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Yet if you had played a +larger part in my life I should have been so spoiled that there +would be no living with me. And I'm spoiled enough, God knows!</p> +<p>In the Iliad you wrote for me, and I "drawed" for us both, 'twas +Hector fixed Achilles. When I sat at your right hand and your +sharp, swift knife went into the turkey, 'twas I that got the +tit-bits and the oyster. And all was right with the world +<i>then</i>, I can tell you!</p> +<p>We have ridden together over old battlefields, and I have worn +the epaulettes and the swords in the attic, and listened to tales +of the great brother who died of the war, and whose bull-terrier +Jerry chased the cannon-balls at Gettysburg. Oh, the cutlass +captured from the Confederate ram, and the wooden canteen, and the +Confederate money (in a frame)! I was the hunter that used to +handle the Colt (with the ships engraved on the cylinder) that shot +the buffalo from the rear platform of the train, and was stolen by +a genuine thief. Is Jeff Davis's bible that he gave to the brother +who with Major R. caused game chickens to fight for the edification +of his captivity still in your upper bureau drawer?</p> +<p>Are the photographs that General Gilmore had taken of Charleston +siege still in the bookcase with the glass doors? Or have they +vanished like the child's footprint that I made for you when we +were planting the--the "plant," and I was going away?</p> +<p>Time has passed. <i>Grand</i> nephews are as young and hopeful +as nephews used to be. <i>I</i> have written innumerable miserable +grovelling tales. I dedicate this one to you; despairing at last of +writing that masterpiece which should have been worthy of you.</p> +<p>But tell me this: Is there still a little corner of your heart +that I may call mine? a corner into which no one else is allowed to +put--yes--to put <i>foot</i>? Oh, but I should be glad to know +that!</p> +<p>G.M.</p> +<p>BEDFORD, <i>February</i>, 1913.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2>LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> +<p><a href="#frontispiece.jpg">"Are you in love with me now?" he +asked wistfully <i>Frontispiece</i>.</a></p> +<p><a href="#page006.jpg">She wished that she might die, or, +infinitely better, that she had never been born.</a></p> +<p><a href="#page016.jpg">She had on her work-apron, but she was +not working.</a></p> +<p><a href="#page028-029.jpg">He praised, blamed, patronized, +puffed his pipe, and dwelt with superiority on topics which are +best left alone.</a></p> +<p><a href="#page050.jpg">She took some coins from her purse and +dropped them into the tin cup.</a></p> +<p><a href="#page072-073.jpg">The young man knelt at the door by +which he had entered and began to remove its ancient lock.</a></p> +<p><a href="#page074.jpg">Harry, the workman, ... rose to his feet, +and turned to Barbara with a certain quiet eagerness.</a></p> +<p><a href="#page080.jpg">But Barbara and Wilmot Allen, well used +to even larger and more stately rooms, chatted ... as two +children.</a></p> +<p><a href="#page088.jpg">She faced him, still scornful, but white +now, and biting her lips.</a></p> +<p><a href="#page098-099.jpg">In a few minutes Bubbles returned. +"He's just sitting there with a hell of a face on him," he said, +"and she's working like a dynamo".</a></p> +<p><a href="#page128-129.jpg">Dr. Ferris frowned. "I'm not trying +to interfere," he said. "You're old enough to know what's best for +you".</a></p> +<p><a href="#page134.jpg">"Some unknown person," said Barbara, "has +formed the habit of sending me flowers".</a></p> +<p><a href="#page142.jpg">In the dim light she looked wonderfully +young and beautiful.</a></p> +<p><a href="#page146.jpg">He turned with one foot on the sidewalk, +and one in the cab.... "Here I wishes you salutations".</a></p> +<p><a href="#page148.jpg">Wilmot Allen took her in to dinner, and +looked much love at her, and talked much nonsense.</a></p> +<p><a href="#page162-163.jpg">He saw her with the vase of jonquils +in her hand ... and his stout heart failed him a little.</a></p> +<p><a href="#page163.jpg">When Bubbles had trotted off, she dropped +into her chair and cried.</a></p> +<p><a href="#page172.jpg">The door opened, and Rose staggered into +the room.</a></p> +<p><a href="#page210-211.jpg">And in his soul the legless man was +playing only for Barbara.</a></p> +<p><a href="#page224.jpg">"'D afternoon, Mr. Lichtenstein," said +Bubbles.</a></p> +<p><a href="#page236.jpg">"I want me thumb bandaged".</a></p> +<p><a href="#page242.jpg">She said in a small; surprised voice, +"Why, it's finished".</a></p> +<p><a href="#page246-247.jpg">In that instant the legless man +overreached himself and fell heavily.</a></p> +<p><a href="#page248.jpg">Barbara ... dashed into her dressing-room +and locked the door behind her.</a></p> +<p><a href="#page256.jpg">They passed out of the house and by +marble steps into the first and most formal of their many +gardens.</a></p> +<p><a href="#page258-259.jpg">"What is Wilmot doing with himself +these days?" "He went away," said Barbara, her eyes +troubled.</a></p> +<p><a href="#page280-281.jpg">He caught her by the wrist, drew her +to her feet, and into the room.</a></p> +<p><a href="#page290.jpg">"I twisted the truth out of him, and then +flung him over a cliff".</a></p> +<p><a href="#page298.jpg">"Climb out of that chair, and let me out +of this house".</a></p> +<p><a href="#page306.jpg">"I've seen that man. I was writing notes +in the summer house when he came".</a></p> +<p><a href="#page308-309.jpg">"Read that, father".</a></p> +<p><a href="#page340-341.jpg">The engineer made generous terms +across the dinner-table.</a></p> +<p><a href="#page342.jpg">"You will," said Barbara, "when the +things dry".</a></p> +<p><a href="#page344-345.jpg">They were much amused with Bubbles, +who came out to them for Christmas vacation.</a></p> +<p><a href="#page346.jpg">"And when you think," said she, "that +some women spend the best years of their lives making +<i>statues</i>!"</a></p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h1>THE PENALTY</h1> +<h2><a name="I"></a>I</h2> +<br> +<p>The number of love affairs which intervened between Barbara +Ferris's first one, when she was eleven, and her twenty-second +birthday could not have been counted on the fingers of her two +hands. Many boys, many men, had seemed wonderfully attractive to +her. She did not know why. She knew only that the attraction seemed +strong and eternal while it lasted, and that it never lasted long. +She was sixteen before she began to consider herself a heartless, +flirtatious, unstable, jilting sort of a girl. When she made this +discovery, she was terribly ashamed, and for one long depressing +year fell in love with nobody, became very shy, and hated herself. +It was during this year that she had her first, last, and only +touch of mania. It lasted only a little while and was not acute. +She got the idea that she was being watched, spied on, and +followed. But she was too strong in body and mind to give in for +long to so silly an hallucination. And when she had dismissed the +second man and her maid, who had particularly excited her +suspicions, the mania left her, as a dream leaves at waking.</p> +<p>In her seventeenth year she was presented to society, and became +an immense favorite. There were excellent reasons for this: she was +lovely to look at, she would inherit a great deal of money, she had +charming natural manners, and she was sweet-tempered.</p> +<p>During her second season she had an unpleasant experience. She +had almost reached an understanding with a certain young man with +whom she fancied herself in love. They were spending a Saturday to +Monday at a great place on Long Island. On Sunday night, her host, +a man old enough to be her father, invited her to see his rose +garden by moonlight. She accepted this invitation as a matter of +course. Pacing down a path between tall privet hedges, her host, +who for some minutes seemed to have lost the use of his tongue, +made her a sudden impassioned declaration of love, seized her in +his arms, and kissed her wherever he could with a kind of dreadful +fury. For half a minute she stood still as a statue. Then, crimson +with shame and anger, she wrenched free, and struck him heavy blows +on the face and head with her strong young fists. She beat him, not +indeed to insensibility, but to his senses. They returned to the +house after a time, and entered the drawing-room talking in lazy, +natural voices and praising the beauty of the night and of the +garden. Not even Barbara's lover suspected that anything out of the +common had happened.</p> +<p>Barbara, having played half a dozen rubbers of bridge with the +great skill and sweet temper which were natural to her, excused +herself, went to her room, and cried half the night. It was not the +shame of having been forcibly kissed that sickened her of herself, +but the unforgettable, unforgivable fact that toward the last of +that furious kissing she had found a certain low feline pleasure in +the kisses. She wished that she might die, or, infinitely better, +that she had never been born.</p> +<p>It seemed terrible to her that she could at once be in love with +one man and enjoy the kisses of another. She had heard of girls who +were thus, and had for them the contempt which they deserved. And +yet it seemed that she was one of them; neither better nor worse. +What Barbara did not realize was, that in the first place she was +not really in love with anybody and never had been, and that it was +not she herself who enjoyed being kissed by a man to whom she was +indifferent, neither liking nor loathing, but nature, which for +reasons, or perhaps only whims, of its own, tempts the cell to +divide and the flower to go to seed.</p> +<p>Through the tangle of her love affairs Wilmot Allen threaded a +path of hope, despair, and cynicism. There were times when she +seemed to have a return of her childhood infatuation for him; there +were times when he feared that in one of her moments of +impressionable enthusiasm she would marry some other man in haste, +and repent at leisure. And there were the cynical intervals, when +it seemed to him that he could do without her, and that nothing was +worth while but enjoyment, both base and innocent, and +pleasure.</p> +<p>During Wilmot's junior year at New Haven, his father's +sensational, dissipated, and stock-gambling career came to a sudden +end. There was even a shadow on the name. He had done something +<i>really</i> discreditable, something of course to do with money; +since a man who is <i>merely</i> a gambler, a drunkard, and a Don +Juan may with ease keep upon good terms with society.</p> +<p>Wilmot Allen failed, at least without honor, filled himself full +of brandy, cocked a forty-five-calibre revolver, put the muzzle in +his mouth, pulled the trigger, blew off the back of his head, and +was "accidentally shot while cleaning the weapon."</p> +<p>The real tragedy was that so good a career as the son's should +have come to so untimely an end in so good a collegiate world as +Yale. He stood well in his class, he had played right tackle for +two seasons and was heir apparent to the captaincy; he was well +beloved and would have received an election to a senior society in +the spring. But the solid ground being withdrawn from under his +feet--in other words, his allowance from his father--he left amid +universal regret, and found himself a very small person in a very +great city; worse, a youth who had always had everything, loved +pleasure, lights, games, and color, and who now had no visible +means of support.</p> +<br> +<a name="page006.jpg"></a> +<p class="ctr"><img src="images/page006.jpg" width="50%" alt= +""><br> +<b>She wished that she might die, or, infinitely better, that she +had never been born.</b></p> +<br> +<p>Friends found him a position in Wall Street. Being young, +attractive, a good "mixer," not in the least shy, he was given a +handsome "entertaining" allowance and told to bring in business. So +he foregathered with out-of-town magnates, made the city a +pleasant, familiar place to them, and brought much of their money +into the firm's office. When Barbara was kind he despised his +anomalous position and strove to free himself from it; but even the +best man has to live.</p> +<p>And during those intervals when he thought he could do without +her, Wilmot sank deeper and deeper into methods of self-advancement +which, if not actually base and culpable, at least smirched the +finer qualities of his nature, and hardened his heart.</p> +<p>If the father's heritage, drink and women, were spared him, or +at least that part of him which was really noble, a love of +cleanness, clear-mindedness, and purity, died hard. But gambling +was second nature to him. He could not enjoy a game unless he had +something on it; and all book-makers and proprietors of +gambling-houses were friends of his and called him by his first +name. Sometimes through a series of lucky turns he rose to heights +of picturesque affluence; more often he was stone-broke; but so +much money passed through his hands in the course of a year that it +was always possible for him to borrow and live well enough on +credit. Money became his passion, not for its own sake, not for the +sake of what it could buy, but because it was a game upon which the +best wits of the world have been engaged for ages and ages--and +because you have to have it, or be able to owe so much that it +amounts to the same thing.</p> +<p>At first when he got in a hole, owed money which he saw no way +of raising, Wilmot suffered all the anguish and remorse of the +trustee who has speculated with orphans' funds (for the first time) +and lost them. Gradually he became hardened. And those who knew him +best could never tell whether he was worth fifty thousand or had +just lost that much. He drew upon a stock of courage and +cheerfulness worthy of even the noblest cause, until the term +"self-respect" dropped automatically from his inner vocabulary and +his moral sense became a rotten, rusty buckler through which the +spear of temptation or necessity passed like a pin through a sheet +of tissue-paper.</p> +<p>He put himself under obligation--in moments of supreme need--to +dangerous persons, and suffered from the familiarity and perhaps +the contempt of some who were his inferiors in breeding, in heart, +and in soul.</p> +<p>One day, being at his wit's end, he walked rapidly, seeking +light, through a quarter of the city which was not familiar to him. +He was in that mood when a man does not wish to be at the trouble +of nodding or exchanging a word even with his best friend. A voice +hailed him, "Mr. Allen."</p> +<p>He stopped and saw that the voice came from a legless man who +sat in the sun by a hand-organ on which were displayed for sale a +few pairs of shoe-laces and, to excite charity, a battered (and +empty) tin cup.</p> +<p>"Have you forgotten me?"</p> +<p>The light of recognition had twinkled instantly in Wilmot's +eyes, for he was wonderful at remembering faces. And he smiled and +said:</p> +<p>"Of course not. How are you?"</p> +<p>"Pretty well," said the beggar. "And you?"</p> +<p>"Pretty well."</p> +<p>Wilmot's giving hand had slipped automatically into his trousers +pocket. Then, for once in his charitable life, he hesitated, since +the pocket contained nothing but a ten-dollar bill, and that was +all the money he had in the world with which to meet a pressing +note of ten thousand. His hesitation lasted only a moment. He +laughed and stuffed the ten-dollar bill into the cup, and said:</p> +<p>"For old acquaintance' sake."</p> +<p>The beggar studied the young man's face. Then he said: "Mr. +Allen, I once had the honor to warn you against three things."</p> +<p>"I remember."</p> +<p>"Your face is innocent of wine and women. How about the +gambling?"</p> +<p>"My friend," said Wilmot, "you read me like a book. The gambling +is all to the bad. I have just given you all the money I had in the +world."</p> +<p>"A few dollars are of no use to me," said the beggar.</p> +<p>"Nor to me. Don't worry."</p> +<p>"I am not worrying. I'm thinking that you and I have something +in common. And for that reason I am tempted to ask if a few +thousand would be of any use to you?"</p> +<p>Wilmot smiled with engaging candor. "Fifteen thousand +would."</p> +<p>"You shall have them," said the beggar shortly. He pointed to a +glazed door across which was printed in gilt letters:</p> +<blockquote>BLIZZARD--MFR. HATS</blockquote> +<p>"That," said the beggar, "is my name, and that is my place of +business. Come in."</p> +<p>Wilmot followed the beggar through the glass door, which at +opening and closing caused a bell to clang. The front of the +establishment was occupied by a dust-ridden salesroom, and an +office with yellow-pine partitions. As he followed the beggar into +this, Wilmot caught a glimpse in the distance of fifteen or twenty +young girls who sat at a long table industriously plaiting straw +hats. He lifted his own hat a little mechanically, and thought that +he had never seen so many pretty girls at one time under one +roof.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="II"></a>II</h2> +<br> +<p>Wilmot buttoned his coat over fifteen one-thousand-dollar bills. +Only supreme necessity could have persuaded him to take them, +since, although he had not put his name to a paper of any kind, he +felt a little as if he had sold himself to the devil. But Blizzard +had shown him no deviltry; only kindness and a certain whimsicality +of speech and a point of view that was engaging.</p> +<p>The transaction finished, Wilmot was for leaving, but being +under obligation to the legless man was at pains not to be abrupt. +He lingered then a little, and they talked.</p> +<p>"The first time we met," said the beggar, "you were +roller-skating with a pretty child. She was so pretty that I asked +you her name. And I have never forgotten it."</p> +<p>He did not add that he had watched that pretty child's goings +and comings for many years; that he had lain in wait to see her +pass; that he had bribed servants in her father's house to give him +news of her: and that the day approached when, fearing neither man +nor God, he proposed that she should disappear from the world that +knew her, and go down into the infamous depths of that vengeance +which had been the key-note of his life. Nor did he add that there +were but two contingencies which he felt might thwart his plans: +her marriage to Wilmot Allen, or his own untimely death. And he +feared the latter but little. The former, however, had at times +seemed imminent to those who spied upon the daily life of the +heiress for him, and in lending money to Wilmot he was taking a +first step toward making it impossible. For Barbara herself +Blizzard had at this time no more feeling than for a pawn upon a +chess-board. It pleased his sense of fitness to know she was +beautiful; and to be told that she was like sunshine in her +father's house.</p> +<p>"What has become of her?" he said.</p> +<p>"Of Miss Ferris?" Wilmot did not care to discuss her with a +stranger. But unfortunately there were fifteen thousand dollars of +the stranger's money in his inside pocket. "She became a great +favorite in society," he said, "and then dropped out to study +art."</p> +<p>"Painting?" The legless man knew perfectly well, but it suited +him to make inquiries. "Music?"</p> +<p>"Sculpture," said Wilmot shortly.</p> +<p>"Is she succeeding?"</p> +<p>"She works very hard, and she has talent."</p> +<p>"That is not enthusiastic."</p> +<p>"You mustn't ask me; I'm not an art critic."</p> +<p>"What a pity."</p> +<p>"A pity that I'm not an art critic?"</p> +<p>"No. A pity for a beautiful girl to do anything but exist."</p> +<p>Wilmot's eyebrows went up a little. The beggar's speech +surprised him, and pleased him, since it expressed a favorite +thought of his own.</p> +<p>"Is any of her work on exhibition? Having seen her once, one +takes an interest, you know."</p> +<p>"I think there is nothing that can be seen," said Wilmot coolly, +"except upon special invitation. And I think she is very shy of +showing anything that she has done."</p> +<p>"True artists," said Blizzard, who criminally was an artist +himself and knew what he was talking about, "live in the +future."</p> +<p>Again Wilmot's eyebrows went up a little. Why should a legless +beggar be able to make loans of fifteen thousand dollars, and why +should he be able to talk like a gentleman?</p> +<p>"I am interested in art," continued Blizzard; "sometimes I have +earned a few dollars by sitting for my portrait."</p> +<p>He did not add that he continually put himself in the way of +artists in the hope that his fame as a model would reach Barbara, +and touch her imagination. He did not add that he haunted +Washington Square and McBurney Place, where her studio was, in the +hope that his face, which he knew to be different and more terrible +than other faces, might kindle a fire of inspiration in her. He +believed rightly that if a woman once looked him in the eyes she +would never forget him. But hitherto Barbara had not so much as +glanced at him, since she carried her lovely head very high, and +looked straight before her as she went. While, as for him, he stood +upon the stumps of his legs, a gigantic sort of dwarf, beneath the +notice of the proud-eyed and the tall.</p> +<p>Wilmot passed out of the place in deep thought; not even the +pretty girls plaiting straw won a glance from him. Coupled with the +relief of being out of present difficulties was a disagreeable +sense of foreboding. Suppose the legless man were to ask favors of +him before the money could be repaid? Suppose they were favors +which a gentleman could not grant? And he determined to find out, +from the police if necessary, just what sort of a man it was with +whom he had had dealings.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="III"></a>III</h2> +<br> +<p>It seemed to Wilmot that he had not seen Barbara for an age. And +indeed a week had passed without their meeting. Therefore, although +he had often been forbidden to call during working hours, he had +himself driven to 17 McBurney Place and climbed the two flights of +stairs to her studio.</p> +<p>It was a disconsolate Barbara who received him. She had on her +work-apron, but she was not working. She sat in a deep chair, and +presented the soles of her small shoes to an open fire. Wilmot, +expecting to be scolded for disobeying orders, was relieved at +being received with visible signs of pleasure.</p> +<p>"You're just the person I wanted to see," she said, "just the +one and only Wilmot in the world."</p> +<p>"Are you dying?" he asked.</p> +<p>She laughed. "I'm discouraged. I've come to one of those times +when you just want to chuck everything. And there's a man at the +bottom of it."</p> +<p>"Tell me," said Wilmot, "in words of two syllables."</p> +<p>"Well," said Barbara, "I woke up in the middle of the night out +of a dream. I dreamed I'd made a statue of Satan after the fall +from heaven, and that everybody said: 'Well done, Barbs, bully for +you,' 'Got Rodin skinned a mile'--it was you said that--and so +forth and so on. I rose, swollen with conceit, and made a sketch of +the head I'd dreamed about, so's not to forget the pose, and then I +went to sleep again. Next day, early, a man stopped me in +Washington Square and begged for a dime. I looked at him, and he +had just the expression of the fallen Satan I'd dreamed about--a +beast of a face, but all filled with a sort of hopeless longing to +'get back,' and remorse. I invited him to pose for me--not for a +dime--but for real money. Well, he fell for it. And for all that +morning he looked just the way I wanted him to look. But the next +morning, having had the spending of certain moneys, he looked too +tidy and well fed for Satan. And this morning he was hopeless. He +looked smug and fatuous and disgustingly self-satisfied. So I gave +him quite a lot of money, not wishing to hurt the creature's +feelings, and told him to go away." She looked up, laughing at +herself. "Do you know, I really believed I'd dreamed out a golden +inspiration, and then to strike just the face I wanted--and then to +have everything foozle out!"</p> +<p>Wilmot walked over to the modelling-table on which, strongly +modelled in wet clay but quite meaningless, was the bust of a +man.</p> +<p>"I think." said Barbara, "it would look better if you snubbed +his nose for him."</p> +<p>Wilmot snubbed the long nose heavenward, and the effect was such +as to make them laugh. Barbara recovered all her usual good +humor.</p> +<br> +<a name="page016.jpg"></a> +<p class="ctr"><img src="images/page016.jpg" width="50%" alt= +""><br> +<b>She had on her work-apron, but she was not working.</b></p> +<br> +<p>"Get some forms out of the kitchen," she said, "and we'll turn +him into mud pies."</p> +<p>For half an hour they diverted themselves, displaying a +tremendous rivalry and enthusiasm. And then Barbara announced that +there had been enough foolishness, and that if Wilmot would put +fuel on the fire, he might talk with her till lunch-time and then +take her out to lunch.</p> +<p>"Always provided," she said, "that you are not broke at the +moment. In which case Barbara will pay and tip."</p> +<p>"I've had a funny adventure," said Wilmot. "I <i>was</i> +dreadfully broke. A man I hadn't seen for years and years--and only +the once at that--stopped me in the street, told me I was broke, +and offered to lend me money. Wilmot accepted, and is now plenty +flush enough to blow to lunch, thank you!"</p> +<p>Barbara, reseated herself in the deep chair, and once more +presented the soles of her shoes to the flames. "Look here," she +said, "aren't you, just among old friends, rather flitting your +life away? I don't think it's very pretty to borrow money from +strangers, and to be always just getting into difficulties or just +getting out of them. Do you?"</p> +<p>"Well, you know," said Wilmot earnestly, "I don't. When I don't +hate myself, I don't like myself any too well. But there's +something wrong with me. Maybe I'm just lazy. Maybe I lack an +impulse. Maybe I'd do better if any single solitary person in this +world really gave a damn about me."</p> +<p>His cheerful boyish face assumed a proper solemnity of +expression, and a certain nobility. At the moment he really thought +that nobody in the world cared what became of him.</p> +<p>"Nobody," said Barbara, "likes to back a flighty pony. You +yourself, for instance, are always putting money, your own or some +one else's, on horses that always run somewhere near form. Of +course you have excuses for yourself."</p> +<p>"I? None."</p> +<p>"Oh, yes, you have. You were brought up to be rich, and you were +left poor, and a man has to live and even secure for himself the +luxuries to which he has been accustomed. Haven't you ever excused +yourself to yourself something like that?"</p> +<p>Wilmot admitted that he had, and went further. "You can't knock +livings out of a tree with a stick like ripe apples," he said. +"You've either got to use your wits or begin at the bottom and work +up. And it seems to me that I'd rather be a little bit tarnished +than toil away the best years of my life the way some men I know +are doing."</p> +<p>"Yes," said Barbara, "but why not go somewhere where the world +is younger, and there are real chances to be a man, and real +opportunities to make money in real ways? I don't blame you for +living on your wits. I blame you for gambling and never getting +anywhere and not caring."</p> +<p>"Not caring? And this from you?"</p> +<p>She changed color under his steady eyes.</p> +<p>"You just give me a certain promise, Barbs, and I give you my +word of honor I'll settle to something above-board and make it hum. +Look here now! How about it? Who's been so faithful to the one girl +for so long? Who understands her so well? Who'd enjoy dying for her +so much?"</p> +<p>"Good old Wilmot," she said gently and gave him her hand. He +kissed it and would have liked to go on holding it forever, but she +took it away from him, and after a silence said, with some +bitterness: "I mustn't ever marry anybody. I've learned to know +myself too well. And I've no constancy, and I don't trust +myself."</p> +<p>"That," said Wilmot with the faith of a fanatic in his god, "is +because you've never really cared."</p> +<p>"And besides," she said, "I have what I am pleased to call my +career. And 'Down to Gehenna and up to the throne he travels +fastest who travels alone.'"</p> +<p>"True," said Wilmot, "he arrives soonest, but all tired out, and +the house is empty, and there are no children in it, and only paid +servants. And it may be very showy to live for fame, but it isn't +good enough. When we turned that bust you began into mud pies, we +did a wise thing. We amused ourselves, and we said the last word on +art as opposed to life. The best thing in this world is to +<i>be</i> children and to <i>have</i> children--and the next best +thing is nowhere."</p> +<p>"Would you," said Barbara, and her eyes twinkled a little, +"really rather be a parent than a Praxiteles?"</p> +<p>"It looks to me," said Wilmot sadly, "sometimes--in moments of +despondency--as if the honorable gentleman was never going to be +either. But then again," and he spoke in a strong voice, "I believe +in my heart that after you've done handling the book of life and +admiring the binding, you'll open it at chapter one, and read, +'<i>Young Wilmot</i> Allen--'"</p> +<p>"Lunch-time," said Barbara, and she rose from the comfortable +chair with sharp decision. "I vote for a thick steak, being +famished. Is my hair all mussy?"</p> +<p>"No," said Wilmot dejectedly. "I wish it was. And I wish it was +my fault--and yours."</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="IV"></a>IV</h2> +<br> +<p>"I've done enough for you more than once," said the legless man; +"you're big enough and strong enough to work, but you're a born +loafer."</p> +<p>"I had a job." The speaker, a shabby, unshaven man with a +beastly face, whined dolefully. "And I done right; but I got the +sack."</p> +<p>"What was the job and why were you sacked?"</p> +<p>"I got a job as a artist's model. I sits in a chair while the +lady makes a statue out of my face, and then she gives me money, +and I goes and spends it. The third day she gives me more money, +and tells me I looks too well fed and happy to suit her, and sends +me away."</p> +<p>The legless man was astonished to learn that his heart was +beating with unaccustomed force and rapidity. "Who was the +artist?"</p> +<p>"She's a lady name o' Ferris."</p> +<p>The legless man steeled his face to express nothing. "Ferris," +he commented briefly.</p> +<p>"Say," said the unshaven man, "what's all that about the devil +falling out of heaven and fetching up in hell?"</p> +<p>"Why?"</p> +<p>"That's how she says I looks. And she wants to make a statue of +him, just when he comes to and sits up, and looks up and sees how +far he's fell. She says my face has all the sorrers and horrors of +the world in it."</p> +<p>"And then, you fool," said the legless man, "you spoiled her +game by high living. You ate and you drank till you looked like a +paranoiac bulldog asleep in the sun. Where was the lady's +studio?"</p> +<p>"Seventeen McBurney Place."</p> +<p>"And she wants to do a Satan, does she?"</p> +<p>The unshaven man drew back from the expression of the legless +man, in whose face it was as if all the fires of hell had suddenly +burst into flame. The unshaven man covered the breast of his +threadbare coat with outstretched hands as if to shield himself +from some suddenly bared weapon. His eyes blinked, but did not +falter.</p> +<p>"Say," he said presently, after drawing a deep breath, "if she +could see you once."</p> +<p>"If I don't know," said the legless man, "how Satan felt after +the fall, nobody does. The things I've been--the things I've +seen--back there--down here--the things I've lost--the things I've +found! Hell's Bell's, Johnson! what is it you +want--food?--drink?--a woman?"</p> +<p>The unshaven man's eyes shone with an unholy light.</p> +<p>"What would you do for twenty-five dollars?"</p> +<p>The unshaven man said nothing. He looked everything.</p> +<p>"Do you know the McIver woman?"</p> +<p>"Fanny?"</p> +<p>The legless man granted. "Yes. Fanny. She'll look at you if +you've got money."</p> +<p>"She'd crawl through a sewer to find a dime."</p> +<p>"Quite so," the legless man commented dryly. "Well, it wouldn't +matter to me if she went on a tear and was found dead in her +bed."</p> +<p>"It's worth fifty." Something in the unshaven man's voice +suggested that he had once been remotely connected with some sort +of a business.</p> +<p>The legless man shook his head. "Judas Iscariot," he said, +"betrayed the Lord God for thirty. Fanny McIver's scalp isn't worth +a cent over twenty-five. You're just a broken-down drunk. It takes +a bigger bluffer than you to make me put an insult on Christendom. +Fifteen down. Ten when Fanny's had her last hang-over."</p> +<p>"Why don't you do some of your dirty work yourself?"</p> +<p>"I do all I can," said the legless man simply; "I can't find +time for everything."</p> +<p>The unshaven man shifted uneasily on his shabby feet. In his +stomach the flames which only alcohol can quench were burning with +a steady gnawing fury. "How about a little drink?" he said.</p> +<p>"Fifteen down," said the legless man; "ten when the job's done, +and a ticket to Chicago."</p> +<p>"With a reservation? I'll feel like the devil; I couldn't sit up +all night."</p> +<p>"I'll throw in an upper," said the legless man.</p> +<p>Still the unshaven man resisted. "What's Fanny done to you?"</p> +<p>"None of your business."</p> +<p>As if that settled the matter, and removed all obstacles and +moral scruples, the unshaven man sighed, and held out his hand for +the money which was to bind the contract.</p> +<p>Twelve hours later, Fanny McIver's death was being attributed by +the authorities to the insane, jealous rage of a lover. But as she +had lately changed her name and address, she lay for a while in the +morgue awaiting identification. It was the legless beggar who +performed that last solemn rite. He was quite unmoved. Her death +mattered no more in his scheme of life than the death of a fly.</p> +<p>But as he held up his hand and swore that the identity of the +corpse was such and such, he remembered how graceful she had been +at sixteen, how affectionate, how ready to forgive. He remembered +with a certain admiration that during the heyday of her earning +powers she had always trusted to his generosity, and had never +tried to hold any of her earnings back. Prison and drink had +destroyed all that was honest in her, all that was womanly. So a +drop of acid will eat out the heart of the freshest and loveliest +rose. She became a very evil thing--full of evil knowledge. There +was even a certain danger in her--not much--nothing definite--but +enough. She was better dead.</p> +<p>He turned and swung out of the morgue into the sunlight. And he +wondered whatever had become of the child that she had borne +him.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="V"></a>V</h2> +<br> +<p>It would have been easier for Wilmot Allen if he could have come +into Barbara's life for the first time. She was too used to him to +appreciate such of his qualities as were fine and noble at their +true value. And contrarily it was the same familiarity which limned +his faults so clearly and perhaps exaggerated them. She often +thought that if she could see him for the first time she would fall +head over ears in love with him, and be married to him out of hand. +Was it not better therefore, since the man's character had its +disillusionments, that their life-long friendship precluded the +idea of marrying in haste and repenting at leisure? "It's almost," +she said to herself, "as if I had married him long ago and found +out that I had made a mistake."</p> +<p>But she hated to hurt him in any way. And it caused her a +genuine sorrow sometimes to say no to him. He had proposed to her +many times a year for many, many years, and always with a passion +and sincerity that made it appear as if he was proposing for the +first time in his life. Twice, the strength and devotion of his +physical presence had seemed to remove every doubt of him from her +mind, and she had said that she would marry him, and had been +ecstatically happy while he kissed her and held her in his arms. +And each time better knowledge of herself, a sleepless night, and +the unsparing light of morning had filled her with shame and +remorse, and made it quite clear that she had made one more +mistake, and must tell him so, and eat humble pie. And exact a +promise that he would never make love to her again. But she could +never get him to promise that. And she could never keep him from +kissing things that belonged to her when she was looking, and when +she wasn't. And if, as he sometimes threatened in moments of +disappointed and injured feelings, he had gone far away, so that he +could never cross her path again, she would have missed him so much +that it would almost have killed her. And so it is with all human +beings--they care little enough about their dearest possessions +until the fire by night consumes them, or the thief walks off with +them. Then the silver and the jewels, and this thing and that, +assume a sort of humanity--and are as if they had been dear friends +and unutterably necessary companions in joy and sorrow.</p> +<p>To Wilmot a little encouragement was a great thing, a foundation +upon which to undertake pyramids. Having intruded upon Barbara's +working hours without being scolded, Wilmot began to picture for +himself a delightful life of intruding upon them every day. He +hoped that if she was really working, she would not actually send +him away, but let him sit in the deep chair by the fire and wait +till she was through, and ready for talk and play. As much almost +as he loved her, he hated her ambitions, if only because they +interfered with him, and because he found it impossible to take +them seriously. Her work seemed surprisingly good to him--not +surprisingly good for a genuine sculptor who exhibited in salons, +but for a girl of his own class whom he had always known. In this +estimate he did not do Barbara justice. She had a fine natural +talent and she had been well trained. People who knew what they +were talking about, shock-headed young fellows with neighboring +studios, prophesied great things for her, partly because she was +beautiful, and partly because her work, as far as she had gone in +it, was really good. What she lacked, they said, was inspiration, +experience, and knowledge of life. When these things came to her in +due time, her technique would be quite equal to expressing +them.</p> +<p>Wilmot's dream of being much in Barbara's studio proved +negotiable only as a dream. Barbara began a fountain for her +father's garden at Clovelly, and during the modelling of the +central figure the studio was no place for a modest young man. He +had one glimpse through the half-open door of a girl with very red +hair and very white skin, and he turned and beat a decided retreat, +blushing furiously. He did not repeat his visit to her studio until +Barbara assured him that the nymph had put on her clothes and gone +away. Then, much to his disgust, he found there a young fellow +named Scupper, who smoked a vile pipe and had dirty finger-nails +and was allowed to make himself at home because he had recently +exhibited a portrait bust that everybody was praising (even Wilmot) +and because he had volunteered during a delightful contemplation of +Barbara's face to do her portrait and tell her all that he had +learned from his great master, Rodin.</p> +<br> +<a name="page028-029.jpg"></a> +<p class="ctr"><img src="images/page028-029.jpg" width="100%" alt= +""><br> +<b>He praised, blamed, patronized, puffed his pipe, and dwelt with +superiority on topics which are best left alone.</b></p> +<br> +<p>The little beast had the assurance of the devil. He praised, +blamed, patronized, puffed his pipe, and dwelt with superiority on +topics which are best left alone, until Wilmot wanted to kick him +downstairs. Scupper, aware of Wilmot's dislike for him, and +thoroughly cognizant of its causes, did his best to goad the "young +prude" (as he chose to consider him) into open hostility. He +strutted, boasted, puffed, and talked loosely without avail. Wilmot +maintained a beautiful calm, and the more he raged internally the +more Chesterfieldian and gorgeously at ease his manners became. +Barbara enjoyed the contest between the terrier and the +Newfoundland hugely. Personally she disliked Scupper almost as much +as she liked Wilmot, but artistically she admired him tremendously +and felt that his judgments and criticisms were the most valuable +things to be had in the whole city.</p> +<p>Wilmot not only kept his temper, but outstayed his antagonist. +The latter gone, he turned upon Barbara, and she in mock terror +held up her hands for mercy; but Wilmot was not in a merciful +mood.</p> +<p>"When you imagine that you are uplifting the cause of art, +Barbs, are you sure that you aren't debasing it? You won't marry a +man who has always loved you. <i>Art.</i> You put marble and bronze +higher than little children. <i>Art.</i> You allow disreputable, +unwashed men to talk in your presence as that man talked. +<i>Art.</i> You hire people of bad character to sit for you, and +people of no character. All art. You treat them in a spirit of +friendliness and camaraderie. You affect to place art above all +considerations; above character, above morals; worse, you place it +above cleanliness.</p> +<p>"A man--yes, take him for all and all, a man--eats out his heart +for you; desires only to live for you, only to die for you, only to +lie at your feet afterward--that is nothing to you. You do not even +care to listen. You would rather hear through a braggart, indecent +mouth that ought to be sewed up what Rodin said about Phidias. It +seems finer to you to be an artist than a woman, and you so +beautiful and so dear!"</p> +<p>Barbara made no answer. She looked a little hurt, possibly a +little sullen. She had a way of looking a little sullen (it did not +happen often) when she could not hit upon just the words she wanted +to express her thoughts. She felt that her attitude toward life was +almost entirely right, almost entirely justifiable, and she wanted +to explain exactly why this was thus, and couldn't. So after a +silence she said:</p> +<p>"Oh, I'm just a little pig. Why bother about me? And besides, +it's no use."</p> +<p>"Don't say that, Barbara. There <i>must</i> be use in it. Don't +you know in your heart that some day you are going to marry +me?"</p> +<p>"No," she said. "Sometimes I've thought so, but I don't know +it." She selected an arrow from her quiver, touched the point with +venom, and because she had not enjoyed being scolded shot it into +him. "And at the moment I don't think so."</p> +<p>Wilmot spoke on patiently. "Every true lover, Barbs," he said, +"comes in time to the end of his patience and the end of his +endurance."</p> +<p>"And then he ceases from loving--and troubling."</p> +<p>"He does not. When he knows as I know what is best for her +happiness and for his, and when he finds that humbleness, and +begging, and gentleness, and persuasion are of no avail--why, then +if he's a man he <i>makes</i> her love him, <i>makes</i> her marry +him."</p> +<p>"I hope, my dear Wilmot," she said, "that you are speaking from +a very limited experience."</p> +<p>"From the experience of ten million years. I have only one life +to live. Somehow I will make you love me, make you belong to me. +Just because I eat with a fork, do you think my heart is really any +different from that of the cave-man from whom it descended to me, +or that your heart is any different from that of the girl he +wanted, who kept him guessing and guessing until he couldn't stand +it, and then turned and ran and ran through the woods, and swam +rivers and climbed trees and jumped down precipices until he caught +her?"</p> +<p>There was something in Wilmot's lowered brows, a certain +jerking, broken quality in his utterance, that was new to +Barbara--that at once frightened her a little, and caused her heart +to beat with a sort of wild triumph. But she did not guess that the +old cave-man was at that moment actually looking out through her +old friend's eye-places, and that ten thousand years of +civilization are but a thin varnish over the rough and splendid +masterpiece that God made in his image.</p> +<p>There was a knock at the door. It was Scupper returning. He had +left his beloved pipe (on purpose). His shrewd, bloodshot little +eyes took in the situation at a glance. In two beats his little +heart was wild with jealousy.</p> +<p>"I beg <i>everybody's</i> pardon," he said. "I didn't know, +I--er--wouldn't have knocked--I--er--mean I <i>would</i> have +knocked just the same."</p> +<p>Wilmot took one slow step toward the famous sculptor, then +smiled, picked up the fellow's pipe, and returned it to him. "I saw +you put it down just before you left," he said. "I think there is +nothing else you have forgotten, <i>is</i> there? If there is I +think it will be best not to come back for it until I have gone. +Meanwhile you will have time to shave and bathe and make yourself +presentable."</p> +<p>Scupper, sure that he was not actually going to be hit, escaped +with an ease and jauntiness which he was far from feeling. And +Barbara, the high tension relieved, burst out laughing.</p> +<p>It was Wilmot's turn to look sullen. He had felt that the sheer +animal force of his love was holding and even moulding Barbara to +his will, as no tenderness and delicacy had ever done. But at the +sculptor's entrance, the honest if brutal cave-man had fled, like +some noble savage before a talking-machine, and left in a state of +civilized helplessness a young gentleman who could not find +anything to say for himself.</p> +<p>As for Barbara, she had never seen Wilmot look as he had looked, +or heard those quivering, broken tones in his voice. The savage in +her had gone out to him with open arms and, behold, the primal +force which, standing like an island of refuge in a sea of doubt, +she had been about to clasp was but an empty shadow. That Wilmot +had not done very nobly with his talents, that there were +weaknesses in his character and record, things even that needed +explaining, had not at the moment of his mastery mattered to her a +jot. But now such thoughts flocked to her like birds to a tree; and +she was glad that she had escaped from a situation that had so +nearly overwhelmed her reason and drowned her common sense in the +heavenly sweetness of surrender.</p> +<p>Wilmot could find nothing to say. It was no mere gust of passion +that had swept over him, but a storm. He was physically tired, as +if he had rowed a long race. He no longer wished to play the +master. He would rather a thousand times have rested his hot +forehead on Barbara's cool hand, and fallen quietly asleep like a +little child come in at last to his mother after too much play in +the hot sun.</p> +<p>"Life," he said at last, "is a nuisance, Barbs. Isn't it? Would +you, honestly, be happier if I disappeared, and never bothered you +again? Sometimes I feel that I ought to."</p> +<p>She shook her head. "If you like people," she said, "you like +them, faults and all. I'm dependent on you in a hundred ways. +You're the oldest and best friend I've got. If you disappeared I'd +curl up and die. But now that we are talking personalities, you +very nearly forgot yourself a few minutes ago. Well, I forgive. But +it mustn't happen again."</p> +<p>He bowed his head very humbly. "I will go back to patience and +gentleness," he said, "and give them another trial."</p> +<p>"I wish," she said, "that you would go back and begin your life +over again--stop drifting and sail for some definite harbor."</p> +<p>"I will," he said, "on condition--"</p> +<p>"No--no--no," she said hurriedly, "no condition. I am in no +position to make conditions, if that's what you mean. I don't +understand myself. I don't trust myself. I will not undertake to +bind myself to you or any one until I know that I can trust myself. +It would be very jolly for you if I married you and then we found +that I really loved the other fellow. I'm like that--selfish, +unstable, susceptible--and very much ashamed of myself. I wouldn't +talk myself down so if you didn't know these things as well as I +do. Why you go on caring for me is a mystery. I'm no good. And I'm +not even sorry enough to cry about it--ever. I've actually thought +that I was in love--oh, ever so many times: sometimes with you. +What's the use? The only things I've ever been faithful to are the +dressmaker, dancing, and what in moments of supreme egoism I am +pleased to call my art."</p> +<p>"Barbs," he said, "you're an old silly billy, and I love you +with all my heart and soul. That's <i>that</i>. Don't forget it. +Take pen and ink if necessary and write it down. I'll try a little +more patience, and then, my blessing, if there's no good in that, I +shall perpetrate marriage by capture."</p> +<p>They both laughed, the girl with much sweetness. And she +said:</p> +<p>"If you and I ever do marry, it will be with great suddenness." +Her eyes danced, and she added: "There are moments!"</p> +<p>"Thank you," he said gravely, and then with a kind of wistful +gallantry: "Could I kiss the dear for luck?"</p> +<p>She turned her cheek to him bravely and frankly like a child. +His lips touched it lightly, making no sound.</p> +<p>Far off in the native jungle the cave-man moaned, and shut his +eyes and turned his face to the wall of his cave. The medicine-man +came, examined him, and said that he was about to die of a new +disease. He looked very wise and called it "predatory +inanition."</p> +<p>As for the cave-girl, having run and run and run, she pulled up +in a flowery glade, looked behind, listened, saw nothing, heard no +sound of painfully pursuing feet, and called herself a fool and a +silly for having run. She wanted to explain that she hadn't meant +to run away, that girls never really meant what they said, and +would the cave-man please recover at once from his predatory +inanition and take notice of her again?</p> +<p>"Come," said Barbara, after quite a long silence, "let's go +forth and collar a taxi. Anywhere I can take you? I can't ask you +to lunch, because I am having seven maidens, and afterward Victor +Polideon to teach us to turkey-trot."</p> +<p>"I wouldn't be afraid of seven devils," Wilmot urged in his own +behalf, "if you were present."</p> +<p>"There are only two," she said practically, "and they are very +little devils. But I won't let you come, because you would have +much too good a time." Then she relented. "Come later, about three, +and teach me to turkey-trot. You do it better than Polideon. And I +hate to have him touch me."</p> +<p>"That's something," he exclaimed triumphantly.</p> +<p>"What's something?"</p> +<p>"That you don't hate for me to touch you."</p> +<p>She laughed and tapped his shoulder in rag-time. Also she +whistled, and did a quiet suspicion of a turkey-trot with her +feet.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="VI"></a>VI</h2> +<br> +<p>One bright morning in May, divinely early, two persons of very +different appearance and nature came out of two houses of very +different appearance and nature at precisely the same moment, and +started to move toward each other by methods of locomotion no less +different than were the appearances of the respective persons or +the respective houses from which they emerged.</p> +<p>The house from which the one issued was of speckless white +marble, and looked from the advantageous corner of Sixty-something +Street and Fifth Avenue upon the purple and white lilacs and the +engaging spring greens of Central Park.</p> +<p>The other came out of a dark house at the angle of a narrow +street in the shadow of Brooklyn Bridge, whose door, crossed by +dingy gilt lettering, violently clanged a bell at opening and +closing. The first person stepped with the long clean strides of +youth and liberty. The second person cannot be said to have stepped +at all. The first person, meeting a policeman, smiled and said: +"Good morning, Kelly." The second, similarly meeting with an +officer of the law, scowled upward, and said: "Do it again, and +I'll break you." The first person came out of the uptown palace +like a fairy from a grotto; the second emerged from the downtown +rookery like some prehistoric monster from a cave.</p> +<p>At a distance you might have mistaken him for an electrician or +a sewer-expert coming into view through one of those round holes in +the sidewalk by which access is provided to the subterranean +apparatus of cities. But, drawing nearer, you perceived that he was +but half a man, who stood upon the six-inch stubs of what had once +been a pair of legs. But what nature could do for what was left of +him nature had done. He had the neck, the arms, and the torso of a +Hercules. His coat, black, threadbare, shining, and unpleasantly +spotted, seemed on the point of giving way here and there to a +system of restless and enormous muscles. But that these should +serve no better purpose than ceaselessly to turn the handle of an +unusually diminutive and tuneless street-organ might have roused in +the observer's mind doubts as to the wisdom and vigilance of that +divine providence which is so much better understood and trusted by +the healthy and fortunate than by the wretched, the maimed, and the +diseased.</p> +<p>For the most part the legless man went about the business of +begging among the business men of the city, since from the +congested slum into which he disappeared at night it was no great +feat for a man of his power to reach the more northern streets of +that circle in whose midst the finances of the nation by turns +simmer, boil, and boil over. It was not unusual, during the +noon-time rush of self-centred individuals, for the legless man to +get himself stridden into and bowled clean over upon his face or +back, since nothing is more loosening to purse-strings than the +average man's horror at having injured some creature already +maimed; nor was it unusual for him at such times to scramble up +smiling with a kind of invincible cheerfulness that more potently +stirred the generosity of the man who had knocked him down than +ever groans and complaints could have done.</p> +<p>If the weather was fine and conducive to bodily comfort, the +beggar sometimes turned north and worked his way to Washington +Square or the lower blocks of Fifth Avenue. Sometimes, having +agreed to pose for the head and trunk to some young art student, he +left his hand-organ behind, and permitted himself the extravagance +of riding in a surface car. His boarding of a street-car was a feat +of pure gymnastics, swift and virile; so, too, was his ascending or +descending of a flight of steps, or the high platform on which he +was to pose. Incessant practice, added to natural skill and +balance, enabled him to accomplish, without legs, feats which might +have balked a man with a capable and energetic pair of them. He +could travel upon his crutches for the length of a city block +almost as fast as the average man can run, and if it came to +climbing a rope or a rain-duct he was more ape than human. In his +own dwelling he had for his own use, instead of the laborious +stairs needed by its other inmates, a system of knotted ropes by +which he could ascend from cellar to attic, and polished poles by +whose aid he could accomplish the most lightning-like descending +slides.</p> +<p>Marrow Lane, shaped like a dog's hind leg, is one of those +crooked and narrow thoroughfares which the approaches and +anchorings of the Brooklyn Bridge have cast into gloom and +darkness. There are spots upon which the sun will not shine again +until the great bridge has perished; there are corners in which +drafts strong as a heaven-born wind whistle from one year's end to +the other. There are thousands of children in the region, and in +the more purely tenement settlements to the north, who have yet to +see a green field or to handle a flower.</p> +<p>At the very crook of the dog's leg, on the north side of Marrow +Lane, a narrow door, half glazed and sometimes burnished by the +sun, has printed across it in dingy gilt letters:</p> +<blockquote>BLIZZARD--MFR. HATS</blockquote> +<p>Once the door with the faded gilt letters had closed, with him +inside, the legless man, who was none other than Blizzard, the +manufacturer of hats, put off those airs of helplessness and +humility by which so many coins were attracted into the little tin +cup upon the top of his hand-organ, and assumed the attitude of one +accustomed to command and to be served, to reward and to punish. He +was no longer a beggar, but a magnate. He swelled with power, and +twenty girls of almost as many nationalities, plaiting straw hats +by the gas-light, cringed in their hearts, and redoubled the speed +of their hands. About the twenty girls who slaved for Blizzard +there were two peculiarities which at once distinguished them from +any other collection of female factory-hands on the East Side. They +were all strong and healthy looking, and they were all pretty. He +had collected them much as rich men in a higher station of life +collect paintings or pearls. If some of them bore the marks of +blows and pinchings, it was not upon any part of them which showed. +If some of them suffered from the fear of torture or even sudden +death, it did not prevent them from showing the master rows of even +white teeth between ingratiatingly parted lips whenever he deigned +to speak to them. If any girl among them thought to escape him, to +find work elsewhere, to betray what she knew of him, even, and +vanish into the slums of some far city, she was deterred by the +memory of certain anecdotes constantly related by her companions. +The most terrible of these anecdotes was that related of a certain +Florence Magrue. She had fled with her story to the nearest +policeman, who had quietly returned her to the shop, reluctantly, +it was admitted, but with the determination of a man whose very +existence depends upon the favor of another. The master had +welcomed her and smiled upon her as upon an erring child. He had +sent her upon an errand into the cellar under the shop, himself +unlocking the door. And that was the last that any one had ever +seen of Florence Magrue.