Carolyn Wells
The Mystery of the Sycamore
CHAPTER I
THE LETTER THAT SAID COME
As the character of a woman may be accurately deduced from her handkerchief, so a mans mental status is evident from the way he opens his mail.
Curtis Keefe, engaged in this daily performance, slit the envelopes neatly and laid the letters down in three piles. These divisions represented matters known to be of no great interest; matters known to be important; and, third, letters with contents as yet unknown and therefore of problematical value.
The first two piles were, as usual, dispatched quickly, and the real attention of the secretary centred with pleasant anticipation on the third lot.
Gee whiz, Genevieve!
As no further pearls of wisdom fell from the lips of the engrossed reader of letters, the stenographer gave him a round-eyed glance and then continued her work.
Curtis Keefe was, of course, called Curt by his intimates, and while it may be the obvious nickname was brought about by his short and concise manner of speech, it is more probable that the abbreviation was largely responsible for his habit of curtness.
Anyway, Keefe had long cultivated a crisp, abrupt style of conversation. That is, until he fell in with Samuel Appleby. That worthy ex-governor, while in the act of engaging Keefe to be his confidential secretary, observed: They call you Curt, do they? Well, see to it that it is short for courtesy.
This was only one of several equally sound bits of advice from the same source, and as Keefe had an eye single to the glory of self-advancement, he kept all these things and pondered them in his heart.
The result was that ten years of association with Lawyer Appleby had greatly improved the young mans manner, and though still brief of speech, his curtness had lost its unpleasantly sharp edge and his courtesy had developed into a dignified urbanity, so that though still Curt Keefe, it was in name only.
Whats the pretty letter all about, Curtie? asked the observant stenographer, who had noticed his third reading of the short missive.
Youll probably answer it soon, and then youll know, was the reply, as Keefe restored the sheet to its envelope and took up the next letter.
Genevieve Lane produced her vanity-case, and became absorbed in its possibilities.
I wish I didnt have to work, she sighed; I wish I was an opera singer.
Cromwell, I charge thee, fling away ambition, murmured Keefe, his eyes still scanning letters; by that sin fell the angels, and its true you are angelic, Viva, so down youll go, if you fall for ambition.
How you talk! Ambition is a good thing.
Only when tempered by common sense and perspicacity neither of which you possess to a marked degree.
Pooh! Youre ambitious yourself, Curt.
With the before-mentioned qualifications. Look here, Viva, heres a line for you to remember. I ran across it in a book. If you do only what is absolutely correct and say only what is absolutely correct you can do anything you like. Hows that?
I dont see any sense in it at all.
No? I told you you lacked common sense. Most women do.
Huh! and Genevieve tossed her pretty head, patted her curly ear-muffs, and proceeded with her work.
Samuel Applebys beautiful home graced the town of Stockfield, in the western end of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts. Former Governor Appleby was still a political power and a man of unquestioned force and importance.
It was fifteen years or more since he had held office, and now, a great desire possessed him that his son should follow in his ways, and that his beloved state should know another governor of the Appleby name.
And young Sam was worthy of the peoples choice. Himself a man of forty, motherless from childhood, and brought up sensibly and well by his father, he listened gravely to the paternal plans for the campaign.
But there were other candidates, and not without some strong and definite influences could the end be attained.
Wherefore, Mr. Appleby was quite as much interested as his secretary in the letter which was in the mornings mail.
Any word from Sycamore Ridge? he asked, as he came into the big, cheerful office and nodded a kindly good-morning to his two assistants.
Yes, and a good word, returned Keefe, smiling. It says: Come. The secretarys attitude toward his employer, though deferential and respectful, was marked by a touch of good-fellowship a not unnatural outgrowth of a long term of confidential relations between them. Keefe had made himself invaluable to Samuel Appleby and both men knew it. So, as one had no desire to presume on the fact and the other no wish to ignore it, serenity reigned in the well-ordered and well-appointed offices of the ex-governor.
Even the light-haired, light-hearted and light-headed Genevieve couldnt disturb the even tenor of the routine. If she could have, she would have been fired.
Though not a handsome man, not even to be called distinguished looking, Samuel Appleby gave an impression of power. His strong, lean face betokened obdurate determination and implacable will.
