He turned and rushed to the outer entrance,
but as he laid violent hands on that door it opened of itself and with
such unexpected suddenness that he fell backwards on the floor. He
rose up cursing, for something told him whose hand had unlocked the
door; but she was gone and all that remained was a scribbled card in
the hall.

"Kiss your money good-bye," was written on its face and on the back:

"I hate a fool."

CHAPTER XXIII

SOLD OUT

What a fool he was and how much the tiger lady hated him Rimrock was
already in a position to judge, but the inner meaning of "Kiss your money
good-bye!" was still to be disclosed. As he dashed down the hall and out
into the street and into the first taxi that passed it seemed but a
cynical way of saying that his sole sweetheart was gold; but when he
reached his room and glanced at the tape its meaning was written plain.
Navajoa was quoted at six. He brushed aside his excited clerk and called
up Buckbee on the 'phone.

"What?" yelled Buckbee as he recognized his voice, "have you been here
all the time? My God, man, I've got the whole police department after
you! You've ruined me! I've gone to the wall! Yes, bankrupt, I tell
you, unless you go to the bank and put up collateral for my loans. Why
didn't you tell me you only had credit of a million dollars in all? You
said: 'Buy all you can get!' and by the gods they threw it in my face
with both hands! Hundreds of shares, thousands of shares! And then when
I called you up your clerk said you had gone. Well, I had my orders and
you can't say I weakened--I bought thirty-two thousand shares!"

"'Thirty-two thousand!' Well, what are you kicking about? That gives me
control of the mine. But say, what the devil does this ticker mean,
quoting Navajoa at six dollars a share?"

"It means!" shouted Buckbee, "that you bid up the market until I paid
forty-three for the last and then Whitney K. Stoddard dumped every share
he had and cut the ground out under your feet! You're obligated to make
up a total deficiency of nearly a million at the bank; your loans have
been called, and mine have been called, and the stock is forfeit for the
debt. You've lost your stock that you bought on a margin and unless you
can take up these loans, every blessed share of Navajoa will go to
Stoddard and his bank."

"To Stoddard! Well, what does that bank outfit mean by grabbing all my
shares? Ain't my name good for about fifty million? Did I ever default
on a debt? I'm going right down there and tell that president to give me
back every share, and if he don't----"

"Oh, now don't talk that stuff! Just go down and put up some collateral.
That's all that will save you--they've got the law behind them and
they're strictly within their rights. No, now listen! You borrowed a
half a million dollars at the bank this morning and put up your Navajoa
for collateral. It was worth twenty-four then, but now, by my ticker,
it's only five and a half. Can't you see where you are? Stoddard caught
you napping and he'll never let up till you're broke. You valued it at
thirty, but he'll keep the market down to nothing until you settle up and
liquidate those claims. Then the prices will soar, but you won't be in
on it. He's got you trimmed, and no mistake."

"But I don't see it!" came back Rimrock insistently. "I want every one
of those shares. And I've got the money--it ought to be here now--to pay
every cent I owe. Say, come on up, Buckbee, and help me straighten this
thing out--I was unexpectedly called away."

He hung up the 'phone and turned to the letters and telegrams that were
strewn about the desk. There were notices from the bank and frantic
demands that he put up more margin on his stock and a peremptory
announcement that his loans had been called and must be taken up by the
next day at noon--and a letter from Mary Fortune. He thrust it aside and
searched again for some letter or telegram from L. W., and then he
snatched up hers. There was something wrong and her letter might explain
it--it might even contain his check.

He tore it open and read the first line and then the world turned black.
The dividend had been passed! He hurled the letter down and struck it
with his fist. Passed! He turned on his clerk and motioned him from the
room with the set, glassy stare of a madman. Passed! And just at the
time when he needed the money most! He picked up the letter and read a
little further and then his hand went slack. She had voted against
him--it was her vote and Stoddard's that had carried the day against L.
W.! He dropped the letter into a gaping wastebasket and sat back
grinding his teeth.

"Damn these women!" he moaned and when Buckbee found him he was still
calling down curses on the sex. In vain Buckbee begged him to pull
himself together and get down to figures and facts, he brushed all the
papers in a pile before him and told him to do it himself. Buckbee made
memoranda and called up the bank, and then called up Stoddard himself;
and still Rimrock sat cursing his luck. Even when Buckbee began to read
the final statement his mind was far away--all he heard was the lump sum
he owed, a matter of nearly a million.

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