</p> +<p>In addition to fear, the master supplied certain creature +comforts, not lightly to be thrown away. If a girl could make up +her mind to accept shame, bodily injury if she displeased, and a +life of toil, she fared better under Blizzard's direction than her +sister who worked for Ecbaum, let us say, the lacemaker, or Laskar, +or any of a thousand East Side employers of labor. The man could be +kind upon impulse, and generous. He paid the highest wages. He +supplied nourishing food at noon, and a complete hour in which to +discuss it. Furthermore, if a girl pleased him, the work of her +hands was subjected to less critical inspection, and if she had any +music in her, he invited her upstairs sometimes to work the pedals +of his grand piano, while his own powerful, hairy hands rippled and +thundered upon the keys. He was of a Godlike kindness when his mind +inclined to music, and the pedalling was skilful and sure. But let +the unfortunate crouched under the key-board, her trembling hands +taking the place of those feet which the master had lost, respond +stupidly to the signals conveyed to her shoulder by graduated +pressures from the stump of his right leg, and punishment of blows, +pinchings, and sarcasms was swift and sure.</p> +<p>The legless man was very much at home in his own house. He had +inhabited it for many years, and its arrangements were the +expression of a creature immensely able and ingenious, but maimed +both in body and soul.</p> +<p>The whole building, four stories tall, had once been a +manufactory, but Blizzard had subdivided its original lofts into +pens, dens, passageways, and rooms according to an elaborate plan +of his own. And it was evident to the most casual glance that +expediency alone, untrammelled by any consideration of purse, had +been followed. Those walls, floors, and ceilings, for instance, +through which no sound of human origin, unaided by mechanical +device, could penetrate, must have cost a mint of money. Nor could +any man who depended for a living upon occasional pennies dropped +into a tin cup have got together so extensive a collection of books +upon scientific subjects, many of them handsomely bound and printed +in foreign countries. Works upon explosives, tunnelling, +electricity, and music were especially abundant, not only in +English, but in German. And there were books upon the organization +of armies, and upon the chemistry of precious stones. A cursory +examination of his books would have found the master of the house +to be interested also in obstetrics, in poisons, and in anesthesia; +but of romance, humanity, or poetry his library had but a single +example, the "Monte Cristo" of the elder Dumas.</p> +<p>Had all the doors and windows of the house been thrown open, and +all its inhabitants expelled, so that you could have free ingress +with a companion or two, and time and the mood to explore the whole +of its ramifications and arrangements, you must have concluded that +the designer of so much that was hideously obvious and so much that +was mysteriously obscure was a most extraordinary example of +viciousness, ability, purpose, and musicianship. You must have been +staggered at passing from a room containing a grand piano and a +bust of Beethoven to find yourself in a little operating-theatre +such as any eminent surgeon might wish to be at work in, to find +beyond this a small but excellently appointed gymnasium; above +this, to be reached only by climbing a knotted rope, a long room, +lighted from above, containing drawing-tables, many cases of +drawing-instruments, and a host of workman-like designs and +specifications. Thence you might pass, still wondering, into an +apartment of soft divans, thick rags, and open fireplace, a smell +of incense, double windows and double doors.</p> +<p>Or you might descend by stairs or polished poles to the cellar +under the hat factory, and find yourself, prying into the most +obscure corner and lighting matches for guidance, confronted by the +door of a mightily strong safety vault, the knobs of the +combination lock bright and easily turned. And you might say: +"Well, it's either the house of a man whose scheme of life is +utterly beyond my comprehension, or of a madman."</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="VII"></a>VII</h2> +<br> +<p>Of the two persons who left their homes this morning, the +legless beggar, owing to having ridden part of the way in a +street-car, was the first to reach the northeast corner of Fifth +Avenue and Washington Square, whence the last rear-guard of fashion +in old New York retreats before the advance-pickets of the +encroaching slums, like a stag before a pack of hounds. Here he +ensconced himself, placed his tin cup on the top of his organ, +together with the few pairs of shoe-laces which proclaimed him a +merchant within rather than a beggar without the law, and proceeded +to enliven the still quiet neighborhood with the dreadfully +strained measure of Verdi's "Miserère." He turned the +handles of the little organ fitfully, so that now the strains of +sorrow arose at such long intervals as hardly to be connected with +one another, and now all huddled and jumbled like notes in a +barbaric quickstep, and as he played he addressed his instrument in +a quiet, cruel voice.</p> +<p>A house-maid opened a window in the servants' wing of No. 1 +Fifth Avenue. Blizzard turned his head slowly at the sound, and +looked up at her with agate eyes, coldly interrogative. There was +no one else at the moment within earshot.</p> +<p>Nevertheless before speaking the house-maid looked nervously +into the house behind her; then up the avenue, and down into +Washington Square. She was a girl of some beauty, but her face was +most engaging from a kind of waggish intelligence that it had.</p> +<p>"Tst!" she said.</p> +<p>The organ squeaked and rattled. It was manoeuvring for a +position from which to attack the "Danse Macabre." Blizzard +indicated by a lift of heavy eyebrows that he was all +attention.</p> +<p>"You can trust Blake," she said.</p> +<p>Blizzard grunted. "Send him to me at six."</p> +<p>"Marrow Lane?"</p> +<p>He nodded, and turned from her with an air of finality. The +house-maid hesitated, drew a long breath, pulled in her head, and +closed the window.</p> +<p>A loose-jointed man in clerical garb came hurrying down the +avenue. He made longer swings with his right arm and longer strides +with his right leg than with his left. He had a white, thin face, +and a look of worry and anxiety. He was perhaps distressed to think +that the world contained many souls to whose salvation he would +never be able to attend. Perceiving the legless beggar, he stopped +hurrying, sought in his pocket, and found a few pennies. These he +dropped into the tin cup.</p> +<p>"God bless you, reverend sir," said the beggar in a voice of +deep irony.</p> +<p>"Don't," said the clergyman. He managed to look the beggar in +the eyes. "How many hats have we?" he asked in a quick whisper.</p> +<p>"We're on our fourth thousand."</p> +<p>The clergyman was visibly upset, "Six thousand to go," he +muttered. "I shall be caught."</p> +<p>The beggar smiled. "Come to me at six-thirty," he said.</p> +<p>The man of God's eyes brightened. "You'll help me again?"</p> +<p>"Tst," said the beggar. "Move on. Here's a plain-clothes +man."</p> +<p>The shepherd moved on as if he had been pricked by an awl; since +it was not among the police that he felt called upon to separate +the black sheep from the white.</p> +<p>The plain-clothes man approached loitering. He might have been a +citizen in good standing and with nothing better to do than hobnob +with whatever persons interested him upon his idle saunterings.</p> +<p>"How many pairs of laces have you sold this morning?" he +asked.</p> +<p>"Nary a pair, charitable sir," returned the beggar.</p> +<p>"Speaking of shoe-laces," said the plain-clothes man, "what is +your opinion of head-gear?"</p> +<p>"Bullish," said the beggar. "Straw hats will be worn next +winter."</p> +<p>The eyes of both men sparkled with a curious exhilaration. The +plain-clothes man drew a deep and sudden breath, and appeared to +shiver. So a soldier may breathe at the command to charge; so a +thoroughbred shivers when the barrier is about to fall.</p> +<p>"There will be nice pickings," said the beggar; "there will be +enough geese to feed ten thousand."</p> +<p>The plain-clothes man dropped a penny into the tin cup. "By the +way," he asked professionally, "where can I lay hands on Red +Monday?"</p> +<p>The beggar shook his strong head curtly. "Hands off," he +said.</p> +<p>"When did <i>he</i> join the church?"</p> +<p>"Last night, with tears and confession. A strong man Red, now +that he has seen the light."</p> +<p>The plain-clothes man laughed and passed on, still +loitering.</p> +<p>The "Danse Macabre" had come to a timely end, if that which is +without tempo may be said to have any relation with time, and the +trio of Chopin's "Funeral March" was already in uneven progress. +The legless man sat on the bare pavement, his back against the +handsome area railing of No. 1 Fifth Avenue, and steadily revolved +the mechanism of the organ with his hairy, powerful hand.</p> +<p>Passers were now more frequent. Some looked at him and continued +to look after they had passed, others turned their eyes steadfastly +away. Some pitied him because he was a cripple; others, upon +suddenly discovering that he had no legs, were shocked with a +sudden indecent hatred of him. A lassie of the Salvation Army +invited him to rise up and follow Christ; he retorted by urging her +to lie down and take a rest. Then, as if premonition had laid +strong hands upon him and twisted him about, he turned, and looked +upward into the fresh, rosy face of Barbara Ferris.</p> +<p>Their eyes met. Always the child of impulse, and careless of +appearance and opinion, she felt her thoughts, none too cheerful or +optimistic that morning during her long walk down the avenue, drawn +by the expression upon the legless man's face to a sudden focus of +triumph and solution. She struck the palm of one small workman-like +hand with the back of the other, and exclaimed: "By George!"</p> +<p>The face that was upturned to hers was no longer the insolent, +heavy face of success which we have attempted to describe, but one +in which the sudden leaping into evidence of a soul dismissed facts +of color, contour, and line as matters of no importance. If there +was wickedness in his glance, there were also awe and wonder. He +had a tortured look, the look of a man who has fallen from +unknowable heights--from an Elysium which he regrets and desires +with all a strong man's strength, but to which the way back is +irrevocably barred by the degradation and the sin of the +descent--and who, all but overwhelmed by the knowledge that he can +never return whence he came, yet bears his eternal loss with an +iron courage that has about it a kind of splendor.</p> +<p>Barbara Ferris felt that she was looking upon Satan in that +moment when he first realized that his fall from heaven was for +eternity and that, against every torturing passion of conviction, +he must turn his talents and his fearful courage to the needs of +hell.</p> +<p>In that first moment of their meeting, she realized nothing +about the man but the terribly moving expression of his face. +Nothing else mattered. If her plastic training was equal to +catching and fixing that expression in clay or marble, she would be +made according to the mould of her ambition. The flame of art +burned white and clear in the inmost shrine of her being. She saw +before her, and beneath her, not a human being, but an inspiration. +And since inspiration is a thing swift, electric, and trebly +enticing from the fact that it presents itself shorn of all those +difficulties which afterward, during execution, so terribly appear +and multiply, her heart beat already with the exquisite bliss of an +immortal achievement. In her vocabulary at that instant it would +have been impossible to discover under B the aggressive But, or +under I the faltering If. She was inspired. It was enough.</p> +<p>Then she, in whose mind strong wings had suddenly sprouted, +perceived that the person directly responsible had not even a pair +of legs, and felt throughout her whole being a cold gushing of +horror and revolt.</p> +<p>This was not lost upon Blizzard. It was an ordinary enough human +sensation, whose reflections had often enough given the iron that +was in his soul another twist and refreshed in him vengefulness and +hatred. Yet on the present occasion the knowledge that he was +physically loathed roused in the man a feeling rather of that +despair which may be experienced by the drowning at that precise +moment when the straw so eagerly clutched has proved itself a +straw, and he winced as beneath a shocking blow between the +eyes.</p> +<p>On discovering that the creature was maimed it had been +Barbara's first impulse to pass swiftly on. But another glance at +the face which had arrested her held her. She took some coins from +her purse and dropped them into the tin cup which the beggar held +out to her. And he looked upward into her face.</p> +<p>"Did you ever pose for any one?" she asked.</p> +<p>"Yes, miss."</p> +<p>"I should like to make a bust of you. I'll see that it pays you +better than--better than earning a living this way."</p> +<p>For the first time Blizzard smiled. "Do you want me to come +now?" he asked.</p> +<p>"Yes," she said. "My studio is in No. 17 McBurney Place." Here +she stopped upon a somewhat embarrassing thought. But the legless +man read what was in her mind.</p> +<p>"Two flights up?" he queried. "Three? I can climb. Don't trouble +about that."</p> +<p>"You will come as soon as you can?"</p> +<p>"I have to meet a man here in half an hour. Then I'll come."</p> +<p>"Please," she said, "ask for Miss Ferris."</p> +<br> +<a name="page050.jpg"></a> +<p class="ctr"><img src="images/page050.jpg" width="50%" alt= +""><br> +<b>She took some coins from her purse and dropped them into the tin +cup.</b></p> +<br> +<p>At the name a tremor went through the legless man from head to +stump. He blanched, and for the thousandth part of a second all +that was devil in him rushed with smouldering lights to his eyes. +But of this Barbara perceived nothing; her repugnance mastered, she +had already brightly smiled, nodded, and was walking swiftly away, +her head high, spring air in her lungs and inspiration in her +heart.</p> +<p>The beggar's eyes playing upon her, she passed through the +peaceful warm sunshine of the quiet old square, and vanished at +last into the still brighter sunshine and still older quiet of +McBurney Place.</p> +<p>To work with her own hands, at least until she had made +something beautiful, seemed to her a better aim than any other +which the world offers. She had at first been the victim of private +lessons, amusedly approved by her father, and only intermittently +attended by herself, since it is not in a day that a fashionable +idler is turned into a steadily toiling aspirant for eternal +honors. Just so long as she remained an amateur and occasional +potterer in her father's house she was applauded by him and assumed +by the world in general to be a very talented young lady; but when, +her artistic impulses--if not her technique--having strengthened +amazingly, she insisted upon the steadier routine of an art school, +she met with an opposition as narrow, it seemed to her, as it was +firm. Her own will in the matter, however, proved the stronger. And +having passed with excellent rapidity through those grades of the +school in which the student is taught to make cubes and spheres, +she modelled from the antique, and at last, upon a day almost +sacred in her memory, was promoted to the life class.</p> +<p>And here, one morning, Dr. Ferris, interested in spite of +himself in her swift progress, found her, with a number of other +young ladies and gentlemen, earnestly at work making, from +different angles of vision, greenish clay statuettes of a handsome +young Italian laborer who had upon his person no clothes whatever. +That fastidious surgeon, to whom naked bodies, and indeed naked +hearts, could have been nothing new, was shocked almost out of his +wits. He had left only the good sense and the good manners not to +make a scene. He beat instead a quiet, if substantial, retreat, and +put off the hour of reckoning. His daughter was soiled in his eyes, +and when she explained to him that a naked man was not a naked man +to her, but a "stunning" assemblage of planes, angles, curves, +lights, and shadows, he could not understand. And they quarrelled +as furiously as it is possible for well-bred persons to quarrel. He +commanded. She denied his right to command. He threatened. She +denied his right first to create a life, and then to spoil it. He +advanced the duty of children to parents, and she the duty of +parents to children. Finally Barbara, thoroughly incensed at having +her mind and her ambition held so cheap, flung out with: "Have you +<i>never</i> made a mistake of judgment?" And was astounded to see +her father wither, you may say, and all in an instant show the +first tremors she had ever seen in him of age and a life of immense +strain and responsibility. From that moment the activity of his +opposition waned. She knew that her will had conquered, and the +knowledge distressed her so that she burst into tears.</p> +<p>"My dear," said her father, "I once made a very terrible mistake +of judgment. There isn't a day of my life altogether free from +remorse and regret. I have given you money and position. It isn't +enough, it seems. My dear, take the benefit of the doubt into the +bargain. If I am making another terrible mistake, you must bear at +least a portion of the responsibility."</p> +<p>It is curious, or perhaps only natural, that Barbara was at the +moment more interested to know what her father's great mistake of +judgment had been than in the fact that her ambition had won his +tolerance and consent, if not his approval and support. If she had +asked him then and there, for he was still greatly moved, he might +have told her, but reticence caught the question by the wings, and +the moment passed.</p> +<p>And they resumed together their life of punctilious +thoughtfulness and good manners. Dr. Ferris continued to cut up +famous bodies for famous fees, while Barbara continued to do what +she could to reproduce the bodies of more humble persons, for no +reward greater than the voice of her teacher with his variously +intonated; "Go to eet, Mees Barbara! go to eet."</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="VIII"></a>VIII</h2> +<br> +<p>It was a discouraged but resolute Barbara who stepped forth from +her father's house that bright morning in May and passed rather +than walked down the quiet upper stretches of Fifth Avenue. That +she might fail in art, and make a mess of her life generally, +sometimes occurred to her. And it was a thought which immeasurably +distressed her. It would be too dreadful a humiliation to crawl +back into the place which she had so confidently quitted for a +better; to be pointed out as a distinguished amateur who had not +succeeded as a professional; and to take up once more the rounds of +dinners, dances, and sports which serve so well to keep the +purposeless young and ignorant.</p> +<p>To society the tragedy of Barbara's back-sliding into art was +very real. Dozens of men said very frankly that they missed her +like the very devil. "There is nobody else," they said, "quite so +straightforward, or quite so good-looking."</p> +<p>Hers was a face not less vivid than a light. It seemed that in +her, the greatest artist of all, abandoning the accepted +conventions of beauty, had created an original masterpiece. If she +had been too thin, her eyes, tranquil, sea-blue, and shining, must +have been too large. Her nose was Phidian Greek; her chin, but for +an added youthful tenderness, was almost a replica of Madame +Duse's; a long round throat carried nobly a gallant round head, +upon which the hair was of three distinct colors. The brown in the +Master's workshop had not, it seemed, held out; she had been +finished with tones of amber and deep red. The brown was straight, +the red waved, the amber rioted in curls and tendrils. Below this +exquisite massing of line and color, against a low broad forehead, +were set, crookedly, short narrow eyebrows of an intense black; her +eyelashes were of the same divine inkiness, very warm and long; a +mouth level to the world, resolute, at the corners a little +smiling, was scarlet against a smooth field of golden-brown.</p> +<p>If she had a certain admiration of her own beauty it was the +admiration of an artist for the beauty of a stranger. Since she had +had neither hand nor say in her own making, the results were +neither to her credit nor against it. For success in her chosen +line she would have exchanged her beauty very willingly for a plain +mask, her glorious youth for a sedate middle age. She would have +given perhaps an eye, an ear, or so at least she thought in this +ardent and generous period of early beginnings and insatiable +ambition. In her thoughts nothing seemed to matter to her but +art.</p> +<p>There was no sustaining pleasure in the fact that her father had +given in to her. Opposition--unspoken, it is true, but not to be +mistaken--remained in his attitude toward her. He found indirect +means for conveying his idea and that of her friends that she was +wasting herself upon a folly, and was destined, if she persisted in +it, to only the most mediocre success. An exhibition of her works, +undertaken with the avowed wish to know "just where she stood," had +been discouraging in its results. The art critics either refused to +take her seriously or expressed the opinion that there were already +in the world too many sculptors of distinguished technique and no +imagination whatsoever. Her friends told her that she was a +"wonder." And there were little incidents of the farce which caused +her to bite her lips in humiliation.</p> +<p>That the critics should be at the pains of telling her that she +was without imagination angered her, since it was a fact already +better known to herself. And in one moment she would determine at +all costs to prove herself an imaginative artist, and in the next +"to chuck the whole business." But she could not make up her mind +whether it is worse for a captain to wait for actual defeat or, +having perceived its inevitability, to surrender. To go down with +colors flying appeals perhaps to noble sides of man; but it is a +waste of ships, lives, and treasure.</p> +<p>Passing swiftly down the avenue, she did not know whether, upon +arriving at her studio in McBurney Place, she should get into her +working-apron or make an end, once and for all, of artistic +pursuits. But with the lifting of the legless beggar's face to +hers, all doubts vanished from her mind like smoke from a room when +the windows and doors are opened. Whatever his face might have +revealed to another, to her it was Satan's, newly fallen, and she +read into it a whole wonder of sin, tragedy, desolation, and +courage; and knew well that if she could reproduce what she seemed +to see, the world would be grateful to her. She would give it a +face which it would never make an end of discussing, which should +be in sculpture what the face of Mona Lisa is in painting. It would +be the face of a man whom one jury would hang upon the merest +suspicion; for whom another would return a verdict of "not guilty" +no matter what the nature of his proved crimes; and whether the +face was beautiful or hideous would be a matter of dispute for the +ages.</p> +<p>Upon arriving at No. 17 McBurney Place, and having climbed two +flights of stairs, the door of her studio was opened before she +could lay hand to the knob, and a very small boy with very big +eyes, and no more flesh upon his bones than served to distinguish +him from a living skeleton, appeared on the threshold, smiling, you +may say, from head to foot. He was dressed in a blue suit with +bobbed tails and a double row of bright brass buttons down the +front, and when she had gathered him from the gutter in which he +had reached to his present stunted stature, a child half gone in +pneumonia, he had told her that his name, his whole name, was +"Bubbles" and nothing but "Bubbles."</p> +<p>"Good morning, Miss Barbara," he said; "the plumber's bin and +gone, and the feller from the hardware store has swore hell be +around before noon to fix the new knobs in the doors."</p> +<p>"Good!" said Barbara. "Well done, Bubbles."</p> +<p>And she passed into the studio, wondering why a little face all +knotting with smiles, affection, and the pleasure of commands +lovingly received and well obeyed, should remind her of that other +face, massive, sardonic, lost, satanic, which had looked up into +hers across the battered tin cup on the top of a battered +street-organ. She turned to a little clay head that she had made +recently and for which Bubbles had sat; touched it here and there, +stepped back from it, turned her own head to the left, to the +right, and even, such was the concentration of her mood, showed +between her red lips the tip of a still redder tongue. But no +matter what she did to test and undo her first impression there +persisted between the two faces a certain likeness, though in just +what this resemblance consisted she was unable to say.</p> +<p>"Bubbles," she said, "you were telling me about beggars the +other day and how much they make, and how rich some of them are. +Did you ever run across one that sells shoe-laces, plays a +hand-organ, and hasn't got any legs?"</p> +<p>"Sure," said he; "there's half a dozen in the city." And he +named them. "Burbage: he's the real thing, got his legs took off by +a cannon-ball in the wars. Prior: he ain't no 'count. Drunk and +fell under a elevated train. He ain't saved nothing neither. He +drinks <i>his</i>. Echmeyer: he's some Jew; worth every cent of +fifty thousand dollars. They calls him congen<i>eye</i>tul, 'cause +he was born with his legs lef off him. Fun Barnheim: he's German, +went asleep in the shade of a steam-roller, and never woke up till +his legs was rolled out flat as a pair of pants that's just bin +ironed. Then o' course there's Blizzard."</p> +<p>Barbara was smiling. "What became of his <i>legs</i>, +Bubbles?"</p> +<p>"God knows," returned the boy. "Blizzard don't boast about it +like the others. But he ain't no common beggar. He's a man."</p> +<p>"A good man?"</p> +<p>"Good? He ain't got a kinder thought in his block than settin' +fire to houses and killin' people. But when he says 'step,' +<i>it</i> steps."</p> +<p>"It?"</p> +<p>"The East Side, Miss Barbara. He's the whole show."</p> +<p>"What does he look like?"</p> +<p>The boy at first thought in vain for a simile, and then, having +found one to his liking, emitted with great earnestness that the +beggar, Blizzard, looked exactly like "the wrath of God." Whatever +the boy's simile may convey to the reader, to Barbara, fresh from +seeing the man himself, it had a wonderful aptness.</p> +<p>"That's my man," she exclaimed. "Blizzard! He's got a wonderful +face, Bubbles, and you said just what it looks like. I'm going to +make a bust of him."</p> +<p>"He's coming here?"</p> +<p>"Yes. Why not?"</p> +<p>The boy was troubled. "Miss Barbara," he said earnestly, "I +wouldn't go for to touch that man with a ten-foot pole."</p> +<p>"I shan't touch him, except with compasses to take measurements. +He's civil-spoken enough."</p> +<p>"He's bad," said Bubbles, "bad. And when I say bad, I mean +millions of things that you never heard tell of, and never will. If +he comes in here--and, and raises hell, don't blame <i>me</i>."</p> +<p>Barbara laughed. "He will come here, and sit perfectly still," +she said, "until he wishes he was dead. And then he will receive +money, and an invitation to come to-morrow. And then he will go +away."</p> +<p>Bubbles looked unnaturally solemn and dejected.</p> +<p>"Besides," said Barbara, "I have you to protect me."</p> +<p>Though Bubbles made no boast, a world of resolution swept into +his great eyes, and you knew by the simultaneous rising toward his +chin of all the buttons upon the front of his jacket that he had +drawn the long breath of courage, and stiffened the articulations +of his spine.</p> +<p>Barbara's studio was a large, high-ceilinged room, whose north +wall was almost entirely composed of glass. It was singularly bare +of those hangings, lanterns, antique cabinets, carved chairs, +scraps of brocade, brass candle-sticks six or seven, feet high, +samovars, pewter porringers, spinning-wheels, etc., etc., upon +which so many artists appear to depend for comfort and inspiration. +Nor were there any notable collections of dust, or fragments of +meals, or dirty plates. There was neither a Winged Victory, a Venus +de Milo, nor a Hermes after Praxiteles. And except for the bust of +Bubbles there was no example of Barbara's own work by which to fish +for stray compliments from the casual visitor. Of the amenities the +studio had but a thick carpet, an open fireplace, and a pair of +plain but easy chairs. Upon a strong tremorless table placed near +the one great window, a huge lump of clay, swathed in damp cloths, +alone served to denote the occupant's avocation.</p> +<p>Off the studio, however, Barbara had a pleasantly furnished room +in which she might loaf, make tea, or serve a meal, and this in +turn was separated from the tiny room in which Bubbles slept, by a +small but practical kitchen.</p> +<p>Barbara having withdrawn to roll up her sleeves and put on her +work-apron, the legless beggar arrived in silence at the outer door +of the studio, and having drawn a long breath, knocked, and +Bubbles, not without an uncomfortable fluttering of the heart, +pulled it open. The boy and the beggar, being about the same +height, looked each other in the face with level eyes.</p> +<p>"<i>So</i>," said Blizzard, "this is what has become of you. You +were reported dead."</p> +<p>"No, sir," said Bubbles, "I wasn't dead, only sick. She brought +me here, and had her own father and a nurse to take care of me. And +now I'm Buttons." And he went on glibly: "Come right in; Miss +Ferris is expecting you. I guess she wants you to sit on the +platform over in the window."</p> +<p>Blizzard, having unslung his hand-organ and slid it with a show +of petulance into a corner, crossed the room, swinging strongly and +easily between his crutches, like a fine piece of machinery, +climbed upon the model's platform, and seated himself in the plain +deal chair which already occupied it. From this point of vantage he +turned and looked down at the boy.</p> +<p>"So," he said, "her father <i>is</i> Dr. Ferris."</p> +<p>"He's <i>the</i> Dr. Ferris," Bubbles returned loyally.</p> +<p>"So--so--so," said the legless one slowly, and he closed his +eyes for a moment as if he was tired. Then, opening them, and in +abrupt tones: "Pay you well?"</p> +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> +<p>"Many people come here?"</p> +<p>Bubbles, who had gone to school--not in the schools, but in the +city of New York itself--could lie without the least tremor or +change of feature, and with remarkable suddenness. "Lots and lots +of 'em," he said. "<i>She's</i> well known."</p> +<p>Blizzard merely grunted. "Tell her I've come."</p> +<p>But it was not necessary for Bubbles to give the message at the +door of the inner room, since at that moment Barbara entered, her +round arms bare to the elbow and her street dress completely hidden +by a sort of blue gingham overall. Bubbles, whose presence was not +required during working hours, at once withdrew to his bedroom.</p> +<p>Here he changed his tunic of brass buttons for a plain gray +jacket, snatched his cap from its hook, gained the street by a back +stair, and set off at the tireless street-boy trot that eats up the +blocks. Half an hour later he returned, his face no longer wearing +a look of anxiety, changed back into his many-buttoned jacket of +dependence, and sitting upon his bed, his back against the pillows, +proceeded with astonishing deftness and precision to figure with +the stump of a pencil, upon the leaves of a small dog-eared +note-book. Then, appearing to have achieved a satisfactory solution +of whatever problem he had had occasion to attack, he began to go +through a series of restless fidgetings, which ended with a sigh of +relief and a guilty look, and producing from a hiding-place a +cigarette, he smoked it out of the window, so that his room might +not carry forward the faintest trace of its telltale odor.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="IX"></a>IX</h2> +<br> +<p>When Barbara at length told the legless man that he might rest, +he appeared to think that she had invited him to converse. He +leaned back as far as he could in the deal chair. His expression +was no longer that which had struck Barbara so hard in the +imagination, but one of easy and alert affability. He looked at her +when he spoke, or when she spoke, but casually and without offence. +Whatever feelings surged in him were for the moment carefully +controlled and put aside. In his manner was neither obtrusiveness +nor servility, only a kind of well-schooled ease and directness. In +short, he behaved and spoke like a gentleman.</p> +<p>"You're the first person I ever sat for," he said, "who hasn't +asked me how I lost my legs."</p> +<p>Barbara, regarding the rough blocking of his head which she had +made, smiled amiably. That first impression of him, still vivid and +lucid in her mind, appeared already, almost of its own accord, to +have registered itself in the lump of clay. And she could not but +feel that she had laid the groundwork of a masterpiece. If the +beggar wished to converse, she would converse--anything to keep him +in the mood for returning to pose as often as she should have need +of him. And so, though entirely absorbed by the face which she had +found, and at the moment almost uncharitably indifferent to the +legs which he had lost, she raised her eyes to him, still smiling, +and said:</p> +<p>"It wasn't from want of interest, I assure you. I'm sorry you +lost them, and I should like to know how it happened."</p> +<p>"Bravely spoken," said the beggar.</p> +<p>"I have been told," said Barbara, "that you are a great power in +the East Side, a sort of overlord."</p> +<p>"Even a beggar has flatterers. They overrate me." The +accompanying shrug of his great shoulders had an affectation of +humility. "Now, if I had a pair of legs--but I haven't. And if I +had I shouldn't be an East-Sider. For the maimed, the crippled, the +diseased, it is pleasantest to be in residence on the East Side. +You have company. You may forget your own misfortunes in +contemplating the greater misfortunes of others."</p> +<p>"Do you mind telling me," she asked, "where you learned your +English?"</p> +<p>"My father," Blizzard explained, "was rather a distinguished +man--Massachusetts Institute of Technology man, University of +Berlin, degree from Harvard and Oxford. He had a prim way of +putting things. I suppose I caught it."</p> +<p>The usual whine about better days was missing from the beggar's +voice. If he seemed a little proud of his high beginnings, he did +not seem in the least perturbed by the contemplation of his fallen +estate. Barbara was by now frankly interested, and proceeded with +characteristic directness to ask questions.</p> +<p>"Is your father living?"</p> +<p>"No. But it would hardly matter. We became thoroughly +incompatible after my accident. He had very high ambitions for me, +and a chronic disgust for anything abnormal--such as little boys +who had had their legs snipped off. I didn't like it either. I +suspect it made an unusually vicious child of me, a wicked, +vengeful child."</p> +<p>Blizzard's candid expression implied that he had, however, soon +seen the evil of his youthful ways, and turned over a whole volume +of new leaves.</p> +<p>"What happened?" Barbara asked.</p> +<p>Blizzard laughed. "I cannot be said to have run away," he +answered, "but I got away as best I could, and stayed away. My +father settled money upon me. And that was the end of our +relations."</p> +<p>"And then," said Barbara, "you, being young and foolish, lost +your money."</p> +<p>"Oh, no!" he exclaimed. "I was a very bad little boy, but much +too ambitious to be foolish. And you know you can't get very far in +this world without money."</p> +<p>"Still," said Barbara, "a hand-organ and a tin cup?"</p> +<p>"A loiterer in the streets of New York," the beggar explained, +"picks up knowledge not to be had in any other way. Knowledge is +power."</p> +<p>"Then you don't have to beg, don't have to pose, don't have to +do anything you don't want to do?"</p> +<p>"Oh, yes, I do. I have to crawl while others walk. I have to +wait and procrastinate, where another might rush in and dare."</p> +<p>Again that first expression of Satan fallen overpowered the +casual ease and even levity of his face. But he shifted his eyes +lest Barbara see into them and be frightened by that which +smouldered in their stony depths.</p> +<p>Without a word, Barbara stepped eagerly forward to the rough +model that she had made of his head, and once more attacked her +inspiration with eager hands. The beggar held himself motionless +like a thing of stone, only his eyes roved a little, drinking in, +you may say, that white loveliness which was Barbara at such +moments as her own eyes were upon her work, and turning swiftly +away when she lifted them in scrutiny of him. Now and then she made +measurements of him with a pair of compasses. At such times it +seemed to him that her nearness was more than his unschooled +passions could bear with any appearance of apathy. Though a child +of the nineteenth century, he had been enabled for many years to +give way, almost whenever he pleased, to the instincts of primitive +man, which, except for the greater frequency of their occurrence, +differ in no essential way from the instincts of wild beasts.</p> +<p>Had she been a girl of the East Side he would not have hesitated +upon the present occasion or in the present surroundings. But she +was a girl of wealth and high position. It was not enough that his +hands could stifle an outcry, or that the policeman upon the +nearest beat was more in his own employ than in that of the city. +Cold reason showed him that in the present case impunity was for +once doubtful.</p> +<p>Her hands dropped from their work to her sides.</p> +<p>"How goes it?" asked the beggar.</p> +<p>"If it goes as it's gone," she said--"if it only does!"</p> +<p>"It <i>will</i>," said the beggar, and there was a strong +vibration of faith and encouragement in his voice. "May I +look?"</p> +<p>"Of course."</p> +<p>He came down from the platform, and she could not but admire the +almost superhuman facility with which he moved upon his crutches. +Halting at ease, before the beginning which she had made, he +remained for a long time silent. Then, turning to her, he freed his +right hand from the cross-piece of his crutch, and lifted it to his +forehead in a sort of salute.</p> +<p>"Master!" he said.</p> +<p>The blood in Barbara's veins tingled with pleasure. He had +thrown into his strong, rich voice an added wealth of sincerity, +and she knew, or thought she knew, that at last the work of her +hands had moved another, who, whatever else he might have been, was +by his own showing no fool, but a man having in him much that was +extraordinary. And she felt a sudden friendliness for the legless +beggar.</p> +<p>His eyes still upon the clay--knowing, considering, measuring, +appraising eyes--he said shortly and with decision: "We must go on +with this."</p> +<p>"To-morrow--could you come to-morrow at the same time?"</p> +<p>"I <i>will</i>," he said.</p> +<p>"Good. Are you hungry?"</p> +<p>But the legless man did not appear to have heard her. A sound in +the adjoining room had arrested his attention. He listened to it +critically and then smiled.</p> +<p>"A good workman," he said, "is turning a screw into wood."</p> +<p>"How clever of you," said Barbara. "There was a man coming from +Schlemmer's to put on some glass knobs for me. Bubbles has brought +him in by the back stairs."</p> +<p>The faint crunching sound of the screw going into the wood +ceased. There was a knock on the door.</p> +<p>"Come in," said Barbara.</p> +<p>Bubbles appeared in the opening. "We're all through in +here."</p> +<p>It did not at once strike Barbara that to have finished his work +in the next room the man from Schlemmer's must have arrived upon +the scene very much earlier than he had promised. And she could not +by any possibility have guessed that Bubbles, in a state of nervous +alarm, had slipped down the back stairs and run all the way to the +hardware store to fetch him.</p> +<p>"He may as well begin in here, then," she said; "I'm through for +this morning." And she turned to the beggar. "To-morrow--at the +same time?"</p> +<p>He nodded briefly, but did not at once turn to go. He wished, it +seemed, to have a good look at the young workman who now followed +Bubbles into the studio. And so did Barbara, the moment she saw +him.</p> +<p>To her critical eye he was quite the best-looking young man she +had ever seen "in the world or out of it." He was tall, broad, +round-necked, narrow in the hips, and of a fine brown coloring. He +carried with easy grace a strong, well-massed head, to which the +close adherence of the ears, and the shortness of the dark-brown +shiny hair, gave an effect of high civilization and finish. Brown, +level eyes, neither hard nor soft, but of a twinkling habit, a nose +straight, thick, finely chiselled, an emphatic chin, and a large +mouth of extraordinary sweetness, were not lost upon Barbara, but +that which served most to arrest her attention was that resemblance +which she at once perceived to exist between the young workman and +the legless beggar. Yet between Bubbles, who also resembled +Blizzard in her eyes or in her imagination, and the youth from the +hardware store, she was unable, swiftly comparing them, to find +anything in common. To the one nature had denied even full growth +and development; upon the other she had lavished muscle, blood, and +bone. The small boy had a ragged, peaked, pathetic face, hair that +sprouted every which way, the eyes of an invalid, ears of unequal +size and different shapes, that stuck straight out from his +head--all the stampings, in short, of street-birth and +gutter-raising. The workman had an efficient, commanding look, the +easy, strong motions of an athlete trained and proved. Neither in +the least resembled the other, yet both resembled the legless +beggar, who in turn resembled Satan after the fall--and Barbara was +inclined to laugh.</p> +<p>"I am so obsessed with one man's face," she thought, "that I see +something of it in all other faces."</p> +<p>"Good-morning, Harry." It was the beggar's voice, cool, and +perhaps a little insolent.</p> +<p>"Good-morning, Blizzard." The young man nodded curtly and turned +to Barbara. "Do you wish all the knobs changed?"</p> +<p>"Please."</p> +<br> +<a name="page072-073.jpg"></a> +<p class="ctr"><img src="images/page072-073.jpg" width="100%" alt= +""><br> +<b>The young man knelt at the door by which he had entered and +began to remove its ancient lock.</b></p> +<br> +<p>Without another word, the young man knelt at the door by which +he had entered and began with the aid of a long screw-driver to +remove its ancient lock of japanned iron and coarse white +china.</p> +<p>"What's the best news with you, Harry?"</p> +<p>The young man did not look up from his work. "That the water'll +soon be warm enough for swimming," he said.</p> +<p>To Barbara that answer seemed pleasantly indicative of a healthy +nature and a healthy mind.</p> +<p>"It's a curious thing," observed the beggar, "how many more +people drown themselves when the water is nice and warm than when +it is cold and inhospitable. And yet it's in the cold months that +the most people receive visits from despair."</p> +<p>Bubbles looked up, wondering. In his experience the legless +beggar had no manner of language different from that of the streets +to which he belonged. But now he spoke as Miss Barbara spoke, only, +perhaps we may be permitted so to express it, very much more +so.</p> +<p>Barbara turned to the beggar. "I haven't paid you."</p> +<p>But he retreated in smiling protest, picked up his hand-organ, +and slung it across his shoulders. "The door, Bubbles."</p> +<p>Bubbles sprang to let the beggar out.</p> +<p>"To-morrow," said Barbara, "at the same time. Good-by, and thank +you."</p> +<p>"Good-by, and thank <i>you</i>," said Blizzard.</p> +<p>Bubbles followed him to the head of the stairs and watched, not +without admiration, the astounding ease of the legless one's rapid +descent.</p> +<p>Harry, the workman, having disengaged the old japanned lock from +the door, rose to his feet, and turned to Barbara with a certain +quiet eagerness. "Look here," he said, "it's none of my business, +but I know, and you don't. That man," he waved the screw-driver +toward the door by which Blizzard had departed, "is poison. There's +nothing he'd stop at. Nothing."</p> +<p>"Quite so," said Barbara coldly; "and, as you say, it's hardly +anybody's affair but mine."</p> +<p>The workman was good-nature personified. "If you <i>must</i> go +on with him," he said, "haven't you a big brother or somebody with +nothing better to do than drop in, and," his eyes sought the clay +head of Blizzard, "watch the good work go on?" He stepped closer to +the head, and examined it with real interest. "It <i>is</i> good +work," he said; "it's splendid."</p> +<p>Barbara was mollified. "What," she said, "is so very wrong about +poor Mr. Blizzard?"</p> +<p>"Oh," said the young man, "we know a great deal about him, and +we are trying very hard to gather the proofs."</p> +<p>"<i>We?</i>"</p> +<p>"I'm a very little wheel in the machinery of the secret +service."</p> +<p>"I <i>knew</i>," said Barbara, "the moment I saw you that you +weren't <i>only</i> a locksmith or a carpenter. Does Mr. Blizzard +know what you are?"</p> +<p>"He can't prove it, unless you tell him."</p> +<p>"I sha'n't do that."</p> +<p>"How often will he have to pose for you?"</p> +<p>"Heaven only knows. But I think"--and she looked the young man +in the face, and smiled, for his face had charmed her--"I think +that if ever I finish with Mr. Blizzard, I shall ask you to be my +next model."</p> +<p>The admiration with which the young man regarded Barbara was no +less frankly and openly expressed than was hers for him. "Until +this moment," he said, "I have never understood the eager desire +which some people have to sit for their portraits. Whenever +<i>you</i> say."</p> +<p>She laughed. "And the new door-knobs?"</p> +<p>"Just because a man belongs to the secret service," returned the +youth, "is no reason why he shouldn't attempt once in a while to do +something really useful."</p> +<p>And he knelt once more and took up his work where he had left +off. Barbara stood by and watched him at it. "I would like to do +his hands, too," she thought, "when I can get round to it." They +were very strong, square, able hands. She found herself wishing to +touch them. And since this was a wish that she had never +experienced for any other pair of hands, she wondered at herself +with a frank and childish wonder.</p> +<p>"Your taxi, Miss Barbara."</p> +<p>"Thank you, Bubbles."</p> +<p>She slipped out of her overall, and with swift touches adjusted +her hat at a small mirror. The secret-service agent once more rose +from his knees.</p> +<p>"Good-by," said Barbara, "and thank you, and don't forget."</p> +<p>"Never," said he.</p> +<p>She shook hands with him, and his firm strong clasp, literally +swallowing her own little hand, was immensely pleasant to her and +of a fine friendliness.</p> +<p>"Good-by, Bubbles. See you in the morning."</p> +<p>"Good-by, Miss Barbara."</p> +<p>She was gone. The man resumed his work. The boy watched.</p> +<p>"Harry."</p> +<p>"What?"</p> +<p>"Was I right?"</p> +<p>"Right."</p> +<br> +<a name="page074.jpg"></a> +<p class="ctr"><img src="images/page074.jpg" width="50%" alt= +""><br> +<b>Harry, the workman, ... rose to his feet, and turned to Barbara +with a certain quiet eagerness.</b></p> +<br> +<p>"A wonder--or not?"</p> +<p>"A wonder."</p> +<p>"Harry."</p> +<p>"What?"</p> +<p>"You won't leave Blizzard up to me all alone, will you? Not +<i>now</i>, you won't?"</p> +<p>"No, Bubbles, not now. Whenever he's posing in this room, you +and I won't be far off."</p> +<p>"Because," said Bubbles, smiling with relief, "I'd do my best, +but if it came to a show-down with <i>him</i> there ain't a thing I +<i>could</i> do."</p> +<p>"One time or another," said Harry, "we'll <i>get</i> him. You +and I will."</p> +<p>"I betcher," said Bubbles.</p> +<p>And in his little peaked face there was much that was +threatening to the ultimate welfare of the legless beggar.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="X"></a>X</h2> +<br> +<p>Barbara, ordinarily clear-minded and single-minded, drove uptown +with her thoughts in a state of chaos. She wished to think only +about her newly begun head of Satan fallen, since nothing else +seemed to her at the moment of any importance, but the face, hands, +and voice of the young secret-service agent refused to be banished, +and kept suing for kindly notice.</p> +<p>In almost the exact degree in which the legless beggar was +repulsive to her sense of perfection the secret-service agent was +attractive. She had never seen a man so agreeable to her eyes. And +yet, as a marine artist might see fame in painting a wreck upon a +sea-shore, rather than a fine new ship under full sail, so she felt +that, artistically considered, there was no comparison whatever +between the two men. The face of the elder compelled attention and +study, and loosed in the observer's mind a whole stream of +conjecture and unanswerable questions. The face of the younger +began and ended perhaps in the attractions of youth and high +spirits. It was a face of which, should the mind back of it prove +wanting, you might tire, and learn to look upon as commonplace.</p> +<p>In the midst of unguided thinking Barbara laughed aloud; that +small boy whom she had lifted from the cold gutter to comparative +affluence and incomparable affection for his rescuer came unbidden +into the flurry-scurry of her thoughts, and remained for some time. +And she knew that if all her friends should fail her, if the beggar +returned no more to be modelled, if the secret-service agent proved +but a handsome empty shell, Bubbles would always show up at the +appointed time and place while life remained in him. Then, again, +as she tried to concentrate upon her bust of Blizzard, the +secret-service agent stepped forward, you may say, and smiled into +her eyes. And she smiled back. Again she seemed to feel the strong +clasp of his hand, and to hear the agreeable and even musical +intonation of his strong voice. Odd, she thought, that he should +come to put on door-knobs, turn out to be a secret-service agent, +and have at the same time, if not the characteristics of a fine +gentleman, those at least of a man of education and sensibility +infinitely superior to the highest type of day-laborer or +detective. One of her new acquaintances talked like a gentleman and +claimed to be the son of a distinguished man; the other, claiming +nothing, was infinitely more presentable; and there was only the +small boy who remained frankly representative of his class. In +spite of his coat of bright buttons, he was of the streets streety; +a valiant little ragamuffin, in all but the actual rags. He had the +morals of his class and the point of view, and differed only in the +excellence of his heart. This was a heart made for loving, +devotion, and sacrifice. Yet it was crammed to the brim with +knowledge of evil, and even tolerance therefor. That certain men in +certain circumstances would act in such and such a way was not a +horrible idea to Bubbles, but merely a fact. In the boy's code +stealing from a friend was stealing, but stealing from an enemy was +merely one way of making a living.</p> +<p>Upon arriving at her father's house, Barbara met Wilmot Allen +just turning away from the door. His handsome face brightened at +the sight of her, and he sprang forward hatless to furnish her with +quite unnecessary aid in stepping out of the taxi.</p> +<p>"Oh, <i>there</i> you are!" he said. "Sparker said you might be +home for lunch and again you might not. Please may I graft a +meal?"</p> +<p>"Of course," said Barbara, "but unless somebody else drops out +of the skies we'll be all alone."</p> +<p>"Your father off on a case?"</p> +<p>"Yes," said Barbara, as they went in, "he is operating, but in +Wall Street. And what's the best news with you?"</p> +<p>"That spring's come and summer's coming. When do your holidays +begin?"</p> +<p>"<i>That"</i> said Barbara, with a certain air of triumph, "is a +secret of the workshop. Let's sit in the dining-room. It's the only +way to hurry lunch."</p> +<p>To persons used to humbler ways of life Dr. Ferris's dining-room +would have proved too large and stately a place for purposes of +intimate conversation. Warriors and ladies looked down from the +tapestried walls upon a small round table set with heavy silver and +light glass for two, and having the effect, in the midst of an +immense deep-blue rug, of a little island in a lake. But Barbara +and Wilmot Allen, well used to even larger and more stately rooms, +faced each other across the white linen with its pattern of +lotus-plants and swans, and chatted as comfortably and +unconcernedly as two children in their nursery.</p> +<br> +<a name="page080.jpg"></a> +<p class="ctr"><img src="images/page080.jpg" width="100%" alt= +""><br> +<b>But Barbara and Wilmot Allen, well used to even larger and more +stately rooms, chatted ... as two children.</b></p> +<br> +<p>"As for holidays," said Barbara, "I have a new model, Wilmot; a +wonderful person, and that means <i>work</i>. I may stay in town +right through the summer."</p> +<p>Allen sighed loudly, and on purpose. "You make me tired," he +said. "Bring a lump of clay down to Newport, and <i>I'll</i> sit +for you."</p> +<p>Barbara affected to study his face critically. Then she shook +her head. "My new model," she explained, "has got the face of a +fallen angel. I think I can do it. And if I can do it, why, I see +all the good things of sculping coming my way."</p> +<p>"An ordinary every-day angel face wouldn't do?" her guest +insinuated. "I could go out and fall."</p> +<p>"I don't doubt it!" she returned somewhat crisply. "I feel very +sure that you could disgrace yourself without trouble and even with +relish. But it wouldn't show in your face. You see, you couldn't +really be wicked."</p> +<p>"Couldn't I though!" exclaimed the young man. "A lot you know +about it. I could eat you up for one thing without turning a hair, +and that would be wicked."</p> +<p>"It wouldn't," Barbara laughed. "It would be greedy. My new +model has the face of a man who has never stopped at anything that +has stood in his way. I fancy that he has murders up his sleeve and +every other crime in the calendar. And sometimes memory of them +brings the most wonderful look of sorrow and remorse into his face, +and at the same time he looks resolved to go on murdering and +burning and sinning because he can't get back to where he was when +he began to fall, and must go on falling or perish. Don't you think +that if I can cram that into a lump of clay I'll make a reputation +for myself?"</p> +<p>"I think," said Wilmot, "that if you've got that kind of a man +sitting for you, you'll need all the reputation you can get. You +talk of him with the same sort of enthusiasm that a bird would show +in describing being fascinated by a snake."</p> +<p>Barbara considered this judicially. "Do you know," she agreed, +"it is rather like that. He fascinates me, and at the same time I +never saw a brute I hated so. He must be wicked to deserve such +pain."</p> +<p>"Oh, he suffers, does he?"</p> +<p>"Of course. Wouldn't you suffer every minute of your life if you +had no legs?"</p> +<p>Barbara, intent upon what was on her plate, did not perceive the +sudden astonished darkening of Wilmot Allen's face, nor that the +interest which he had hitherto only feigned in her new model had +become genuine.</p> +<p>"What is he?"</p> +<p>"I was going to say 'just a beggar,'" said Barbara. "But he +isn't just a beggar. I've gathered that he's rather well off, and +that he's one of the powers on the East Side. And he looks money +and power, even if he doesn't talk them."</p> +<p>"Is his name by any chance Blizzard?"</p> +<p>She looked up in astonishment "How did you know?"</p> +<p>"Oh," he said cheerfully, "I've knocked about the city and known +all sorts of curious people, and heard about others. So Blizzard's +your new model. Now look here, Barbara, are we old friends, or +aren't we?"