NINE-NINETY-NINE.

New Zealand Mail, Issue 1533, 18 July 1901, Page 12

NINE-NINETY-NINE.

(By Walter C. Howden).

“Tir-r-ring-ing-ing !’’ . “Who the deuce can know I m m tne office to-night ?" muttered the stockbroker to himself, as he conned the after-hours “Exchange" slips. “Likely enough it is a mistake; they're always giving us a wrong connection." “Tir-ring-ing-ing!" faltered the bell, as if farid to disturb the worried-looking grey-haired man bending anxiously over the share list. Without a word, he turned mechanically to the instrument, gave an answering ring, and applied the receiver to his ear. This is what he heard : “Are you there? You are number nineninetynine, aren't you ? That you, Jack ? The number was the correct one; but the staid John Wardlaw wondered who could be taking this liberty with his name. It was quite a quarter of a century since he had been addressed By the familiar appellation. Before he had time to answer, the speaker rattled on in a manner that at one© betrayed ber sex, and revealed to the astonished listener that it was his own daughter who was at the other end. “Oh, Jack ! what am I to do? It's really dreadful! I can't—won't —stand it any longer! I’m going to do something desperate—l really am ! It's coming to-night —the crisis, I mean. The mater is to bring old Baldhead here after the church meeting, and papa's to give him his consent. Poor papa! he would do anything, I believe, for me, and yet without knowing it he’s helping them to break my heart. The mater makes him believe all sorts of things about Baldhead —that I love him, and dote on him, and that I want to help in his mission work, and all that rot; and then she watches me like a tiger to keep m© from telling papa the truth.' 1 “Phew!" It was an involuntary escape of steam from the stockbroker on his receiving this eye-opener. “Was that your whistle, Jack? I must b nervous—l thought it was some one doing it over my shoulder. Of course, there's no one in th© house ,and it is a .little bit eerie. You know, I thought papa was in the library, and <1 stol© in just to let him know how matters really were—yes, Jack, I really meant to tell him I would marry nobobdy but you—but he had gone out. Fancy the 'dear old man being kept at home from his whist club by the mater on purpose to mtet the minister and give his consent to—to—l tell you, Jack, it’s worse than slave-dealing! Isn't it horrid?" “Yes, horrid!" ‘'Oh what a fright you gave me, Jack! It was’ so like papa's voice. You re surely hoarse. Do take care of yourself for my sake. Do you know, J ack, if it wasn t for you life wouldn't be worth living? Dr course there's papa; but I see so little of him it's hardly worth counting. And yet he’s been everything to me since mamma died. Yet I daren’t speak to him, for the mater —what a job it is to have a stepmother—she says he is beihg worried to death, and if I bothered him about my affairs it would kill him altogether; and so b© doesn't know it’s all lies about my caring for the Baldhead. Do you knew — 3 re you listening, Jack?’' '‘lmphm!" “What a grunt! Well, do you know I have thought there was something troubling papa? Tell em truly, Jack, is there anything wrong with his affairs —I mean his investments, or whatever you call them—for the mater tried to frighten me to-day? She said that if I didn't agree to marry Baldhead—Mr Baldwin, you know .—I would be sure to rue it, that I ought to be glad of the chance of a_ conifortablo home in the manse as its mistress, since I might soon be out of a home altogether. ' John Wardlaw gave an involuntary groan on hearing this—it was like a dagger piercing his heart. “Oh, Jack, what was that? How queer you are behaving to-night! You have hardly ever spoken, except in grunts and groans, and you hav© given me no sweet words of sympathy, and —and I don't know what- I feel as if I could have a good cry and fall into your arms; but that's the bother of the telephone—it's so unfeeling, so cold and unsympathetic, and all that! Bnt really, Jack, what am I to do? What would you advise—tell me quick before the reverend Baldhead comes in with the mater?" “Elope!" said th« stockbroker, trying tq disguise his voice. “What? I can’t pick it up. Whatever is ado with you. Jack? You must be awfully excited! I never heard you speak so funny before. It’s just like the voice in a Punch and Judy show. Do try and speak more distinct, and, please, repeat that word —it sounded like 'rope’—surely you are not advising me- to hang myself ?" “I said ‘elope’—e-l-o-p-e—runaway marriage—Gretna Green —you understand?" “Oh, Jack, how could you! Are you really in your right mind to propose such a thing? Are you really Jack Lister—my own Jack? I'm beginning to doubt my Mr Wardlaw hastily hung up the receiver, and slid away. He had heard a key shuffling in the check-lock of th© outer door, and it was the work of a moment to turn off the electric light and retire to his own inner sanctum. “I understand now," he muttered; “that

last query explains the whole thing. So young Lister is after his master's daughter! Been making love to her by telephone on Wednesday nights when church meetings end whist have enticed away her proper guardians. Well, he is a decent enough young fellow, respectably connected, and so forth; but, I suppose, :.ike the rest of them , it's the money that's the bait. Poor Lucy! I don't suppose either h© or Mr Baldwin would stand by her when the ‘burst up' takes place. “Tir-r-r-ring-in-ing !" rang again from the telephone ,and the newcomer, who was the real Jack, answered it. The stockbroker in his own room meanwhile listened.

