desisted. He feared that he might injure Delkin’s pride should he broach the subject of his own accord.
It was partly the thought of Delkin that made Graham use discretion in his philanthropic transactions. He did not wish to exhaust his funds; there might be a future time when he could put money to emergency use. Moreover, Graham had reserved a large amount for a specific purpose - to restore to certain banks the funds which he had robbed.
This, of course, Graham intended to do by proxy. In summing up the total of his depredations, Graham found that they amounted to no more than a quarter of a million dollars. Cash gained at the points of guns had often proven very disappointing in its sum.
Graham was also conscious of the impressions which he was creating. Those people who believed him foolish and those who suspected him of hidden purposes were ones whom he intended to spike. This caused him to ease his release of cash.
His most wary policy, however, was that of keeping all his dealings within a limited territory. Southwark was far from New York. Graham was not anxious to have reports of his wealth reach Carma Urstead, who he knew was there, nor Wolf Daggert, who might, by this time, be back in Manhattan.
GRAHAM was living in his uncle’s old home. Among the friends whom he had made in Southwark was a young man named Harry Vincent. This chap was interested in real-estate development. He had but recently settled down in Southwark. A native of Michigan, Vincent had, however, spent much time in New York. He became a frequent visitor to Wellerton’s new home.
Despite his wealth, despite his willingness to make amends for his past, Graham Wellerton felt that a great barrier lay between himself and Eunice Delkin. He met the girl occasionally on the street and always paused to chat with her for a few minutes. Both, however, tactfully avoided all mention of the past.
It was bitter to be living here in Southwark and yet be forced, in justice, to avoid a girl whom he admired so greatly as he did Eunice Delkin. That was Graham Wellerton’s one sorrow. Time and again, he felt a surge of resentment toward Carma Urstead, the adventuress who had tricked him into marriage. Graham felt that he could wipe out his criminal past; but he could never be free to seek a woman’s love while Carma still remained.
In the periods of righteous exuberance which dominated his new life, Graham was so taken up with many affairs that he had little time to study individuals. In the midst of his mad whirl of monetary restitution, he could think only of new ways to help the community. Hence his career became a matter of easy routine, with no forebodings of approaching disaster.
The end of the first month found Graham Wellerton completely oblivious to any thoughts of hostility on the part of other persons. His only worry concerned Ralph Delkin. Graham knew that adversity could produce strange changes in individuals; and with his knowledge that Delkin’s affairs were troublous, Graham tried in vain to think of some way that he might approach the manufacturer with an offer of financial aid.
Hence when trouble did strike, it came with the effect of a bombshell. In one brief episode, Graham Wellerton found himself in a terrible situation which he had lulled himself into believing would be impossible.
IT happened on an evening when Graham was at home. Harry Vincent had dropped in for a chat. The two young men were indulging in reminiscences; and both, by natural coincidence, were using discretion in their talk.
Graham Wellerton, jocular and sophisticated, was taking great care not to mention anything that would give an inkling to his old career of crime.
Harry Vincent, pleasant and frank in manner, was carefully avoiding any statement that might reveal him as The Shadow’s agent. Harry was just lighting his pipe when the doorbell rang.
“Sit still, Vincent,” urged Graham. “Probably someone to see me for only a few minutes.”
“Think I’ll be running along,” responded Harry, donning his hat and coat to accompany his host to the door.
No one was in sight as Graham opened the door. Harry stepped out upon the porch. Graham saw him tip his hat as a figure moved in from the side. Harry kept on; Graham stepped back as a woman entered.
Had Graham Wellerton looked beyond this visitor, he would have seen Harry Vincent step to the side of the path and wait. But Graham had no thought of what might be happening outside. Harry Vincent had passed completely from his mind. Totally dazed, Graham was closing the door and was staring in consternation at the face of the feminine visitor who had come to see him.
All the misery of the past seemed suddenly hoisted upon Graham Wellerton’s shoulders.
The woman who had entered his home was Carma!
CHAPTER XIX
THE DEMAND
To Graham Wellerton’s dazed eyes, Carma’s painted face was a sneering mask. The young man stood stock- still as the woman strolled past him, entered the living room and settled herself in a comfortable chair. Despairingly, Graham followed. Carma greeted him with a coarse laugh.
“Not glad to see your long-lost wife, eh?” the woman jeered. “Thought you’d double-crossed me, big boy?”
“When it comes to double-crossing,” returned Graham huskily, “you are the real artist.”
Carma took the words as a compliment. She tilted back her head and laughed. She lighted a cigarette, then eyed Graham with a cold glare of malice.
“You’re worth a lot of dough, aren’t you?” questioned the woman.
“That’s my affair,” retorted Graham.
“Spending it pretty free, I hear,” was Carma’s remark. “Doing nice things around this place. Gone goody- goody, haven’t you?”
Graham made no reply.
“Well” - Carma’s tone became scoffing - “you can spend it the way you want - provided I get my share. I’m giving you a break. Pay me off and we’re quits.”
Graham maintained his silence.
“Fifty-fifty,” Carma kept talking. “That’s on the original amount. Get the idea, big boy?”
“Your demands are moderate, aren’t they?” quizzed Graham, in a sarcastic tone.
“They are,” agreed Carma. “That’s not all gravy - by a long shot. I’m not the only one who is coming in for a big profit.”
“You mean -“
“That this may be a hick town, but there’s people here who know their onions. Get that? Flatter yourself, old bean - you fooled me right enough. I’d never have looked for you here, but someone sent for me.”
“Someone in Southwark?”
“Someone in Southwark,” sneered Carma. “Laugh that off. A small-town bozo with big-town ideas.”
“Whom do you mean?”
“Guess for yourself.”
“You mean - someone who learned that I was crooked? How could anyone here have landed that fact?”
“I’m not telling all I know,” Carma laughed. “You muffed things a bit - that’s all - around the time your uncle took the bump. Thought you had good friends in this burg - people who wouldn’t get envious when they saw you throwing your cash away, like the sap you are.
“Well, someone got ideas - and I’m not telling you how or why. The finish of the big idea was to bring me here. Little Carma has a way of getting dough - so far as you’re concerned. You’ve heard my terms. I want five million dollars.”
“How soon?” questioned Graham sharply.
“Pretty quick,” taunted Carma. “You’d, better start thinking about it pronto. Fix it up tomorrow. Then you can go down to see your lawyer the day after. I’m staying at the Southwark House. Carma Urstead is my name - Carma Wellerton to you.”
“When are you coming back here?”
“Tomorrow night.”
“And you expect me to have all the arrangements prepared?”
