The Gloved Hand | Page 8

that she was approaching the wall.
And then, as she came nearer, I saw that she was not a woman at all,
but a girl--a girl of eighteen or twenty, to whom the flowing robes gave,
at a distance, the effect of age. I caught only a glimpse of her face
before it was hidden by a clump of shrubbery, but that glimpse told me
that it was a face to set the pulses leaping. I strained still farther
forward, waiting until she should come into sight again....
Along the path she came, with the sunlight about her, kissing her hair,
her lips, her cheeks--and the next instant her eyes were staring upwards
into mine.
I could not move. I could only stare down at her. I saw the hot colour
sweep across her face; I saw her hand go to her bosom; I saw her turn
to flee. Then, to my amazement, she stopped, as though arrested by a
sudden thought, turned toward me again, and raised her eyes
deliberately to mine.
For fully a minute she stood there, her gaze searching and intent, as
though she would read my soul; then her face hardened with sudden
resolution. Again she put her hand to her bosom, turned hastily toward
the wall, and disappeared behind it.
The next instant, something white came flying over it, and fell on the
grass beneath my tree. Staring down at it, I saw it was a letter.

CHAPTER IV
ENTER FREDDIE SWAIN
I fell, rather than climbed, down the ladder, snatched the white missile
from the grass, and saw that it was, indeed, a sealed and addressed
envelope. I had somehow expected that address to include either
Godfrey's name or mine; but it did neither. The envelope bore these
words:
Mr. Frederic Swain, 1010 Fifth Avenue, New York City.
If not at this address, please try the Calumet Club.
I sat down on the lowest rung of the ladder, whistling softly to myself.
For Freddie Swain's address was no longer 1010 Fifth Avenue, nor was
he to be found in the luxurious rooms of the Calumet Club. In fact, it
was nearly a year since he had entered either place. For some eight
hours of every week-day, he laboured in the law offices of Royce &
Lester; he slept in a little room on the top floor of the Marathon; three
hours of every evening, Saturdays, Sundays and holidays excepted,
were spent at the law school of the University of New York; and the
remaining hours of the twenty-four in haunts much less conspicuous
and expensive than the Calumet Club.
For Freddie Swain had taken one of these toboggan slides down the hill
of fortune which sometimes happen to the most deserving. His father,
old General Orlando Swain, had, all his life, put up a pompous front
and was supposed to have inherited a fortune from somewhere; but,
when he died, this edifice was found to be all façade and no foundation,
and Freddie inherited nothing but debts. He had been expensively
educated for a career as an Ornament of Society, but he found that
career cut short, for Society suddenly ceased to find him ornamental. I
suppose there were too many marriageable daughters about!
I am bound to say that he took the blow well. Instead of attempting to
cling to the skirts of Society as a vendor of champagne or an organiser
of fêtes champêtres, he--to use his own words--decided to cut the whole

show.
Our firm had been named as the administrators of the Swain estate, and
when the storm was over and we were sitting among the ruins, Freddie
expressed the intention of going to work.
"What will you do?" Mr. Royce inquired. "Ever had any training in
making money?"
"No, only in spending it," retorted Freddie, easily. "But I can learn. I
was thinking of studying law. That's a good trade, isn't it?"
"Splendid!" assented Mr. Royce, warmly. "And there are always so
many openings. You see, nobody studies law--lawyers are as scarce as
hen's teeth."
"Just the same, I think I'll have a try at it," said Freddie, sturdily.
"There's always room at the top, you know," he added, with a grin. "I
can go to the night-school at the University, and I ought to be able to
earn enough to live on, as a clerk or something. I know how to read and
write."
"That will help, of course," agreed Mr. Royce. "But I'm afraid that,
right at first, anyway, you can scarcely hope to live in the style to
which you have been accustomed."
Freddie turned on him with fire in his eyes.
"Look here," he said, "suppose you give me a job. I'll do my work and
earn my wages--try me and see."
There was something in