“Hillo! Yes —yes it is me, Lucy. No —why? Making game of you? Nonsense —it's the other way about ,as it always is; you’re making game of me. Positively you are! Bosh! I don’t believe a word of it—a mere delusion the situation’s getting on. to your nerves. You'll be seeing ghosts next. What? You're to see one to-night—oh! Baldhead—pretty portly ghost. He’s what? Going to propose —oh hang it, you don't say so! Spontaneous combustion! What was it? Nothing—merely a mild way of relieveing one's feeling without using bad language. Hillo!"

The young man looked round. “I'm sure I heard a door creak." he muttered; “I'll wager that bloomin' cat’s got into the office again." “Excuse me, Lucy, my attention was diverted for the moment looking for a ghost. No—didn't see it, but got a suggestion—how to dispose of Baldhead. Well, look here, Lucy, are you game? Well, he'll go down on one knee—no, .1 don't know if he will, with his black trousers—at any rate when he proposes accept him—proud of the honour .and so on—you know how to do it—awfully soft on him, you know—then burst this bombshell on him. Tell him —as a great secret, of course—that your father has dropped ten thousand pounds the last fortnight, and watch how he takes it. If he doesn’t lift his clerical hat and run I’m a Dutchman! True ? Of course it is true: did yo uever know me to speak other than the truth? “How the devil does he know?" muttered the stockbroker, inside his sanctum. “Though I daresay it's getting to be talked about pretty freely now. I onght to have caught that rain for he South tonight instead of waiting till to-morrow. But I thought it would ease my mind to have Baldwin and Lucy fixed up before going, and now this young jackanapes goes and nuts his foot in it. Gad, if that fellow Kermath cares to run it up to the hilt, it may spell five years’ penal for me! He wiped the clammy sweat from his brow ,and wished the telephone conversation was ended that he might escape from his den and his own thought. But th© two were not quite done, and John Wardlaw almost held his breath as the young man proceeded—“Lucy—Lucy dear, don't take on so! I wouldn't have told you if I thought it would have affected you that way. No; till yo ustop sobbing—l cannot stand to hear you. No—yes; I thought it would spoil Baldhead —I mean Baldwin's —chance of getting you. Me! I! Not a hit—not in the least. Not a hairsbreadth of difference to me, though you were as poor as a church mouse. But. you see ,you're not. Look here, Lucy! Are you composed enough to hear some other startling news? Got your smelling salts ready? Well, you'li observe I did not say your father had lost ten thousand—only dropped it! I have been fortunate enough to pick them up for him. It’s this way, Lucy. The war scare has sent down all the mining shares, and, along with the others, the Eannafoonzy Gold Mine suffered, though it had not much cause, not being in South Africa. Your father had a pretty large interest in this mine, and he got scared and began selling out; and he not only sold out, but he continued selling, selling in a falling market, till I saw clearly that he had fairly lost his head. Of course, he sold at first with the intention of buying in at a lower price, but he went beyond all bounds —plunged, in fact, in a way that made everyone who knew him stand aghast. Now, I had so great faith in this mine that I bought as fast as th© governor sold, so that had things kept normal there wouldn't .have been much to draw ou between the 'bulls’ and 'bears.' But it t o happened that these particular shares have made an extraordinary jump up owing to th 3 discovery of a new vein of ore, so that this 'runaway’ of your father’s, instead of plunging him into difficulties, out a tidy profit. I don't know if I've made it plain to you, ’Lucy, but one thing is plain, and that is—your father is needing a change."

A sepulchral voice sounding behind the young man almost made him tumble off the office stool on which he was perched. “Is this the God’s truth you have oeeu speaking, Lister, or are you fooling my daughter?"

‘ f l beg pardon. Mr Wardlaw/’ the young man wheeling round and seeing the drawn face of the agitated stcekbr >ker. “I don't know what you have nil heard, but certainly I have not been foiling Miss Wardlaw. As for the Rannafoonzys it is as I have stated. Instead of you being ruined by them, we will come out on the right side of the ledger, and I hope you will overlook the liberty I took of buying on the Exchange without your cognisance or permission." Mr Wardlaw was too overwhelmed to do more than grasp the young man s hand, and when at length he spoke his voice was thick with emotion.

