The Avalanche - Gertrude Franklin Horn Atherton (free ebook reader for ipad .TXT) 📗
- Author: Gertrude Franklin Horn Atherton
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Ruyler, If His Mind Had Been Less Harrowed With The Looming And Possibly
Dire Climax Of His Own Secret Drama, Would Have Laughed Aloud At This
Melodramatic Entrance To The Grounds Of One Of His Most Intimate Friends.
He And Spaulding Had Walked From The Train, But They Were Not Detained As
Long As A Gay Party Of Young People From Atherton, Who Teased The Police
By Refusing To Present Their Cards Or Lift Their Masks. Ruyler Knew Them
All, But They Finally Sped Past Him Without Even A Glance Of Contempt For
Mere Foot Passengers, Even Though They Looked Like A Couple Of Dodging
Conspirators.
He Had Met Spaulding At The Station In San Francisco, And Private
Conversation On The Crowded Train Had Been Impossible. When They Had
Walked A Few Yards Along The Wide Avenue, As Brilliant As Day With Its
Thousands Of Colored Lights Concealed In The Astonished Pines, Ruyler Sat
Deliberately Down Upon A Bench And Motioned The Detective To Take The
Seat Beside Him.
"It Is Time You Gave Me Some Sort Of A Hint," He Said. "After All, It Is
My Affair--"
"I Know, But As I Said, You Might Not Approve My Methods, And If You
Balk, All Is Up. We've Got The Chance Of Our Lives. It's Now Or Never."
"I Do Not At All Like The Idea That You May Be Forcing Me Into A Position
Where I May Find Myself Doing Something I Shall Be Ashamed Of For The
Rest Of My Life."
Ruyler's Tone Was Haughty. He Did Not Relish Being Led Round By The Nose,
And His Nerves Were Jumping.
"Now! Now!" Said Spaulding Soothingly, As He Lit A Cigar. "When You Hire
A Detective You Hire Him To Do Things You Wouldn't Do Yourself; And If
You Won't Give Him The Little Help He's Got To Have From You Or Quit,
What's The Use Of Hiring Him At All?
"I Know Perfectly Well That Nothing But Your Own Eyes Would Convince You
Of What It's Up To Me To Prove--To Say Nothing Of The Fact That I Count
On Your Entrance At The Last Minute To Put An End To The Whole Bad
Business. For It Is A Bad Business--Believe Me. But Not A Word Of That
Now. You Couldn't Pry Open My Lips With A Five Dollar Havana."
"Well--You Say You Had A Talk With Madame Delano To-Day. Surely You Can
Tell Me Some Of The Things You Have Discovered."
"A Whole Lot. I've Been Waiting For The Chance. Not That I Got Anything
Out Of Her. She's One Grand Bluffer And No Mistake. I Take Off My Hat To
Her. When I Told Her That I Could Lay Hands On The Proof That She Was
Marie Garnett--Although Jim Had Married Her In His Home Town Under His
Own Name--And That She'd Gone Home To France With The Kid When It Was
Five, Taking The Cue From Her Friend, Mrs. Lawton, And Sending Word Back
She Was Dead--"
"You Were Equally Sure A Few Days Ago That She Was Mrs. Lawton--"
"That Was Just My Constructive Imagination On The Loose. It Was A Lovely
Theory, And I Sort Of Hung On To It. But I Had No Real Data To Go On. Now
I've Got The Evidence That Jim Garnett Died Two Months Before The Fire
Burnt Up Pretty Nearly All The Records, And That His Body Was Shipped
Back To Holbrook Centre To Be Buried In The Family Plot. You See, He Was
Sick For Some Time Out On Pacific Avenue, And His Death Was Registered
Where The Fire Didn't Go--"
"But What Put You On?" Asked Ruyler Impatiently. "I Should Almost Rather
It Had Been Any One Else. He Seems To Have Been About As Bad A Lot As
Even This Town Ever Turned Out."
