The Complete Simon Iff (59 page)

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*"it is certain my father has robbed me of ALL he was afraid to have two boys lest they should be strong enough to kill him thus man is all evil I am chosen to redeem the world by virginity by this means man will be destroyed" - Editor 

"Take an arm-chair, young lady," said Simon Iff genially. "Every man and every woman is a star. Dobson, tell Nankipoo to bring the drinks and gaspers."

The woman addressed sank into a chair rather than took it. She covered her face with her hands and began to wipe away the tears with a corner of her ragged gawdy skirt. Iff scrutinized her in silence.

"Explain the Law," said he when Dobson returned from his errand. "After that, leave us alone."

"It's this way," said the chauffeur, "as I understand it. Mr. Iff says that we are all really sort of gods who have disguised ourselves as men and women for the sake of the experience; and life on earth is always so painful and hideous that we are all first-class heroes simply for getting ourselves born. We ought all to respect each other for what we really are and for what we have done. It doesn't make any odds what particular rig we've got ourselves up in. Sit up and smile, lass, and talk to Mr. Iff as if he were your own twin brother."

"That'll do, Dobson," said Mr. Iff; "I am her own twin brother."

The girl lifted her head. The bitter years had taught her to read strange men at a glance. She saw respect and sympathy in the magician's face. There was no hint of patronage or anything else that could wound the most sensitive spirit. She smiled timidly. Dobson left the room as the Japanese servant served the refreshments.

"Not bad stuff. May I fill your glass again?"

The girl nodded. The stimulant had given her courage.

"Righto," said Simon, "tell me the whole trouble, Young un."

She began to stammer--"I don't know how I'm here," she managed to get out at last.

Iff answered her. "Simple enough, my dear. It's one of Dobson's duties to keep his eyes open for beauty in distress. Whenever he spots any one in need of any kind, he helps them out; and if he finds the job beyond him he brings the business to me."

"I thought he was your chauffeur," said the girl, as if the magician's statement were somewhat surprising.

"So he is," cried Iff. "But then, what is a chauffeur? Doesn't the word mean one who warms things up? He saw you shivering in the cold world. That's all."

She still seemed puzzled. Simon sighed.

"Alas, I see that you have been taught to think of a servant as somehow inferior to his master. Dobson is my colleague, a star whose business happens to be to shove another star along the streets."

The wine was beginning to work in the girl. She began to recover from the obsession of her surroundings. She had never imagined the possibility of so gorgeous a room as Iff's. The sober splendour frightened her. She connected it instinctively with wealth and power, and to her wealth and power meant only the hidden horror behind the police--that monster, many-armed, that might pounce upon her at any moment without reason and without warning.

"What kind of a star am I?" she asked, and trembled at her own audacity.

"It's my business to find out," said he; "to find out why you happen to be in this particular disguise; to put you on your proper course; to free you from the forces which have dragged you off it."

She shook her head very slowly and sadly but with decision.

Iff eyed her narrowly.

She sat up straight, gripping the arms of her chair. There was something like a sneer on her lips, something like contempt in her voice.

"Looking for lost sheep? That game's no good. I'm a goat, and you can't get mutton from me."

"Great," cried Iff. "That's the spirit I like. I'm a bit of a goat myself. Goats will be goats. Did you ever hear what one of the greatest poets and prophets that ever lived said about goats? 'The lust of the goat is the glory of God.'"

The girl's animation increased. It was a new experience for her to be addressed by an apparently respectable member of society except in one of three ways: either it was the coarse familiarity of casual admirers, the sanctimonious severity of professional philanthropists, or the savage menaces of the police. Iff understood.

"Why the hell should I want to reform you?" he laughed. "I suppose you've had a streak of bad luck. I prescribe a new dress, a new hat, some gloves, and silk stockings with change of scenery. I admit that 8th Avenue, with all its charms, may seem monotonous in the long run. Help yourself," he concluded, tossing his bill-fold into her lap. "Try what the Board Walk will do for you."

To his surprise, the girl sprang up as if his action had broken some spell that had bound her. She crossed the room like a queen, and handed back the case. Then she burst into a torrent of tears which shook her slight shoulders with tempestuous violence.

Simon Iff took her back to her chair and soothed her. As soon as she was calm, he spoke with curt authority.

