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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/14079-0.txt b/14079-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d719549 --- /dev/null +++ b/14079-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,6063 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 14079 *** + +Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this + file which includes the original illustrations. + See 14079-h.htm or 14079-h.zip: + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/4/0/7/14079/14079-h/14079-h.htm) + or + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/4/0/7/14079/14079-h.zip) + + Images of the original pages are available through Kentuckiana + Digital Library. See http://kdl.kyvl.org + + + + + +SANDY + +by + +ALICE HEGAN RICE + +Author of _Mrs. Wiggs of the Cabbage Patch_ + +New York, The Century Co. + +1905 + + + + + + + +[Illustration: "Looking up, he saw a slender little girl in a long +tan coat and a whit tam-o'-shanter"] + + + +TO MY AUNT + +MISS MARY A. HEGAN +WHO USED TO TELL ME BETTER STORIES +THAN I SHALL EVER WRITE + + + + +CONTENTS + + CHAPTER + + I THE STOWAWAY + II ON SHIPBOARD + III THE CURSE OF WEALTH + IV SIDE-TRACKED + V SANDY RETIRES FROM BUSINESS + VI HOLLIS FARM + VII CONVALESCENCE + VIII AUNT MELVY AS A SOOTHSAYER + IX TRANSITION + X WATERLOO + XI "THE LIGHT THAT LIES" + XII ANTICIPATION + XIII THE COUNTY FAIR + XIV A COUNCIL OF WAR + XV HELL AND HEAVEN + XVI THE NELSON HOME + XVII UNDER THE WILLOWS + XVIII THE VICTIM + XIX THE TRIALS OF AN ASSISTANT POSTMASTER + XX THE IRONY OF CHANCE + XXI IN THE DARK + XXII AT WILLOWVALE + XXIII "THE SHADOW ON THE HEART" + XXIV THE PRIMROSE WAY + + + + +LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS + + +"Looking up, he saw a slender little girl in a long tan coat and a +white tam-o-shanter" Frontispiece + +"He sent up yell after yell of victory for the land of his adoption" + +"He smiled away his debt of gratitude" + +"Then he forgot all about the steps and counting time" + +"Burning deeds of prowess rioted in his brain" + +"Sandy saw her waver" + +"'It's been love, Sandy, ... ever since the first'" + + + + +CHAPTER I + +THE STOWAWAY + + +An English mist was rolling lazily inland from the sea. It half +enveloped the two great ocean liners that lay tugging at their +moorings in the bay, and settled over the wharf with a grim +determination to check, as far as possible, the traffic of the +morning. + +But the activity of the wharf, while impeded, was in no wise stopped. +The bustle, rattle, and shouting were, in fact, augmented by the +temporary interference. Everybody seemed in a hurry, and everybody +seemed out of temper, save a boy who lay at full length on the quay +and earnestly studied a weather-vane that was lazily trying to make +up its mind which way to point. + +He was ragged and brawny and picturesque. His hands, bronzed by the +tan of sixteen summers, were clasped under his head, and his legs were +crossed, one soleless shoe on high vaunting its nakedness in the face +of an indifferent world. A sailor's blouse, two sizes too large, was +held together at the neck by a bit of red cambric, and his trousers +were anchored to their mooring by a heavy piece of yellow twine. The +indolence of his position, however, was not indicative of the state of +his mind; for under his weather-beaten old cap, perched sidewise on a +tousled head, was a commotion of dreams and schemes, ambitions and +plans, whose activities would have put to shame the busiest wharf in +the world. + +"It's your show, Sandy Kilday!" he said, half aloud, with a bit of a +brogue that flavored his speech as the salt flavors the sea air. "You +don't want to be a bloomin' old weather-vane, a-changin' your mind +every time the wind blows. Is it go, or stay?" + +The answer, instead of coming, got sidetracked by the train of thought +that descended upon him when he was actually face to face with his +decision. All sorts of memories came rushing pell-mell through his +brain. The cold and hungry ones were the most insistent, but he +brushed them aside. + +The one he clung to longest was the earliest and most shadowy of the +lot. It was of a little white house on an Irish heath, and inside was +the biggest fireplace in the world, where crimson flames went roaring +up the big, dark chimney, and where witches and fairies held high +carnival. There was a big chair on each side the hearth, and between +them a tiny red rocker with flowers painted on the arms of it. That +was the clearest of all. There were persons in the large chairs, one a +silent Scotchman who, instinct told him, must have been his father, +and the other--oh, tricky memory that faltered when he wanted it to be +so clear!--was the maddest, merriest little mother that ever came +back to haunt a lad. By holding tight to the memory he could see that +her eyes were blue like his own, but her hair was black. He could hear +the ring of her laugh as she told him Irish stories, and the soft +drone of her voice as she sang him old Irish songs. It was she who +told him about the fairies and witches that lived up behind the +peat-flames. He remembered holding her hand and putting his cheek +against it when the goblins came too near. Then the picture would go +out, like a picture in a magic-lantern show, and sometimes Sandy could +make it come back, and sometimes he could not. + +After that came a succession of memories, but none of them held the +silent father and the merry mother and the little white house on the +heath. They were of new faces and new places, of temporary homes with +relatives in Ireland and Scotland, of various schools and unceasing +work. Then came the day, two years ago, when, goaded by some +injustice, real or imagined, he had run away to England and struck out +alone and empty-handed to care for himself. It had been a rough +experience, and there were days that he was glad to forget; but +through it all the taste of freedom had been sweet in his mouth. + +For three weeks he had been hanging about the docks, picking up jobs +here and there, accommodating any one who wanted to be accommodated, +making many friends and little money. He had had no thought of +embarking until the big English liner _Great Britain_ arrived in port +after breaking all records on her homeward passage. She was to start +on her second trip to-day, and an hour later her rival, the steamship +_America_, was to take her departure. The relative merits of the two +vessels had been the talk of the wharf for days. + +Sandy had made it a rule in life to be on hand when anything was +happening. He had viewed cricket-matches from tree-tops, had answered +the call of fire at midnight, and tramped ten miles to see the finish +of a great regatta. But something was about to take place which seemed +entirely beyond his attainment. Two hours passed before he solved the +problem. + +"Takin' the rest-cure, kid?" asked a passing sailor as he shied a +stick at Sandy's shins. + +Sandy stretched himself and smiled up at the sailor. It was a smile +that waited for an answer and usually got it--a smile so brimming over +with good-fellowship and confidence that it made a lover of a friend +and a friend of an enemy. + +"It's a trip that I'm thinkin' of takin'," he cried blithely as he +jumped to his feet. "Here's the shillin' I owe you, partner, and may +the best luck ye've had be the worst luck that's comin'." + +He tossed a coin to the sailor, and thrusting his hands in his +pockets, executed a brief but brilliant _pas seul_, and then went +whistling away down the wharf. He swung along right cheerily, his rags +fluttering, his chin in the air, for the wind had settled in one +direction, and the weather-vane and Sandy had both made up their +minds. + +The sailor looked after him fondly. "He's a bloomin' good little +chap," he said to a man near by. "Carries a civil tongue in his head +for everybody." + +The man grunted. "He's too off and on," he said. "He'll never come to +naught." + +Two days later, the _America_, cutting her way across the Atlantic, +carried one more passenger than she registered. In the big life-boat +swung above the hurricane-deck lay Sandy Kilday, snugly concealed by +the heavy canvas covering. + +He had managed to come aboard under cover of the friendly fog, and had +boldly appropriated a life-boat and was doing light housekeeping. The +apartment, to be sure, was rather small and dark, for the only light +came through a tiny aperture where the canvas was tucked back. At this +end Sandy attended to his domestic duties. + +Here were stored the fresh water and hardtack which the law requires +every life-boat to carry in case of an emergency. Added to these was +Sandy's private larder, consisting of several loaves of bread, a bag +of apples, and some canned meat. The other end of the boat was +utilized as a bedroom, a couple of life-preservers serving as the bed, +and his own bundle of personal belongings doing duty as a pillow. + +There were some drawbacks, naturally, especially to an energetic, +restless youngster who had never been in one place so long before in +his life. It was exceedingly inconvenient to have to lie down or +crawl; but Sandy had been used to inconveniences all his life, and +this was simply a difference in kind, not in degree. Besides, he could +steal out at night and, by being very careful and still, manage to +avoid the night watch. + +The first night out a man and a girl had come up from the cabin deck +and sat directly under his hiding-place. At first he was too much +afraid of discovery to listen to what they were saying, but later his +interest outweighed his fear. For they were evidently lovers, and +Sandy was at that inflammable age when to hear mention of love is +dangerous and to see a manifestation of it absolute contagion. When +the great question came, his heart waited for the answer. Perhaps it +was the added weight of his unspoken influence that turned the scale. +She said yes. During the silence that followed, Sandy, unable to +restrain his joy, threw his arms about a life-preserver and embraced +it fervently. + +When they were gone he crawled out to stretch his weary body. On the +deck he found a book which they had left; it was a green book, and on +the cover was a golden castle on a golden hill. All the rest of his +life he loved a green book best, for it was through this one that he +found his way back again to that enchanted land that lay behind the +peat-flames in the shadowy memory. Early in the morning he read it, +with his head on the box of hardtack and his feet on the water-can. +Twice he reluctantly tore himself from its pages and put it back where +he had found it. No one came to claim it, and it lay there, with the +golden castle shining in the sun. Sandy decided to take one more peep. + +It was all about gallant knights and noble lords, of damsels passing +fair, of tourneys and feasts and battles fierce and long. Story after +story he devoured, until he came to the best one of all. It told of a +beautiful damsel with a mantle richly furred, who was girt with a +cumbrous sword which did her great sorrow; for she might not be +delivered of it save by a knight who was of passing good name both of +his lands and deeds. And after that all the great knights had striven +in vain to draw the sword from its sheath, a poor knight, poorly +arrayed, felt in his heart that he might essay it, but was abashed. At +last, however, when the damsel was departing, he plucked up courage to +ask if he might try; and when she hesitated he said: "Fair damsel, +worthiness and good deeds are not only in arrayment, but manhood and +worship are hid within man's person." Then the poor knight took the +sword by the girdle and sheath and drew it out easily. + +And it was not until then that Sandy knew that he had had no dinner, +and that the sun had climbed over to the other side of the steamer, +and that a continual cheering was coming up from the deck below. +Cautiously he pulled back the canvas flap and emerged like the head of +a turtle from his shell. The bright sunshine dazzled him for a moment, +then he saw a sight that sent the dreams flying. There, just ahead, +was the _Great Britain_ under full way, valiantly striving to hold her +record against the oncoming steamer. + +Sandy sat up and breathlessly watched the champion of the sea, her +smoke-stacks black against the wide stretch of shining waters. The +Union Jack was flying in insolent security from her flagstaff. There +were many figures on deck, and her music was growing louder every +minute. Inch by inch the _America_ gained upon her, until they were +bow and bow. The crowd below grew wilder, cheers went up from both +steamers, the decks were white with the flutter of handkerchiefs. +Suddenly the band below struck up "The Star-Spangled Banner." Sandy +gave one triumphant glance at the Stars and Stripes floating overhead, +and in that moment became naturalized. He leaped to his feet in the +boat, and tearing the blouse from his back, waved the tattered banner +in the face of the vanquished _Great Britain_, as he sent up yell +after yell of victory for the land of his adoption. + +[Illustration: "He sent up yell after yell of victory for the land of +his adoption"] + +Then he was seized by the ankle and jerked roughly down upon the deck. +Over him stood the deck steward. + +"You`re a rum egg for that old boat to hatch out," he said. "I guess +the cap'n will be wantin' to see you." + +Sandy, thus peremptorily summoned from the height of patriotic +frenzy, collapsed in terror. Had the deck steward not been familiar +with stowaways, he doubtless would have been moved by the flood of +eloquent persuasion which Sandy brought to bear. + +As it was, he led him ruthlessly down the narrow steps, past the long +line of curious passengers, then down again to the steerage deck, +where he deposited him on a coil of rope and bade him stay there until +he was sent for. + +Here Sandy sat for the remainder of the afternoon, stared at from +above and below, an object of lively curiosity. He bit his nails until +the blood came, and struggled manfully to keep back the tears. He was +cold, hungry, and disgraced, and his mind was full of sinister +thoughts. Inch by inch he moved closer to the railing. + +Suddenly something fell at his feet. It was an orange. Looking up, he +saw a slender little girl in a long tan coat and a white +tam-o'-shanter leaning over the railing. He only knew that her eyes +were brown and that she was sorry for him, but it changed his world. +He pulled off his cap, and sent her such an ardent smile of gratitude +that she melted from the railing like a snowflake under the kiss of +the sun. + +Sandy ate the orange and took courage. Life had acquired a new +interest. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +ON SHIPBOARD + + +The days that followed were not rose-strewn. Disgrace sat heavily upon +the delinquent, and he did penance by foregoing the joys of society. +Menial labor and the knowledge that he would not be allowed to land, +but would be sent back by the first steamer, were made all the more +unbearable by his first experience with illness. He had accepted his +fate and prepared to die when the ship's surgeon found him. + +The ship's surgeon was cruel enough to laugh, but he persuaded Sandy +to come back to life. He was a small, white, round little man; and +when he came rolling down the deck in his white linen suit, his face +beaming from its white frame of close-cropped hair and beard, he was +not unlike one of his own round white little pills, except that their +sweetness stopped on the outside and his went clear through. + +He discovered Sandy lying on his face in the passageway, his right +hand still dutifully wielding the scrub-brush, but his spirit broken +and his courage low. + +"Hello!" he exclaimed briskly; "what's your name?" + +"Sandy Kilday." + +"Scotch, eh?" + +"Me name is. The rest of me's Irish," groaned Sandy. + +"Well, Sandy, my boy, that's no way to scrub. Come out and get some +air, and then go back and do it right." + +He guided Sandy's dying footsteps to the deck and propped him against +the railing. That was when he laughed. + +"Not much of a sailor, eh?" he quizzed. "You'll be all right soon; we +have been getting the tail-end of a big nor'wester." + +"A happy storm it must have been, sir, to wag its tail so gay," said +Sandy, trying to smile. + +The doctor clapped him on the back. "You're better. Want something to +eat?" + +Sandy declined with violence. He explained his feelings with all the +authority of a first experience, adding in conclusion: "It was Jonah I +used to be after feelin' sorry for; it ain't now. It's the whale." + +The doctor prevailed upon him to drink some hot tea and eat a +sandwich. It was a heroic effort, but Sandy would have done even more +to prolong the friendly conversation. + +"How many more days have we got, sir?" + +"Five; but there's the return trip for you." + +Sandy's face flushed. "If they send me home, I'll be comin' back!" he +cried, clinging to the railing as the ship lurched forward. "I'm goin' +to be an American. I am goin'--" Further declarations as to his +future policy were cut short. + +From that time on the doctor took an interest in him. He even took up +a collection of clothes for him among the officers. His professional +services were no longer necessary, for Sandy enjoyed a speedy recovery +from his maritime troubles. + +"You are luckier than the rest," he said, one day, stopping on his +rounds. "I never had so many steerage patients before." + +The work was so heavy, in fact, that he obtained permission to get a +boy to assist him. The happy duty devolved upon Sandy, who promptly +embraced not only the opportunity, but the doctor and the profession +as well. He entered into his new work with such energy and enthusiasm +that by the end of the week he knew every man below the cabin deck. So +expeditious did he become that he found many idle moments in which to +cultivate acquaintances. + +His chosen companion at these times was a boy in the steerage, +selected not for congeniality, but for his unlimited knowledge of all +things terrestrial, from the easiest way of making a fortune to the +best way of spending it. He was a short, heavy-set fellow of some +eighteen years. His hair grew straight up from an overhanging +forehead, under which two small eyes seemed always to be furtively +watching each other over the bridge of his flat snub nose. His lips +met with difficulty across large, irregular teeth. Such was Ricks +Wilson, the most unprepossessing soul on board the good ship +_America_. + +"You see, it's this way," explained Ricks as the boys sat behind the +smokestack and Sandy became initiated into the mysteries of a +wonderful game called "craps." "I didn't have no more 'n you've got. I +lived down South, clean off the track of ever'thing. I puts my foot in +my hand and went out and seen the world. I tramps up to New York, +works my way over to England, tramps and peddles, and gits enough +dough to pay my way back. Say, it's bum slow over there. Why, they +ain't even on to street-cars in London! I makes more in a week at home +than I do in a month in England. Say, where you goin' at when we +land?" + +Sandy shook his head ruefully. "I got to go back," he said. + +Ricks glanced around cautiously, then moved closer. + +"You ain't that big a sucker, are you? Any feller that couldn't hop +the twig offen this old boat ain't much, that's all I got to say." + +"Oh, it's not the gettin' away," said Sandy, more certain than ever, +now that he was sure of an ally. + +"Homesick?" asked Ricks, with a sneer. + +Sandy gave a short laugh. "Home? Why, I ain't got any home. I've just +lived around since I was a young one. It's a chance to get on that I'm +after." + +"Well, what in thunder is takin' you back?" + +"I don't know," said Sandy, "'cep'n' it ain't in me to give 'em the +slip now I know 'em. Then there's the doctor--" + +"That old feather-bed? O Lord! He's so good he gives me a pain. Goes +round with his mouth hiked up in a smile, and I bet he's as mean as +the--" + +Before Hicks could finish he found himself inextricably tangled in +Sandy's arms and legs, while that irate youth sat upon him and +pommeled him soundly. + +"So it's the good doctor ye'd be after blasphemin' and abusin' and +makin' game of! By the powers, ye'll take it back! Speak one time +more, and I'll make you swaller the lyin' words, if I have to break +every bone in your skin!" + +There was an ugly look in Ricks's face as he threw the smaller boy +off, but further trouble was prevented by the appearance of the second +mate. + +Sandy hurried away to his duties, but not without an anxious glance at +the upper deck. He had never lost an opportunity, since that first +day, of looking up; but this was the first time that he was glad she +was not there. Only once had he caught sight of a white tam and a tan +coat, and that was when they were being conducted hastily below by a +sympathetic stewardess. + +But Sandy needed no further food for his dreams than he already had. +On sunny afternoons, when he had the time, he would seek a secluded +corner of the deck, and stretching himself on the boards with the +green book in his hand, would float in a sea of sentiment. The fact +that he had decided to study medicine and become a ship's surgeon in +no wise interfered with his fixed purpose of riding forth into the +world on a cream-white charger in search of a damsel in distress. + +So thrilled did he become with the vision that he fell to making +rhymes, and was surprised to find that the same pair of eyes always +rhymed with skies--and they were brown. + +Sometimes, at night, a group would gather on the steerage deck and +sing. A black-haired Italian, with shirt open at the throat, would +strike a pose and fling out a wild serenade; or a fat, placid German +would remove his pipe long enough to troll forth a mighty +drinking-song. Whenever the air was a familiar one, the entire circle +joined in the chorus. At such times Sandy was always on hand, singing +with the loudest and telling his story with the best. + +"Make de jolly little Irish one to sing by hisself!" called a woman +one night from the edge of the crowd. The invitation was taken up and +repeated on every side. Sandy, laughing and protesting, was pushed to +the front. Being thus suddenly forced into prominence, he suffered an +acute attack of stage fright. + +"Chirp up there now and give us a tune!" cried some one behind him. + +"Can't ye remember none?" asked another. + +"Sure," said Sandy, laughing sheepishly; "but they all come wrong end +first." + +Some one had thrust an old guitar in his hands, and he stood +nervously picking at the strings. He might have been standing there +still had not the moon come to his rescue. It climbed slowly out of +the sea and sent a shimmer of silver and gold over the water, across +the deck, and into his eyes. He forgot himself and the crowd. The +stream of mystical romance that flows through the veins of every true +Irishman was never lacking in Sandy. His heart responded to the +beautiful as surely as the echo answers the call. + +He seized the guitar, and picking out the notes with clumsy, faltering +fingers, sang: + + "Ah! The moment was sad when my love and I parted, + Savourneen deelish, signan O!" + +His boyish voice rang out clear and true, softening on the refrain to +an indescribable tenderness that steeped the old song in the very +essence of mystery and love. + + "As I kiss'd off her tears, I was nigh broken-hearted!