</p> +<p>"Very old friends," she said.</p> +<p>"Then let me tell you that you're a little fool to have anything +to do with a man like that. You can't touch pitch, you know, +and--"</p> +<p>"I only touch him with a pair of compasses," she interrupted +sweetly.</p> +<p>"Don't quibble," said Allen with energy; "it's not like you. +That man is so bad, so unsavory, so vile, that you simply +<i>mustn't</i> have him about. He's dangerous."</p> +<p>"So is a volcano," said Barbara, "but there's no reason why the +most innocent bread-and-butter miss shouldn't paint a picture of a +volcano if she felt inspired."</p> +<p>"I see that there's only one thing to do. I shall tell your +father."</p> +<p>Wilmot Allen was genuinely troubled. And Barbara laughed at +him.</p> +<p>"I'm not a child," she said.</p> +<p>"That's just it," said he; "that's why you ought to be ashamed +of yourself. And anyway you are a child. All girls say they aren't +until they get into a mess of some sort, and then they excuse +themselves to themselves and everybody else by protesting that they +were. 'I was so young. I didn't know,' and all that rot."</p> +<p>"Blizzard," said Barbara, "is quiet, polite, and a good talker. +He comes, he sits for me, and he goes away."</p> +<p>The butler having left the room, Wilmot fixed his rather tired +eyes on Barbara's face, and spoke with a certain earnest +tenderness. "Barbs," he said, "take it from me, happiness doesn't +lie where you think it does. I think the very highest achievements +of the very greatest artists haven't brought happiness. Look here, +old dear; put a limit to your ambition. Say that by a certain date +you'll either succeed and quit, or fail and quit, and then see if +you can't take a little more interest in your own people, in your +own heart--even in me."</p> +<p>"Wilmot," she said seriously, "if I fail with my head of +Blizzard, I think I <i>shall</i> give up."</p> +<p>"Wouldn't it be better," he pleaded, "to give up now? And then, +you know, you could always say if <i>only</i> you'd kept on you +would have made a masterpiece."</p> +<p>"And who would believe that?"</p> +<p>"<i>I!</i>" said Wilmot. "It's easy for me to believe anything +wonderful of you. It always has been."</p> +<p>"And a moment ago," she smiled, "you called me a little fool and +said you'd tell my father on me."</p> +<p>She rose, still smiling, and he followed her into the +library.</p> +<p>"Are all the studios in your building occupied?" he asked.</p> +<p>"They are," said Barbara, "and they aren't. Kelting, who has the +ground floor, has gone abroad. And Updyke, who has the third floor, +has been in Bermuda all winter." She sank into a deep leather chair +that half swallowed her.</p> +<p>"There's a janitor?"</p> +<p>"No. There's a janitress, a friendly old lady, quite deaf. She +has seen infinitely better days."</p> +<p>"To all intents and purposes, then," said Wilmot, and the +trouble that he felt showed in his face, "it's an empty house, and +you shut yourself up in it with some model or other that you happen +to pick up in the streets, and you don't know enough to be afraid. +You'll get yourself murdered one of these bright mornings."</p> +<p>"Oh, I think not!" said Barbara. "There's Bubbles, you +know."</p> +<p>"Oh, Bubbles!" exclaimed Wilmot. "He doesn't weigh eighty +pounds. This Blizzard--look here, get rid of him. I can't tell you +what the man is." He laughed. "I don't know you well enough. But +take my word for it, if a crime appeals to him, he commits it. And +the police can't touch him, Barbs."</p> +<p>"Why can't they?"</p> +<p>"He knows too much about them individually and collectively. +They're afraid of him. Get rid of him, Barbs."</p> +<p>Wilmot Allen's voice was strongly appealing. The fact that he +sat forward in his chair, instead of yielding to its deep and +enjoyable embrace, proved that he was very much in earnest. But +Barbara shook her lovely head.</p> +<p>"You ask too much, Wilmot. My heart's in the beginning I've +made. I've got to go on. It's a test case. If I've got +<i>anything</i> in me, now is the chance for it to show. You see, +when I made up my mind seriously to try to do worth-while things +with my own hands, everybody was against me. And the sympathy that +I am going to receive if I fail to make good is of a kind that's +almost impossible to face."</p> +<p>"Then do me a favor. It won't interfere with your work, and it +may be very useful at a pinch." He drew from his hip pocket a small +automatic pistol. "Accept this," he went on, "and keep it somewhere +handy as a sort of guardian. It's much stronger than the strongest +man."</p> +<p>"How absurd!" she said. "And what are you doing carrying +concealed weapons? I'm beginning to think that you're a desperado +yourself."</p> +<p>He rose, smiling imperturbably, and laid the pistol in her +lap.</p> +<p>"At least," she said, "show me how it works."</p> +<p>He explained the mechanism clearly and with patience, not once, +but several times. "Point it," he said, "as you would point your +finger, and keep pulling the trigger until the enemy drops."</p> +<p>"One every two hours," Barbara commented, "until relieved."</p> +<p>"May you never need it," said Wilmot, earnestly.</p> +<p>"I never shall," said Barbara. "Must I really keep it?"</p> +<p>"Yes."</p> +<p>"But you," she exclaimed, "you will be quite unprotected all the +way from here to the nearest shop where such things are sold."</p> +<p>"I shall be armed again," he smiled, "before I am threatened. +Indeed, to know that you are armed has heartened me immensely. What +are you doing this afternoon?"</p> +<p>"I don't know," she answered with provoking submissiveness; "you +haven't told me."</p> +<p>"It's just possible," he said, "that the turf courts at the +Westchester Country Club have been opened. I might telephone and +find out. Then we could collect some clothes, jump into a taxi, and +go out and open the season."</p> +<p>"You can't afford taxis, Wilmot. And you never let anybody else +pay for anything."</p> +<p>"Oh," he pleaded, "I can afford a taxi this once, believe +me."</p> +<p>"In that case," said Barbara, "I surrender."</p> +<p>"If you only would, Barbs."</p> +<p>"'Phone if you are going to, and don't be always slipping +sentiment into a business proposition," She affected to look very +stern and business-like.</p> +<p>"I shall engage the magic taxi," he affirmed.</p> +<p>"The what?"</p> +<p>"Don't you know? There's a magic taxi in the city--just one. You +get in, you give your order, and lo and behold, rivers and seas are +crossed, countries and continents, until finally you fetch up in +the place where you would be, and when you look at the meter you +find that it hasn't registered as much as a penny."</p> +<p>"Time," said Barbara, "flies even faster than a magic taxicab. +So if you are going to 'phone--"</p> +<p>"Is there no drop of sentiment in that exquisite shell which the +world knows as Barbara Ferris? Didn't any man ever mean anything to +you, Barbs?"</p> +<p>She flushed slightly, for there had come into her thoughts quite +unbidden the image of a certain young man in workman's clothes, +kneeling at a door, and removing an old japanned iron lock. She +shook her head firmly, and smiled up at him insultingly.</p> +<p>"Men, Wilmot," she said, "are nothing to me but planes, angles, +curves, masses, lights, and shadows. They are either suited to +sculpture or they aren't."</p> +<p>Wilmot laughed, and while he was busy with the telephone, +Barbara tried to think of the secret-service agent in cold terms of +planes, curves, masses, etc., and found that she couldn't. Which +discovery annoyed and perplexed her.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="XI"></a>XI</h2> +<br> +<p>The girls who plaited hats for Blizzard had just finished +luncheon and were taking their places at the long work-table. The +entrance door having clanged its bell, twenty heads bent earnestly +over twenty hats in various stages of construction, and twenty +pairs of hands leaped into skilful activity.</p> +<p>The master passed up and down on his crutches, observing +progress and despatch with slow-moving, introspective eyes. +Presently he came to a halt and clapped his hands sharply together. +Twenty pairs of eyes, some cringing, some with vestiges of +boldness, some favor-currying, sought his, and twenty pairs of +hands ceased work as when power is shut off from as many machines. +Blizzard's eyes passed slowly over the girls in a sort of +appraising review, once, and a second time.</p> +<p>"Miss Rose."</p> +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> +<p>The speaker was one of those flowers of girlhood which bloom +here and there in the slums. She might have been a princess in +exile and disguise. Even her hands and feet were fine and delicate. +And if in her expression there was a certain nervousness, there was +none of fear.</p> +<p>"Stand up."</p> +<p>She rose in her place; the corners of her mouth trembled a +little, but curled steadily upward.</p> +<p>"Stand out where I can see you."</p> +<p>She did so, with a certain defiant grace.</p> +<p>"Turn around, slowly."</p> +<p>She might have been one of those young ladies at a fashionable +dressmaker's upon whom the effect of the latest Parisian models is +continually tried. While she slowly gyrated, the legless man, +looking up at her, spoke aloud.</p> +<p>"Muck! Muck!" he said. "And yet she's the pick of the +bunch."</p> +<p>The girl kept on turning,</p> +<p>"Stand still."</p> +<p>She did as ordered, but it so happened that her back was +squarely turned upon the master.</p> +<p>"No monkey business," he shouted. "Face me! Face me!"</p> +<p>She faced him, still scornful, but white now, and biting her +lips.</p> +<p>"The rest of you," he said, "will have the rest of the day off. +Get out."</p> +<p>Seventy-six chair-legs squeaked, and Miss Rose's nineteen +companions, with murmurs and occasional nervous giggles, hurried +off to the coat-room. A few minutes later the bell of the outer +door clanged once--they were going; clanged a second time--they +were gone.</p> +<br> +<a name="page088.jpg"></a> +<p class="ctr"><img src="images/page088.jpg" width="50%" alt= +""><br> +<b>She faced him, still scornful, but white now, and biting her +lips.</b></p> +<br> +<p>Meanwhile the legless man had not taken his hard, calculating +eyes off the girl who remained. Presently he spoke. "We're alone," +he said. "I'm between you and the door." He spread his great arms, +as if to emphasize the impassability of the barrier which +confronted her. "Are you afraid?"</p> +<p>"Yes."</p> +<p>The legless man laughed. "Well said," he remarked, "and +truthfully said. And why are you afraid?"</p> +<p>"Everybody's afraid of you."</p> +<p>He regarded her for some moments in silence. "You needn't be. +Have I ever hurt you?"</p> +<p>"No."</p> +<p>"How long have you worked for me?"</p> +<p>"Five months."</p> +<p>"And you are the cleverest worker I have. You admit that?"</p> +<p>"I don't know."</p> +<p>Again he laughed. "Once," he said, "I thought you were the +prettiest girl I'd ever seen. But I've seen a prettier."</p> +<p>"I believe you."</p> +<p>"'But you've got a certain spirit. You don't cringe."</p> +<p>"Don't I?"</p> +<p>"No!" he bellowed, "you don't." And when he saw that she didn't +cringe, he laughed once more.</p> +<p>"You live with Minnie Bauer?"</p> +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> +<p>"You have no father--no mother?"</p> +<p>"No, sir."</p> +<p>"Burnt alive in a tenement fire, weren't they?"</p> +<p>She answered with a great effort, and seemed upon the verge of +tears, "Yes, sir."</p> +<p>"You will leave Minnie, and come here to live."</p> +<p>"Why?"</p> +<p>"Because I make it my business to reward the skilful, the +laborious, and the deserving."</p> +<p>She shook her head. "That's not good enough," she said.</p> +<p>"You will keep my house in order," he said; "you will learn to +help me with the piano. You will have fine clothes to wear, and the +spending of plenty of money."</p> +<p>"Not good enough," she repeated.</p> +<p>"I have read you these five months as if you were a book. You +are loyal to your friends. You can keep secrets. I admire you. +There are many things that I wish to talk about. But I cannot talk +about them except to some one that I can trust. Will you stay?"</p> +<p>She shook her head, but the legless man smiled, as he might have +smiled if she had nodded it.</p> +<p>"I am suffering," he said, "the tortures of the damned. I ask +you for help and for comfort, and you refuse them."</p> +<p>A look curiously like tenderness swam into the girl's eyes. The +beggar moved sideways upon his crutches.</p> +<p>"If you want to go," he said, "the way's open."</p> +<p>"Can I really go if I want to, and not come back?"</p> +<p>"You really can," he said. "Most things that I want I take, but +a man can't take help and comfort unless they are freely +given."</p> +<p>She moved slowly forward as if to discover the truth of his +statement that the way was open. He made not the least gesture of +interference. When she was between him and the outer door and +rather nearer the latter, she turned about sharply.</p> +<p>"What's troubling you?" she asked.</p> +<p>"The fact," he said, and there was a something really charming +in the expression of his mouth and eyes, "that though I can give +orders to very many people, and be obeyed as a general is obeyed by +his soldiers in war times, I have no friend. Fear attracts this +person to me, self-interest attracts that person, but there's no +one that's held to me by friendship."</p> +<p>"You're only asking me to be your friend?"</p> +<p>"You will be as safe in my house as in the rooms of the Gerry +Society."</p> +<p>"If you want me for a friend why did you call me <i>muck</i> +just now?"</p> +<p>"I don't want the others to know that we are friends. I want +them to think--what they always think."</p> +<p>"How do I know you trust me?"</p> +<p>"Lock the street door," he said; "you're younger than I. It's +easier for you to move about."</p> +<p>She locked the door and returned.</p> +<p>"Are you staying," he asked, "through curiosity or +friendship?"</p> +<p>"Look here," she said, "it's neither, Can't you guess what ails +me?"</p> +<p>"Tell me."</p> +<p>She took his strong, wicked face between her young hands, and +bending over kissed him on the forehead. Then she drew back, +flaming.</p> +<p>The legless man was touched. "Why?" he asked.</p> +<p>"I don't know. It just came to me," she said. "God knows I +didn't want it to. I guess that's all"</p> +<p>Rose found it hard to control her jumping nerves. A curious +thing had happened to her. Having at last wormed her way into the +master's confidence, and brought a long piece of play-acting to a +successful conclusion, a certain candor and frankness which were +natural to her made the thought of divulging what she had already +found out, and whatever he might confide to her in the future, +exceedingly repugnant. And she acknowledged with a shiver of revolt +that the creature's fascination for her was not altogether a matter +of make-believe. She was going to find it very hard to keep a +proper perspective and point of view; to continue to regard him as +just another "case" and all in the day's work.</p> +<p>"In my house," he said, "you shall do as you please. You're a +dear girl, Rose,"</p> +<p>"I feel at home in your house," she said, "and happy."</p> +<p>A cloud gathered in Blizzard's face. "Happiness!" he exclaimed. +"There is no such thing--neither for you, nor for me. The world is +a torture-chamber, and remember, Rose, we are to be allies; we are +to have no secrets from each other."</p> +<p>She shrugged her shoulders. "That was what you said," she +complained. "But have you really shown me any confidence?"</p> +<p>He smiled as upon a wayward child. "You shall know everything +that there is to know--when the time comes."</p> +<p>She pouted.</p> +<p>"And what, by the way," he went on, "have <i>you</i> told +<i>me</i>?"</p> +<p>"I have told you," she answered with dignity, "my one +secret."</p> +<p>"The way you feel about me?"</p> +<p>She nodded and blushed. It was going to be a hard lie to keep +telling.</p> +<p>"And you've no other secret? Nothing else that you ought to tell +me?"</p> +<p>There was more meaning in his voice than in his words, so that +for a moment Rose was startled. Was it possible that the man +suspected her, and was playing with her as a cat plays with a +mouse?</p> +<p>"What else could I possibly have to tell you of any +importance?"</p> +<p>"I was joking," said the beggar.</p> +<p>Rose sat at the window of her room looking upward into a night +of stars. She could not sleep. Twice she had heard the legless man +pass her door upon his crutches. Each time he had hesitated, and +once, or so she thought, he had laid his hand upon the door-knob. +She wondered how much of her wakefulness was due to fright; and how +much to the excitement of being well launched upon a case of +tremendous importance, for the secret service knew that Blizzard +was engaged upon a colossal plot of some sort, and just what that +was Rose had volunteered, at the risk of her life, and of her +honor, to find out.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="XII"></a>XII</h2> +<br> +<p>The next morning, at the appointed hour, Blizzard climbed the +stairs to Barbara's studio, knocked, and was admitted. That he was +welcome, if only for his head's sake, was at once evident.</p> +<p>"Something told me that <i>you</i> wouldn't fail me," said +Barbara.</p> +<p>"You can be quite easy about that," said Blizzard. "I am in the +habit of keeping my word."</p> +<p>He climbed to the model's platform and seated himself as upon +the previous morning, with a kind of business-like directness.</p> +<p>"Ready when you are," he said.</p> +<p>Barbara withdrew the damp cloths from the clay, looked +critically from the bust to the original and back again. "My work," +she said, "still looks right to me. But you don't."</p> +<p>Blizzard smiled.</p> +<p>"Yesterday," she said, "you looked as if you were suffering +like," she laughed, "like the very devil. To-day you look well fed +and contented. Now that won't do. Try to remember what you were +thinking about when I first saw you."</p> +<p>At once, as a fresh slide is placed in a magic-lantern, the +legless man's expression of well-being vanished, and that dark +tortured look of Satan fallen which had so fired Barbara's +imagination, once more possessed his features. Barbara's eyes +flashed with satisfaction.</p> +<p>"It wasn't hard for you to remember what you were thinking +about, was it?" she said.</p> +<p>"It was not," said Blizzard, and his voice was cold as a +well-curb. "When I first saw you, I was thinking thoughts that can +never be forgotten."</p> +<p>"Lift your chin, please," she said, "just a fraction. So. Turn +your head a fraction more toward me. Good. And please don't think +of anything pleasant until I tell you. Anybody can make an exact +copy of a head. Expressions are the things that only lucky people +can catch."</p> +<p>"I believe you are one of them," said Blizzard. "I believe you +will catch mine--if you keep on wanting to."</p> +<p>"I must," she said simply.</p> +<p>And then for half an hour there was no sound in the studio but +the long-drawn breathing of the legless man. Barbara worked in a +kind of grim, exalted silence.</p> +<p>Meanwhile Bubbles was climbing the back stair to his bedroom, +where he had left Harry, the secret-service agent, on guard over +Barbara. The boy, all out of breath with haste, opened his right +fist and disclosed a narrow slip of paper with writing on it.</p> +<p>"The minute <i>he</i> came out of his burrow and started +uptown," said Bubbles, "and was out o' sight, I begun to spin my +top up and down Marrow Lane. Rose she's moved upstairs, like she +said she would."</p> +<p>Harry's eyes sparkled with interest and approbation. "Good +girl!" he said.</p> +<p>"I seen her," Bubbles went on, "at an upper window, and when she +seed me, she winked both eyes, like as if the sun was too bright +for 'em. I winked the same way, and then she lets the paper +drop."</p> +<p>Harry took the paper out of the boy's hand, and read: "Nothing +done, much doing."</p> +<p>"She's a grand one," said Bubbles. "If he ever gets wise to her, +he'll tear her to pieces."</p> +<p>"I'm not worrying about Rose--yet," said Harry. "She knows what +she's up against, and she can pull a gun quicker than I can. We +used to play getting the drop on each other by the hour."</p> +<p>"What for?" asked Bubbles, always interested in the smallest +details of sporting propositions.</p> +<p>"Poker-chips," said Harry, and Bubbles looked his disgust. There +was a minute's silence, then:</p> +<p>"Harry," said Bubbles, "what do <i>you</i> think he's up +to?"</p> +<p>"By George," said Harry, "I can't make out. What do <i>you</i> +think?"</p> +<p>Bubbles's sensitive mouth quivered eagerly. "You tell me," he +said, "what he's making hats for--he don't sell 'em--and I'll tell +you what he's up to."</p> +<p>"Some of the labor leaders in the West are mixed up in it," said +Harry; "we <i>know</i> that."</p> +<p>"Labor leaders, Harry!" The small boy's face was comic with +scorn and facetiousness.</p> +<p>"You know the ones I mean, Bub. Not the men who lead +labor--that's only what they call themselves; but the men who +betray labor for their own pockets, the men who find dynamite for +half-witted fanatics to set off. The men--" He broke short off, and +listened. "Better butt in to the studio, Bub, and see what's +doing,"</p> +<p>"Did you think you heard something?"</p> +<p>"I know that I haven't heard anything for half an hour."</p> +<p>In a few minutes Bubbles returned. "He's just sitting there with +a hell of a face on him," he said, "and she's working like a +dynamo."</p> +<br> +<a name="page098-099.jpg"></a> +<p class="ctr"><img src="images/page098-099.jpg" width="100%" alt= +""><br> +<b>In a few minutes Bubbles returned. "He's just sitting there with +a hell of a face on him,"<br> +he said, "and she's working like a dynamo".</b></p> +<br> +<p>And although Barbara actually was working with great speed and +gratitude, the entrance of the small boy had seemed to disturb the +train of her inspiration. Somewhere in the back of her head +appeared to be some brain-cells quite detached from the important +matter in hand, and to these was conveyed the fact that a door-knob +had been turned, and at once they began to busy themselves upon the +suggestion. Something like this: door-knobs--old door-knobs--new +glass door-knobs--man to put on new glass door-knobs--wonderfully +prepossessing man--name Harry--charming name. Harry--charming +smile--wonder if anybody'll ever see him again.</p> +<p>Gradually other cells in Barbara's brain took up the business, +until presently she was entirely occupied with unasked, and +unwelcome, and altogether pleasant thoughts of the young +secret-service agent. It was almost as if he laid his hand on her +shoulder, and said: "You've worked long enough on this dreadful +beggar--come with me for a holiday."</p> +<p>Twice, sternly, she endeavored to go on with her work, and could +not. Something of the May-weather message, that all is futile +except life, had filtered into her blood. Her hands dropped to her +sides, and her face, very rosy, became so wonderfully beautiful +that Blizzard almost groaned aloud. Something told him that his +morning was over, his morning filled with the happiness of +propinquity and stolen looks, with the happiness that is half +spiritual and half gloating.</p> +<p>"Thank you," said Barbara, "ever so much. I sha'n't do any more +to-day. I'm not fit. But we have gotten on. Want to look?"</p> +<p>She turned the revolving-table so that Blizzard could look upon +his likeness. And you may be sure that he did not lose the +opportunity thus presented. He regarded the clay steadily, for a +long time, without speaking. Then he drew one very long breath, and +the expression upon his face softened.</p> +<p>"That man," he said, "has had a hard life, Miss Ferris. It is +all written in his face. When he was a little boy, he was the +victim of a mistake so atrocious, so wicked, that the blood in his +body turned to gall, and all his powers of loving turned to hatred. +Instead of facing disaster like a man, he turned from it, and +fled--down--down--down, and fell down--down--grappling with all +that he could reach that was good or beautiful, and dragging it +down with him--to destruction--to the pit--to hell on earth. And +then he lived a long time, pampering all that was base in him, +prospering materially, recognizing no moral law. He was contented +with his choice--happy as a well-fed dog is happy in a warm corner. +And then the inevitable happened. An idea came to him, a dream of +peace and beauty, of well-doing and happiness. But that chance was +torture, since, if he was to live it, he must undo the evil that he +had done, unthink the thoughts that had been meat and drink to him, +and he must get back to where he was before he fell."</p> +<p>He paused, and extending his right forefinger pointed at the +bust of himself and exclaimed:</p> +<p>"That man--there--that you've made in my image--line for +line--torture for torture, must go on living in the hell which he +has prepared with his own perverted mind. He can never get back. It +is too late--too late--too late!"</p> +<p>His voice rose to a kind of restrained fury. The room shook with +its strong vibrations.</p> +<p>Then he turned to Barbara, smiled, all of a sudden, gayly, +almost genuinely, and said in a voice of humble gallantry:</p> +<p>"But I've done you a good turn. If you never proved it before, +you're proving these days that you are a heaven-born genius."</p> +<p>A harder-headed girl than Barbara must have been pleased and +beguiled. She blushed, and laughed. "I've only one thing to wish +for," she said.</p> +<p>"What is that?"</p> +<p>"I wish," she said, "that you were the greatest art critic in +the world."</p> +<p>He leaned forward, and in a confidential whisper: "A secret," +said he, "between us two. I am."</p> +<p>Then they both laughed, and the beggar, not without reluctance, +climbed down from the platform. Swift and easy as were his motions, +he appeared to terrible disadvantage, and he knew it. So did +Barbara, who a moment before had been on the point of really liking +him. She steeled herself against the sudden disgust which she could +not help feeling, and smiled at him in a steady, friendly way.</p> +<p>"To-morrow?" she said.</p> +<p>"To-morrow."</p> +<p>"At the same time, please. Good-by, and good luck to you."</p> +<p>"Good luck to <i>you</i>, Miss Ferris." And he was gone.</p> +<p>Barbara, opening the door into the next room, surprised a sound +of voices. They ceased instantly.</p> +<p>"Bubbles," she called.</p> +<p>He came, looking a trifle guilty.</p> +<p>"Who's that with you?"</p> +<p>"Harry," he said simply.</p> +<p>"The man who was here before?"</p> +<p>"Yes, Miss Barbara."</p> +<p>"What's he doing in my rooms?"</p> +<p>"He was just sitting, and chinning," said Bubbles.</p> +<p>Miss Ferris was displeased. "Tell him," she said, "that I can't +have my apartment turned into a Young Men's Club."</p> +<p>"Yes, miss."</p> +<p>Bubbles retired, reluctantly, with the message, only to return +in a moment.</p> +<p>"He says will you let him speak to you a moment, please."</p> +<p>She hesitated. And then, "Yes," she said. "I suppose he wishes +to apologize."</p> +<p>He was even more charming-looking than the memory of him. She +made an effort to look a little displeased, and a little +unfriendly. She failed, because the May-weather message had gotten +into her blood, and because certain forces of which as yet she knew +little had established connecting links between herself and the +young secret-service agent.</p> +<p>"I am going to scold you," said Barbara. "Bubbles has his work +to do."</p> +<p>"But I was helping him with it."</p> +<p>"He said you were just sitting and--and chinning."</p> +<p>"When we had finished working."</p> +<p>"Have you been here long?"</p> +<p>The young man looked her steadily in the face, and said gravely: +"Ever since Blizzard came."</p> +<p>Barbara lifted her chin a little. "I am quite able to take care +of myself," she said.</p> +<p>He shook his head sadly.</p> +<p>"Do you make it your business"--she had succeeded in making +herself angry--"to keep an eye on all young women whom you fancy +unable to take care of themselves?"</p> +<p>"I only wish to God I could," he said earnestly. "But of course +it's impossible. So I just do the best I can."</p> +<p>"And why have you chosen me? Surely others are even <i>more</i> +helpless than I am." She managed to convey a good deal of scorn. +"Why," she continued, "must I be the particular creature singled +out for your chivalrous notice?"</p> +<p>"I don't know," he said simply.</p> +<p>All the anger went out of Barbara, and a delicious little thrill +passed through her from head to foot, leaving in its wake a clear +rosy coloring.</p> +<p>"Bubbles," said the young man, "would die for you; but he is +only a little boy. I am very strong."</p> +<p>Barbara refused to rise at the implication that the strong young +man was also ready and even eager to die for her. "Tell me more +about Blizzard," she said.</p> +<p>"He's one of the half-dozen men in the city that we would like +to have an eye on night and day. We want him."</p> +<p>"Oh," she said, "then you are not here entirely on my account? +It is also your business to be here?"</p> +<p>He nodded, not altogether pleased with the turn the matter had +taken.</p> +<p>"In that case," she said, "I have no wish to stand in your way. +But--I don't propose to be a cat's-paw. You may sit in Bubbles's +room if you like, but I won't have you on your hands and knees at +the studio door listening at the key-hole. That must be +understood."</p> +<p>The young man flushed with righteous anger. "You don't +<i>look</i>" he said, "as if you could say a thing like that to a +fellow."</p> +<p>Instantly, and almost humbly, she begged his pardon.</p> +<p>"Then I may come to-morrow?" he asked.</p> +<p>"And the next day," said Barbara. "And, by the way, what is your +name?"</p> +<p>"Harry," he said.</p> +<p>"Harry what?"</p> +<p>A look very much like pathos came into his handsome eyes. "I +want to be honest with you," he said. "I don't own any other name. +I call myself West. But I've no right to it. I don't know who my +father was or what he was."</p> +<p>"You don't have to explain," said Barbara. "I think you would +have been quite within your rights in saying that your name was +West and letting it go at that."</p> +<p>It was not her intention to receive Mr. West's confidences +either at this time or any other. And so, of course, ten minutes +later, as she drove uptown, she was "dying" to know all that there +was to be known about him. He had gone downstairs with her, and put +her into her cab. He might have been a prince with a passion for +good manners. He seemed to her wonderfully graceful and at ease, in +all that he did.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="XIII"></a>XIII</h2> +<br> +<p>Dr. Ferris smiled tolerantly, and said to the footman who had +brought the card: "I shall be very glad to see Mr. Allen." And he +kept on smiling after the footman had gone. The interview which he +foresaw was of that kind which not only did him honor but amused +him. Wilmot Allen would not be the first young man to whom the rich +surgeon had had the pleasure of putting embarrassing questions: +"What can you tell me of your past life and habits?" "Can you +support my daughter in the way to which she has always been +accustomed?" etc., etc.</p> +<p>But Wilmot Allen did not at once ask permission to address +Barbara. He entered with that good-natured air of easy laziness +which was rather attractive in him, and without looking in the +least troubled announced that what he had come to say embarrassed +him greatly.</p> +<p>"And furthermore," he said, "if Barbara hears of it, she'll be +furious. She would take the natural and even correct point of view +that it's none of my business, and she would select one of the +thousand ruthless and brutal methods which young women have at +their disposition for the disciplining of young men. So, please, +will you consider my visit professional and, if you like," he +grinned mischievously, "charge me the regular fee for +consultation?"</p> +<p>Dr. Ferris laughed. "I shall be delighted to play father +confessor," he said, "if you'll sit down, and smoke a cigar."</p> +<p>Mr. Allen would. He lighted one of Dr. Ferris's cigars with the +care due to a thing of value, settled himself in a deep chair, and +appeared by slightly pausing to be gathering scattered thoughts +into a focus.</p> +<p>"Yes," he said at last, "there's no doubt about it. I am about +to be very impertinent. If you like you shall turn me out of your +house, with or without kicks, as seems best to you. Barbara needs a +nurse, and it seems to me you ought to know it; because in a way +it's a reflection on you."</p> +<p>"Quite so," said Dr. Ferris. "I am not at all pleased with +Barbara. What has she done?"</p> +<p>"Do you suppose it would be possible to get her interested in +anything besides this sculpture business--before it's too +late?"</p> +<p>"Too late?"</p> +<p>"Before she gets a taste of success."</p> +<p>"But will she--ever?"</p> +<p>Wilmot Allen nodded eagerly. "She will," he said. "She is doing +a head. It's far from finished; but even now, in the rough state, +it's quite the most exceptional inspired thing you ever saw. She +will exhibit it and become famous overnight. I can't bet much--as +you may perhaps suspect--but I'll bet all I've got. And of course, +once she gets recognition and everybody begins to kow-tow to +her--why, good-by, Barbara."</p> +<p>"Still," said Dr. Ferris, "if she's developing a real talent, I +don't know that I ought to stand in her way. And, besides, we've +fought that all out, and," he laughed grimly, "I took my licking +like a man."</p> +<p>"Of course," said Allen. "When a girl that ought to go in for +marriage and that sort of thing takes to being talented--I call it +a tragedy. But, passing that, the model for the head she's doing +isn't a proper person. That's what I'm driving at. He's one of the +wickedest and most unscrupulous persons in the world. Barbara ought +not to speak to him, let alone give him the run of her studio and +hobnob with him same as with one of her friends. He's a man too +busy with villainy to sit as a model for the fun of sitting. The +pay doesn't interest him. And if he shows up every morning at nine +and stays all morning, it's only because he's got an axe to grind. +He talks. He lays down the law. He appeals to Barbara's mind and +imagination; and it's all rather horrible--one of those poison +snakes that look like an old rubber boot, and a bird all +prettiness, bright colors, innocence, and admiration of how the +world is made. Look at it in this way. She makes a great hit with +the bust. Who's responsible? Well, the creature that supplied the +inspiration, largely. She'll feel gratitude. He'll take advantage +of anything that comes his way. And frankly, Dr. Ferris, I may be +making a mountain out of a mole-hill, but I'm worried to death. +Suppose I told you that, say, Duane Carter spent hours every day in +Barbara's studio?"</p> +<p>Dr. Ferris jumped to his feet, white with anger. "Do you mean to +tell me that my daughter is friendly with that person?"</p> +<p>"Oh, no," said Allen calmly. "I think Barbara's new friend is a +very much more dangerous person for her to know. Whatever Duane +Carter is he wouldn't dare. This other man--"</p> +<p>"Look here, Wilmot"--Dr. Ferris began to pace the room in +considerable agitation--"you're an old friend of Barbara's. Is +friendliness at the root of your worry, or is it some other +feeling, not so disinterested as friendship?"</p> +<p>Wilmot Allen rose to his full height, and Dr. Ferris paused in +his pacings. They faced each other.</p> +<p>"If I was any good," said the young man slowly, "if I had any +money, if Barbara would have me, I'd marry her to-morrow. But I'm +not any good--never was. I haven't any money, hardly ever have had, +and Barbara would no more have me of her own free will than she'd +take a hammer and smash the bust she's making. So much for motives. +Have I disposed of jealousy?"</p> +<p>Dr. Ferris nodded.</p> +<p>"The man," said Allen, "isn't a man. He's a gutter-dog, a +gargoyle, half a man. And his position in the city--in the whole +country, I think--is so fortified that with the best will in the +world the law cannot touch him. Duane Carter--well, he's been a gay +boy with the ladies--a bad man if you like--but at least he is not +accused by gossip of murder, arson, abduction, and crimes +infinitely worse than these. He may have beguiled women, but at +least his worst enemy would never suppose that he had trafficked in +them. Barbara's model is all the things that you can imagine. And +all of them are written in his horrible face. To see them together, +friendly, reparteeing, chummy, would turn your stomach--Barbara so +exquisite and high-born, and the man, his eyes full of evil fires, +sitting like a great toad on the model's chair. And at that--good +God, you might stand it, if he was a whole man! But he isn't. It's +horrible! He has no legs--and you want to stamp on him till he's +dead."</p> +<p>Dr. Ferris had turned white as a sheet. "To me," he said +quietly, "that is the most horrible form of mutilation. I can't +tell you why. It is so. And you will believe that in my practice I +have encountered all sorts. But who is he?"</p> +<p>"He's a man named Blizzard--he passes for a beggar, grinds an +organ, sells shoe-laces and that sort of thing. As a matter of +fact, he's very well off, if not rich. Why don't you visit +Barbara's studio to-morrow, look things over, and put a stop to it? +You can say things to Barbara that I can't, that no young man can +say to a girl. Go as far as you like. Whatever you tell her about +him will be true even if you can't prove it. You can make her see +what thin ice she's skating on. Or if you can't nobody can."</p> +<p>"I'll go to the studio to-morrow," said the surgeon. "I am very +much disturbed by what you have told me: the more so because as a +physician I have learned how many impossible things are true. Have +you told me all you wish to? Or is there more? Do you think," he +spoke very steadily, "that Barbara <i>cares</i> for this beast? +Such things happen in the world, I know."</p> +<p>"God forbid," said Allen, "but I think he has a sort of +fascination for her, and that she doesn't realize it. You'll let +your visit appear casual and accidental, won't you? You won't let +Barbara suspect that I had anything to do with it?"</p> +<p>Dr. Ferris promised, and the two parted with mutual good-will; +but neither the next morning, nor the morning after that, was Dr. +Ferris at liberty to pay a visit to Barbara in her studio. +Nominally retired from active practice, and devoting whatever of +life should remain to surgical experimentation and theory, the +sudden and acute jeopardy of an old friend caused him to put all +other considerations aside for the time being, and once more to don +the white harness of his profession. For two days Dr. Ferris hardly +left his friend's side; on the morning of the third day, quite worn +out, his jumping nerves soothed by a small dose of morphine, he +called a taxicab, gave Barbara's number in McBurney Place, leaned +back against the leather cushions, relaxed his muscles, and fell +asleep.</p> +<p>The taxicab and the legless man reached the curb in front of +Barbara's studio at the same moment. The driver of the cab lifted +one finger to his hat. The legless man nodded, and peering into the +cab recognized the handsome features of the sleeping doctor. He +smiled, and said to the driver:</p> +<p>"Take him back to his house."</p> +<p>The driver said: "If I do he'll enter a complaint."</p> +<p>"No," said the legless man; "you will tell him when he wakes +that he gave you the order himself. He won't know whether he did or +not. So-long."</p> +<p>The driver once more lifted one finger to his hat and obediently +drove off.</p> +<p>It was very silent in McBurney Place; the double row of ancient +stables made over into studio-buildings appeared deserted. The +legless man could not but flatter himself that his actions had been +unobserved. He chuckled, and with even more than his usual deft +alacrity climbed the stairs to Barbara's studio.</p> +<p>Meanwhile, however, a young man and a small boy, looking through +the curtains of the latter's bedroom window, had been witnesses of +all that passed.</p> +<p>"That was Miss Barbara's father in the taxi," said Harry +West.</p> +<p>"Looks like he'd been out all night," said Bubbles.</p> +<p>"He may have been drugged."</p> +<p>"Doubt it. The taxi turned north at the corner. If the ole 'un +had had the doctor drugged o' purpose he'd 'a' sent him south where +he could use him. I guess he's sent him home."</p> +<p>"He doesn't want his morning with Miss Barbara interrupted."</p> +<p>Harry West sighed and said: "I don't smoke, Bub. Give me a +cigarette."</p> +<p>Bubbles accommodated his friend with eagerness.</p> +<p>"And now," said West, "the road's clear to Marrow Lane; better +slip down and see if Rose has any word for us. I'll keep a good ear +on Blizzard."</p> +<p>Bubbles changed from his buttons to his street-jacket, and +departed by the back stairs. Harry West took a small automatic +pistol from his breast pocket and played with it, but in the +expression of the young man's face was nothing bellicose or +threatening; only a kind of gentle, patient misery.</p> +<p>He passed fifteen minutes in taking quick aims with the little +automatic pistol at the roses on the wall-paper. Short of actual +target-practice, he knew by experience that this was the best way +to keep the hand and eye in touch with each other. He let his +thoughts run as they would. And presently he heard the sound of +Bubbles's feet upon the back stairs.</p> +<p>"All serene here," said West.</p> +<p>"All serene there," said Bubbles, and he produced a slip of +paper upon which Rose had written:</p> +<p>"Don't come so often. You've been noticed. He'll tell me things +before long--or wring my neck."</p> +<p>"She worked her hands some," said Bubbles, and he made letters +of the deaf and dumb alphabet upon his fingers. "She said O'Hagan's +in the city. They had him to eat with them last night. He's growed +a beard, and trained off twenty pounds, so's not to be knowed."</p> +<p>The air of revery had left Harry West. "O'Hagan in the East!" he +exclaimed, rather with exhilaration than excitement. "Things are +coming to a head."</p> +<p>"Yep," said Bubbles, "and we don't know what things is--"</p> +<p>"Bubbles! Oh, Bubbles!"</p> +<p>The boy disappeared in the direction of the studio.</p> +<p>"Mr. Blizzard has gone," said Barbara. "Ask Mr. West if he will +speak to me a moment."</p> +<p>Mr. West would; and he, the athlete, the man of trained poise, +actually overturned a chair in his willingness.</p> +<p>"Mr. West," she said, "you know all sorts of things about +people, don't you? And if you don't know them, you can find them +out, can't you?"</p> +<p>"Sometimes, Miss Barbara."</p> +<p>"I want to know about the man who comes here to pose--not vague +things, but facts; who his people were, what turned him against the +world."</p> +<p>"You're troubled, Miss Barbara?"</p> +<p>"I am terribly troubled. He has told me a terrible story. But +how do I know if it's true or not? If it's true, he ought not to be +hounded and hunted, Mr. West; he ought to be pitied."</p> +<p>"Then I'm sure it's not true," West smiled quietly. "What did he +tell you?"</p> +<p>"No matter. But will you find out what you can about him?"</p> +<p>"Why, yes, of course. But believe me, it's not his beginnings +that are of importance. It's his subsequent achievements and his +schemes for the future."</p> +<p>"Another thing," she said, "I'm sure he means no harm where I'm +concerned. He has never known that I have a protector within call, +and yet his whole attitude toward me has been gentle, humorous, and +even chivalrous. I think," and the color came into her cheeks, +"that he feels a fatherly sort of affection for me. So thank you +for all the trouble you've taken."</p> +<p>"I, too, have reason to think that he means no harm," said West, +"and if that is true, I am wasting my time."</p> +<p>There was a look of bitterness in his eyes that was not lost +upon Barbara. And she was troubled.</p> +<p>"Of course," she said, "if you <i>like</i> to waste your +time--"</p> +<p>He looked her straight in the eyes. "I do," he said, "I love to. +No man's life would ever be complete if he didn't waste the best +part of it--throw it away on something or other--on an ambition--on +an ideal--on a woman."</p> +<p>Barbara returned his glance. "Just what, Mr. West," she said, +"is the idea?"</p> +<p>And here, Mr. Harry West might have found the sudden courage to +speak out what was in his heart, had he not remembered that to all +intents and purposes he had no father, and consequently in the eyes +of the great world to which Barbara belonged could not be +considered to have any existence.</p> +<p>"Oh," he said, "I was just talking through my hat."</p> +<p>Barbara, who, you may say, had been unconsciously putting out +tentacles of affection toward Harry West, at once withdrew them, +and said coolly: "So I supposed."</p> +<p>"May I look at the bust?"</p> +<p>"Certainly."</p> +<p>She removed the damp cloths from her work, and Harry found +himself looking into the legless man's face. The features at once +attracted and repelled him, and these sensations mingled with them +feelings of wonder. Some subconscious knowledge told the young man +authoritatively that he was looking on a master work. Barbara +noticed this, and her heart warmed, and her pride was +gratified.</p> +<p>"I'm going to hurt your feelings," she said.</p> +<p>"Mine? Don't. Please don't."</p> +<p>"If you," she said, "devoted the next twenty years of your life +to wickedness and vengeful thoughts you would get to look like my +friend, Mr. Blizzard."</p> +<p>Now that same thought had occurred, and not for the first time, +to Harry West, but he did not care to admit it. So he laughed +gently, and said:</p> +<p>"In that case I shall devote the next twenty years of my life to +philanthropy and--loving thoughts."</p> +<p>He turned toward her, all smiling. And she avoided his eyes +without appearing to do so.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="XIV"></a>XIV</h2> +<br> +<p>The next morning Blizzard was fifteen minutes late to his +appointment with Barbara. He had sat up all night with O'Hagan, +talking energetically, and for once in his life he felt tired. To +this feeling was added the fear--almost ridiculous under the +circumstances--that Barbara would scold him for being late. +Unscrupulous brute that he was, his infatuation for her was +humanizing him. And in the whole world he dreaded nothing so much, +at this time, as a look of displeasure in a girl's face.</p> +<p>He had left off the threadbare clothes in which he usually went +begging, and had attired himself in clean linen and immaculate gray +broadcloth. His face was exquisitely shaved; his nails trimmed and +clean. And there hung about him a faint odor of violets. In short, +the male of the species had begun to change his plumage, as is +customary in the spring of the year.</p> +<p>His mouth full of apology, he hurried up the stairs to the +studio, only to find that Barbara herself had not yet arrived. Upon +the seat of the chair in which he always posed, the legless man +perceived an envelope addressed to himself. This contained a short +note:</p> +<blockquote>DEAR MR. BLIZZARD:<br> +<br> +I can't be at the studio till eleven. Please find somewhere about +you the kindness to wait, or at least to come again at that time. +You will greatly oblige,<br> +<br> +Yours sincerely,<br> +<br> +BARBARA FERRIS.</blockquote> +<br> +<p>Blizzard read his note three times; it was very friendly. The +"Yours sincerely" touched his imagination. Especially the +"Yours."</p> +<p>"Yours," he said, "mine," and with a sudden idiocy of passion he +crushed the note to his lips. And then, as if with remorse at +having been rough with a helpless thing, he smoothed out the +crumpled sheet, and placed it, together with its envelope, in that +pocket which was nearest to his heart. Then he seated himself on +the edge of the model's platform, laid his crutches aside, closed +his eyes, and for perhaps five minutes slept, motionless as a +statue, except that now and then his ears twitched. At the end of +five minutes, he waked, greatly refreshed, and ready, if the need +should arise, to sit up the whole of the following night.</p> +<p>There was a sound of a man's steps mounting the stairs. And then +a brisk knocking on the studio door.</p> +<p>"Come in," said Blizzard.</p> +<p>Dr. Ferris entered, hesitated, and then closed the door behind +him.</p> +<p>"You'll pardon me," said Blizzard coolly, "if I don't get +up?"</p> +<p>"Yes--yes," said Dr. Ferris, and in his handsome eyes was a look +of pain and pity.</p> +<p>"It isn't easy for me to get up," Blizzard continued in the same +cool, emotionless voice, "you can see for yourself. I can't spring +to my feet--like other men. Do you know who I am?"</p> +<p>"Yes," said Dr. Ferris, "I'm afraid I do. But they told me the +name of the man who has been posing for Miss Ferris was Blizzard. +Your name--"</p> +<p>"My name," said Blizzard, "is forgotten."</p> +<p>Dr. Ferris bowed gravely. "Quite so, Mr. Blizzard," he said.</p> +<p>"Miss Barbara," said Blizzard, watching closely the effect upon +the older man of the familiarity, "will not be here till eleven. +And as you and I cannot possibly have anything pleasant to say to +each other, and as you, although the older man, are far better off +than I am for means of locomotion, and as even <i>thinking</i> of +you has something the effect upon my stomach that mustard and warm +water would have--"</p> +<p>"If you have any mercy in your heart," said Dr. Ferris, his +mouth distorted with emotion, "don't talk to me that way. What made +a hell of your life has made a hell of mine."</p> +<p>The look of cold hatred in Blizzard's face changed at once to +curiosity. "Really?" he said; "you mean that?"</p> +<p>"It is the truth."</p> +<p>Blizzard considered, and then shook his head. "No," he said, "it +couldn't be the same. It may have stretched you on the hot grid now +and then, but between times of remorse you've had long, long +stretches of success and happiness. I haven't. I have burned in +hell fires from that day to this."</p> +<p>"I told you on that day," said the surgeon, "that if there was +ever anything under heaven that I could do for you, I would do it. +You've never called upon me for anything--money--or service."</p> +<p>"I've not forgotten," said Blizzard, "and some day I may hold +you to your word. Right here and now I will ask something of +you--an absolutely truthful answer to a question. Do you hate +me?"</p> +<p>Dr. Ferris turned the question over in his conscience, and +presently said: "I am sorry. Yes."</p> +<p>"Thank you," said Blizzard, who was not in the least disturbed. +"I've often wondered, and even, putting a hypothetical case, +thrashed the matter out with my friends. You <i>would</i> hate me. +It's thoroughly human. With me, for instance--I feel non-committal +about a man. I decide to injure him. I do so. <i>And then</i> I +hate him. Now, if you have any message for Miss Barbara--or perhaps +you came to see the bust. I will call Bubbles. He and Miss Barbara +are the only persons allowed to touch the cloths. I think she'd let +me uncover the thing, but, as you and I know so well, I am not tall +enough."</p> +<p>"My business with my daughter," said Dr. Ferris, "concerned +you."</p> +<p>Blizzard chuckled. "Her friends," said he, "have been at you to +interfere. They have persuaded you that her model should be +<i>persona non grata</i> in the best studios. They have, in short, +begged you to take me by the scruff of the neck and kick me out +into the gutter where I belong. Well, kick me. You know as well as +I do, that I can't kick back."</p> +<p>"You hurt me very much," said Dr. Ferris simply, "if that is any +pleasure to you."</p> +<p>"It is," said Blizzard.</p> +<p>"What your intuition has told you," continued Barbara's father, +"is the truth. I had made up my mind to interfere."</p> +<p>"Well, why should you?"</p> +<p>"I have heard terrible things about you, Mr. Blizzard."</p> +<p>"That I have done things which the world regards as terrible is +true," returned the legless man imperturbably. "What of it? Haven't +you?"</p> +<p>Dr. Ferris turned away and slowly paced the length of the studio +and back. "I owe you," he then said, "anything you choose to ask. +But that is not the whole of my obligation to this world as I see +it."</p> +<p>"You will oblige me," said Blizzard, "by spitting out the moral +homily into which you are trying to get your teeth. It is very +simple. I do not wish to be sent away. I ask you not to send me. If +your statement that you owe me anything I choose to ask amounts to +two pins' worth, I think that I shall continue to pose for your +daughter as long as she needs me."</p> +<p>"Oh, I'm quite helpless," said Dr. Ferris; "I realize that."</p> +<p>"Spoken like a man," said Blizzard. "And to show that my nature +isn't entirely cruel, I'll tell you for your comfort that in Miss +Barbara's presence the bad man is a very decent sort. We are almost +friends, Doctor, she and I. She talks to me as if I were her equal. +As for me, in this studio I have learned the habit of innocent +thought. Only yesterday I took pleasure in the idea that in the +world there are birds, and flowers, and green fields."</p> +<p>The beggar's eyes glittered with a sardonic look. He watched the +surgeon as a tiger might watch a stag. There was quite a long +silence. Dr. Ferris broke it.</p> +<p>"For God's sake," he said with great energy, "tell me one truth. +Is it part of your scheme of life to revenge yourself on me through +my daughter?"</p> +<p>Blizzard raised a soothing hand. "Dr. Ferris," he said, "what +would cause you suffering would cause her suffering. So, you see, I +am tied hand and--Pardon me! I shouldn't now think of hurting you +through her unless it might be for her own happiness."</p> +<p>"I don't understand."</p> +<p>"Then you don't understand the hearts of women. Then you know +nothing of the heights to which even fallen men can raise their +eyes."</p> +<p>"What are you telling me?"</p> +<p>"Very little--very much. Perhaps I love your daughter."</p> +<p>Horror and loathing swept into the surgeon's eyes, but he +controlled himself. "Mr. Blizzard," said he presently, "I find it +hard to take you seriously. <i>Are</i> you joking? Whether you are +or not, the thing is a joke. If you really care for my daughter, I +am very, very sorry for you. I can't say more. If nothing worse +threatens her than the possibility of her heart being touched by +you, there is no need for me to be anxious about her. As for +telling her the truth about you and me, why not?"</p> +<p>"<i>You</i> tell her."</p> +<p>"I will. To-night"</p> +<p>"Won't you be playing into my hands?"</p> +<p>"No," said the surgeon curtly, "she has too much +common-sense."</p> +<p>"But you won't tell her what I've said?" The beggar was suddenly +anxious.</p> +<p>"No," and Dr. Ferris smiled, "I may safely leave that to +you."</p> +<p>"Damnation," cried Blizzard, "you are laughing at me."</p> +<p>Dr. Ferris's face became serious at once. "God forbid that!" he +said. "If you have spoken sincerely I feel only sorrow for you and +pity--more sorrow and pity for you even than I ever felt +before."</p> +<p>"S-s-s-s-t," exclaimed the beggar, and his ears twitched. "She's +coming."</p> +<p>"I shall wait," said Dr. Ferris, "and take her uptown, when she +has finished working."</p> +<p>"Well," said Blizzard, with a kind of humorous resignation, "I'd +kick you out if I could; but I can't." And he added: "You haven't +got an extra pair of legs about you, have you?"</p> +<p>"Why!" said Barbara when she saw her father. "Art <i>is</i> +looking up. <i>You</i> in a studio!"</p> +<p>Secretly his presence pleased her immensely. She had always +hoped that some day he would take enough interest in her work to +come to see it uninvited. And she now felt that this had happened. +And she thanked Blizzard with sincerity for having waited.</p> +<p>"Mr. Blizzard and I," she told her father, "are doing a bust. +And whatever anybody else thinks, we think it's an affair of great +importance. Mr. Blizzard even gives me his time and his judgment +for nothing."</p> +<p>"Well," Dr. Ferris smiled, "I am willing to give you the latter, +on the same terms. May I see what you've done?"</p> +<p>Barbara removed the cloths from the bust, and so life-like and +tragic was the face which suddenly confronted him that Dr. Ferris, +instead of stepping forward to examine it closely, stepped backward +as if he had been struck. And then:</p> +<p>"My dear," he said gravely, "the thing's alive."</p> +<p>He looked from the bust to his daughter, and felt as if he was +meeting some very gifted and important person for the first time. +Barbara laughed for sheer pleasure.</p> +<p>"What do you think of it?"</p> +<p>"I will buy it as it stands," said her father, "on your own +terms."</p> +<p>"If you think it's good now," said Blizzard quietly, "wait till +it's finished."</p> +<p>"If I had done it," said Dr. Ferris, "I wouldn't dare touch +it."</p> +<p>"Yes, you would," said Barbara, "if you knew that you could make +it better. It's still a beginning."</p> +<p>"When do you expect to finish?"