Its deep-graven lines were the result of meeting many obstacles and surmounting most of them. And at sixty-two, the hale and hearty frame and the alert, efficient manner made the man seem years younger.
You know the conditions on which Wheeler lives in that house? Appleby asked, as he looked over the top of the letter at Keefe.
No, sir.
Well, its this way. But, no Ill not give you the story now. Were going down there to-day.
The whole tribe? asked Keefe, briefly.
Yes; all three of us. Be ready, Miss Lane, please, at three-thirty.
Yes, sir, said Genevieve, reaching for her vanity-box.
And now, Keefe, as to young Sam, Appleby went on, running his fingers through his thick, iron-gray mane. If he can put it over, or if I can put it over for him, it will be only with the help of Dan Wheeler.
Is Wheeler willing to help?
Probably not. He must be made willing. I can do it I think unless he turns stubborn. I know Wheeler if he turns stubborn well, Balaams historic quadruped had nothing on him!
Does Mr. Wheeler know Sam?
No; and it wouldnt matter either way if he did. Its the platform Wheeler stands on. If I can keep him in ignorance of that one plank
You cant.
I know it confound it! He opposed my election on that one point hell oppose Sams for the same reason, I know.
Where do I come in?
In a general way, I want your help. Wheelers wife and daughter are attractive, and you might manage to interest them and maybe sway their sympathies toward Sam
But theyll stand by Mr. Wheeler?
Probably yes. However, use your head, and do all you can with it.
And where do I come in? asked Genevieve, who had been an interested listener.
You dont come in at all, Miss. You mostly stay out. Youre to keep in the background. I have to take you, for were only staying one night at Sycamore Ridge, and then going on to Boston, and Ill need you there.
Yes, sir, and the blue eyes turned from him and looked absorbedly into a tiny mirror, as Genevieve contemplated her pleasant pink-and-whiteness.
Her vanity and its accompanying box were matters of indifference to Mr. Appleby and to Keefe, for the girls efficiency and skill outweighed them and her diligence and loyalty scored one hundred per cent.
Applebys fetish was efficiency. He had found it and recognized it in his secretary and stenographer and he was willing to recompense it duly, even generously. Wherefore the law business of Samuel Appleby, though carried on for the benefit of a small number of clients, was of vast importance and productive of lucrative returns.
At present, the importance was overshadowed by the immediate interest of a campaign, which, if successful would land the second Appleby in the gubernatorial chair. This plan, as yet not a boom, was taking shape with the neatness and dispatch that characterized the Appleby work.
Young Sam was content to have the matter principally in his fathers hands, and things had reached a pitch where, to the senior mind, the coöperation of Daniel Wheeler was imperatively necessary.
And, therefore, to Wheelers house they must betake themselves.
What do you know about the Wheeler business, kid? Keefe inquired, after Mr. Appleby had left them.
Genevieve leaned back in her chair, her dimpled chin moving up and down with a pretty rhythm as she enjoyed her chewing-gum, and gazed at the ceiling beams.
Applebys offices were in his own house, and the one given over to these two was an attractive room, fine with mahogany and plate glass, but also provided with all the paraphernalia of the most up-to-date of office furniture. There were good pictures and draperies, and a wood fire added to the cheer and mitigated the chill of the early fall weather.
Sidling from her seat, Miss Lane moved over to a chair near the fire.
Ill take those letters when youre ready, she said. Why, I dont know a single thing about any Wheeler. Do you?
Not definitely. Hes a man who had an awful fight with Mr. Appleby, long ago. Ive heard allusions to him now and then, but I know no details.
I, either. But, it seems were to go there. Only for a night, and then, on to Boston! Wont I be glad to go!
Well only be there a few days. Im more interested in this Wheeler performance. I dont understand it. Whos Wheeler, anyhow?
Dunno. If Sammy turns up this morning, he may enlighten us.
Sammy did turn up, and not long after the conversation young Appleby strolled into the office.
Though still looked upon as a boy by his father, the man was of huge proportions and of an important, slightly overbearing attitude.
