“Yes,” laughed Harvey. “But after all, that’s a little matter. The trouble with Freddie Vandam is that that sort of thing is all he sees; and so he’ll never be able to make out the mystery. He knows that this clique or that in the company is plotting to get some advantage, or to use him for their purposes—but he never realizes how the big men are pulling the wires behind the scenes. Some day they’ll throw him overboard altogether, and then he’ll realize how they’ve played with him. That’s what this Hasbrook case means, you know—they simply want to frighten him with a threat of getting the company’s affairs into the courts and the newspapers.”
Montague sat for a while in deep thought.
“What would you think would be Wyman’s relation to the matter?” he asked, at last.
“I wouldn’t know,” said Harvey. “He’s supposed to be Freddie’s backer—but what can you tell in such a tangle?”
“It is certainly a mess,” said Montague.
“There’s no bottom to it,” said the other. “Absolutely—it would take your breath away! Just listen to what Vandam told me to-day!”
And then Harvey named one of the directors of the Fidelity who was well known as a philanthropist. Having heard that the wife of one of his junior partners had met with an accident in childbirth, and that the doctor had told her husband that if she ever had another child, she would die, this man had asked, “Why don’t you have her life insured?” The other replied that he had tried, and the companies had refused her. “I’ll fix it for you,” said he; and so they put in another application, and the director came to Freddie Vandam and had the policy put through “by executive order.” Seven months later the woman died, and the Fidelity had paid her husband in full—a hundred thousand or two!
“That’s what’s going on in the insurance world!” said Siegfried Harvey.
And that was the story which Montague took with him to add to his enjoyment of the festivities at the country club. It was a very gorgeous affair; but perhaps the sombreness of his thoughts was to blame; the flowers and music and beautiful gowns failed entirely in their appeal, and he saw only the gluttony and drunkenness—more of it than ever before, it seemed to him.
Then, too, he had an unpleasant experience. He met Laura Hegan; and presuming upon her cordial reception of his visit, he went up and spoke to her pleasantly. And she greeted him with frigid politeness; she was so brief in her remarks and turned away so abruptly as almost to snub him. He went away quite bewildered. But later on he recalled the gossip about himself and Mrs. Winnie, and he guessed that that was the explanation of Miss Hegar’s action.