CHAPTER 17
On the morning following Mrs. Hawley-Crowles’s very successful imitation of the Bal de l’Opéra, Monsignor Lafelle paid an early call to the Ames sanctum. And the latter gentleman deemed the visit of sufficient importance to devote a full hour to his caller. When the churchman rose to take his leave he reiterated:
“Our friend Wenceslas will undertake the matter for you, Mr. Ames, but on the conditions which I have named. But Rome must be communicated with, and the substance of her replies must be sent from Cartagena to you, and your letters forwarded to her. That might take us into early summer. But there is no likelihood that Mr. Ketchim’s engineers will make any further attempt before that time to enter Colombia. Mr. Reed in still in California. Mr. Harris is in Denver, at his old home, you tell me. So we need look for no immediate move from them.”
“Quite satisfactory, Lafelle,” returned Ames genially. “In future, if I can be of service to you, I am yours to command. Mr. Willett will hand you a check covering your traveling expenses on my behalf.”
When the door closed after Lafelle, Ames leaned back in his chair and gave himself up to a moment’s reflection. “I wonder,” he mused, “I wonder if the fellow has something up his sleeve that he didn’t show me? He acted suspiciously. Perhaps he’s getting a bit dangerous. He may know too much already. I’m going to drop him after this trap is sprung. He’s got Jim Crowles’s widow all tied up, too. I wonder if he––by heaven! if he begins work on that girl I’ll––”
He was interrupted by the ringing of the telephone bell. It was Gannette. “What?” shouted Ames, “you say the girl insulted your wife last evening? I don’t believe she could––Yes, yes, I mean, I don’t think she meant to––certainly not, no aspersion whatever intended––What? the girl will have to apologize?––Well! well––No, not in a thousand years!––Yes, I’ll back her! And if your society isn’t good enough for her––and I don’t think it is––why, I’ll form a little coterie all by myself!”
He hung up the receiver with a slam. Then he angrily summoned Hodson. “I want a dozen brokers watching Gannette now until I call them off,” he commanded. “I want you to take personal charge of them. Dog his every move. I’ll give you some suggestions later.”