Aladdin & Co.: A Romance of Yankee Magic

land everything, and couldn't handle the catch if we did. In fact, for present purposes, isn't it better to have her refuse?" This incident was the hint upon which our "Syndicate," as it came to be called, acted from time to time, in making fabulous offers to every Biddy Collins in town. "Offer twenty thousand," Jim would say. "The more you bid the less apt is he to accept; he's a Biddy Collins." And whatever Mr. Elkins advised was done. There were eight or ten of us in the "Syndicate," dubbed by Jim "The Crew," among whom were Tolliver, Macdonald, and Will Lattimore. But the inner circle, now drawing closer and closer together, were Elkins, our ruling spirit; Hinckley, our great force in the banking world; and myself. Soon, I was given to understand, Mr. Cornish was to take his place as one of us. He and Jim had long known each other, and Mr. Elkins had the utmost confidence in Mr. Cornish's usefulness in what he called "the thought-transference department." Elkins & Barslow kept their offices open night and day, almost, and the number of typewriters and bookkeepers grew astoundingly. I became almost a stranger to my wife. I got hurried glimpses of Miss Trescott and her mother at the hotel, and knew that she and Alice were becoming fast friends; but so far the social prominence which the _Herald_ had predicted for us had failed to arrive. This, to be sure, was our own fault. Miss Addison soon gave us up as not available for the church and Sunday-school functions to which she devoted herself. Her family connections would have made her _the_ social leader had it not been for the severity of her views and her assumption of the character of the devotee--in spite of which she protestingly went almost everywhere. Antonia Hinckley, however, was frankly fond of a good time, and with her dashing and almost hoydenish character easily took the leadership from Miss Addison; and Miss Hinckley sought diligently for means by which we could be properly launched. As I left the office one day, a voice from the curb called my name. It was Miss Hinckley in a smart trap, to which was harnessed a beautiful horse, standard bred, one could see at a glance. I obeyed the summons, and stepped beside the equipage. "I want to scold you," said she. "Society is being defrauded of the good things which your coming promised. Have you taken a vow of seclusion, or what?" "I've been spinning about in the maelstrom of business," I replied. "But do not be uneasy; some time we shall take up the matter of inflicting ourselves, and pursue it as vigorously as we now follow our vocation." "Wouldn't you like to get into the trap, and take a spin of another sort?" said she. "I'll deposit you safely with Mrs. Barslow in time for tea." I got in, glad of the drive, and for ten minutes her horse was sent at such a pace that conversation was difficult. Then he was slowed down to a walk, his head toward home. We chatted of casual things--the scenery, the horse, the splendid color of the sunset. I was becoming interested in her. "I had almost forgotten that there were such things in Lattimore," said I, referring to the topics of our talk. "I have become so saturated with lands and lots." "I don't know much about business," said she, "and I think I'll improve my opportunity by learning something. And, first, aren't men sometimes losers by the dishonesty of those who act for them--agents, they are called, aren't they?" Such, I admitted, was unfortunately the case. "I should be sorry for--any one I liked--to be injured in such a way.... Now you must understand how the things you men are interested in permeate the society of us women. Why, mamma has almost forgotten the enslavement of our sex, in these new things which have changed our old town so much; so you mustn't wonder if I have heard something of a purely business nature. I heard that Captain Tolliver was about to sell Mr. Elkins the land where the old foundry is, over there, for twenty thousand dollars. Now, papa says it isn't worth it; and I know--Sadie Allen and I were in school together, and she comes over from Fairchild several times a year to see me, and I go there, you know; and that land is in her father's estate--I know that the executor has told Captain Tolliver to sell it for ever so much less than that. And it seemed so funny, as the Captain was doing the business for both sides--isn't it odd, now?" "It does seem so," said I, "and it is very kind of you. I'll talk with Mr. Elkins about it. Please be careful, Miss Hinckley, or you'll drop the wheel in that washout!" She reined up her horse and began speeding him again. I could see that this conversation had embarrassed her somehow. Her color was high, and her grip of the reins not so steady as at starting. This attempt to do Jim a favor was something she considered as of a good deal of consequence. I began to note more and more what a really splendid woman she was--tall, fair, her tailor-made gown rounding to the full, firm curves of her figure, her fearless horsemanship hinting at the possession of large and positive traits of character. "We women," said she, "might as well abandon all the things commonly known as feminine. What good do they do us?" "They gratify your sense of the beautiful," suggested I. "You know, Mr. Barslow," said she, "that it's not our own sense of the beautiful, mainly, that we seek to gratify; and if the eyes for which they are intended are looking into ledgers and blind to everything except dollar-signs, what's the use?" "Go down to the seashore," said I, "where the people congregate who have nothing to do." "Not I," said she; "I'll go into real estate, and become as blind as the rest!" Jim paid no attention to my chaffing when I spoke of his conquest, as I called Antonia. In fact, he seemed annoyed, and for a long