Somewhat like his parent in appearance, young Sam, as he was always called, had more grace and ease, if less effect of power. He smiled genially and impartially; he seemed cordial and friendly to all the world, and he was a general favorite. Yet so far he had achieved no great thing, had no claim to any especial record in public or private life.
At forty, unmarried and unattached, his was a case of an able mentality and a firm, reliable character, with no opportunity offered to prove its worth. A little more initiative and he would have made opportunities for himself; but a nature that took the line of least resistance, a philosophy that believed in a calm acceptance of things as they came, left Samuel Appleby, junior, pretty much where he was when he began. If no man could say aught against him, equally surely no man could say anything very definite for him. Yet many agreed that he was a man whose powers would develop with acquired responsibilities, and already he had a following.
Hello, little one, he greeted Genevieve, carelessly, as he sat down near Keefe. I say, old chap, youre going down to the Wheelers to-day, I hear.
Yes; this afternoon, and the secretary looked up inquiringly.
Well, Ill tell you what. You know the governors going there to get Wheelers aid in my election boom, and I can tell you a way to help things along, if you agree. See?
Not yet, but go ahead.
Well, its this way. Dan Wheelers daughter is devoted to her father. Not only filial respect and all that, but she just fairly idolizes the old man. Now, he recips, of course, and what she says goes. So Im asking you squarely wont you put in a good word to Maida, thats the girl and if you do it with your inimitable dexterity and grace, shell fall for it.
You mean for me to praise you up to Miss Wheeler and ask her father to give you the benefit of his influence?
How clearly you do put things! Thats exactly what I mean. Its no harm, you know merely the most innocent sort of electioneering
Rather! laughed Keefe. If all electioneering were as innocent as that, the word would carry no unpleasant meaning.
Then youll do it?
Of course I will if I get opportunity.
Oh, youll have that. Its a big, rambling country house a delightful one, too and theres tea in the hall, and tennis on the lawn, and moonlight on the verandas
Hold up, Sam, Keefe warned him, is the girl pretty?
Havent seen her for years, but probably, yes. But thats nothing to you. Youre working for me, you see. Applebys glance was direct, and Keefe understood.
Of course; I was only joking. Ill carry out your commission, if, as I said, I get the chance. Tell me something of Mr. Wheeler.
Oh, hes a good old chap. Pathetic, rather. You see, he bumped up against dad once, and got the worst of it.
How?
Sam Appleby hesitated a moment and then said: I see you dont know the story. But its no secret, and you may as well be told. You listen, too, Miss Lane, but theres no call to tattle.
Ill go home if you say so, Genevieve piped up, a little crisply.
No, sit still. Why, it was while dad was governor about fifteen years ago, I suppose. And Daniel Wheeler forged a paper that is, he said he didnt, but twelve other good and true peers of his said he did. Anyway, he was convicted and sentenced, but father was a good friend of his, and being governor, he pardoned Wheeler. But the pardon was on condition oh, I say hasnt dad ever told you, Keefe?
Never.
Then, maybe Id better leave it for him to tell. If he wants you to know hell tell you, and if not, I mustnt.
Oh, goodness! cried Genevieve. What a way to do! Get us all excited over a thrilling tale, and then chop it off short!
Go on with it, said Keefe; but Appleby said, No; I wont tell you the condition of the pardon. But the two men havent been friends since, and wont be, unless the condition is removed. Of course, dad cant do it, but the present governor can make the pardon complete, and would do so in a minute, if dad asked him to. So, though he hasnt said so, the assumption is, that father expects to trade a full pardon of Friend Wheeler for his help in my campaign.
And a good plan, Keefe nodded his satisfaction.
But, Sam went on, the trouble is that the very same points and principles that made Wheeler oppose my fathers election will make him oppose mine. The party is the same, the platform is the same, and I cant hope that the man Wheeler is not the same stubborn, adamant, unbreakable old hickory knot he was the other time.
And so, you want me to soften him by persuading his daughter to line up on our side?
Just that, Keefe. And you can do it, I am sure.
Ill try, of course; but I doubt if even a favorite daughter could influence the man you describe.
Let me help, broke in the irrepressible Genevieve. I can do lots with a girl. I can do more than Curt could. Ill chum up with her and
Now, Miss Lane, you keep out of this. I dont believe in mixing women and politics.