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Page 11
His spirits sank as he did so. It was the same old game. A Mr.
Brian MacNeill, though doing no business with minors, was
willing--even anxious--to part with his vast fortune to anyone
over the age of twenty-one whose means happened to be a trifle
straitened. This good man required no security whatever; nor did
his rivals in generosity, the Messrs. Angus Bruce, Duncan
Macfarlane, Wallace Mackintosh and Donald MacNab. They, too,
showed a curious distaste for dealing with minors; but anyone of
maturer years could simply come round to the office and help
himself.
Ashe threw the paper down wearily. He had known all along that it
was no good. Romance was dead and the unexpected no longer
happened. He picked up his pen and began to write "The Adventure
of the Wand of Death."
CHAPTER II
In a bedroom on the fourth floor of the Hotel Guelph in
Piccadilly, the Honorable Frederick Threepwood sat in bed, with
his knees drawn up to his chin, and glared at the day with the
glare of mental anguish. He had very little mind, but what he had
was suffering.
He had just remembered. It is like that in this life. You wake
up, feeling as fit as a fiddle; you look at the window and see
the sun, and thank Heaven for a fine day; you begin to plan a
perfectly corking luncheon party with some of the chappies you
met last night at the National Sporting Club; and then--you
remember.
"Oh, dash it!" said the Honorable Freddie. And after a moment's
pause: "And I was feeling so dashed happy!"
For the space of some minutes he remained plunged in sad
meditation; then, picking up the telephone from the table at his
side, he asked for a number.
"Hello!"
"Hello!" responded a rich voice at the other end of the wire.
"Oh, I say! Is that you, Dickie?"
"Who is that?"
"This is Freddie Threepwood. I say, Dickie, old top, I want to
see you about something devilish important. Will you be in at
twelve?"
"Certainly. What's the trouble?"
"I can't explain over the wire; but it's deuced serious."
"Very well. By the way, Freddie, congratulations on the
engagement."
"Thanks, old man. Thanks very much, and so on--but you won't
forget to be in at twelve, will you? Good-by."
He replaced the receiver quickly and sprang out of bed, for he
had heard the door handle turn. When the door opened he was
giving a correct representation of a young man wasting no time in
beginning his toilet for the day.
An elderly, thin-faced, bald-headed, amiably vacant man entered.
He regarded the Honorable Freddie with a certain disfavor.
"Are you only just getting up, Frederick?"
"Hello, gov'nor. Good morning. I shan't be two ticks now."
"You should have been out and about two hours ago. The day is
glorious."
"Shan't be more than a minute, gov'nor, now. Just got to have a
tub and then chuck on a few clothes."
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