"He Was, All Right, And His Father Before Him, Although They Came From
Mighty Fine Folks Back East. His Father Came Out In '49 With The Gold
Rush Crowd, Panned Out A Good Pile, And Then, Liking The Life--San
Francisco Was A Gay Little Burg Those Days--Opened One Of The Crack
Gambling Houses Down On The Old Plaza. Plate Glass Windows You Could Look
Through From Outside If You Thought It Best To Stay Out, And See Hundreds
Of Men Playing At Tables Where The Gold Pieces--Often Slugs--Were Piled
As High As Their Noses, And Hundreds More Walking Up And Down The Aisles
Either Waiting For A Chance To Sit, Or Hoping To Appease Their Hunger
With The Sight Of So Much Gold. They Didn't Try Any Funny Business, For
Every Gambler Had A Six-Shooter In His Hip Pocket, And Sometimes On The
Table Beside Him.
"Sometimes Men Would Walk Out And Shoot Themselves On The Sidewalk In
Front Of The Windows, And Not A Soul Inside Would So Much As Look Up.
Well, Delano The First Had A Short Life But A Merry One. He Couldn't Keep
Away From The Tables Himself, And First Thing He Knew He Was Broke, Sold
Up. He Went Back To The Mines, But His Luck Had Gone, And His Wife--She
Had Followed Him Out Here--Persuaded Him To Go Back Home And Live In The
Old House, On A Little Income She Had; And He Bored All The Neighbors To
Death For A Few Years About 'Early Days In California' Until He Dropped
Off. Her Name Was Mary Garnett.
"That's What Put Me On--The G. In The Middle Of The Name Of The Man
Madame Delano Married. I Telegraphed To Holbrook Centre To Find Out What
His Middle Name Was, And After That It Was Easy. I Also Found Out That He
Was Born In California, And I Guess That Old Wild Life Was In His Blood.
He Stood Holbrook Centre Until He Was Sixteen, And Then Homed Back And
Took Up The Trade He Just Naturally Had Inherited.
"I Figger Out That He Didn't Tell His Wife The Truth When He Married Her
Back There, Not Until He Was On The Train Pretty Close To S.F., And Then
He Told Her Because He Couldn't Help Himself. She Couldn't Help Herself,
Either, And Besides She Was In Love With Him. He Was A Handsome,
Distinguished Lookin' Chap, And He Kept Right On Bein' A Fascinator As
Long As He Lived.
"I Guess That's The Reason She Left Him In The End. She Stood For The
Gambling Joint, And, Although She Had A Cool Sarcastic Way With Her That
Kept The Men Who Fell For Her At A Distance, She Was A Good Decoy, And
She Looked A Regular Queen At The Head Of The Green Table. She Was Chummy
With Jim's Intimates, Two Of Whom Were D.V. Bimmer And 'Gene Bisbee, But
Even 'Gene Didn't Dare Take Any Liberties With Her.
"It Was Natural That A Woman Brought Up As She Had Been Should Have Kept
Her Child Out Of It, And I Figger That She Got Disgusted With Jim And
Came To The Full Sense Of Her Duty To The Poor Kid About The Same Time.
But She Didn't Go Until Jim Settled So Much A Month On Her Through Old
Lawton--Who Used To Amuse Himself At Garnett's A Good Deal In Those Days,
And Who Was One Of Her Best Friends.
"Well, She Also Got Garnett To Make A Curious Sort Of A Will, Leaving His
Money To James Lawton, To 'Dispose Of As Agreed Upon.' She Had A Thrifty
Business Head, Had That French Dame, And She Had Made Him Buy Property
When He Was Flush, And Put It In Her Name, Although She Gave A Written
Agreement Never To Sell Out As Long As He Lived.
"He Agreed To Let Her Go Because He Was Dippy About Another Skirt At The
Time, And, Besides, She Played On His Family Pride--Lineal Descendant Of
The Delanos, Garnetts, And So Forth. He'd Never Seen The Kid After It Was
Taken To The Convent, But I Guess He Liked The Idea, All Right, Of Its
Being Brought Up Wearing The Old Name, And Gettin' Rid Of Marie At The
Same Time.
"She Was Too Canny To Leave Him A Loophole For Divorce, Even In
California; But I Guess That Didn't Worry Him Much.
