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From the Housetops, a novel by George Barr McCutcheon |
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Chapter 18 |
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_ CHAPTER XVIII Simmy Dodge was the first to speak. He was the first to grasp the full meaning of this deliberately ambiguous will. His face cleared. "By Jove!" he exclaimed, without respect for the proprieties. He slapped Braden on the back, somewhat enthusiastically. "We sha'n't have to smash it, after all. It's the cleverest thing I've ever listened to, old man. What a head your grandfather had on his—" Braden leaped to his feet, his face quivering. "Of course we'll smash it," he stormed. "Do you suppose or imagine for an instant that I will allow such a thing as that to stand? Do you—" "Go slow, Brady, go slow," broke in his excited, self-appointed lawyer. "Can't you see through it? Can't you see what he was after? Why, good Lord, man, he has made you the principal legatee,—he has actually given you _everything_. All this rigmarole about a trust or a foundation or whatever you want to call it amounts to absolutely nothing. The money is yours to do what you like with as long as you live. You have complete control of every dollar of it. No one else has a thing to say about it. Why, it's the slickest, soundest will I've—" "Oh, my God!" groaned Braden, dropping into a chair and covering his face with his hands. Judge Hollenback was smiling benignly. He had drawn the will. He knew that it was sound, if not "slick," as Simmy had described it. The three Tresslyns leaned forward in their chairs, bewildered, dumbfounded. Their gaze was fixed on the shaking figure of Braden Thorpe. As for Wade, he had sunk helplessly into a chair. A strange, hunted look appeared in his eyes. His chin sank lower and lower, and his body twitched. He was not caring what happened to Braden Thorpe, he was not even thinking about the vast fortune that had been placed at the young man's disposal. His soul was sick. In spite of all that he could do to prevent it, his gaze went furtively to Murray's rubicund jowl, and then shifted to the rapt, eager face of his young mistress. Twenty-five thousand dollars! There was no excuse for him now. With all that money he could not hope to stay on in service. He was rich. He would have to go out into the world and shift for himself. He could not go on 'tending furnace for Mrs. Thorpe,—he couldn't take the bread out of some deserving wretch's mouth by hanging onto the job with all that money in his possession. Mrs. Thorpe would congratulate him on the morrow, and turn him out. And no one would tell him where to go,—unless it might be Murray, in a fit of anger. "Mr. Thorpe was not moved by any desire to circumvent certain—perhaps I should say that he intended you, Dr. Thorpe, to act in strict accordance with the provisions of the will," said Judge Hollenback. "He did not lose sight of the fact that he had promised to leave you out of his will completely. This money is not yours. It is in your hands as trustee. Mr. Dodge is wrong. Your grandfather was very deeply in earnest when he authorised the drawing of this instrument. You will discover, on reading it carefully and thoughtfully, that he does not give you the right to divert any of this money to your own private uses, but clearly says that it is to be employed, under your sole direction and as you see fit, for the carrying out of your ideas along certain lines. He has left a letter for you, Dr. Thorpe, which I have been privileged to read. You will find it in this envelope. For the benefit of future beneficiaries under this instrument, I may say that he expresses the hope and desire that you will not permit the movement to languish after your death. In fact, he expressly instructs you to establish during your life time a systematic scheme of education by reason of which the world eventually may become converted to the ideas which you promulgate and defend. He realised that this cannot he brought about in one generation, nor in two, three or four. Indeed, he ventures the opinion that two centuries may pass before this sound and sensible theory of yours,—the words are his, not mine,—becomes a reality. Two centuries, mind you. So, you will see, he does not expect you to perform a miracle, Braden. You are to start the ball rolling, so to speak, in a definite, well-supported groove, from which there can be no deviation. By this will, you are to have free and unhampered use of a vast sum of money. He does not bind you in any particular. So much for the outward expression of the will. Inversely, however, as you will find by reading this letter, you are not so completely free to exercise your own discretion. You will find that while he gives to you the undisputed right to bequeath this fortune as you may see fit at the expiration of your term as trustee—in short, at your death,—he suggests that,—being an honourable and conscientious man to his certain knowledge,—you will create a so- called foundation for the perpetuation of your ideas—and his, I may add. This foundation is to grow out of and to be the real development of the trust over which you now have absolute control. But all this, my friend, we may discuss later on. The real significance of Mr. Thorpe's will is to be found in the faith he reposes in you. He puts you on your honour. He entrusts this no inconsiderable fortune to your care. It rests entirely with you as to the manner in which it shall be used. If you elect to squander it, there is no one to say nay