Henry placed the gun case in his left hand, then waved his right in front of her face. "Alice," he said, "you look like a dewdrop on a morning flower. This is for you, as well."
A beautiful, dew-kissed, blue-violet wildflower appeared in his hand. Alice gasped, her hand flying to her mouth.
"Is this… is this magic?" she asked, her voice a whisper as she took the flower. "You learned it? But I thought you hated George's tricks."
"People change, Alice," Henry said gently. "Just as you have. The girl I used to know would have opened that gun case and fired a few rounds to test the feel of the pistol by now."
The light in her bright eyes dimmed. "You're right," she said sadly. "I haven't fired a single shot since I came to New York."
"It's alright," he said, his voice comforting. "When you get back to Frisco, you can shoot as much as you like. And you'll have the world's greatest gunslinger as your personal instructor."
A laugh burst from her lips, as bright and beautiful as the flower in her hand. "Henry, your ego has gotten a lot bigger, too!"
"I'm simply stating a fact," he said, a look of mock dejection on his face. "But I am constantly misunderstood." He made a show of putting the gun case back inside his coat.
"Alright, alright, I believe you," she said, laughing as she reached out to search his coat again.
The two of them fell into a comfortable, playful banter, and the last remnants of the four years that had separated them vanished without a trace.
But the happy moment soon faded. Alice's expression turned serious.
"Henry," she said, "I need you to come with me somewhere tomorrow morning. My best friend from high school, Rachel, is being harassed by a group of thugs over her father's debts. I'm going with her to try and negotiate with them."
Henry agreed without a moment's hesitation. "Of course. Tell me everything."
"Rachel's father was a wealthy merchant," she began. "He owned two trading ships down at the South Street Seaport. But six months ago, her mother passed away. Her father fell into alcoholism, and then… someone led him to an underground casino."
"He lost everything. The ships, their house in the Upper West Side… it still wasn't enough to cover the debt. The interest was too high. Rachel was only able to finish school because her tuition had already been paid."
"She's strong," Alice continued, her voice filled with a mixture of pride and sorrow. "She still graduated with honors. She can't afford to go to college, but she managed to get a teaching position at a public school."
"But her father, Charles, he disappeared a few weeks ago. And now the loan sharks have come for Rachel."
"She was smart. Her father sent a warning through a friend, and she got out of her rented apartment and came to me. I hid her at one of our family's farmsteads on Second Avenue. But they found her a few days ago. They don't dare to storm a Sinclair property, but they've threatened to go to her new school."
"And what is the plan for tomorrow?" Henry asked.
Alice's hands were clenched so tightly her knuckles were white. "Rachel wants to negotiate a payment plan, to pay them a portion of her salary every month."
"But I know it's useless," she admitted. "Her father, Robert, only borrowed about six thousand dollars. But the interest is thirty percent a month, compounded. A month ago, after they had already taken the house and the ships, she still owed over nine thousand dollars. And because the thugs scared off any other buyers, her family's assets were seized at less than a fifth of their market value."
Henry knew exactly what this was. Robert hadn't just had a run of bad luck. He had been hunted. A teacher's salary was twenty or thirty dollars a month. The interest on the debt was over $2,700 a month. It was an impossible situation.
"I'm going to try and reason with them," Alice said, her voice filled with a naive determination. "I'll tell them the debt is Robert's, not Rachel's. And they've already taken more than double what he originally owed."
"And if that doesn't work," she finished, her voice barely a whisper, "I'll have to find her another job."
Henry knew how difficult that would be. For a woman in this era, the options were grim: a back-breaking job in a textile factory, or a life of manual labor. A teaching position was the best she could have hoped for. It would be easier to find her a good husband than a good job.
"I was going to ask my father's head of security to come with me, but…"
Henry understood. Her father, Marvin, would never get involved in such a messy, low-class affair. A girl from a good school, a good family, her luck was good enough to have a friend like Alice. But in this world, that only went so far.
"When and where?" Henry asked, his voice calm and direct. "And do you need me to pick you up?"
"Could you? That would be best. Nine o'clock. We'll go to the farmstead to get Rachel, and then to her old house in Midtown. The thugs are waiting there."
"I'll be here," he said.
"Oh, thank you, Henry. This has been a nightmare."
"You're welcome," he said. "But you have to promise me one thing."
"What?"
"Never go to a dangerous place like that by yourself again. And never get involved with men like that. If you have a problem, you come to me. Or you go to your father. Is that understood?"