Motion Picture Story Magazine (Feb-Jul 1911)

52 THE MOTION PICTURE STORY MAGAZINE. Yo' alius did natcherly 'spise ter git up. Mes Emmie she used ter say to me, 'Cyrus, go lif dat chile outter his bed/ I wish'd she could see yo' now/' "Dear mother!" said James, softly, for his voice was sober now. "I wish she could, too, now particularly. I never wanted her so much before. It would make her so happy/7 "What dat, Marse James, 'twould make her happy?" "You sly old rascal, I believe you know already. What's that you are fooling with?" "I's jes 'mirin' dis he-ar rose what yo' put in de glass uv water las' night." James laughed. "You have guessed my secret, Cyrus. Well, isn't it great? Isn't Miss Ware a wonder and isn't your good-for-nothing 'Marse James' a lucky beggar to have won such a prize ?" "Mes Mabel, she mighty pretty an' mighty soft-spoken an1 she mo' like 'ar folks 'dan de res' uv de ladies what I sees up he-ar, but she mighty lucky ter be gwine ter marry er TenBroek." James TenBroek laughed again. "Cyrus, your antebellum ideas in these surroundings are humorous. Why, Mabel Ware, apart from being the loveliest and one of the most sought after girls in Chicago, is the daughter of the most prominent grain operator in town. You know, Cyrus, that stocks are more than coronets — , but clear out while I get into my clothes !" In a few minutes the old darkey thrust his head in at the door. "Marse James, a pusson says he wants ter speak with yo' on the telephone." "Take the message," answered James. "He says," announced Cyrus, "dat de margin 'bout used up an yo' better kiver." "The margin about used up and I had better cover," -repeated James, frowning. "Say I will be down at the office in twenty minutes." "I don't like this," he went on to himself. "Things should have taken a different turn yesterday. If I am not careful I will be in too deep, but I do want to make money, a good lot of it, for Mabel's sake." As he was leaving his rooms, old Cyrus again appeared. "Marse James, dat Mester Wood come ter see yer last night." "Wood? Did he leave any message ?" "No, sar; he didn't 'zakly leave no message, but he aksed me ef I know'd whar yo' was at. I tolt him I didn't know, but I 'specs yo' was callin' on Mes Mabel. Den he callt me a impudent nigger, an' he slammed the do' when he lef. Yo' better watch out fer dat onery man, Marse James !" "Oh, get out, Cyrus; I rather think Wood did try for Mabel himself, but the days of 'coffee and pistols for two' are over, and your Marse James is quite safe." Justin Wood indeed tried to win the hand of Mabel Ware. Her lovely person quite satisfied his taste, and her position, as the daughter of Frederick Ware, satisfied his ambition. He had believed that he would be successful in his suit, until the handsome young southerner appeared as a rival and, in a few months, was apparently succeeding in winning Mabel's love. Smarting under the seeming defeat, he began to plan the ruin of his successful rival. Wood as a broker knew of young TenBroek's heavy speculation in wheat, and guessed that, if the quotations continued to fall, he would not have sufficient ready money to cover his holdings. Wood and a few of his friends had been trying, in a small way, to manipulate the market, and to pull down prices for their own ends ; and now, with this additional reason for a bear raid, he gathered his friends together, determined to smash the market and James TenBroek at the same time. There followed a week of torture for James. He had over-reached himself in buying, and when a few days later a margin call was delivered at his house, he let the paper fall unheeded from his hands, and stared with miserable eyes at a portrait of Mabel. This meant ruin for him, absolute ruin, and