</p> +<p>"I'm going to keep on working until I know that I've done the +best I can. We may be months on it."</p> +<p>Blizzard smiled secretly, and Dr. Ferris managed to conceal his +annoyance.</p> +<p>"I wish, my dear," he said, "that I had taken you more seriously +in the beginning. But it is not too late to get some advantage by +studying in Paris and Rome."</p> +<p>"I don't believe it's ever too late for that," said Barbara, +"and of course I've always been crazy for the chance, but knowing +how you felt--"</p> +<p>"Say the word," said her father, "and you shall go +to-morrow."</p> +<p>Blizzard's face was like stone; he felt that his high hopes were +on a more precarious footing than ever. If she had the whim, +Barbara would go abroad, far beyond the reach of even his long +arms.</p> +<p>"You could finish your bust any time," said Dr. Ferris +persuasively.</p> +<p>But Barbara shook her head with complete decision. "A bird in +the hand," she said, "is worth two in the bush. And--I hope I'm +wrong--but I have the conviction that this head is going to be the +best thing I shall ever do. I can look at it quite impersonally, +because half the time it seems to model itself. <i>I</i> think it's +going to be good. If it is good, it will be one of those lucky +series of accidents that sometimes happen to undeserving but lucky +people."</p> +<p>Dr. Ferris sighed inwardly, but the expression of his face did +not change. "Do you mind if I stay?" he asked. "I think it's time I +knew what you look like when you are at work, don't you?"</p> +<p>"<i>High</i> time!" exclaimed Barbara. "I'll just get into my +apron." She went into the next room and closed the door.</p> +<p>"Your innocents abroad," said the legless man, "wasn't a +success." His face was a jeer.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="XV"></a>XV</h2> +<br> +<p>"Barbara," said her father when they had finished dinner, "I +made a threat this morning, and I'm going to keep it. If you have +no especial objection, will you come into the library?"</p> +<p>Her face was radiant; he had been praising her work for the +tenth time. "It sounds," she said, "as if I was going to be +whipped. That wasn't what you threatened to do, was it?"</p> +<p>"No," said he. "<i>I'm</i> to be punished. I'm going to tell you +about a mistake of judgment I once made. But not as a warning, or a +moral lesson--merely, my dear, that you and I may learn to know +each other better. First, though, I want to talk to you about your +model."</p> +<p>"He's rather fascinating, don't you think?"</p> +<p>"He is very clever," said her father, "and when he chooses he +can talk very well. He proved that this morning. To me, personally, +he is most repugnant, but I admit that when he once launched out, I +listened as a school-boy listens to stories of treasure and +pirates. He's lived and observed and suffered. There is no doubt +about that. But I shall be greatly relieved to hear that your bust +is finished. I don't like the idea of such a man being in the same +block with you. I hope that you will not feel inspired to do +another head of him."</p> +<p>"He's a splendid model," said Barbara. "Of course this morning +he didn't keep still--and he did talk. But then I wasn't really +working; When I wish he keeps almost as still as the clay I work +with."</p> +<p>"Doesn't looking at him ever give you--oh, a disagreeable creepy +feeling?"</p> +<p>"Not any more. I'm so used to him now. No, I feel a genuine +friendliness for him,"</p> +<p>"I thought," said her father, "that to you artists, models were +absolutely impersonal--just planes and angles and--what was it you +used to say?"</p> +<p>Barbara flushed slightly, remembering a former and very +disagreeable conversation. "Your memory is much too good," she +said.</p> +<p>Dr. Ferris frowned, "I'm not trying to interfere," he said; +"you're old enough to know what's best for you, but if I could +instil in you a proper distaste for your friend, Mr. Blizzard, I +should be delighted. Beauty and the beast do <i>not</i> go well +together."</p> +<br> +<a name="page128-129.jpg"></a> +<p class="ctr"><img src="images/page128-129.jpg" width="100%" alt= +""><br> +<b>Dr. Ferris frowned. "I'm not trying to interfere," he said. +"You're old enough to know what's best for you".</b></p> +<br> +<p>"<i>Please"</i> said Barbara, "don't bother your head about me. +When the bust is finished, you and I go abroad for to look, for to +see, for to learn. That's agreed. We shall not invite Mr. Blizzard +to go with us, and all will be well. There's my hand on it!"</p> +<p>She laughed rosily, and they shook hands.</p> +<p>"Until recently," said Dr. Ferris, "I have taken, as you know, +very little interest in your career as a sculptor. Haven't you +thought that rather an unnatural attitude?"</p> +<p>"Why, yes," said Barbara, "I have."</p> +<p>She took a box of safety matches from a cigar-table, and +kneeling, lighted the fire in the big chimney-piece.</p> +<p>"I hope you don't mind," she said; "I'm shivery."</p> +<p>She knelt on, watching the little flames grow into big flames, +and spreading her hands to the warmth. Her face, arms, throat, and +the front of her white dress became golden. She looked more like +some lovely vestal of fire-worship than an ambitious American girl, +determined to achieve fame in the battleground of the world.</p> +<p>"Why, yes," she repeated, "it has seemed strange to me. When +I've thought that I wanted to do things, you always took a lot of +interest and trouble, but when I <i>knew</i> that I wanted to do +one thing, you gave me a dreadfully cold shoulder." She smiled +whimsically. "I shall do an allegory in bluish-white marble--The +Cold Shoulder."</p> +<p>She retreated a little from the fire, and sat at her father's +feet. He laid his hand on her many-colored hair.</p> +<p>From childhood Barbara had resented parental caresses. On the +present occasion, she felt a sudden tenderness for her father, and +leaned a little against him, in answer to the touch of his +hand.</p> +<p>"Did it ever," said he, "strike you as strange that you never +took any interest in <i>my</i> career?"</p> +<p>"I've always been tremendously proud of you," she said. "You +know that."</p> +<p>"You liked my results," he said, "the show pieces--newspaper +notoriety--speech-making--the races in special trains against +death. But you don't even know what has chiefly interested me +during the last thirty years; nor the goal which I have felt I must +reach before I could be resigned to parting with this life."</p> +<p>"No," she said gently, "I don't. Tell me. I <i>want</i> to be +interested."</p> +<p>"You know, of course, that I experiment with animals."</p> +<p>"Yes. I have seen crates of guinea-pigs and monkeys at the +laboratory door. I'm afraid it always made me a little unhappy. But +I suppose it's the only way to get certain results. And you always +give them something, don't you?"</p> +<p>"Always. They don't suffer more than a man would while healing a +deep clean cut. In other words, they don't suffer at all. And +they're not unhappy, and they don't bear malice. And still I +wouldn't do it, if I could help myself. I think, my dear, that I +have been chosen for my sins to introduce a great benefit to +mankind. It seems now only a question of perfecting the technique. +I've already had extraordinary results."</p> +<p>"What's the idea?"</p> +<p>"You know, of course, that a piece of skin from one man can be +successfully grafted on another man. Well, so can a liver, a +finger, a hand, a foot, an arm, a leg. I have two monkeys now: a +black and a gray. The black monkey has the gray hands and forearms, +the gray monkey has the black. I made the exchange eighteen months +ago. And they have developed the same strength and skill with the +grafted members that they had with their own. I have a monkey who +had only one eye when he came. Now he has two--they aren't a good +color match, but he sees as well with one as the other. When these +ideas are perfected it will be possible, perhaps, to make old +people young. The secret is absolute cleanliness and the accuracy +in joining of a Chippendale or an Adams. So you see," he smiled, +"that in a way you and I are chasing the same ambition--how to +express the thing imagined through perfection of technique."</p> +<p>"Are you the only man working along these lines?"</p> +<p>"Heavens, no! Aristotle probably believed in animal grafting. +But I think that, owing to a natural talent for doing close and +accurate work with my hands, I have gone farther than anybody else. +What gave you the impulse to be a sculptor, Barbs?"</p> +<p>She laughed gayly. "The statues in the Metropolitan that have +lost their arms and heads and legs. I felt very sorry for them. I +was very young and foolish, and I invented a game to play. I'd +select a statue that needed an arm, say, and then I'd hunt among +the other statues for an arm that would fit, or for a head or +whatever else was missing. Through playing that game I got the idea +of making whole statues from the beginning and not bothering with +fragments."</p> +<p>"And to think," said Dr. Ferris, "that we have failed to +understand each other. Why, Barbs, your ambition is a direct lineal +descendant of mine. It was a maimed marble that showed you your +life's work. It was a maimed child that showed me mine. It seems +that at heart we are both menders."</p> +<p>"I began on dolls," said Barbara.</p> +<p>"And I began on guinea-pigs."</p> +<p>A footman entered with whiskey and soda on a tray. Barbara +rose.</p> +<p>"Shall I pour you a drink?"</p> +<p>"A very little one, please."</p> +<p>She poured him his drink, and once more seated herself at his +feet.</p> +<p>"After I graduated from the P. & S.," said Dr. Ferris, "I +did ambulance work for two years, accidents, births, fires. I was +ambitious to learn, and worked myself sick. One morning, after I'd +been all night bringing a most reluctant young Polack into the +world, I was called to the house of a world-famous man in East +Thirty-fourth Street. The house was full of servants mad with grief +and fright. The man and his wife had gone out of town, and their +son, a beautiful boy about ten years old, had got himself run over +by a truck. His governess, I gathered, a German fool, had been in +some way directly responsible. But that is the small end of the +matter. The boy's legs were horribly crushed and mangled. It seemed +to me that if his life was to be saved, they must come off at once. +The family's physician was the famous old Doctor Watson Bell. I +sent for him. He didn't come at once, and when I had waited as long +as I dared, I took upon my own shoulders the very heavy +responsibility of operating. I put the child under ether, and with +the help of one assistant took his legs off just below the +hip-joints. Then Dr. Bell came. He was a very old friend of my +father's, and he had always been very good to me. First he looked +to see that what had been done had been well done. Then he examined +the legs that I had taken off. Then he sent the nurse out of the +room. Then he turned and looked at me, and his face was gray and +cold as a stone. He said: 'You fool! You imbecile!' And he showed +me, clear as a flash of lightning, that the legs never should have +been amputated. Then he said, more gently: 'For your father's sake +I will save your face, young man. I shall set my approval to this +catastrophe. For your father's sake, and for your mother's. I have +always looked on you as an adopted son. Are you drunk?' I told him +that I had been up all night, and had had no sleep since five +o'clock the morning before. He shrugged his shoulders, and said: +'In your right mind, you couldn't have done it,' and I knew that I +couldn't. 'Horrible!' he said, 'horrible! This poor baby to be a +wreck of a thing all his life, because a healthy and hearty young +man cannot get along on a little sleep. But, thank God, the child +will never know that the operation wasn't necessary,'</p> +<p>"By common accord, we turned to look at the little boy. His eyes +were open. He had come out of the ether with miraculous suddenness. +And we saw by the expression of his face that he had heard--and +that he had understood."</p> +<p>Barbara took her father's hand in both hers and pressed it hard. +"Poor old dad," she said.</p> +<p>"Of course," Dr. Ferris went on, "the child told his parents. +But Dr. Bell lied up and down to save my face. He said that what +the child thought he had heard was part of an ether dream. And I +lied. And nobody believed the little boy. I had told him, before +Dr. Bell could stop me--I was hysterical and crazy--that if there +was ever anything under heaven that I could do for him, I would do +it--no matter what it was. And the boy told his parents that I had +said that, but it was only taken by them as evidence that I felt +terribly sorry for what I had had to do, and that I had a tender +heart."</p> +<p>"Poor old dad!" said Barbara. "And what became of the little +boy?"</p> +<p>"He grew vicious," said Dr. Ferris. "I don't blame him. +Quarrelled fearfully with his father, dropped into all sorts of +evil ways and companionship--all my fault, every bit of it--and +finally disappeared completely out of the station to which he had +been born. I had reason until the other day to believe that he was +dead. Then I saw him."</p> +<p>There was quite a long silence. The fire burned brightly. Dr. +Ferris, greatly agitated by tragic memories, closed his eyes very +tightly, as if to shut them out.</p> +<p>"And of course," said Barbara at last, "the small boy is my Mr. +Blizzard. Well, what can we do for him?"</p> +<p>"<i>You</i> owe him nothing," said her father sharply.</p> +<p>"Oh, yes," said Barbara gently, "oh, yes. Your obligations are +mine. I shall tell him. It's like owing a frightful sum of money. +We can't be happy till we've paid up, can we? You and I?"</p> +<p>"It seems," said Dr. Ferris, "that I have made two terrible +mistakes. And the second is having told you about the first. My +God, but this life is hard to bear!"</p> +<p>"But--why--what have I said? If there is <i>anything</i> we can +do for him, we ought to do it."</p> +<p>"Are you going to say that to him?"</p> +<p>"Of course," she said.</p> +<p>"Suppose," said her father, "that in all this world he wanted +only one thing--you?"</p> +<p>This suggestion was most unexpected to Barbara and odious. And +she said coldly: "I hope he is not quite such a fool."</p> +<p>"But if he is?"</p> +<p>"My dear father," said Barbara, "I have been told that somewhere +along the Milky Way there is a bridge between stars. Let's cross +that when we come to it."</p> +<p>A footman entered carrying a large pasteboard box on which, in +gilt letters, was the name of a Third Avenue florist. But the +jonquils in the box were very fresh and lovely. They were, however, +unaccompanied by a card.</p> +<br> +<a name="page134.jpg"></a> +<p class="ctr"><img src="images/page134.jpg" width="50%" alt= +""><br> +<b>"Some unknown person," said Barbara, "has formed the habit of +sending me flowers".</b></p> +<br> +<p>"Some unknown person," said Barbara, "has formed the habit of +sending me flowers." She smiled. "I shall ask my friend, Mr. Harry +West," she said, "to find out who it is."</p> +<p>And then, suddenly, she turned away, so that her father should +not see that she was blushing. The thought, not in the least +disagreeable, had occurred to her for the first time, that perhaps +Mr. Harry West himself was anonymously going down into his pocket +for her sweet sake.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="XVI"></a>XVI</h2> +<br> +<p>The legless man was not in the habit of waiting for things that +he wanted, when the chance to take them had come. And he did not +propose to endure the torture of sitting perfectly still hour after +hour, morning after morning, while any young woman made a bust of +him. Yet he allowed a number of mornings to pass without taking any +definite steps toward the vengeance which he felt to be so dear to +him.</p> +<p>That Barbara was a high-born lady was the chief obstacle in his +plans. If she were to disappear suddenly out of the world which +knew and loved her, there would be raised a hue and outcry greater, +perhaps, than his utmost powers and resources could check. He would +be run to earth without much doubt and put where even the sweet +memory of vengeance would taste bitter in his mouth. It is perhaps +pleasant to pluck the fruits of vengeance, but a man requires time +in which to eat and digest them. If they are snatched from his hand +the moment they are picked, his vengeance fails of all sweetness +and justification.</p> +<p>On the other hand, Blizzard, in order to revenge himself on the +man who had maimed him, was willing to give, if not his liberty, +his life.</p> +<p>If he could not abduct Barbara and go free, he would kill +himself when they came to take him. But he did not wish to kill +himself. He wished to live a long time after, gloating on his +memories. He had also on foot a scheme which, starting almost as a +pleasantry, had developed in his mind, and was still developing, +until its latent possibilities staggered his own imagination.</p> +<p>A certain Jew, proprietor of a pawnshop, was in reality a +receiver of stolen goods. It was common knowledge among certain +crooks in the city, that the recently stolen Bland diamonds had +come into this man's hands. Blizzard thought that it would be funny +to take these diamonds away from the Jew, hold them for a while, +and then, since the fellow was after all a friend, return them. To +break into Reichman's store at night would be dangerous. Reichman +himself was no coward, and he employed a savage night-watchman, +just out of Sing Sing. So Blizzard planned a robbery in a spirit of +farce, and in the broad and crowded light of day.</p> +<p>Six stalwart young fellows entered Reichman's pawnshop at +eleven-thirty in the morning. Each one had a watch or an overcoat +to pawn. They crowded about Reichman, all talking at once. They +were strangers to him. At exactly the same time the attention of +the six policemen on the six nearest beats was attracted by the +drunken and disorderly behavior of six more stalwart young +fellows--one to each policeman. In the end six arrests were made, +the six young drunkards were marched off to the station house, and +the beats of the six policemen were for the time being +deserted.</p> +<p>Sharp at eleven-thirty-seven, five of the six young men in +Reichman's shop flung an overcoat over his head and rushed him into +a dark corner, choking him so that he could not scream. A person in +the street, however, saw the struggle, and rushed off to find the +nearest policeman, who of course could not be found. Meanwhile the +sixth young man ran lightly upstairs, looked under the mattress of +the palatial Reichman bed, where he had been told to look, and +secured the stolen diamonds. The farce came to a proper conclusion. +Reichman could not complain to the police that he had been robbed +of stolen goods. And he went about for many days with a sour +face.</p> +<p>Blizzard came every day to condole with him, and finally to +return the diamonds. Then he told Reichman, a man he could trust, +how the robbery had been worked, and the two put their heads +together.</p> +<p>If six policemen could be so easily put out of commission at a +given moment, why not many? If a pawnshop could be so easily +looted, why not Tiffany's, or one of the great wholesale jewellers +in Maiden Lane? Why not the Sub-Treasury?</p> +<p>In Blizzard's mind the idea became an obsession; and he worked +out schemes, in all their details; only to think of something +bigger and more engaging. One or two details were present in all +his plans: a hiding-place for the treasure when he should get it, +and a large number of lieutenants whom he could trust. He could, he +believed, at the least throw the whole city into a state of chaos +for a few hours--for half a day--for a whole day. And during that +period of lawless confusion anything might happen to anybody--to +Barbara for instance. But his plans were not ripe, nor his trusted +lieutenants as yet sufficient in number. He must therefore either +put off his vengeance indefinitely, or run the risk of having his +own career as a criminal come to a very sudden end. For once in his +life he vacillated. But it was something more than the desire for +vengeance which decided him to risk everything on immediate +action.</p> +<p>His plan was very simple. Sometimes a messenger-boy brought a +note to her studio. And Blizzard had observed that Barbara's +invariable habit with notes was first to read them, and then to +burn them. She never tore them into pieces and threw them into the +fireplace. She struck a match, lighted them at one corner, and saw +to it that they were entirely consumed. When Barbara had finished +with a note, or a circular, or a letter, Sherlock Holmes himself +could not have recovered the contents or the name of the sender. +Banking on this habit, Blizzard wrote Barbara a note and sent it to +her father's house by a man he could trust. She received the note +at six o'clock, while she was resting prior to dressing and dining +out. It read as follows:</p> +<blockquote>81 Marrow Lane.<br> +<br> +DEAR MISS FERRIS:<br> +<br> +My affairs don't seem to be prospering here, so I am going away. I +am sorry the Bust isn't finished. You will be disappointed. I am +leaving at 8 o'clock for the West. I have enjoyed sitting for you. +I wish you all the success and happiness you deserve.<br> +<br> +Very truly yours,<br> +<br> +BLIZZARD.</blockquote> +<br> +<p>Her mind working very rapidly, Barbara rose at once, and quite +unconsciously, so strong was habit in her, struck a match, set the +beggar's note on fire, threw it into the fireplace, and watched it +burn to ashes. On the way to the fireplace she pressed a button to +summon her maid. When this one came, Barbara, already out of her +dressing-gown, spoke imperatively:</p> +<p>"I am going out. I want a taxi called at once. Then come back +and help me dress."</p> +<p>But when the maid returned there was little for her to do. +Barbara was in a hurry.</p> +<p>She found a taxi waiting at the door. She glanced at the +driver--he was not one of those who usually drove her.</p> +<p>"Do you know where Marrow Lane is?"</p> +<p>"Is it near the Brooklyn Bridge, miss?"</p> +<p>"I think so. Marrow Lane, No. 81. You can make inquiries. +Hurry."</p> +<p>The strange driver drove skilfully and swiftly down the avenue. +Two thoughts occupied him: the beauty of his fare, and the docility +with which she came to the master's hand when he called.</p> +<p>In Barbara's mind there was but one thought: not that she was +going to visit a disreputable man in a disreputable part of the +city, but that she was going to keep that man in the city and +finish her bust of him, or know the reason why. Fame was in her +grasp. She felt astonishingly sure of that. She was not going to +let it escape for a mere matter of convention. It had been her +first idea to send Blizzard a note by messenger. But she had more +confidence in her personal powers of persuasion. If her model +needed money or was in some scrape that could be righted by money +and influence, she believed that she could keep him in New +York.</p> +<p>It was not yet dark, but all the city lamps were lighted, and +the East Side had that atmosphere of care-free gaiety habitual to +it after business hours when the weather is rainless and warm. The +taxicab moved slowly, because the children had overflowed the +sidewalks and played games which kept them in blissful danger of +their lives. Twice the taxi stopped. Instantly a crowd gathered +about it, and Barbara became an embarrassed but amused centre of +criticism and admiration.</p> +<p>It became dark. The streets were less crowded. There were fewer +lights. There was an unpleasant smell of old fish and garbage. The +people Barbara now observed seemed each and all intent upon +something or other. They were not merely loafing in the pure +evening air, but hurrying. There were no more children. The taxi +passed slowly (because of the uneven pavement) through a short, +narrow street. The few lights in this street were nearly all +red.</p> +<p>Save for the light in Blizzard's manufactory, Marrow Lane was +dark and deserted. For some reason or other the city lights had +gone out, or had been passed over by the lamplighter.</p> +<p>Through the glazed door Barbara saw the vast black shadow of +Blizzard's profile on the white wall of his office. There was no +bell. She turned the knob and pushed open the door. A bell clanged +almost in her ear with fierce suddenness. It was like an alarm. Her +heart beat the quicker for it; the number of her respirations +increased. She was sorry that she had come. She was frightened; +still she stepped through the door-way, and called in her clear? +resolute voice:</p> +<p>"Mr. Blizzard! It's Miss Ferris."</p> +<p>His vast shadow remained motionless like a stain on the wall. +And for a moment he did not answer. Could she have seen his face +itself, instead of only its shadow, she must have turned with a cry +of fear and found that the door which had closed behind her, +clanging its bell, was locked, and that there was no escape that +way.</p> +<p>If she had turned her head she must have seen that her taxi had +gone quietly away.</p> +<br> +<a name="page142.jpg"></a> +<p class="ctr"><img src="images/page142.jpg" width="50%" alt= +""><br> +<b>In the dim light she looked wonderfully young and +beautiful.</b></p> +<br> +<p>In the dim light she looked wonderfully young and beautiful. The +parted opera-cloak disclosed her round straight throat and the +broad smooth modelling of the neck from which it rose. She seemed +taller and more stately than in street-dress, and at once younger, +more defenceless, more virginal. There was not enough light in the +place to bring out the contrasting colors of her hair. She looked +like a black-haired beauty with ivory-white skin, instead of an +amber, red, and brown beauty, with rosy, brown skin. Her head, +small, round, and carried very high, lent her an air of +extraordinary breeding and distinction. She had no thought for the +short rose-brocade train of her dinner-dress, and let it trail over +the dirty floor.</p> +<p>"Mr. Blizzard!"</p> +<p>This time he answered. It sounded less like a voice than the +hoarse bass croak of a very enormous bull-frog.</p> +<p>"Please step this way."</p> +<p>Her head, if anything, a little higher than ever, she walked +swiftly forward right into the legless man's office.</p> +<p>His face was very white, swollen, it looked, and blotched with +purple. The veins in his forehead looked like mountain ranges on a +topographical map.</p> +<p>"I've only a minute," said Barbara.</p> +<p>He lowered his head now over his ledger, but said nothing. Then +he looked up and into her face steadily, and one by one the purple +blotches in his own face paled, and vanished, like the +extinguishing of as many hellish lights. And then to Barbara's +horror a low groan, more like a dog's than a man's, passed his +tightly pressed lips, came out, and was cut short off, as if with a +keen knife.</p> +<p>"Are you sick?" she asked, not kindly, but imperatively and with +a tone, perhaps, of disgust.</p> +<p>"Yes," said the legless man briefly, but without going into any +explanation of his ailment. "You came to tell me that I mustn't go +away till the bust is finished. Is that it?"</p> +<p>Barbara felt more at her ease. "Yes," she said, "I am selfish +about it. It means so much to me."</p> +<p>"Well, you needn't have come," said Blizzard, and it was almost +as if he was angry with her for having done so. "I've changed my +plans. I've had to change them. I stay."</p> +<p>Barbara was immensely pleased. "I wish I could tell you how glad +I am," she said.</p> +<p>"The thing now," said Blizzard, "is to get you back to your +house. You shouldn't have come to this part of the city at all; and +especially not dressed like that. But you didn't stop to think. You +had an idea in your head. And you came. Did anybody know where you +were going when you left home?"</p> +<p>She shook her head.</p> +<p>"Something dreadful might have happened to you," he said, and a +curious smile played about his mouth for a moment, "and no one the +wiser. Suppose you hadn't found me here to look after you? Suppose +you'd found some drunken crook just out of Sing Sing, or something +worse?"</p> +<p>"But I <i>did</i> find you," said Barbara, "and all is +well."</p> +<p>"Yes--yes," he said, "all <i>is</i> well. And you may thank your +stars for that. Why didn't you tell your taxi to wait?"</p> +<p>"But I did."</p> +<p>Again the curious smile flickered about the legless man's mouth. +"Well, he's gone."</p> +<p>Barbara followed the lead of Blizzard's eyes, and saw that the +street in front of his manufactory was empty. He reached for his +crutches, and swung himself down from his chair.</p> +<p>"Perhaps he's dropped down to Jake's saloon. Wait here. I'll +see."</p> +<p>The bell of the outer door clanged with horrid suddenness. And +then she heard a piercing loud whistle twice repeated. And a few +moments later the sound of a motor.</p> +<p>"All right, Miss Ferris, I've got him."</p> +<p>She drew her cloak together, and joined the legless man on the +sidewalk.</p> +<p>"Thank you very much," she said, "and good-by till +to-morrow."</p> +<p>The taxicab driver's face had no expression whatever. He who +understood driving so well could not make out what the master was +driving at.</p> +<p>Blizzard held open the door of the taxi, and Barbara got in. But +he did not at once close the door. Instead he turned his head and +looked up the street. Then he called out sharply:</p> +<p>"Hurry up! Can't you see the lady's waiting."</p> +<p>One came, running; a tall well-built youth, with an expression +on his face of cool, cynical courage and good humor.</p> +<p>"Miss Ferris," said Blizzard, "this young fellow will ride in +with you if you don't mind. You can drop him when you get out of +the East Side, and reach your own part of the city. He will see +that no harm comes to you. If you ask him questions he will answer +them. Otherwise he will not speak unless you wish."</p> +<p>The youth grinned a little sheepishly, and Barbara made room for +him on the seat beside her.</p> +<p>"He will answer for your safety," continued the legless man, +"with his ears. Where to?"</p> +<p>She gave the number of the house at which she was to dine, and +the legless man repeated it to the driver.</p> +<p>"Good-night, Mr. Blizzard, and thank you."</p> +<p>"Good-night, Miss Ferris, and welcome."</p> +<p>The legless man watched the taxicab until it had rounded the +corner of Marrow Lane. Then he looked upward at the stars for a +while. Then he swung slowly and wearily back into his rookery, and +having extinguished the light, sat for a long time in the dark.</p> +<p>What was it that had come over the man to let his victim escape +when she was so mercilessly in his power? Ask the stars to which he +turned. Ask the darkness in which he sits, alone, thinking. Better, +perhaps, ask the man's warped and tormented soul.</p> +<p>It seems that while he sat in his office waiting for her, a +champion rose up to defend her, a champion in his own heart. A +champion who made such headway against the brute's lawless and +beastly intention as to overthrow it.</p> +<p>Blizzard was in the power of that which all his mature life he +had feared more than hanging or the electric chair, more even than +prisons. He had fallen quietly, even gently, in love.</p> +<p>"I'm not going to ask you any questions," said Barbara, "because +I don't think of any. But if you like to talk, please do."</p> +<p>Without comment or preamble the youth who was to answer for her +safety with his ears, began to talk.</p> +<p>"Might have knocked me over with a feather," he said, "to find a +lady like you sitting in a cab in front o' Blizzard's place. At +first look I says to myself: 'One o' these high-fliers I've heard +talk about that likes to fly low.' Then I flings your eyes one +penetrating peep, and says to myself: ''Spect she ain't one o' that +kind.' And I make out just this about you that you're O.K. from A +to Xylophone, and I takes this opportunity to remark aloud to +myself that I don't know what your game is, and it's none o' my +haterogeneous business, but if I was you I'd cut Marrow Lane out o' +my itenerary, and stay home nights playin' a quiet rubber o' tiddle +winks-the-barber."</p> +<p>Barbara laughed gayly. "Everybody," she said, "thinks that my +friend, Mr. Blizzard, is a very bad man. But he does nothing to +prove it. He has been very considerate of me in every way."</p> +<p>"Did I say anything against Blizzard? You'll tell him I did? Not +you. And I did not. If it <i>wasn't</i> for him, I says, Marrow +Lane <i>would</i> be hell's kitchen, and on the chanct that he +ain't always going to be on the spot, nor me, cut it out, I says. +But," continued the talkative youth, "in case you don't cut it out, +in case you're ever in trouble down our way you take this," bluntly +he handed her a small, dark metal whistle, "and blow her good. I +knows the note, and if my ears is on the job, you gets help. You +gets it sudden. You gets it good. And here, without fear or +comment, I leaves you."</p> +<p>He signalled to the driver to stop. They had reached the +southern boundary of Washington Square. Barbara held out her hand. +She was greatly taken with her escort.</p> +<p>"And whom," she said, "am I thanking for the whistle?"</p> +<p>"Kid Shannon."</p> +<p>"Don't tell me," said Barbara, "that <i>you're</i> the man who +put Hook Hammersley out in the third!"</p> +<p>"A right to the solar plexus," said Kid Shannon simply, "to +bring him in range and a left to the jaw. Even his friends admits +that he begun to take his gloves off while he was still in the air. +But I'm in the saloon business now, if it's all the same to you, +having been light-weight champion, and spoke a monologue over three +circuits--nice-behaved ladies and gentlemen o' both sexes always +welcome, pay as you consume; but for you or any friends o' yours +the drinks will be on the house."</p> +<br> +<a name="page146.jpg"></a> +<p class="ctr"><img src="images/page146.jpg" width="50%" alt= +""><br> +<b>He turned with one foot on the sidewalk, and one in the cab.... +"Here I wishes you salutations ..."</b></p> +<br> +<p>He turned with one foot on the sidewalk, and one in the cab.</p> +<p>"Lady," he said, "what I've poured in jest, drink in earnest. +All that's yellow isn't butter. But if anybody was to ask you--say, +a man who shall be as nameless as he is legless--what I says to you +during our discursive promenaid, you answer back and say, 'Kid +Shannon, whenever I speaks to him, merely says, "Ha! Hum!"--<i>or +words to that effect</i>.' Here I wishes you salutations, and may +your life contain nothing but times when you looks and feels your +best."</p> +<p>Barbara shook hands with him again. "Come to 17 McBurney Place," +she said, "some morning. Ask for Miss Ferris, and see what you +think of the bust she's making of Mr. Blizzard." She smiled +mischievously. "He's supposed to represent the devil just after +falling into hell."</p> +<p>Shannon nodded with complete understanding. "Then," said he, "I +bet he looks a ringer for Hook Hammersley that time he hit the +resin."</p> +<p>"Thank you for protecting me," said Barbara, "and for the +whistle. Will you tell the man to hurry, please? Thank you! +Good-by."</p> +<p>She was very late to her dinner, but much too amused with recent +events to care. And nobody could have made her believe that her +going to Blizzard's place had been fraught with terrible peril. She +prized the whistle that Kid Shannon had given her, and resolved +that some time she would adventure again into his part of the city, +and see if she could bring him running to her side.</p> +<p>"I am sorry I am late," said Barbara, "but I couldn't help it." +She vouchsafed no further explanation, and because she was so young +and beautiful all those who had been kept waiting forgave her.</p> +<br> +<a name="page148.jpg"></a> +<p class="ctr"><img src="images/page148.jpg" width="50%" alt= +""><br> +<b>Wilmot Allen took her into dinner, and looked much love at her, +and talked much nonsense.</b></p> +<br> +<p>Wilmot Allen took her in to dinner, and looked much love at her, +and talked much nonsense. He was, indeed, so gay and foolish that +she imagined that he must have got himself into trouble again.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="XVII"></a>XVII</h2> +<br> +<p>Blizzard was an acute student of human nature. And a certain +softening in Barbara's manner toward him was proof that she had +learned his story from her father, and no longer regarded him as a +stranger off the streets, but as a human being definitely connected +with her outlook upon life. Still, the suggestion that their +relations had changed did not come from him, for he knew that pity +or sympathy given by request lacks the potency of that which is +spontaneously offered. So he held his peace in order that Barbara +might be the first to speak, and during those days his heart became +filled with mad hopes for the future.</p> +<p>Upon one thing he was determined, that when in the course of +events Barbara should touch upon her father's criminal mistake, he +would conceal, as something precious from a thief, the hatred and +vengefulness that were in him, and unroll for her benefit a +character noble and forgiving. He was content, or appeared content, +day after day, for a number of hours, to be with her, and to play +the hypocrite so ably as to defy detection.</p> +<p>And Barbara, knowing how the man had been abused, guessing how +he must have suffered, and still suffered, came to look upon him, +not indeed as upon a person wholly noble, but as upon one who, with +an impulse in the right direction, had in him possibilities of +great nobility.</p> +<p>Just as a fine motor-car, perfect in mechanism, punctures a tire +and is stalled by the side of the road, so works of genius like +Barbara's head of Blizzard do not progress in one swift rush from +start to finish. There were whole mornings during which it seemed +that things went backward instead of forward, and when she was so +discouraged that, had it not been for the legless man's almost +fiery confidence in her ability to overcome all obstacles, she must +have taken a hammer and pounded her fine sketch back into the lump +of clay from which it had been evolved.</p> +<p>Blizzard's eyes had undergone a most thorough schooling. They +had learned, to the flicker of an eyelid, when Barbara was going to +look their way, and at such times were careful not to meet her +eyes. When, however, they knew her to be intent for a period upon +the work and not the model, they studied her always with zest, and +always with more and more understanding.</p> +<p>Suddenly, one day, after he had been sitting motionless for half +an hour, the beggar broke his pose.</p> +<p>"Please don't," she said. "I'm not through."</p> +<p>In his eyes, soft and full of understanding, there was a gentle, +if masterful, smiling. "Yes, you are," he said, "for now. I haven't +watched you at work all these mornings without learning something +about the way you go at it. Do you know what a blind alley is?"</p> +<p>"Yes," she said petulantly, "and I'm in one."</p> +<p>"Quite so," said Blizzard. "And you're not taking the right way +out. First you tried to climb up the house on the right, then the +house on the left, and when I interrupted you, you were making a +sixth effort to shin up the lightning-rod of the house that blocks +the alley."</p> +<p>Barbara laughed. "But," she objected, "I've got to get out +somehow--or fake--or call the thing a fiasco, and give it up."</p> +<p>"Of course you've got to get out," said Blizzard, "and it's very +simple."</p> +<p>"Simple!" she exclaimed; "a lot you know about it."</p> +<p>"Quite simple," he repeated; "you merely face about and walk +out. In, other words, remove that lump of mud which one day is +going to be more like my ear than my ear itself, and begin +over."</p> +<p>And it came home to Barbara that the man was right. "Thank you," +she said simply. "You're a great help. That is precisely what I +shall do."</p> +<p>"But don't do it now."</p> +<p>"Why not?"</p> +<p>"Because you've wasted the freshness of your early-morning zeal +with vain efforts. Destroy what you've done--there's always +satisfaction in that; but either leave the re-doing alone for +to-day, or try something else."</p> +<p>"When," said Barbara, beginning to feel soothed and confident +again, "did I put myself in your hands for guidance?"</p> +<p>"The moment you lost your presence of mind," said the beggar; +"that's when a woman always puts herself in a man's hands. Put a +cloth over his satanic majesty's portrait, and sit down and relax +your muscles, and talk to the devil himself."</p> +<p>Barbara did as he commanded with the expression of a biddable +child. She flung herself into a deep chair, and drew a long, +care-free breath.</p> +<p>"There," she said, "I knew I wasn't fit."</p> +<p>"You can't spend the night at a Country Club, dance till 4 A.M., +catch the 7 A.M. for town, and do good work--not always."</p> +<p>"How did you know all that?"</p> +<p>Blizzard laughed. "From a man," said he, "who had planned to rob +the Meadowbrook Club last night. There is a fine haul of +scarf-pins, and sleeve-links, and watches and money in the +bachelors' quarters. He came to me in great dejection and explained +what very hard luck he had had. He said the whole place was lit up +and full of people and music, and no chance for an honest man to +earn a cent. I happened to ask if you were there, and he said you +were. The train was a guess, and so of course was the 4 A.M. Will +you take a piece of well-meant advice? Either be a society girl or +a sculptor. But don't burn the candle at both ends. You even look +tired, and that's nonsense at your age."</p> +<p>He laughed like a boy.</p> +<p>"They tell me," he said, "that I could do the new dances. They +tell me they are just like clinches in a prize-fight, and that only +the novices move their feet."</p> +<p>Barbara's brows contracted. "I'm going to ask you a favor," she +said. "If you want to talk about your misfortune, God knows I'm +ready to listen. I feel some of the responsibility. But please +don't joke about it. We're friends, I think. And I like to forget +that you're not exactly like other people. And sometimes I do."</p> +<p>"Truly?" His eyes were full of suppressed eagerness and +elation.</p> +<p>"Yes," she said, "when you talk high-mindedly and generously, as +you can, when you want to, I enjoy being with you, in touch with a +mind so much more knowing and able than my own. But, now we've made +a beginning, I'd really like to talk about--all this dreadful mess +that's been made of your life, and how things can be made easier +for you, and for my father."</p> +<p>Figuratively, Blizzard's tongue went into his cheek at the +mention of Dr. Ferris, but the expression of his face underwent no +change. "Of course," he said simply, as if it was the most natural +thing in the world, "I have forgiven your father. He was very +young--very excitable--inexperienced."</p> +<p>"<i>Actually"</i> she said, "in your heart, you've forgiven him? +And you're not saying things just to make me comfortable?"</p> +<p>"I am afraid," he confessed, "that I am too selfish to say or do +things just to make other people comfortable. Did you ever hate +anybody?"</p> +<p>"I think so."</p> +<p>"Did you like it?"</p> +<p>"For a while it was rather fun to think up things to do to the +person, and then it got to be disagreeable, and feverish, like a +cut that's festered, and then I made a strong effort, and found +that hating was very poor company and led nowhere."</p> +<p>"Exactly," said the beggar. "Do you mind if I talk frankly? My +hatred for your father persisted a great many years, until I found +that going to bed with it every night and getting up with it every +morning was a slow poison that was affecting all the rest of me--my +power to think out a line of action, my power to stick to it, even +my power to like people that were good to me and faithful to my +interests. I found that I was beginning to hate everybody and +everything in the world and the world itself. Meanwhile, Miss +Barbara, I did things that can never be undone."</p> +<p>He was silent, and appeared to be turning over the leaves in the +books of his memory. Suddenly he spoke again.</p> +<p>"And it was all so silly," he said, "so futile. The cure was in +my head all the time--just longing to be used. And fool that I was, +I didn't know it."</p> +<p>"What was the cure?"</p> +<p>"It was the sovereign cure for all our troubles, Miss +Barbara--reason, and crowds. Stand morning or evening at the +entrance to the Brooklyn Bridge--stand there with your trouble, and +consider that among the passers, better carried than yours, are +troubles, far, far greater than yours, more poignant, lives lived +in dungeons deeper and more dark. Your father has lived a life of +most admirable utility: should he be hated for one mistake? Suppose +that it had been some other small boy's legs that he wasted, +instead of mine? Would I hate him for it? Why, no. I'd say it's too +bad. But since it was I that lost the legs I lost all sense of +proportion and justice and was a long time--a long time coming back +to it."</p> +<p>"May I know what brought you round?"</p> +<p>The beggar felt that he might dare a little. He smiled. "Of +course. What brought me around was the discovery that he had +created something far, far more important than what he had +destroyed. At first I thought you were like so many other girls of +your class--well dressed, and good to look at. Then that you had a +very genuine talent, and were going to count in the world. Then, +and this is best, it came over me that you were one girl in a +million--that you would do whatever seemed right to you, not +without fear of criticism, and pain and sacrifice, but regardless +of them. And so, you see, the reparation is made. The father hurt, +and the daughter cured."</p> +<p>Barbara's face had become very grave. "However wrong you are +about my character," she said, "the reparation is not yet made. And +you may be sure of this--that, whatever the criticism, I owe you +friendship and you shall have it,"</p> +<p>The beggar trembled inwardly, but he shook his head. "You could +hardly pull me up to a level," he said, "upon which friendship +between us would be possible. Imagine that I have sunk to the chin +in mud, and that at the last time of calling I have been pulled +out. Still the mud clings to me."</p> +<p>"Nonsense," said Barbara, "you can be washed."</p> +<p>They both laughed, and at once became grave again.</p> +<p>"You don't know," he said, "what I've been or what I've done. +You can't even imagine."</p> +<p>"That is not the point," said Barbara, "and this is: Are you +sorry? If you really have been rotten, do you want to be sound and +fine? If you do I'm your friend, and whatever help I can give you, +you shall have."</p> +<p>"If you knew," he said humbly, "how I dread the bust being +finished! I'll be like a child stealing a ride by the strength of +his arms, I'll have to drop off then--won't I?--back into the +mud."</p> +<p>"I'm not offering you friendship," she said, "merely while you +are useful to me. Do well, Mr. Blizzard, and do good, and I will +always be your friend."</p> +<p>"Do you believe that I want to do well, that I want to do good? +That I want to wipe the past from the slate?"</p> +<p>"You have only to tell me," she said loyally, "and I shall +believe."</p> +<p>"Then I tell you," he said, and Barbara jumped impulsively to +her feet and shook hands with him.</p> +<p>"And I may come to you," he pleaded, "for advice, and help? Old +habits are hard to shake. My friends are thieves, crooks, and +grafters. My sources of income are not clean. Even now I have +dishonest irons in the fire. Shall I pull them out?"</p> +<p>"Of course."</p> +<p>"But people who have trusted me will be hurt."</p> +<p>"You must work those problems out in your own conscience."</p> +<p>To Blizzard, believing that he was actually making progress into +the fastnesses of her heart, and that he might in time gain his +ends by propinquity and his own undeniable force and personality, a +sudden, cheeky knocking upon the door proved intensely irritating. +It was a very small messenger-boy with a box of jonquils. Blizzard +watched very closely the expression of Barbara's face while she +opened the box. She held up the flowers for him to see.</p> +<p>"Aren't they pretty?" she said.</p> +<p>"They are very pretty," said Blizzard, and he found it difficult +to control his voice. "And it was very sweet of him to send them. +Isn't that the rest of the speech?"</p> +<p>"Of course," said Barbara gayly.</p> +<p>She lifted the flowers until the lower half of her face was +hidden.</p> +<p>"Mr. Allen, I suppose," said the beggar.</p> +<p>"Why should you suppose that?" said Barbara, a little coldly. +"There is no card."</p> +<p>Blizzard felt his mistake. And Barbara felt that he felt it. She +went into the next room for a vase of water, and returned presently +with heightened color. She had heard Harry West's slow grave voice +explaining something to Bubbles. Her heart told her that West had +sent the flowers, and she meant to get rid of Blizzard and find +out. So, the vase of flowers in one hand, she held out the other to +him, and said:</p> +<p>"To-morrow."</p> +<p>Blizzard was loath to go, but he felt that there was a certain +finality in her voice, and he swung out of the studio, his heart +gnawed with jealousy.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="XVIII"></a>XVIII</h2> +<br> +<p>Through Bubbles, Harry West received the happy news that Miss +Ferris wished to speak with him. But when he saw her with the vase +of jonquils in her hand, and the empty box in which they had come +at her feet, his stout heart failed him a little.</p> +<br> +<a name="page162-163.jpg"></a> +<p class="ctr"><img src="images/page162-163.jpg" width="100%" alt= +""><br> +<b>He saw her with the vase of jonquils in her hand ... and his +stout heart failed him a little.</b></p> +<br> +<p>"Mr. West," said Barbara, "some person is annoying me."</p> +<p>"Annoying you?"</p> +<p>"I am continually receiving flowers without card or +comment."</p> +<p>"Is it the flowers which annoy you or the lack of comment?"</p> +<p>"I love the flowers, but anything in the shape of anonymity is +unfair, and I resent it."</p> +<p>"I can think of cases," said West, "in which a man might +properly send flowers without disclosing his identity--just as I +may pass a fine statue and praise it, without telling the statue +who I am." He smiled.</p> +<p>"Flowers don't resemble statues in the least, and your +comparison is unnaturally far-fetched. Another thing, and this +annoys me even more: my secretive friend sends flowers from the +cheapest florist he can find. I argue from this that he is poor, +and cannot afford to send me flowers at all."</p> +<p>"Perhaps his home and business in the city are too far from the +Fifth Avenue shops."</p> +<p>"You are not saying gallant things, Mr. West. I--an unprotected +young woman--tell you that I am being annoyed by a strange man. +Instead of flying into a chivalrous rage and threatening to wring +his neck when you catch him, you stand up for him. Very well. I +shall set Bubbles to find out who the man is, and take my own steps +in the matter."</p> +<p>Her expression was grave and unruffled, though a certain look of +amusement might have been detected in her eyes, by a youth less +embarrassed than Mr. West was.</p> +<p>"Don't do that," he said; "Bubbles could never find out. You +wish to know who is sending you flowers?"</p> +<p>"Very much. Can <i>you</i> find out?"</p> +<p>"I think so. I mean, I'm sure I can."</p> +<p>"And when you have found him will you point out to him that in +the future he must be open and above-board, or something +disagreeable will be done to him?"</p> +<p>Mr. West bowed humbly.</p> +<p>"How long," she asked, "will it take you to run the creature +down?"</p> +<p>"Well," said Mr. West, "I could go to the florist whose name is +on the box, show my badge, and exact a description of the man who +bought the flowers. Then I could give you the description, and if +you knew any such man--"</p> +<p>"The florist," said Barbara, her expression Sphinx-like, "is +just 'round the corner."</p> +<p>"I hear," said Mr. West, "and I obey."</p> +<p>"I will read a book till you come back," said Barbara.</p> +<p>But she didn't read a book; she leaned instead from a window and +watched for Mr. West to come out of the studio-building. He came +presently, but did not turn east in search of the florist. Neither +did he descend the steps. Instead, he took out his watch and sat +down, and waited. Barbara in great glee watched him for ten +minutes. She was possessed of a devilish longing to fashion out of +paper a small water-bomb and drop it on his head. Memories of +water-bombs brought up memories of Wilmot Allen and old days. She +drew back from the window and was no longer gleeful. Why should men +trouble her heart, since she wished and had elected to live, not a +woman's life but a man's? She paced the studio, her soul at odds +with the rest of her.</p> +<p>Had she ever encouraged Wilmot? Yes. West? Yes. And about a +dozen others. And here she struck her left palm with her right +fist. She had even encouraged a man who had committed all the +crimes in the calendar and was only half a man at that! Half a man? +She was not sure. There was a certain compelling force about him +which at times made him seem more of a man to her than all the rest +of them put together. "I can't imagine him in love," she thought. +"It's really too revolting. But if he was, I can imagine nothing +that he would let stand in his way, I wonder if he is married. And +if he is I pity her. And yet she could say to other women, 'My +husband is a man,' and most of the women I know can't say +that."</p> +<p>And she remembered her father's perfectly ridiculous suggestion +that perhaps the man so wronged by him had lifted his eyes to +herself. The idea no longer seemed ridiculous; but quite possible +and equally dreadful. She made up her mind that she would sacrifice +her immediate chances of recognition and fame and tell the beggar +to discontinue his visits. Then she withdrew the cloth from her +work, and it seemed to her that what she had made was alive and had +about it a certain sublimity, and that to surrender now was beyond +her strength. She had a moment of exultation, and she thought: "In +a hundred years my body will be dust. It doesn't matter what +becomes of it now or hereafter; but people will gather in front of +this head, and artists will come from all over the world to see it. +And there will be plaster casts of it in city museums and village +libraries. And I suppose I'm the most conceited idiot in the world, +but--but it's good. I <i>know</i> it's good!"</p> +<p>She had forgotten West, and Allen, and Blizzard, so that when +the first-named knocked, she had some ado to come out of the clouds +and recall what they had been talking about. Then, not wishing to +drive West into a lie, she said only:</p> +<p>"Have you the man's description?"</p> +<p>"He is not," said West gravely, "a man in your station in life. +He is, I imagine, some young fellow to whom, in passing, you have +been carelessly gracious."</p> +<p>"Is he handsome?" Mischief had returned to her mind.</p> +<p>"He is only bigger and stronger than usual."</p> +<p>"Dark or light?"</p> +<p>"Medium."</p> +<p>"And how long did it take you to find out all these interesting +items?"</p> +<p>"Twelve minutes," said West gravely.</p> +<p>"By the clock?"</p> +<p>"By a dollar watch.... Miss Ferris, I haven't done right. I'm +not doing right."</p> +<p>This came very suddenly. He had lowered his fine head and was +frowning,</p> +<p>"I'm the man who's been sending you flowers. I didn't know it +was wrong. I'm not a gentleman. But once I'd seen you, I could +never see flowers without thinking of you, so I kept sending them, +hoping that they would give you pleasure for their own sake. I had +no business even to look at you. To win the kind of race I'm up +against, a man ought to keep his eyes in the boat, and not look +right or left till his race is won or lost. And even then it ought +to be right or left that he looks, and not up, and certainly not +down. I didn't keep my eyes in the boat. I looked up, 'way up, and +saw you, and caught a crab that threw the whole boat out of trim. +I've no excuse, only this--that I haven't ever before even looked +right or left or down. But it's all right now. Nobody's hurt. I +won't come any more to watch over you. The lines are closing round +Blizzard, and he knows it. His claws are pulled. He's got to toe a +chalk-line, and you're as safe with him as with the Bishop of +London."</p> +<p>Barbara said nothing. She felt very unhappy.</p> +<p>"One thing more. As long as I did forget the work in hand, as +long as I did look up, why, I'd like to thank God, in your +presence, that it was you I saw. Because in all the whole world +there is nobody so beautiful or so blind."</p> +<p>He thrust out his hand almost roughly, caught hers, said +good-by, and turned to go.</p> +<p>"Please wait," said Barbara. And she said it quite contrary to +reason, which told her that it would be kinder to let the young man +go without comments.</p> +<p>"You've done nothing wrong," she went on, "and I can't help +being pleased by the flowers and knowing that you think I am all +sorts of things that I'm not. If you really like me a good deal, +don't go away looking as if the world had come to an end. I think +you are a fine person, and I shall always be glad to be your +friend."