Holocaust House | Page 5

of mine?"
Toggery sat down weakly on one of the stools. "Doan, now be reasonable. Haven't you any regard for my health and well-being? Do you want to turn me into a nervous wreck? I have a very important job for you, and I've been hunting you high and low for three days, and when I find you I'm greeted with insolence, evasion and double-talk. Do you know how to ski?"
"Pardon me," said Doan. "I thought you asked me if I knew how to ski."
"I did. Can you use skis or snow-shoes or ice skates?"
"No," said Doan.
"Then you have a half-hour to learn. Here's your railroad ticket. Your train leaves from the Union Station at two-thirty. Get your heavy underwear and your woolen socks and be on it."
"Why?" Doan asked.
"Because I told you to, you fool!" Toggery roared. "And I'm the man who's crazy enough to be paying you a salary! Now, will you listen to me without interposing those crack-pot comments of yours?"
"I'll try," Doan promised.
Toggery drew a deep breath. "All right. A girl by the name of Sheila Alden is spending the first of the mountain winter season at a place in the Desolation Lake country. You're going up there to see that nothing happens to her for the next three or four weeks."
"Why?" Doan said.
"Because she hired the agency to do it! Or rather, the bank that is her guardian did. Now listen carefully. Sheila Alden's mother died when she was born. Her father died five years ago, and he left a trust fund for her that amounts to almost fifty million dollars. She turns twenty-one in two days, and she gets the whole works when she does.
"There's been a lot of comment in the papers about a young girl getting handed all that money, and she's gotten a lot of threats from crack-pots of all varieties. That Desolation Lake country is as deserted as a tomb this time of year. The season don't start up there for another month. The bank wants her to have some protection until the publicity incident to her receiving that enormous amount of money dies down."
Doan nodded. "Fair enough. Where did her old man get all this dough to leave her?"
"He invented things."
"What kind of things?"
"Powder and explosives."
"Oh," said Doan, thinking of the deep yellow gouge the metal case had left in the hillside. "What kind of explosives?"
"All kinds. He specialized in the highly concentrated variety like they use in hand grenades and bombs. That's why the trust he left increased so rapidly. It's all in munitions stock of one kind and another."
"Ummm," said Doan. "Did you tell anyone you were planning on sending me up to look after her?"
"Of course. Everybody I could find who would listen to me. Have you forgotten that I've been looking high and low for you for three days, you numb-wit?"
"I see," said Doan vaguely. "What's the girl doing up there in the mountains?"
"She's a shy kid, and she's been bedeviled persistently by cranks and fortune hunters and every other kind of chiseler." J. S. Toggery sighed and looked dreamily sentimental. "It's a shame when you think of it. That poor lonely kid--she hasn't a relative in the world--all alone up there in that damned barren mountain country. Hurt and bewildered because of the unthinking attitude of the public. No one to love her and protect her and sympathize with her. If I weren't so busy I'd go up there with you. She needs someone older--some steadying influence."
"And fifty million dollars ain't hay," said Doan.
J. S. Toggery nodded, still dreamy. "No, and if I could just get hold of--" He snapped out of it. "Damn you, Doan, must you reduce every higher human emotion to a basis of crass commercialism?"
"Yes, as long as I work for you."
"Huh! Well, anyway she's hiding up there to get away from it all. Her companion-secretary is with her. They're staying at a lodge her old man owned. Brill, the attorney who handles the income from the trust, is staying with them until you get there. There's a caretaker at the lodge too."
"I see," said Doan, nodding. "It sounds interesting. It's too bad I can't go."
Toggery said numbly: "Too bad you... What! What! Are you crazy? Why can't you go?"
Doan pointed to the floor. "Carstairs. He disapproves of mountains."
Toggery choked. "You mean that damned dog--"
Doan snapped his fingers. "I've got it. I'll leave him in your care."
"That splay-footed monstrosity! I--I'll--"
Doan reached down and tapped Carstairs on the top of his head. "Carstairs, my friend. Pay attention. You are going to visit Mr. Toggery for a few days. Treat him with consideration because he means well."
Carstairs blinked balefully at Toggery, and Toggery shivered.
"And now," said Doan cheerfully. "The money."
"Money!" Toggery shouted. "What did you do with the hundred I advanced you on