-- + Savourneen deelish, signan O!" + +He could remember his mother singing him to sleep by it, and the +bright red of her lips as they framed the words: + + "Wan was her cheek which hung on my shoulder; + Chill was her hand, no marble was colder; + I felt that again I should never behold her; + Savourneen deelish, signan O!" + +As the song trembled to a close, a slight burst of applause came from +the cabin deck. Sandy looked up, frowned, and bit his lip. He did not +know why, but he was sorry he had sung. + +The next morning the _America_ sailed into New York harbor, band +playing and flags flying. She was bringing home a record and a +jubilant crew. On the upper decks passengers were making merry over +what is probably the most joyful parting in the world. In the steerage +all was bustle and confusion and anticipation of the disembarking. + +Eagerly, wistfully watching it all, stood Sandy, as alert and +distressed as a young hound restrained from the hunt. It is something +to accept punishment gracefully, but to accept punishment when it can +be avoided is nothing short of heroism. Sandy had to shut his eyes and +grip the railing to keep from planning an escape. Spread before him in +brave array across the water lay the promised land--and, like Moses, +he was not to reach it. + +"That's the greatest city in America," said the ship's surgeon as he +came up to where he was standing. "What do you think of it?" + +"I never seen one stand on end afore!" exclaimed Sandy, amazed. + +"Would you like to go ashore long enough to look about?" asked the +doctor, with a smile running around the fat folds of his cheeks. + +"And would I?" asked Sandy, his eyes flying open. "It's me word of +honor I'd give you that I'd come back." + +"The word of a stowaway, eh?" asked the doctor, still smiling. + +In a moment Sandy's face was crimson. "Whatever I be, sir, I ain't a +liar!" + +The doctor pursed up his lips in comical dismay: "Not so hot, my man; +not so hot! So you still want to be a doctor?" + +Sandy cooled down sufficiently to say that it was the one ambition of +his life. + +"I know the physician in charge of the City Hospital here in New York. +He's a good fellow. He'd put you through--give you work and put you in +the way of going to the Medical School. You'd like that?" + +"But," cried Sandy, bewildered but hopeful, "I have to go back!" + +The doctor shook his head. "No, you don't. I've paid your passage." + +Sandy waited a moment until the full import of the words was taken in, +then he grabbed the stout little doctor and almost lifted him off his +feet. + +"Oh! But ain't you a brick!" he cried fervently, adding earnestly: "It +ain't a present you're makin' me, though! I'll pay it back, so help me +bob!" + +At the pier the crowd of immigrants pushed and crowded impatiently as +they waited for the cabin passengers to go ashore. Among them was +Sandy, bareheaded and in motley garb, laughing and shoving with the +best of them, hanging over the railing, and keeping up a fire of +merriment at the expense of the crowd below. In his hand was a letter +of recommendation to the physician in charge at the City Hospital, and +in his inside pocket a ten-dollar bill was buttoned over a heart that +had not a care in the world. In the great stream of life Sandy was one +of the bubbles that are apt to come to the top. + +"You better come down to Kentucky with me," urged Ricks Wilson, +resuming an old argument. "I'm goin' to peddle my way back home, then +git a payin' job at the racetrack." + +"Wasn't I tellin' ye that it was a doctor I'm goin' to be?" asked +Sandy, impatiently. Already Ricks's friendship was proving irksome. + +On the gang-plank above him the passengers were leaving the ship. +Some delay had arisen, and for a moment the procession halted. +Suddenly Sandy caught his breath. There, just above him, stood "the +damsel passing fair." Instead of the tam-o'-shanter she wore a big +drooping hat of brown, which just matched the curls that were loosely +tied at the back of her neck. + +Sandy stood motionless and humbly adored her. He was a born lover, +lavishing his affection, without discrimination or calculation, upon +whatever touched his heart. It surely was no harm just to stand aside +and look. He liked the way she carried her head; he liked the way her +eyes went up a little at the outer corners, and the round, soft curve +of her chin. She was gazing steadfastly ahead of her down the +gang-plank, and he ventured a step nearer and continued his +observations. As he did so, he made a discovery. The soft white of her +cheek was gradually becoming pinker and pinker; the color which began +under her lace collar stole up and up until it reached her eyes, +which still gazed determinedly before her. + +Sandy admired it as a traveler admires a sunrise, and with as little +idea of having caused it. + +The line of passengers moved slowly forward, and his heart sank. +Suddenly his eyes fell upon the little hand-bag which she carried. On +one end, in small white letters, was: "Ruth Nelson, Kentucky, U.S.A." +He watched her until she was lost to view, then he turned eagerly back +into the crowd. Elbowing his way forward, he seized Ricks by the arm. + +"Hi, there!" he cried; "I've changed me mind. I'm goin' with you to +Kentucky!" + +So this impetuous knight errant enlisted under the will-o'-the-wisp +love, and started joyously forth upon his quest. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +THE CURSE OF WEALTH + + +It is an oft-proved adage that for ten who can stand adversity there +is but one who can stand prosperity. Sandy, alas! was no exception to +any rule which went to prove the frailty of human nature. The sudden +acquisition of ten dollars cast him into a whirlpool of temptation +from which he made little effort to escape. + +"I ain't goin' on to-day," announced Ricks. "I'm goin' to lay in my +goods for peddlin'. I reckon you kin come along of me." + +Sandy accepted a long and strong cigar, tilted his hat, and +unconsciously caught Ricks's slouching gait as they went down the +street. After all, it was rather pleasant to associate with +sophistication. + +"We'll git on the outside of a little dinner," said Ricks; "and I'll +mosey round in the stores awhile, then I'll take you to a show or two. +It's a mighty good thing for you that you got me along." + +Sandy thought so too. He cheerfully stood treat for the rest of the +day, and felt that it was small return for Ricks's condescension. + +"How much you got left?" asked Ricks, that night, as they stopped +under a street light to take stock. + +Sandy held out a couple of dollars and a fifty-cent piece. + +"Enough to put on the eyes of two and a half dead men," he said as he +curiously eyed the strange money. + +"One, two,--two and a half," counted Ricks. + +"Shillings?" asked Sandy, amazed. + +Ricks nodded. + +"And have I blowed all that to-day?" + +"What of it?" asked Ricks. "I seen a bloke onct what lit his cigar +with a bill like the one you had!" + +"But the doctor said it was two pounds," insisted Sandy, +incredulously. He did not realize the expense of a personally +conducted tour of the Bowery. + +"Well, it's went," said Ricks, resignedly. "You can't count on settin' +up biz with what's left." + +Sandy's brows clouded, and he shifted his position restlessly. "Now I +ax yerself, Ricks, what'u'd you do?" he said. + +"Me? I don't give advice to nobody. But effen it was me I'd know +mighty quick what to do." + +"What?" said Sandy, eagerly. + +"Buy a dawg." + +"A dog? I ain't goin' blind." + +"Lor'! but you're a softhorn," said Ricks, contemptuously. "I s'pose +you'd count on leadin' him round by a pink ribbon." + +"Oh, you mean a fighter?" + +"Sure. My last dawg could do ever'thing in sight. She was so game she +went after herself in a lookin'-glass and got kilt. Oh, they's money +in dawgs, and I knows how to make 'em win ever' time." + +Sandy, tired as he was from the day's excitement, insisted upon going +in search of one at once. He already had visions of becoming the proud +owner of a canine champion that would put him immediately into the +position of lighting his cigar with a two-pound note. + +The first three weeks of their experience on the road went far to +realize their expectations. The bulldog, which had been bought in +partnership, proved a conquering hero. Through the long summer days +the boys tramped over the country, peddling their wares, and by night +they conducted sundry unlawful encounters wherever an opponent could +be found. + +Sandy enjoyed the peddling. It was astonishing what friendly +sociability and confidential intimacy were established by the sale of +blue suspenders and pink soap. He left a line of smiling testimonials +in his wake. + +But if the days were proving satisfactory, so much could not be said +of the nights. Even the phenomenal luck that followed his dog failed +to keep up his enthusiasm. + +"You ain't a nachrul sport," complained Ricks. "That's your trouble. +When the last fight was on, you set on the fence and listened at a' +ole idiot scrapin' a fiddle down in the valley." + +Sandy made a feeble defense, but he knew in his soul it was so. + +Affairs reached a climax one night in an old barn on the outskirts of +a town. A fight was about to begin when Sandy discovered Ricks +judiciously administering a sedative to the enemy's dog. + +Then understanding dawned upon him, and his rage was elemental. With a +valor that lacked the better part of discretion, he hurled himself +through the crowd and fell upon Ricks. + +An hour later, bruised, bloody, and vanquished, he stumbled along +through the dreary night. Hot with rage and defeat, utterly ignorant +of his whereabouts, his one friend turned foe, he was indeed in sorry +plight. + +He climbed over the fence and lay face downward in the long, cool +grass, stretching his bruised and aching body along the ground. A +gentle night wind rustled above him, and by and by a star peeped out, +then another and another. Before he knew it, he was listening to the +frogs and katydids, and wondering what they were talking about. He +ceased to think about Ricks and his woes, and gave himself up to the +delicious, drowsy peace that was all about him. For, child of nature +that he was, he had turned to the only mother he knew. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +SIDE-TRACKED + + +The next morning, at the nearest railroad station, an irate cattleman +was trying to hire some one to take charge of a car of live stock +which was on its way to a great exposition in a neighboring city. The +man he had counted on had not appeared, and the train was about due. + +As he was turning away in desperation he felt a tug at his elbow. +Looking around, he saw a queer figure with a countenance that +resembled a first attempt at a charcoal sketch from life: one cheek +was larger than the other, the mouth was sadly out of drawing, the +eyes shone out from among the bruises like the sun from behind the +clouds. But if the features were disfigured, the smile was none the +less courageous. + +Sandy had found a friendly sympathizer at a neighboring farm-house, +had been given a good breakfast, had made his toilet, and was ready +for the next round in the fight of life. + +"I'll be doin' yer job, sir, whatever it is," he said pleasantly. + +The man eyed him with misgiving, but his need was urgent. + +"All you have to do is to stay in the car and look after the cattle. +My man will meet you when you reach the city. Do you think you can do +it?" + +"Just keep company with the cows?" cried Sandy. "Sure and I can!" + +So the bargain was struck, and that night found him in the great city +with a dollar in his pocket and a promise of work in the morning. + +Tired and sore from the experiences of the night before, he sought a +cheap lodging-house near by. A hook-nosed woman, carrying a smoking +lamp, conducted him to a room under the eaves. It was small and +suffocating. He involuntarily lifted his hands and touched the +ceiling. + +"It's like a boilin' potato I feel," he said; "and the pot's so little +and the lid so tight!" + +He went to the window, and taking out the nail that held down the +sash, pushed it up. Below him lay the great, bustling city, cabs and +cars in constant motion, long lines of blazing lights marking the +thoroughfares, the thunder of trains in the big station, and above and +below and through it all a dull monotonous roar, like the faraway +unceasing cry of a hungry beast. + +He sank on his knees by the window, and a restless, nervous look came +into his eyes. + +"It presses in, too," he thought. "It's all crowdin' over me. I'm just +me by myself, all alone." A tear made a white course down his grimy +cheek, then another and another. He brushed them impatiently away with +the cap he still held in his hand. + +Rising abruptly, he turned away from the window, and the hot air of +the room again smote him. The smoking lamp had blackened the chimney, +and as he bent to turn it down, he caught his reflection in a small +mirror over the table. What the bruises and swelling had left undone +the cheap mirror completed. He started back. Was that the boy he knew +as himself? Was that Sandy Kilday who had come to America to seek his +fortune? He stared in a sort of fascinated horror at that other boy in +the mirror. Before he had been afraid to be by himself, now he was +afraid of himself. + +He seized his cap, and blowing out the lamp, plunged down four flights +of steep narrow steps and out into the street. A number of people were +crowding into a street-car marked "Exposition." Sandy, ever a straw in +the current, joined them. Once more down among his fellow-men, he +began to feel more comfortable. He cheerfully paid his entrance fee +with one of the two silver coins in his pocket. + +The first building he entered was the art gallery, and the first +picture that caught his eye held him spellbound. He sat before it all +the evening with fascinated eyes, devouring every detail and oblivious +to the curious interest he was attracting; for the huge canvas +represented the Knights of the Round Table, and he had at last found +friends. + +All the way back he thought about the picture; it was not until he +reached his room that the former loneliness returned. + +But even then it was not for long. A pair of yellow eyes peered around +the window-sill, and a plaintive "meow" begged for admittance. It was +plainly Providence that guided that thin and ill-treated kitten to +Sandy's window. The welcome it received must have completely restored +its shaken faith in human nature. Tired as he was, Sandy went out and +bought some milk. He wanted to establish a firm friendship; for if he +was to stay in this lonely city, he must have something to love, if +only a prodigal kitten of doubtful pedigree. + +During the long, hot days that followed Sandy worked faithfully at the +depot. The regular hours and confinement seemed doubly irksome after +the bohemian life on the road. + +The Exposition was his salvation. No sacrifice seemed too great to +enable him to get beyond that magic gate. For the "Knights of the +Round Table" was but the beginning of miles and miles of wonderful +pictures. He even bought a catalogue, and, prompted by a natural +curiosity for anything that interested him, learned the names of the +artists he liked best, and the bits of biography attached to each. He +would recite these to the yellow kitten when he got back to his little +hot-box of a room. + +One night the art gallery was closed, and he went into another big +building where a crowd of people were seated. At one end of it was a +great pipe-organ, and after a while some one began to play. With his +cap tightly grasped in both hands, he tiptoed down the center aisle +and stood breathlessly drinking in the wonderful tones that seemed to +be coming from his own heart. + +"Get out of the way, boy," said an usher. "You are blocking the +aisle." + +A queer-appearing lady who looked like a man touched his elbow. + +"Here's a seat," she said in a deep voice. + +"Thank you, sir," said Sandy, absently. He scarcely knew whether he +was sitting or standing. He only wanted to be let alone, so that he +could listen to those strange, beautiful sounds that made a shiver of +joy go down his back. Art had had her day; it was Music's turn. + +When the last number had been played, he turned to the queer lady: + +"Do they do it every night?" + +She smiled at his enthusiasm: "Wednesdays and Saturdays." + +"Say," said Sandy, confidentially, "if you come first do you save me +a seat, and I'll do the same by you." + +From that time on he decided to be a musician, and he lived on two +scanty meals a day in order to attend the concerts. + +But this exalted scheme of high thinking and plain living soon became +irksome. One day, when his loneliness weighed most heavily upon him, +he was sent with a message out to the switch-station. As he tramped +back along the track he spied a familiar figure ahead of him. There +was no mistaking that short, slouching body with the peddler's pack +strapped on its back. With a cry of joy, Sandy bounded after Ricks +Wilson. He actually hugged him in his joy to be once more with some +one he knew. + +Ricks glanced uneasily at the scar above his eye. + +Sandy clapped his hand over it and laughed. "It's all right, Ricks; a +miss is as good as a mile. I ain't mad any more. It's straight home +with me you are goin'; and if we can get the two feet of you into me +bit of a room, we'll have a dinner that's fit for a king." + +On the way they laid in a supply of provisions, Sandy even going to +the expense of a bottle of beer for Ricks. + +The yellow kitten arched her back and showed general signs of +hostility when the stranger was introduced. But her unfriendly +demonstrations were ignored. Ricks was the honored guest, and Sandy +extended to him the full hospitality of the establishment. + +"Put your pack on the floor and yerself in the chair, and I'll get ye +filled up in the blink of an eyelash. Don't be mindin' the cat, Ricks. +She's just lettin' on she don't take to you. She give me the wink on +the sly." + +Ricks, expanding under the influence of food and drink, became +eloquent. He recounted courageous adventures of the past, and outlined +marvelous schemes for the future, by which he was going to make a +short cut to fame and glory. + +When it was time for him to go, Sandy heaved a sigh of regret. For +two hours he had been beguiled by Ricks's romances, and now he had to +go back to the humdrum duties at the depot, and receive a sound rating +for his belated appearance. + +"Which way might you be goin', Ricks?" he asked wistfully. + +"Same place I started fer," said Ricks. "Kentucky." + +The will-o'-the-wisp, which had been hiding his light, suddenly swung +it full in the eyes of Sandy. Once more he saw the little maid of his +dreams, and once more he threw discretion to the winds and followed +the vision. + +Hastily collecting his few possessions, he rolled them into a bundle, +and slipping the surprised kitten into his pocket, he gladly followed +Ricks once more out into the broad green meadows, along the white and +shining roads that lead over the hills to Kentucky. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +SANDY RETIRES FROM BUSINESS + + +"This here is too blame slow fer me," said Ricks, one chilly night in +late September, as he and Sandy huddled against a haystack and settled +up their weekly accounts. + +"Fifty-five cents! Now ain't that a' o'nery dab? Here's a quarter fer +you and thirty cents fer me; that's as even as you kin split it." + +"It's the microscopes that'll be sellin'," said Sandy, hopefully, as +he pulled his coat collar about his ears and shivered. "The man as +sold 'em to me said they was a great bargain entirely. He thought +there was money in 'em." + +"For him," said Ricks, contemptuously. "It's like the man what gulled +us on the penknives. I lay to git even with him, all right." + +"But he give us the night's lodgin' and some breakfast," said Sandy. + +Ricks took a long drink from a short bottle, then holding it before +him, he said impressively: "A feller could do me ninety-nine good +turns, and if he done me one bad one it would wipe 'em all out. I got +to git even with anybody what does me dirty, if it takes me all my +life." + +"But don't you forget to remember?" + +"Not me. I ain't that kind." + +Sandy leaned wearily against the haystack and tried to shelter himself +from the wind. A continued diet of bread and water had made him +sensitive to the changes in the weather. + +"This here grub is kinder hard on yer head-rails," said Ricks, trying +to bite through a piece of stale bread. A baker had let them have +three loaves for a dime because they were old and hard. + +Sandy cast a longing look at Ricks's short bottle. It seemed to +remedy so many ills, heat or cold, thirst or hunger. But the strict +principles applied during his tender years made him hesitate. + +"I wish we hadn't lost the kitten," he said, feeling the need of a +more cheerful companion. + +"I'm a-goin' to git another dawg," announced Ricks. "I'm sick of this +here doin's." + +"Ain't we goin' to be turfmen?" asked Sandy, who had listened by the +hour to thrilling accounts of life on the track, and had accepted +Ricks's ambition as his own. + +"Not on twenty cents per week," growled Ricks. + +Sandy's heart sank; he knew what a new dog meant. He burrowed in the +hay and tried to sleep, but there was a queer pain that seemed to +catch hold of his breath whenever he breathed down deep. + +It rained the next day, and they tramped disconsolately through +village after village. + +They had oil-cloth covers for their baskets, but their own backs were +soaked to the skin. + +Toward evening they came to the top of a hill, from which they could +look directly down upon a large town lying comfortably in the crook of +a river's elbow. The rain had stopped, and the belated sun, struggling +through the clouds, made up for lost time by reflecting itself in +every curve of the winding stream, in every puddle along the road, and +in every pane of glass that faced the west. + +"That's a nobby hoss," said Ricks, pointing down the hill. "What's the +matter with the feller?" + +A slight, delicate-looking young man was lying in the road, between +the horse and the fence. As the boys came up he stirred and tried to +rise. + +"He's off his nut," said Ricks, starting to pass on; but Sandy +stopped. + +"Get a fall?" he asked. + +The strange boy shook his head. "I guess I fainted. I must have +ridden too hard. I'll be all right in a minute." He leaned his head +against a tree and closed his eyes. + +Sandy eyed him curiously, taking in all the details of his +riding-costume down to the short whip with the silver mounting. + +"I say, Ricks," he called to his companion, who was inspecting the +horse, "can't we do somethin' for him?" + +Ricks reluctantly produced the short bottle. + +"I'm all right," insisted the boy, "if you'll just give me a lift to +the saddle." But his eager eyes followed the bottle, and before Ricks +had returned it to his pocket he held out his hand. "I believe I will +take a drink if you don't mind." He drained the contents and then +handed a coin to Ricks. + +"Now, if you'll help me," continued the stranger. "There! Thank you +very much." + +"Say, what town is this, anyway?" asked Ricks. + +"Clayton," said the boy, trying to keep his horse from backing. + +"Looks like somethin' was doin'," said Ricks. + +"Circus, I believe." + +"Then I don't blame your nag for wantin' to go back!" cried Sandy. +"Come on, Ricks; let's take in the show!" + +Half-way down the hill he turned. "Haven't we seen that fellow before, +Ricks?" + +"Not as I knows of. He looked kinder pale and shaky, but you bet yer +life he knowed how to hit the bottle." + +"He was sick," urged Sandy. + +"An' thirsty," added Ricks, with a smile of superior wisdom. + +The circus seemed such a timely opportunity to do business that they +decided to rent a stand that night and sell their wares on the street +corner. Ricks went on into town to arrange matters, while Sandy +stopped in a grocery to buy their supper. His interest in the show had +been of short duration. He felt listless and tired, something seemed +to be buzzing continually in his head, and he shivered in his damp +clothes. In the grocery he sat on a barrel and leaned his head against +the wall. + +"What you shivering about?" asked the fat woman behind the counter, as +she tied up his small package. + +"I feel like me skeleton was doin' a jig inside of me," said Sandy +through chattering teeth. + +"Looks to me like you got a chill," said the fat woman. "You wait +here, and I'll go git you some hot coffee." + +She disappeared in the rear of the store, and soon returned with a +small coffee-pot and a cup and saucer. Sandy drank two cups and a +half, then he asked the price. + +"Price?" repeated the woman, indignantly. "I reckon you don't know +which side of the Ohio River you're on!" + +Sandy made up in gratitude what she declined in cash, and started on +his way. At the corner of Main street and the bridge he found Ricks, +who had rented a stand and was already arranging his wares. Sandy +knelt on the sidewalk and unpacked his basket. + +"Only three bars of soap and seventy-five microscopes!" he exclaimed +ruefully. "Let's be layin' fine stress on the microscopes, Ricks." + +"You do the jawin', Sandy. I ain't much on givin' 'em the talk," said +Ricks. "Chuck a jolly at 'em and keep 'em hangin' round." + +As dark came on, trade began. The three bars of soap were sold, and a +purple necktie. Sandy saw that public taste must be guided in the +proper direction. He stepped up on a box and began eloquently to +enumerate the diverse uses of microscopes. + +At each end of the stand a flaring torch lighted up the scene. The +light fell on the careless, laughing faces in front, on Ricks Wilson, +black-browed and suspicious, in the rear, and it fell full on Sandy, +who stood on high and harangued the crowd. It fell on his broad, +straight shoulders and on his shining tumbled hair; but it was not +the light of the torch that gave the brightness to his eyes and the +flush to his cheek. His head was throbbing, but he felt a curious +sense of elation. He felt that he could stand there and talk the rest +of his life. He made the crowd listen, he made it laugh, he made it +buy. He told stories and sang songs, he coaxed and persuaded, until +only a few microscopes were left and the old cigar-box was heavy with +silver. + +"Step right up and take a look at a fly's leg! Every one ought to have +a microscope in his home. When you get hard up it will make a dime +look like a dollar, and a dollar like a five-dollar gold piece. Step +right up! I ain't kiddin' you. Five cents for two looks, and fifteen +for the microscope." + +Suddenly he faltered. At the edge of the crowd he had recognized two +faces. They were sensitive slender faces, strangely alike in feature +and unlike in expression. The young horseman of the afternoon was +impatiently pushing his way through the crowd, while close behind him +was a dainty girl with brown eyes slightly lifted at the outer +corners, who held back in laughing wonder to watch the scene. + +"Ricks," said Sandy, lowering his voice unsteadily, "is this +Kentucky?" + +"Yep; we crossed the line to-day." + +"I can't talk no more," said Sandy. "You'll have to be doin' it. I'm +sick." + +It was not only the fever that was burning in his veins, and making +him bury his hot head in his hands and wish he had never been born. It +was shame and humiliation, and all because of the look on the face of +the girl at the edge of the crowd. He sat in the shadow of the big box +and fought his fight. The coffee and the excitement no longer kept him +up; he was faint, and his breath came short. Above him he heard +Ricks's rasping voice still talking to the few customers who were +left. He knew, without glancing up, just how Ricks looked when he said +the words; he knew how his teeth pushed his lips back, and how his +restless little eyes watched everything at once. A sudden fierce +repulsion swept over him for peddling, for Ricks, for himself. + +"And to think," he whispered, with a sob in his throat, "that I can't +ever speak to a girl like that!" + +Ricks, jubilant over the success of the evening, decided to follow the +circus, which was to be in the next town on the following day. + +"It ain't fur," he said. "We kin push on to-night and be ready to open +early in the morning." + +Sandy, miserable in body and spirit, mechanically obeyed instructions. +His head was getting queerer all the time, and he could not remember +whether it was day or night. About a mile from Clayton he sank down by +the road. + +"Say, Ricks," he said abruptly; "I'm after quittin' peddlin'." + +"What you goin' to do?" + +"I'm goin' to school." + +If Sandy had announced his intention of putting on baby clothes and +being wheeled in a perambulator, Ricks could not have been more +astonished. + +"What?" he asked in genuine doubt. + +"'Cause I want to be the right sort," burst out Sandy, passionately. +"This ain't the way you get to be the right sort." + +Ricks surveyed him contemptuously. "Look-a here, are you comin' along +of me or not?" + +"I can't," said Sandy, weakly. + +Ricks shifted his pack, and with never a parting word or a backward +look he left his business partner of three months lying by the +roadside, and tramped away in the darkness. + +Sandy started up to follow him; he tried to call, but he had no +strength. He lay with his face on the road and talked. He knew there +was nobody to listen, but still he kept on, softly talking about +microscopes and pink soap, crying out again and again that he +couldn't ever speak to a girl like that. + +After a long while somebody came. At first he thought he must have +gone back to the land behind the peat-flames, for it was a great black +witch who bent over him, and he instinctively felt about in the grass +for the tender, soft hand which he used to press against his cheek. He +found instead the hand of the witch herself, and he drew back in +terror. + +"Fer de Lawd sake, honey, what's de matter wif you?" asked a kindly +voice. Sandy opened his eyes. A tall old negro woman bent over him, +her head tied up in a turban, and a shawl about her shoulders. + +"Did you git runned over?" she asked, peering down at him anxiously. + +Sandy tried to explain, but it was all the old mixture of soap and +microscopes and never being able to speak to her. He knew he was +talking at random, but he could not say the things he thought. + +"Where'd you come from, boy?" + +"Curragh Chase, Limerick," murmured Sandy. + +"'Fore de Lawd, he's done been cunjered!" cried the old woman, aghast. +"I'll git it outen of you, chile. You jus' come home wif yer Aunt +Melvy; she'll take keer of you. Put yer arm on my shoulder; dat's +right. Don't you mind where you gwine at. I got yer bundle. It ain't +fur. Hit's dat little house a-hangin' on de side of de hill. Dey calls +it 'Who'd 'a' Thought It,' 'ca'se you nebber would 'a' thought of +puttin' a house dere. Dat's right; lean on yer mammy. I'll git dem old +cunjers outen you." + +Thus encouraged and supported, Sandy stumbled on through the dark, up +a hillside that seemed never to end, across a bridge, then into a tiny +log cabin, where he dropped exhausted. + +Off and on during the night he knew that there was a fire in the room, +and that strange things were happening to him. But it was all so queer +and unnatural that he did not know where the dreams left off and the +real began. He was vaguely conscious of his left foot being tied to +the right bedpost, of a lock of his hair being cut off and burned on +the hearth, and of a low monotonous chant that seemed to rise and fall +with the flicker of the flames. And when he cried out with the pain in +his sleep, a kindly black face bent over him, and the chant changed +into a soothing murmur: + +"Nebber you min', sonny; Aunt Melvy gwine git dem cunjers out. She +gwine stay by you. You hol' on to her han', an' go to sleep; she'll +git dem old cunjers out." + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +HOLLIS FARM + + +Clayton was an easy-going, prosperous old town which, in the +enthusiasm of youth, had started to climb the long hill to the north, +but growing indolent with age, had decided instead to go around. + +Main street, broad and shady under an unbroken arch of maple boughs, +was flanked on each side by "Back street," the generic term applied to +all the parallel streets. The short cross-streets were designated by +the most direct method: "the street by the Baptist church," "the +street by Dr. Fenton's," "the street going out to Judge Hollis's," or +"the street where Mr. Moseley used to live." In the heart of the town +was the square, with the gray, weather-beaten court-house, the new and +formidable jail, the post-office and church. + +For twenty years Dr. Fenton's old high-seated buggy had jogged over +the same daily course. It started at nine o'clock and passed with +never-varying regularity up one street and down another. When any one +was ill a sentinel was placed at the gate to hail the doctor, who was +as sure to pass as the passenger-train. It was a familiar joke in +Clayton that the buggy had a regular track, and that the wheels always +ran in the same rut. Once, when Carter Nelson had taken too much +egg-nog and his aunt thought he had spinal meningitis, the usual route +had been reversed, and again when the blacksmith's triplets were born. +But these were especial occasions. It was a matter for investigation +when the doctor's buggy went over the bridge before noon. + +"Anybody sick out this way?" asked the miller. + +The doctor stopped the buggy to explain. + +He was a short, fat man dressed in a suit of Confederate gray. The +hand that held the reins was minus two fingers, his willing +contribution to the Lost Cause, which was still to him the great +catastrophe of all history. His whole personality was a bristling +arsenal of prejudices. When he spoke it was in quick, short volleys, +in a voice that seemed to come from the depths of a megaphone. + +"Strange boy sick at Judge Hollis's. How's trade?" + +"Fair to middlin'," answered the miller. "Do you reckon that there boy +has got anything ketchin'?" + +"Catching?" repeated the doctor savagely. "What if he has?" he +demanded. "Two epidemics of typhoid, two of yellow fever, and one of +smallpox--that's my record, sir!" + +"Looks like my children will ketch a fly-bite," said the miller, +apologetically. + +A little farther on the doctor was stopped again--this time by a +maiden in a pink-and-white gingham, with a mass of light curls +bobbing about her face. + +"Dad!" she called as she scrambled over the fence. "Where you g-going, +dad?" + +The doctor flapped the lines nervously and tried to escape, but she +pursued him madly. Catching up with the buggy, she pulled herself up +on the springs and thrust an impudent, laughing face through the +window at the back. + +"Annette," scolded her father, "aren't you ashamed? Fourteen years +old, and a tomboy! Get down!" + +"Where you g-going, dad?" she stammered, unabashed. + +"To Judge Hollis's. Get down this minute!" + +"What for?" + +"Somebody's sick. Get down, I say!" + +Instead of getting down, she got in, coming straight through the small +window, and arriving in a tangle of pink and white at his side. + +The doctor heaved a prodigious sigh. As a colonel of the Confederacy +he had exacted strict discipline and unquestioning obedience, but he +now found himself ignominiously reduced to the ranks, and another +Fenton in command. + +At Hollis Farm the judge met them at the gate. He was large and +loose-jointed, with the frame of a Titan and the smile of a child. He +wore a long, loose dressing-gown and a pair of slippers elaborately +embroidered in green roses. His big, irregular features were softened +by an expression of indulgent interest toward the world at large. + +"Good morning, doctor. Howdy, Nettie. How are you all this morning?" + +"Who's sick?" growled the doctor as he hitched his horse to the fence. + +"It's a stray lad, doctor; my old cook, Melvy, played the good +Samaritan and picked him up off the road last night. She brought him +to me this morning. He's out of his head with a fever." + +"Where'd he come from?" asked the doctor. + +"Mrs. Hollis says he was peddling goods up at Main street and the +bridge last night." + +"Which one is he?" demanded Annette, eagerly, as she emerged from the +buggy. "Is he g-good-looking, with blue eyes and light hair? Or is he +b-black and ugly and sort of cross-eyed?" + +The judge peered over his glasses quizzically. "Thinking about the +boys, as usual! Now I want to know what business you have noticing the +color of a peddler's eyes?" + +Annette blushed, but she stood her ground. "All the g-girls noticed +him. He wasn't an ordinary peddler. He was just as smart and f-funny +as could be." + +"Well, he isn't smart and funny now," said the judge, with a grim +laugh. + +The two men passed up the long avenue and into the house. At the door +they were met by Mrs. Hollis, whose small angular person breathed +protest. Her black hair was arranged in symmetrical bands which were +drawn tightly back from a straight part. When she talked, a +gold-capped tooth was disclosed on each side of her mouth, giving rise +to the judge's joke that one was capped to keep the other company, +since Mrs. Hollis's sense of order and regularity rebelled against one +eye-tooth of one color and the other of another. + +"Good morning, doctor," she said shortly; "there's the door-mat. No, +don't put your hat there; I'll take it. Isn't this a pretty business +for Melvy to come bringing a sick tramp up here--on general +cleaning-day, too?" + +"Aren't all days cleaning-days to you, Sue?" asked the judge, +playfully. + +"When you are in the house," she answered sharply. Then she turned to +the doctor, who was starting up the stairs: + +"If this boy is in for a long spell, I want him moved somewhere. I +can't have my carpets run over and my whole house smelling like a +hospital." + +"Now, Susan," remonstrated the judge, gently, "we can't turn the lad +out. We've got room and to spare. If he's got the fever, he'll have +to stay." + +"We'll see, we'll see," said the doctor. + +But when he tiptoed down from the room above there was no question +about it. + +"Very sick boy," he said, rubbing his hand over his bald head. "If he +gets better, I might take him over to Mrs. Meech's; he can't be moved +now." + +"Mrs. Meech!" cried Mrs. Hollis, in fine scorn. "Do you think I would +let him go to that dirty house--and with this fever, too? Why, Mrs. +Meech's front curtains haven't been washed since Christmas! She and +the preacher and Martha all sit around with their noses in books, and +never even know that the water-spout is leaking and the porch needs +mopping! You can't tell me anything about the Meeches!" + +Neither of the men tried to do so; they stood silent in the doorway, +looking very grave. + +"For mercy sake! what is that in the front lot?" exclaimed Mrs. +Hollis. + +The doctor had an uncomfortable premonition, which was promptly +verified. One of the judge's friskiest colts was circling madly about +the driveway, while astride of it, in triumph, sat Annette, her dress +ripped at the belt, her hair flying. + +"If she don't need a woman's hand!" exclaimed Mrs. Hollis. "I could +manage her all right." + +The doctor looked from Mrs. Hollis, with her firm, close-shut mouth, +to the flying figure on the lawn. + +"Perhaps," he said, lifting his brows; but he put the odds on Annette. + +That night, when Aunt Melvy brought the lamp into the sitting-room, +she waited nervously near Mrs. Hollis's chair. + +"Miss Sue," she ventured presently, "is de cunjers comin' out?" + +"The what?" + +"De cunjers what dat pore chile's got. I done tried all de spells I +knowed, but look lak dey didn't do no good." + +"He has the fever," said Mrs. Hollis; "and it means a long spell of +nursing and bother for me." + +The judge stirred uncomfortably. "Now, Sue," he remonstrated, "you +needn't take a bit of bother. Melvy will see to him by day, and I will +look after him at night." + +Mrs. Hollis bit her lip and heroically refrained from expressing her +mind. + +"He's a mighty purty chile," said Aunt Melvy, tentatively. + +"He's a common tramp," said Mrs. Hollis. + +After supper, arranging a tray with a snowy napkin and a steaming bowl +of broth, Mrs. Hollis went up to the sick-room. Her first step had +been to have the patient bathed and combed and made presentable for +the occupancy of the guest-chamber. It had been with rebellion of +spirit that she placed him there, but the judge had taken one of those +infrequent stands which she knew it was useless to resist. She put the +tray on a table near the big four-poster bed, and leaned over to look +at the sleeper. + +Sandy lay quiet among the pillows, his fair hair tumbled, his lips +parted. As the light fell on his flushed face he stirred. + +"Here's your supper," said Mrs. Hollis, her voice softening in spite +of herself. He was younger than she had thought. She slipped her arm +under the pillow and raised his head. + +"You must eat," she said kindly. + +He looked at her vacantly, then a momentary consciousness flitted over +his face, a vague realization that he was being cared for. He put up a +hot hand and gently touched her cheek; then, rallying all his +strength, he smiled away his debt of gratitude. It was over in a +moment, and he sank back unconscious. + +[Illustration: "He smiled away his debt of gratitude"] + +Through the dreary hours of the night Mrs. Hollis sat by the bed, +nursing him with the aching tenderness that only a childless woman can +know. Below, in the depths of a big feather-bed, the judge slept in +peaceful unconcern, disturbing the silence by a series of long, loud, +and unmelodious snores. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +CONVALESCENCE + + +"Is that the Nelson phaëton going out the road?" asked Mrs. Hollis as +she peered out through the dining-room window one morning. "I +shouldn't be a bit surprised if it was Mrs. Nelson making her yearly +visits, and here my bricks haven't been reddened." + +Sandy's heart turned a somersault. He was sitting up for the first +time, wrapped in blankets and wearing a cap to cover his close-cropped +head. All through his illness he had been tortured by the thought that +he had talked of Ruth, though now wild horses could not have dragged +forth a question concerning her. + +"Melvy," continued Mrs. Hollis, as she briskly rubbed the sideboard +with some unsavory furniture-polish, "if Mrs. Nelson does come here, +you be sure to put on your white apron before you open the door; and +for pity sake don't forget the card-tray! You ought to know better +than to stick out your hand for a lady's calling-card. I told you +about that last week." + +Aunt Melvy paused in her dusting and chuckled: "Lor', honey, dat's +right! You orter put on airs all de time, wid all de money de judge is +got. He says to me yisterday, says he, 'Can't you 'suade yer Miss Sue +not to be cleanin' up so much, an' not to go out in de front yard wid +dat ole sunbonnet on?'" + +"Well, I'd like to know how things would get done if I didn't do +them," exclaimed Mrs. Hollis, hotly. "I suppose he would like me to +let things go like the Meeches! The only time I ever saw Mrs. Meech +work was when she swept the front pavement, and then she made Martha +walk around behind her and read out loud while she was doing it." + +"It's Mr. Meech that's in the yard now," announced Sandy from the +side window. "He's raking the leaves with one hand and a-reading a +book with the other." + +"I knew it!" cried Mrs. Hollis. "I never saw such doings. They say she +even leaves the dishes overnight. And yet she can sit on her porch and +smile at people going by, just like her house was cleaned up. I hate a +hypocrite." + +Sandy had had ample time to watch the Meeches during his long +convalescence. He had been moved from the spare room to a snug little +room over the kitchen, which commanded a fine view of the neighbors. +When the green book got too heavy to hold, or his eyes grew too tired +to look at the many magazines with which the judge supplied him, he +would lie still and watch the little drama going on next door. + +Mrs. Meech was a large, untidy woman who always gave the impression of +needing to be tucked up. The end of her gray braid hung out behind one +ear, her waist hung out of her belt, and even the buttons on her +shoes hung out of the buttonholes in shameless laziness. + +Mr. Meech did not need tucking in; he needed letting out. He seemed to +have shrunk in the wash of life. In spite of the fact that he was +three sizes too small for his wife, to begin with, he emphasized it by +wearing trousers that cleared his shoe-tops and sleeves half-way to +his elbows. But this was only on week-days, for on Sunday Sandy would +see him emerge, expand, and flutter forth in an ample suit of shiny +broadcloth. For Mr. Meech was the pastor of the Hard-Shell Baptist +Church in Clayton, and if his domestic economy was a matter of open +gossip, there was no question concerning the fact of his learning. It +had been the boast of the congregation for years that Judge Hollis was +the only man in town who was smart enough to understand his sermons. +When Mr. Meech started out in the morning with a book under his arm +and one sticking out of each pocket, Sandy would pull up on his elbow +to watch proceedings. He loved to see fat Mrs. Meech pat the little +man lovingly on the head and kiss him good-by; he loved to see Martha +walk with him to the gate and throw kisses after him until he turned +the curve in the road. + +Martha was a pale, thin girl with two long, straight plaits and a +long, straight dress. She went to school in the morning, and when she +came home at noon her mother always hurried to meet her and kissed her +on both cheeks. Sandy had got quite in the habit of watching for her +at the side window where she came to study. He leaned forward now to +see if she were there. + +"I thought so!" cried Mrs. Hollis, looking over his shoulder. "There +comes the Nelson phaëton this minute! Melvy, get on your white apron. +I'll wind up the cuckoo-clock and unlock the parlor door." + +"Who is it?" ventured Sandy, with internal tremors. + +"Hit's Mrs. Nelson an' her niece, Miss Rufe," said Aunt Melvy, +nervously trying to reverse her apron after tying the bow in the +front. "Dey's big bugs, dey is. Dey is quality, an' no mistake. I +b'longed to Miss Rufe's grandpaw; he done lef' her all his money, she +an' Mr. Carter. Poor Mr. Carter! Dey say he ain't got no lungs to +speak of. Ain't no wonder he's sorter wild like. He takes after his +grandpaw, my ole mars'. Lor', honey, de mint-juleps jus' nachelly ooze +outen de pores ob his grandpaw's skin! But Miss Rufe she ain't like +none ob dem Nelsons; she favors her maw. She's quality inside an' +out." + +A peal of the bell cut short further interesting revelations. Aunt +Melvy hurried through the hall, leaving doors open behind her. At the +front door she paused in dismay. Before her stood the Nelsons in +calling attire, presenting two immaculate cards for her acceptance. +Too late she remembered her instructions. + +"'Fore de Lawd!" she cried in consternation, "ef I ain't done fergit +dat pan ag'in!" + +Sandy, left alone in the dining-room, was listening with every nerve +a-quiver for the sound of Ruth's voice. The thought that she was here +under the same roof with him sent the blood bounding through his +veins. He pulled himself up, and trailing the blanket behind him, made +his way somewhat unsteadily across the room and up the back stairs. + +Behind the door of his room hung the pride of his soul, a new suit of +clothes, whole, patchless, clean, which the judge had bought him two +days before. He had sat before it in speechless admiration; he had +hung it in every possible light to get the full benefit of its beauty; +he had even in the night placed it on a chair beside the bed, so that +he could put out his hand in the dark and make sure it was there. For +it was the first new suit of clothes that he remembered ever to have +possessed. He had not intended to wear it until Sunday, but the +psychological moment had arrived. + +With trembling fingers and many pauses for rest, he made his toilet. +He looked in the mirror, and his heart nearly burst with pride. The +suit, to be sure, hung limp on his gaunt frame, and his shaven head +gave him the appearance of a shorn lamb, but to Sandy the reflection +was eminently satisfying. One thing only seemed to be lacking. He +meditated a moment, then, with some misgiving, picked up a small linen +doily from the dresser, and carefully folding it, placed it in his +breast-pocket, with one corner just visible. + +Triumphant in mind, if weak in body, he slipped down the back steps, +skirted Aunt Melvy's domain, and turned the corner of the house just +as the Nelson phaëton rolled out of the yard. Before he had time to +give way to utter despair a glimmer of hope appeared on the horizon, +for the phaëton stopped, and there was evidently something the matter. +Sandy did not wait for it to be remedied. He ran down the road with +all the speed he could muster. + +Near the gate where the little branch crossed the turnpike was a +slight embankment, and two wheels of the phaëton had slipped over the +edge and were buried deep in the soft earth. Beside it, sitting +indignantly in the water, was an irate lady who had evidently +attempted to get out backward and had taken a sudden and unexpected +seat. Her countenance was a pure specimen of Gothic architecture; a +massive pompadour reared itself above two Gothic eyebrows which +flanked a nose of unquestioned Gothic tendencies. Her mouth, with its +drooping corners, completed the series of arches, and the whole +expression was one of aspiring melancholy and injured majesty. + +Kneeling at her side, reassuring her and wiping the water from her +hands, was Ruth Nelson. + +"God send you ain't hurt, ma'am!" cried Sandy, arriving breathless. + +The girl looked up and shook her head in smiling protest, but the +Gothic lady promptly suffered a relapse. + +"I am--I know I am! Just look at my dress covered with mud, and my +glove is split. Get my smelling-salts, Ruth!" + +Ruth, upon whom the lady was leaning, turned to Sandy. + +"Will you hand it to me? It is in the little bag there on the seat." + +Sandy rushed to do her bidding. He was rather hazy as to the object of +his search; but when his fingers touched a round, soft ball he drew it +forth and hastily presented it to the lady's Roman nose. + +She, with closed eyes, was taking deep whiffs when a laugh startled +her. + +"Oh, Aunt Clara, it's your powder-puff!" cried Ruth, unable to +restrain her mirth. + +Mrs. Nelson rose with as much dignity as her draggled condition would +permit. "You'd better get me home," she said solemnly. "I may be +internally injured." She turned to Sandy. "Boy, can't you get that +phaëton back on the road?" + +Sandy, whose chagrin over his blunder had sent him to the background, +came promptly forward. Seizing the wheel, he made several ineffectual +efforts to lift it back to the road. + +"It is not moving an inch!" announced the mournful voice from above. +"Can't you take hold of it nearer the back, and exert a little more +strength?" + +Sandy bit his lip and shot a swift glance at Ruth. She was still +smiling. With savage determination he fell upon the wheel as if it had +been a mortal foe; he pushed and shoved and pulled, and finally, with +a rally of all his strength, he went on his knees in the mud and +lifted the phaëton back on the road. + +Then came a collapse, and he leaned against the nearest tree and +struggled with the deadly faintness that was stealing over him. + +"Why--why, you are the boy who was sick!" cried Ruth, in dismay. + +Sandy, white and trembling, shook his head protestingly. "It's me +bellows that's rocky," he explained between gasps. + +Mrs. Nelson rustled back into the phaëton, and taking a piece of money +from her purse, held it out to him. + +"That will amply repay you," she said. + +Sandy flushed to the roots of his close-cropped hair. A tip, +heretofore a gift of the gods, had suddenly become an insult. Angry, +impetuous words rushed to his lips, and he took a step forward. Then +he was aware of a sudden change in the girl, who had just stepped into +the phaëton. She shot a quick, indignant look at her aunt, then turned +around and smiled a good-by to him. + +He lifted his cap and said, "I thank ye." But it was not to Mrs. +Nelson, who still held the money as they drove out of the avenue. + +Sandy went wearily back to the house. He had made his first trial in +behalf of his lady fair, but his soul knew no elation. His beautiful +new armor had sustained irreparable injury, and his vanity had +received a mortal wound. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +AUNT MELVY AS A SOOTHSAYER + + +It was a crisp afternoon in late October. The road leading west from +Clayton ran the gantlet of fiery maples and sumac until it reached the +barren hillside below "Who'd 'a' Thought It." The little cabin clung +to the side of the steep slope like a bit of fungus to the trunk of a +tree. + +In the doorway sat three girls, one tall and dark, one plump and fair, +and the third straight and thin. They were anxiously awaiting the +revelation of the future as disclosed by Aunt Melvy's far-famed +tea-leaves. The prophetess kept them company while waiting for the +water to boil. + +"He sutenly is a peart boy," she was saying. "De jedge done start him +in plumb at de foot up at de 'cademy, an' dey tell me he's ketchin' up +right along." + +"Wasn't it g-grand in Judge Hollis to send him to school?" said +Annette. "Of course he's going to work for him b-between times. They +say even Mrs. Hollis is glad he is going to stay." + +"'Co'se she is," said Aunt Melvy; "dere nebber was nobody come it over +Miss Sue lak he done." + +"Father says he is very quick," ventured Martha Meech, a faint color +coming to her dull cheek at this unusual opportunity of descanting +upon such an absorbing subject. "Father told Judge Hollis he would +help him with his lessons, and that he thought it would be only a +little while before he was up with the other boys." + +"Dad says he's a d-dandy," cried Annette. "And isn't it grand he's +going to be put on the ball team and the glee club!" + +Ruth rose to break a branch laden with crimson maple-leaves. "Was he +ever here before?" she asked in puzzled tones. "I have seen him +somewhere, and I can't think where." + +"Well, I'd never f-forget him," said Annette. "He's got the jolliest +face I ever saw. M-Martha says he can jump that high fence b-back of +the Hollises' without touching it. I d-drove dad's buggy clear up over +the curbstone yesterday, so he would come to the r-rescue, and he +swung on to old B-Baldy's neck like he had been a race-horse." + +"But you don't know him," protested Ruth. "And, besides, he was--he +was a peddler." + +"I don't care if he was," said Annette. "And if I don't know him, it's +no sign I am not g-going to." + +Aunt Melvy chuckled as she rose to encourage the fire with a pair of +squeaking old bellows. + +Martha looked about the room curiously. "Can you really tell what's +going to happen?" she asked timidly. + +"Indeed she can," said Annette. "She told Jane Lewis that she was +g-going to have some g-good luck, and the v-very next week her aunt +died and left her a turquoise-ring!" + +"Yas, chile," said Aunt Melvy, bending over the fire to light her +pipe; "I been habin' divisions for gwine on five year. Dat's what made +me think I wuz gwine git religion; but hit ain't come yit--not yit. +I'm a mourner an' a seeker." Her pipe dropped unheeded, and she gazed +with fixed eyes out of the window. + +"Tell us about your visions," demanded Annette. + +"Well," said Aunt Melvy, "de fust I knowed about it wuz de lizards in +my legs. I could feel 'em jus' as plain as day, dese here little green +lizards a-runnin' round inside my legs. I tole de doctor 'bout hit, +Miss Nettie; but he said 't warn't nothin' but de fidgits. I knowed +better 'n he did dat time. Dat night I had a division, an' de dream +say, 'Put on yer purple mournin'-dress an' set wid yer feet in a +barrel ob b'ilin' water till de smoke comes down de chimbly.' An' so +I done, a-settin' up dere on dat chist o' drawers all night, wid my +purple mournin'-dress on an' my feet in de b'ilin' water, an' de +lizards run away so fur dat dey ain't even stopped yit." + +"Aunt Melvy, do you tell fortunes by palmistry?" asked Ruth. + +"Yas'm; I reckon dat's what you call hit. I tells by de tea-leaves. +Lor', Miss Rufe, you sutenly put me in min' o' yer grandmaw! She +kerried her haid up in de air jus' lak you do, an' she wuz jus' as +putty as you is, too. We libed in de ole plantation what's done burned +down now, an' I lubed my missus--I sutenly did. When my ole man fust +come here from de country I nebber seen sech a fool. He didn't know no +more 'bout courtin' dan nothin'; but I wuz better qualified. I jus' +tole ole miss how 't wuz, an' she fixed up de weddin'. I nebber will +fergit de day we walk ober de plantation an' say we wuz married. +George he had on a brand-new pair pants dat cost two hundred an' +sixty-four dollars in Confederate money." + +"Isn't the water b-boiling yet?" asked Annette, impatiently. + +"So 't is, so 't is," said Aunt Melvy, lifting the kettle from the +crane. She dropped a few tea-leaves in three china cups, and then with +great solemnity and occasional guttural ejaculations poured the water +over them. + +Before the last cup was filled, Annette, with a wry face, had drained +the contents of hers and held it out to Aunt Melvy. + +"There are my leaves. If they don't tell about a lover with b-blue +eyes and an Irish accent, I'll never b-believe them." + +Aunt Melvy bent over the cup, and her sides shook. "You gwine be a +farmer's wife," she said, chuckling at the girl's grimace. "You gwine +raise chickens an' chillun." + +"Ugh!" said Annette as the other girls laughed; "are his eyes b-blue?" + +Aunt Melvy pondered over the leaves. "Well, now, 'pears to me he's +sorter dark-complected an' fat, like Mr. Sid Gray," she said. + +"Never!" declared Annette. "I loathe Sid." + +"Tell my future!" cried Martha, pushing her cup forward eagerly. + +"Dey ain't none!" cried Aunt Melvy, aghast, as she saw the few broken +leaves in the bottom of the cup. "You done drinked up yer fortune. +Dat's de sign ob early death. I gwine fix you a good-luck bag; dey say +ef you carry it all de time, hit's a cross-sign ag'in' death." + +"But can't you tell me anything?" persisted Martha. + +"Dey ain't nothin' to tell," repeated Aunt Melvy, "'cep'n' to warn you +to carry dat good-luck bag all de time." + +"Now, mine," said Ruth, with an incredulous but curious smile. + +For several moments Aunt Melvy bent over the cup in deep +consideration, and then she rose and took it to the window, with +fearsome, anxious looks at Ruth meanwhile. Once or twice she made a +sign with her fingers, and frowned anxiously. + +"What is it, Aunt Melvy?" Ruth demanded. "Am I going to be an old +maid?" + +"'T ain't no time to joke, chile," whispered Aunt Melvy, all the +superstition of her race embodied in her trembling figure. "What I +see, I see. Hit's de galluses what I see in de bottom ob yer cup!" + +"Do you m-mean suspenders?" laughed Annette. + +Aunt Melvy did, not hear her; she was looking over the cup into space, +swaying and moaning. + +"To t'ink ob my ole missus' gran'chile bein' mixed up wif a gallus lak +dey hang de niggers on! But hit's dere, jus' as plain as day, de two +poles an' de cross-beam." + +Ruth laughed as she looked into the cup. + +"Is it for me?" + +"Don't know, honey; de signs don't p'int to no one person: but hit's +in yer life, an' de shadow rests ag'in' you." + +By this time Martha was at the door, urging the others to hurry. Her +face was pale and her eyes were troubled. Ruth saw her nervousness and +slipped her arm about her. "It's all in fun," she whispered. + +"Of course," said Annette. "You m-mustn't mind her foolishness. +Besides, I g-got the worst of it. I'd rather die young or be hanged, +any day, than to m-marry Sid Gray." + +Aunt Melvy followed them to the door, shaking her head. "I'se gwine +make you chillun some good-luck bags. De fust time de new moon holds +water I'se sholy gwine fix 'em. 'T ain't safe not to mind de signs; 't +ain't safe." + +And with muttered warnings she watched them until they were lost to +view behind the hill. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +TRANSITION + + +The change from the road to the school-room was not without many a +struggle on Sandy's part. The new life, the new customs, and the +strange language, were baffling. + +The day after the accident in the road, Mrs. Hollis had sent him to +inquire how old Mrs. Nelson was, and he had returned with the +astonishing report that she was sixty-one. + +"But you didn't ask her age?" cried Mrs. Hollis, horrified. + +Sandy looked perplexed. "I said what ye bid me," he declared. + +Everything he did, in fact, seemed to be wrong; and everything he +said, to bring a smile. He confided many a woe to Aunt Melvy as he +sat on the kitchen steps in the evenings. + +"Hit's de green rubbin' off," she assured him sympathetically. "De +same ones dat laugh at you now will be takin' off dey hats to you some +day." + +"Oh, it ain't the guyin' I mind," said Sandy; "it's me wooden head. +Them little shavers that can't see a hole in a ladder can beat me +figurin'." + +"You jus' keep on axin' questions," advised Aunt Melvy. "Dat's what I +always tole Rachael. Rachael's dat yaller gal up to Mrs. Nelson's. I +done raise her, an' she ain't a bit o'count. I use' ter say, 'You fool +nigger, how you ebber gwine learn nothin' effen you don't ax +questions?' An' she'd stick out her mouth an' say, 'Umph, umph; you +don't ketch me lettin' de white folks know how much sense I ain't +got.' Den she'd put on a white dress an' a white sunbonnet an' go +switchin' up de street, lookin' jus' lak a fly in a glass ob +buttermilk." + +"It's the mixed-up things that bother me," said Sandy. "Mr. Moseley +was telling of us to-day how ye lost a day out of the week when ye +went round the world one way, and gained a day when ye went round the +other." + +Aunt Melvy paused with the tea-towel in her hand. "Lost a day outen de +week? Where'd he say you lost it at?" + +Sandy shook his head in perplexity. + +"Dat's plumb foolishness," said Aunt Melvy, indignantly. "I'se +s'prised at Mr. Moseley, I sholy is. Dey sorter gits notions, dem +teachers does. When dey tells you stuff lak dat, honey, don't you pay +'em no mind." + +But Sandy did "pay 'em mind." He followed Aunt Melvy's advice about +asking questions, and wrestled with each new proposition until he +mastered it. It did not take him long, moreover, to distinguish the +difference between himself and those about him. The words and phrases +that had passed current on the street seemed to ring false here. He +watched the judge covertly and took notes. + +His progress at the academy was a singular succession of triumphs and +failures. His natural quickness, together with an enthusiastic +ambition to get on, enabled him soon to take his place among the boys +of his own age. But a superabundance of high spirits and an inordinate +love of fun caused many a dark entry on the debit side of his school +ledger. There were many times when he exasperated the judge to the +limit of endurance, for he was reckless and impulsive, charged to the +exploding-point with vitality, and ever and always the victim of his +last caprice; but when it came to the final issue, and the judge put a +question fairly before him, the boy was always on the side of right, +even though it proved him guilty. + +At first Mrs. Hollis had been strongly opposed to his remaining on the +farm, but she soon became silent on the subject. It was a heretofore +unknown luxury to have the outside work promptly and efficiently +attended to. He possessed "the easy grace that makes a joke of toil"; +and when he despatched his various chores and did even more than was +required of him, Mrs. Hollis capitulated. + +It was something more, however, than his ability and service that won +her. The affection of the world, which seemed to eddy around her, as a +rule, found an exception in Sandy. His big, exuberant nature made no +distinction: he swept over her, sharp edges and all; he teased her, +coaxed her, petted her, laughed at her, turned her tirades with a bit +of blarney, and in the end won her in spite of herself. + +"He's ketchin' on," reported Aunt Melvy, confidently. "I heared him +puttin' on airs in his talk. When dey stops talkin' nachel, den I +knows dey are learnin' somethin'." + + + + +CHAPTER X + +WATERLOO + + +It was not until three years had passed and Sandy had reached his +junior year that his real achievement was put to the test. + +After that harrowing experience in the Hollis driveway, he had seen +Ruth Nelson but twice. She had spent the winters at boarding-school, +and in the summers she traveled with her aunt. She was still the +divinity for whom he shaped his end, the compass that always brought +him back to the straight course. He looked upon her possible +recognition and friendship as a man looks upon his reward in heaven. +In the meantime he suffered himself to be consoled by less distant +joys. + +The greatest spur he had to study was Martha Meech. She thought he +was a genius; and while he found it a bit irksome to live up to his +reputation, he made an honest effort to deserve it. + +One spring afternoon the two were under the apple-trees, with their +books before them. The years that had lifted Sandy forward toward +vigor and strength and manhood had swept over Martha relentlessly, +beating out her frail strength, and leaving her weaker to combat each +incoming tide. Her straight, straw-colored hair lay smooth about her +delicate face, and in her eyes was the strained look of one who seeks +but is destined never to attain. + +"Let's go over the Latin once more," she was saying patiently, "just +to make sure you understand." + +"Devil a bit more!" cried Sandy, jumping up from where he lay in the +grass and tossing the book lightly from her hand; "it's the sin and +the shame to keep you poking in books, now the spring is here. +Martha, do you mind the sound of the wind in the tree-tops?" + +She nodded, and he went on: + +"Does it put strange words in your heart that you can't even think out +in your head? If I could be translating the wind and the river, I'd +never be minding the Latin again." + +Martha looked at him half timidly. + +"Sometimes, do you know, I almost think you are a poet, Sandy; you are +always thinking the things the poets write about." + +"Do you, now, true?" he asked seriously, dropping down on the grass +beside her. Then he laughed. "You'll be having me writing rhymes, now, +in a minute." + +"Why not?" she urged. + +"I must stick to my course," he said. "I'd never be a real one. They +work for the work's sake, and I work for the praise. If I win the +scholarship, it'll be because you want me to, Martha; if I come to be +a lawyer, it's because it's the wish of the judge's heart; and if I +win out in the end, it will be for the love of some one--some one who +cares more for that than for anything else in the world." + +She dropped her eyes, while he watched the flight of a song-bird as it +wheeled about overhead. Presently she opened an old portfolio and took +from it a little sketch. + +"I have been trying to get up courage to show it to you all week," she +said, with a deprecatory laugh. + +"It's the river," cried Sandy, "just at sundown, when the shadows are +slipping away from the bank! Martha, why didn't ye tell me? Are there +more?" + +He ransacked the portfolio, drawing out sketch after sketch and +exclaiming over each. They were crude little efforts, faulty in +drawing and in color; but the spirit was there, and Sandy had a vague +instinct for the essence of things. + +"I believe you're the real kind, Martha. They're crooked a bit, but +they've got the feel of the woods in 'em, all right. I can just hear +the water going over those stones." + +Martha's eyes glowed at the praise. For a year she had reached +forward blindly toward some outlet for her cramped, limited existence, +and suddenly a way seemed open toward the light. + +"I wanted to learn how before I showed you," she said. "I am never +going to show them to any one but you and mother and father." + +"But you must go somewhere to study," cried Sandy. "It's a great +artist you'll be some day." + +She shook her head. "It's not for me, Sandy. I'll always be like a +little beggar girl that peeps through the fence into a beautiful +garden. I know all the wonderful things are there, but I'll never get +to them." + +"But ye will," cried Sandy, hot with sympathy. "I'll be making money +some day, and I'll send ye to the finest master in the country; and +you will be getting well and strong, and we'll go--" + +Mr. Meech, shuffling up the walk toward them, interrupted. "Studying +for the examination, eh? That's right, my boy. The judge tells me +that you have a good chance to win the scholarship." + +"Did he, now?" said Sandy, with shameless pleasure; "and you, Mr. +Meech, do ye think the same?" + +"I certainly do," said Mr. Meech. "Anybody that can accomplish the +work you do at home, and hold your record at the academy, stands an +excellent chance." + +Sandy thought so, too, but he tried to be modest. "If it'll be in me, +it will come out," he said with suppressed triumph as he swung his +books across his shoulder and started home. + +Martha's eyes followed him wistfully, and she hoped for a backward +look before he turned in at the door. But he was absorbed in sailing a +broomstick across Aunt Melvy's pathway, causing her to drop her +basket and start after him in hot pursuit. + +That evening the judge glanced across the table with great +satisfaction at Sandy, who was apparently buried in his Vergil. The +boy, after all, was a student; he was justifying the money and time +that had been spent upon him; he was proving a credit to his +benefactor's judgment and to his knowledge of human nature. + +"Would ye mind telling me a word that rhymes with lance?" broke in +Sandy after an hour of absorbed concentration. + +"Pants," suggested the judge. But he woke up in the night to wonder +again what part of Vergil Sandy had been studying. + +"How about the scholarship?" he asked the next day of Mr. Moseley, the +principal of the academy. + +Mr. Moseley pursed his lips and considered the matter ponderously. He +regarded it as ill befitting an instructor of youth to dispose of any +subject in words of less than three syllables. + +"Your protégé, Judge Hollis, is an ambiguous proposition. He possesses +invention and originality, but he is sadly lacking in sustained +concentration." + +"But if he studies," persisted the judge, "you think he may win it?" + +Mr. Moseley wrinkled his brows and looked as if he were solving a +problem in Euclid. "Probably," he admitted; "but there is a most +insidious enemy with which he has to contend." + +"An enemy?" repeated the judge, anxiously. + +"My dear sir," said Mr. Moseley, sinking his voice to husky solemnity, +"the boy is stung by the tarantula of athletics!" + +It was all too true. The Ambiguous Proposition had found, soon after +reaching Clayton, that base-ball was what he had been waiting for all +his life. It was what he had been born for, what he had crossed the +ocean for, and what he would gladly have died for. + +There could have been no surer proof of his growing power of +concentration than that he kept a firm grasp on his academy work +during these trying days. It was a hand-to-hand fight with the great +mass of knowledge that had been accumulating at such a cruel rate +during the years he had spent out of school. He was making gallant +progress when a catastrophe occurred. + +The great ball game of the season, which was to be played in Lexington +between the Clayton team and the Lexington nine, was set for June 2. +And June 2 was the day which cruel fate--masked as the board of +trustees--had set for the academy examinations. Sandy was the only +member of the team who attended the academy, and upon him alone rested +the full agony of renunciation. His disappointment was so utterly +crushing that it affected the whole family. + +"Couldn't they postpone the game?" asked the judge. + +"It was the second that was the only day the Lexingtons could play," +said Sandy, in black despair. "And to think of me sitting in the +bloomin' old school-room while Sid Gray loses the game in me place!" + +For a week before the great event he lived in retirement. The one +topic of conversation in town was the ball game, and he found the +strain too great to be borne. The team was to go to Lexington on the +noon train with a mighty company of loyal followers. Every boy and +girl who could meet the modest expenses was going, save the +unfortunate victims of the junior class at the academy. Annette Fenton +had even had a dress made in the Clayton colors. + +As Sandy went into town on the important day, his heart was like a +rock in his breast. There was glorious sunshine everywhere, and a cool +little undercurrent of breezes stirred every leaf into a tiny banner +of victory. Up in the square, Johnson's colored band was having a +final rehearsal, while on the court-house steps the team, glorious in +new uniforms, were excitedly discussing the plan of campaign. Little +boys shouted, and old boys left their stores to come out and give a +bit of advice or encouragement to the waiting warriors. Maidens in +crisp lawn dresses and flying ribbons fluttered about in a tremor of +anticipation. + +Sandy Kilday, with his cap pulled over his eyes, went up Back street. +If he could not make the devil get behind him, he at least could get +behind the devil. Without a moment's hesitation he would have given +ten years of sober middle-age life for that one glorious day of youth +on the Lexington diamond, with the victory to be fought for, and the +grand stand to be won. + +He tried not to keep step with the music--he even tried to think of +quadratic equations--as he marched heroically on to the academy. His +was the face of a Christian martyr relinquishing life for a good but +hopeless cause. + +Late that afternoon Judge Hollis left his office and walked around to +the academy. He had sympathized fully with Sandy, and wanted, if +possible, to find out the result of the examination before going home. +The report of the scholarship won would reconcile him to his +disappointment. + +At the academy gate he met Mr. Moseley, who greeted him with a queer +smile. They both asked the same question: + +"Where's Sandy?" + +As if in answer, there came a mighty shout from the street leading +down to the depot. Turning, they saw a cheering, hilarious crowd; +bright-flowered hats flashed among college caps, while shrill girlish +voices rang out with the manly ones. Carried high in the air on the +shoulders of a dozen boys, radiant with praise and success, sat the +delinquent Sandy, and the tumult below resolved itself into one mighty +cheer: + + "Kilday, Kilday! + Won the day. + Hooray!" + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +"THE LIGHT THAT LIES" + + +During the summer Sandy worked faithfully to make amends for his +failure to win the scholarship. He had meekly accepted the torrent of +abuse which Mrs. Hollis poured forth, and the open disapproval shown +by the Meeches; he had winced under Martha's unspoken reproaches, and +groaned over the judge's quiet disappointment. + +"You see, my boy," the judge said one day when they were alone, "I had +set my heart on taking you into the office after next year. I had +counted on the scholarship to put you through your last year at the +academy." + +"It was the fool I was," cried Sandy, in deep contrition, "but if +ye'll trust me the one time more, may I die in me traces if I ever +stir out of them!" + +So sincere was his desire to make amends that he asked to read law +with the judge in the evenings after his work was done. Nothing could +have pleased the judge more; he sat with his back to the lamp and his +feet on the window-sill, expounding polemics to his heart's desire. + +Sandy sat in the shadow and whittled. Sometimes he did not listen at +all, but when he did, it was with an intensity of attention, an utter +absorption in the subject, that carried him straight to the heart of +the matter. Meanwhile he was unconsciously receiving a life-imprint of +the old judge's native nobility. + +From the first summer Sandy had held a good position at the +post-office. His first earnings had gone to a round little surgeon on +board the steamship _America_. But since then his funds had run rather +low. What he did not lend he contributed, and the result was a chronic +state of bankruptcy. + +"You must be careful with your earnings," the judge warned. "It is +not easy to live within an income." + +"Easier within it than without it, sir," Sandy answered from deep +experience. + +After the Lexington episode Sandy had shunned Martha somewhat; when he +did go to see her, he found she was sick in bed. + +"She never was strong," said Mrs. Meech, sitting limp and disconsolate +on the porch. "Mr. Meech and I never thought to keep her this long. +The doctor says it's the beginning of the end. She's so patient it's +enough to break your heart." + +Sandy went without his dinner that day, and tramped to town and back, +in the glare of the noon sun, to get her a basket of fruit. Then he +wrote her a letter so full of affection and sympathy that it brought +the tears to his own eyes as he wrote. He took the basket with the +note and left them at her door, after which he promptly forgot all +about her. For his whole purpose in life these days, aside from +assisting the government in the distribution of mail and reading a +musty old volume of Blackstone, was learning to dance. + +In ten days was the opening of the county fair, and Sandy had received +an invitation to be present at the fair hop, which was the social +excitement of the season. It was to be his introduction into society, +and he was determined to acquit himself with credit. + +He assiduously practised the two-step in the back room of the +post-office when the other clerk was out for lunch; he tried elaborate +and ornate bows upon Aunt Melvy, who considered even the mildest "reel +chune" a direct communication from the devil. The moment the +post-office closed he hastened to Dr. Fenton's, where Annette was +taking him through a course of private lessons. + +Dr. Fenton's house was situated immediately upon the street. Opening +the door, one passed into a small square hall where the Confederate +flag hung above a life-size portrait of General Lee. On every side +were old muskets and rusty swords, large pictures of decisive +battles, and maps of the siege of Vicksburg and the battle of Bull +Run. In the midst of this warlike atmosphere sat the unreconstructed +little doctor, wearing his gray uniform and his gray felt hat, which +he removed only when he ate and slept. + +Here he ostensibly held office hours, but in reality he was doing +sentry duty. His real business in life was keeping up with Annette, +and his diversion was in the constant perusal of a slim sheet known as +"The Confederate Veteran." + +It was Sandy's privilege to pass the lines unchallenged. In fact, the +doctor's strict surveillance diminished, and he was occasionally +guilty of napping at the post when Sandy was with Annette. + +"Come in, come in," he said one day. "Just looking over the 'Veteran.' +Ever hear of Sam Davis? Greatest hero South ever knew! That's his +picture. Wasn't afraid of any damned Yankee that ever pulled a +trigger." + +"Was he a rebel?" asked the unfortunate Sandy. + +The doctor swelled with indignation. "He was a Confederate, sir! I +never knew a rebel." + +"It was the Confederates that wore the gray?" asked Sandy, trying to +cover his blunder. + +"They did," said the doctor. "I put it on at nineteen, and I'll be +buried in it. Yes, sir; and my hat. Wouldn't wear blue for a farm. +Hate the sight of it so, that I might shoot myself by mistake. Ever +look over these maps? This was the battle of--" + +A door opened and a light head was thrust out. + +"Now, d-dad, you hush this minute! You've told him that over and over. +Sandy's my company. Come in here, Sandy." + +A few moments later there was a moving of chairs, and Annette's voice +was counting, "One, two, three; one, two, three," while Sandy went +through violent contortions in his efforts to waltz. He had his +tongue firmly between his teeth and his eyes fixed on vacancy as he +revolved in furniture--destroying circles about the small parlor. + +"That isn't right," cried Annette. "You've lost the time. You d-dance +with the chair, Sandy, and I'll p-play the p-piano." + +"No, you don't!" he cried. "I'll dance with you and put the chair at +the piano, but I'll dance with no chair." + +Annette sank, laughing and exhausted, upon the sofa and looked up at +him hopelessly. Her hair had tumbled down, making her look more like a +child than ever. + +"You are so b-big," she said; "and you've got so m-many feet!" + +"The more of me to love ye." + +"I wonder if you d-do?" She put her chin on her palms, looking at him +sidewise. + +"Don't ye do that again!" he cried. "Haven't I passed ye the warning +never to look at me when you fix your mouth like that?" + +She tried to call him a goose, though she knew that _g_'s were fatal. + +A moment later she sat at one end of the sofa in pretended dudgeon, +while Sandy tried to make his peace from the other. + +"May the