</p> +<p>There was agony in West's eyes. "My friendship," he said, "can +never be any special pleasure to you. And seeing you--even once a +year--would keep alive things that hurt me, and that never ought to +have been born, and that were better dead."</p> +<p>"'Faint heart--'" Barbara began, and could have bitten out her +tongue, since she had so often promised herself that she would +never again encourage anybody.</p> +<p>The agony died in Harry West's eyes, and there came instead a +look of great gentleness, compassion, and understanding.</p> +<p>"May I say things to you that are none of my business?" he +asked. She nodded briefly, and he went on: "You mustn't say things +like that. You have a race to row, too, but your beautiful eyes are +all over the place!"</p> +<p>"I knew I was a rotter," said Barbara, "but I didn't know it was +obvious to everybody."</p> +<p>"To eyes," said West gently, "in a certain condition lots of +things are obvious that other people wouldn't see. May I still say +things?"</p> +<p>"Don't spare me."</p> +<p>"You love to attract men. And if you happen to hurt them, you +think you are a rotter. That isn't true. You're being pulled two +ways. Art pulls you one--the way you <i>think</i> you want to +go--and nature pulls you the way you really want to go. Men attract +you to a certain extent. I can almost feel that--and you tire of +them, and think it's because you haven't got the capacity for +really caring. That isn't true either. You have infinite capacities +for caring, but as yet you haven't been attracted to the man you +are really going to care for."</p> +<p>Barbara looked him straight in the eyes. "How do you know I +haven't?"</p> +<p>He returned the look, as if doubting what he should say or do. +Then he drew a deep breath to steady himself.</p> +<p>"Perhaps you have. But I know very well that it is not the man +you think, at this moment. You are in the hunting stage, and you +didn't know it. Now that you do know--unless I am greatly +mistaken--I think you will try very hard not to hurt people, not to +let them have wild dreams of something doing in the future."</p> +<p>"But if I really think--"</p> +<p>"Then be secret until you <i>know</i>."</p> +<p>"And if everything that is me seems to be going out to a certain +man--"</p> +<p>"Then be secret until it has really gone out to him."</p> +<p>"I don't know why I let you talk to me like this."</p> +<p>"There you go again," he said, and she bit her lips. "It is very +awful for me," he said, "to think that I have raised my voice in +any criticism or disparagement of you."</p> +<p>"Oh, it's all true, and it's all deserved."</p> +<p>"But you are like that. And all at the same time it's your +greatest strength and your greatest weakness, and for the right +man, when he comes along, it will be his greatest treasure.... I +don't like to say good-by. It comes hard."</p> +<p>"If I said, 'Don't say good-by,' would I be breaking the +rules?"</p> +<p>"Yes," he said, "for I could never be the right man."</p> +<br> +<a name="page163.jpg"></a> +<p class="ctr"><img src="images/page163.jpg" width="50%" alt= +""><br> +<b>When Bubbles had trotted off, she dropped into her chair and +cried.</b></p> +<br> +<p>"Not even if--"</p> +<p>"Not even if--and you will have forgotten any kindness that you +felt for me, while I am still wondering why the city is so empty, +that once seemed so full."</p> +<p>The tears sprang into Barbara's eyes. "Is there anything about +me that you don't know?" she asked bitterly.</p> +<p>"Oh, yes," he said.</p> +<p>"Do you know that if you asked me to marry you, I should say +yes?"</p> +<p>"And I know that I am not going to ask you. There are two +reasons. You don't love me. And I do love you."</p> +<p>Her arms dropped limply to her sides.</p> +<p>"And it shall never be said of me," he said proudly, "that I +dragged any one down.... Will you promise me something?"</p> +<p>"If you care to trust me to keep promises or to do anything +that's right and honest."</p> +<p>"Only promise to keep your eyes in the boat. Don't help a poor +dog of a man into love with you. And don't help yourself into love +with him. When the right man comes along, he will <i>make</i> you +love him, and then you will be sure."</p> +<p>"I will promise," said Barbara simply, "and I never knew how +rotten I was. And I'm glad you've told me. If it's any comfort to +you--you've helped. And nobody ever helped before. I shall always +be proud to remember that you loved me. And I'll keep my eyes in +the boat."</p> +<p>"And that," said Mr. West, "is where I'll keep mine, only, if +it's nothing to you, I'll remember sometimes how the moon looked +that time I looked up."</p> +<p>She stood uncertain.</p> +<p>"It's kind of awkward," he said, "sometimes to make a clean +break. Good luck to you. And don't feel sorry about me. And be true +to yourself. And if you ever really need me for anything tell +Bubbles. He knows where to find me, when anybody does."</p> +<p>A few minutes later Barbara was asking Bubbles if he happened to +know Mr. Harry West's address.</p> +<p>"He won't be coming back here," she said, "and I want to send +him a book."</p> +<p>"I'll deliver it," said Bubbles. "He don't keep no regular +address. You have to catch him on the run."</p> +<p>"Very well," she said, "take him this, with my very best thanks +and my very best wishes."</p> +<p>And she gave Bubbles a charmingly bound copy of Rostand's +"Far-Away Princess," and when Bubbles had trotted off, she dropped +into her chair and cried because she thought she had broken poor +West's heart. But there was stern stuff in his heart, and +exultation, for he knew that in the supreme test of his life, he +had thought only of--her.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="XIX"></a>XIX</h2> +<br> +<p>"There, everything is understood," said Blizzard; "we are agreed +upon the 15th of next January. And you can bring enough men on from +the West to do the work?"</p> +<p>O'Hagan, thick-set, black, bristling, nodded across the table. +"You have guaranteed the money and the hats," he said; "I will +guarantee the men. What's behind that door?"</p> +<p>"Nothing but a junk-closet," said Blizzard. "Drink +something."</p> +<p>O'Hagan poured three fingers of dark whiskey into a short glass +and drank it at one gulp. "After that one," he said, "the wagon +until the 15th."</p> +<p>"Yes," said Blizzard with some grimness. "There must be no +frolicking. And mind this, Jimmie: the more good American citizens +who don't speak English that you can corral the better. We don't +want intelligence. We want blind obedience with a hope of gain. And +they mustn't know what they are to do till it's time to do it. They +should begin to come into the city by the middle of December, a few +at a time. Let 'em come to me half a dozen at once for money, +weapons, and orders."</p> +<p>Again O'Hagan nodded. This time he rose, and the two shook hands +across the table. O'Hagan seemed to labor under a certain emotion; +but Blizzard was calm,</p> +<p>"Keep me posted," he said, "and for God's sake, Jimmie, cut out +the little things. You're in big now. Forget your troubles and your +wrongs. Leave liquor alone and dynamite. Remember that on the 15th +of next January you and I'll be square at last with law and order +and oppression. Good luck to you!"</p> +<p>When O'Hagan had gone Blizzard moved his chair so that it faced +the door of the junk-closet. And he smiled occasionally as if he +were one of an audience at some diverting play. From time to time +he took a drink of whiskey and licked his lips. An hour passed, two +hours, and always the legless man kept his agate eyes upon the +closet door.</p> +<p>When two hours and fifteen minutes had gone, he drew an +automatic pistol from his pocket, and held it ready for instant +use. A few minutes later, finding his original plan of humor a +little tedious in the working out, he spoke in a clear, incisive +voice:</p> +<p>"Better come out of that now or I shall begin to shoot."</p> +<p>The door opened, and Rose staggered into the room. After a short +pause, during which she swayed and gasped for breath, an automatic +pistol fell with a clatter from her nerveless fingers. She sank to +the floor all in a heap and began to cry hysterically.</p> +<br> +<a name="page172.jpg"></a> +<p class="ctr"><img src="images/page172.jpg" width="45%" alt= +""><br> +<b>The door opened, and Rose staggered into the room.</b></p> +<br> +<p>Blizzard slid from his chair and secured her pistol. His face +wore an expression of amused tolerance. "Tell me all about it," he +said. "Crying <i>can't</i> do any good, and talking may. You hid in +the closet to listen. It's not the first time. I found one of your +combs, and saw where you'd brushed away the dirt so's not to spoil +your dress. Now I'd like to know how much you know, and whom you've +told it to?"</p> +<p>"What's the use?" said Rose with sudden desperation. "You've got +me--nobody'll ever know from me what I've heard to-night. You're +going to kill me."</p> +<p>"I doubt it," said Blizzard. "Now look up and tell me all about +everything."</p> +<p>"Well," she said, "I've been spying on you."</p> +<p>"I know that. I knew that the day you came. When you said you +loved me I knew you were lying."</p> +<p>"At first," she said, "I passed over everything I could find out +about you. It wasn't much."</p> +<p>"I took care of that."</p> +<p>"Then I made up things--just to keep the others from knowing I +wasn't playing fair. I wanted to put that off as long as I could. +Anything I really found out--like your first talk with O'Hagan--I +just kept to myself. I know I lied to you the first day. But I'm +not lying now."</p> +<p>The legless man smiled tolerantly. "Why did you keep on trying +to find out things--if you didn't mean to use them?"</p> +<p>"Because I wanted to know all about you, what you were doing, +what your interests were. I thought I could be more useful to you +that way."</p> +<p>"It's a good thing for you, Rose," said Blizzard, "that I +guessed all this. If I hadn't you wouldn't be alive now. And so, +now that you've gotten to know me pretty well, there's something +about me, is there, that's knocked your ambitions galley-west?"</p> +<p>"I had friends that trusted me," she said, "and I've played +double with them. And now I've got only you."</p> +<p>"Tell me one thing," and Blizzard asked the question with some +eagerness, "what particular quality of mine got you to feeling this +way about me?"</p> +<p>"I guess it's every quality now," said Rose, "but it started +with me the first time I heard you play, and knew that, whatever +you'd been and done, and were planning to do, you had a soul above +it all. And I knew that if your soul had ever had a fair chance +you'd have been more like a god than a man."</p> +<p>"Well, well," said Blizzard after a long silence, "perhaps. Who +knows! And so it was the music that changed your heart? Well, why +not? Nobody makes better music--unless it's Hofman."</p> +<p>The idea of appealing to the heart of quite another girl through +his music filled the legless man with a wild hoping. Why not? If he +could play himself clean out of hell whenever he pleased, why not +another? He would not tell her the possibilities of nobility that +yet remained in him. He would play them to her.</p> +<p>"Rose," he said, "you're the best pedaller I ever had. You've +got music in you. We'll practise up and give a concert. I'll ask +some nobs in. We'll turn the piano so that seeing how the pedalling +is done won't distract their attention from the music. But they +won't hear our music, Rose. It will be better than that. They shall +roll in it, bathe in it, see heaven!"</p> +<p>"That's what I saw."</p> +<p>Blizzard's agate eyes glinted with a strange light. It was as if +the beast in him was fighting with the God. But gradually all +mercifulness, all-pity, went out, and the fires which remained were +not good to see.</p> +<p>He kissed her and she kissed him back.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="XX"></a>XX</h2> +<br> +<p>Feeling that she had been working too hard, being in much +distress about Harry West, and in some for herself, and learning +that Wilmot Allen was to be of the party, Barbara told Blizzard, at +the end of his sitting on Friday, that he need not come Saturday, +as she was going to spend the week-end with the Bruces at +Meadowbrook.</p> +<p>"I'm dog-tired," she said, "and that's the same as being +discouraged. We both need a rest. Things have been at a stand-still +nearly all the week."</p> +<p>"I think you are right about yourself," said Blizzard, "but +won't your gay friends keep you up till all hours?"</p> +<p>"They will <i>not</i>" said Barbara, "and it won't be gay. +During a falling market there are never more than two happy people +at the largest Long Island house-party. The men will sit by +themselves and drink very solemnly. The women will sit by +themselves and yawn till ten o'clock. It will be very boring and +very restful."</p> +<p>"Speaking of falling markets, is my friend Mr. Allen to be among +those present? I understand that he has been very hard hit."</p> +<p>"I don't know about that," said Barbara. "He often is. Yes, he +is to be among those present, and I'm really going just to have a +chance to talk to him."</p> +<p>"<i>With</i> him or <i>to</i> him?" asked Blizzard with one of +his sudden, dazzling smiles.</p> +<p>"<i>To</i> him," said Barbara, also smiling, "I, too, have +listened to tales out of school, and since he is my oldest friend, +and probably my best, he must be straightened out."</p> +<p>"A little absence from New York, perhaps," suggested Blizzard, +and watched her face closely.</p> +<p>"Do you think so? It doesn't seem to me necessary to run away in +order to straighten out."</p> +<p>"Mr. Allen," said Blizzard, "should swear off stock-gambling, +and marry a rich girl."</p> +<p>"He's not that kind," said Barbara simply. And this swift, loyal +statement did not please the beggar, since it argued more to his +mind of the faith that goes with love than of that appertaining to +friendship. He felt a sharp stab of jealousy, and had some ado to +keep the pain of it from showing in his face.</p> +<p>"Well," he said, "if anybody can help him, you can. And if you +can't, send him to me. Oh, we've had dealings before now. I was +even of real service to him once."</p> +<p>"If that is true," Barbara thought, "it's rather rotten of +Wilmot to keep running this poor soul down."</p> +<p>Blizzard left with obvious reluctance. Two whole days without a +sight of Miss Ferris seemed a very long time to him. "I shall miss +these morning loafings."</p> +<p>"Is that what you call posing?"</p> +<p>"What else? You loaf now. Good luck to the tired eye and +hand."</p> +<p>"Thank you," said Barbara. "Next week we'll see if we can't +really get somewhere."</p> +<p>"We shall try," said Blizzard. He turned at the door. "I want to +play for you some time," he said. "May I?"</p> +<p>"Why, yes--of course."</p> +<p>"At my place," he said. "I have a new piano in; it's very good. +You see, I pound four or five of them to pieces in the course of a +year. I thought perhaps you'd bring two or three or more of your +friends who like music, I know <i>you</i> do. I'll give you supper. +Your friends might think it was a good slumming spree to come to a +concert at my house. And I particularly want to play for you. I go +for weeks without playing, and then the wish comes."</p> +<p>She longed to ask him how he worked the pedals, and had to bite +the question back.</p> +<p>He laughed, reading her mind. "If you come," he said, "I will +try to make you forget what I am--even what I look like. I should +like you to know what I might have been--what I still might be." He +went out abruptly and closed the door after him.</p> +<p>Barbara mused for a minute and then rang for Bubbles. "I'm going +out of town for over Sunday," she said. "What will you do?"</p> +<p>"Me and Harry," said he, "is going down to the sea +swimming."</p> +<p>"Please give Harry my best wishes, Bubbles."</p> +<p>The great eyes held hers for a minute and were turned away. He +was sharp enough to know that through one of his idols the other +had been hurt. And he found the knowledge sorrowful and heavy.</p> +<p>"I'll do that," he said solemnly.</p> +<p>That afternoon Wilmot Allen drove Barbara down to Meadowbrook. +He had borrowed a sixty-horse-power runabout for the occasion, but +displayed no anxiety to put the machine through its higher paces. +"I've had a rough week," he said, "and my nerves are shaky. Do you +mind if we take our time?"</p> +<p>"No," said Barbara, "my nerves are shaky, too. And I want to +talk to you without having the words blown out of my mouth and +scattered all over Long Island."</p> +<p>He bowed over the steering-wheel, and said: "It's good to know +that you <i>want</i> to talk to me. Is it to be about you, about +me--or us?"</p> +<p>Barbara leaned luxuriously against the scientifically placed +cushion, all her muscles relaxed. "You," she said, "are to play +several parts, Wilmot."</p> +<p>"And always one," he answered softly.</p> +<p>"Not now," she said, "please. First you are to play priest, and +listen to confession. Then you are to confess, or I am to do it for +you, and receive penance."</p> +<p>"While I'm priest," he said, "do I impose any penance on +you?"</p> +<p>"I'll listen to suggestions," said she, "that point toward +absolution."</p> +<p>"I am now clothed In my priestly outfit," said Wilmot; "you have +entered the confessional. I listen."</p> +<p>Very simply, without preamble, she plunged into her affair with +Harry West. And Wilmot listened, his head bent forward over the +steering-wheel. It was not pleasant for him to learn that she had +thought herself seriously in love with another man, and was not now +in the least sure of her feelings toward him.</p> +<p>"I cried almost all night," she said; "it didn't seem as if I +could bear it."</p> +<p>"How about the next night, Barbs?"</p> +<p>"Oh, I slept," she said, "or thought about work."</p> +<p>"And he told you that you mustn't see each other anymore?"</p> +<p>"Yes."</p> +<p>"I think he was right, Barbs. I don't believe you really love +him, dear. If you did you would have cried for many nights and +days--felt like it, I mean, all the time. Men attract you--they +drop out for some reason or other--and so on. I know pretty +well."</p> +<p>"That's just what he said," said Barbara, "and it's true, +Wilmot. I'm almost sure now that I don't really love him. And +that's ugly enough. But it's worse to think that he really loves +me, and that it's my fault."</p> +<p>Wilmot Allen did not make the mistake of saying that it was not +her fault. "It just shows, Barbs dear," he said, "that it's time to +pull up. You've got more darned temperament than anybody I ever +saw. It's a great weapon, but you've got to learn to control it, +and not swing it wild and hurt people."</p> +<p>"That's what he said."</p> +<p>"Well, he seems to be a sensible fellow, and a fine fellow, and +to have thought of you rather than himself. You told him you'd +marry him if he asked you? Now, Barbs, listen to me. That was a +fool thing to say."</p> +<p>"I know it"</p> +<p>"Do you realize how lucky you are to have said it to West +instead of to some other fellow who happened to be on the make? +You've come through your young life almost entirely by good luck, +not by good management. You've run up against honorable men, +instead of rotters. That's the answer."</p> +<p>"I should think, feeling this way, you'd hate and despise +me."</p> +<p>His hand left the steering-wheel and gave hers a swift pat.</p> +<p>"Well, it's over," she said, "and I wanted you to know. I'm +going to pull back in my shell and be very dignified and honorable. +If anybody wants to get hurt through me, they've got to hurt +themselves."</p> +<p>"You'll not try to see West any more?"</p> +<p>"No," she said rather wearily, "that's over. And it's for the +best. I've had a good lesson. No man ought ever to take me +seriously until I've told him every day for a year that I love him. +Maybe two years."</p> +<p>"Just tell me <i>once</i>--" he began</p> +<p>"Don't," she said, "please. Now you confess."</p> +<p>"Well, Barbs," he said, "this week-end is a sort of good-by. I'm +in very deep, and I'm going to a new place to live a new life."</p> +<p>"Well!" she exclaimed, "you're not running away?"</p> +<p>"Only from temptation," he said. "I have spoken to all my +creditors but one, and they have behaved decently and kindly. +Wherever I go I take my obligations with me, and, God willing, they +shall all be paid."</p> +<p>"Oh," she said, "I think a man ought to make good in the midst +of his temptations."</p> +<p>"Might just as well say that you ought to finish your bust of +Blizzard with one hand tied behind your back, since it's a constant +temptation to you to use both. You ought also to be blindfolded and +to work in the dark, since you are constantly tempted to look at +your model and see what you are doing."</p> +<p>"I shall miss you," she said simply, "like everything. +Why--"</p> +<p>"Why what?"</p> +<p>"It fills the future with blanks that can't be filled in."</p> +<p>"That may or may not be, Barbs. If they can't be filled in, you +will write to me, and I will come back."</p> +<p>"But I don't mean--"</p> +<p>"I don't believe you know what you mean. But you aren't Barbs +now; you are my confessor. I confess to you, then, that I am in +pretty much the same boat with Harry West. I am going away, partly, +to get over you--if I can. Love is a fire. Feed it, and it grows. +Let it alone, and it dies. Confessor, there is a certain girl--one +Barbara Ferris, I love her with all my heart and soul and have so +done for many years. Since this leads to happiness for neither of +us, I am going to cut her out of my life."</p> +<p>"Wilmot! Are you speaking seriously? You're not going to write +to me? I'll have no news of you? Not know how you are getting on? +Not know if you are sick or well?"</p> +<p>"The first night," said Wilmot, "you cried. The second you slept +and thought about work."</p> +<p>"But you are my oldest friend and my best. Whatever we are to +each other, we are that--best friends. We have our roots so deep in +the happenings of years and years that we can't be moved--and get +away with it."</p> +<p>"We shall see," said Wilmot almost solemnly. "It isn't going to +be easy for me, either. But time will soon show. If after a year we +find that we cannot do without each other's friendship--why, then +we must see each other again. That's all there is to it."</p> +<p>"At least you'll write?"</p> +<p>He shook his head.</p> +<p>"But I will."</p> +<p>"No, Barbs. The sight of your writing would be too much fuel for +the fire."</p> +<p>She was silent for a quarter of a mile. She did not enjoy the +idea of being deliberately cut out of Wilmot Allen's life and heart +"Suppose," she said, "that at the end of the year the fire is still +burning bright?"</p> +<p>He slowed the car down so that he could turn and look at her. +His face looked very strong and stern. "In that case," he said, "I +will come back and marry you,"</p> +<p>"And supposing that meanwhile, in a fit of loneliness and +mistaken zeal, I shall have married some one else?"</p> +<p>"If I feel about you as I do now," said Allen, "I will take you +away from him."</p> +<p>Once more the car began to run swiftly, so swiftly that Wilmot +could not take his eyes from the road to look at Barbara's face. If +he had, he would have seen in her eyes an extraordinary look of +trouble and tenderness.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="XXI"></a>XXI</h2> +<br> +<p>During the week-end Barbara and Allen were much together, to the +amusement of the other guests, who said: "<i>It's</i> on again." +But it was not really.</p> +<p>If Wilmot was going away, Barbara wished him to have good +memories of last times together to carry with him. And Wilmot, like +a foolish fellow who is going to swear off Monday, and in the +meanwhile drinks to excess, saw no reason why he should dress his +wounds in the present, since, in time to save his life, he was +going to give them every attention possible. That he was going to +"get over" Barbara in a year he did not believe. But observation +and common-sense told him that life without her must become easier +and saner as time passed, and that to be forever caught up or +thrown down by her varying moods toward him had ceased to be a +self-respecting way of life. This is what common-sense and +experience told him; but his heart told him that he would love her +always, and that if he could not have her he must simply die.</p> +<p>Sunday night, after she had gone to bed, Barbara lay in the +darkness and asked herself questions. Wilmot's life had not been +fine, but his love had been very fine, and for longer than she +could remember. Would it not be well to trust herself to such a +love as that? Had she the right to send it away begging? Would it +not be better, since marriage is a lottery, to grasp some things +that in this case would be sure, instead of leaving everything to +chance? If he kept away from her long enough, his love would +probably die, or at least reduce itself to a state of occasional +melancholy agitation. But if she belonged to him it would never +die. Of this their whole past seemed a sure proof. If she married +him he would always love her and be faithful to her; for her part +she was wonderfully fond of him, and she believed that if she once +actually committed herself to his care, she would be a good wife to +him, and a loving. Then why not? She tried the effect of pretending +that she had promised to marry him and meant to keep her word, and +she found that the position, if only mentally, was strategically +strong and secure. She would make him happy; she herself would +cease from troubling him and other men. For her sake he would turn +over new leaves and be everything that was fine. She would be +obedient and have no more difficult knots to untangle for herself. +Wilmot would simply cut them for her with a sure word, one way or +the other.</p> +<p>She had not for a long time enjoyed so peaceful a night. Hours +passed, and she found that, without sleeping, she was becoming +wonderfully rested. For it is true that nothing so rests the +thinker as unselfish thinking.</p> +<p>She had breakfast in her room, but was down in time to catch the +business men's train for town, or to be driven in Wilmot's borrowed +runabout, if he should ask her. He did, and amid shouts of farewell +and invitations to come again soon, they drove away together into +the cool bright morning.</p> +<p>"Wilmot," Barbara said, when they had passed the last outpost of +the Bruces' shrubbery and whirled into the turnpike, "I spent most +of last night thinking."</p> +<p>"You look fresh as a rosebud."</p> +<p>She shook her head as if to shake off the dew, and said: "I feel +more rested than if I had slept soundly. If you will marry me, +Wilmot, I will make you a good wife."</p> +<p>Wilmot's heart leaped into his throat with joy, and then dropped +as if into a deep abyss of doubt. For all her confessions to him, +and for all her promises of amendment, here was his darling Barbs +unable to resist the temptation of hurting him again. "One of her +impulses," he thought, and at once he was angry with her, and his +heart yearned over her.</p> +<p>"Are you going to be able to say that, Barbs," he said gently, +"a year from now, after we've been out of sight and hearing of each +other all that time?"</p> +<p>"Wilmot," she said, "I'm not up to my old bad tricks. I am ready +to give you my word this time, and to keep faith. Only I'd like +everything to be done as soon as possible. I've been a very foolish +girl, and perplexed and tired, and I want to lean on you, if you'll +let me. We'll have a good life together, and I will keep my eyes in +the boat."</p> +<p>"A few days ago, Barbs," he said, "you thought that you were +seriously in love with another man."</p> +<p>"I know," she said, "but I wasn't."</p> +<p>"Are you in love with me now?" he asked wistfully.</p> +<p>"I know that you will always be good to me, and love me. And +that is what I <i>know</i> that I want."</p> +<p>"Poor little Barbs," he said.</p> +<p>"It seems to me rather," she said, "that I am now rich with +chances of happiness for us both. I want to make my oldest and most +deserving friend happy, and I trust him to make me happy."</p> +<p>"It isn't love, dear?"</p> +<p>"It's so much affection and friendship that perhaps it's +better." She turned her face away a little. "The best that marriage +can end in is affectionate companionship; why not begin with that, +and so be sure of it for always?"</p> +<p>"If I had ever dreamed," said Wilmot unsteadily, "that you were +going to say things like this to me, I'd have dreamed that I went +wild with happiness, and drove you to the nearest clergyman. But +now that you have actually said what you have said, in real life, I +find that I love you more than ever, and that it is not compatible +with so much love to take you on a basis of friendship. You feel +that you have hurt me more than is possible for your conscience to +bear, and you wish to make up for it. Is that right?"</p> +<p>"That's not all there is to it, Wilmot, by any means. But for +heaven's sake believe that I'm being altogether unselfish: but you +know me too well to believe anything so ridiculous."</p> +<p>"I know you well enough," said Wilmot, "to worship the ground +you walk on. Not because my heart urges me, but my understanding. +And I know you would play the game, once you had given your word, +and make me a splendid wife. But what I have for you cannot be +given to mere friendship and submission, I should feel that I had +sinned against my love for you too greatly to be forgiven. You are +closer to me than you have ever been, my dear--and yet so far away +that I can only look upward as to a star, and despair of the +distance. If there has been anything fine in my life, it has been +my love for you. And behold, you, with every opposite intention, +are tempting me to let that go rotten, too. But, O my Barbs, if you +could only love me!"</p> +<p>Barbara drew a long breath. "I thought I was doing right."</p> +<p>"You <i>have</i> done right. It is for me to do right."</p> +<p>"Well," she said, "I'm bitterly disappointed, and that's all +there is to it. Ought I to thank you for letting me off?"</p> +<p>"Yes, dear."</p> +<p>"Then I thank you."</p> +<p>Neither spoke for a long time. At last Barbara said:</p> +<p>"When do you go West?"</p> +<p>"In a very few days."</p> +<p>"Then you will be able to go to Mr. Blizzard's party and hear +him play."</p> +<p>"Are you still determined on that?"</p> +<p>"Why, yes. It will be fun. And besides, I haven't any husband to +forbid me."</p> +<p>Wilmot's temper rose a little. "I'll go," he said shortly. "When +will the bust be finished? And the whole Blizzard episode?"</p> +<p>"I'm sure I don't know," said Barbara patiently. "But I think +the Blizzard episode--as you call it--is rather a permanent +friendship. I find reasons to like him, and to admire him."</p> +<p>Wilmot made no comment. He longed to speak evil of Blizzard, but +the fact of his financial obligation to the man kept him silent. He +contented himself with saying: "I'm glad that I haven't your +artistic judgment of character. One of these days you will learn, +to your cost, that men's judgment of a man is usually correct."</p> +<p>"I wish he had legs," said Barbara. "I'd like to do Prometheus +bound to the rock."</p> +<p>Wilmot's disgust was intense. "Do you mean to say--" he began, +and then checked himself. "Why not have your father graft a pair on +him? He's succeeded, by all accounts, in doing so for all sorts of +beasts."</p> +<p>"Do you know," said Barbara sweetly, "that is just what my +father would try to do for Mr. Blizzard if some interested person +would only step forward and supply the legs."</p> +<p>"I dare say Blizzard would find a pair quickly enough, if he +thought they could be attached."</p> +<p>"But how could he?"</p> +<p>"Oh, I'm just joking, Miss Innocence. But, seriously, he could +buy a pair for a price. You can buy anything in this world--except +love,"</p> +<p>Blizzard, sitting in the sun on the steps of 17 McBurney Place, +watched the pair approaching in the runabout, noted as they drew +near the affectionate seriousness of their attitude toward each +other--for they had stopped talking of him and returned to +themselves--and his whole being burned suddenly with a rage of +jealousy. Controlling the expression of his face, he rose upon his +crutches and descended the steps to greet Barbara at the curb.</p> +<p>"Glad to see you!" said she. "And how about Wednesday night for +the party? Mr. Allen is coming, and I have asked three or four +other people."</p> +<p>The legless man bowed and said: "Thank you. Wednesday at +half-past nine."</p> +<p>He nodded affably to Allen, who returned the salute with all his +charming ease and courtesy. You might have mistaken them for two +men who really valued each other.</p> +<p>"Miss Ferris," said Blizzard, "I shall be ready for work as soon +as you. I wish to ask Mr. Allen a question."</p> +<p>Wilmot winced, since he noted a tone of command in Blizzard's +voice, and it jarred on him, and he said good-by to Barbara and +watched her disappear into the studio-building with a feeling of +strong resentment against the man who had to all intents and +purposes dismissed her from the scene.</p> +<p>"Well?" he said curtly.</p> +<p>But Blizzard, enjoying the childish satisfaction of having +separated the pair, was no longer in the mood to take offence. "I +wish to make a proposition to you," he said, "but at some length. +Will you come to my place at three o'clock this afternoon? It is +easier for you to get about than for me."</p> +<p>"I am very busy," said Wilmot; "I am getting ready to go +West."</p> +<p>"So I have gathered. Have you anything definite in view?"</p> +<p>"Not very," said Wilmot. "Nor any money to put it through with. +About the loan you were so kind as to make me, I can only say that +I am going to turn over a new leaf, and to work very hard at +something or other. If I have any luck you shall be paid."</p> +<p>The legless man dismissed the matter of the loan with a backward +toss of his head. "If you've nothing definite in view," said he, +"please come at three o'clock, I have interests in the +West--legitimate interests, and influence. Perhaps I can put you in +a way to clear up your debts."</p> +<p>"Well, by George," said Wilmot, his good nature returning, "if +that's the idea, I'll turn up at three sharp. Sure thing."</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="XXII"></a>XXII</h2> +<br> +<p>Blizzard had upon his desk a specimen of the straw hats which +the young ladies of his establishment were kept so busy plaiting. +At exactly three o'clock he thrust it to one side, and at exactly +the same moment the bell of his street door clanged, and Wilmot +Allen came in out of the sunlight.</p> +<p>"On time," said Blizzard, "thank you. Are you a judge of hats? +Try that one."</p> +<p>Obediently Wilmot removed his own heavy yellowish straw, and +substituted the soft and pliant article indicated. It fitted him to +perfection, and the legless man smiled.</p> +<p>"It's yours," he said; "fold it up, and put it in your +pocket."</p> +<p>"It'll break it."</p> +<p>"Here. Let me show you." And Blizzard folded the hat as if it +had been a linen handkerchief. "Very handy thing," he said, "and +only to be obtained as a gift. Sit down," Wilmot thrust the hat +into his inside pocket and sat down on the beggar's left, facing +the light. The faint hum of girls talking at their work came from +the back of the establishment. A whirling fan buzzed and bumped. +The weather had turned very hot.</p> +<p>"Young man," the beggar began abruptly, "if I had your legs I'd +engage in something more active and adventurous than the +manufacture of straw hats. Have you ever had the wish to be a +soldier of fortune? To go about the world redressing wrong, +fighting upon the side of the oppressed?"</p> +<p>"Of course," said Wilmot simply.</p> +<p>"You are heavily in debt?"</p> +<p>"Very."</p> +<p>"Whatever I may say to you will go no further?"</p> +<p>"No further."</p> +<p>The legless man stroked his chin strongly with his thick +fingers. "I am engineering a little revolution," he said. "My own +morals are negligible. Any revolution that offered a profit would +look good to me. But in this case the revolutionary party <i>is</i> +oppressed, down-trodden, robbed, starved, and murdered by +conditions created by the party in power. I am not yet at liberty +to name you the part of the world in which this state of affairs +exists, that will be for later. Meanwhile, if my proposition +interests you, will you take my word for the place and for the +abuse of power? Indeed, the latter smells to heaven."</p> +<p>"South America," said Wilmot, "is full of just such rottenness +as you describe. I suppose you're speaking of some South American +republic?"</p> +<p>"Maybe I am," said Blizzard, "and maybe I'm not. That will be +for later--for January 15th. On that date my soldiers of fortune +will be gathered in New York and told their destiny. I am hoping +that you will be one of the leaders."</p> +<p>"I know nothing of soldiering."</p> +<p>"Your record proves that you are a great hand with a rifle. It +stands to reason that you can teach the trick to others."</p> +<p>"Possibly," said Wilmot, "to a certain extent."</p> +<p>"I have," said Blizzard, "a number of scattered mining interests +in Utah. I wish you to travel among them teaching the men in relays +to shoot accurately and fast. This can be done without greatly +interfering with the working of the mines. You would be nominally +under the command of a man named O'Hagan, to whom I have written a +letter introducing you, on the chance that you might care to use +it."</p> +<p>"Where," said Wilmot smiling, "does the business end of the +affair begin? I'm rotten with debts."</p> +<p>"For teaching my men to shoot," said Blizzard, "I will pay you +the money that you owe me. That's one debt written off."</p> +<p>"And how shall I live in the meanwhile?"</p> +<p>"I have empowered O'Hagan to pay you five hundred dollars a +month."</p> +<p>"And the rest of my debts? How about them?"</p> +<p>"You will fight for down-trodden people," said Blizzard gravely. +"If you win, you will find them grateful--possibly beyond the +dreams of avarice. In the republic of which we are speaking there +is wealth enough for all. It is one of the richest little corners +of God's footstool--gold, diamonds, silver. If you succeed you will +be on Easy Street. If you fail, you will very likely get a bullet +through your head."</p> +<p>Wilmot's face brightened. "If I got killed trying to pay 'em," +said he, "my creditors couldn't feel very nasty toward me, could +they?"</p> +<p>A look of strong admiration came into Blizzard's hard eyes. "I +like the way your mind works," said he. "If you get killed in my +service, I'll pay your debts myself."</p> +<p>"I owe nearly a hundred thousand," said Wilmot.</p> +<p>"I've been worse stung," said Blizzard.</p> +<p>"Where the devil do you get all your money, Blizzard?"</p> +<p>"I've lived for money and power. I've been lucky, clever--and +unscrupulous."</p> +<p>"I like your frankness. But you are not letting me in for +anything rotten?"</p> +<p>"Your Revolutionary ancestors fought against just such forces as +you are to fight against--unjust taxation, abuse of power, and +corruption in high places. Are you going to serve?"</p> +<p>"I'm going it pretty blind, but I think so. I like the idea of +fighting. I like the idea of paying my debts. And at times I think +a bullet in the head would be a matter for +self-congratulation."</p> +<p>"That," said Blizzard, "is the feeling of two classes of young +men--those who are tangled up with women and those who aren't."</p> +<p>Wilmot laughed, though the legless man's words brought the ache +into his heart.</p> +<p>"You will return to New York," Blizzard went on, "during the +first half of January."</p> +<p>"I had rather promised myself to keep out of New York for a +year."</p> +<p>"It will be for only a few days. If you don't wish your presence +in the city known, I'll put you up in my house. Parts of it are as +secret as the grave."</p> +<p>"All right. But supposing the revolution falls through before it +ever gets started?"</p> +<p>"I'll make you a bet," said Blizzard, smiling. "Please reach me +that black check-book." He wrote a check, blotted it, and showed it +to Wilmot. "This," he said, "against a penny! It will pay your +debts. It's payable at the City Bank on January 16th. Put it in +your pocket."</p> +<p>"When do I start for Utah?"</p> +<p>"Wednesday afternoon."</p> +<p>"I hoped to come to your concert that night."</p> +<p>Blizzard shook his head. "You will hear better music," he said, +"in the West--rifles on the ranges. And by the way, don't lose that +hat I gave you. It must be where you can get it on the 15th of +January."</p> +<p>To Wilmot a straw hat suggested the palm-groves of a South +American republic rather than the streets of New York in midwinter, +and he said so; but the legless man only smiled.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="XXIII"></a>XXIII</h2> +<br> +<p>During those last days Barbara and Wilmot were together a great +deal Tuesday morning, by invitation, he watched her at work upon +her bust of Blizzard; afterward he took her to lunch and for a long +drive through Westchester County. That night they dined with Mr. +Ferris, who, immediately after dinner, excused himself, and +withdrew to his laboratory. Wednesday morning Barbara did no work, +but drove about in a taxicab with Wilmot and helped him shop. They +lunched together, and she went to the Grand Central to see him off. +Where Wilmot found the time to pack the things which they had +bought in the morning was always something of a mystery to them +both.</p> +<p>As train-time approached the hearts of both these young people +began to beat very fast. Each felt that the good-bys presently to +be said might be forever. In his resolution not even to write to +Barbara, Wilmot was weakening pitiably. He wished that he had taken +her at her word and married her Monday when she was in the mood. +Better Barbara unloving, he thought, than this terrible emptiness +and aching. His heart was proving stronger than his mind. Short, +more or less conventional phrases were torn from him. Barbara, her +heart beating faster and faster, said very little.</p> +<p>The attention of her wonderful eyes was divided between the +crowds and the station clock. She could see the minute-hand move. +Once in a while she snatched, as it were, a look at Wilmot. His +eyes were never lifted from her face.</p> +<p>The gate for Wilmot's train was suddenly slid wide open with a +horrid, rasping noise, and people began to press upon the man who +examined the tickets. It was then that Barbara's roving and +troubled eyes came to rest, you may say, in Wilmot's, with a look +so sweet, so confiding, so trusting, that it seemed to the young +man that the pain of separation was going to be greater than he +could bear. He lifted his hands as if to take her in his arms, and +stood there like a study in arrested motion.</p> +<p>"Best friend in the world," she said, the great eyes still in +his, "most charming companion in the world--man I've hurt so much +and so often--only say the word."</p> +<p>"What word? That I love you--love you--love you?"</p> +<p>They spoke in whispers.</p> +<p>"Stay with me," she said, "and for me--or take me with you. I +can't bear this. I can't bear it."</p> +<p>"You'd come--now--just as you are?"</p> +<p>"Yes."</p> +<p>"Do you love me?"</p> +<p>Slowly, like two things in anguish, her eyes turned from their +steady gazing into his. And, "I dare not say it," she said, "but I +will go with you--and try."</p> +<p>They were aware of something pressing toward them, and turning +with a common resentment against interruption, they found +themselves looking down upon the legless man.</p> +<p>"Just dropped in to say good-by and wish you good luck," he +said. His face wore a good-natured smile, and, quite innocent of +self-consciousness, brought confusion upon their last moments +together. The tentacles of unreasoning passion that each had been +putting forth were beaten down by it and aside.</p> +<p>"Better get a move on--time's up."</p> +<p>"Good-by, Wilmot," said Barbara swiftly. "Everything's all +right. Good luck to you and God bless you."</p> +<p>She turned, her lovely head drooping, and walked swiftly +away.</p> +<p>A young man took off his hat and held it in his hands until she +had passed. He had been watching her and Wilmot, and incidentally +the legless man, for the last ten minutes. He hoped that she would +look up and speak to him, but her mind was given singly to sorrow. +And she went through the station to the street without knowing if +it was crowded or deserted. Harry West's sad eyes followed her +until she was out of sight. Then with a sort of wrench he turned +once more to observe the actions of the legless man. This one, +however, having said cheerful good-bys to the sulky and heartsick +Wilmot, and having at the same time noted the obtrusive nearness of +the secret-service agent, had made swift use of his crutches and +stumps and was at the moment climbing into a waiting taxicab.</p> +<p>Whatever West's opinion may have been, Blizzard was making a +sufficiently innocent disposition of time. He had prevented an +elopement, perhaps. And he was on his way to a prominent florist to +fill his cab with flowers for the evening's entertainment.</p> +<p>He was in a curiously shy and nervous state of mind. There was +perhaps no man living whose hands were more nearly at home upon the +key-board of a piano, or whose mind was more disdainful of other +people's opinions. But of the fact that he was suffering from +incipient stage fright there could be no doubt whatever. Would this +inoculate his playing, keep the soul out of it? Or worse, would it +cause him to strike wrong notes, and even to forget whole passages, +so that his guests, and of course Barbara, would go away in the +impression that they had heard a boastful person make an ass of +himself? He was almost minded to begin his concert with an +imitation of a virtuoso suffering from stage fright. If there was +going to be laughter, let it be thought that he was not the +irresponsible cause of it, but the deliberate and responsible. What +should he play? Violent things to get his hands in and his courage +up, and then Chopin? Let Chopin speak up on his behalf to Barbara; +tell her how he had suffered; how you must not judge him until you +understood the suffering; how there was still in him a soul that +looked up from the depths, and aspired to beautiful things? Yes, +let Chopin speak to her, plead with her, reason with her, show her, +lead her.</p> +<p>He descended from the cab, and entered the florist's.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="XXIV"></a>XXIV</h2> +<br> +<p>Barbara paid Blizzard the compliment of inviting only people who +were really fond of music to hear him play. The Braces, Adrian +Savage, Blythe the architect, young Morton Haddon, and Barbara +herself, composed the party. They dined on a roof, and then, +occupying two taxicabs, started for Marrow Lane in the highest +spirits. But the East Side had its way with them, and they reached +their destination in a serious mood, ashamed, perhaps, of being +rich and fortunate, unhappy at feeling themselves envied and hated. +Bruce, Adrian Savage, and Barbara were in the leading cab, a +brand-new one smelling of leather, and of the gardenia which +Barbara was wearing. The filth of the East Side came no nearer to +them than the tires of the cab. They were, you may say, insulated, +enfortressed against squalor, poverty, crime, and discontent. They +were almost free to do as they pleased, as indeed their expedition +proved, and yet, such is the natural charity of the human heart, +they could not look from the windows of the cab and remain +untroubled, or fail to understand a little of those motives which +turn the minds of the unfortunate to thoughts of anarchy. There was +no whole tragedy unrolled before their eyes, not even a completed +episode in one. It so happened that they saw no one in tears or in +liquor; on the contrary, they saw many who laughed, many children +playing games with and tricks upon one another. Yet in its mirth +the region was mirthless; its energy was not physical, but nervous. +It had an air of living intensely in the present, for fear of +remembering, for fear of looking ahead. And it needed but a +misunderstanding or a catchword to turn in a moment from recreation +to violence. Indeed, the mere fact of their own passing in the +highly polished cab with its wake of burned gas and Havana tobacco +turned many a smile into a scowl or a jeer.</p> +<p>Often the driver throttled his car to a snail's pace or brought +it to a full stop to avoid running over one of those children who, +so far as self-preservation goes, appear to be deaf, dumb, blind, +and without powers of locomotion; and during one of these halts a +little girl, walking slowly backward, her eyes upon another little +girl who for no apparent cause was making a series of malevolent +faces at her, collided with one of the tires and fell on her back +directly in front of the stationary car. Instantly she began to +screech, and the street, hitherto but scatteringly occupied, filled +with raging people.</p> +<p>The driver from his seat, Bruce from one window, Savage from the +other, attempted to explain to deaf ears. Their voices were drowned +in a torrent of abuse.</p> +<p>Barbara, at first only exasperated by the stupidity of the +crowd, sitting very still and erect, had upon her face that +expression of bored contempt with which aristocrats in the French +Revolution are said to have gone to the guillotine. Then that was +shouted in her ear which, though but half, understood, turned her +scarlet with anger. Unfortunately Savage, hitherto patiently +self-controlled, had heard the compounded epithet hurled at +Barbara, and in a moment his fighting blood was beyond control, and +he was out of the cab raining heavy blows upon a bloated +chalky-white face, and receiving worse than he gave from a dozen +fists and feet. Strong as a bull, always in training, his strength +was beaten and kicked from him in twenty seconds, and with Bruce +and the driver--who, bravely enough, if reluctantly, had leaped to +his assistance--things were no better.</p> +<p>A whistling, shrill and metallic, brought the fight to a sudden +end. The crowd drew back sullen and reluctant, no longer shouting +and cursing, but muttering, explaining, and discreet.</p> +<p>Barbara took from her lips the whistle which Kid Shannon had +given her. She was very white, but her eyes blazed with the light +of success and power. The bringing of the whistle had been an +accident, the blowing it an act of desperation: but perceiving the +sudden effect of that blowing she could not but feel that she had +done something strategically good and in the nick of time. Savage +began to straighten his collar and necktie, Bruce to nurse a +sprained thumb. The second cab came up. Ely the and Morton Haddon +got out and, full of perplexity but not unamused, fell to asking +questions of their dishevelled friends. These, winded and bruised, +could give but an ejaculatory explanation, mostly of what they +would do to such and such a one if they could isolate him from his +fellow cutthroats for five minutes; and Blythe and Haddon, not +bruised and winded, told them to pull themselves together. +Meanwhile the crowd had disintegrated before the possible arrival +of Kid Shannon; had vanished like a lump of sugar in a cup of tea. +Even the little child who had been the cause of the uproar had +disappeared. So a colony of prairie-dogs vanishes into its burrows +at the shadow of a hawk.</p> +<p>The short street was deserted save for the figure of a rapidly +approaching policeman. Why this guardian of the peace had not been +upon his beat during the fracas could have been best explained +perhaps by the proprietor of a disorderly house, from whom at the +time he had been levying a weekly stipend of lust money and a glass +of beer. For his lapse of duty, however, he made such amends as +were possible. In short, he took the numbers of both taxicabs, the +names of their occupants, and told them, with stern condescension, +that they were now at liberty to pursue their interrupted way.</p> +<p>But first Barbara received praise for having blown the whistle, +and Bruce and Savage were made to say repeatedly that they insisted +on going on with the evening's entertainment; that they were not +really hurt, and that they wouldn't think of being driven to a +doctor. Everybody wanted to know more about Kid Shannon, and in +just what consisted the terror and efficacy of his name. But +Barbara could only say that he was a friend of hers, and a sort of +henchman of their host for the evening. Then she said, smiling:</p> +<p>"I'm sorry he didn't come himself, but anyway his whistle is a +perfectly good whistle, and another time I'll know enough to blow +it before anybody gets hurt."</p> +<p>Mrs. Bruce insisted on having her husband ride with her, so +Blythe took his place in Barbara's cab, and they reached Marrow +Lane without further molestation. Indeed, it seemed as if rumor had +gone ahead of them, saying that they were not as other swells, but +East-Siders in disguise, integral parts of the master's +organization, armed with the whistle of his lieutenant. They were +stared at, it is true, and commented upon, but with awe now and +childish admiration.</p> +<p>The door of Blizzard's house was opened for them by Kid +Shannon.</p> +<p>"Why, Mr. Shannon," exclaimed Barbara, "I blew your whistle, and +you never came."</p> +<p>"And wasn't the whistling enough?"</p> +<p>"Why, yes."</p> +<p>He smiled the smile of a general who knows that his troops are +in a state of perfect discipline. "The boss is expecting you," he +said. "Please step right in."</p> +<p>A faint odor of roses greeted them.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="XXV"></a>XXV</h2> +<br> +<p>One light, not strong, illuminated the legless man's face. +Barbara and her friends sat in half-darkness. Kid Shannon went out +of the room on tiptoe, closing the door softly behind him. Of Rose, +crouched under the key-board of the grand piano, her hands on the +pedals, nothing could be seen, owing to a grouping of small palms +and flowers in pots. The stump of Blizzard's right leg touched her +shoulder. She was trembling. So was Blizzard. He was trembling with +stage fright; she with Blizzard fright. His hands, thick with agile +muscles and heavy as hams, though he had just been soaking them in +hot water, seemed powerless to him, and stiff.</p> +<p>He struck a chord, and it sounded to him not like the voices of +a musical instrument, but like a clattering together of tin dishes. +This enraged him. His self-consciousness vanished. Those ivory keys +and well-tempered wires had fooled him. He hated his piano. And he +began to punish it. The heavy hands, rising and falling with the +speed and strength of lightning strokes, produced a volume of tone +which perhaps no other player in the world could have equalled.</p> +<p>Blythe, a great amateur of music, had come in a sceptical mood. +He now sat more erect, his face, eyebrows raised, turned to +Blizzard, his ears recalling to him certain moments of Rubinstein's +playing.</p> +<p>But Blizzard no longer hated his piano. It had stood up nobly to +his assault. It was a brave instrument, well-bred, a friend full of +rare qualities--for a friend to show off. And, the swollen veins in +his forehead flattening, he began to make his peace with his piano. +It could do more than shout and rage. It could sing like an angel +in all languages; it could be witty, humorous, heart-rending, +heart-healing, chaste, passionate, helpful, mischievous. And it +could be wise and eloquent. It could stand up for a friend, and +explain his sins away, and get him forgiven in high places.</p> +<p>And even as Blizzard thought, so he played. He was no longer +conscious of himself or his guests, not even of Barbara. As for +Rose, she was merely a set of pedals in perfect mechanical +adjustment. He was not even conscious of his thoughts. They came +and went without deliberation, and were expressed as they came and +dismissed as they went in the terms of his extraordinary +improvisation.</p> +<p>But it came to this at last, that he thought only of beautiful +things, so that even his face was stripped of wickedness, and his +fingers loosed one by one the voices of angels, until it seemed as +if the whole room was full of them--all singing. And the singing +died away to silence.</p> +<p>The legless man looked straight ahead of him into the dim room. +Then, smiling, his head a little on one side, he caressed his piano +so that it gave out Chopin's 7th Prelude, which, as all the world +knows, is a little girl who smiles because she is happy; and she is +happy because so many of the flowers in the garden are blue. It is +not known why this makes her happy, only that it does.</p> +<p>And forthwith he played Chopin and only Chopin: brooks and pools +of sound to which you did not listen, but in which you bathed. And +in his soul the legless man was playing only for Barbara, and only +to Barbara. And so powerful was this obsession that it stole out of +him like some hypnotic influence, affected the others, and gave him +away. First Blythe looked toward Barbara, not realizing why, then +Haddon looked, then Mrs. Bruce.