“You do not know, Mr Lister, you cannot guess’ wha you. have saved to me—money, reputation, happiness. J can never repay yon. I can only recogn-se your worth to me by asking you to become my partner, so that iu future two heads will be better than one/’

“It is very kind of you, Mr Wardlaw," replied Jack Lister. “I feel highly honoured indeed, and would feel still mere so if I had your permission to ask your daughter to become my partner." “You have it, my boy, with pleasure, and I think you will ” ‘'Tirr-i>ring-in-ing!” “Who th© deuc© can this be now?" ex-

claimed Wardlaw, as the telephone bet! in* terrupted him. "Well? Yes, lam here.

His wife had rung him up. “You are a nice gentleman indeed, Mr Wardlaw. What are you doing in that stupid office to-night, and you so much, kanted at home. .The Reverend Tho>,ihilus Baldwin is here on a very, very im* portant errand, and there you are—out of the way, as usual, when you are so much wanted." “Jane, you can let the E«-v Theopliilns propose to Lucy or anything else. I'll bo quite pleased with her decision,” was Mr Wardlaw’s answer to his wife’s tirade. “John, you must remember that Mr Baldwin is a gentleman, and he mast speak to you first." ‘'Put him on nine-ninety-nine, then'!" Mr Wardlaw turned from the telephone, and, smiling to Jack, said—- “ That is yonr rival, Mr Baldwin, going to have his innings unless ou forestall him by ringing np Lucy. I am going downstairs to post a letter—am just in time for the pillarbox." The young man took th© hint, and tried to get connected, but was told it was engaged. So it was, and for what purpose Mr Wardlaw quite accidentally found out. On descending the stair he found, on a lower landing; an office door ajar and no light inside. This looked suspicious to the stockbroker. It might be a thief, it might only he the owner with the light put off preparatory to leaving the office. He would wait a minute. It was all right. He heard the owner at the telephone, and, strange to say, it was Wardlaw's house number that he asked to be put on to. Curiosity prompted the stockbroker to linger when he heard it was Mr Baldwin that was wanted, and remembered that the speaker and the minister were great friends. '‘Hillo ! That you, Baldwin ? Have you gone and done it? Eh? Not yet? Well, that's what I call a stroke of good luck. Why? Wait till you hear me. I've just learned the news at the Whist Club, and I hurried down her© hoping I would be in time to stop yon. Wardlaw's in a beastly mess, and is believed to be on the eve cf bolting. Stock Exchange defaulter, and worse—every on© connected with him disgraced—so, my boy, yon had better sheer off! He wasn't at the Whist to-night-first night he has missed it since the Wednesday Club was formed. Sorry for the girl, and all that, bnt yon have yourself to consider. No—l think so—that's the way to look at it, Baldwin. Precisely—your influence for good destroyed, quite so—Church first consideration—very well put. Awfully glad I've been in time. Oh, don't mention it! Glad to have been of service to you. Ta-ta!" The stockbroker bounded downstairs, posted his letter, and then hurried up to his office. “Have you got connected yet?" he inquired of Lister, “Just this moment," he repeated. ‘'lt was engaged." “I know," sai dthe stockbroker. “Will you please, let me have the first turn? Thanks/’’ “Are you there ? : Can I speak to Mr Baldwin? Oh, you are there! I’m Wardlaw. How are you ?” “Thanks, Mr Wardlaw; so sorry to hav© missed you to-night. Have spent a very delightful half-hour with your good lady. Am iust going, so I'll bid you good evening." “Hillo! don't be in such a hurry. Have you forgot that you wished to speak to me on a very important subject? Yon can. go ahead now, Mr Baldwin, I am listening.” V ‘'Excuse me, Mr Wardlaw, I've just time to catch my car—another time and I'll be most hapnv to ——" “Nonsense, Baldwin! Delays are dangerous! I know how j r ou feel—l had to go through it myself. Since yon are too bashful to breoach the subject I'll do it for you. You wish to marry my daughter. don’t you ?" “Well, the fact is, Mr Wardlaw, I—l—really—that is—lthink it would be advisable to postpone the subject." “No, this affair must be settled to-night —now—right away! Are you going to marry my daughter, Mr Baldwin? Yes or no ?’’ “N—no !*' Then I insist on you marrying her, Mr Baldwin!" “You are surely forgetting yourself, Mr Wardlaw. Insist! It is ridiculous-" “Ridiculous! Why? If I were dead, Mr Baldwin, wouldn’t you officiate at my funeral P' “With pleasure eh ahem that is I should feel ic my mounrnful duty to do so.” '‘Very well then, Mr Baldwin, I insist on you marrying my daughter for the same reason, that you are our minister. It will be your mournful duty to marry her to my partner, Mr Jack Lister ,and it may interest you to know that her dowry will be two thousand pounds. Good night." “Off nine-ninety-nine!’’