The words had scarcely escaped from his lips when Mrs. Harris, her eyes staring with astonishment, sharply exclaimed:
“Ten thousand dollars! Why, James Henry, you must have been hypnotized!”
It caused Sam to smile, and remark with a look of reproach: “Auntie!”
“He came to me with a plausible story and many regrets, unexpectedly ran short of funds; produced a cablegram purporting to come from his brother, the Duke Villier, only yesterday, authorizing him to draw for two thousand pounds. To oblige him I indorsed the draft, went with him to the bank, and it was immediately honored. I will phone for a policeman at once,” and Mr. Harris turned away to put his purpose into effect, when Sam intercepted him.
“Stay, Uncle; I have taken upon myself the duty of swearing out a warrant for his arrest, and in order there shall be no possibility of his escape, I have arranged with detectives, having Jack Shore in charge, to identify and arrest him.”
“James, do not wait a moment!” impatiently exclaimed Mrs. Harris. “Have him arrested at once.”
“Auntie, he cannot escape the officers, who are concealed, waiting signal,” Sam assured her.
And then, as if fate had so ordered, the object of their anathemas—in the company of Hazel, complacently sauntered from the tennis lawn, and, rounding the angle of the house, suddenly appeared close to the group.
“It was so stupid of me. I am sure your lordship did not enjoy the game at all,” said the girl. It was at that game of tennis that Rutley found opportunity to propose marriage to Hazel, for he believed that she was so disappointed at Corway’s disappearance, and which he took care to insinuate was through cowardice, and that she was so impressed with his rank, wealth and manners, that it would be easy to persuade her; but he found the girl repelled his advances so firmly and decisively that he at once abandoned the idea of attempting to entice her to elope, and abruptly ended the game. And so, because of his love for this girl, he had delayed his purpose to escape from the city, and jeopardized his chances accordingly.
When Rutley’s eyes first rested on James Harris, he involuntarily started at the change in his looks, but though seemingly perturbed for an instant, his self-possession never really deserted him. Straight on to the broad steps he strode with a suavity of manner quite in keeping with his usual phlegmatic bearing. Whatever distrust or apprehension may have troubled his thoughts, no exterior indication was visible. His face was impassive and inscrutable as the “Sphinx.” His nerves were steel, his acting superb.