XIX
When they found out how much the buried silver was worth--the inventorywas very thorough in the matter of description, dates, and weights--Mr.Bob Jonstone burst out laughing. But Colonel Meredith, althoughdetermined to stand by his bargain whatever the cash cost, looked like aman who has just missed the last train.
"I haven't got that much money loose, Bob," he said, "but I can raise itin a few days and then we'll execute a bill of sale. Meanwhile, allow meto congratulate you on your accession to the aristocracy."
"Aristocracy? It's blood that counts--not money."
"According to the old democracy, yes. According to the new,distinguished people pay an income tax and common people don't. And you,a moment ago, before the valuation was completed, were a very commonfellow, indeed."
"Mel, I had no idea that old junk was worth so much."
"You hadn't? Well, it's worth more. I'm getting a bargain. Thank theLord you're a gentleman, so there's no danger of your backing out."
Jonstone seized his cousin's hand and pressed it affectionately.
"Mel," he said, "can you afford to do this thing? God knows the moneywill make all the difference in the world to me! But in taking it Idon't feel any too noble."
"It was always ridiculous for me to be rich and for you to be poor.That's done with. I'm still rich, thank God!--and you're well-to-do. Youcan travel if you like, breed horses, install plumbing, burn coal, andmarry."
"If I was sure that the silver would ever be turned up, I wouldn't feelso sheepish."
"As long as you don't look sheepish or act sheepish--suppose that now,after a slight fortification, we visit a tailor. It is necessary for youto dress according to your station in life."
Their first day in New York was immensely amusing to both of them.Meredith was coming back to it after a long absence; Jonstone was seeingit for the first time, and for the first time his pockets were full ofmoney that he did not owe. Now, New York is one of the finest summerresorts in the world. Do not pity the poor business man who sends hisfamily to the mountains for the hot weather, for while they are burnedby the sun and fed an interminable succession of blueberry pies, hebasks in the cool of electric fans and dines on the fat of the land. Hisbusiness may worry him, but there is no earthly use in his attending toit. That is done for him. He can skip away when he pleases for anafternoon's golf or tennis. Somebody's motor is always going somewherewhere there is pleasure to be found and laughter. The lights of LunaPark are brighter than the Bar Harbor stars, and the ocean which poundsupon Long Beach is just as salt as that which thunders against GreatHead--and about twice as warm. For pure torture give me a swim anywherenorth of Cape Cod. Merely to step into such water is like having one'sfoot bitten off by a shark.
It did not take Jonstone long to acknowledge that New York is evenbigger than Richmond, Virginia, and even livelier. The discovery of asuperannuated mosquito in his bathroom had made him feel at home, andthe fact that the head bartender in the hotel, though a native ofIreland, fashioned a delicious julep.
But his equanimity came very near to being upset in the subway. He felta hand slipping into his pocket and caught it by the wrist. He had agrip like looped wire twisted with pinchers. The would-be thief uttereda startled shriek and was presently turned over to a policeman.
All the way to the station-house Mr. Jonstone talked excitedly andtriumphantly to his cousin.
"Yes, sir," he said, "you had me groggy with your high buildings andyour Aladdin-cave stores and your taxicabs and park systems. But by theEverlasting, sir, this would never have happened to me south of theMason and Dixon line. No, sir; we may be short on show but we're long onhonesty down there. I don't even have to lock my door at night."
"That's because the lock's broken and you've always kept it shut with akeg of nails. There are more pickpockets in New York than in Charleston,but only because there are more pockets to pick."
"I don't get you," said Jonstone stiffly. A little later he did.
The culprit was asked his name by a formidable desk sergeant.
"Stephen Breckenridge."
Bob Jonstone gasped.
"Where do you come from?"
"Lexington, Kentucky."
Colonel Meredith let forth a howl of laughter. And after he had beenfrowned into decorum by the sergeant, he continued for a long time tolook as if he was going to burst.
For some hours Mr. Jonstone was moody and unamused. Then suddenly hebroke into a winning smile.
"Mel," he said, "I wouldn't have minded so much if he had been smartenough to get my money. It was bad finding out that he was a compatriotof ours, but much more to realize that he was a fool."