"Tell me the whole trouble."

His tone made her mistress of herself.

"All Morgan's millions wouldn't help me--you don't understand. How could you? I've been sick, I've starved, I've been in gaol! I haven't a friend--I've nothing before me but death--I'm sliding; no one can save me. I con't want to be saved. Thanks for the money--at least for the thought in your heart. But a glimpse of joy would only make my wretchedness harder to bear. I haven't cried for five years."

The natural question shot through Simon's mouth. "Then why were you crying to-day?"

"Not for myself--I'm too hard and too proud. Look at this paper."

Her trembling hands fumbled in a shabby plush bag. She handed a slip torn from the columns of an "Evening Journal" to Simon. It was a police report. It recorded the conviction of Stephen Adams, aged 23, assistant cashier in the office of a well-known firm of stockbrokers. The charge was 'theft' of a number of Liberty Bonds. Few details were given; but the method of the robbery had been the abstraction of a number of bonds from a packet, detection having been postponed by replacing them by Bolshevic-manufactured forgeries. The sentence had been Draconic. Even the employers had asked mercy on the ground of the boy's previously good character, and the element of doubt as to his guilt caused by the failure of the prosecution to trace either the disposal of the stolen goods, or the way in which the Russian bonds came into his possession.

But the judge was 'determined to stamp out that sort of thing', and put on his heaviest boots.

Simon returned the paper to his guest with a gesture of inquiry.

"Stephen's my brother," she said.

"And you are very fond of each other?" asked Iff.

She hung her head dejectedly. "He cast me off when I went wrong. I haven't seen him since."

Iff's respect for the girl increased once more. Why should she take so much to heart the punishment of the Pharisee? Her intuition read his thought.

"I was like a mother to Stephen," she murmured. "I'm seven years older. Mother died when he was born, and father two years later. Aunt Dorcas, his sister, brought us up. She did her best for us both. She was ever so kind; but dreadfully strict. I was always bad at heart, I'm afraid. I wanted my own way, and it brought me to what I am. But he was a dandy kid, clever and good as any one could possibly be. He seemed to take naturally to all her ideas. He was the model boy of the whole town. I'm sorry to say, I despised him for his goodness. I thought he was a sissy; maybe that's why I mothered him so much. I was 20 when Aunt Dorcas died. She left us all she had--it wasn't much, just over $2,000. We stayed on in the flat. Stephen finished his schooling; but I couldn't send him to college, though he was such a splendid scholar and took heaps of prizes. I might have worked it if I hadn't run wild. But as soon as I found myself free, I was like a crazy thing, and before I knew it I had gone wrong with a boy who came down our way fishing for the summer. He knew all the tricks. When he knew what he had done, he wouldn't marry me, but he sent me to a wicked doctor. I was sick for a long while, and somehow they found out in the town what my trouble was. When I tried to get back to my old job, I was thrown out. It was the same everywhere. I came to New York and begged my boy to be decent; to help me out about Stephen. He got him a job in his father's office.

"As for me, he was tired of my troubles. He wanted pleasure without paying for it. I got work, and found it wouldn't keep me from starving. I and another girl decided to do the usual thing. We went for the high lights on Broadway; and year after year we were driven further and further to skulk in the shadows."

She swallowed a lump in her throat. Iff seemed to be looking, not at her, but beyond her. His eyes glowed with angry bitterness. He was thinking of the stupidity of society.

"Don't you feel any resentment against your brother?" he asked tonelessly.

"Why should I? I'm proud that he is good. He's right to disown me."

"It seems that we are likely to quarrel," snorted Iff. "I prefer your career to his. You only obeyed your nature: your misfortunes come from other people's meanness, while Stephen, with every chance in his favour, turned thief and stole so stupidly that I haven't a spark of sympathy for him; his virtues make him viler."

The woman flared up in fury. "But he isn't guilty," she shouted, "how dare you?"

Iff was impressed. "I suppose you are so sure of him because you know him so well. But let me tell you that it never surprises me to find puritanically virtuous people coming a cropper, especially when they prefer their respectability to natural human feelings."

She remembered a good many similar cases. Her faith staggered for a moment, and then asserted itself with augmented certainty.