</p> +<p>Barbara felt the warm blood in her cheeks. She was troubled, +unhappy, touched. A man, his face full of unhappy yearning, his +soul quick with genius, was making love to her; asking her to +forget his shortcomings, to forgive his sins, to give him a hand +upward out of the dark places into the light. He followed her, +always pleading, by brooks, into valleys, through flowery meadows +in the early morning, into solemn churches, into groves of cypress +flooded with moonlight.</p> +<br> +<a name="page210-211.jpg"></a> +<p class="ctr"><img src="images/page210-211.jpg" width="95%" alt= +""><br> +<b>And in his soul the legless man was playing only for +Barbara.</b></p> +<br> +<p>Blythe could have sworn that a woman sobbed, but his eyes, used +by now to the obscurity, told him that it was neither Mrs. Bruce +nor Barbara. The piano burst into a storm of sound, under cover of +which Rose, still at her post, torn with jealousy, continued to +pedal at the direction of her lord and master, and sobbed as if her +heart would break. Devils filled the room, whirling in mad dances; +they screamed and yelled; the souls of the damned screeched in +torment; and the face of him who invoked the inferno, swollen, +streaming with sweat, the eyes glazed, protruding, was the face of +a madman.</p> +<p>Rose, for whom her master's playing had the eloquence and +precision of speech, forgot her jealousy in fear of those +consequences which her ill-timed sobbing must bring upon her. Her +tears dried as in a desert wind; her sobs ceased, and in a moment +or two the madness was going out of Blizzard's music and out of his +face. He rested, preluded, and then began to play Beethoven, +quietly, with a pure singing tone, music of a heavenly sanity.</p> +<p>The jarred feelings of his audience were soothed. Into his own +face there stole a high-priest look. And when he had finished +playing, this look remained for a few moments. Then he laughed +quietly and, speaking for the first time, expressed the hope that +he had not made them listen too long.</p> +<p>He reached for the wall behind him, and turned a switch so that +the room became brightly lighted. Then, reluctantly, he came out +from behind the piano, swinging between his crutches, and leaving +Rose to escape at the first favorable opportunity. His descent from +colossus to cripple had an unpleasant effect. And the question, +"How the deuce do you work the pedals?" was jerked from Blythe, +usually a most tactful person.</p> +<p>"Why," said Blizzard simply, "I have an assistant." He caught +Barbara's eye and reddened a little. "A young man who is musical +and intelligent. We have a system of signals, and--but I think +there is a sort of thought communication that comes of much +rehearsing together. And in our best moments we do pretty well. But +sometimes when our minds are not tuned together we make a dreadful +hash of things."</p> +<p>He might have added: "At such times I drag her about by the hair +and beat her." But he didn't. He looked instead the picture of a +very patient man who makes the best of things.</p> +<p>"Whatever you do at times," said Barbara gently, "you have done +wonders to-night. But you know better than we do how good your +playing is. So what is the use of praising it--to you?"</p> +<p>She felt that he was her own private discovery--almost her +property. And knowing that her friends were still profoundly +affected by his playing, she was filled with honest pride. Her eyes +flashed, her cheeks glowed.</p> +<p>"What did I tell you?" she exclaimed. "Was I right? Didn't I +promise that he would make good? Did he?"</p> +<p>She was delighted with Blizzard, delighted with herself, +delighted with the whole party. She had forgotten the madman face +that he had showed. She forgot that he was a cripple, a thing +soured and wicked. She thought of him only as a great genius, which +she herself had discovered.</p> +<p>The childlike pleasure which she felt communicated itself to the +others, and Blizzard, escaping an ovation of honest praise, led +them into the next room, where, among palms and roses, such a +supper was spread as gamblers, the big men of the profession, +spread for their victims.</p> +<p>The mere sight of the champagne-glasses loosened the men's +tongues. Talk flowed. Mrs. Bruce and Barbara, seated right and left +of their host, made much of his music and his hospitality. For once +in his life he was genuinely happy. He looked very handsome, very +high-minded, very modest, a man's man. Sitting, he was much taller +than the others. You forgot that, standing, he was but a dwarf. He +towered at the head of his table, his mind working in swift, +good-natured, hospitable flashes. It was obvious that he had been +born a gentleman, and that he had never "forgotten how." It was +obvious, too, that he was a man of power and position, who when he +wished could spend money like a great lord, and who was accustomed +to give orders.</p> +<p>In his manner to Barbara there was (perhaps noticeable only to +herself) an air of long-proved friendship and a kind of guardianly +tenderness, and he managed somehow to convey to her that she had an +immense influence over him; that he looked to her for help--for +inspiration.</p> +<p>The desire to make a great man of him invaded her mind. Her +heart warmed toward him.</p> +<p>"I wonder," said Bruce suddenly, "where our wandering Wilmot is +to-night?"</p> +<p>"I drink to him," said the beggar quickly, "wherever he is, and +wish him luck."</p> +<p>But the poison had been spilled on Barbara's evening. For three +hours she had not once thought of the man whom twelve hours ago she +had really wanted to marry. And her heart meanwhile had warmed and +expanded toward one who at best was a prodigiously successful crook +and rascal, and she was ashamed. But for all that neither the +warmth nor the triumphant sense of influence and conquest went out +of her heart. And later, when Mrs. Bruce said: "I really think we +ought to go," Barbara, outwardly all sweetness and agreement, was +inwardly annoyed. She wanted very much to stay, for she knew that +the moment she was alone her conscience would give her no peace, +and that she would make resolutions which she would not, judging +from past experiences, be able to keep. She would resolve to +abandon her bust of Blizzard, resolve never to see the creature +again, since it seemed that he had in him power upon her +emotions--dangerous power.</p> +<p>"Do we work to-morrow, Miss Ferris?"</p> +<p>The words, "No, I'm afraid not to-morrow," rose to her lips. The +words, "<i>Please,</i> at the usual time," came out.</p> +<p>And she felt as if his will, not her own, had caused her to say +those words. Her heart gave a sudden leap of fear.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="XXVI"></a>XXVI</h2> +<br> +<p>Barbara knew very well that she was doing wrong. Summer had +descended, blazing, upon the city. Without exception her friends +had gone to the country. Her father had gone to Colorado upon an +errand of which for the present he chose to make a mystery. She +made a habit of lunching at the Colony Club, and occasionally saw +some friend or other who had run into town for a face massage, a +hair wave, a gown, or a hat. But the afternoons and evenings hung +very heavily upon her hands. So that she got to living in and for +her mornings at the studio. With the appearance of Blizzard, clean, +thoughtful, and forceful, her feelings of loneliness and depression +vanished. If her vitality was at low ebb, his was not. The heat +appeared to brace him, and he had the faculty of communicating +something of his own energy, so that it was not until she had +finished working and dismissed him that she was sensible of fatigue +and discouragement.</p> +<p>The man was on his best behavior. He could not but realize that +he had established an influence over her; that she was beginning to +take him at his own estimate of himself, and to believe in his +pretended aspirations. And while he credited her with no affection +for himself, he had the presumption to imagine that his maimed +condition and his low station in life no longer made the slightest +difference to her, and that finally her friendliness would turn +into a warmer feeling. But if not, he had but to wait until the +maturity of his plans should throw the city into chaos, when she +would be at his mercy.</p> +<p>The hand which he had dealt himself was so full of high cards +that the occasional losing of a trick did not disturb him in the +slightest. He had through her father's hideous mistake a hold on +Barbara's conscience. As a personage whose power over certain +sections of the city was stronger than the law, he had a hold upon +her imagination. As the inspirer of her best work, he had a hold +upon her gratitude. He had, or thought he had, a chance to win her +affection in open and equal competition. And, highest card of +all--ace of trumps--he had persuaded her that her influence upon +him was such that with all the strength of remorse he was shaping +his life toward high ideals.</p> +<p>In his heart she was usually, but not always, the first +consideration. Sometimes the passion of ambition overlapped the +passion of love. And sometimes he felt that he would forego the +fruition of all his plans if only by some miracle his legs could be +restored to him.</p> +<p>But on the whole, he had reached a high-water mark of +self-satisfaction. He had found it easy to carry corruption into +high places. A list of those who were in his power--willing or +unwilling--would have horrified the whole nation. From O'Hagan in +the West came reports that all went well with the organization, and +that Wilmot Allen was displaying genius in teaching inexperienced +Polacks to shoot.</p> +<p>On his walks through the city the legless man carried a high +head, and looked about him with the eye of a landlord. His +imagination was so strong that he had already the feelings of a +genuine conqueror, and not of a man confronted by the awful +possibilities of failure. And by some subtlety of mental +communication Barbara was coming more and more into this same +opinion of him. And in realizing this, and in allowing their +relations to continue, she knew that she was doing wrong.</p> +<p>She compared her model with all the men she had known, always to +conclude that there was in him a sort of greatness utterly wanting +in the others. If he had revealed his plans to her, she would have +believed him not only capable of carrying them out, but sure to do +so--if he wished. He might be Satan fallen, but he was still a god. +In the early days of their association she had felt herself the +important person of the two, and her bust of him the most important +thing in the world. He and she would surely die, but the bust had a +chance to live. But now she had the feeling that the work was of +less importance than the man; and that she herself was an +insignificant spoiled person of no importance whatever. When +Blizzard entered the studio she had the feeling that a great and +busy man was, out of pure good nature, wasting his time upon an +unknown artist. But she knew very well that such was not the case. +She knew that he came to the studio because she attracted him, and +for no other reason. And at times she felt keenly curious to know +just how much she attracted him, and the morbid wish, for which she +hated herself, of leading him into some sort of a declaration.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="XXVII"></a>XXVII</h2> +<br> +<p>However unnecessary the hot waves of the New York summer may +appear to some people, they were never wasted on Bubbles. He had a +passion for the water, and to his love of swimming was added a +passion for the underworld gossip with which the piers of the East +River reek in bathing weather. For just as mice are more intimate +with the details of houses than landlords are, so the small boys of +a city have the best opportunities for being acquainted with its +workings, and with the intimate lives of its inhabitants. The +street-boy's mind matures while his body is still that of a child. +Births and deaths are familiar spectacles to him. He knows and +holds of high import hundreds of things which men have forgotten. +He can see in the dark. He can hide in a handful of shadow. And +when he isn't overhearing on his own hook, he is listening to what +somebody else has overheard. Second-story men fear him, lovers +loathe him, and nature, who has been thwarted in her intention that +he should run in sweet meadows, sleep in fresh air, and bathe in +clean water, sighs over him.</p> +<p>It was so hot that the policeman whose duty and privilege it was +to see that no small boy cooled himself from Pier 31A, disappeared +tactfully into the family entrance of a water-front saloon. The +city had many laws which to this particular officer appeared +unreasonable and which he enforced only when he couldn't help +himself. In men there is the need of gambling and some other +things. As for small boys, they <i>must</i> play baseball and they +<i>must</i> swim.</p> +<p>Bubbles went overboard at about three o'clock. There were twenty +or thirty boys of all sizes already in the water, and the addition +of one to the struggling group of wet heads was not to be noticed. +Nor was the disappearance of that head noticed, nor the fact that +it appeared to remain under water for nearly three-quarters of an +hour, nor that when it finally did emerge it looked on the whole as +if it had seen a ghost.</p> +<p>Bubbles, it seems, was less interested in the waters around Pier +31A than in the waters underneath. And for this reason: on the +previous night, while stripping for a swim, he had heard a muffled +sound of voices coming from directly under the pier, followed by a +long subdued roaring as of a load of earth being emptied into the +water. Now, under Harry West's tuition Bubbles had formed the habit +of investigating whatever he did not understand. And he wished very +much to find out why people should talk under piers at night, how +they could get under Pier 31A except by swimming, and <i>if</i> +they were throwing earth overboard <i>why</i> they were doing so, +and where they got the earth.</p> +<p>His head filled with vague and highly colored notions of a +smugglers' cave, his narrow lungs filled with air, Bubbles dove, +swam between two slimy barnacled piles, and came up presently in a +dark, dank, stale, gurgling region, wonderfully cool after the +blazing sunlight which he had just left.</p> +<p>Toward the shore the light that filtered between the supporting +piles of Pier 31A became less and less, until completely shut off +by walls of solid masonry. Into this darkness Bubbles swam with +great caution, accustoming his eyes to the obscurity and holding +himself ready to dive in retreat at the first alarm.</p> +<p>The shore end of Pier 31A had originally been a clean wall of +solid masonry. The removal of half a dozen great blocks of stone +had made a jagged opening in the midst of this, and into this +opening, pulling himself a little out of the water, Bubbles +strained and strained his eyes and saw nothing but the beginning of +a passageway and then pitch darkness.</p> +<p>His heart beat very hard and fast like the heart of a caught +bird. Here, leading into the city from the shore of the East River, +was a mysterious passageway. Who had made it and why? There were +two ways of finding out. One was to wait patiently until some one +entered the passage or emerged from it. The other way, and the +better, was to forget how very much the idea of so doing frightened +you, climb into the opening, and follow the passage to its other +end. Bubbles compromised. He waited patiently for half an hour. +Nothing happened. Then he pulled himself into the opening and +crawled through the darkness for perhaps the length of a city +block.</p> +<p>"What," he then said to himself, "is the use of me going any +further? I can't see in the dark. I've got no matches, and if +anything happens to me, there'll be nobody to tell Harry about this +place. Better make a get-away now, find Harry, and bring him here +to-night. Then if we find anybody there'll be something doing."</p> +<p>He had turned and was crawling rather rapidly toward the +entrance of the passage.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="XXVIII"></a>XXVIII</h2> +<br> +<p>Bubble's problem was to locate Harry West. And he wrestled with +it, if trying to cover the whole of a scorching hot city on a pair +of insufficient legs and a very limited amount of carfare may be +called wrestling. His search took him into many odd places where +you could not have expected to cross the trail of an honest man. He +even made inquiries of a master-plumber, of a Fourth Avenue vender +of antiques, of a hairy woman with one eye who ran a news-stand, of +a bar-tender, of saloon-keepers and bootblacks. He drifted through +a department store, and whispered to a pretty girl who sold "art +pictures." She shook her head. He spoke a word to the negro +sentinel of a house in the West Forties, and was admitted to quiet, +padded rooms, containing everything which is necessary to separate +hopeful persons from their money. In one room a number of +book-makers were whiling away the hot afternoon with poker for +small stakes. In another room, played upon by an electric fan, sat +Mr. Lichtenstein, the proprietor. He was bent over a table on which +he had assembled fifteen or twenty of the component parts of a very +large picture-puzzle. He was small, plump and earnest. He may have +been a Jew, but he had bright red hair and a pug nose. His eyes, +bright, quick, small, brown, and kind, were very busy hunting among +the brightly colored pieces of the puzzle.</p> +<p>"'Dafternoon, Mr. Liechtenstein," said Bubbles.</p> +<p>"'Dafternoon, Bubbles," said Mr. Lichtenstein, without looking +up.</p> +<p>"How d'je know it was me?"</p> +<p>"I saw you in the looking-glass. What's the news?"</p> +<p>"It's for Harry."</p> +<p>"And Harry is--where?"</p> +<p>"Don't you know where Harry is?"</p> +<p>"I do. But you can't get to him." Mr. Lichtenstein lowered his +voice. "He's gone West, Bub, on the trail of O'Hagan. The plant the +old one is growing hasn't put its head above ground yet, and the +roots are in the West. Out in Utah they're teaching all kinds of +Polacks to shoot rifles. Why? O'Hagan is travelling from one mine +to another as a common laborer. Why? While here in little New York, +the old one is sitting for his portrait and getting a perfectly +innocent young girl talked about. No use to watch the old one till +later."</p> +<p>"But," said Bubbles, "suppose some one was to find a secret +passage leading from the East River to--to--"</p> +<p>"To where?"</p> +<p>"He doesn't know where. He wanted to get Harry to go with him to +find out."</p> +<p>"Where does the passage begin, Bubbles?"</p> +<p>"Under Pier 31 A."</p> +<br> +<a name="page224.jpg"></a> +<p class="ctr"><img src="images/page224.jpg" width="50%" alt= +""><br> +<b>"'Dafternoon, Mr. Lichtenstein," said Bubbles.</b></p> +<br> +<p>"Come over here, Bub," said Mr. Lichtenstein and led the way to +a mahogany table covered with green baize. Upon this he spread a +folding-map of New York City that he took from his inside pocket. +With the rapidity of thought his stubby forefinger found Pier 31A +and passed from it to the crook in Marrow Lane. And he said:</p> +<p>"Hum! The bee-line of it leads straight to Blizzard's place. +There are two things to find out, Bub. Is the passage straight? And +how long is it? A light in the entrance to sight by will answer +question No. 1, and a ball of twine to be unwound at leisure will +answer No. 2."</p> +<p>"You'd ought to have a compass," Bubbles suggested, "to know +just how she runs."</p> +<p>"True," said Mr. Lichtenstein. "Happy thought. And you could +borrow one mounted in tiger's eye from a friend."</p> +<p>He laughed, took the little compass in question from its watch +chain, and gave it to Bubbles. Then, his voice losing its bantering +tone and taking on a kind of faltering sincerity, he asked:</p> +<p>"Do you want to play this hand, Bubbles, or do you want me to +delegate some one else?"</p> +<p>"It's my graft," said Bubbles, "I'd like to see it through."</p> +<p>Mr. Lichtenstein looked upon the boy with a certain pride and +tenderness. "I'd like to go with you," he said, "but I can't run +<i>any</i> risks. There's the strings of too many things in my +head. In every battle there has to be a general who sits on a hill +out of danger and orders other people to do brave things. Remember +that you've worked for us ever since Harry came in and said, +laughing, 'Governor, I've made friends with a bright baby that +knows how to keep his mouth shut,' You've only to step up to +Blizzard and say, 'Abe Lichtenstein is the head,' to bring the +gun-men down on me. But you'd die first."</p> +<p>The boy's breast swelled with pride and martial ardor. "Betcher +life," he said, and then: "If I get the news will I bring it +here?"</p> +<p>Mr. Lichtenstein considered for a minute. Then shook his head. +"I'll be in Blicker's drug-store between 'leven and midnight," he +said.</p> +<p>"If I don't show up it'll be because I can't."</p> +<p>Mr. Lichtenstein smiled encouragingly. "Don't look on the dark +side of the future," he said, "but don't take any chances, and +don't show a light till you have to."</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="XXIX"></a>XXIX</h2> +<br> +<p>The night was hot, but the rising tide had brought in cold water +from the ocean, and what with his excitement and trepidation it was +a very shivery small boy that began to investigate the passage +under Pier 31A. Mindful of Mr. Lichtenstein's advice not to show a +light till he had to, Bubbles felt his way forward very slowly in +the inky darkness, unrolling, as he went, a huge ball of twine. It +would be time to take the bearings of the place by compass when he +had ascertained its general extent and whether it was free from +human occupants. On this score he felt comparatively safe, since it +seemed likely that the passage had been constructed with a view to +emergency rather than daily use.</p> +<p>Having advanced a distance of about three short city blocks, it +seemed to Bubbles as if the passage had opened suddenly into a +room. If so, he had to thank instinct for the knowledge, since he +could see but an inch in the blackness. He had the feeling that +walls were no longer passing near him, and, groping cautiously this +way and that, he found it to be fact and not fancy. During these +gropings he lost his sense of direction, and, after considering the +matter at some length, he concluded that the time had come to flash +his torch. But first he listened for a long time. At last, +satisfied that he was alone, his thumb began to press against the +switch of his torch. A shaft of light bored into the darkness, and +he saw two wildly bearded men, who sat with their backs against a +wall of living rock and looked straight at him.</p> +<p>It was as if he had been suddenly frozen solid, so dreadful was +his surprise and horror, but the men with the wild heads showed no +emotion. They had a pale, tired, hopeless look; and though one was +dark and one blond, this expression, common to both, gave them an +appearance of being twin brothers. They had gentle soft eyes in +which was no sign of surprise or agitation. It seemed as if they +were perfectly accustomed to having light suddenly flashed into +them. One of the men leaned forward and began to run his hand this +way and that over the hard dirt floor.</p> +<p>"Lost something?" said the other suddenly.</p> +<p>"Dropped my plug," said the first in a dull weary voice, and he +continued to feel for and repeatedly just miss a half-cake of +chewing-tobacco. Bubbles could see it distinctly, and another thing +was clear to him: the men were both blind.</p> +<p>With this knowledge certain frayed and tattered fragments of +courage returned to him, and, what was of much greater importance, +his presence of mind.</p> +<p>The excavation in which he stood was nearly forty feet square. +His torch showed him the passage by which he had entered, and +opposite this a flight of steps leading sharply upward. Here and +there, leaning against the walls, were picks and shovels and other +tools used in excavating. Near the centre of the passage was a tall +pile of dirt and loose stones, together with two small wheelbarrows +of sheet-iron.</p> +<p>Just as Bubbles had ascertained these facts and got himself into +a much calmer state of mind, he had a fresh thrill of horror. The +two blind men sighed, and as if moved by a common impulse got up, +and the little boy saw that, like Blizzard, the beggar, they had no +legs. With perfect accuracy of direction they turned to the great +pile of dirt, and taking up two shovels which leaned against it +began to fill the two little wheelbarrows.</p> +<p>They labored slowly as if time was of no moment, as if the work +in hand was a form of punishment instead of something that it was +intended to complete.</p> +<p>Bubbles had begun to wonder what they were going to do with the +dirt, when one of them, having filled his barrow, trundled off with +it into the passageway leading to the river. And to Bubbles, +feverishly listening, there came after what seemed a very long +interval a sound as of earth being dumped into water.</p> +<p>The second excavator, having filled his barrow, waited the +return of his companion, since the passage was too narrow to admit +of the two barrows meeting and passing each other.</p> +<p>And that simple fact was very alarming to Bubbles, since +virtually it made a prisoner of him. One man with his barrow full +or empty was always in the passage.</p> +<p>Nor was there any possibility of escape by the flight of stairs +which he had noticed, for a hurried examination revealed a door of +sheet-iron which did not give to his most determined efforts. There +was nothing for it but to wait until the blind men should rest from +their labors.</p> +<p>He got used to them gradually; lost his fear of them. Once in a +while they spoke to each other, always with a kind of lugubrious +gentleness in their voices. He began to feel sorry for them. He +wished to be of service to them in some way or other. Their wild +beards and shaggy, matted hair no longer terrified him. They were +two lambs made up to represent wolves, but the merest child must +have seen through the disguisement.</p> +<p>Upon the ball of twine which Bubbles still held in his hand +there was a sudden tug. It fell to the ground with a thump and +rolled toward the blind laborer who had just filled his barrow. He +was much startled and turned his blind eyes this way and that; then +called to his mate, at that moment coming from the passageway.</p> +<p>"I heard something drop," he said; "somebody dropped something. +I thought I heard steps on the stairs, and now I know I did."</p> +<p>But the other had found the twine lying the length of the +passage. "Some one's come in from the river," he said, "and dropped +all this string,"</p> +<p>He began to gather it in, hand over hand, paused suddenly, and +then, with a kind of bravado of terrified politeness, and with a +bob of his wild, dark head, exclaimed:</p> +<p>"Good evening, Mr. Blizzard!"</p> +<p>Then the pair cowered as if they expected to be struck, and +after a long while the blond one said:</p> +<p>"It ain't him."</p> +<p>Then the dark one:</p> +<p>"Don't be scared of us. We couldn't hurt a fly if we wanted to. +Who is it?"</p> +<p>Now it seemed to Bubbles all of a sudden (though the mention of +Blizzard's name had once more given him the horrors) that any risk +run in revealing his presence to the blind men was more than +compensated by the consequent possibility of "finding out things" +from them. So he said:</p> +<p>"It's only me--just a boy. I found this hole swimmin' and come +in to see what it was for."</p> +<p>"It's only a boy," said the blond man.</p> +<p>"He wouldn't hurt us," said the dark one.</p> +<p>"Maybe you'll tell me what all this cellar work is for," said +Bubbles.</p> +<p>The dark man scratched his matted head. "We don't know," he +said; "we was just put in here to dig. At first there was ten of +us; but we was kep' on to give the finishin' touches."</p> +<p>"What became of the others?"</p> +<p>"Oh, Mr. Blizzard, he's got other work for them."</p> +<p>"Is this place under his house?"</p> +<p>"No, sir, it ain't. But the cellar at the head of them steps +is."</p> +<p>"Maybe he's hollered this out to hide things in?"</p> +<p>The blind men turned toward each other and nodded their +heads.</p> +<p>"That's just presactly what we think," said the blond one.</p> +<p>"What do you do when you aren't working?"</p> +<p>"Oh, we sleeps and eats in Blizzard's cellar."</p> +<p>"How long you been on the job?"</p> +<p>"We don't know. We lost track."</p> +<p>"See much of Blizzard?"</p> +<p>"Oh, he's in and out, just to keep things going."</p> +<p>"Is the passage to the river just to get rid of the dirt?"</p> +<p>The dark man laughed sheepishly. "We don't think so," he +said--"we gets lots of time to think. And it ain't always dirt that +goes into the river. Twicet it's been men, and once it were a +woman. There was lead pipe wrapped round the bodies to make 'em +sink. And oncet Blizzard he tumbled a girl down the stairs to us. +But she weren't dead, and me and Bill took the lead off her before +we throwed her in."</p> +<p>His comrade interrupted. "She said she could swim. She said if +we'd take the lead off and untie her and give her a chanst, we +could have a kiss apiece. But we let her go fer nothin'."</p> +<p>"Did she get away?" Bubbles was tremendously interested.</p> +<p>"No, sir. It was dark night, and she couldn't find a way out +from under the wharf. She just swam round and round, slower and +slower, like a mouse in a wash-tub. Then she calls out she'll come +back and we can hide her till daylight. But she don't make it We +has to stand there and listen to her drown."</p> +<p>"When she's dead she gets out into the open river, and when +Blizzard hears she's been found without any lead on her he raises +hell."</p> +<p>"When he gets through with us we was most skinned alive."</p> +<p>"He wouldn't dig that hole to the river," said Bubbles, "just to +get rid of people. What do you think it's for?"</p> +<p>"You ain't goin' to tell Blizzard you been here, nor get us in +trouble?"</p> +<p>"I'll get you out of this some day, but you can't get in no +trouble through me."</p> +<p>"Then," said the blond man, "this is what we thinks out and +concludes: Blizzard he's calculatin' to receive stolen goods +wholesale. First he stores 'em in here until this cellar is full, +and then he takes 'em down to the river and puts 'em aboard a ship +bound fur furrin' ports, and we thinks and concludes that he'll +make his get-away about the same time."</p> +<p>"Well," said Bubbles, "I'm obliged. I won't forget your +kindness. But it's time I was off."</p> +<p>"Come close first," said the blond man.</p> +<p>Bubbles was instantly alarmed. "Why?"</p> +<p>"Only so's we can feel your face, so's to know what you look +like."</p> +<p>He stood impatient and embarrassed while they pawed his face +with hard, grimy hands.</p> +<p>At last they let him go, he whose barrow was full accompanying +him to the end of the passageway, and speeding him on his way with +this comfortable remark:</p> +<p>"If you was to dive deep and feel around, you might find those +as is leaded to the bottom."</p> +<p>It took every ounce of nerve that Bubbles had at command to let +his legs and body slip down into the cold and tragic current. It +seemed certain that dead hands were reaching for him. But he +screwed his courage up to the sticking point, and called to his +acquaintance in the passage-mouth a whispered but nonchalant, +"S'long!"</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="XXX"></a>XXX</h2> +<br> +<p>When Bubbles entered Blicker's drug-store, the city clocks were +striking a quarter to twelve, but the place was still brightly +lighted, and at the soda-counter a young man was treating his flame +to a glass of chocolate vanilla ice-cream.</p> +<p>Bubbles marched to the prescription counter, and began to unwrap +a bloody handkerchief from his left hand. Then he began to clear +his throat. This brought Mr. Blicker from a region of mortar +pestles, empty pill-boxes, and glass retorts.</p> +<p>"What you want?" he asked aggressively.</p> +<p>"I want me thumb bandaged."</p> +<p>"You cut him--eh?"</p> +<p>Bubbles lowered his voice. "On a barnacle."</p> +<p>"Come in back here," said Mr. Blicker roughly. "I fix him." But +once out of sight in the depths of the store, his manner changed, +and he patted Bubbles enthusiastically on the back. "You have found +out some things?"</p> +<p>"Sure--lots."</p> +<p>The chemist, without commenting, began to treat the cut thumb, +washing, disinfecting, and bandaging. Then, very loud, for the +benefit perhaps of the lovers at the soda-counter, "So," he said, +"I let you out the back door."</p> +<p>And he actually opened a door, slammed it shut, and turned a key +in the lock. But it was a closet door. Then with a finger on his +lips he pointed to a narrow staircase and, his own feet making a +great tramping, led the way up it. Upon the top steps they found +Mr. Lichtenstein, nervously puffing clouds of tobacco smoke,</p> +<p>"'Bout given you up," he said. "Good boy!"</p> +<p>"Better talk by the parlor," said Blicker; "here is too +exposed."</p> +<p>When the door of the stuffy little parlor had closed behind +them, the proprietor began to smile and beam. But Mr. Lichtenstein +looked grave and troubled. It was not for pleasure that he +sometimes found occasion to put dangerous work in the hands of +children.</p> +<p>"Hurt your thumb bad?" he asked.</p> +<p>Bubbles shook his head and plunged into his story. Now and then +the German laughed, but the red-haired, pug-nosed Jew appeared to +sink deeper and deeper into his own thoughts, only showing by an +occasional question that he was following the boy's narrative. +Bubbles wished to dwell at length and with comment upon the use of +the passage for disposing of dead bodies, but to Mr. Lichtenstein +this appeared to be merely a natural by-product of its +construction.</p> +<p>"It wasn't dug for that," he said. "How big is the main +excavation?"</p> +<br> +<a name="page236.jpg"></a> +<p class="ctr"><img src="images/page236.jpg" width="50%" alt= +""><br> +<b>"I want me thumb bandaged".</b></p> +<br> +<p>"'Bout as big as a small East Side dance-hall."</p> +<p>Mr. Liechtenstein turned to the German. "Hold a lot of +loot--what?"</p> +<p>"I bet me," said the German, and washed his hands with air.</p> +<p>"Lot o' what?" asked Bubbles.</p> +<p>"Loot--gold, silver, jewels, bullion."</p> +<p>"Your ideas," said the German, "is all idiot. No mans is such a +darn fool as to think he can get away by such a business--no mans, +that is, but is crazy."</p> +<p>"Blizzard is crazy," said Mr. Lichtenstein simply. "It wasn't +until we hit on that hypothesis that we made any progress. Bubbles, +did you ever hear of the Massacre of Saint Bartholomew?"</p> +<p>"Sure," said Bubbles, "they shot him full of arrows."</p> +<p>"That was Saint Sebastian," corrected the Jew. "Now listen, this +is history. On the night of August 24, 1572, two thousand men, +distinguished from other men by white cockades in their hats, on +the order of a crazy man, at the tolling of a bell, drew their +swords, murdered everybody in a great city who opposed their +leaders, and made themselves absolute masters of the place. What +two thousand men did in Paris during the Middle Ages, ten thousand +men acting in concert could do in New York to-day. If a man rose up +with the power to command such a following, with the ability to +keep his plans absolutely secret, with the genius to make plans in +which there were no flaws, he could loot Maiden Lane, the +Sub-Treasury, Tiffany's, the Metropolitan Museum--<i>and get away +with it</i>."</p> +<p>Mr. Lichtenstein's small eyes glittered. He was visibly excited. +And so was Mr. Blicker.</p> +<p>"He will loot the Metropolitan Museum," said this one, "but what +will he do with the metropolitan police?"</p> +<p>"Well," said Mr. Lichtenstein, "I am only supposing. But suppose +some fine night a building somewhere central was blown up with +dynamite. Suppose the sound was so big that it could be heard in +every part of greater New York. Suppose at the sound every +policeman in greater New York was shot dead in his tracks--"</p> +<p>Bubbles's hair began to bristle. "Say," he cried in his +excitement, "the straw hats--the soft straw hats that Blizzard +makes and don't sell--they're the white cockades!"</p> +<p>Mr. Blicker guffawed. Mr. Lichtenstein rose and paced the +room.</p> +<p>"And that proves," he exclaimed, "that nothing is to happen when +you and I are wearing straw hats--but in winter. Bubbles, you're a +bright boy!"</p> +<p>"You are both so bright," said Mr. Blicker, "you keep me all the +time laughing."</p> +<p>"Well," said Mr. Lichtenstein, "that may be, but suppose you +tell me why Blizzard makes straw hats and don't sell 'em. Tell me +why he's dug such a great hole under his house with a passage +leading to the river, and ships. Tell me why O'Hagan is drilling +men in the West. Tell me why Blizzard has gone out of the +white-slave business. It fetched him in a pretty penny."</p> +<p>"I think I can answer the last question," said Bubbles.</p> +<p>"Do then."</p> +<p>"I think," said the small boy, "that he's got some good in him +somewhere, and I know he's dead gone on my Miss Ferris. I think +he's ashamed o' some o' the things he's done."</p> +<p>Mr. Lichtenstein considered this at some length. Then he said: +"Well, that's possible. But it's an absolutely new idea to me. +Blizzard <i>ashamed</i>? Hum!"</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="XXXI"></a>XXXI</h2> +<br> +<p>"True that policemen take money in exchange for protection? True +that they practise blackmail and extortion? Of course it's true. +Whenever a big temptation appears loose in a city half the people +who get a look at it trip and fall. Oh, I'd like to reform this +city, Miss Barbara--and this country. I'd like to be dictator for +six months."</p> +<p>"Who wouldn't?" said Barbara. "But what would you do? Where +would you begin?"</p> +<p>"I should be drastic at first," said the legless man, "and kind +later. I'd begin," he went on, his eyes smiling, "with a general +massacre of incompetents--old men with too little money, young men +with too much--old maids, aliens, incurables, the races that are +too clever to work, the races that are too stupid, habitual +drunkards, spreaders of disease, the women who abolished the +canteen, the women who wear aigrettes. After that I should destroy +all possibilities of graft."</p> +<p>"How?" asked Barbara.</p> +<p>"Why," said he, "the simplest way in the world--legalize the +business that now pays for protection. There would be no more of +them than there are now, and they could be regulated and kept to +confined limits of cities. Don't blame the police for graft: blame +all who believe that human nature can be abolished by law. But," +and this time his whole face smiled, "I shall never be dictator. +The thing to do is to start a new country, and make no +mistakes."</p> +<p>And he proceeded, sometimes seriously but for the most part +whimsically, to outline his model republic, while Barbara worked +and listened, sometimes with amusement, sometimes with a sense of +being uplifted and thrilled by the man's plausible originality. +Since she had but the vaguest recollection of history, and none +whatever of economics, it was easy for the man to play the +constructive statesman. Nor were his schemes always foolish and +illogical, since the book of human nature had been always in his +library, and of all its volumes had been most often read.</p> +<p>"Ah!" said the legless man at last, "if I were younger, and +whole!"</p> +<p>Whenever he referred to his maimed condition Barbara, to whom it +was no longer physically shocking, was uncomfortable and +distressed, changing the subject as swiftly as might be. But now, +stopping her work short off, her hands hanging at her sides, she +began to speak of the matter.</p> +<p>"I suppose," she said, "it's almost life and death to +you--sometimes, that you'd give almost anything, take any chance to +be--the way you were meant to be. My father believes that some day +people can have anything that they've lost restored--a hand or an +arm. He's made experiments along those lines ever since he made his +mistake with you, and it all works out beautifully with monkeys and +dogs and guinea-pigs and rabbits. Just now he is in Colorado to try +it on a man. There's a man out there in jail for life, who has a +brother that lost his right hand in some machinery. The well +brother has offered to let father cut off his hand, and graft it on +the maimed brother's wrist. I've just had a letter--it's been done. +He thinks it's all right, but he can't be sure yet. Please don't +say anything about it because--well, because people are still queer +about these things. In the old days people burned the best doctors, +and now they want to lynch vivisectors and almost anybody who's +really trying to make health more or less contagious."</p> +<p>"Do you believe I could be made whole?" exclaimed Blizzard, his +eyes glittering as with a sudden hope. "My God! Even if they +weren't much use to me, I'd give my soul to look like a real +man--my soul! Do you know what I'd rather do than anything in this +whole world--just once? I'd rather draw myself to my full +height--just once--than be Napoleon Bonaparte. If all the treasure +in this city were mine to give, I'd give it to walk the length of a +city block on my own feet, looking down at the people instead of +always up--always up--until the leverage of your eyes twists the +back of your brain in everlasting torment."</p> +<p>"When my father comes back," said Barbara quietly, "talk to him. +And if only it can be done--why, you'll forgive us, won't you, for +all the suffering you've had and everything?"</p> +<br> +<a name="page242.jpg"></a> +<p class="ctr"><img src="images/page242.jpg" width="50%" alt= +""><br> +<b>She said in a small, surprised voice, "Why, it's +finished".</b></p> +<br> +<p>"Yes, yes," he said quickly. "But it isn't true--it isn't +possible. It won't work. It's against experience."</p> +<p>"It is <i>possible</i>," said Barbara gently. "That's all I +know. And even if--even if it can't be done yet awhile, I thought +it would comfort you to think that some day--almost surely--"</p> +<p>"You are always thinking of my comfort," he cried. "In this pit +that we call life, you are an angel serene, blessed and blessing. +Oh," he cried, "what would you say if I stood before you on my own +feet, and told you--told you--" He broke off short and hung his +head.</p> +<p>Barbara bit her lips and lifted her hands with a weary gesture +to resume work. But the bust of Blizzard was a live thing, and +seeing anew the strength and hellish beauty of it, suddenly and as +if with the eyes of a stranger, her heart seemed to leap into her +throat, her whole body relaxed once more, and she said in a small, +surprised voice:</p> +<p>"Why, it's finished!"</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="XXXII"></a>XXXII</h2> +<br> +<p>Upon Blizzard, who had been looking forward to many mornings +during which he should unobtrusively advance his cause, this quiet +statement fell with disturbing force. It meant that his +opportunities for intimate talks had come to a sudden and most +unprepared-for end. He knew that Barbara was tired out with the +steady grind of creation, and that she had been going through an +equally steady grind of discouragement and uncertainty. He believed +that she would make no delay in carrying her triumph and her +trouble out of the heat-ridden city, to cool places, to her own +people. He believed, not that she would forget him, but that, free +from his influence, she would see with equal vision how wide the +gulf between them really was.</p> +<p>He had made a slip in his calculation. He had been spreading his +arts thinly, you may say, to cover what he supposed was to have +been a much longer period of time. And he should have come sooner +and with all his strength to the point. There had been moments of +supreme discouragement, when, if there was to be a miracle in his +life, he should have spoken. There were to be no more of those +golden moments. She would close the studio, go away, and return by +way of exercise and fresh air to a sane and normal state of mind--a +state of mind in which such a physical and moral cripple as himself +could have no place except among the curiosities.</p> +<p>She stood looking steadily at the head which had come to life +under her hands. Her eyelids drooped heavily. She looked almost as +if she was falling asleep.</p> +<p>Blizzard watched her as a cat watches a mouse, not knowing what +was best for him to dare. Now he was for pleading his cause with +all the passion that inspired it; now for boldly claiming her as +the expiation for her father's fault; and now he was for passing +over all preliminaries and felling her with a blow of his fist.</p> +<p>And then she suddenly turned to him, and smiled like a very +happy and very tired child. "You've been very good to me," she +said, "and so patient! I don't know quite how to thank you. I owe +you such a lot."</p> +<p>"Do you?" he said, his hard eyes softening and seeking hers.</p> +<p>She nodded slowly. "Such a lot. And there's no way of paying, or +making things up to you, is there?"</p> +<p>"Only one," he said.</p> +<p>There was quite a long silence; his eyes, flames in them, held +hers, which were troubled and childlike, and imbued the two words +that he had spoken with an unmistakable intelligence.</p> +<p>"Don't let me go utterly," he said, "and slip back into the pit. +You have finished the bust. If you wished you could finish the man: +put him back among the good angels.... If your father died owing +money, you couldn't rest until you had paid his debts.... I could +be anything you wished. And I could give you anything that you +wanted in this world. There is nothing I couldn't put over--with +you at my side, wishing the good deed done, the great +deed--or--"</p> +<p>He began to tremble with the passion that was in his voice, +slipped from his chair, and began to move slowly toward her with +outstretched arms, upon his stumps of legs.</p> +<p>It was no mirth or any sense of the ridiculous that moved +Barbara, but fear, disgust, and horror. She backed away from him, +laughing hysterically. But he, whose self-consciousness in her +sight bordered upon mania, mistook the cause of her laughter, so +that a kind of hell-born fury shook him, and he rushed at her, his +mouth giving out horrible and inarticulate sounds. And in those +lightning moments she could move neither hand nor foot; nor could +she cry for help. And yet she realized, as in some nightmare, that +if once those horrible hairy hands closed upon her she was lost +utterly. And in that same clear flash of reason she realized that +for whatever might befall she had herself alone to blame. She had +touched pitch, and played with fire--and all that men might some +day call her great.</p> +<br> +<a name="page246-247.jpg"></a> +<p class="ctr"><img src="images/page246-247.jpg" width="100%" alt= +""><br> +<b>In that instant the legless man overreached himself and fell +heavily.</b></p> +<br> +<p>The speed for which the fury of the legless man called was more +than the stumps of his legs could furnish. He was like a man, +thigh-deep in water, who attempts to run at top speed. Yet his +hands were within inches of her dress, when daring and nerve at +last thrilled through Barbara, and returned her muscles into the +keeping of her mind. She darted backward and to one side. In that +instant the legless man overreached himself and fell heavily. Here +seemed an inestimable advantage for Barbara, and yet the great +body, shaken with curses and already rising to its stumps, was +between her and the door.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="XXXIII"></a>XXXIII</h2> +<br> +<p>For once the legless man had been deserted by the power of cool +reasoning. And his fury was of a kind that could not wait for +satisfaction. He was more like a mad dog than a man. And this, +although it added to the horror of Barbara's situation, proved her +salvation.</p> +<p>Occupying a point from which he could head off her escape by +either of the studio doors, he abandoned this, and attempted to +match the stumps of his legs against her swift young feet. And must +have overcome the disparity, but that in the lightning instinct of +self-preservation she overturned a table between them, and during +the moments thus gained dashed into her dressing-room and locked +the door behind her.</p> +<p>Blizzard vented his rage upon the locked door, splintering its +panels with bleeding fists; but in the meanwhile his quarry had +escaped him, and was already in the street walking swiftly toward +Washington Square. He leaned at last from a window, and saw her +going. And in his heart shame gradually took the place of fury. +Why, when she laughed at him, had he not been able to dissemble his +emotions for a few seconds? to mask his dreadfulness? For then, +surely, he must have got her in his power. He should have hung his +head when she laughed, begged her to forgive him for daring to lift +his thoughts to her; and begged her as a token of forgiveness to +shake hands with him. Her hand once clasped in his--</p> +<br> +<a name="page248.jpg"></a> +<p class="ctr"><img src="images/page248.jpg" width="45%" alt= +""><br> +<b>Barbara ... dashed into her dressing-room and locked the door +behind her.</b></p> +<br> +<p>Well, he had made a fool of himself. Perhaps he had frightened +her utterly beyond the reach even of his long arm. Fear would carry +her out of the city, out of the State, out of the country, perhaps. +To prevent the least of these contingencies he must act swiftly and +with daring wisdom.</p> +<p>He passed into the studio, glanced upward at the bust of +himself, stopped, and looked about for something heavy with which +to destroy it. Later he would tell her that he had done so, and let +that knowledge be the beginning of her torment.</p> +<p>But the thing that he planned to destroy looked him in the eye, +smiling. The thing smiled in the full knowledge of good and evil, +the fact that it had chosen evil, the fact that it was lost +forever. It was no contagious smile, but a smile aloof and +dreadful. So a man, impaled, may smile, when agony has passed +beyond the usual human passions--and even so the legless man smiled +upward at the smiling bust of himself. And he found that he could +not destroy the bust: for the act would have about it too ominous a +flavor of self-destruction.</p> +<p>He caught up his crutches, his little hand-organ, and hurried +from the studio. By now Barbara must be well on her way uptown. He +entered a public telephone station and gave the number of her +house. He asked to speak with Miss Marion O'Brien, and when after +an interval he heard the voice of Barbara's maid in his ear, he +said: "She's been frightened. Let me know what she's going to do as +soon as you know. Don't use the house 'phone. Slip out to a pay +station. I must know when she's going and where, and if she says +for how long." He hung up the receiver, and hurried off.</p> +<p>An hour later Barbara's maid telephoned him the required news, +but all of it that mattered was that Barbara was not going out of +town until the next day. There was a whole afternoon and night in +which to act.</p> +<p>The legless man sank at once into deep and swift thought. And +ten minutes later he had abandoned all idea of kidnapping Barbara +for the present. Certain dangers of so doing seemed insurmountable. +He must possess his soul in patience, and in the meanwhile +discount, if possible, the fright that he had given her. To this +end he wrote the following letter:</p> +<p>"It wasn't your fault that I lifted my eyes to you, and hoped +that you would lower yours to me. But now I know what a fool I have +been. I forgive you for laughing at me, though at the time it made +me mad like a dog, and I only wanted to hurt the woman I love. I +won't trouble you any more, ever. Indeed I am too ashamed and +humbled ever to wish to see you again. Only please don't hate me. +If I had any good sides, please remember them. Some time you will +hear of me again; but never again from me. I have work to do, but I +have given my time to dreaming.</p> +<p>"When your father comes back will you ask him to let me know if +he will see me? You thought he could do something for me--or hold +out some hope. I would risk my life itself to be whole, even if I +could never be very active. And science is so wonderful; and I know +your father would like to help me if he could.</p> +<p>"If you don't think I am being punished for threatening you, and +going crazy, you don't know anything about the unhappiest beast in +this world. But it is terrible for a cripple when the one person he +looks up to laughs at him. I have a thick skin; but that burnt +through it like acid."</p> +<p>The messenger who carried the letter to Barbara brought him her +answer:</p> +<p>"I will give your message to my father. You are quite wrong +about the laughing. I didn't laugh at you or anything about you. I +laughed because I was nervous and frightened. But it can't matter +much one way or the other. I am sorry that you have been hurt twice +by my family. But the second hurt is not our fault. And I do not +see that there is anything to be done about it. As for the first, +my father would end his days in peace if he could make you whole. I +shall hope to hear nothing but good of you in the future."</p> +<p>The shame and remorse to which Blizzard pretended, Barbara +actually felt. All her friendships with men had been pursued by +disasters of some sort or other. But her most disastrous experiment +in friendship had been with Blizzard. She had been bluntly told by +truth-speaking persons that he was not a fit acquaintance for her. +His own face had warned her. But she had persisted in meeting him +without precautions, in treating him like an equal, in overcoming +her natural and just repugnance to him, and in calling him her +friend. It was humiliating for her to realize and acknowledge that +she had made a fool of herself. It was worse to remember the look +in his face, during those last awful moments in the studio. Even if +the bust she had made of him was a great work of art, she had paid +too high for the privilege of making it.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="XXXIV"></a>XXXIV</h2> +<br> +<p>Dr. Ferris was delighted to learn that Barbara had left town. +Her meetings with Blizzard had been horribly on his mind and +conscience. He had dreaded some vague calamity--some intangible +darkening of his darling's soul.</p> +<p>A few days in the country had worked wonders for her. Her skin +had browned a little, and her cheeks were crimson. But dearer to +the paternal heart than these evidences of good health was the fact +that she seemed unusually glad to see him. She seemed to him to +have lost a world of independence and self-reliance, to be inclined +to accept his judgments without dispute. She seemed more womanly +and more daughterly, more normal and more beautiful.</p> +<p>For a man with a heavy weight always upon his conscience, the +excellent surgeon found himself wonderfully at peace with the world +and its institutions. There was no doubt that the hand which he had +come from grafting was going to live and be of some use to its new +owner. His mail was heavy with approbation. And it seemed to him +that the path which he had discovered had no ending.</p> +<p>"In a hundred years, Barbara," he said, "it will be possible to +replace anything that the body has lost, or that has become +diseased and useless or a menace--not the heart, perhaps, nor the +brain--but anything else. What I have done clumsily others will do +to perfection."</p> +<p>"What are the chances for Blizzard?"</p> +<p>"Even," said the surgeon. "They would be more favorable if he +had not lost his legs so long ago. At the worst the experiment +wouldn't kill him. He would merely have undergone a useless +operation. At the best he would be able to walk, run perhaps, and +look like a whole man. If anything is to be done for him, the time +has come. He has only to tell me to go ahead."</p> +<p>"I think he'll do that," said Barbara. "But there's one thing I +don't understand," and she smiled; "who is to supply the spare +legs?"</p> +<p>"That's the least of all the difficulties," said her father, +"now that ways of keeping tissues alive have been discovered and +proved. In time there will be storages from which any part of the +human body may be obtained on short notice and in perfect condition +for grafting. Just now the idea is horrible to ignorant people, but +the faith will spread. Only wait till we have made a few old people +young--for that will come, too, with the new surgery."</p> +<p>"You will be glad," said Barbara, "to hear that I have severed +friendly relations with Mr. Blizzard. He behaved in the end pretty +much as you all feared he would."</p> +<p>And she told her father, briefly, and somewhat shamefacedly, all +that had happened in the studio.</p> +<p>"He thought I was laughing at him," she said. "Of course I +wasn't. And he came at me. Do you remember when poor old Rose went +mad, and tried to get at us through the bars of the kennel? +Blizzard looked like that--like a mad dog." She shuddered.</p> +<p>The surgeon's high spirits were dashed as with cold water.</p> +<p>"He ought not to be helped," said Barbara; "he ought to be shot, +as Rose was."