Motion Picture Story Magazine (Feb-Jul 1911)

AGE VS. YOUTH. 95 There was a note of grim determination in his commands. In Jack Norton's offices across the street much the same scene was being enacted, but the note of confidence was lacking. All the members of the firm were standing anxiously over the ticker. Percy and Harold were openly sneering, and Claude was ineffectually imploring Jack to "do something." But this "something" was of too indefinite a nature to be of much use as a practical suggestion. Finally Percy and Harold put the situation plainly before him. He had no more money, no more collateral to put up at the banks. The ticker was rapidly telling a tale of ruin. In an hour he would be wiped off the financial map. For a moment Jack gave up in despair. Then an inspiration seized him. There was one person on earth who could possibly save him, one person before whom he could humble himself— Nora Blake. He siezed his hat, and left his companions gaping with wonder as he hurried down to his waiting automobile. A swift command to the chauffeur, and the next minute they were speeding thru the streets at a rate far greater than the law allows. Ten minutes later they had drawn up in front of James Blake's house, and Jack was ringing furiously. "Tell Miss Bhke that I must see her at once," he said to the startled butler. He gave her no time for speech when she entered the parlor. "Nora !" he cried, "if you ever loved me, if those mad, sweet moments meant anything to you, if that brief glimpse of heaven marked your life as it has marked mine, you must help me this once !" "What has happened? — what can I do, Jack?" asked Nora sadly. "Father is determined to ruin you." "You know then that he blocks every move I make, that lie scorns to guess what I am goino; to do and forestalls me, that no cloak that I throw about my movements seems too thick for him to penetrate? Nora, I am going to him to plead with him, to humble myself before him, even as I humbled him in my raw egotism and silly, boyish pride, five years ago. But it will be no use, Nora, I shall be ruined — if I go alone." "You mean," the girl said slowly, "that I should go with you, that I should help you?" A flush, of which he could not divine the meaning, had spread over her lovely countenance. "Yes, that's what I mean, Nora," he begged. "You have only a minute to decide. In half an hour I shall be a ruined man. Will you go, Nora? Will you save my name ?" The beautiful young daughter of James Blake hesitated. A struggle of conflicting emotions was taking place in her loyal, womanly heart. "Yes," said Nora suddenly, "I'll go. The only thing in the world about father that isn't splendid and noble is that terrible spirit of revenge. Wait, I'll get my wraps." She seized a cloak from the hallway rack, and flung it hastily about her shoulders. Jack helped her into the automobile, and the financier's daughter, and the man the financier had sworn to ruin, the beautiful girl and her hopeless lover, sped rapidly back toward the center of the town. "I think that's the final turn of the screw," James Blake was saying to his partners. "I hear from the floor of the exchange that there have been no orders from John Norton & Co. for the last half hour or more. I think I've got him this time." To his surprise his auditors failed to look sympathetic. "Seems a pity to wipe out the old name," Burke muttered. "Yes, let up on the poor kid," ventured Wilson. "Well, you two are a pretty pair of milksops!" exclaimed Blake. "Want to let up on a man who ruined yon for no reason but a whim ! Who made1 your hearts bleed with worry for your families, made you two tired old men walk the streets like a couple o^ beggars !" "Seems to me," observed Burke