lightning strike me dead if I ever do it again without the +asking! I'll be good now--honest to goodness, Nettie. I'll shut me +eyes when you take the hurdles, and be blind to temptation. Won't ye +be putting me on about the hop now, and what I must do?" + +Annette counted her fraternity pins and tried to look severe. She used +them in lieu of scalps, and they encircled her neck, fastened her +belt, and on state occasions even adorned her shoe-buckles. + +"Well," she at last said, "to b-begin with, you must be nice to +everyb-body. You mustn't sit out more than one d-dance with one +g-girl, and you must b-break in on every dance I'm not sitting out." + +"Break in? Sit out?" repeated Sandy, realizing that the intricacies +of society are manifold. + +"Of course," said his mentor. "Whenever you see the g-girl you like +dancing with any one else, you just p-put your hand on the man's +shoulder, and then she d-dances with you." + +"And will they all stop for me?" cried Sandy, not understanding at all +why he should have the preference. + +"Surely," said Annette. "And sitting out is when you like a girl so +m-much that you would rather take her away to some quiet little corner +and talk to her than to d-dance with her." + +"That'll never be me," cried Sandy--"not while the band plays." + +"Shall we try it again?" she asked; and with much scoffing and +scolding on her part, and eloquent apologies and violent exertion on +his, they struggled onward toward success. + +In the midst of the lesson there was a low whistle at the side +window. Annette dropped Sandy's hands and put her finger to her lips. + +"It's Carter," she whispered. "D-dad doesn't allow him to come here." + +"Little's the wonder," grumbled Sandy. + +Annette's eyes were sparkling at the prospect of forbidden fruit. She +tiptoed to the window and opened the shutter a few inches. + +At the opening Carter's face appeared. It was a pale, delicate face, +over-sensitive, over-refined, with the stamp of weakness on every +feature. His restless, nervous eyes were slightly bloodshot, and there +was a constant twitching about his lips. But as he pushed back the +shutter and leaned carelessly against the sill, there was an easy +grace in his figure and a devil-may-care light in his eyes that would +have stirred the heart of a maiden less susceptible than the one who +smiled upon him from between the muslin curtains. + +He laughed lightly as he caught at a flying lock of her hair. + +"You little coward! Why didn't you meet me?" + +She frowned significantly and made warning gestures toward the +interior of the room. + +At the far window, standing with his back to them, was Mr. Sandy +Kilday. He was engaged in a fierce encounter with an unnamed monster +whose eyes were green. During his pauses for breath he composed a few +comprehensive and scathing remarks which he intended to bestow upon +Miss Fenton at his earliest convenience. Fickleness was a thing not to +be tolerated. She had confessed her preference for him over all +others; she must and should prove it. Just when his indignation had +reached the exploding-point, he heard his name called. + +"Sandy," cried Annette, "what do you think? Ruth is coming home! +Carter is on his way to the d-depot to meet her now. She's been gone +nearly a year. I never was so crazy to see anyb-body in all my life." + +Sandy wheeled about. "Which depot?" he cried excitedly; and without +apologies or farewell he dashed out of the house and down the street. + +When the Pullman train came into the Clayton station, he was leaning +against a truck in a pose of studied indifference. Out of the tail of +his eye he watched the passengers alight. + +There were the usual fat women and thin men, tired women with +children, and old women with baskets, but no sign of a small girl with +curls hanging down her back and dresses to her shoe-tops. + +Suddenly he caught his breath. Standing in the car door, like a saint +in a niche, was a radiant figure in a blue traveling-suit, with a bit +of blue veil floating airily from her hat brim. She was not the little +girl he was looking for, but he transferred his devotion at a bound; +for long skirts and tucked-up curls rendered her tenfold more +worshipful than before. + +He watched her descend from her pedestal, bestow an affectionate kiss +upon her brother, then look eagerly around for other familiar faces. +In one heart-suspending instant her eyes met his, she hesitated in +confusion, then blushed and bowed. + +Sandy reeled home in utter intoxication of spirit. Even the town pump +wore a halo of glorified rosy mist. + +At the gate he met Mrs. Hollis returning from a funeral. With a sudden +descent from his ethereal mood he pounced upon her and, in spite of +violent protestations, danced her madly down the walk and deposited +her breathless upon the milk-bench. + +"He's getting worse all the time," she complained to Aunt Melvy, who +had watched the performance with great glee. + +"Yas,'m," said Aunt Melvy, with a fond look at his retreating figure. +"He's jus' like a' Irish potato: when he ain't powerful cold, he's +powerful hot." + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +ANTICIPATION + + +The day before the fair Sandy employed a substitute at the +post-office, in order to give the entire day to preparation for the +festivities to come. + +Early in the morning he went to town, where, after much consultation +and many changes of mind, he purchased a suit of clothes. Then he +rented the town dress-suit, to the chagrin of three other boys who had +each counted upon it for the coming hop. + +With the precious burden under his arm, Sandy hastened home. He spread +the two coats on the bed, placing a white shirt inside each, and a +necktie about each collar. Then he stood back and admired. + +"It's meself I can see in them both this minute!" he exclaimed with +delight. + +His shoes were polished until they were resplendent, but they lost +much of their glory during subsequent practising of steps before the +mirror. He even brushed and cleaned his old clothes, for he foresaw +the pain of laying aside the raiment of Solomon for dingy every-day +garments. + +Toward noon he went down-stairs to continue his zealous efforts in the +kitchen. This met with Aunt Melvy's instant disapproval. + +"For mercy sake, git out ob my way!" she cried, as she squeezed past +the ironing-board to get to the stove. "I'll press yer pants, ef +you'll jus' take yourself outen de kitchen. Be sure don't burn 'em? +Look a-heah, chile; I was pressin' pants 'fore yer paw was wearin' +'em!" + +Aunt Melvy's temper was a thing not to be trifled with when a +"protracted meeting" was in session. For years she had been the black +sheep in the spiritual fold. Her earnest desire to get religion and +the untiring efforts of the exhorters had alike proved futile. Year +after year she sat on the mourners' bench, seeking the light and +failing each time to "come th'u'." + +This discouraging condition of affairs sorely afflicted her, and +produced a kind of equinoctial agitation in the Hollis kitchen. + +Sandy went on into the dining-room, but he found no welcome there. +Mrs. Hollis was submerged in pastry. The county fair was her one +dissipation, and her highest ambition was to take premiums. Every year +she sent forth battalions of cakes, pies, sweet pickles, beaten +biscuit, crocheted doilies, and crazy-quilts to capture the blue +ribbon. + +"Don't put the window up!" she warned Sandy. "I know it's stifling, +but I can't have the dust coming in. Why don't you go on in the +house?" + +Mrs. Hollis always spoke of the kitchen and dining-room as if they +were not a part of the house. + +"Can't ye tell me something that's good for the sunburn?" asked +Sandy, anxiously. "It's a dressed-up shooting-cracker I'll be +resembling the morrow, in spite of me fine clothes." + +"Buttermilk and lemon-juice," recommended Mrs. Hollis, as she placed +the last marshmallow on the roof of a four-story cake. + +Sandy would have endured any discomfort that day in order to add one +charm to his personal appearance. He used so many lemons there were +none left for the judge's lemonade when he came home for dinner. + +"Just home from the post-office?" he asked when he saw Sandy enter the +dining-room with his hat on. + +"Jimmy Reed's doing my work to-day," Sandy said apologetically. "And +if you please, sir, I'll be keeping my hat on. I have just washed my +hair, and I want it to dry straight." + +The judge looked at the suspicious turn of the thick locks around the +brim of the stiff hat and smiled. + +"Vanitas vanitatum, et omnia vanitas," he quoted. "How many pages of +Blackstone to-day?" + +Sandy made a wry face and winked at Mrs. Hollis, but she betrayed him. + +"He has been primping since sun-up," she said. "Anybody would think he +was going to get married." + +"Sweet good luck if I was!" cried Sandy, gaily. + +The judge put down his fork and laid his hand on Sandy's arm. "You +mustn't neglect the learning, Sandy. You've made fine progress, and +I'm proud of you. You've worked your way this far; I'll help you to +the top if you'll keep a steady head." + +"That I'll do," cried Sandy, grasping his hand. "It's old Moseley's +promise I have for steady work at the academy. If I can't climb the +ladder, with you at one end and success at the other, then I'm not +much of a chicken--I mean I'm not much." + +"Well, you better begin by leaving the girls alone," said Mrs. Hollis +as she moved the sugar out of his reach. "Just let one drive by the +gate, and we don't have any peace until you know who it is." + +"By the way," said the judge, as he helped himself to a corn-dodger +and two kinds of preserves, "I'm sorry to see the friendship that's +sprung up between Annette Fenton and young Nelson. I don't know what +the doctor's thinking about to let it go on. Nelson is hitting a +pretty lively pace for a youngster. He'll never live to reap his wild +oats, though. He came into the world with consumption, and I don't +think he will be long getting out of it. He's always getting into +difficulty. I have had to fine him twice in the past month for +gambling. Do you see anything of him, Sandy?" + +"No," said Sandy, biting his lip. His pride had suffered more than +once at Carter's condescension. + +"Martha Meech must be worse," said Mrs. Hollis. "The up-stairs blinds +have been closed all day." + +Sandy pushed back the apple-dumpling which Aunt Melvy had made at his +special request. + +"Perhaps I can be helping them," he said as he rose from the table. + +When he came back he sat for a long time with his head on his hand. + +"Is she much worse?" asked Mrs. Hollis. + +"Yes," said Sandy; "and it's little that I can do, though she's +coughing her life away. It's a shame--and a shame!" he cried in hot +rebellion. + +All his vanity of the morning was dispelled by the tragedy taking +place next door. He paced back and forth between the two houses, +begging to be allowed to help, and proposing all sorts of impossible +things. + +When inaction became intolerable, he plunged into his law books, at +first not comprehending a line, but gradually becoming more and more +interested, until at last the whole universe seemed to revolve about a +case that was decided in a previous century. + +When he rose it was almost dusk, and he came back to the present +world with a start. His first thought was of Ruth and the rapturous +prospect of seeing her on the morrow; a swift doubt followed as to +whether a white tie or a black one was proper; then a sudden fear that +he had forgotten how to dance. He jumped to his feet, took a couple of +steps--when he remembered Martha. + +The house seemed suddenly quiet and lonesome. He went from the +sitting-room to the kitchen, but neither Mrs. Hollis nor Aunt Melvy +was to be found. Returning through the front hall, he opened the door +to the parlor. + +The sight that met him was somewhat gruesome. Everything was carefully +wrapped in newspapers. Pictures enveloped in newspapers hung on the +walls, newspaper chairs stood primly around a newspaper table. In the +dim twilight it looked like the very ghost of a room. + +Sandy threw open the window, and going over to the newspaper piano, +untied the wrappings. He softly touched the keys and began to sing in +an undertone. Old Irish love-songs, asleep in his heart since they +were first dropped there by the merry mother lips, stirred and awoke. +The accompaniment limped along lamely enough; but the singer, with hat +over his eyes and lemon-juice on his nose, sang on as only a poet and +lover can. His rich, full voice lingered on the soft Celtic syllables, +dwelt tenderly on the diminutive endearments, while his heart, +overcharged with sorrow and joy and romance and dreams, spilled over +in an ecstasy of song. + +Next door, in an upper bedroom, a tired soul paused in its final +flight. Martha Meech, stretching forth her thin arms in the twilight, +listened as one might listen to the strains of an angel choir. + +"It's Sandy," she said, and the color came to her cheeks, the light to +her eyes. For, like Sandy, she had youth and she had love, and life +itself could give no more. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +THE COUNTY FAIR + + +The big amphitheater at the fair grounds was filled as completely and +evenly as a new paper of pins. Through the air floated that sweetest +of all music to the childish ear--the unceasing wail of expiring +balloons; and childish souls were held together in one sticky ecstasy +of molasses candy and pop-corn balls. + +Behind the highest row of seats was a promenade, and in front of the +lowest was another. Around these circled a procession which, though +constantly varying, held certain recurring figures like the charging +steeds on a merry-go-round. There was Dr. Fenton, in his tight +Confederate suit; he had been circling in that same procession at +every fair for twenty years. There was the judge, lank of limb and +loose of joint, who stopped to shake hands with all the strangers and +invite them to take dinner in his booth, where Mrs. Hollis reveled in +a riot of pastry. A little behind him strutted Mr. Moseley, sending +search-lights of scrutiny over the crowd in order to discover the +academy boys who might be wasting their time upon unlettered +femininity. + +At one side of the amphitheater, raised to a place of honor, was the +courting-box. Here the aristocratic youth of the country-side met to +measure hearts, laugh at the rustics, and enjoy the races. + +In previous years Sandy had watched the courting-box from below, but +this year he was in the center of it. Jests and greetings from the +boys, and cordial glances from maidens both known and unknown, bade +him welcome. But, in spite of his reception, and in spite of his +irreproachable toilet, he was not having a good time. With hands in +pockets and a scowl on his face, he stared gloomily over the crowd. +Twice a kernel of pop-corn struck his ear, but he did not turn. + +Above him, Annette Fenton was fathoms deep in a flirtation with Carter +Nelson; while below him, Ruth, in the daintiest of gowns and the +largest of hats, was wasting her sweetness on the desert countenance +of Sid Gray. + +Sandy refused to seek consolation elsewhere; he sat like a Spartan +hero, and calmly watched his heart being consumed in the flames. + +This hour, for which he had been living, this longed-for opportunity +of being near Ruth and possibly of speaking to her, was slipping away, +and she did not even know he was there. + +He became fiercely critical of Sid Gray. He rejoiced in his stoutness +and took grim pleasure in the fact that his necktie had slipped up at +the back. He looked at his hand as it rested on the back of the seat; +it was plump and white. Sandy held out his own broad, muscular palm, +hardened and roughened by work. Then he put it in his pocket again and +sighed. + +The afternoon wore gaily on. Louder grew the chorus of balloons and +stickier grew the pop-corn balls. The courting-box was humming with +laughter and jest. The Spartan hero began to rebel. Why should he +allow himself to be tortured thus when there might be a way of escape? +He recklessly resolved to put his fate to the test. Rising abruptly, +he went down to the promenade and passed slowly along the +courting-box, scanning the occupants as if in search of some one. It +was on his fourth round that she saw him, and the electric shock +almost lost him his opportunity. He looked twice to make sure she had +spoken; then, with a bit of his heart in his throat and the rest in +his eyes, he went up the steps and awkwardly held out his hand. + +The world made several convulsive circuits in its orbit and the bass +drum performed a solo inside his head during the moment that +followed. When the tumult subsided he found a pair of bright brown +eyes smiling up at him and a small hand clasped in his. + +This idyllic condition was interrupted by a disturbance on the +promenade, which caused them both to look in that direction. Some one +was pushing roughly through the crowd. + +"Hi, there, Kilday! Sandy Kilday!" + +A heavy-set fellow was making his way noisily toward them. His suit of +broad checks, his tan shoes, and his large diamond stud were +strangers, but his little close-set eyes, protruding teeth, and bushy +hair were hatefully familiar. + +Sandy started forward, and those nearest laughed when the stranger +looked at him and said: + +"My guns! Git on to his togs! Ain't he a duke!" + +Sandy got Ricks out of the firing-line, around the corner of the +courting-box. His face was crimson with mortification, but it never +occurred to him to be angry. + +"What brought you back?" he asked huskily. + +"Hosses." + +"Are you going to drive this afternoon?" + +"Yep. One of young Nelson's colts in the last ring. Say," he added, +"he's game, all right. Me and him have done biz before. Know him?" + +"Carter Nelson? Oh, yes; I know him," said Sandy, impatient to be rid +of his companion. + +"Me and him are a winnin' couple," said Ricks. "We plays the races +straight along. He puts up the dough, and I puts up the tips. Say, +he's one of these here tony toughs; he won't let on he knows me when +he's puttin' on dog. What about you, Sandy? Makin' good these days?" + +"I guess so," said Sandy, indifferently. + +"You ain't goin' to school yet?" + +"That I am," said Sandy; "and next year, too, if the money holds out." + +"Golly gosh!" said Ricks, incredulously. "Well, I got to be hikin' +back. The next is my entry. I'll look you up after while. So-long!" + +He shambled off, and Sandy watched his broad-checked back until it was +lost in the crowd. + +That Ricks should have turned up at that critical moment seemed a +wilful prank on the part of fate. Sandy bit his lip and raged +inwardly. He had a wild impulse to rush back to Ruth, seize her hand, +and begin where he had left off. He might have done it, too, had not +the promenade happened to land Dr. Fenton before him at that moment. + +The doctor was behaving in a most extraordinary and unmilitary way. He +had stepped out of the ranks, and was performing strange manoeuvers +about a knothole that looked into the courting-box. When he saw Sandy +he opened fire. + +"Look at her! Look at her!" he whispered. "Whenever I pass she talks +to Jimmy Reed on this side; but the moment she thinks I'm not looking, +sir, she talks to Nelson on the other! Kilday," he went on, shaking +his finger impressively, "that little girl is as slick as--a blame +Yankee! But she'll not outwit me. I'm going right up there and take +her home." + +Sandy laughingly held his arm. It was not the first time the doctor +had confided in him. "No, no, doctor," he said; "I'll be the watch-dog +for ye. Let me go and stay with Annette, and if Carter Nelson gets a +word in her ear, it'll be because I've forgotten how to talk." + +"Will you?" asked the doctor, anxiously. "Nelson's a drunkard. I'd +rather see my little girl dead than married to him. But she's wilful, +Kilday; when she was just a baby she'd sit with her little pink toes +curled up for an hour to keep me from putting on her shoes when she +wanted to go barefoot! She's a fighter," he added, with a gruff +chuckle that ended in a sigh, "but she's all I've got." + +Sandy gripped him by the hand, then turned the corner into the +courting-box. Instantly his eager eyes sought Ruth, but she did not +look up as he passed. + +He unceremoniously took his seat beside Annette, to the indignation of +little Jimmy Reed. It was hard to accept Carter's patronizing +tolerance, but a certain curve to his eyebrows and the turn of his +head served as perpetual reminders of Ruth. + +Annette greeted Sandy effusively. She had found Jimmy entirely too +limber a foil to use with any degree of skill, and she knew from past +experience that Sandy and Carter were much better matched. If Sid Gray +had been there also, she would have been quite happy. In Annette's +estimation it was all a mistake about love being a game for two. + +"Who was your stylish friend?" she asked Sandy. + +"Ricks Wilson," said Sandy, shortly. + +Carter smiled condescendingly. "Your old business partner, I