</p> +<p>But Dr. Ferris shook his head gravely. "If he is that sort of a +man," he said, "who made him so? Who took the joy of life from him? +Barbara, my dear, there is nothing that man could do that I +couldn't forgive."</p> +<p>"And I think that your conscience is sick," said Barbara. "I +used to think as you think. But if you had seen his face that +day!... The one great mistake you have made has ruined not his +life, but yours. If he had had the right stuff in him, calamity +would not have broken him! It would have <i>made</i> him. Give him +a new pair of legs, if you can; and forget about him, as I shall. +When you first told me about him, I thought we owed him anything he +chose to ask. At one time I thought that if he wished it, it would +be right for me to marry him."</p> +<p>"Barbara!"</p> +<p>"Yes, I did--I thought it strongly. Shows what a fool a girl +who's naturally foolish can make of herself! Why, father, what if +he has suffered through your mistake? That mistake turned your +thoughts to the new surgery--and for the one miserable man that you +have hurt you will have given the wonder of hope to the whole of +mankind."</p> +<p>She slid her hand under her father's arm.</p> +<p>"Let's potter 'round the gardens," she said, "and forget our +troubles. It's bully to have you back. There's not much doing in +the floral line. The summer sun in Westchester doesn't vary from +year to year. But there are lots of green things that smell good, +and the asters and dahlias are making the most extraordinary +promises of what they are going to do by and by."</p> +<p>They passed out of the house and by marble steps into the first +and most formal of their many gardens, and so down through the +other gardens, terrace below terrace, to the lake.</p> +<p>The water was so still as to suggest a solid rather than a +liquid; to the west shadowy mountains of cloud charged with thunder +swelled toward the zenith. The long midsummer drought was coming to +an end, and all birds and insects were silent, as if tired of +complaining. Across the lake one maple, turned prematurely scarlet, +brought out the soft greens of the woods with an astounding accent. +Directly in front of this flaming tree, a snow-white heron stood +motionless upon a gray rock.</p> +<br> +<a name="page256.jpg"></a> +<p class="ctr"><img src="images/page256.jpg" width="50%" alt= +""><br> +<b>They passed out of the house and by marble steps into the first +and most formal of their many gardens.</b></p> +<br> +<p>To Barbara it seemed on that day that "Clovelly" was the +loveliest place in all the world, and her father, who had fashioned +it out of rough farm lands, one of the world's most charming +artists. "Why paint with oils, when you can draw with trees and +flowers and grass and water?" she asked herself.</p> +<p>"In the time it took me to do Blizzard's bust," she said, "I +could have planted millions of flowers and seen them bloom."</p> +<p>"At least," said her father, "you can finish a bust, but a +garden that is finished isn't a garden. What are you going to do +with it?"</p> +<p>"The bust? Why, sometimes I think I'll just leave it in the +studio, and let it survive or perish. Sometimes I want to take a +hammer and smash it to pieces."</p> +<p>"It didn't come out as well as you hoped?"</p> +<p>"Of course not. Does anything ever? But it's the best that I can +do. And I shall never do anything better."</p> +<p>"Nonsense."</p> +<p>"I shall never even try. I want to recover all the things I've +thrown away, and put them back in my head and heart where they +belong, and just live."</p> +<p>"Well," said her father, smiling, "if you feel that way, why +that's a good way to feel. But I'm afraid art is stronger in you +than you think. Just now you're tired and disillusionized. In a +month you'll be making sketches for some monumental opus."</p> +<p>"If I do," said Barbara, "it will be executed here at Clovelly. +I never want to leave Clovelly. I feel safe here, safe from myself +and other people. I think," and she smiled whimsically, "that I +should almost like to settle down and make you a good +daughter."</p> +<p>"A good daughter," said the surgeon, "marries; and her father +builds a beautiful house for her, just over the hill from his +own--remember the little valley where we found all the fringed +gentian one year?--and the shortest cut between the two houses is +worn bare and packed hard by the feet of grandchildren. Good Lord, +my dear, what's the good of art, what's the good of science? I +would rather have watched you grow up than have made the Winged +Victory, or discovered the circulation of the blood. Come now? +Barbs, tell me, who's the young man?"</p> +<p>For the first time in her life she told him of the wild +impulsiveness and the shocking brevity of her affections for +various members of his sex; naming no names she explained to him +with much self-abasement (and a little amusement) that she was no +good, "A nice wife I'd make!" she concluded.</p> +<p>But her father only laughed. "The only abnormal thing about +you," he said, "is that you tell the truth. The average girl shows +men more attentions than men show her. I don't mean that she +demonstrates her attentions; but that she feels them in her heart. +To be absolutely the first in a woman's heart a man must catch her +when she's about three months old."</p> +<p>"But a girl," said Barbara, "who thinks she's sure and then +finds she isn't, hurts the people she's fondest of. In extreme +eases she breaks hearts and spoils lives."</p> +<br> +<a name="page258-259.jpg"></a> +<p class="ctr"><img src="images/page258-259.jpg" width="100%" alt= +""><br> +<b>"What is Wilmot doing with himself these days?" "He went away," +said Barbara, her eyes troubled.</b></p> +<br> +<p>"Hearts," said her father, "that can be broken are very weak. +Lives that can be spoiled by disappointment and injured pride +aren't worth preserving. If you have nothing more serious on your +conscience than having, in all good faith, encouraged a few young +men, found that you were wrong, and sent them away with bees in +their bonnets, I'm sure I envy you."</p> +<p>Barbara simply shook her head.</p> +<p>"When you do find the right man, Barbara, you'll make up to him +with showers of blessings for whatever cold rains you've shed on +others.... What is Wilmot doing with himself these days?"</p> +<p>"He went away," said Barbara, and she sat looking steadily +across the lake, her chin on her hand, her eyes troubled.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="XXXV"></a>XXXV</h2> +<br> +<p>In many ways the life which Barbara led at Clovelly was +calculated to rest her mind. She developed a passion for exercise, +and when night came was too full of tired good health to read or +talk. Since the estate was to be hers one day, she found the wish +to know her way intimately about it, and since there were three +thousand acres, for the most part thick forests spread over rocky +hills, she could contemplate weeks of delightful explorations. To +discover ponds, brooks, and caves that belong to other people has +its delights, but to go daily up and down a lovely country +discovering lovely things that belong to yourself is perhaps the +most delightful way of passing time that has been vouchsafed to any +one.</p> +<p>On these explorations Barbara's chosen companion was Bubbles. He +was no longer a mere Buttons: her interest and belief in the child +had passed beyond the wish to see him develop into a good servant. +She wished to make something better of him--or if there is nothing +better than a good servant, something more showy and +ornamental.</p> +<p>He was sharp as a needle; and he was honest. He was not too old +to be moulded by good influences, schools, and associations into a +man with proper manners, and an upper-class command of the English +language. He should go to one of the New England church schools, +later to college, then he should choose a career for himself and be +helped into harness. So she planned his future. In the meanwhile +she wished to see the thin, spindly body catch up with the big, +intelligent head. Although his muscles were tough and wiry he had a +delicate look which troubled her, and a cough which to her +inexperienced and anxious ears suggested a consumptive +tendency.</p> +<p>Dr. Ferris laughed at this, but to satisfy her he gave the boy a +thorough questioning and a thorough looking over. "Any of your +family consumptives, Bubbles?"</p> +<p>"Don't think so, sir."</p> +<p>"Well, you're not. Heart and lungs are sound."</p> +<p>"Miss Barbara says she doesn't like my cough."</p> +<p>"Yes," said the surgeon, "it worries her quite a good deal. And +I advise you to stop it."</p> +<p>"But my throat gets tickling, and--"</p> +<p>"Your throat gets tickling because you are an inveterate +cigarette smoker. And that's the reason why you are undersized and +under-nourished. How long have you smoked?"</p> +<p>"I don't remember when I didn't."</p> +<p>"Can't you stop?"</p> +<p>"I stopped once for two days, and then I took a pack of smokers +that wasn't mine. That was about the only thing I ever stole."</p> +<p>"But if you gave me your word not to smoke any more till you're +twenty-one, couldn't you keep that promise?"</p> +<p>"I could try," said Bubbles, evincing very little +confidence,</p> +<p>"Will you try?" said the surgeon. "Hello, what's this?"</p> +<p>The boy in lifting his left arm had disclosed a dark-brown +birthmark shaped like the new moon. All amusement had gone out of +Dr. Ferris's eyes; and he had that look of tragic memories that so +often put an end to his smiling and optimistic moods.</p> +<p>"Do you remember your father?"</p> +<p>"No, sir."</p> +<p>"Mother living?"</p> +<p>Bubbles hesitated. "She's in an asylum. She's crazy."</p> +<p>"What was your father's name?"</p> +<p>Bubbles shook his head.</p> +<p>The surgeon considered for a moment. "Well," he said, at length, +and once more smiling, "put your clothes on, and then go to Miss +Ferris and promise her that you won't smoke any more. What asylum +did you say your mother was in?"</p> +<p>"Ottawan."</p> +<p>"Do you ever see her?"</p> +<p>"No, sir. She don't like to see me."</p> +<p>"What is her name, Bubbles?"</p> +<p>"Jenny Ward."</p> +<p>Dr. Ferris ordered a car, and in less than two hours he was +talking with the superintendent of Ottawan about the patient, Jenny +Ward.</p> +<p>"The boy," he was saying, "is a protégé of my +daughter's. She means to educate him, and we are naturally +interested in his antecedents. I wonder if she has any lucid +recollection of the father?"</p> +<p>"When she first came she seemed to have lucid moments. Even now +she never makes trouble for any one, except that sometimes she +wakes in the night screaming. She has been very pretty."</p> +<p>"H'm!" said Dr. Ferris. "You think she couldn't tell me anything +about the boy's father?"</p> +<p>"I know she couldn't. When she was examined after being +committed, it was found that her tongue had been cut out."</p> +<p>The woman, upon being visited, proved a meek, gentle, pathetic +creature, eager to please. As the superintendent reported, she had +been very pretty. She would have been pretty still, but for her +utterly vacant look.</p> +<p>The doctor questioned her, but she made no effort, it seemed, +even to understand the questions. Given a pencil and paper she +seemed to take pleasure in making dots, dashes, and scrawls; but +she made no mark that in any way represented a letter of the +alphabet. Confronted with a printed page, she thrust it aside.</p> +<p>"Very likely she never could read or write," said the +superintendent; "usually when you give 'em a pencil they make +letters by an act of muscular memory."</p> +<p>In the corridor outside the woman's room, they encountered one +of those nurses who are used in managing the violent insane. He was +a huge fellow, with a dark, strong, and somewhat forbidding face. +He nodded to the superintendent and passed. Dr. Ferris looked after +him down the corridor, had a sudden thought, and communicated it to +his host in a quick undertone.</p> +<p>"I say, Gyles! Look here a moment"</p> +<p>The huge nurse turned on his heel, and came towering back to +them.</p> +<p>"Have you ever assisted in looking after the woman Jenny Ward?" +and he pointed toward the door of her room.</p> +<p>"No, sir."</p> +<p>"Dr. Ferris wishes to try an experiment."</p> +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> +<p>"He wishes you to throw open the door of her room, and to enter +quickly--upon your knees."</p> +<p>"On my knees?"</p> +<p>"Yes."</p> +<p>"All right, sir." The man shrugged his big shoulders, and, his +face sullen and annoyed, knelt at the door of Jenny Ward's room, +unlocked it, flung it open, and entered quickly.</p> +<p>Over his head the doctors saw an expression of fear, almost +unearthly, come over the woman's face. And she filled her room and +the corridor without with a hoarse and horrible screaming.</p> +<p>Instantly the big nurse rose to his feet, and came out of the +room. His face was passionately angry. And he said:</p> +<p>"It's a shame to frighten her like that."</p> +<p>The superintendent's eyes fell before the glare in those of the +employee, and he murmured something about "necessary +experiment--had to be done."</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="XXXVI"></a>XXXVI</h2> +<br> +<p>"There's no room for doubt in my mind," said Dr. Ferris. "The +coincidence of the birthmarks, most unusual in shape and texture, +the poor woman's behavior at sight of a man who at first glance +appeared to be without legs--"</p> +<p>"Yes," said Barbara, "but I go more on a certain expression that +Bubbles sometimes has and that makes him look like his father. You +see, I've done both their heads, and studied them closer than +anybody else."</p> +<p>"Do you suppose the boy knows?"</p> +<p>She shook her head. "I think not. He's too--too decent. If he +thought that Blizzard was his father, he wouldn't say the things +that I have heard him say about him. He's the most loyal +child."</p> +<p>"Do you suppose Blizzard knows?"</p> +<p>"Why, of course. A man could hardly have a son without knowing +him--especially a man who lives with his ears to the ground and his +mind in touch with everything in the city."</p> +<p>Dr. Ferris smiled a little. "Well," he said, "shall we tell +Bubbles?"</p> +<p>"Why should we? I shouldn't like to be told out of a clear sky +that I had such and such a father. It doesn't seem in the least +necessary."</p> +<p>But before the day was out Barbara thought best to tell Bubbles. +He came to her, with a slightly important air, which he did his +best to conceal, and said that he wished to go to the city for a +few days, on business.</p> +<p>"Sure the business isn't free untrammelled smoking?"</p> +<p>Bubbles was offended. "If I hadn't given you my word," he said, +"you might think that. I told you when we came that I might have to +go back any time on business. I got to go. Honest, Miss +Barbara."</p> +<p>"Well, that settles it, Bubbles. But don't you think as long as +I'm trying to give you some of the things you've missed, that you +might take me a little more into your confidence?"</p> +<p>She maintained a discreet and serious countenance, although she +wished very much to laugh.</p> +<p>The boy studied her face gravely with grave eyes. "The ABC of my +business," he said presently, "is knowing who to trust. I know you +won't blab, Miss Barbara, 'r else I wouldn't tell you. There's a +society in New York City for putting down grafts and crimes. +There's a rich man back of it. And there's more kinds o' people +working for it than you'd guess in a year. There's even policemen +workin' for it--"</p> +<p>"But it's their business to put down crime."</p> +<p>Bubbles shook his head sadly. "The chief business of the society +is to put down police graft in crime," he said. "But there's heaps +o' side businesses. Harry West, he's one of us. He's way high up. +I'm way low down. But when I'm called to do what I can, I got to do +it. There's one member younger'n me. And there's Fifth Avenue +swells belongs, and waiters, and druggists, and bootblacks, and men +in hardware stores, and barkeepers--"</p> +<p>"What sort of work do you have to do?"</p> +<p>"To go places and find out things."</p> +<p>"Why, then you're a detective, Bubbles."</p> +<p>A look of contempt swept into the child's face. "Detectives is +in business," he said, "for what they can get out of it. We're in +it because the house we live in is dirty and full of rats, and we +want to make it clean."</p> +<p>The boy had raised his voice a little, and Barbara found herself +thrilling to it.</p> +<p>"But, Bubbles," she objected, "you can't go to school and +college and keep up this work at the same time."</p> +<p>"If I get education," said Bubbles, "it's so's to be fitter for +the work when I come out. But I can't give the work up till the job +I'm on is finished. It wouldn't be square."</p> +<p>"Can you tell me the job?"</p> +<p>"I'm one o' them that's helpin' to get the old un where he's +wanted."</p> +<p>"What old one?"</p> +<p>"Blizzard."</p> +<p>Barbara was very much taken aback. "The man I made the bust +of?"</p> +<p>"We can send him to the chair any time. But what's the use? He +knows things that we got to know before we pass him up."</p> +<p>"But, Bubbles, how can you help?"</p> +<p>"Oh, I'm little. I can get into little places. They wouldn't +want me if I weren't of use."</p> +<p>"But I don't like the idea of your running down Blizzard, +Bubbles."</p> +<p>"Why not, Miss Barbara? There's no one in the city that's +<i>needed</i> as much as him."</p> +<p>"Aside from that, Bubbles--I'm willing to grant that--there's a +reason why I think you should have nothing to do with running him +down."</p> +<p>"It's got to be an awful good one, Miss Barbara--not just good +to you, and maybe to me, but to men higher up."</p> +<p>"I think it would be good enough for the very highest up, +Bubbles. Will you take my word for it?"</p> +<p>"Yes, Miss Barbara. But <i>they</i> won't take my word for your +word."</p> +<p>"No," she said, "of course not."</p> +<p>She considered for a few moments. Then she said: "Bubbles, I'm +going to tell you my reason. I hope I'm not doing wrong. It's a +serious thing for me to tell you and for you to know. There is very +little doubt but that Blizzard is your father."</p> +<p>"Say that again, please," said Bubbles.</p> +<p>"Blizzard is probably your father."</p> +<p>Bubbles took the news very coolly. His eyes sparkled; but he +made no exclamations of surprise or chagrin. Instead he said: +"<i>That</i> accounts for it."</p> +<p>"Accounts for what?"</p> +<p>"Oncet he caught me in his house. He said the next time he'd +skin me alive. If I hadn't been his son he'd a skun me that time. +Do you get me, Miss Barbara? He's my father, sure. But--" Now +chagrin, wonder, and perplexity were written in Bubbles's face. +"Why," he said, "it makes everything different. He never done +anything for me; but if he's my father--"</p> +<p>"You can't very well spy on him, can you, Bubbles? You've got to +stand aside and leave all that to others."</p> +<p>"I got to see the Head, Miss Barbara. I got to ask him."</p> +<p>"Who is the head, Bubbles?"</p> +<p>"I'd tell you in a minute, Miss Barbara, only we're all swore to +tell no one. But what he says goes with me. It's got to be that +way, else we'd never get nowhere."</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="XXXVII"></a>XXXVII</h2> +<br> +<p>Mr. Abe Lichtenstein looked up from a mass of writing. "So," he +smiled, "you got your few days off?"</p> +<p>"Mr. Lichtenstein," said Bubbles, his eyes big, his voice +trembling, "an awful thing has happened."</p> +<p>"You can tell me nothing bad but I can tell you something worse. +What has happened?"</p> +<p>"The old un is my father!"</p> +<p>"Yes," said Lichtenstein, "I have thought of that. You are +sure?"</p> +<p>"I'm sure enough not to want to have anything more to do with +huntin' him. But that's for you to say. I do what you say."</p> +<p>"I won't ask you to go on," said Lichtenstein; "but you're still +with us, Bubbles? You're still for cleaning up the dirty house and +making it fit for human beings to live in?"</p> +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> +<p>"As far as your father's concerned you'll be neutral."</p> +<p>"Meaning I won't do nothing against him, nor for him?"</p> +<p>The red-headed Jew nodded. "You won't do like Rose?"</p> +<p>"Rose?"</p> +<p>Lichtenstein's face became very cold and grim. "She's gone over +to him body and soul. Bubbles, and heart and mind. For weeks she's +fooled us with nonsense--stuff they've made up together. Worse, +she's broken every oath she ever swore. Our strength was secrecy. +Well, your father knows the name of every agent in our society. Oh, +he's got it all out of her! Everything!"</p> +<p>"Does he know that you are--"</p> +<p>"Yes, confound him, he does. And my life is about as safe in +this city as that of the average cat in the Italian quarter. My +life isn't the important thing. It's what I've got in my head--cold +facts. See all this stuff? That's what's in my head going down on +paper for the first time. It's to guide the man that takes my +place--to help him over some of the hard places--three hundred +sheets of it already, and only a week since I began."</p> +<p>"Rose!" exclaimed Bubbles.</p> +<p>"There was none better--none smarter--till she fell in +love--<i>fell</i> in love!"</p> +<p>"Does he know I'm one of us, Mr. Lichtenstein?"</p> +<p>"Why, yes. I suppose she'll have given even the children away." +Mr. Lichtenstein's eye roamed over the suite of rich rooms with +their elaborate gambling-paraphernalia. "Not much doing," he +smiled, "since Rose went over. The tip's out that I'm wanted. +Nobody drops in for a quiet game. Bubbles, you tell people when +you're a man and I'm gone, that I wasn't only a gambler. Tell 'em I +took money from people who had plenty but wouldn't take the trouble +to do right with it, and tell 'em I used that money to do right--to +help make dirty things clean."</p> +<p>He turned and regarded the face of the black marble clock on the +mantel-piece. As he looked the face of the clock was violently +shattered, and so, but on a lower level, was a pane of glass in the +window immediately opposite.</p> +<p>Abe Lichtenstein fell face down upon his unfinished +manuscript.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="XXXVIII"></a>XXXVIII</h2> +<br> +<p>Then he began to speak in a quiet voice. "Never touched me. +Bubbles. Pull that cord at the right of the window. That will close +the curtains. Careful not to show yourself. The man that fired that +shot thinks he got me. I fell over to make him think so and to keep +him from shooting again. Now then"--the curtain had been drawn over +the window with the broken pane--"let's see what sort of a gun our +friend uses, and then perhaps we can spot our friend. Did you hear +the shot?"</p> +<p>"No, sir. There was a noise just when the clock broke like when +a steel girder falls on the sidewalk."</p> +<p>"That noise was just <i>before</i> the clock broke, Bubbles. And +it was loud enough to drown the noise of our friend's gun. Clever +work, though, to <i>have</i> to pull the trigger at a given moment, +and to make such a close shot. Probably had his gun screwed in a +vise."</p> +<p>Meanwhile Lichtenstein had extracted from the ruined clock a +.45-calibre bullet of nickel steel. A glance at the grooves made by +the rifling of the barrel from which it had been expelled caused +him to raise his colorless eyebrows and smile cynically.</p> +<p>"New government automatic, Bubbles," he said, "and the funny +part of it is they've only been issued to officers so far, and the +factory hasn't put 'em on sale yet."</p> +<p>"Must have been stole from an officer, then," said Bubbles.</p> +<p>"You steal her jewels from an actress," said Lichtenstein, "her +mite from the widow, its romances from the people, but you don't +steal his side arms from an American army officer. No. Somebody in +the factory has let the weapon that fired this slip out. It doesn't +matter--it's just a little link in the long chain."</p> +<p>He seated himself calmly at the table and set down in black and +white the fact that he had been very nearly murdered by a bullet +fired from the new army pistol. Then he began to gather up the +sheets of his manuscript.</p> +<p>"Now I wonder," he said, "where I can go to finish this +document? I don't want them to 'get' me until I've paved the way +for the man that comes after me. Now then--the secret passage isn't +only for the wicked."</p> +<p>Kneeling on the clean hearth, Mr. Lichtenstein caused the +ornamental cast-iron back of the fireplace to swing outward upon a +hinge. Reaching a long arm into the disclosed opening, he +unfastened and pushed ajar the iron back of a fireplace in the next +house.</p> +<p>Bubbles, crawling through first, found himself in a somewhat +overdressed pink and blue bedroom. The lace curtains were too +elaborate. The room was luxurious and vulgar. Among the photographs +on the centre-table reposed a champagne-bottle, three parts empty, +and two glasses, in which a number of flies were heavily +crawling.</p> +<p>Lichtenstein, having carefully replaced the fire-backs, rose +smiling, and clapped a hand upon Bubbles's shoulder.</p> +<p>"Now then, Bubbles," he said, "push that bell-button by the door +four times, and we'll see what Mrs. Popple can do to get us out of +this. Never met Mrs. Popple? She's one of us, and at heart a good +one."</p> +<p>The lady in question came swiftly in answer to the four rings. +At first sight she passed for a woman of hard and forbidding +aspect; filmy laces and a clinging kimona of rose-pink silk neither +softened nor made feminine the alabaster-colored face with its +thin, straight mouth, heavy hairy eyebrows, and clean-cut Greek +nose. Only her costume and her hair, indescribably fine, and +indescribably yellow, betrayed that there were follies in her +nature. But the moment she spoke you liked her. She had a slow, +deep, beautiful voice, and the slowness of her speech was offset by +the fewness of her words.</p> +<p>"What's wrong, Abe?"</p> +<p>Lichtenstein explained briefly, and added: "Now how are we to +get out of this without being spotted and followed?"</p> +<p>"Easy," said Mrs. Popple. She went to a vast wardrobe painted +white, and pulled the creaking doors wide open. "Wedge the man into +one dress," she said, "pad the boy into another. Send 'em off in a +taxi. Now, boy. Is this Bubbles? Pleased to meet you. I'm old +enough to be your grandmother."</p> +<p>The words were a command, and the boy, much embarrassed, began +to take off his coat.</p> +<p>"Get busy, Abe. Can take your own things along in a suit-case. I +don't look, see? I'm looking out duds for you. What's that? Razor? +Find everything in medicine-closet over wash-basin in +bath-room."</p> +<p>Lichtenstein disappeared, and gave forth presently the rasping +sounds of a man shaving in a hurry. And in the meanwhile, always +swift and sure, Mrs. Popple initiated Bubbles into the ABC's of +female attire.</p> +<p>"No trouble about a straight front for you," she chuckled, and +gave a sudden strong tug at the laces of Bubbles's corsets. He +gasped, and the tears came to his eyes.</p> +<p>"Mind to take little steps," she said, "and don't swing your +arms." She clasped a blond wig upon his head, and drew back to see +the effect.</p> +<p>"Abe," she called, "she's a pippin!"</p> +<p>A moment later she frowned, almost savagely, laid her finger on +her lips, knelt at the fireplace, thrust her head far in and +listened intently.</p> +<p>Lichtenstein, one side of his face in lather, appeared at the +bath-room door. His eyes on the crouching figure of Mrs. Popple, he +continued calmly and methodically to shave himself.</p> +<p>After an interval the woman rose, and shook her head.</p> +<p>"Can't make out who's in there," she whispered. "Have Lizzie +watch front window see who goes out."</p> +<p>Lichtenstein nodded, washed the tag ends of lather from his +face, and proceeded in dead silence to dress himself as a lady of +somewhat doubtful age, looks, and position. But Bubbles would have +made a very pretty girl, if Mrs. Popple had not insisted on +powdering his face till it was as white as that of a clown.</p> +<p>"Won't do to be conspicuous," she explained.</p> +<p>Lichtenstein packed the things which he and Bubbles had taken +off into a suit-case marked "A.P." (Amelia Popple), and led the way +downstairs. A little later a taxicab drew up at the curb, and the +two disguised secret-service agents sauntered down the high steps +of Mrs. Popple's brownstone house, looking neither to the right nor +to the left, and got in.</p> +<p>"Where to?" said the driver, with rather a bold leer. The +average lady who descended or ascended Mrs. Popple's steps; was not +considered respectable even by taxi-drivers.</p> +<p>It had been agreed that Bubbles, having of the two the more +feminine adaptabilities of voice, should do the talking.</p> +<p>"Grand Central," he said.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="XXXIX"></a>XXXIX</h2> +<br> +<p>Barbara was reading "Smoke" and did not wish to be interrupted +by a "young person" (in the footman's words) who refused to give +her name. Nevertheless she was weakly good-natured in such matters, +and closing her book said: "Very well--in here, John."</p> +<p>A moment later the young person was shown into the living-room. +Barbara was still more annoyed, for young faces covered with powder +were odious to her. But suddenly the young person's mouth curled +into a captivating grin, and the young person trotted forward in a +very un-young-personish way, and cried triumphantly:</p> +<p>"It's me--Bubbles."</p> +<p>And Bubbles followed Barbara's gratifying exclamations of +surprise and inquiry with a syncopated outburst of explanation, +finishing with: "And Mr. Lichtenstein said I was to throw us on +your mercy, and ask if he could stay to finish his writing, and +he's stepped into some bushes off the driveway to put on his own +clothes. And please, Miss Barbara, he's just the finest and bravest +ever, and don't care what happens to him, only he says they're +bound to get him now everything's found out, and he's just got to +finish writing down what he carries in his head."</p> +<p>"Of course," said Barbara, "we'll have to tell my father; but +all will be well. Mr. Lichtenstein shall stay. Bring him to me when +he's finished changing, and then you'd best change, and if you +don't want to have a sore face wash all that nasty stuff off +it."</p> +<p>Lichtenstein had already changed, and was coming up the driveway +carrying a suit-case. Bubbles brought him at once, and with great +pride, to Barbara. Mr. Lichtenstein had never seen her before. In +his bow there was a trace of Oriental elaboration. And his +curiously meagreish, pug-nosed sandy face beamed with pleasure and +admiration.</p> +<p>"I thought I knew my New York, Miss Ferris," he said, "but it +seems I was mistaken."</p> +<p>Since the compliment was obviously sincere, Barbara took +pleasure in it, and the pleasure showed in her charming face. "And +Bubbles says," said she, "that you are the 'finest ever.' I'm glad +if staying here is going to help the cause. You can be as private +as you like--" But a sudden change had come over Lichtenstein's +face, the smile had vanished, the eyes grown sharp, even stern. +"What is your maid's name?" he asked abruptly.</p> +<p>"My maid? Why, what about her?"</p> +<p>"She passed just now--by that door. I saw her in the mirror at +the end of the room. What's her name?"</p> +<p>"Marion--" Barbara hesitated.</p> +<p>"O'Brien?"</p> +<p>"Yes, O'Brien."</p> +<br> +<a name="page280-281.jpg"></a> +<p class="ctr"><img src="images/page280-281.jpg" width="100%" alt= +""><br> +<b>He caught her by the wrist, drew her to her feet, and into the +room.</b></p> +<br> +<p>"I thought so. She's in Blizzard's pay. If she has recognized +me--Shut the door into the hall, Bubbles."</p> +<p>The door being shut, Lichtenstein crossed the room and stood +near it, his hand on the knob. For nearly a minute he neither moved +nor changed expression. Then a smile flickered about his mouth, +and, sure of his effect, with a sharp gesture he flung the door +wide open, and discovered Miss Marion O'Brien kneeling in the +opening. He caught her by the wrist, drew her to her feet, and into +the room.</p> +<p>"Marion!" exclaimed Miss Ferris.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="XL"></a>XL</h2> +<br> +<p>There was a long silence during which Miss O'Brien tried to look +defiant, and succeeded only in shedding a few tears. Barbara had +always liked the girl, and now felt profoundly sorry for her. +Liechtenstein, too, seemed sorry and at a loss for words. The +position was difficult. The O'Brien's eavesdropping warranted her +discharge, and nothing more. She would go straight to Blizzard and +disclose Lichtenstein's whereabouts. But this in itself was merely +an annoyance, as in the meanwhile the secret service head could go +elsewhere. There was nothing for it but to discharge her and let +her go. So Lichtenstein said presently, and then wrote with a +pencil on a card. This card he handed to the maid.</p> +<p>"Give that to your employer," he said. On the card was written: +"If anything happens to me you will be indicted for the Kaparoff +business, and there is enough evidence in a safe place to make you +pay the penalty. Lichtenstein."</p> +<p>"And now, Miss Ferris," he said, "it will be as well to let this +girl first telephone to her master to say that I am here, and +second to pack her trunks and go."</p> +<p>Barbara smiled, but not unkindly, at Marion, and nodded her +brightly colored head. "I think that will be best, Marion."</p> +<p>The maid turned without a word and started for the hall-door, +but was brought to a trembling stop by sudden words from +Bubbles.</p> +<p>"Miss Barbara," said he, "ask her where your diamond bow-knot +went!"</p> +<p>"Oh," exclaimed Lichtenstein, "an excuse for keeping an eye on +her, perhaps. That was what we needed. How about this bow-knot, +Marion?"</p> +<p>The guilt in the girl's face must have been obvious to the +dullest eye.</p> +<p>"Oh," said Barbara, "is it good enough? She'd communicate with +him somehow. This isn't the Middle Ages. Marion, if by any chance +any of my things have gotten mixed with yours, please leave them on +my dressing-table."</p> +<p>Marion, very red in the face, lurched out of the room.</p> +<p>"I can't very well give her a character," said Barbara.</p> +<p>Lichtenstein laughed. "Plenty of worse girls," he said, "receive +excellent characters daily. And now I suppose I ought to put +distance between this house and myself."</p> +<p>Barbara lifted her eyebrows. "Why?"</p> +<p>"Why? She's probably working the telephone now."</p> +<p>"I know," said Barbara, "but if you pretend to go, and then come +back, this would be the last home in the world that Blizzard would +suspect you of hiding in. Marion will tell him her story. And he +certainly won't look for you here."</p> +<p>Lichtenstein's face was wreathed in smiles, "So be it," he said, +"and I shall sit at your feet to learn."</p> +<p>"Can you drive a car?" asked Barbara.</p> +<p>"What kind of a car?"</p> +<p>"A Stoughton? But if you can drive any kind you can drive a +Stoughton. We'll lend you a car and you shall take a long run and +come back when it's dark. If you start at once, Marion will know of +it. Meanwhile I'll tell my father all about everything. But first +of all I'm dying with curiosity to know what you wrote on that +card. That's all I can say. Of course if I'm not to be told--"</p> +<p>Had she asked for his dearest secret Lichtenstein could not have +refused it, and he told her what he had written on the card.</p> +<p>"But why," said Barbara, "if you have a criminal, so to speak, +where you want him--why let him be free to make more mischief? I +ask merely for information."</p> +<p>"If he were punished for an ordinary crime," said Lichtenstein, +"justice would be cheated. But if we can really get him where we +want him, why, not only crime will be tried and found guilty, but +the whole fabric of the police--yes, and the administration of the +law. Therefore," and his voice was cold as marble, "it would be +inadvisable to run him in for such picayune crimes as twisting lead +pipe round young women and throwing them overboard, or otherwise +delicately quieting tongues that might be made to wag against him. +And now if you are going to lend me a car--"</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="XLI"></a>XLI</h2> +<br> +<p>Wilmot Allen was surprised and annoyed at being called back to +New York by his employer. He had not "gotten over" Barbara in the +least, but the great West had entered his blood. Thanks to +financial arrangements with Blizzard he had lived a life free from +care, and indeed had grown and developed in many ways, just as a +forest tree will, to which air and sunlight has been admitted by +removing its nearest neighbors, together with all their claims upon +the rainfall and the tree-food locked up in the forest soil,</p> +<p>He had grown in body and mind. Wall Street, that had seemed so +broad and important to him, now seemed narrow and insignificant. It +was better for a man, a good horse between his knees, to find out +what lay beyond the Ridges than whether steel was going up or down. +He looked back upon his past life, not, it is true, with contempt +and loathing, but with amused tolerance, as a man wise and reliable +looks back upon the pranks of his boyhood.</p> +<p>He loved Barbara with all his heart, but no longer with the +feeling that the loss of her would put an end to all the +possibilities of life. Indeed he was coolly resolved in the event +of her marrying somebody else to marry somebody else himself. The +thought of children and a home had grown very dear to him. In +short, he had assimilated a characteristic of the great unsettled +West, where the ratio of the male of the species to the female is +often as great as ten to one.</p> +<p>But if the year did not cure him of Barbara he would get her if +he could.</p> +<p>To the main line was a day's journey over a single-track road +abounding in undeveloped way stations, at which an insatiable +locomotive was forever stopping to drink. At one of these stations +a young man taller and broader even than Wilmot himself, and like +him bearded and brown as autumn leaves, boarded the train +laboriously and came down the aisle occasionally catching at the +backs of seats for support.</p> +<p>A second look assured Wilmot that the stranger was not drunk, +but sick or hurt, and he was wondering whether or not to offer him +assistance, when the stranger suddenly stopped and smiled, steadied +himself with one hand, and held out the other.</p> +<p>"I heard that you would be on this train," he said simply, "so I +managed to catch it, too. May I sit with you?"</p> +<p>Wondering, Wilmot made room for the stranger and waited +developments. But as these were not at once forthcoming he felt +that he must break a silence which seemed awkward to him. And he +turned his head and saw that the man had fainted.</p> +<p>A request for whiskey addressed to a car containing a dozen men +accustomed to wrest metals from the earth was not in vain. Wilmot +chose the nearest of twelve outstretched flasks, and was obliged to +refuse a thirteenth in the kindly hand of the conductor.</p> +<p>"Fed better?"</p> +<p>"Thanks, I'm all right."</p> +<p>The twelve miners withdrew tactfully to their seats.</p> +<p>"Sure?"</p> +<p>"Sure. Just let me sample that brand again. Good. Now if you +don't mind I'll say what I came to say."</p> +<p>"But aren't you hurt--isn't there something to do?"</p> +<p>"I've <i>been</i> hurt. I'm just weak. Don't think about it. But +you're Mr. Wilmot Allen all right, aren't you?"</p> +<p>"Yes."</p> +<p>"It's hard to be sure of a man you never knew and who's grown a +beard since you saw him last."</p> +<p>"I assure you," Wilmot smiled, "that I'm only waiting to reach a +first-class barber-shop."</p> +<p>"Perhaps you will change your mind."</p> +<p>"Why should I?"</p> +<p>"You know a man named O'Hagan?"</p> +<p>Wilmot nodded.</p> +<p>"I had a talk with him up in the mountains yesterday. He spoke +truth for once. You know a man in New York--Blizzard?"</p> +<p>"He's been a good friend to me."</p> +<p>"Why?" asked the stranger.</p> +<p>"I don't know. I've asked myself that question a thousand +times."</p> +<p>"He's helped you with your debts in return for your services in +teaching a lot of foreigners to shoot straight?"</p> +<p>Wilmot frowned.</p> +<p>"Did it ever occur to you that he could have obtained half a +dozen teachers for a tenth of the money?"</p> +<p>"That <i>has</i> occurred to me," said Wilmot stiffly.</p> +<p>"Obviously then he has some ulterior use for you."</p> +<p>"Very possibly."</p> +<p>"Please don't take offence. There are reasons why you shouldn't. +I am coming to them. Remember, O'Hagan talked to me, and talked +truth. Blizzard is planning a revolution. You are to be one of the +leaders. You imagine that one of the hell-governed Latin republics +is to be the seat of operations, or you wouldn't have gone into the +thing. But Blizzard is after bigger game than undeveloped +wildernesses. Mr. Allen, you are part of a conspiracy to overthrow +the government of New York City."</p> +<p>"Say that again."</p> +<p>The stranger smiled. "O'Hagan at the last made a clean breast of +everything. He had to. I came West to make him."</p> +<p>"At the <i>last</i>? What does that mean?"</p> +<p>"When a man won't talk you have to make him--even if you fix him +so that he can never talk again."</p> +<p>"Is O'Hagan <i>dead</i>?"</p> +<p>"He had his choice. But he <i>had</i> to talk. If I had let him +off afterward--I couldn't have gotten away with the information. +One of us had to go out, and I had the power to decide which. I +chose that O'Hagan should be the one. He was a man steeped in +crime. I am not."</p> +<p>"You killed him?"</p> +<p>"I am a very poor talker if I have conveyed another meaning. I +tracked him into the mountains. He shot me twice before I could get +my hands on him. I twisted the truth out of him, and then as I was +about to faint like a school-girl, and as my information was +precious, I flung him over a cliff. If I hadn't, you see, he could +have fixed me while I was unconscious."</p> +<p>The man's voice was very quiet, very matter-of-fact. Wilmot +stared at him with a sort of wondering horror, for he knew that the +man was telling the truth.</p> +<p>"He shot you twice. That was some time yesterday. You've seen a +doctor?"</p> +<p>"There was none, and I had to ride all night to get here."</p> +<p>"Are you badly hit?"</p> +<p>The stranger drew back his coat and disclosed a shirt twice +perforated over the abdomen and dark with dried and thickening +blood. "Please don't try to do anything. There's no help. The +damage is where it doesn't show. Only listen, please, and believe, +and be frank with me."</p> +<p>Wilmot nodded gravely. "I don't know who you are," he said, "but +you are hurt, and if you'd rather talk than try to do something +about it, of course I'll listen."</p> +<br> +<a name="page290.jpg"></a> +<p class="ctr"><img src="images/page290.jpg" width="45%" alt= +""><br> +<b>"I twisted the truth out of him, and then flung him over a +cliff".</b></p> +<br> +<p>"You are in wrong on the revolution," said the stranger. "It is +not to come off in South America, but in the city of New York. If +Blizzard's plans carry, this will happen. On the 15th of January +there will be an explosion of dynamite loud enough to be heard +from, the Battery to the Bronx. At that signal two-thirds of the +police force, at the moment on active duty, will be shot dead in +their tracks. The assassins, distinguished from law-abiding +citizens by straw hats of a peculiar weave--"</p> +<p>"I have such a hat in my trunk."</p> +<p>"Are to assemble together with that third of the police force +whom it was not necessary to annihilate, at the Sub-Treasury in +Wall Street. Here they will receive further orders--some to loot +the Sub-Treasury, some to loot banks, some Tiffany's, some the +great wholesale jewellers of Maiden Lane. You, perhaps, as a man of +superior talk and breeding, would be sent with a picked crew of +Polacks, dagoes, and other high-minded patriots to rifle the +Metropolitan Museum of Art--"</p> +<p>"Look here, did O'Hagan--"</p> +<p>"He did. Meanwhile all communication by telephone, by telegraph, +by cable between New York and the outer world will be cut off. For +at least twenty-four hours the city will be in Blizzard's power, at +his, disposition."</p> +<p>"How about communication by train?"</p> +<p>"Trains will come into the Grand Central and the Pennsylvania, +but they will not go out."</p> +<p>"A man could jump into an automobile and carry the news."</p> +<p>"Ferries will stop running. Bridges will be closed."</p> +<p>The idea of looting New York had fired Wilmot's imagination. It +was a possibility to which he had never before given any +thought,</p> +<p>"But," he objected, "there must be a flaw somewhere."</p> +<p>"Probably," admitted the stranger. "For there is a flaw in +Blizzard's mind. It is the only way to account for him. He stands +on the verge of insanity."</p> +<p>"Suppose the plan carries. The city has been looted. What +next?"</p> +<p>"The stuff is hidden under Blizzard's house in Marrow Lane in +cellars that he has been preparing for years. A passage leads from +these cellars to a pier on the East River. Either he gets away with +his loot in a stolen liner, or he finds that he may live on in New +York, or perhaps in Washington."</p> +<p>"I don't see that."</p> +<p>"What effect would a successful revolution in New York have upon +the discontented and the murderous of other cities? Are the +criminals of San Francisco, Denver, Chicago to be outdone by the +criminals of the effete East? I tell you, Mr. Allen, that sometimes +in mad visions the legless beggar sees upon his brows a kingly +crown."</p> +<p>"But the rest of the police--the garrison at Governor's +Island?"</p> +<p>"O'Hagan was Blizzard's right-hand man, his general in the West. +For the honor of being his left-hand man there are two +aspirants--the mayor of New York City and the police +commissioner--nor will the lieutenant-governor of our great State +hold his hands behind his back and shake his head when the loot is +being distributed."</p> +<p>"Are you <i>joking?"</i></p> +<p>"No, Mr. Allen. I am dying. Now listen. I assume that you are no +longer with Blizzard."</p> +<p>"What an ass I've been!"</p> +<p>"You are to find Abe Lichtenstein and tell him what I have told +you. The boy Bubbles will put you on his track. As for money which +Blizzard has advanced to you--" The stranger fumbled in his breast +pocket and brought forth a much-soiled sheet of paper. "This +locates outlying mining claims in Utah. They will make you rich. +One-third to you--one-third to Miss Barbara Ferris--one-third to +the boy Bubbles. You will tell him that I was his +brother--different mothers, but the same father."</p> +<p>"<i>You</i> are Harry West," and Wilmot looked with +compassionate interest upon the man who, if only for a brief period +of time, had once stood first in Barbara's affections.</p> +<p>Under the strain of talking West's voice had grown weaker. "Miss +Barbara," he said quietly, "is in great danger from my +father--"</p> +<p>"<i>Your</i> father?"</p> +<p>"Didn't I tell you? Oh, yes. He is my father--Blizzard. That is +why I don't mind dying. When the city is in confusion, and without +any laws save of his own dictation, Miss Barbara will be in +terrible danger. Many years from now, when it can do no harm with +you, tell her, please, that in my life I had the incomparable +privilege--"</p> +<p>Wilmot leaped to his feet. "Is there a doctor here? This man is +dying."</p> +<p>But the Spartan, the wolf Death gnawing at his vitals, had said +all that it was necessary for him to say. Wilmot Allen's strong arm +about him, his mouth vaguely smiling, he fell heavily forward as if +under the weight of a new and overpowering wonder and +knowledge.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="XLII"></a>XLII</h2> +<br> +<p>Nothing so makes for insomnia as a man's knowledge that he has +made a fool of himself. Between Chicago and New York Wilmot Allen +did not even have his berth made up. He visited the dining-car at +the proper intervals, hardly conscious of what he ordered or ate. +He bought newspapers, books, magazines, and opened none of them. +For the most part he looked out the window of his compartment into +rushing daylight or darkness. His mind kept travelling the round of +a great circle that began and ended in humiliation. He had been as +confiding in Blizzard's hands as an undeveloped child of seven. He +had been teaching men whose creed was murder and anarchy how to +handle weapons. He had taken at their face value words uttered by +an emperor among scoundrels; had asked no material or leading +questions, and was in his conscience paying the penalty for having +snatched at tainted money with which to relieve himself of +obligations that pressed till they hurt.</p> +<p>Beginning in humiliation, the circle of his thoughts ascended +time after time to Barbara, only to fall from the high and tender +lights which memories and anticipations of her brought into them, +back to that darkness in which he struggled to give himself "a +little the best of things" and could not.</p> +<p>On arriving in New York a man of more complex mental processes +would have tried first of all to get the precious information which +he carried into the possession of Lichtenstein, but Wilmot felt +that he could have no peace until he had seen Blizzard, spoken his +mind, and washed his hands of him. That he would then put his own +life in danger did not occur to him, and would not have altered his +determination if it had.</p> +<p>The lure of Barbara, however, drew him aside from the direct +path to Marrow Lane. He had resolved not to see her for a year, but +thought it right to break through that resolution in order to tell +her at first hand of Harry West's death. But the janitor told him +that Miss Ferris had not been coming to the studio for a long time. +She had had no word from her. She had left one day by the back +stair without her hat; a little later the legless beggar had left +by the front door. His expression had been enough to frighten a +body to death. Yes, the boy had come one day in a taxicab and gone +away with her things. He had refused to answer any questions. She +had never thought very highly of him as a boy. No, the bust upon +which Miss Ferris had been at work had not been removed. No, the +gentleman could not see it. Orders were orders.... Yes, the +gentleman could see it. After all there had been no orders +recently.</p> +<p>She led the way upstairs, her hand tightly closed upon a +greenback. She unlocked and flung open the door of Barbara's +studio, remarking that nothing in it had been touched since that +lady's departure.</p> +<p>Wilmot noticed much dust, an overturned chair, and then his eyes +rose to the bust of Blizzard as to a living presence. The +expression of that bestial fallen face made his spine feel as if +ants were crawling on it. And he turned away with disgust and +hatred. "Oh, Barbs, Barbs, what a wrong-headed little darling you +are!" But he added: "And Lord, what a talent she's got!"</p> +<p>Blizzard was not in his office. But he was upstairs and expected +Mr. Allen.</p> +<p>A girl who had been wonderfully pretty told Wilmot these things. +She would have been wonderfully pretty still, for she was very +young, if she had not looked so tired, so unhappy, so +broken-spirited. Did Rose still love the man for whom she had +betrayed her friends and her own better nature? Yes. But she had +learned that she was no more to him than a plaything--to caress or +to break as seemed most amusing to him. At first until the novelty +of her had worn off he had shown her a sufficiency of brusque +tenderness. Latterly as his great plans matured he had been all +brute. Sometimes he made her feel that he was so surfeited with her +love that he considered killing her.</p> +<p>Sideways, with eyes haunted by shame and tragedy, she gave the +handsome bearded youth a look of compassion. "In here, please," she +said.</p> +<p>The door closed behind Wilmot with an ominous click, and he +found himself face to face with the legless beggar. In this one's +eyes, seen above a table littered with pamphlets and writings, was +none of that mock affability to which he had formerly treated +Wilmot Allen. He looked angry, dangerous, poisonous. And he broke +into a harsh, ugly laugh.</p> +<p>"It takes you," he said, "to rush in where angels fear to tread. +Welcome to my parlor! What a fool! My God! You heard what Harry +West had to say before he died, and you came straight here."</p> +<p>"I don't know how you know it. But I did talk to your son. I did +hear what he said. And I came here to tell you. And to tell you +that there will be no more dealings between us. I am going straight +from here to tell the proper authorities what I know."</p> +<p>"Aren't you going to punch my face first? That's what you'd like +to do. It's in your eyes. But you're afraid."</p> +<p>"I am not afraid," said Wilmot, "and you know it."</p> +<p>For answer the legless man picked up a silver dollar from among +the papers in front of him, and broke it savagely into four pieces. +"Afraid!" he said. "Afraid! Afraid!"</p> +<p>Wilmot took a step forward. "It would give me the greatest +pleasure," he said quietly, "to knock your head off. Unfortunately +you are a cripple."</p> +<p>Blizzard said nothing, and presently, white with anger and +contempt, Wilmot turned and tried the handle of the door by which +he had entered. Blizzard laughed.</p> +<br> +<a name="page298.jpg"></a> +<p class="ctr"><img src="images/page298.jpg" width="50%" alt= +""><br> +<b>"Climb out of that chair, and let me out of this house".</b></p> +<br> +<p>"This door is locked," said Wilmot.</p> +<p>"You are a prisoner in this house."</p> +<p>"I am, am I?"</p> +<p>Quick as lightning he had drawn and levelled at the legless man +an automatic pistol of the largest calibre. The legless man did not +move an inch, change expression, or take his eyes from +Wilmot's.</p> +<p>Wilmot advanced till only the table separated them. "You will," +he said, "climb out of that chair, and let me out of this house, +walking in front of me."</p> +<p>The legless beggar appeared to consider the matter. There was +silence. Wilmot shifted the position of his feet, and the floor +boards under them creaked.</p> +<p>Blizzard appeared to have made up his mind. He spread his hands +on the table as if to help himself out of his chair. The palm of +his right hand, unknown to Wilmot, covered an electric +push-button.</p> +<p>"Perhaps," said Blizzard, "you won't be in such a hurry to go +after you hear that Miss Barbara Ferris is also a prisoner in this +house--"</p> +<p>In horror and bewilderment Wilmot allowed the muzzle of his +automatic to swerve. In that moment the palm of the legless man's +right hand pressed upon the button, and the square of the floor +upon which Wilmot stood dropped like the trap of a gallows, and he +fell through the opening into darkness.</p> +<p>He was neither stunned nor bruised, and he began to grope about +for the pistol which in the sudden descent had been knocked from +his hand. The only light came from the open trap in the floor +above. Something fell softly at his feet; he picked it up. It was a +cloth, saturated with chloroform. He flung it from him, and began +with a new haste to grope and fumble for his pistol.</p> +<p>Another cloth fell, and another. Distant and ugly laughter fell +with them. More cloths, and already the air in the place reeked +with chloroform.</p> +<p>He no longer knew what he was looking for, and when at last his +hand closed upon the stock of the automatic, he did not know what +it was that he had found.</p> +<p>Another cloth fell.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="XLIII"></a>XLIII</h2> +<br> +<p>He came to in a narrow iron bed, weak, nauseated, and +handcuffed. He could rub his feet together, but he could not +separate them. He had been dreaming about Barbara--horrible dreams. +His first conscious thought was that she, too, was a prisoner in +the house of Blizzard, and that somehow or other he must save her. +Having tried in vain to break the bright, delicate-looking +handcuffs, he tried in vain to think calmly. Hours passed. Nobody +came. He worked himself gradually into a fever of impotent rage. +Civilization slipped away from him. He was ready, if necessary, to +fight with his teeth, to gouge eyes, to inflict any barbarous +atrocity upon his enemy.</p> +<p>Gradually, for the air in the room was fresh, the feeling of +sickness passed away, and was succeeded by weakness and lassitude. +As a matter of fact, being a strong man, in splendid health, he was +faint from hunger. But he did not know this.</p> +<p>An elderly woman came softly into the room. She wore a blue +dress, a white apron, a white kerchief, white cuffs, a white cap. +Her face was disfigured by a great brown protruding mole from which +a tuft of hair sprouted; she had an expression of methodical +kindness, but small shifting eyes in which was no honesty.</p> +<p>She carried a cup that smoked. She put the cup on a table, +lifted Wilmot to a sitting position, as if he had been a child, and +asked him if he was hungry.</p> +<p>For a moment he did not answer; he was getting used to the +discovery that he had been undressed and was wearing a linen +night-gown. Then he nodded toward the smoking cup.</p> +<p>"How do I know it isn't poisoned?"