The Brass Bowl | Page 6

to his associates, and make them each pay
back their fair share of the loot? That'd bring his liability down to about
fifty thousand."
"Because they won't give up without a contest in the courts. They deny
your proofs--you have those papers, haven't you?"
"Safe, under lock and key," asserted Maitland sententiously. "When the
time comes I'll produce them."
"And they incriminate Graeme?"
"They make it look as black for him as for the others. Do you honestly
believe him innocent, Bannerman?"

"I do, implicitly. The dread of exposure, the fear of notoriety when the
case comes up in court, has aged the man ten years. He begged me with
tears in his eyes to induce you to drop it and accept his offer of
restitution. Don't you think you could do it, Dan?"
"No, I don't." Maitland shook his head with decision. "If I let up, the
scoundrels get off scot-free. I have nothing against Graeme; I am
willing to make it as light as I can for him; but this business has got to
be aired in the courts; the guilty will have to suffer. It will be a lesson
to the public, a lesson to the scamps, and a lesson to Graeme--not to
lend his name too freely to questionable enterprises."
"And that's your final word, is it?"
"Final, Bannerman.... You go ahead; prepare your case and take it to
court. When the time comes, as I say, I'll produce these papers. I can't
go on this way, letting people believe that I'm an easy mark just
because I was unfortunate enough to inherit more money than is good
for my wholesome."
Maitland twisted his eyebrows in deprecation of Bannerman's attitude;
signified the irrevocability of his decision by bringing his fist down
upon the table--but not heavily enough to disturb the other diners; and,
laughing, changed the subject.
For some moments he gossiped cheerfully of his new power-boat,
Bannerman attending to the inconsequent details with an air of
abstraction. Once or twice he appeared about to interrupt, but changed
his mind: but because his features were so wholly infantile and open
and candid, the time came when Maitland could no longer ignore his
evident perturbation.
"Now what's the trouble?" he demanded with a trace of asperity. "Can't
you forget that Graeme business and--"
"Oh, it's not that." Bannerman dismissed the troubles of Mr. Graeme
with an airy wave of a pudgy hand. "That's not my funeral, nor yours....
Only I've been worried, of late, by your utterly careless habits."
Maitland looked his consternation. "In heaven's name, what now?" And
grinned as he joined hands before him in simulated petition. "Please
don't read me a lecture just now, dear boy. If you've got something
dreadful on your chest wait till another day, when I'm more in the
humor to be found fault with."
"No lecture." Bannerman laughed nervously. "I've merely been

wondering what you have done with the Maitland heirlooms."
"What? Oh, those things? They're safe enough--in the safe out at
Greenfields."
"To be sure! Quite so!" agreed the lawyer, with ironic heartiness. "Oh,
quite." And proceeded to take all Madison Square into his confidence,
addressing it from the window. "Here's a young man, sole proprietor of
a priceless collection of family heirlooms,-- diamonds, rubies,
sapphires galore; and he thinks they're safe enough in a safe at his
country residence, fifty miles from anywhere! What a simple, trustful
soul it is!"
"Why should I bother?" argued Maitland sulkily. "It's a good, strong
safe, and--and there are plenty of servants around," he concluded
largely.
"Precisely. Likewise plenty of burglars. You don't suppose a
determined criminal like Anisty, for instance, would bother himself
about a handful of thick-headed servants, do you?"
"Anisty?"--with a rising inflection of inquiry.
Bannerman squared himself to face his host, elbows bows on table.
"You don't mean to say you've not heard of Anisty, the great Anisty?"
he demanded.
"I dare say I have," Maitland conceded, unperturbed. "Name rings
familiar, somehow."
"Anisty,"--deliberately, "is said to be the greatest jewel thief the world
has ever known. He has the police of America and Europe by the ears
to catch him. They have been hot on his trail for the past three years,
and would have nabbed him a dozen times if only he'd had the grace to
stay in one place long enough. The man who made off with the
Bracegirdle diamonds, smashing a burglar-proof vault into scrap-iron
to get 'em--don't you remember?"
"Ye-es; I seem to recall the affair, now that you mention it," Maitland
admitted, bored. "Well, and what of Mr. Anisty?"
"Only what I have told you, taken in connection with the circumstance
that he is known to be in New York, and that the Maitland heirlooms
are tolerably famous--as much so as your careless habits,