"Not Stephen," she cried. "He was always genuinely good. He never had the idea of revolt."

"My dear girl!" said Iff, "I admire you tremendously, but can't you see that you are simply arguing against yourself? Stephen, as you describe him, is simply a straw man, a weakling with no will of his own. Temptation would knock him over like a ninepin."

"Oh, how I wish I could show you how wrong you are! He wasn't merely obedient, he loved goodness for its own sake. He was active and eager to be better than he was asked to be. You know how dirty boys are; they seem to enjoy mud. Stephen could never endure a speck of dust on his clothes. His linen, his hands, his shoes--you couldn't have found dirt on them with a microscope. A boy can't do that just by passive trying to please. After Aunt Dorcas died, instead of getting slack and being influenced by my own carelessness, he got almost crazy about keeping himself clean. He read lots of learned books about germs. He was always disinfecting everything, from saucepans to doorknobs. He wouldn't kiss me for fear of germs. He always wore gloves, even at night, because of the story in a Sunday paper about the danger of infection from finger-nails. He was a joke in the office--they called him Sterilized Stephen."

Simon Iff had been twisting his mouth as if a curious flavour had touched it. He cleared his throat as he rose from his chair.

"Look here, young woman," he said, standing over her, "I doubt very much whether your sublime confidence amounts to anything; but you interest me enormously, and so does Stephen in a rather whimsical fashion. I'll look into the case for you and do what I can; but don't be silly enough to hope too much. Don't worry yourself, face the facts. Believe in yourself. Take these bills from Stephen's brother and yours; trot off to Atlantic City and let the breezes have a chance at your lungs. Come back here in a week and perhaps I may have something to tell you."

He jotted down the name and that of the Brokers'; and took her to the door himself. They shook hands. Her grasp was so steady and so firm that he felt, in spite of himself, that her faith was something more than the passionate protest of the bigot against the blasphemer who overthrows his idol.

II

The next morning, Simon Iff called on the stockbrokers. Mr. Lubeck, the senior partner, was a middle-aged man whose natural kindness of heart had not been destroyed by the racket of the Street. He shook his head when Iff explained his errand. It was evident that he thought it quixotic. But Stephen Adams had been a special favourite, and Lubeck would have done much more to restore his belief in the boy than Iff required. He explained the circumstances briefly and clearly.

"Adams worked in a compartment shut off from the main office, with the cashier Hobbs, who had been twenty years with the firm, and another assistant; Jackson, of about Stephen's own age. On the day of the theft, Jackson had been abscent--suffering from influenza. A packet of bonds had been handed to Adams that he might inscribe their numbers in the appropriate register. He was then to hand the packet to the messanger for delivery to the customer, after having placed them in an envelope and sealed them. The bonds were handed to Adams at exactly a quarter to twelve. They had been carefully checked by one of the partners on taking them from the safe, and examined by another partner. Both were absolutely sure that none of the bonds were forgeries. The forged bonds, incidentally, were poor imitations; besides which, all dealers had been warned by the Treasury that systematic attempts were being made to circulate them. Everybody was in consequence very much on his guard. It is thus certain that Adams had received the genuine bonds, and moreover, he had entered the numbers conformably to the record of the bank which had issued them.

"Adams had himself sealed the package, and handed it to the messenger, who had locked it up at once in this satchel, and gone straight to the customer. This latter had taken the envelope at once to his bank, where the cashier broke the seals, and discovered at once that all the bonds except two, those at the top and the bottom; were forgeries. The bank telephoned to Lubeck*, who called in the police. It was proved that nobody had entered the cashier's office except Hobbs, who had been out on some errand, in the building, and darted hurriedly in for his hat and coat, and out again in less than half a minute. His haste had indeed attracted general notice. Detectives found him at his usual restaurant talking volubly and excitedly to a friend. He explained his unusual conduct as due to sudden and severe trouble in his family; enquiry confirmed his statements. He had no discoverable financial anxieties, and was an old and trusted servant of the firm. It was not possible for him to have substituted the forged bonds in full view of Adams who was actually engaged upon them. Hobbs swore that in his hurry he had taken no particular notice of what Adams was doing--yet he was conscious of a vague impression that his sudden entry startled his assistant, and that there was a sort of shuffling among the papers.