“But Delavan’s reappearance will stop all the wild rumors, and P. & Y. ought to climb back up where it belongs. Be swift and active, Mr. Moddridge, for you know how many millions are at stake. I shall be here at my office for two hours yet for the situation looks black at this end.”
“Brace up, sir, please do,” begged Tom, anxiously, as Eben Moddridge turned away from the instrument and rose, his face haggard and ashen gray, his knees tottering under him. “The reporters will see you. Think what they may imagine if you look scared to death. A frightened face may cost you millions at this time! Throw your head up and back. Laugh, then keep smiling. That’s right; now come!”
Delavan’s automobile was waiting up the street a little way. As soon as the clever chauffeur saw the pair appear at the side door, the machine glided up to that side door, the nearer tonneau door open. Into it stepped Moddridge and the young skipper, the latter closing the door. The machine turned and was rolling away just as the reporters, suddenly alert, hurried to the spot.
Arrived at the hotel, Eben Moddridge got to his room as quickly as possible. There, all disguise dropping, he began to shake so that he was forced to drop into a chair.
“Tell the clerk I want no cards; that I’m too busy to see any callers,” directed the nervous one. “Tell him, on no account, to let anyone get up here. Yet, Halstead, someone must see the reporters. Why can’t you do it? Your nerve is all right. See them! Talk to them. But don’t let them know we can’t find Delavan. Go! To the clerk, first, then the reporters.”
Slipping downstairs, Captain Tom Halstead was able to fill both orders at the same time, for the reporters were all at the clerk’s desk, offering their cards. At sight of Halstead the six scribes bore down upon him.
“You can’t see Mr. Moddridge for two or three hours, anyway,” Tom assured the gentlemen of the press. “Every instant of his time is taken up. If there’s anything I can properly tell you, I’ll do so.”
“Where’s Delavan?” the six chorused together.
“Why do you want to know that?” inquired Halstead, innocently.
“Why?” replied one of the reporters. “Because it is reported and believed that Francis Delavan has wrecked the P. & Y. Railroad, that he has sent the proceeds of his work out of the country, and that he has followed the money. There’s another story to the effect that Delavan, overcome with horror, has committed suicide by drowning himself in nearby waters. There’s a big tumble in Wall Street, already, and the money storm is breaking loose!”