“It is because they know me too intimately—the reputation is not unmerited.”
There was a bitter indifference to his words that chilled her, a drooping sneer at his mouth and a cold gleam in his black eyes as he made frank, unboastful admission of iniquity. It seemed for a space as though the demon he had confessed looked out mockingly from the man at her.
“Yet you made no mistake,” he assured her almost immediately. “Your woman’s intuition told you aright; there is that I must assist you to learn of, even if—if I did not care.”
“But about Captain Carlstone,” she reminded him. “You have not told me whether he has any connection with the matter or not.”
“Captain Carlstone does not matter. He is gone—made away with himself somewhere overseas.”
“Killed himself?” she asked aghast.
Acey Smith gave vent to a soulless, soundless laugh. “Something like that,” he answered indifferently. “At any rate, he never came back to Canada. There were vital reasons why he dare not. But don’t waste pity on him; as I said, he doesn’t matter, and, lest you may have conceived otherwise, I may tell you there was never anything in common between Captain Carlstone and J.C.X. In fact, they were as unalike as it is possible for two individuals to be.”
His utter callousness bruised the sensitive girl—angered her so that she could have wished to have been a man to strike him where he stood.
“Be patient for a little while.” He intercepted the retort that trembled on her lips. “You shall know and you shall understand. You shall be the first person outside myself to meet face to face the mysterious J.C.X., whose power is greater than any other one individual in the Dominion of Canada, who makes and unmakes big businesses at his will, sways big men as puppets, uses political parties as pawns to his own advantage, advises and the Press thunders his words, and yet works as with an unseen hand. You shall be the first to meet J.C.X. and know definitely in whose presence you stand.”
“I don’t think I care to meet him—now,” coldly.