believe?" + +"Before he was yours," said Sandy. + +This was not at all to Annette's taste. They were not even thinking +about her. + +"How m-many dances do you want for to-night?" she asked Sandy. + +"The first four." + +She wrote them on the corner of her fan. "Yes?" + +"The last four." + +"Yes?" + +"And the four in between. What's that on your fan?" + +"Nothing." + +"But it is. Let me see." + +"Will you look at it easy and not tell?" she whispered, taking +advantage of Carter's sudden interest in the judges' stand. + +"Sure and I will. Just a peep. Come!" + +She opened the fan half-way, and disclosed a tiny picture of himself +sewed on one of the slats. + +"And it's meself that you care for, Annette!" he whispered. "I knew +it, you rascal, you rogue!" + +"Let g-go my hand," she whispered, half laughing, half scolding. +"Look, Carter, what I have on my fan!" and, to Sandy's chagrin, she +opened the fan on the reverse side and disclosed a picture of Nelson. + +But Carter had neither eyes nor ears for her now. His whole attention +was centered on the ring, where the most important event of the day +was about to take place. + +It was a trial of two-year-olds for speed and durability. There were +four entries--two bays, a sorrel, and Carter's own little thoroughbred +"Nettie." He watched her as she pranced around the ring under Ricks's +skilful handling; she had nothing to fear from the bays, but the +sorrel was a close competitor. + +"Oh, this is your race, isn't it?" cried Annette as the band struck up +"Dixie." "Where's my namesake? The pretty one just c-coming, with the +ugly driver? Why, he's Sandy's friend, isn't he?" + +Sandy winced under her teasing, but he held his peace. + +The first heat Nettie won; the second, the sorrel; the third brought +the grand stand to its feet. Even the revolving procession halted +breathless. + +"Now they're off!" cried Annette, excitedly. "Mercy, how they g-go! +Nettie is a little ahead; look, Sandy! She's gaining! No; the sorrel's +ahead. Carter, your driver is g-going too close! He's g-going to smash +in--Oh, look!" + +There was a crash of wheels and a great commotion. Several women +screamed, and a number of men rushed into the ring. When Sandy got +there, the greater crowd was not around the sorrel's driver, who lay +in a heap against the railing with a broken leg and a bruised head; it +was around Ricks Wilson in angry protest and indignation. + +The most vehement of them all was Judge Hollis,--the big, easy-going +judge,--whose passion, once roused, was a thing to be reckoned with. + +"It was a dastardly piece of cowardice," he cried. "You all saw what +he did! Call the sheriff, there! I intend to prosecute him to the full +extent of the law." + +Ricks, with snapping eyes and snarling mouth, glanced anxiously +around at the angry faces. He was looking for Carter Nelson, but +Carter had discreetly departed. It was Sandy whom he spied, and +instantly called: "Kilday, you'll see me through this mess? You know +it wasn't none of my fault." + +Sandy pushed his way to the judge's side. He had never hated the sight +of Ricks so much as at that moment. + +"It's Ricks Wilson," he whispered to the judge--"the boy I used to +peddle with. Don't be sending him to jail, sir. I'll--I'll go his bail +if you'll be letting him go." + +"Indeed you won't!" thundered the judge. "You to take money you've +saved for your education to help this scoundrel, this rascal, this +half murderer!" + +The crowd shouted its approval as it opened for the sheriff. Ricks was +not the kind to make it easy for his captors, and a lively skirmish +ensued. + +As he was led away he turned to the crowd back of him and shook his +fist in the judge's face. + +"You done this," he cried. "I'll git even with you, if I go to hell +fer it!" + +The judge laughed contemptuously, but Sandy watched Ricks depart with +troubled eyes. He knew that he meant what he said. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +A COUNCIL OF WAR + + +While the frivolous-minded of Clayton were bent upon the festivities +of fair week, it must not be imagined that the grave and thoughtful +contingent, which acts as ballast in every community, was idle. + +Mr. Moseley was a self-constituted leader in a crusade against +dancing. At his earnest suggestion, every minister in town agreed to +preach upon the subject at prayer-meeting the Wednesday evening of the +hop. + +They held a preliminary meeting before services in the study of the +Hard-Shell Baptist Church. Mr. Moseley occupied the chair, a Jove of +righteousness dispensing thunderbolts of indignation to his +satellites. A fringe of scant hair retreated respectfully from the +unadorned dome which crowned his personal edifice. His manner was most +serious and his every utterance freighted with importance. + +Beside him sat his rival in municipal authority, the Methodist +preacher. He had a short upper lip and a square lower jaw, and a way +of glaring out of his convex glasses that gave a comical imitation of +a bullfrog in debate. This was the first occasion in the history of +the town when he and Mr. Moseley had met in friendly concord. For the +last few days the united war upon a common enemy had knitted their +souls in a bond of brotherly affection. + +When the half-dozen preachers had assembled, Mr. Moseley rose with +dignity. "My dear brethren," he began impressively, "the occasion is +one which permits of no trifling. The dancing evil is one which has +menaced our community for generations--a viper to be seized and +throttled with a firm hand. The waltz, the--the Highland fling, +the--the--" + +"German?" suggested some one faintly. + +"Yes, the german--are all invasions of the Evil One. The crowded +rooms, the unholy excitement, are degenerating and debasing. I am glad +to report one young soul who has turned from temptation and told me +only to-day of his intention of refraining from partaking in the +unrighteous amusement of this evening. That, brethren, was the nephew +of my pastor." + +The little Presbyterian preacher, thus thrust into the light cast from +the halo of his regenerate nephew, stirred uneasily. He was +contemplating the expediency of his youthful kinsman in making the +lack of a dress-suit serve as a means of lightening his coming +examinations at the academy. + +Mr. Moseley, now fully launched upon a flood of eloquence, was just +concluding a brilliant argument. "Look at the round dance!" he cried. +"Who can behold and not shudder?" + +Mr. Meech, who had not beheld and therefore could not shudder, +ventured a timid inquiry: + +"Mr. Moseley, just what is a round dance?" + +Mr. Moseley pushed back his chair and wheeled the table nearer the +window. "Will you just step forward, Mr. Meech?" + +With difficulty Mr. Meech extricated himself from the corner to which +the pressure of so many guests had relegated him. He slipped +apologetically to the front and took his stand beneath the shadow of +Mr. Moseley's presence. Prayer-meeting being but a semi-official +occasion, he wore his second-best coat, and it had followed the +shrinking habit established by its predecessors. + +"Now," commanded Mr. Moseley, "place your hand upon my shoulder." + +Mr. Meech did so with self-conscious gravity and serious apprehensions +as to the revelations to follow. + +"Now," continued Mr. Moseley, "I place my arm about your waist--thus." + +"Surely not," objected Mr. Meech, in embarrassment. + +But Mr. Moseley was relentless. "I assure you it is true. And the +other hand--" He stopped in grave deliberation. The Methodist brother, +who had been growing more and more overcharged with suppressed +knowledge, could contain himself no longer. + +"That's not right at all!" he burst forth irritably. "You don't hook +your arm around like that! You hold the left arm out and saw it up and +down--like this." + +He snatched the bewildered Mr. Meech from Mr. Moseley's embrace, and +humming a waltz, stepped briskly about the limited space, to the +consternation of the onlookers, who hastened to tuck their feet under +their chairs. + +Mr. Meech, looking as if he were being backed into eternity, stumbled +on the rug and clutched violently at the table-cover. In his downfall +he carried his instructor with him, and a deluge of tracts from the +table above followed. + +In the midst of the confusion there was a sound from the church next +door. Mr. Meech sat up among the debris and listened. It was the +opening hymn for prayer-meeting. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +HELL AND HEAVEN + + +The events of the afternoon, stirring as they had been, were soon +dismissed from Sandy's mind. The approaching hop possessed right of +way over every other thought. + +By the combined assistance of Mrs. Hollis and Aunt Melvy, he had been +ready at half-past seven. The dance did not begin until nine; but he +was to take Annette, and the doctor, whose habits were as fixed as the +numbers on a clock, had insisted that she should attend prayer-meeting +as usual before the dance. + +In the little Hard-Shell Baptist Church the congregation had assembled +and services had begun before Mr. Meech arrived. He appeared +singularly flushed and breathless, and caused some confusion by +giving out the hymn which had just been sung. It was not until he +became stirred by the power of his theme that he gained composure. + +In the front seat Dr. Fenton drowsed through the discourse. Next to +him, her party dress and slipper-bag concealed by a rain-coat, sat +Annette, hot and rebellious, and in anything but a prayerful frame of +mind. Beside her sat Sandy, rigid with elegance, his eyes riveted on +the preacher, but his thoughts on his feet. For, stationary though he +was, he was really giving himself the benefit of a final rehearsal, +and mentally performing steps of intricate and marvelous variety. + +"Stop moving your feet!" whispered Annette. "You'll step on my dress." + +"Is it the mazurka that's got the hiccoughs in the middle?" asked +Sandy, anxiously. + +Mr. Meech paused and looked at them over his spectacles in plaintive +reproach. + +Then he wandered on into sixthlies and seventhlies of increasing +length. Before the final amen had died upon the air, Annette and Sandy +had escaped to their reward. + +The hop was given in the town hall, a large, dreary-looking room with +a raised platform at one end, where Johnson's band introduced +instruments and notes that had never met before. + +To Sandy it was a hall of Olympus, where filmy-robed goddesses moved +to the music of the spheres. + +"Isn't the floor g-grand?" cried Annette, with a little run and a +slide. "I could just d-die dancing." + +"What may the chalk line be for?" asked Sandy. + +"That's to keep the stags b-back." + +"The stags?" His spirits fell before this new complication. + +"Yes; the boys without partners, you know. They have to stay b-back of +the chalk line and b-break in from there. You'll catch on right away. +There's your d-dressing-room over there. Don't bother about my card; +it's been filled a week. Is there anyb-body you want to dance with +especially?" + +Sandy's eyes answered for him. They were held by a vision in the +center of the room, and he was blinded to everything else. + +Half surrounded by a little group stood Ruth Nelson, red-lipped, +bright-eyed, eager, her slender white-clad figure on tiptoe with +buoyant expectancy. The crimson rose caught in her hair kept impatient +time to the tap of her restless high-heeled slipper, and she swayed +and sang with the music in a way to set the sea-waves dancing. + +It was small matter to Sandy that the lace on her dress had belonged +to her great-grandmother, or that the pearls about her round white +throat had been worn by an ancestor who was lady in waiting to a queen +of France. He only knew she meant everything beautiful in the world to +him,--music and springtime and dawn,--and that when she smiled it was +sunlight in his heart. + +"I don't think you can g-get a dance there," said Annette, following +his gaze. "She is always engaged ahead. But I'll find out, if you +w-want me to." + +"Would you, now?" cried Sandy, fervently pressing her hand. Then he +stopped short. "Annette," he said wistfully, "do you think she'll be +caring to dance with a boy like me?" + +"Of course she will, if you k-keep off her toes and don't forget to +count the time. Hurry and g-get off your things; I want you to try it +before the crowd comes. There are only a few couples for you to bump +into now, and there will be a hundred after a while." + +O the fine rapture of that first moment when Sandy found he could +dance! Annette knocked away his remaining doubts and fears and boldly +launched him into the merry whirl. The first rush was breathless, +carrying all before it; but after a moment's awful uncertainty he +settled into the step and glided away over the shining floor, +counting his knots to be sure, but sailing triumphantly forward +behind the flutter of Annette's pink ribbons. + +He was introduced right and left, and he asked every girl he met to +dance. It made little difference who she happened to be, for in +imagination she was always the same. Annette had secured for him the +last dance with Ruth, and he intended to practise every moment until +that magic hour should arrive. + +But youth reckons not with circumstance. Just when all sails were set +and he was nearing perfection, he met with a disaster which promptly +relegated him to the dry-dock. His partner did not dance! + +When he looked at her, he found that she was tall and thin and +vivacious, and he felt that she must have been going to hops for a +very long time. + +"I hate dancing, don't you?" she said. "Let's go over there, out of +the crowd, and have a nice long talk." + +Sandy glanced at the place indicated. It seemed a long way from base. + +"Wouldn't you like to stand here and watch them?" he floundered +helplessly. + +"Oh, dear, no; it's too crowded. Besides," she added playfully, "I +have heard _so_ much about you and your awfully romantic life. I just +want to know all about it." + +As a trout, one moment in mid-stream swimming and frolicking with the +best, finds himself suddenly snatched out upon the bank, gasping and +helpless, so Sandy found himself high and dry against the wall, with +the insistent voice of his captor droning in his ears. + +She had evidently been wound and set, and Sandy had unwittingly +started the pendulum. + +"Have you ever been to Chicago, Mr. Kilday? No? It is such a dear +place; I simply adore it. I'm on my way home from there now. All my +men friends begged me to stay; they sent me so many flowers I had to +keep them in the bath-tub. Wasn't it darling of them? I just love +men. How long have you been in Clayton, Mr. Kilday?" + +He tried to answer coherently, but his thoughts were in eager pursuit +of a red rose that flashed in and out among the dancers. + +"And you really came over from England by yourself when you were just +a small boy? Weren't you clever! But I know the captain and all of +them made a great pet of you. Then you made a walking tour through the +States; I heard all about it. It was just too romantic for any use. I +love adventure. My two best friends are at the theological seminary. +One's going to India,--he's a blond,--and one to Africa. Just between +us, I am going with one of them, but I can't for the life of me make +up my mind which. I don't know why I am telling you all these things, +Mr. Kilday, except that you are so sweet and sympathetic. You +understand, don't you?" + +He assured her that he did with more vehemence than was necessary, for +he did not want her to suspect that he had not heard what she said. + +"I knew you did. I knew it the moment I shook hands with you. I felt +that we were drawn to each other. I am like you; I am just full of +magnetism." + +Sandy unconsciously moved slightly away: he had a sudden uncomfortable +realization that he was the only one within the sphere of influence. + +After two intermissions he suggested that they go out to the +drug-store and get some soda-water. On the steps they met Annette. + +"You old f-fraud," she whispered to Sandy in passing, "I thought you +didn't like to sit out d-dances." + +He smiled feebly. + +"Don't you mind her teasing," pouted his partner; "if we like to talk +better than to dance, it's our own affair." + +Sandy wished devoutly that it was somebody else's. When they returned, +they went back to their old corner. The chairs, evidently considering +them permanent occupants, assumed an air of familiarity which he +resented. + +"Do you know, you remind me of an old sweetheart of mine," resumed the +voice of his captor, coyly. "He was the first real lover I ever had. +His eyes were big and pensive, just like yours, and there was always +that same look in his face that just made me want to stay with him all +the time to keep him from being lonely. He was awfully fond of me, but +he had to go out West to make his fortune, and he married before he +got back." + +Sandy sighed, ostensibly in sympathy, but in reality at his own sad +fate. At that moment Prometheus himself would not have envied him his +state of mind. The music set his nerves tingling and the dancers +beckoned him on, yet he was bound to his chair, with no relief in +view. At the tenth intermission he suggested soda-water again, after +which they returned to their seats. + +"I hope people aren't talking about us," she said, with a pleased +laugh. "I oughtn't to have given you all these dances. It's perfectly +fatal for a girl to show such preference for one man. But we are so +congenial, and you do remind me--" + +"If it's embarrassing to you--" began Sandy, grasping the straw with +both hands. + +"Not one bit," she asserted. "If you would rather have a good +confidential time here with me than to meet a lot of silly little +girls, then I don't care what people say. But, as I was telling you, I +met him the year I came out, and he was interested in me right off--" + +On and on and on she went, and Sandy ceased to struggle. He sank in +his chair in dogged dejection. He felt that she had been talking ever +since he was born, and was going to continue until he died, and that +all he could do was to wait in anguish for the end. He watched the +flushed, happy faces whirling by. How he envied the boys their wilted +collars! After eons and eons of time the band played "Home, Sweet +Home." + +"It's the last dance," said she. "Aren't you sorry? We've had a +perfectly divine time--" She got no further, for her partner, faithful +through many numbers, had deserted his post at last. + +Sandy pushed eagerly through the crowd and presented himself at Ruth's +side. She was sitting with several boys on the stage steps, her cheeks +flushed from the dance, and a loosened curl falling across her bare +shoulder. He tried to claim his dance, but the words, too long +confined, rushed to his lips so madly as to form a blockade. + +She looked up and saw him--saw the longing and doubt in his eyes, and +came to his rescue. + +"Isn't this our dance, Mr. Kilday?" she said, half smiling, half +timidly. + +In the excitement of the moment he forgot his carefully practised bow, +and the omission brought such chagrin that he started out with the +wrong foot. There was a gentle, ripping sound, and a quarter of a yard +of lace trailed from the hem of his partner's skirt. + +"Did I put me foot in it?" cried Sandy, in such burning consternation +that Ruth laughed. + +"It doesn't matter a bit," she said lightly, as she stooped to pin it +up. "It shows I've had a good time. Come! Don't let's miss the music." + +He took her hand, and they stepped out on the polished floor. The +blissful agony of those first few moments was intolerably sweet. + +She was actually dancing with him (one, two, three; one, two, three). +Her soft hair was close to his cheek (one, two, three; one, two, +three). What if he should miss a step (one, two, three)--or fall? + +He stole a glance at her; she smiled reassuringly. Then he forgot all +about the steps and counting time. He felt as he had that morning on +shipboard when the _America_ passed the _Great Britain_. All the joy +of boyhood resurged through his veins, and he danced in a wild +abandonment of bliss; for the band was playing "Home, Sweet Home," +and to Sandy it meant that, come what might, within her shining eyes +his gipsy soul had found its final home. + +[Illustration: "Then he forgot all about the steps and counting time"] + +When the music stopped, and they stood, breathless and laughing, at +the dressing-room door, Ruth said: + +"I thought Annette told me you were just learning to dance!" + +"So I am," said Sandy; "but me heart never kept time for me before!" + +When Annette joined them she looked up at Sandy and smiled. + +"Poor f-fellow!" she said sympathetically. "What a perfectly horrid +time you've had!" + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +THE NELSON HOME + +Willowvale, the Nelson homestead, lay in the last curve of the river, +just before it left the restrictions of town for the freedom of fields +and meadows. + +It was a quaint old house, all over honeysuckles and bow-windows