The Argosy, Vol. 84 No. 2 — page 152: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

334 “Oh, it will not be quite as bad as all that; not quite, for, as I told you this morning, I was well equipped with guar- dians through the terms of my father’s absurd will.” “Qh, yes,” Finch’s voice shook. “I remember now you said you had another guardian, or something of the sort. Do you mind if I ask who he is? Oh, merely curiosity, interest in your affairs,” he add- ed, raising his shoulders indifferently. “Why, yes, certainly you may ask,” she said. ‘ He is Isaac Silverman.” “TIs—! Isaac Silver — Silverman!”’ Finch bounded up from his seat. “ Isaac Silverman! What do you mean? Are you fooling?” He looked at her suspiciously. She gazed back at him with unwaver- _ Ing eyes. “Fooling? Of course not,” she replied. “ He was my father’s first business asso- ciate when he came to New York as a young man. It was he that gave him his first chance.” “Why,” rejoined Finch, with a snarl in his voice, “ he is a good-for-nothing, old skinflint, a money-shark, a repro- bate—” ‘You apparently know him,”’ she said calmly. ‘I hope not in his professional capacity.” “No, no.” ‘inch was fairly fuming. “ Certainly not. I just know him in his own capacity as an old Third Avenue Shylock.” “He wasn’t always that,” she said. “He was a very well-known banker years ago. But he became eccentric and took to money-lending. Father always said there was no shrewder judge of financial affairs than he. Mr. Swandorf was asso- ciated with him in many investments. He has always been kind to me. But he is not especially fond of young people, and left the handling of my affairs to Uncle Ben. Thirty years ago, you know, they were in a firm together—Silverman, Swandorf and Hamilton.” “TJ didn’t know that.” Finch had sunk back into his. seat. THE ARGOSY. With Swandorf dead, he had believed that the way was cleared for the girl’s mar- riage. But now here was Silverman. He could easily see where he would stand in Silverman’s ‘eyes. So far as Finch’s present prospects were concerned, Swandorf might just as well be alive. ‘Have you notified Mr. Silverman yet?” he asked as the car reached the house. “Why, no,” she said, “ and I suppose I should, at once.” Finch offered his services, saying that this was at least something he could do for her. She was quite willing, and nod- ding her thanks, alighted from the auto- mobile and went up the steps. Finch followed her into the house and looked about for a telephone. In re- sponse to his ‘inquiry a servant indicated one on a table in the hall. ‘““Tsn’t there one that is more private?” asked Finch. The footman pointed to a closet under the stairs which Finch entered and shut the door. He knew Silverman’s number well enough, and in a minute was connected with the old man. “This,” Finch began, “ is a Herald re- porter speaking. Benjamin Swandorf has met his death here at Larchmont—” Finch caught a harsh aspiration over the wire and construed it as a heavy sigh. He waited a moment until he heard the tense voice saying, “‘ Yes, yes, go on.” ‘“ Miss Hamilton, who is ill from shock, requested me to notify you. Of course you'll come up to Larchmont.” Silverman asked Finch to hold the wire, and apparently ran over his plans for the day. At length his reply came. “T cannot come up until this eve- ning—” “For dinner?” asked Finch. “No, after dinner. I haf several im- bortant engagements, one auf vich vill keep me until evening.” ‘At what train shall we meet you?” asked Finch. CORMMICLOOOKS (C@