The Sauk Centre herald., 1909-04-15
CHAPTER J..


What an ironical old world it was
There was a perpendicular wrinkle
about his nose, and his lips hat
thinned into a mere line which droopeC
at the corners. The drone OF type
writer in the adjoining room sound
ed above the rattle-tattle Of the street
below. Through the open windows
came a vague breath of summer redo
lent of flowers and grasses; for 1t was
but eleven o'clock of the morning, and
the smell of sun-baked brick and as
phalt had not yet risen through the
air. Far beyond the smoking, ragged
skyline Darlington could see the shift
ing, glittering river and the great
ships going down to the sea. Present
ly the ashes from his dead cigar fell
in a gray cascade down his coat and
tumbled across his knees, but he gave
no heed.
Ironical old world, indeed! Here,
suddenly and unexpectedly, he found
himself upon the battlefield of love
and duty, where all honest men find
themselves, sooner or later. To pit
the heart against the conscience, i'm
pulse against calculation! Heigh-ho!
Duty is an implacable goddess, and
those who serve her most Loyalty are
most ruthlessly driven. She buffets
us into this corner and into that, digs
pitfalls for the hesitant foot, and
crushes the vacillating.
AS all men will, Darlington set
about to argue down his conscience;
the heart is so insistent a counselor.
Why should he give up the woman he
loved, simply because duty demanded
he should? After all, was not duty
merely social obligation? What was
1t to him that the sheep were sheared? :?
Was it right that he, of all men,
should divide the house, throw the
black pail of dishonesty over it, de-
stroy his own happiness and hers,
when so simple thing as match
would crumble into nothingness this
monument to one mans greed and
selfshness? The survival of the fit-
test; If he put aside Self, who would
thank him? Few, and many would
call him fool or meddler. So many
voices spoke that he seemed to hear
none distinctly.
He alone had made these astonish-
ing discoveries; he alone had fol-
lowed the cunningly hidden trail Of
the serpent. He could stop where
he was and none would be the wiser.
To be sure, it was only a question Of
time when the scandal would become
public through other channels; but in
that event he would not be held re-
sponsible for bringing about the catas-
trophe Besides, the ways of the SER
pent are devious and many, and other
investigators might not come so close
to the trail.
He had gone about his investiga-
tions without the least idea where
they would lead him. At the begin
ming he had believed that the guilty
ones were none higher than petty off,
cials; but presently he found himself
going over their heads, higher and
higher, until, behold! he was at the
lair of the old serpent himself A
client had carelessly dropped bit
Of information, and it had taken seed
with this surprising result. Henry
Cavenaugh, millionaire promoter,
fnancier, trust magnates director in
. hundred money-gathering concerns;
Henry Cavenaugh, the father of the
girl he loved and who loved him!
Could it be he, indeed? 1t seemed in
credible.
1t was not case of misappropria-
tion of funds, such as a man may be
guilty of when temporarily hard
pressed. 1t was bold and fraudulent
passing of dividends that rightfully be-
longed to the investors; of wrongfully
issuing statements of bolstered ex-
penses, lack of markets, long strikes
(promoted by Cavenaugh and his as
sociatesD, insufficient means of trans
portation. An annual dividend of
seven per cent of many millions that
had been dishonesty passed over. The
reports that there would be no divi-
dends encouraged slump in the list
ed price of the stock, and many had
sold under par value, thereby netting
TO Cavenaugh and others several mil
lions. And the proof Of all this lay
In his hand!
1t had been a keen hunt Many and
many blind trail had he followed,
only to come back to the start again.
All that now remained for him to do
was to pass this document on to the
hands Of the intrepid district attorney,
and justice would be meted out to the
guilty.
Her father! The picture of him rose
suddenly and distinctly in his mind
Tall, powerfully built, hooked nose.
keen blue eyes, an aggressive chin, a
repellent mouth, Henry .Cavenaugh was
the personification of the modern Croe-
sus. Immutable in purpose, dogged in
perseverance, relentless enemy, a
Jesuit in that the end always justified
the means, he stood pillar in the
world Of finance, where there is
sometimes justice, but never any
mercy. Thirty-five years before he
had been a messenger in stock
brokers' Office. or his antecedents
nothing was known until he broke
one of the famous gold corners in the
seventies, when a handsome, ruddy.
Sheeked little Irishman bobbed up -