time said nothing. "You can see how the Allen estate proposition stands," said he, at last. "To let that sell for less than twenty thousand might cost us ten times that amount in lowering the prevailing standard of values. The old rule that we should buy in the cheapest market and sell in the dearest is suspended. Base is the slave who pays--less than the necessary and proper increase." CHAPTER X. We Dedicate Lynhurst Park. The Hindu adept sometimes suspends before the eyes of his subject a bright ball of carnelian or crystal, in the steady contemplation of which the sensitive swims off into the realms of subjectivity--that mysterious bourn from whence no traveler brings anything back. J. Bedford Cornish was Mr. Elkins's glittering ball; his psychic subject was the world in general and Lattimore in particular. Scientific principles, confirmed by experience, led us to the conclusion that the attitude of fixed contemplation carried with it some nervous strain, ought to be of limited duration, and hence that Mr. Cornish should remove from our midst the glittering mystery of his presence, lest familiarity should breed contempt. So in about ten days he went away, giving to the _Herald_ a parting interview, in which he expressed unbounded delight with Lattimore, and hinted that he might return for a longer stay. Editorially, the _Herald_ expressed the hope that this characteristically veiled allusion to a longer sojourn might mean that Mr. Cornish had some idea of becoming a citizen of Lattimore. This would denote, the editorial continued, that men like Mr. Cornish, accustomed to the mighty world-pulse of New York, could find objects of pursuit equally worthy in Lattimore. "Which is mixed metaphor," Mr. Giddings admitted in confidence; "but," he continued, "if metaphors, like drinks, happen to be more potent mixed, the _Herald_ proposes to mix 'em." All these things consumed time, and still our life was one devoted to business exclusively. At last Mr. Elkins himself, urged, I feel sure, by Antonia Hinckley, gave evidence of weariness. "Al," said he one day, "don't you think it's about time to go ashore for a carouse?" "Unless something in the way of a let-up comes soon," said I, "the position of lieutenant, or first mate, or whatever my job is piratically termed, will become vacant. The pace is pretty rapid. Last night I dreamed that the new Hotel Elkins was founded on my chest; and I have had troubles enough of the same kind before to show me that my nervous system is slowly ravelling out." "I have arrangements made, in my mind, for a sort of al fresco function, to come off about the time Cornish gets back with our London visitor," he replied, "which ought to knit up the ravelled sleeve better than new. I'm going to dedicate Lynhurst Park to the nymphs and deities of sport--which wrinkled care derides." "I hadn't heard of Lynhurst Park," I was forced to say. "I'm curious to know, first, who named it, and, second, where it is." "Didn't I show you those blueprints?" he asked. "An oversight I assure you. As for the scheme, you suggested it yourself that night we first drove out to Trescott's. Don't you remember saying something about 'breathing space for the populace'? Well, I had the surveys made at once; contracted for the land, all but what Bill owns of it, which we'll have to get later; and had a landscapist out from Chicago to direct us as to what we ought to admire in improving the place. As for the name, I'm indebted to kind nature, which planted the valley in basswood, and to Josie, who contributed the philological knowledge and the taste. That's the street-car line," said he, unrolling an elaborate plat and pointing. "We may throw it over to the west to develop section seven, if we close for it. Otherwise, that line is the very thing." Our street-railway franchise had been granted by the Lattimore city council--they would have granted the public square, had we asked for it in the potent name of "progress"--and Cornish was even now making arrangements for placing our bonds. The impossible of less than a year ago was now included in the next season's program, as an inconsiderable feature of a great project for a street-railway system, and the "development" of hundreds of acres of land. The place so to be named Lynhurst Park was most agreeably reached by a walk up Brushy Creek from Lattimore. Such a stroll took one into the gorge, where the rocks shelved toward each other, until their crowning fringes of cedar almost interlocked, like the eyelashes of drowsiness. Down there in the twilight one felt a sense of being defrauded, in contemplation of the fact that the stream was troutless: it was such an ideal place for trout. The quiet and mellow gloom made the gorge a favorite trysting-place, and perhaps the cool-blooded stream-folk had fled from the presence of the more fervid dwellers on the banks. In the crevices of the rocks were the nests of the village pigeons. The combined effects of all these causes was to make this a spot devoted to billing and cooing. Farther up the stream the rock walls grew lower and parted wider, islanding a rich bottom of lush grass-plot, alternating with groves of walnut, linden, and elm. This was the Lynhurst Park of the blueprints and plats. Trescott's farm lay on the right bank, and others on either side; but the houses were none of them near the stream, and the entire walk was wild and woodsy-looking. None but nature-lovers came that way. Others drove out by the road past Trescott's, seeing more of corn and barn, but less of rock, moss, and fern. Mr. Cornish was to return on Friday with the Honorable De Forest Barr-Smith, who lived in London and "represented English capital." To us Westerners the very hyphen of his name spoke eloquently of L s. d. Through him we hoped to get the money to build that street railway.