to you. It is expressly stated here that the trust comprehends the spread of the doctrines you advocate, but it does not pretend to guide or direct you in the handling of the funds. Mr. Thorpe trusts you to be governed by the dictates of your own honour. I have no hesitancy in saying that I protested against this extraordinary way of creating a trust, declaring to him that I thought he was doing wrong in placing you in such a position,—that is to say, it was wrong of him to put temptation in your way. He was confident, however. In fact, he was entirely satisfied with the arrangement. I will admit that at the time I had a queer impression that he was chuckling to himself, but of course I was wrong. It was merely the quick and difficult breathing of one in dire pain. The situation is quite plain, ladies and gentlemen. The will is sound. Mr. Dodge has observed,—somewhat hastily I submit,—that he believes it will not have to be smashed. He says that the money has been left to Dr. Thorpe, and that the trust is a rigmarole, or something of the sort. Mr. Dodge is right, after a fashion. If Dr. Thorpe chooses to violate his grandfather's staunch belief in his integrity, if he elects to disregard the suggestions set down in this letter—which, you must understand, is in no sense a legal supplement to the will,—he may justify Mr. Dodge's contention that the fortune is his to do with as he pleases." He turned to Anne. "I beg to inform you, Mrs. Thorpe, that your duties as executrix will not prove onerous. Your late husband left his affairs in such shape that there will be absolutely no difficulty in settling the estate. It could be done in half an hour, if necessary. Everything is ship-shape, as the saying is. I shall be glad to place myself at the command of yourself and your attorneys. Have no hesitancy in calling upon me." He waited. No one spoke. Braden was looking at him now. He had recovered from his momentary collapse and was now listening intently to the old lawyer's words. There was a hard, uncompromising light in his eyes,—a sullen prophecy of trouble ahead. After a moment, Judge Hollenback construed their silence as an invitation to go on. He liked to talk. "Our good friend Dodge says that no one else has a thing to say about the manner in which the trustee of this vast fund shall disperse his dollars." (Here he paused, for it sounded rather good to him.) "Ahem! Now does Mr. Dodge really believe what he says? Just a moment, please. I am merely formulating—er—I beg pardon, Mrs. Thorpe. You were saying—?" "I prefer not to act as executrix of the will, Judge Hollenback," said Anne dully. "How am I to go about being released from—" "My dear Mrs. Thorpe, you must believe me when I say that your duties,—er—the requirements,—are practically _nil_. Pray do not labour under the impression that—" "It isn't that," said Anne. "I just don't want to serve, that's all. I shall refuse." "My daughter will think the matter over for a few days, Judge Hollenback," said Mrs. Tresslyn suavely. "She _does_ feel, I've no doubt, that it would be a tax on her strength and nerves. In a few days, I'm sure, she will feel differently." She thought she had sensed Anne's reason for hesitating. Mrs. Tresslyn had been speechless with dismay—or perhaps it was indignation—up to this moment. She had had a hard fight to control her emotions. "We need not discuss it now, at any rate," said Anne. She found it extremely difficult to keep from looking at Braden as she spoke. Something told her that he was looking hard at her. She kept her face averted. "Quite right, quite right," said Judge Hollenback. "I hope you will forgive me, Braden, for mentioning your—er—theories,—the theories which inspired the somewhat disturbing clause in your grandfather's will. I feel that it is my duty to explain my position in the matter. I was opposed to the creation of this fund. I tried to make your grandfather see the utter fallacy of his—shall we call it whim? Now, I will not put myself in the attitude of denying the true humanity of your theory. I daresay it has been discussed by physicians for ages. It was my aim to convince your grandfather that all the money in the world cannot bring about the result you desire. I argued from the legal point of view. There are the insurance companies to consider. They will put obstacles in the way of—" "Pardon me, Judge Hollenback," interrupted Braden steadily. "I do not advocate an illegal act. We need not discuss my theories, however. The absurdity of the clause in my grandfather's will is as clear to me as it is to you. The conditions cannot be carried out. I shall refuse to accept this trusteeship." Judge Hollenback stared. "But, my dear friend, you must accept. What is to become of the—er—money if you refuse to act? You can't possibly refuse. There is no other provision for the disposition of the estate. He has put it squarely up to you. There is no other solution. You may be sure, sir, that I do not care what you do with the money, and I fancy no one else will undertake to define your—" "Just the same, sir, I cannot and will not accept," said Braden, finality in his tone. "I cannot tell you how shocked, how utterly overwhelmed I am by—" Simmy interrupted him. "I'd suggest, old fellow, that you take Mr. Thorpe's letter to your rooms and read it. Take time to think it all out for yourself. Don't go off half-cocked like this." "You at least owe it to yourself and to your grandfather—" began Judge Hollenback soothingly, but was cut short by Braden, who arose and turned to the door. There he stopped and faced