and wall.
Gentlemen, old and young, were coming and going. Professional men,
not a few, bankers and business men jostled each other. Before the
colonel had reached the clerk's desk, he had apologized, twice at least,
for his haste. The fact was that metropolitan activity delighted his heart,
but it disturbed just a little his usual good behavior. Nervously, he
wrote in the Waldorf register plain Reuben Harris, wife and two
daughters. He wanted to prefix colonel. His son added his own name.
Colonel Harris, at his request, was given the best apartments in the
Waldorf.
Leo excused himself for the night, Lucille saying the last words in low
tones, and then, liveried attendants conducted the Harris family to their
suite of rooms. It was half past eight when the Harrises sat down to
their first meal in their private dining-room. As Mrs. Harris waited for
her hot clam soup to cool a little, she said, "Reuben, this exclusiveness
and elegance is quite to my liking. After our return from Europe, why
can't we all spend our winters in New York?"
"No, mother," said Gertrude, "we have our duties to the people of
Harrisville, and father, I am sure, will never stay long away from his
mills."
But Lucille approved her mother's plan, and was seconded by her
brother. Colonel Harris was interested in the views expressed, but with
judicial tone, he replied, "The Harrises better wait till the right time
comes. Great financial changes are possible in a day."
The dinner, though late, was excellent. Before ten o'clock all were glad
to retire, except the head of the family, who hoped the night would be
short, as the next day might witness very important business
transactions.
Colonel Harris took the elevator down to the gentlemen's café,
adjoining the beautiful Garden Court. For a moment he stood admiring
the massive fire-place and the many artistic effects, mural and
otherwise. The café was furnished with round tables and inviting chairs.
Guests of the hotel, members of city clubs, and strangers, came and
went, but the colonel's mind was in an anxious mood, so he sought a
quiet corner, lighted a cigar, and accidently picked up the Evening Post.
Almost the first thing he read was an item of shipping news:
"No word yet from the overdue steamship 'Majestic;' she is already
forty-eight hours late, and very likely has experienced bad weather."
The "Majestic" is one of the largest and best of the famous White Star
Line fleet. Colonel Harris expected an English gentleman to arrive by
this boat, and he had come on to New York to meet him, as the two had
business of great importance to talk over. "I wonder," thought the
colonel, "if such a thing could happen, that my cherished plan of
retiring with millions, might possibly be frustrated by ship-wreck or
any unlooked-for event?" Whereupon he pulled from his pocket a
cablegram, to make himself doubly sure that his was not a fool's errand,
and again read it in audible tones:
London, May 24, 18--. _Col. Reuben Harris, Hotel Waldorf, New
York._
Hugh Searles, our agent, sails May twenty-fifth on Majestic. Meet him
at Hotel Waldorf, New York.
Guerney & Barring.
The signers of the cablegram were young bankers and brokers,
occupying sumptuous quarters on Threadneedle Street, in sight of the
Bank of England, the Exchange, and the Mansion House or official
residence of the Lord Mayor of London. The fathers of each member of
the firm had been at the head of great banking houses in London for
many years, and after herculean efforts, their banks had failed. These
young men had united families and forces, and resolved to win again a
financial standing in the world's metropolis. Shrewdly they had opened
a score of branch offices in different parts of London and county;
besides they had added a brokerage business, which had drifted into an
extensive specialty of promoting syndicates in America and the
colonies. Their success in handling high grade manufacturing plants
had been phenomenal. Already at this business they had netted two
million pounds. Reliable and expert accountants were always sent by
them to examine thoroughly a client's ledgers. Already, bonds that
carried the approval of Guerney & Barring, found ready market on
Lombard, Prince, and other financial streets near the Bank of England.
Colonel Harris relighted his cigar and queried to himself, "What ought I
to charge these Englishmen for a property that cost barely two millions,
but that has brought to the Harris family, annually for ten years, an
average of 30%, or $600,000?" At first he had fixed upon six millions
as a fair price, and then finally upon five million dollars. While he thus
reflected, he fell asleep. It was after eleven o'clock when the Waldorf
attendant caught him, or
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