</p> +<p>"Come--come," said the woman, "you'd have gone out under the +chloroform if that had been the intention. Better keep your +strength up."</p> +<p>After a few spoonfuls of the soup, Wilmot suggested that he +should prefer something solid.</p> +<p>The woman shook her head.</p> +<p>"If I'm to be kept alive," he said petulantly, "why not +comfortably?"</p> +<p>"Nothing solid. That's the doctor's orders."</p> +<p>"Blizzard's?"</p> +<p>"No. The doctor."</p> +<p>"What doctor?"</p> +<p>"Why, Dr. Ferris."</p> +<p>"Where is he? I want to speak to him."</p> +<p>"He isn't here. He's coming when everything's ready."</p> +<p>"Everything ready?" A nameless fear began to gnaw at Wilmot's +vitals. And at that moment the door swung open, and he saw, beyond +the bulking head and shoulders of the legless man, a narrow iron +table, white and shining, in a room all glass and white paint.</p> +<p>On the entrance of Blizzard, the woman took up the remains of +the soup, and passed noiselessly out of the room.</p> +<p>Blizzard climbed to the foot of Wilmot's bed, and sat looking at +him. In his eyes there was a glitter of suppressed excitement. +"When our last talk was interrupted," he said, "I had just told you +that Miss Ferris is a prisoner in this house. You don't like the +idea?"</p> +<p>Wilmot shuddered and made a convulsive effort to break the +handcuffs. He struggled with them in desperate silence for nearly a +minute.</p> +<p>"I might break them," said Blizzard, "but you can't. Try to be +as reasonable as you can. Miss Ferris is in no immediate danger. I +am going to let her go, if you and I can agree."</p> +<p>"What do you want <i>me</i> to agree to?"</p> +<p>"I've had it in mind for a long time. It was why I relieved you +of money cares, and sent you West. I wished to put you in a state +of perfect health before trying an experiment of the utmost +interest and value to science. Only your consent is now wanting. +Upon that consent depends Miss Ferris's fate. Refuse and I leave +your lover heart to imagine what that fate may be. She is +absolutely in my power--absolutely. Do you know her writing?"</p> +<p>He smiled a little and held before Wilmot's eyes a sheet of +note-paper.</p> +<p>"She has just written it," he said, "of her own free will."</p> +<p>Wilmot read: "I will marry you, as soon as I know that Wilmot +Allen is out of your power and safe in life and limb."</p> +<p>A sort of ecstasy, half anguish and half delight, thrilled +through Wilmot. The writing was unmistakably Barbara's--and she was +ready to make that sacrifice for him!</p> +<p>"She sha'n't do that," he said, "so help me God. What must I +do--to save her?"</p> +<p>"Young man," said the legless man, "you must give me your +legs."</p> +<p>Wilmot was at first bewildered.</p> +<p>"My legs?"</p> +<p>"They are to be grafted on my poor old stumps," said Blizzard. +"You won't die. You'll just be as I am now. And I--I," his eyes +shone with an unholy light, "shall be as you are now--a biped--a +real man--a giant of a man. You are going to consent?"</p> +<p>"How do I know that you will let Miss Ferris go?"</p> +<p>"You shall have news of her freedom and safety in her own +writing."</p> +<p>"When I have that assurance," said Wilmot, "I will consent to +anything. Any decent man would give his life for a woman--why not +his legs? Is Dr. Ferris to operate?"</p> +<p>"He will be the chief of three surgeons."</p> +<p>"But he won't cut off my legs. We're old friends. He--"</p> +<p>"Won't know you in that beard. I have told him that you are a +murderer whom I have saved from the chair. That in gratitude for +this and for the further services of smuggling you out of the +country and giving you a large sum of money--not forgetting the +crying interests of science--you have consented to give me your +legs. He will ask you if you consent to have your legs cut off, and +you will nod your head without speaking--then when my old stumps +have been prepared--you will be put under an anaesthetic--"</p> +<p>"First I must know that Miss Ferris is safe."</p> +<p>"Give me your word of honor that when you <i>know</i> that she +is--you will consent."</p> +<p>"I don't know what you have to do with honor," said Wilmot, "but +I give my word."</p> +<p>"Then," said Blizzard, sliding to the floor, "I go to set Miss +Ferris free."</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="XLIV"></a>XLIV</h2> +<br> +<p>At first Barbara could not bear to tell her father, but at last +her excitement and distress became so great that she had to tell +him. In a few hours she had changed from a radiant person to one +white, sick, and shadowed.</p> +<p>"I've seen that man," she said. "I was writing notes in the +summer-house. He--"</p> +<p>"What man--Blizzard? Well?"</p> +<p>"I've promised to marry him. He has Wilmot Allen in his +house--in his power. He told me that if I would marry him, he would +let Wilmot go. If I wouldn't, he would kill him with indescribable +tortures. I told him that I would marry him when I learned that +Wilmot was safe. And so I will, and then I will kill myself. You've +got to do something. I never knew till he was in this awful danger +that in all the world there was never anybody for me but +Wilmot--fool not to know it in time."</p> +<p>Dr. Ferris made her drink something that he mixed in a glass. In +a few minutes her jumping nerves began to come into control.</p> +<br> +<a name="page306.jpg"></a> +<p class="ctr"><img src="images/page306.jpg" width="45%" alt= +""><br> +<b>"I've seen that man. I was writing notes in the summer house +when he came".</b></p> +<br> +<p>"Wilmot," said he, "will never consent to save himself at your +expense. And I think I can promise you that Blizzard will do +nothing in this matter for some time. He is to undergo a very +serious operation to-night. It has all been arranged. A man under +obligation to Blizzard has consented to give his legs--I am to +operate. Don't look at me like that, daughter. I have given my word +that if I thought the thing could be done, I would do it. The man +consents. There is no reason why I shouldn't. I would do more to +undo what I have done, and in the interests of science."</p> +<p>"You don't understand. The man who <i>consents</i> is +Wilmot."</p> +<p>"Did Blizzard tell you so?"</p> +<p>"Nobody has told me. I know it. He consents so that I may go +free."</p> +<p>"Of course if Wilmot is the man--"</p> +<p>"You couldn't--you wouldn't do it to <i>him</i>, father."</p> +<p>"And you so in love with him, my dear! We must go to the +police."</p> +<p>"No, we mustn't. He said that if we tried to play any tricks, we +might get him, but never Wilmot, alive. Don't you see? Father, the +man isn't fit to live. He's insane."</p> +<p>"Answer wanted, Miss Barbara." Bubbles entered hesitatingly, a +note in his hand.</p> +<p>One glance at the superscription, and Barbara ripped open the +envelope. She read the note and her brows contracted with pain. +"Read that, father."</p> +<p>Dr. Ferris read:</p> +<blockquote>DEAREST BARBS:<br> +<br> +I can't help breaking my silence to say I love you with my whole +heart and soul. Only tell me that you are safe and sound in your +father's house. I want much to know that, for I am on the brink of +a great, a dangerous, and I think a noble venture.<br> +<br> +WILMOT.</blockquote> +<br> +<p>"What did I tell you!" she exclaimed. "Who brought this, +Bubbles?"</p> +<p>"Nobody--a messenger-boy."</p> +<p>"Barbara," said her father, "write that you are safe at home. +I'll tell Lichtenstein what has happened. He's our best advice. +Where is Mr. Lichtenstein, Bubbles?"</p> +<p>"In his room, sir, writing."</p> +<p>Dr. Ferris left hurriedly, and Bubbles, gnawed by unsatisfied +curiosity, stood first on one foot and then on the other while +Barbara wrote to Wilmot. Somehow it was a very difficult note to +write, for she felt sure that it would not be read by Wilmot's eyes +alone, and she didn't wish by a syllable further to incite the +legless man against his prisoner. So at last she merely wrote that +she was with her father at Clovelly. What she wanted to write was +that her love for him had grown and grown until she was sure of +it.</p> +<p>After Bubbles had gone with the note she sat for a long time +without moving, silent and white.</p> +<p>When her father returned, bringing Lichtenstein, he, too, was +white. "I am going to town at once," he said. "God willing, I shall +have only good news for you."</p> +<p>Barbara turned to Lichtenstein. "You've thought out +something?"</p> +<p>He nodded gravely.</p> +<br> +<a name="page308-309.jpg"></a> +<p class="ctr"><img src="images/page308-309.jpg" width="95%" alt= +""><br> +<b>"Read that, father".</b></p> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="XLV"></a>XLV</h2> +<br> +<p>"My treasure! My ownest own!"</p> +<p>Rose cowered from the cold malice in the legless man's voice, +and from the unearthly subdued excitement in his eyes.</p> +<p>"Sit there opposite me. Don't be afraid. Things are coming my +way. To-morrow I shall have a pair of legs. Think of that! Are you +thinking of it?"</p> +<p>She nodded.</p> +<p>The legless man wiped his mouth with the palm of his hand. "I +told him," he said, "that she was a prisoner in this house. He said +he would give me his legs if I would let her go free. He wrote a +note asking if she was safe and sound. I sent it out to her place +where she was all the time, and of course she answered that she was +safe and sound."</p> +<p>He chuckled, and his agate eyes appeared to give off sparks.</p> +<p>"But she," he went on, "has promised to marry me, if I will let +<i>him</i> go free. They love each other, Rose. They love each +other! But I'm not jealous. It won't come to anything. First I will +get his legs. Then, if he lives, I will make him write to her that +he <i>is</i> sound and free. I will tell her that he refused to +sacrifice himself. That will make her hate him, and then we'll be +married and live happily ever after. But if she breaks her word, +why on the 15th of January she will be taken, wherever she is, and +brought here, and we--we <i>won't</i> be married!" He laughed a +long, ugly laugh.</p> +<p>"What are you going to do with me?"</p> +<p>The legless man considered, "I'm afraid you'll be too jealous to +have about, my pretty Rose. I'm afraid your love for me will turn +into a different feeling--in spite of the beautiful new legs that I +shall have. In short, my dear, knowing women as I do, you are one +of my greatest problems. If I could be sure that you wouldn't give +anything away before the 15th--after that it wouldn't matter."</p> +<p>"Are you leading up to the announcement that you are going to +kill me?" She looked him straight in the eyes, and began to shiver +as if she was very cold.</p> +<p>"Wouldn't that be best," he asked, "for everybody +concerned?"</p> +<p>"I swear to God I won't give anything away," she said.</p> +<p>He continued to smile in her face. "I could do it for you," he +said, "so delicately--so painlessly--with my hands--and your +troubles would be all over."</p> +<p>He took her slender white neck between the palms of his great +hairy hands and caressed it. She did not shrink from his touch.</p> +<p>"Rose," he said presently and with the brutal and tigerish +quality gone from his voice, "you're brave. But I know women too +well. I don't trust you. If you'd screamed then or shown fear in +any way, you'd be dead now. After the 15th you shall do what you +please with your life. Meanwhile, my dear, lock and key for +yours."</p> +<p>"You'll come to see me sometimes?"</p> +<p>"After to-night, I shall be laid up for a while, growing a pair +of legs. Later I'll look in, now and then. How about a little +music, before you retire to your room for the next few months? I'll +tell you a secret. I'm nervous about to-night, and frightened. A +little Beethoven? to soothe our nerves? the Adagio from the +Pathétique?"</p> +<p>He stumped beside her, holding her hand as a child holds that of +its nurse; but for a different reason.</p> +<p>That night, securely locked in her own room next to his, she +slept at last from sheer weariness. And she dreamed that he was +playing to her, for her--the Adagio, and then the "Funeral March of +a Hero."</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="XLVI"></a>XLVI</h2> +<br> +<p>Occasionally now, for a long time, there had been coming from +the next room the dink of steel against steel, a murmur of hushed +voices, and a sound of several pairs of feet moving softly. With +the exception of two cups of soup, Wilmot, in preparation for what +he was to undergo, had had nothing to eat. What with this and the +natural commotion of revolt in his whole nervous system, he was +weak and faint.</p> +<p>The door opened, and Dr. Ferris came quietly into the room and +bent over him. He was in white linen from head to foot, and wore +upon his hands a pair of thin rubber gloves, glistening with the +water in which they had been boiling.</p> +<p>Prepared to find Wilmot, he naturally recognized him, in spite +of the beard which so changed the young man's face for the worse; +but of this recognition he gave no sign. The legless man, alert for +any possibility of self-betrayal on Wilmot's part, had followed him +into the room. Dr. Ferris spoke very quickly:</p> +<p>"My man," he said, "is it true that of your own free will, in +exchange for immunity and other benefits received, you consent to +the amputation of both your legs, as near the hip-joint as may be +found necessary?"</p> +<p>Wilmot drew a long breath, focussed his mind upon bright +memories of Barbara, and slowly nodded.</p> +<p>"You are quite sure? You are holding back nothing? There has +been no coercion?"</p> +<p>"It's all right," chirped in Blizzard. "Glad of the chance to +pay me back, aren't you, my boy?"</p> +<p>For a moment Wilmot's eyes rested with a cold contempt on the +beggar's. And he thought, "to save her from that!" and once more +nodded.</p> +<p>"Shall I tell them to bring the ether, doctor?"</p> +<p>Dr. Ferris turned his head slowly.</p> +<p>"What are <i>you</i> doing here?" he said, in his smiling +professional voice. "You ought to be undressed, scrubbed, and ready +for the anaesthetic yourself."</p> +<p>"But I thought--I thought you'd make sure of the legs first, +before you did anything to me."</p> +<p>"The success of graftage," said the doctor, "lies in the speed +with which the parts to be grafted can be transferred from one +patient to the other. In this case, the two operations will proceed +at the same time--side by side. There are four of us, and two +nurses to do what is necessary--now if you will go and get +ready."</p> +<p>"Frankly, doctor, do you think the chances of success are +good?"</p> +<p>Dr. Ferris's voice rang out heartily. "Splendid!" he said, +"splendid!" He turned once more to Wilmot. "I am sorry for you," he +said kindly, "but you are willing that we should go ahead, aren't +you?"</p> +<p>Blizzard stood, hesitating.</p> +<p>"Not losing your nerve?" asked the surgeon, and there was the +least hint of mockery in his voice.</p> +<p>"Hope this is the last time I have to walk on stumps," Blizzard +answered, and he began to move toward the door.</p> +<p>"I hope so, too, Blizzard," said Dr. Ferris, "with all my +heart." And with an encouraging nod to Wilmot he followed the +beggar out of the room, and closed the door behind him.</p> +<p>In the operating quarter were two nurses on whom Dr. Ferris had +been able to rely for many years, and three clean-cut young +surgeons, in whom he had detected more than ordinary talents.</p> +<p>"He said he'd send word when he was ready," said one of the +nurses.</p> +<p>"Good," said Dr. Ferris, "for I have a few words to say to you +all, knowing that, because of the etiquette of our profession, +these words will not go any further."</p> +<p>For five minutes he spoke quietly and gravely. He told them his +relations with Blizzard since the beginning. And something of +Blizzard's relations, subsequent to the loss of his legs, with the +rest of the world. Then he explained the operation which he was +<i>expected</i> to perform, enlarging upon both its chances for +success and for failure. And then, much to the astonishment of his +audience, he brought his talk to an end with these words:</p> +<p>"But in this instance the operation has no chance whatever of +success. The stump of a limb amputated in childhood does not keep +pace with the rest of the body-growth. And we should be trying to +graft the legs of a grown man upon the hips of a child. It seems, +therefore, that I have brought you here under false pretenses. +Technically I am going to commit a crime--I am going to perform an +operation not thought of or sanctioned by the patient. But my +conscience is clear. When I examined the child Blizzard after he +had been run over, I did not give the attention which would be +given nowadays to minor injuries, bruises, and contusions which he +had sustained. From all accounts the boy was a good boy up to the +time of his accident. In taking off his legs I have blamed myself +for the whole of his subsequent downfall. I think I have been +wrong. The man was once arrested for a crime, and freed on police +perjury. During his incarceration, however, accurate measurements +and a description of him were made. Only to-day a copy of this +document has been shown to me, by a gentleman high in the secret +service. And it seems that Blizzard is differentiated from other +legless men, by a mole under one arm, and by a curious protuberance +on the back of his head--and I believe that his moral delinquency +is not owing to the despair and humiliation of being a cripple, but +to skull-pressure upon the brain."</p> +<p>The three young surgeons looked at each other. One of them +started to voice a protest.</p> +<p>"But, doctor--it's--you're asking a good deal of us. I don't +know that I personally--"</p> +<p>Three knocks sounded quietly on a door of the room. Dr. Ferris, +breaking into a smile of relief, sprang to open it.</p> +<p>In the rectangle appeared Lichtenstein; he was dripping wet from +head to foot and carried in one hand a heavy blue automatic.</p> +<p>"'Fraid you couldn't make it," exclaimed the surgeon.</p> +<p>"Had to dynamite a safe down in the cellar--hear anything?"</p> +<p>Dr. Ferris shook his head, and turned to the others.</p> +<p>"Mr. Lichtenstein," he said, "of the secret service ... +Lichtenstein, some of these youngsters don't want to mix up in +this. Tell them things."</p> +<p>Lichtenstein smiled broadly. "Then I'll have to operate," he +said. And he lifted his pistol ostentatiously. "Young men," he went +on, "if you aren't willing to make a decent citizen of Blizzard, +why I must arrest him, and send him to the chair, or if he resists +arrest, I must make a decent dead man of him--"</p> +<p>In the distance there rose suddenly the powerful cries of the +legless man. "All ready," he cried, "bring on your ether."</p> +<p>"Who's going to help me?" asked Dr. Ferris.</p> +<p>The three young surgeons stepped quickly forward.</p> +<p>"Good," said Dr. Ferris. "He's strong as a bull. You come with +me, Jordyce, and you two wait within hearing just outside the +door."</p> +<p>"One moment," said Lichtenstein, "where's young Allen?"</p> +<p>"In there," said Dr. Ferris.</p> +<p>"I'll just introduce myself," said the Jew, "and tell him what's +up. He must be in a most unpleasant state of mind."</p> +<p>To Wilmot there appeared the figure of a little stout man with +red hair and a pug nose, who was dripping wet, and who smiled in an +engaging fashion.</p> +<p>"You're safe as you'd be in your own house," said the kindly +Jew; "no ether--no amputation--no nothing. And here's a note from +Miss Barbara. I'm dripping wet, but I guess the ink hasn't run so's +you can't read it."</p> +<p>Wilmot read his note, and a great light of happiness came into +his eyes,</p> +<p>"After a while," said Lichtenstein, "I'll hunt up more clothes +for you, and you can jump into a car and run out to Clovelly. Don't +let Miss Barbara see you in that beard, though."</p> +<p>"I won't," said Wilmot. "Tell me what's happened. Has Blizzard +been arrested? You're--"</p> +<p>"I'm Abe Lichtenstein--"</p> +<p>"Good Lord!" exclaimed Wilmot, "if I'd only gone straight to +you--"</p> +<p>"If you had you might never have known that Beauty would have +married the Beast--just to save young Mr. Allen pain. But why come +to me?"</p> +<p>"With information from Harry West. He had run the whole +conspiracy down. It seems--"</p> +<p>"Names--did he give names?"</p> +<p>"Yes--unbelievable names."</p> +<p>Lichtenstein's eyes narrowed with excitement.</p> +<p>In the next room there arose suddenly the sound of many feet +shuffling, as if men were carrying a heavy weight, and presently +the smell of ether began to come to them through the key-hole. And +they heard groans, and a dull, passionless voice that spoke words +of blasphemy and obscenity.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="XLVII"></a>XLVII</h2> +<br> +<p>It was rare in Dr. Ferris's experience to see a man, after an +operation, come so quickly to his senses. It was to be accounted +for by perfect health and a powerful mind. The patient lay on his +side, because of the wound on the back of his head, and into his +eyes, glazed and ether-blind, there came suddenly light and +understanding, and memory. Memory brought the sweat to his forehead +in great beads.</p> +<p>"Is it over?" he asked quickly. "Have you done the trick?"</p> +<p>"It couldn't be done."</p> +<p>"When did you find that out?"</p> +<p>"I knew it before you went under ether."</p> +<p>"Then you haven't mutilated young Allen?"</p> +<p>"No."</p> +<p>The legless man's eyes closed, and he smiled, and for perhaps a +minute dozed. He awoke saying: "Thank God for that." A moment +later: "I'm all knocked out of time--what have you done to me?"</p> +<p>"I took the liberty of freeing your brain from pressure--result +of an old accident. It can only do you good. It was hurting your +mind more and more."</p> +<p>"I'd like to sleep, but I have the horrors."</p> +<p>"What sort of horrors?"</p> +<p>"Remorse--remorse," said the legless man in a strong voice.</p> +<p>Dr. Ferris was trembling with excitement.</p> +<p>"But thank God my deal against Allen didn't go through. That's +something saved out of the burning. Where is Rose? I want +Rose."</p> +<p>"Rose?"</p> +<p>"I remember. I locked her up--in that room. The key's in the +bureau top drawer, left. I'd like her to sit by me. I want to go to +sleep. I want to forget. Time enough to remember when I'm not +sick.... That you, Rose? Sit by me and hold my hand, there's a +dear. If I need anything she'll call you, doctor. Just leave us +alone, will you?"</p> +<p>He clung to the hand, as a child clings to its mother's hand; +and there was a tenderness and trust in the clasp that thrilled the +girl to her heart.</p> +<p>"Say <i>you</i> forgive me, Rose." His voice was wheedling.</p> +<p>She leaned forward and kissed him.</p> +<p>"We got a lot to live down, Rose. Don't say we can't do it. Wait +till I'm up and around, and strong."</p> +<p>He fell asleep, breathing quietly. Two hours later he woke. Rose +had not moved.</p> +<p>"We'll begin," he said, "at once by getting married. I've +dreamed it all out. And we'll set up home in a far place. That is, +if <i>they'll</i> give me a chance. But I've never asked you--Rose, +will you marry me?"</p> +<p>"Do you want me?" She leaned forward and rested her cheek +against his.</p> +<p>"Do you understand?" he said. "We're beginning all over. You +can't undo things that you've done; but you can start out and do +the other kind of things and strike some sort of a balance--not +before man maybe--but in your own conscience. That's something. I +want to talk to Ferris. Call him, will you, and leave us."</p> +<p>"Doctor, was everything I <i>was</i> bone pressure? Ever get +drunk?"</p> +<p>Dr. Ferris nodded gravely. "In extreme youth," he said.</p> +<p>"Well, you know how the next day you remember some of the things +you did, and half remember others, and have the shakes and horrors +all around, and make up your mind you'll never do so and so again? +That's me--at this moment. But the past I'm facing is a million +times harder to face than the average spree. It covers years and +years. It's black as pitch. I don't recall any white places. +Everything that the law of man forbids I've done, and everything +that the law of God forbids. I won't detail. It's enough that I +know. Some wrongs I can put finger to and right; others have gone +their way out of reach, out of recovery. Maybe I don't sound sorry +enough? I tell you it takes every ounce of courage I've got to +remember my past, and face it. Was it all bone pressure? Am I +really changed? Am I accountable for what I did? Was it I that did +wicked things right and left, or was it somebody else that did 'em? +Another thing, is the change permanent? Am I a good man now, or am +I having some sort of a fit? Fetch me a hand-glass off the bureau, +will you?"</p> +<p>Blizzard looked at himself in the mirror.</p> +<p>"Seems to me," he said, "I've changed. Seems to me I don't look +so much--like hell, as I did. What do you think?"</p> +<p>"I think, Blizzard," said Dr. Ferris, "that when you were run +over as a child you hurt your head. I think that even if I hadn't +cut off your legs you would have grown up an enemy of society. I +think that up to the time of your accident, and since you have come +out of ether just now, are the only two periods in your life when +you have been sane, and accountable for your actions. Between these +two periods, as I see it, you were insane--clever, shrewd--all +that--but insane nevertheless. I think this--I <i>know</i> it. Even +the expression of your face has changed. You look like an honest +man, a man to be trusted, an able man, a kind man, the kind of man +you were meant to be--a good man."</p> +<p>"You really think that?"</p> +<p>"It isn't what I think, after all; it's what <i>you</i> feel. Do +you wish to be kind to people--friends with them? To do good?"</p> +<p>"That is the way I feel <i>now</i>. But, doctor--will it +last?"</p> +<p>"It's got to last. Blizzard. And you've got to stop +talking."</p> +<p>"But will they give me a chance? Lichtenstein could send me to +the chair if he wanted to."</p> +<p>"He won't do that. He will <i>understand</i>."</p> +<p>"I should like Miss Barbara to feel kindly toward me."</p> +<p>"She will. I hope that your mind has changed about her, +too?"</p> +<p>"That," said Blizzard, "is between me and my conscience. +Whatever I feel toward her will never trouble her again."</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="XLVIII"></a>XLVIII</h2> +<br> +<p>With O'Hagan dead and Blizzard turned penitent, the bottom of +course fell clean out of the scheme to loot Maiden Lane and the +Sub-Treasury. But the work of Lichtenstein and his agents had not +been in vain. Like the man in the opera Lichtenstein had a little +"list." The lieutenant-governor soon retired into private life. He +gave out that he wished to devote the remainder of his life to +philanthropic enterprises. The police commissioner resigned, owing +to ill health. Others who had counted too many unhatched chicks +went into bankruptcy. Some thousands of discontents in the West who +had been promised lucrative work in New York, about January 15th, +were advised to stick to their jobs, and to keep their mouths shut. +The two blind cripples who had delved for so many years in +Blizzard's cellars were brought up into the light and cared for. +Miss Marion O'Brien went home to England with an unusually large +pot of savings, and married a man who spent these and beat her +until she had thoroughly paid the penalty for all her little +dishonesties and treacheries. It was curious that all the little +people in the plot received tangible punishments, while the big +people seemed to go scot-free. Blizzard, for instance.</p> +<p>No sooner recovered from the operation on the back of his head +than the creature was up and doing. In straightening out his life +and affairs he displayed the energy of a steam-boiler under high +pressure and a colossal cheerfulness.</p> +<p>His first act was to marry Rose; his second to let it be known +throughout the East Side that he was no longer marching in the +forefront of crime. This ultimatum started a procession of +wrongdoers to Marrow Lane. They came singly, in threes and fours, +humble and afraid; men of substance, gun-men, the athletic, the +diseased, fat crooks, thin crooks, saloon-keepers and policemen, +Italians and Slavs, short noses and long (many--many of them), two +clergymen, two bankers, sharp-eyed children, married women who were +childless, unmarried women who weren't--and all these came +trembling and with but the one thought: "Is he going to tell what +he knows about us?"</p> +<p>He was not. Some he bullied a little, for habit is strong; some +he treated with laughter and irony, some with wit, and some with +kindness and deep understanding. He might have been an able +shepherd going to work on a hopelessly numerous black and +ramshackle flock of sheep. He couldn't expect to make model +citizens out of all his old heelers; he couldn't expect to turn +more than fifty per cent of his two clergymen into the paths of +righteousness. But with the young criminals he took much pains, +giving money where it would do good, and advice whether it would do +good or not. Among the first to come to him was Kid Shannon.</p> +<p>"Now look a-here," said the Kid, "I bin good and bad by turns +till I don't know which side is top side. But this minute I'm +good--d'you get me? If you want to jail me you kin do it, nobody +easier; but don't do it! You was always a bigger man than me, and +when you led I followed--for a real man had rather follow a strong +bad man than a good slob any day. You out of the lead, I got +nothing to follow but me own wishes, and they're all to the good +these days."</p> +<p>"A woman?" said Blizzard sternly.</p> +<p>"She ain't a woman yet," said the Kid, "and she ain't a +kid--she's about half-past girl o'clock, and she thinks there's no +better man in the United States than always truly yours, Kid +Shannon. I got a good saloon business, and nothing crooked on hand +but what's past and done with, and I looks to you to give a fellow +a chance. Do I get it? Jail ain't goin' to help me, and it would +break her. Look here, sport: I <i>want</i> to be good."</p> +<p>"Kid," said Blizzard, "no man that <i>wants</i> to be good need +be afraid of me. You'd have been a good boy always--if it hadn't +been for me. <i>I</i> know that as well as you. I've got the past +all written down in my head. I can't rub it out. But any man that's +got the nerve can put new writing across and across the old, until +the old can't be read, or if it could would read like a joke. You +can tell whomsoever it concerns to do well and fear nothing. At +first I thought to tell Lichtenstein every first and last thing +that I knew about this city, and he tried to make me tell. We had a +meeting, Old Abe and I did. I was always afraid of the little Jew, +Kid. Well, face to face, I wasn't. He talked, and I talked. And I +was the stronger. He lets me go scot-free, and I don't tell +anything. If others get you for what you've done, it can't be +helped. But none of you'll be got through me. The past is buried; +but if in the future any of you fellows start anything, and I hear +of it--look out"</p> +<p>Kid Shannon wriggled uncomfortably. "Say," he said, "what +changed you?"</p> +<p>"I'm not changed," said Blizzard; "according to Dr. Ferris I'm +just acting natural. I was a good boy. I had a fracture of the +skull. The bone pressed on my gray matter and made me a bad man. +I'll tell you a funny thing: <i>I can't beat the box any more!</i> +I had a go at it the other day, the missus all ready to work the +pedals, and Lord help me there was no more music in my head or my +fingers than there is in the liver of a frog. It was the same when +I was a two-legged little kid--no music."</p> +<p>"Are you going to close the old diggings?"</p> +<p>Blizzard shook his head. "Yes and no. I'm going to pull down the +old rookery; and I'm going to put up in its place a model +factory."</p> +<p>"Hats?"</p> +<p>"Hats and maybe other things. I'm going to show New York how to +run a sweatshop--you wait and see--the most wages and the least +sweat--and the girls happier and safer than in their own homes. The +missus and I were planning to bolt to a new place and begin life +all over. That was foolish. I'd always feel like a coward. Don't +forget that old friends meditating new crimes will be welcome at +the office--advice always given away, money sometimes and sometimes +help. Pass the word around--and when you and Miss Half-past Girl +send out your cards don't forget me and Mrs. Blizzard in Marrow +Lane."</p> +<p>He leaned forward, his eyes very bright and mischievous.</p> +<p>"Kid," he said, "artistically and dramatically, it's a +pity."</p> +<p>"What's a pity?"</p> +<p>"That we didn't loot Maiden Lane before we got religion. If +there was any hitch in the plan, I don't know what it was. And, +Lord, I <i>was</i> so set on the whole thing--not because I wanted +the loot, but to see if it could be done. Some of you always said +it couldn't--said there was a joker in the pack. Well, we'll never +know now. And here's Mrs. O'Farrall come to pass the time of +day--Good-by, Kid, so-long, pass the word around. Good luck--love +and best wishes to Half-past! Mrs. O'Farrall, your kitchen extends +under the sidewalk; the more negotiable of your delicatessen are +cooked on city property."</p> +<p>"And 'twill be me ruin to have it found out. What I came +for--"</p> +<p>"Was to find out what I'm going to do about it. Well, the law +that you're breaking isn't hurting the city a bit, Mrs. +O'Farrall--I wish I could say the same for your biscuits. If you're +reported, come to me and I'll see you through. How's Morgan the +day?"</p> +<p>"The same as to-morrow, thank ye kindly--dhrunk and +philanderin'."</p> +<p>"I'll send him a pledge to sign with my compliments, Mrs. +O'Farrall, and a good job at the same time."</p> +<p>"He'll never sign the pledge."</p> +<p>"Not if I ask him to, Mrs. O'Farrall, ask him on bended +knee?"</p> +<p>Mrs. O'Farrall looked frightened, apoplectic, and confused. +Blizzard lifted his heavy eyebrows, then a smile began to brighten +his face.</p> +<p>"Mrs. O'Farrall," said he, "blessings on your old red face! For +just this minute for the first time since I lost them, the fact +that I have no knees to bend escaped me. Your religion teaches you +that the Lord is good to the repentant sinner. Madam, he is!" And +then he began to call in a loud voice:</p> +<p>"Rose--Rose, run down a minute. I clean forgot that I hadn't any +legs."</p> +<p>She came, fresh, young, and lovely. What if she had played the +traitor--thrown her cap over the wind-mills? These things are not +serious matters to her sex--when the men they love are kind. And +then Lichtenstein had forgiven her, and pretended to box her +ears--and then she had had enough tragedy and jealousy crowded into +a few months to atone for greater crimes and lapses than hers.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="XLIX"></a>XLIX</h2> +<br> +<p>"I understand," said Blizzard sternly, "that when you learned I +was your father, you refused to proceed further against me."</p> +<p>"Yes, sir," said Bubbles.</p> +<p>"You did wrong! Always do your duty. It was your duty to send me +to the chair, if you could. A fine father I'd been to you--and to +Harry--and a good honest man I was to your mother! My boy, I'm face +to face with the penalty that I have to pay--you. I know all about +you, Bubbles, from Lichtenstein, from Dr. Ferris, from Wilmot Allen +and--and others. And you're a good boy. I drove your mother crazy, +I let you drift into the streets--to sink, I thought, and perish; +but you're a good boy. I gave you no education, but you have picked +up reading and writing and God knows what else. Once I was going to +wring your neck. I didn't. That's the only favor you ever had at my +hands. You'll grow up to be a good man--a fine, clever, +understanding man. And it won't be because of me, it will be in +spite of me. This is the hardest thing I have to face. You've come +now to pay a duty call. Well, my boy, I'm obliged. But I wish to +Heaven I had some hold on your affection, some way of getting a +hold. Bubbles, what can I do to make you like me?"</p> +<p>Bubbles wriggled with awful discomfort, but said nothing.</p> +<p>"Is it because of your mother that you can't ever like me?"</p> +<p>Bubbles drew a long breath as if for a deep dive. His voice +shook. "She lives in a bug-house," he said; "you drove her into it. +Dr. Ferris says you were crazy yourself and nothing you ever done +ought to be held against you. He says, and Miss Barbara, she says, +that I ought to try to like you and feel kind to you. And--and I +thought it was my duty to come and tell you that I just can't."</p> +<p>He was only a little boy, and the delivery of these plain truths +to a man he had always held in deadly dread unmanned him. He gave +one short, wailing, whimpering sob, and then bit his lips until he +had himself in a sort of control.</p> +<p>"That's all right, Bubbles," said the legless man after a pause. +"It hits hard, but it's all right. And whether you said it or not, +it was coming to me, and I knew it. Do you mind if I send you books +and things now and then? There was a book I had when I was a boy. +I'd like you to have it. Don't know what reminds me of it--unless +it's you. It's the story of a Frenchman, Bayard--they called him +the chevalier <i>sans peur et sans reproche</i>. That's French. The +book tells what it means. You better go now. I'm talking against +time. I haven't got the same control of my nerves I used to have. +I'm all broken up, my boy. But you're dead right--dead right. I say +so, and I think so. You're to go to boarding-school. That's good. +They won't teach <i>you</i> any evil."</p> +<p>He did not offer his hand, and the boy was glad.</p> +<p>"Well, good-by," he said uneasily, reached the door, turned, and +came back a little way. "Wish you good luck," he said.</p> +<p>Blizzard lowered his formidable head almost reverently. "Thank +you," he said.</p> +<p>Poor Bubbles, he began to whistle before he was out of the +building; it wasn't from heartlessness, it was from pure discomfort +and remorse. Anyway, his father heard the shrill piping--and he sat +and looked straight ahead of him, and his face was as that of Satan +fallen--fallen, and hell fires licked into the marrow of his +bones.</p> +<p>So Rose found him, and flung herself upon his breast with a cry +of yearning, and his heavy sorrowed head nestled closer and closer +to hers, and he burst suddenly into a great storm of weeping.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="L"></a>L</h2> +<br> +<p>But the legless man was not one who easily or often gave way to +grief. He retained all of that will-power which had made him so +potent for evil, and he used it now to force cheerfulness out of +discouragement and sorrow. Just what he proposed to do with his +life is difficult to expose, for his plans kept changing, as almost +all plans do, in the working out.</p> +<p>His remodelled factory will serve for an example. It began as a +place in which the East Side maiden could earn enough money to keep +body and soul together without scotching either. Still keeping to +this idea, Blizzard kept brightening conditions, and letting in +light--figuratively and actually. And he proved that short hours, +high pay, and worth-while profits may be made to keep company. It +all depends on how much willingness and efficiency are crowded into +the short hours. Employment in Blizzard's factory became a +distinction, like membership in an exclusive club, and carried with +it so many privileges of comfort and self-respect that the +employees couldn't very well help being efficient.</p> +<p>Blizzard's office, where he held the threads of many +enterprises, became a sort of clearing-house for East Side +troubles. He kept free certain hours during which, sitting for all +the world like a judge, he listened to private affairs, and +sympathizing, scolding, wheedling, and even bullying, he gave +advice, gave money, found work, brought about reconciliations, and +turned hundreds of erring feet into the straight and narrow path. +He preached, and very eloquently, the gospel of common-sense. For +every crisis in people's lives, he seemed to remember a parallel. +And his knowledge, especially of criminalities and the workings of +crooked minds, seemed very marvellous to those who sought him out. +And he was an easy man to speak truth to, for there were very few +wicked things that he had not done himself. It is easier to confess +theft to a thief than to a man of virtue, and the resulting advice +may very well be just the same.</p> +<p>His energy and activity were endless. "It's just as hard work," +he told Rose, "to do good in the world as to do evil. I haven't +changed my methods, only my conditions and ideals. You've got to +get the confidence of the people you're working for, and to get +that you've got to know more about them than they know about +themselves. To know that a man has murdered, gives you power over +that man; to know that another man has done something fine and +manly, gives you a hold on that man. Real men are ashamed of having +two things found out about them--their secret bad actions, and +their secret good actions. Men who do good for the sake of +notoriety aren't real men."</p> +<p>"I know who's a real man," said Rose.</p> +<p>He regarded her with much tenderness and amusement. "Rose," he +said, "there's one thing I'm keen to know."</p> +<p>"What?"</p> +<p>"Will you give an honest answer?"</p> +<p>She nodded.</p> +<p>"Well then, do you like me as much as you did when I used to +maltreat you and bully you and threaten you? Or do you like me +more, or do you like me less?"</p> +<p>"It's just the same," she said, "only that then I was unhappy +all the time, and now all the time I'm happy."</p> +<p>"Were you unhappy because I wasn't kind?"</p> +<p>She laughed that idea to scorn. "I was unhappy because you liked +somebody else more than me."</p> +<p>The amusement went out of Blizzard's face; the tenderness +remained. There was one thing that he was determined to do with his +life, and that was to make Rose a good husband. And he was very +fond of her, and she could make him laugh, but it wasn't going to +be very easy, as long as the image of another girl persisted in +haunting him.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="LI"></a>LI</h2> +<br> +<p>When Wilmot Allen left Blizzard's house, he went direct to a +barber-shop, where he remained for three hundred years. During this +period, he lost his beard and thereby regained his self-respect. It +took him a hundred years to reach the Grand Central, and a thousand +more to get from there to Clovelly.</p> +<p>"I got your telegram," said Barbara.</p> +<p>"When?" he asked anxiously.</p> +<p>She broke into a sudden smile. "Oh," she said, "about fourteen +hundred years ago."</p> +<p>"Barbara," he said, "that's a miracle! If you'd said thirteen +hundred or fifteen hundred it would have been guessing, but +fourteen hundred is the exact time that has passed since I +telegraphed."</p> +<p>"Have you had breakfast?"</p> +<p>"No," he said, "I didn't have time."</p> +<p>They strolled through the familiar house, talking nonsense. They +were almost too glad to see each other, for there was now no longer +any question of Barbara making up her mind. It had been made up for +her, and Wilmot knew this somehow without being told. But when had +the definite change come?--that change which made her caring for +Wilmot different from all her other carings? She could not say.</p> +<p>He had dreaded telling her about Harry West's death. And when he +had done so he watched her grave face with appealing eyes. +Presently she smiled a little.</p> +<p>"I'm <i>not</i> heartless," she said, "but I'm going to keep on +forgetting all the times when there was anybody but you. I expect +most girls do a lot of shilly-shallying before they are sure of +themselves."</p> +<p>"And you are really sure of yourself?"</p> +<p>"Yes, Wilmot, if I'm sure of you."</p> +<p>"The first thing," he said, "is to look into these mining +properties we've fallen heir to. West wasn't the kind of man to be +easily fooled; at the same time I myself have learned something +about mines."</p> +<p>"For instance?" Her face was very mischievous.</p> +<p>"Well," he said, "for instance, I have learned that there are +mines <i>and</i> mines. And you know, Barbs dear, I'm not eligible +yet. I owe money, I haven't made good at anything, and I've got +to--first of all. Haven't I?"</p> +<p>"Are you going to sit right there and tell me that we're not to +be married until you've paid your debts and made a fortune? Where +do I come in? What life have I to lead except yours? If you are in +debt, so am I. If you've got to dig holes in the ground, so have I. +Whatever has got to be done, we've got to do it together. So much +is clear. Of course it would be <i>easier</i> for you!"</p> +<p>A little later he asked her what she was going to do with her +head of Blizzard.</p> +<p>"Nothing," she said. "If it is good enough, it will survive +these troubled times. If it isn't, somebody will break it up."</p> +<p>"Are you through with art?"</p> +<p>"What have I to do with art?" she said. "I'm in love. I used to +think that women ought to have professions and all. But there's +only one thing that a woman can do supremely well--and that's to +make a home for a man. That will take all that she has in her of +art and heart and ambition and delicacy. Of course if a girl is +denied the opportunity of making a home, she can paint and sculp +and thump the piano and get her name in the papers. What I want to +know is--when do <i>we</i> start West?"</p> +<p>"You've offered to take me just as I am, with all my +encumbrances, and to help me fight things through to a good finish. +And I think that is pure folly on your part. But there's going to +be no more folly on mine. I'm going to be a fool. Barbs--come +here!"</p> +<p>He held out his arms, and she threw herself into them.</p> +<p>"Is to-morrow too soon, Barbs?"</p> +<p>"We could hardly arrange things sooner, but to my mind to-morrow +is not nearly soon enough."</p> +<p>"What will your father say?"</p> +<p>"Why, if he's the father I think he is he'll bless us and wish +us good luck. There'll be an awful lot to do. Hadn't we better jump +into a car, run over to Greenwich, and get married? That will be +just so much off our minds."</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="LII"></a>LII</h2> +<br> +<p>The young Allens began their new life by plunging themselves +still deeper in debt. Their honeymoon was very short. They spent it +on Long Island Sound in a yacht which Wilmot borrowed over the +telephone, just before they left Clovelly to be married. On the +sixth day they went West. In Salt Lake City they foregathered with +a mining engineer to whom Wilmot had secured letters. This one fell +in love with Barbara, closed his office and went with them into the +hills for ten days. They came out of the hills with brown faces and +sparkling eyes. The engineer opened his office and dictated his +report of their mines to his stenographer. During this work of +enthusiasm he occasionally sighed, and the stenographer knit her +brows.</p> +<p>"Now then," said the engineer to Wilmot and Barbara, "if my name +is any good in New York, you can raise all the money you need on +that document. If you can't, telegraph, and I can raise it +here."</p> +<p>"But," said Barbara, growing very practical, "if the money can +be raised here, why blow in two car-fares <i>and</i> a drawing-room +from here to New York and back?"</p> +<p>"Why," the engineer stammered a little, "I thought you'd have +lots and lots of friends that you'd want to let in on the ground +floor. But if you haven't, and if my money is as good as +another's--you see, it's a grand property--I'm not above longing +for an interest in it myself."</p> +<p>"I can't deny," said Wilmot, who had been worrying himself +dreadfully about finding the means, "that this looks like easy +money to me."</p> +<p>The engineer made generous terms across the dinner-table, and +the young Allens borrowed his money from him.</p> +<br> +<a name="page340-341.jpg"></a> +<p class="ctr"><img src="images/page340-341.jpg" width="100%" alt= +""><br> +<b>The engineer made generous terms across the +dinner-table.</b></p> +<br> +<p>"I suppose," said the engineer hopefully, "that you'll run out +from time to time to see how things are getting on?"</p> +<p>"Run out?" exclaimed Barbara; "we are going to live with the +proposition until it goes through or under. Aren't we, Wilmot?"</p> +<p>"I hoped you'd feel that way about it, Barbs."</p> +<p>"You <i>knew</i> I would."</p> +<p>At first they lived in a tent, and then in a series of large +wooden boxes that they called first "The House" and then "Home." +Machinery began to come into the camp in the wake of long strings +of mules walking two and two. Upon the report of their special +consulting engineer the nearest transcontinental railroad began to +lay metals across the desert, to the mines. One day came strangers +with picks and shovels, and the next day came more. And these began +to scratch among the sage-brush and to explode sticks of dynamite +against the faces of hills. Claims were staked; shanties built; a +hotel with saloon attached, all of shining tin and tar paper, arose +in the night. The first thing Barbara knew Wilmot began to talk of +a stretch of sage-brush as Main Street. And the same day she heard +a man with red beard speak of the little town as "Allen."</p> +<p>One night a man was shot dead among the sage-bushes of Main +Street. Six hours later Wilmot came in on a horse covered with +lather. There was a stern, but not unhappy, look in his eyes.</p> +<p>"Well?" she asked.</p> +<p>"He showed fight," said Wilmot; "and we had to pot him."</p> +<p>"Did you--"</p> +<p>"Would you care? We shook hands on keeping all details secret. I +think the town of Allen will be run orderly in the future. And by +the way, have I such a thing as a clean shirt?"</p> +<p>"You will have," said Barbara, "when the things dry."</p> +<p>"Barbara!"</p> +<p>"Yes, it had to come to it. There are only two women in town, +and the other isn't fit to wash your shirts, dear."</p> +<p>"Let me see your hands."</p> +<p>He examined them critically, then kissed them uncritically.</p> +<p>"They don't look like a washer-woman's hands yet," he said.</p> +<p>"No," she said, "not yet. But please say they look less and less +like a sculptor's."</p> +<br> +<a name="page342.jpg"></a> +<p class="ctr"><img src="images/page342.jpg" width="50%" alt= +""><br> +<b>"You will," said Barbara, "when the things dry".</b></p> +<br> +<p>"Barbara," he said, "they look more and more like a dear's. But +tell me, aren't you getting bored with it--missing New York things +and all and all?"</p> +<p>"No," she said stoutly, "I'm not. I'm useful here in some ways. +And I was about as useful there as--as all the other people. I'm +not even worried about the mines."</p> +<p>"Neither am I. But development's a great deal slower than I +thought. We've still plenty of money. And the moment we begin to +ship ore, we'll have plenty of credit which is just as useful. No! +I'm not worried. We're going to be rich, and we're going to live in +a palace."</p> +<p>"And then what?"</p> +<p>"That <i>is</i> worrying me. What do people do when the +striving's over, and the sixteen hours a day hard work? What +<i>do</i> they do? Oh, Barbs, we know lots of such people, and we +must find out exactly what they do, and--do something else. Living +as we are living has its drawbacks; but it's not a place to hurry +over."</p> +<p>"It's a good way to live," said Barbara. "If you've got sense +enough to know that it's good while it's going on. People who speak +of the good old days, or who are always looking forward to better +days, are usually unhappy. All the time I've been washing your +clothes and mine this morning I kept saying, 'Now this is really +<i>good</i>--this is really worth while,' and once when I got the +better of an ink-spot, my heart began to beat as if I'd just +finished some immortal work."</p> +<p>They were much amused with Bubbles, who came out to them for the +Christmas vacation. The short fall term had already stamped him +with the better ear-marks of the great New England +boarding-schools. He was quite a superior person, rather prone to +quotes just as if they had been facts out of the gospel, the +sayings of Mr. This and Mr. That. And he used superior words, and +spoke of various Kings of England as if he had <i>always</i> known +that such persons existed. He had in addition a smattering of +Latin, his pride in which he strove in vain to conceal. And most of +all he considered the school-boy captain of the foot-ball team a +creature, on the whole, wiser and more knowing even than Abe +Lichtenstein.</p> +<p>But by the time he had been a week in camp he was himself again. +And by the time he returned to school he had forgotten the ablative +singular of Rosa.</p> +<p>They thought best to tell him that he would have plenty of money +some day. In view of this would he persist in being a secret +service agent? He thought so. He wasn't sure. The service needed +money often and always service. Had he seen his father? Yes, and he +told them about the interview.</p> +<p>"And," said Bubbles, "he sent me a box Thanks-giving, There was +a cold turkey and caramels and guava jelly and ginger-snaps, and +walnut meats and seedless raisins, and, and as Mr. Tompkins says, +it doesn't do to be <i>too</i> hard on a man."</p> +<br> +<a name="page344-345.jpg"></a> +<p class="ctr"><img src="images/page344-345.jpg" width="95%" alt= +""><br> +<b>They were much amused with Bubbles, who came out to them for +Christmas vacation.</b></p> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="LIII"></a>LIII</h2> +<br> +<p>Spring came. Their mine made its first shipments of ore and was +no longer a paper success. The balance-sheet for the first month +after shipments had begun made Wilmot whistle. He couldn't believe +the figures, and worked till late into the night, trying to find +some dreadful error. Finding none, finding that with the help of +others he had really made good at last, the rough life began to +lose its savor. If he still owed money it could be but for a short +time. He was free as air--free to do what he pleased--almost to +spend what he pleased.</p> +<p>"Barbs," he said, the next morning, "the mine's no good; we've +got to tackle something else."</p> +<p>"What do you mean, no good? Why, you said--"</p> +<p>"I know what I said. The mine is a success. Aside from what your +father has, you're a rich woman. And I'm a rich man. And that's the +difficulty. There's no use working our hearts out over a thing +that's a definite success--is there? No fun in it. We've got to +look round for something else. Now we are always going to have +money--that's certain. What are we going to do with it? Think of +something hard--something worth while."</p> +<p>"Oh," she said, "I can't--can you?"</p> +<p>"No," he said almost angrily, "I can't. And that's the rotten +side of money. That's the stumbling-block for everybody who +succeeds in collecting a lot of it. The distribution is infinitely +harder than the collecting. I think we'd better pull up stakes, go +back to New York, and think hard."</p> +<p>"Yes. Let's."</p> +<p>"I'd like to have a talk with Blizzard."</p> +<p>Barbara's eyebrows went high with surprise.</p> +<p>"Why not? Your father writes that the man is doing more good +right in New York City where it's most needed than any six +philanthropists the place ever owned. Maybe he's got something +really big in view, and maybe he'll let us in on the ground +floor."</p> +<p>"Well," said Barbara, "considering everything, I shouldn't care +to have much to do with him."</p> +<p>Wilmot put back his head and laughed aloud. "That," said he, "is +precisely the sort of advice that I used to give you."</p> +<p>Barbara blushed. "I'd like to forget that such a man ever came +into my life in any way."</p> +<p>"You can't forget it, dear. You asked him in. You <i>would</i> +do it. And now you can never forget. And that's one of the +penalties you have to pay for going against the people who love you +most."</p> +<p>"Well," said she, "I'm willing to keep on paying--if the right +people will keep on loving. Anyway, philanthropy--good works--are +none of my business. My business, sir, is to make you a home. And +with the exception of one person that I know about positively, the +rest of the world can go hang."</p> +<br> +<a name="page346.jpg"></a> +<p class="ctr"><img src="images/page346.jpg" width="38%" alt= +""><br> +<b>"And when you think," said she, "that some women spend the best +years of their lives making <i>statues</i>!".</b></p> +<br> +<p>"That statement," said Wilmot, "sounds very pagan and profane to +me and also very, very beautiful. But, who, may I ask, is this +<i>other</i> person?" His brows gathered a little jealously.</p> +<p>"This other person," said Barbara quietly, "is at the present +moment a total stranger to us,"</p> +<p>Then she leaned forward until her head was on his breast. And +she gave a little sigh which was fifty per cent comfort, and fifty +per cent courage. She could hear his heart beating like a +trip-hammer. Had he burst into immortal eloquence, his words would +have been of less consequence in her ear.</p> +<p>"And when you think," said she, "that some women spend the best +years of their lives making <i>statues</i>!"</p> +<br> +<br> +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12557 ***</div> +</body> +</html> |