them. "I'm sorry, Judge Hollenback, but I must ask you to consider the matter closed. I shall leave you and Mr. Dodge to find a satisfactory solution. In the first place, I am a practising physician and surgeon. I prefer to regulate my own life and my life's work. I need not explain to you just how deeply I am interested in the saving of human life. That comes first with me. My theories, as you call them, come second. I cannot undertake the promotion of these theories as a salaried advocate. This is the only stupid and impractical thing that my grandfather ever did, I believe. He must have known that the terms of the will could not be carried out. Mr. Dodge is right. It was his way of leaving the property to me after declaring that he would not do so, after adding the codicil annulling the bequest intended for me. He broke a solemn compact. Now he has made the situation absolutely impossible. I shall not act as trustee of this fund, and I shall not use a penny of the fortune 'as I see fit,' Judge Hollenback. There must be some other channel into which all this money can be diverted without—" "There is no provision, sir, as I said before," said Judge Hollenback testily. "It can only be released by an act of yours. That is clear, quite clear." "Then, I shall find a way," said Braden resolutely. "I shall go into court and ask to have the will set aside as—" "That's it, sir, that's it," came an eager voice from an unexpected quarter. Wade was leaning forward in his chair, visibly excited by the prospect of relief. "I can testify, sir, that Mr. Thorpe acted strangely,—yes, very queerly,—during the past few months. I should say that he was of unsound mind." Then, as every eye was upon him, he subsided as suddenly as he had begun. "Shut up!" whispered Murray, murderously, bending over, the better to penetrate his ear. "You damn fool!" Judge Hollenback indulged in a frosty smile. "Mr. Wade is evidently bewildered." Then, turning to Braden, he said: "Mr. Dodge's advice is excellent. Think the matter over for a few days and then come to see me." "I am placed in a most unhappy position," said Braden, with dignity. "Mrs. Thorpe appreciates my feelings, I am sure. She was led to believe, as I was, that my grandfather had left me out of his will. Such a thing as this subterfuge never crossed my mind, nor hers. I wish to assure her, in the presence of all of you, that I was as completely ignorant of all this—" "I know it, Braden," interrupted Anne. "I know that you had nothing to do with it. And for that reason I feel that you should accept the trust that is—" "Anne!" cried out Braden, incredulously. "You cannot mean it. You—" "I do mean it," she said firmly. "It is your greatest justification. You should carry out his wishes. He does not leave you the money outright. You may do as you please with it, to be sure, but why should you agree with Simmy that it may be converted solely to your own private uses? Why should you feel that he intended you to have it all for your own? Does he not set forth explicitly just what uses it is to be put to by you during your lifetime? He puts you on your honour. He knew what he was about when he overruled Judge Hollenback's objection. He knew that this trust would be safe in your hands. Yes, Braden, he knew that you would not spend a penny of it on yourself." He was staring at her blankly. Mrs. Tresslyn was speaking now, but it is doubtful if he heard a word that she uttered. He was intent only upon the study of Anne's warm, excited face. "Mr. Thorpe assured me a little over a year ago," began Anne's mother, a hard light in her eyes, "that it was his determination to leave his grandson out of his will altogether. It was his desire,—or at least, so he said,—to remove from Braden's path every obstacle that might interfere with his becoming a great man and a credit to his name. By that, of course, he meant money unearned. He told me that most of his fortune was to go to Charitable and Scientific Institutions. I had his solemn word of honour that his grandson was to be in no sense a beneficiary under his will. He—" "Please, mother!" broke in Anne, a look of real shame in her eyes. "And so how are we to reconcile this present foolishness with his very laudable display of commonsense of a year ago?" went on Mrs. Tresslyn, the red spot darkening in her cheek. "He played fast and loose with all of us. I agree with Braden Thorpe. There was treachery in—" "Ahem!" coughed Judge Hollenback so loudly and so pointedly that the angry sentence was not completed. Mrs. Tresslyn was furious. She had been cheated, and Anne had been cheated. The old wretch had played a trick on all of them! He had bought Anne for two millions, and now _nothing_,—absolutely _nothing_ was to go to Charity! Braden was seven times a millionaire instead of a poor but ambitious seeker after fame! In the few minutes that followed Judge Hollenback's cough, she had time to restore her equanimity to its habitual elevation. It had, for once, stooped perilously near to catastrophe. Meanwhile, her son George had arrived at a conclusion. He arose from his chair with a wry face and a half uttered groan, and crossed over to Braden's side. Strange, fierce pains were shooting through all the joints and muscles of his body. "See here, Brady, I'd like to ask a question, if you don't mind." "I don't mind. What is it?" "Would you have operated on Mr. Thorpe if you'd known what was in this will?" Braden hesitated, but only for a second. "Yes. My grandfather asked me to operate. There was nothing else for me to do under the