As a matter of fact, the advertiser planned to make a spurious purchase of the tract in question, by means of forged deeds granted by an accomplice, thus ****** through fraud a neat profit of thirty thousand dollars.The issue was, however, disappointing to him in the extreme.No sooner was the sixty thousand dollars on deposit in the bank than Mary Turner drew out the whole amount, as she had a perfect right to do legally.When the advertiser learned of this, he was, naturally enough, full to overflowing with wrath.But after an interview with Harris he swallowed this wrath as best he might.He found that his adversary knew a dangerous deal as to his various swindling operations.In short, he could not go into court with clean hands, which is a prime stipulation of the law--though often honored in the breach.But the advertiser's hands were too perilously filthy, so he let himself be mulcted in raging silence.
The event established Mary as the arbiter in her own coterie.
Here was, in truth, a new game, a game most entertaining, and most profitable, and not in the least risky.Immediately after the adventure with the advertiser, Mary decided that a certain General Hastings would make an excellent sacrifice on the altar of justice--and to her own financial profit.The old man was a notorious roue, of most unsavory reputation as a destroyer of innocence.It was probable that he would easily fall a victim to the ingenuous charms of Aggie.As for that precocious damsel, she would run no least risk of destruction by the satyr.So, presently, there were elaborate plottings.General Hastings met Aggie in the most casual way.He was captivated by her freshness and beauty, her demureness, her ignorance of all things vicious.
Straightway, he set his snares, being himself already limed.He showered every gallant attention on the ***** bread-and-butter miss, and succeeded gratifyingly soon in winning her heart--to all appearance.But he gained nothing more, for the coy creature abruptly developed most effective powers of resistance to every blandishment that went beyond strictest propriety.His ardor cooled suddenly when Harris filed the papers in a suit for ten thousand dollars damages for breach of promise.
Even while this affair was still in the course of execution, Mary found herself engaged in a direction that offered at least the hope of attaining her great desire, revenge against Edward Gilder.This opportunity came in the person of his son, ****.
After much contriving, she secured an introduction to that young man.Forthwith, she showed herself so deliciously womanly, so intelligent, so daintily feminine, so singularly beautiful, that the young man was enamored almost at once.The fact thrilled Mary to the depths of her heart, for in this son of the man whom she hated she saw the instrument of vengeance for which she had so longed.Yet, this one thing was so vital to her that she said nothing of her purposes, not even to Aggie, though that observant person may have possessed suspicions more or less near the truth.
It was some such suspicion that lay behind her speech as, in negligee, she sat cross-legged on the bed, smoking a cigarette in a very knowing way, while watching Mary, who was adjusting her hat before the mirror of her dressing-table, one pleasant spring morning.
"Dollin' up a whole lot, ain't you?" Aggie remarked, affably, with that laxity of language which characterized her natural moods.
"I have a very important engagement with **** Gilder," Mary replied, tranquilly.She vouchsafed nothing more definite as to her intentions.
"Nice boy, ain't he?" Aggie ventured, insinuatingly.
"Oh, I suppose so," came the indifferent answer from Mary, as she tilted the picture hat to an angle a trifle more jaunty.
The pseudo cousin sniffed.
"You s'pose that, do you? Well, anyhow, he's here so much we ought to be chargin' him for his meal-ticket.And yet I ain't sure that you even know whether he's the real goods, or not."The fair face of Mary Turner hardened the least bit.There shone an expression of inscrutable disdain in the violet eyes, as she turned to regard Aggie with a level glance.
"I know that he's the son--the only son!--of Edward Gilder.The fact is enough for me."The adventuress of the demure face shook her head in token of complete bafflement.Her rosy lips pouted in petulant dissatisfaction.
"I don't get you, Mary," she admitted, querulously."You never used to look at the men.The way you acted when you first run round with me, I thought you sure was a suffragette.And then you met this young Gilder --and--good-night, nurse!"The hardness remained in Mary's face, as she continued to regard her friend.But, now, there was something quizzical in the glance with which she accompanied the monosyllable:
"Well?"
Again, Aggie shook her head in perplexity.
"His old man sends you up for a stretch for something you didn't do--and you take up with his son like----""And yet you don't understand!" There was scorn for such gross stupidity in the musical voice.
Aggie choked a little from the cigarette smoke, as she gave a gasp when suspicion of the truth suddenly dawned on her slow intelligence.
"My Gawd!" Her voice came in a treble shriek of apprehension.
"I'm wise!"