"If The Earthquake And Fire Hadn't Come So Soon After The Will Was
Probated There Might Have Been A Lot Of Speculation About It, Among Men,
At Least. Those Old Gossips In The Club Windows Would Soon Have Been
Putting Two And Two Together; But The Calamity That Burnt Up All The Club
Windows, Just Swept It Clean Out Of Their Heads.
"I Figger Out That Old Lawton Continued To Pay Madame Delano The Income
She'd Been Havin' Both From Jim And Her Properties, Out Of His Own
Pocket, Until The City Was Rebuilt And He Could Settle The Estate. He Had
To Borrow The Money To Rebuild The Houses Jim Had Put Up On His Wife's
Property, And When Things Got To A Certain Pass He Wrote Madame D. To
Come Along And Take Over Her Property. She'll Be Good And Rich One Of
These Days, When All The Mortgages Are Paid Off And Lawton Paid Back, But
It Was Wise For Her To Stay On The Job. Lawton Is Dead Straight, But His
Partner Is Sowing Wild Oats In His Old Age--Good Old S.F. Style, And I
Guess It Ain't Wise To Tempt Him Too Far. Get Me?"
"It's Atrocious!"
"Oh, Not Nearly So Bad As It Might Be. Just Think, If It Had Been
Gabrielle, Or Pauline-Marie, Or Even Mrs. Lawton. That's The Worst Kind
Of Bad Blood For A Woman To Inherit. Marie Garnett Hung On Like Grim
Death To What The Grand Society You Move In Pretends To Value Most, And
The Lord Knows She'll Never Lose It Now.
"Nor Need There Be Any Scandal To Drive Your Family To Suicide. The Thing
To Do Is To Hustle Madame Delano Out Of San Francisco. She'll Go, All
Right, With You To Look After Her Interests. She Don't Fancy Being
Recognized And Blackmailed, Or I Miss My Guess. You May Have To Pay
Bisbee Something, But D. V.'S Not That Sort, And I Don't Think Anybody
Else Is On. If They've Suspected They'll Soon Forget It When The Old Lady
Disappears From The Palace Hotel. Gee, But She Has A Nerve."
"She Is An Old Cynic. If She Had Any Snobbery In Her She'd Be Here
To-Night, Rubbing Elbows With The Women Who Never Knew Of Her Existence
Twenty Years Ago, Although Their Husbands Did. It Has Satisfied Her
Ironic French Soul To Sit In The Court Of The Palace Hotel Day After Day
And Defy San Francisco To Recognize Marie Garnett In The Obese Madame
Delano, Whose Daughter Is One Of The Great Ladies Of The City To Whose
Underworld She Once Belonged, And From Whose Filthy Profits She Derives
Her Income. Good God!"
He Sat Forward And Clutched His Head, But Spaulding, Who Had Drawn Out
His Watch, Tapped Him On The Shoulder.
"Come On," He Said. "Time's Gettin' Short. The Stunt Is To Be Pulled Off
Just Before Supper."
Chapter 12
I
They Walked Rapidly Up The Close Avenue--Planted Far Back In The Fifties
By Ford Thornton's Grandfather--The Blaze Of Light At The End Of The Long
Perspective Growing Wider And Wider. As They Emerged They Paused For A
Moment, Dazzled By The Scene.
The Original Home Of The Thorntons Had Been Of Ordinary American
Architecture And Covered With Ivy; It Might Have Been Transplanted From
Some Old Aristocratic Village In The East. Flora Thornton Had Maintained
That Only One Style Of Architecture Was Appropriate In A State Settled By
The Spaniards, And Famous For Its Missions Of Moorish Architecture. Fordy
Loved The Old House, But As He Denied His Wife Nothing He Had Given Her A
Million, Three Years Before The Fire Which So Sadly Diminished Fortunes,
And Told Her To Build Any Sort Of House She Pleased; If She Would Only
Promise To Live In It And Not Desert Him Twice A Year For Europe.
The Immense Structure, Standing On A Knoll, Bore A Certain Resemblance To
The Alhambra, With Its
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