circumstances." "That's just what I thought. Well, all I've got to say is that so long as you respected his wishes while he was alive it seems pretty rotten in you to take the stand you're taking now." "What do you mean?" "He virtually asked you to make an end of him. You both knew there was no chance. You operated and he died. I'm speaking plainly, you see. No one blames you. You did your best. But it seems to me that if you could do what he asked you to do at that time, you ought to do what he asks of you now. As long as you were willing to respect his last wish alive, you ought not to stir up a rumpus over his first wish dead." The two men were looking hard into each other's eyes. George's voice shook a little, but not from fear or nervousness. He was shivering with the chill that precedes fever. Anne drew a step or two nearer. She laid an appealing hand on George's arm. "I think I understand you, George," said Thorpe slowly. "You are telling me that you believe I took my grandfather's life by design. You—" "No," said George quietly, "I'm not saying that, Brady. I'm saying that you owe as much to him now as you did when he was alive. If you had not consented to operate, this will would never have been drawn. If you had refused, the first will would have been read to-day. I guess you are entirely responsible for the making of this new will, and that's why I say you ought to be man enough to stand by your work." Thorpe turned away. His face was very white and his hands were clenched. Anne shook her brother's arm. "Why,—oh, why did you say that to him, George? Why—" "Because it ought to have been said to him," said George coolly; "that's why. He made old Mr. Thorpe see things from his point of view, and it's up to him to shoulder the responsibility." Mrs. Tresslyn spoke to Murray. "Is there any reason why we shouldn't have tea, Murray? Serve it, please." She turned to Judge Hollenback. "I don't see any sense in trying to settle all the little details to-day, do you, Judge Hollenback? We've done all that it is possible to do to-day. The will has been read. That is all we came for, I fancy. I confess that I am astonished by several of the provisions, but the more I think of them the less unreasonable they seem to be. We have nothing to quarrel about. Every one appears to be satisfied except Dr. Thorpe, so let us have tea—and peace. Sit down, Braden. You can't decide the question to-day. It has too many angles." Braden lifted his head. "Thank you, Mrs. Tresslyn; I shall not wait. At what hour may I see you to-morrow, Judge Hollenback?" "Name your own hour, Braden." "Three o'clock," said Braden succinctly. He turned to George. "No hard feelings, George, on my part." "Nor on mine," said George, extending his hand. "It's just my way of looking at things lately. No offence was meant, Brady. I'm too fond of you for that." "You've given me something to think about," said Thorpe. He bowed stiffly to the ladies and Judge Hollenback. George stepped out into the hall with him. "I intend to stick pretty close to Anne, Brady," he said with marked deliberation. "She needs me just now." Thorpe started. "I don't get your meaning, George." "There will be talk, old man,—talk about you and Anne. Do you get it now?" "Good heaven! I—yes, I suppose there will be all sorts of conjectures," groaned Braden bitterly. "People remember too well, George. You may rest easy, however. I shall not give them any cause to talk. As for coming to this house again, I can tell you frankly that as I now feel I could almost make a vow never to enter its doors again as long as I live." "Well, I just thought I'd let you know how I stand in the matter," said George. "I'm going to try to look out for Anne, if she'll let me. Good- bye, Brady. I hope you'll count me as one of your friends, if you think I'm worth while. I'm—I'm going to make a fresh start, you know." He grinned, and his teeth chattered. "You'd better go to bed," said Braden, looking at him closely. "Tell Anne that I said so, and—you'd better let a doctor look you over, too." "I haven't much use for doctors," said George, shaking his head. "I wanted to kill you last winter when you cut poor little Lutie—Oh, but of course you understand. I was kind of dotty then, I guess. So long." Simmy came to the library door and called out: "I'll be with you in a second, Brady. I'm going your way, and I don't care which way you're going. My car's outside." Re-entering the room, Mr. Dodge walked up to Anne and actually shook her as a parent would shake a child. "Don't be silly about it, Anne. You've got to accept the house. He left it to you without—" "I cannot live up to the conditions. The will says that I must continue to make this place my home, that I must reside here for—Oh! I cannot do it, that's all, Simmy. I would go mad, living here. There is no use discussing the matter. I will not take the house." "'Pon my soul," sighed Judge Hollenback, "the poor man seems to have made a mess of everything. He can't even give his property away. No one will take it. Braden refuses, Mrs. Thorpe refuses, Wade is dissatisfied—Ah, yes, Murray seems to be pleased. One lump, Mrs. Tresslyn, and a little cream. Now as for Wade's attitude—by the way, where is the man?" Wade was at the lower end of the hall, speaking earnestly in a tremulous undertone to Braden Thorpe. "Yes, sir, Mr. Braden, there's only one thing to do. We've got to have it set aside, declared void. You may count on me, sir. I'll swear to his actions. Crazy as a loon, sir,—? crazy as a loon." _ |
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