CHAPTER XVII.

  EVERY MAN TO HIS TRADE.

  After the bogus Lester Armstrong had dispatched his letter of acceptanceto Mrs. Fairfax he braced himself for what would happen next by taking adeep draught from the silver brandy flask which he kept in his breastpocket, though he realized that he had need of all his senses for anyemergency.

  During the next hour a score or more bookkeepers came to him withbills, letters and papers of all descriptions. To one and all he said,with a yawn, and very impatiently: "Leave what you have brought on mydesk; I'll look over it this afternoon."

  Then it occurred to him that such a great concern must have a generalmanager, and of course he would know something about the differentpapers these people had brought for his inspection and for him to passupon, which were like so much Greek to him.

  In answer to his summons, a tall, dignified, keen-eyed elderly manresponded--a man who struck considerable awe to Kendale's guilty heart.He said to himself that he wished to the Lord he knew this man's name tobe able to call him by it--but of course it couldn't be helped.

  "I have concluded to permit you to attend to these matters for me--getthrough them the best you can in your own way without bothering me withthem; do just as you would if I were away on a vacation, we will say,and left everything in your charge--all matters for you to settle as youdeemed best."

  The gentleman looked surprised and bowed gravely. "I can attend to mostof the documents connected with the firm, but there are a few matters Isee there that the parties interested might object to if they saw thename of Manager Wright attached instead of the name of the proprietor."

  "In that case, show me where you want me to sign, and I'll put down myname here and now, to end the matter."

  "Without first examining the documents carefully?" asked the manager, inamazement, thinking how slipshod in his business methods the newproprietor of the great establishment was becoming since he suddenlyfound himself raised from a poor cashier to a multi-millionaire, andthinking that good old Mr. Marsh would turn over in his grave if he hadheard that.

  "Thank Heaven all that is off my mind," muttered Kendale, breathingfreer as the manager left the office with the papers, adding,thoughtfully: "I hope I won't have to come in contact with that man veryoften. I felt so uncomfortable that it was by the greatest effort Icould control myself--keep from springing from my chair, seizing my hatand fairly flying out of this place.

  "His keen gray eyes seemed to pierce through and through me. I expectedevery moment to hear him shout out: 'Come hither, everybody--quickly;this man is not Lester Armstrong, striking though the resemblance is.Send for the police, that this mystery may be solved at once!'"

  He was not far wrong in his suspicions.

  Manager Wright had quitted the private office with a deeply knitted browand a troubled expression on his face.

  "The change in Lester Armstrong since yesterday is amazing," he mused."Long years of dissipation could not have told more on him than thechange these few hours have worked. He must have been out drinking andcarousing all night long--the odor of the room from the fumes of strongliquor was almost unbearable; it was blue with smoke, too, and LesterArmstrong always led us to believe that he had never smoked a cigar inhis life; and, worst of all, from a gentleman he has suddenly turnedinto a libertine, if I am any judge of features.

  "I cannot begin to account for the great change in him; it mystifies mequite as much as it did the store detectives and Mr. Conway, thecashier. It is all terribly wrong--somehow--somewhere. If it were notthat I have been here so many years I would tender Mr. Armstrong myresignation. I am not at all satisfied--and yet, yesterday, when Mr.Armstrong called me into his private office and we had that long talkabout the business matters of the house, I felt that all would go well;to-day he is like a different man--appears to have forgotten completelyall of the instructions he was so particular to give me. Yesterday hesaid: 'We will go over the books and papers very carefully, you and I,and see that every department is run as carefully and well asheretofore. I should not like any one in the establishment to feel thatmy taking possession will mean any change for them--save for thebetter.'

  "To-day he is as different as night from day; he does not know what hewants; he seems all at sea over the simplest details which he ought tobe decidedly familiar with." His musings were suddenly cut short by animmediate summons to return to the private office.

  It was with some misgivings that he entered his employer's presence thesecond time.

  The bogus Mr. Armstrong was almost invisible from a cloud of smoke froma freshly lighted Havana. He held the morning paper in his hand and wasperusing its columns with apparent avidity.

  "Wright!" he cried, excitedly, "how much ready money do you supposethere is in the safe of this shebang---hey?"

  It took Mr. Wright almost a moment to recover his usual calm dignity andmake answer:

  "Five thousand in cash, and there are negotiable notes amounting toupward of forty thousand more."

  "Are you sure of that?" queried Kendale, his excitement growing keener;"how do you know?"

  "You placed bills in my hands a few moments since which necessitatedconferring with Mr. Conway, the cashier, about meeting them."

  "Well, hold on--don't pay out any bills to-day; I want to make use ofthat money--two great opportunities here. Say!" he added in the nextbreath, "do you know anything about sailing yachts and trotters?"

  The question fairly staggered Mr. Wright, but he answered promptly:

  "Nothing whatever, Mr. Armstrong. I have never taken any interest inthem; it would be out of place for a man in my position to cultivate ataste for that which is so far beyond his means. I am glad to be able tosay to you, sir, that my tastes are simple and my wants few. I havenever been on board a yacht, nor have I ever ridden behind what you calla trotter."

  "Then you've missed a deal of sport," declared Kendale. "But that isn'twhat I sent for you to discuss. What I meant to say is that there's afellow from Newport gone all to smash. His fine yacht, the _Daisy Bell_,is to be sold at auction to-day, likewise the contents of his stables.There are two of his animals that are flyers--the Lady Albia andSterling. Why, the Lady has a record better than 2.05 1-2, open gaited,warranted sound, both of 'em, and no end of traps, tea carts, andbuggies. I tell you what, Wright, I must have that yacht and that team.You must go and bid them in for me--get 'em at any price, if you have torun it up to a hundred thousand, and you can even do a little betterthan that rather than see some other lucky fellow get 'em."

  Mr. Wright was staring at him as though he quite believed his employerhad gone suddenly out of his mind.

  "Well," said the bogus Mr. Lester Armstrong, coolly, "you heard mycommand to you, didn't you?"

  Without another word the general manager turned and with slow, unsteadysteps quitted his new employer's presence.

  "Heaven help me, that I should live to see this hour," he groaned; "ahundred thousand dollars--ten fortunes to a poor man likemyself--frittered away on a yacht and a pair of horses! Mr. Marsh wouldpitch him out if he could but know and come back long enough to do it.It spoils the best of 'em to have money thrown at them--to come into afortune that they haven't worked for. A yacht and a pair of horses! Whatwill people say to see me, a business man of supposed sense andjudgment, bidding at a public auction mart for anything like this?Heaven help me, I can see the finish of the time-honored dry goods houseof Marsh & Co., in which I have taken such a world of pride. But Isuppose I must do as he has ordered, no matter how galling it is to me."

  Mr. Wright had no sooner reached the auction mart than a telegram washanded him. It was from his employer, and read as follows:

  "There are also a pair of seal-brown pacers to be sold. Secure these inaddition to the others. Price must not stand in the way."

  David Wright crushed the telegram in his hands, and the first oath hehad ever uttered in all his life was ground out between his teeth.

  The yacht and two pairs of horses were spiritedly bid for b
y half adozen gentlemen, who were apparently eager to secure them.

  It was easy to see that the quiet, elderly business man, who always wenthigher than the others, was little used to such contests, but he securedthem at last for one hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars, and therewas more than one amused laugh in the auction room, knowing oneswhispering that he had paid three times more than the owner had beenasking for them.