and +verandas, approached by an oleander-bordered walk, and sheltered by a +wide circle of poplar-and oak-trees that had nodded both approval and +disapproval over many generations of Nelsons. + +In the dining-room, on the massive mahogany table, lunch was laid for +three. Carter sat at the foot, absorbed in a newspaper, while at the +head Mrs. Nelson languidly partook of her second biscuit. It was +vulgar, in her estimation, for a lady to indulge in more than two +biscuits at a meal. + +When old Evan Nelson died six years before, he had left the bulk of +his fortune to his two grandchildren, and a handsome allowance to his +eldest son's widow, with the understanding that she was to take charge +of Ruth until that young lady should become of age. + +Mrs. Nelson accepted the trust with becoming resignation. The prospect +of guiding a wealthy and obedient young person through the social +labyrinth to an eligible marriage wakened certain faculties that had +long lain dormant. It was not until the wealthy and obedient young +person began to develop tastes of her own that she found the burden +irksome. + +Nine months of the year Ruth was at boarding-school, and the remaining +three she insisted upon spending in the old home at Clayton, where +Carter kept his dogs and horses and spent his summers. Hitherto Mrs. +Nelson had compromised with her. By adroit management she contrived +to keep her, for weeks at a time, at various summer resorts, where she +expected her to serve a sort of social apprenticeship which would fit +her for her future career. + +At nineteen Ruth developed alarming symptoms of obstinacy. Mrs. Nelson +confessed tearfully to the rest of the family that it had existed in +embryo for years. Instead of making the most of her first summer out +of school, the foolish girl announced her intention of going to +Willowvale for an indefinite stay. + +It was indignation at this state of affairs that caused Mrs. Nelson to +lose her appetite. Clayton was to her the limit of civilization; there +was too much sunshine, too much fresh air, too much out of doors. She +disliked nature in its crude state; she preferred it softened and +toned down to drawing-room pitch. + +She glanced up in disapproval as Ruth's laugh sounded in the hall. + +"Rachel, tell her that lunch is waiting," she said to the colored +girl at her side. + +Carter looked up as Ruth came breezily into the room. She wore her +riding-habit, and her hair was tossed by her brisk morning canter. + +"You don't look as if you had danced all night," he said. "Did the +mare behave herself?" + +"She's a perfect beauty, Carter. I rode her round the old mill-dam, +'cross the ford, and back by the Hollises'. Now I'm perfectly +famished. Some hot rolls, Rachel, and another croquette, and--and +everything you have." + +Mrs. Nelson picked several crumbs from the cloth and laid them +carefully on her plate. "When I was a young lady I always slept after +being out in the evening. I had a half-cup of coffee and one roll +brought to me in bed, and I never rose until noon." + +"But I hate to stay in bed," said Ruth; "and, besides, I hate to miss +a half-day." + +"Is there anything on for this afternoon?" asked Carter. + +"Why, yes--" Ruth began, but her aunt finished for her: + +"Now, Carter, it's too warm to be proposing anything more. You aren't +well, and Ruth ought to stay at home and put cold cream on her face. +It is getting so burned that her pink evening-dresses will be worse +than useless. Besides, there is absolutely nothing to do in this +stupid place. I feel as if I couldn't stand it all summer." + +This being a familiar opening to a disagreeable subject, the two young +people lapsed into silence, and Mrs. Nelson was constrained to address +her communications to the tea-pot. She glanced about the big, +old-fashioned room and sighed. + +"It's nothing short of criminal to keep all this old mahogany buried +here in the country, and the cut-glass and silver. And to think that +the house cannot be sold for two more years! Not until Ruth is of age! +What _do_ you suppose your dear grandfather _could_ have been +thinking of?" + +This question, eliciting no reply from the tea-pot, remained suspended +in the air until it attracted Ruth's wandering attention. + +"I beg your pardon, aunt. What grandfather was thinking of? About the +place? Why, I guess he hoped that Carter and I would keep it." + +Carter looked over his paper. "Keep this old cemetery? Not I! The day +it is sold I start for Europe. If one lung is gone and the other +going, I intend to enjoy myself while it goes." + +"Carter!" begged Ruth, appealingly. + +He laughed. "You ought to be glad to get rid of me, Ruth. You've +bothered your head about me ever since you were born." + +She slipped her hand into his as it lay on the table, and looked at +him wistfully. + +"The idea of the old governor thinking we'd want to stay here!" he +said, with a curl of the lip. + +"Perfectly ridiculous!" echoed Mrs. Nelson. + +"I don't know," said Ruth; "it's more like home than any place else. I +don't think I could ever bear to sell it." + +"Now, my dear Ruth," said Mrs. Nelson, in genuine alarm, "don't be +sentimental, I beg of you. When once you make your début, you'll feel +very different about things. Of course the place must be sold: it +can't be rented, and I'm sure you will never get me to spend another +summer in Clayton. You could not stay here alone." + +Ruth sat with her chin in her hands and gazed absently out of the +window. She remembered when that yard was to her as the garden of +Eden. As a child she had been brought here, a delicate, faded little +hot-house plant, and for three wonderful years had been allowed to +grow and blossom at will in the freedom of outdoor life. The glamour +of those old days still clung to the place, and made her love +everything connected with it. The front gate, with its wide white +posts, still held the records of her growth, for each year her +grandfather had stood her against it and marked her progress. The huge +green tub holding the crape myrtle was once a park where she and +Annette had played dolls, and once it had served as a burying-ground +when Carter's sling brought down a sparrow. The ice house, with its +steep roof, recalled a thrilling tobogganing experience when she was +six. Grandfather had laughed over the torn gown, and bade her do it +again. + +It was the trees, though, that she loved best of all; for they were +friendly old poplar-trees on which the bark formed itself into all +sorts of curious eyes. One was a wicked old stepfather eye with a +heavy lid; she remembered how she used to tiptoe past it and pretend +to be afraid. Beyond, by the arbor, were two smaller trees, where a +coquettish eye on one looked up to an adoring eye on the other. She +had often built a romance about them as she watched them peeping at +each other through the leaves. + +Down behind the house the waving fields of blue-grass rippled away to +the little river, where weeping willows hung their heads above the +lazy water, and ferns reached up the banks to catch the flowers. And +the fields and the river and the house and the trees were hers,--hers +and Carter's,--and neither could sell without the consent of the +other. She took a deep breath of satisfaction. The prospect of living +alone in the old homestead failed to appal her. + +"A letter came this morning," said Mrs. Nelson, tracing the crest on +the silver creamer. "It's from your Aunt Elizabeth. She wants us to +spend ten days with her at the shore. They have taken a handsome +cottage next to the Warrentons. You remember young Mr. Warrenton, +Ruth? He is a grandson of Commodore Warrenton." + +"Warrenton? Oh, yes, I do remember him--the one that didn't have any +neck." + +Mrs. Nelson closed her eyes for a moment, as if praying for patience; +then she went on: "Your Aunt Elizabeth thinks, as I do, that it is +absurd for you to bury yourself down here. She wants you to meet +people of your own class. Do you think you can be ready to start on +Wednesday?" + +"Why, we have been here only a week!" cried Ruth. "I am having such a +good time, and--" she broke off impulsively. "But I know it's dull for +you, Aunt Clara. You go, and leave me here with Carter. I'll do +everything you say if you will only let me stay." + +Carter laughed. "One would think that Ruth's sole aim in life was to +cultivate Clayton--the distinguished, exclusive, aristocratic society +of Clayton." + +She put her hand on his arm and looked at him pleadingly: "Please +don't laugh at me, Carter! I love it here, and I want to stay. You +know Aunt Elizabeth; you know what her friends are like. They think I +am queer. I can't be happy where they are." + +Mrs. Nelson resorted to her smelling-bottle. "Of course my opinions +are of no weight. I only wish to remind you that it would be most +impolitic to offend your Aunt Elizabeth. She could introduce you into +the most desirable set; and even if she is a little--" she searched a +moment for a word--"a little liberal in her views, one can overlook +that on account of her generosity. She is a very influential woman, +Ruth, and a very wealthy one." + +Ruth made a quick, impatient gesture. "I don't like her, Aunt Clara; +and I don't want you to ask me to go there." + +Mrs. Nelson folded her napkin with tragic deliberation. "Very well," +she said; "it is not my place to urge it. I can only point out your +duty and leave the rest to you. One thing I must speak about, and that +is your associating so familiarly with these townspeople. They are +impertinent; they take advantages, and forget who we are. Why, the +blacksmith had the audacity to refer to the dear major as 'Bob.'" + +"Old Uncle Dan?" asked Ruth, laughing. "I saw him yesterday, and he +shook hands with me and said: 'Golly, sissy, how you've growed!'" + +"Ruth," cried Mrs. Nelson, "how can you! Haven't you _any_ family +pride?" The tears came to her eyes, for the invitation to visit the +Hunter-Nelsons was one for which she had angled skilfully, and its +summary dismissal was a sore trial to her. + +In a moment Ruth was at her side, all contrition: "I'm sorry, Aunt +Clara; I know I'm a disappointment to you. I'll try--" + +Mrs. Nelson withdrew her hand and directed her injured reply to +Carter. "I have done my duty by your sister. She has been given every +advantage a young lady could desire. If she insists upon throwing away +her opportunities, I can't help it. I suppose I am no longer to be +consulted--no longer to be considered." She sought the seclusion of +her pocket-handkerchief, and her pompadour swayed with emotion. + +Ruth stood at the table, miserably pulling a rose to pieces. This +discussion was an old one, but it lost none of its sting by +repetition. Was she queer and obstinate and unreasonable? + +"Ruth's all right," said Carter, seeing her discomfort. "She will have +more sense when she is older. She's just got her little head turned by +all the attention she has had since coming home. There isn't a boy in +the county who wouldn't make love to her at the drop of her eyelash. +She was the belle of the hop last night; had the boys about her three +deep most of the time." + +"The hop!" Mrs. Nelson so far forgot herself as to uncover one eye. +"Don't speak of that wretched affair! The idea of her going! What do +you suppose your Aunt Elizabeth would say? A country dance in a public +hall!" + +"I only dropped in for the last few dances," said Carter, pouring +himself another glass of wine. "It was beastly hot and stupid." + +"I danced every minute the music played," cried Ruth; "and when they +played, 'Home, Sweet Home,' I could have begun and gone right through +it again." + +"By the way," said her brother, "didn't I see you dancing with that +Kilday boy?" + +"The last dance," said Ruth. "Why?" + +"Oh, I was a little surprised, that's all." + +Mrs. Nelson, scenting the suggestion in Carter's voice, was instantly +alert. + +"Who, pray, is Kilday?" + +"Oh, Kilday isn't anybody; that's the trouble. If he had been, he +would never have stayed with that old crank Judge Hollis. The judge +thinks he is appointed by Providence to control this bright particular +burg. He is even attempting to regulate me of late. The next time he +interferes he'll hear from me." + +"But Kilday?" urged Mrs. Nelson, feebly persistent. + +"Oh, Kilday is good enough in his place. He's a first-class athlete, +and has made a record up at the academy. But he was a peddler, you +know--an Irish peddler; came here three or four years ago with a pack +on his back." + +"And Ruth danced with him!" Mrs. Nelson's words were punctuated with +horror. + +Ruth looked up with blazing eyes. "Yes, I danced with him; why +shouldn't I? You made me dance with Mr. Warrenton, last summer, when I +told you he was drinking." + +"But, my dear child, you forget who Mr. Warrenton is. And you actually +danced with a peddler!" Her voice grew faint. "My dear, this must +never occur again. You are young and easily imposed upon. I will +accompany you everywhere in the future. Of course you need never +recognize him hereafter. The impertinence of his addressing you!" + +A step sounded on the gravel outside. Ruth ran to the window and spoke +to some one below. "I'll be there as soon as I change my habit," she +called. + +"Who is it?" asked her aunt, hastily arranging her disturbed locks. + +Ruth paused at the door. There was a slight tremor about her lips, +but her eyes flashed their first open declaration of independence. + +"It's Mr. Kilday," she said; "we are going out on the river." + +There was an oppressive silence of ten minutes after she left, during +which Carter smiled behind his paper and Mrs. Nelson gazed indignantly +at the tea-pot. Then she tapped the bell. + +"Rachel," she said impressively, "go to Miss Ruth's room and get her +veil and gloves and sun-shade. Have Thomas take them to the boat-house +at once." + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +UNDER THE WILLOWS + + +Between willow-fringed banks of softest green, and under the bluest of +summer skies, the little river took its lazy Southern way. Tall blue +lobelias and golden flags played hide-and-seek in the reflections of +the gentle stream, and an occasional spray of goldenrod, advance-guard +of the autumn, stood apart, a silent warning to the summer idlers. + +Somewhere overhead a vireo, dainty poet of bird-land, proclaimed his +love to the wide world; while below, another child of nature, no less +impassioned, no less aching to give vent to the joy that was bursting +his being, sat silent in a canoe that swung softly with the pulsing of +the stream. + +For Sandy had followed the highroad that led straight into the Land +of Enchantment. No more wanderings by intricate byways up golden hills +to golden castles; the Love Road had led him at last to the real world +of the King Arthur days--the world that was lighted by a strange and +wondrous light of romance, wherein he dwelt, a knight, waiting and +longing to prove his valor in the eyes of his lady fair. + +Burning deeds of prowess rioted in his brain. Oh for dungeons and +towers and forbidding battlements! Any danger was welcome from which +he might rescue her. Fire, flood, or bandits--he would brave them all. +Meanwhile he sat in the prow of the boat, his hands clasped about his +knees, utterly powerless to break the spell of awkward silence that +seemed to possess him. + +[Illustration: "Burning deeds of prowess rioted in his brain"] + +They had paddled in under the willows to avoid the heat of the sun, +and had tied their boat to an overhanging bough. + +Ruth, with her sleeve turned back to the elbow, was trailing her hand +in the cool water and watching the little circles that followed her +fingers. Her hat was off, and her hair, where the sun fell on it +through the leaves, was almost the color of her eyes. + +But what was the real color of her eyes? Sandy brought all his +intellect to bear upon the momentous question. Sometimes, he thought, +they were as dark as the velvet shadows in the heart of the stream; +sometimes they were lighted by tiny flames of gold that sparkled in +the brown depths as the sunshine sparkled in the shadows. They were +deep as his love and bright as his hope. + +Suddenly he realized that she had asked him a question. + +"It's never a word I've heard of what ye are saying!" he exclaimed +contritely. "My mind was on your eyes, and the brown of them. Do they +keep changing color like that all the time?" + +Ruth, thus earnestly appealed to, blushed furiously. + +"I was talking about the river," she said quickly. "It's jolly under +here, isn't it? So cool and green! I was awfully cross when I +came." + +"You cross?" + +She nodded her head. "And ungrateful, and perverse, and queer, and +totally unlike my father's family." She counted off her shortcomings +on her fingers, and raised her brows in comical imitation of her aunt. + +"A left-hand blessing on the one that said so!" cried Sandy, with such +ardor that she fled to another subject. + +"I saw Martha Meech yesterday. She was talking about you. She was very +weak, and could speak only in a whisper, but she seemed happy." + +"It's like her soul was in Heaven already," said Sandy. + +"I took her a little picture," went on Ruth; "she loves them so. It +was a copy of one of Turner's." + +"Turner?" repeated Sandy. "Joseph Mallord William Turner, born in +London, 1775. Member of the Royal Academy. Died in 1851." + +She looked so amazed at this burst of information that he laughed. + +"It's out of the catalogue. I learned what it said about the ones I +liked best years ago." + +"Where?" + +"At the Olympian Exposition." + +"I was there," said Ruth; "it was the summer we came home from Europe. +Perhaps that was where I saw you. I know I saw you somewhere before +you came here." + +"Perhaps," said Sandy, skipping a bit of bark across the water. + +A band of yellow butterflies on wide wings circled about them, and +one, mistaking Ruth's rosy wet fingers for a flower, settled there for +a long rest. + +"Look!" she whispered; "see how long it stays!" + +"It's not meself would be blaming it for forgetting to go away," said +Sandy. + +They both laughed, then Ruth leaned over the boat's side and pretended +to be absorbed in her reflection in the water. Sandy had not learned +that unveiled glances are improper, and if his lips refrained from +echoing the vireo's song, his eyes were less discreet. + +"You've got a dimple in your elbow!" he cried, with the air of one +discovering a continent. + +"I haven't," declared she, but the dimple turned State's evidence. + +The sun had gone under a cloud as the afternoon shadows began to +lengthen, and a light tenderer than sunlight and warmer than moonlight +fell across the river. The water slipped over the stones behind them +with a pleasant swish and swirl, and the mint that was crushed by the +prow of their boat gave forth an aromatic perfume. + +Ever afterward the first faint odor of mint made Sandy close his eyes +in a quick desire to retain the memory it recalled, to bring back the +dawn of love, the first faint flush of consciousness in the girlish +cheeks and the soft red lips, and the quick, uncertain breath as her +heart tried not to catch beat with his own. + +"Can't you sing something?" she asked presently. "Annette Fenton says +you know all sorts of quaint old songs." + +"They're just the bits I remember of what me mother used to sing me in +the old country." + +"Sing the one you like best," demanded Ruth. + +Softly, with the murmur of the river ac-companying the song, he began: + + "Ah! The moment was sad when my love and I parted, + Savourneen deelish, signan O! + As I kiss'd off her tears, I was nigh broken-hearted!-- + Savourneen deelish, signan O!" + +Ruth took her hand out of the water and looked at him with puzzled +eyes. "Where have I heard it? On a boat somewhere, and the moon was +shining. I remember the refrain perfectly." + +Sandy remembered, too. In a moment he felt himself an impostor and a +cheat. He had stumbled into the Enchanted Land, but he had no right to +be there. He buried his head in his hands and felt the dream-world +tottering about him. + +"Are you trying to remember the second verse?" asked Ruth. + +"No," said he, his head still bowed; "I'm trying to help you remember +the first one. Was it the boat ye came over from Europe in?" + +"That was it!" she cried. "It was on shipboard. I was standing by the +railing one night and heard some one singing it in the steerage. I was +just a little girl, but I've never forgotten that 'Savourneen +deelish,' nor the way he sang it." + +"Was it a man'?" asked Sandy, huskily. + +"No," she said, half frowning in her effort to remember; "it was a +boy--a stowaway, I think. They said he had tried to steal his way in a +life-boat." + +"He had!" cried Sandy, raising his head and leaning toward her. "He +stole on board with only a few shillings and a bundle of clothes. He +sneaked his way up to a life-boat and hid there like a thief. When +they found him and punished him as he deserved, there was a little +lady looked down at him and was sorry, and he's traveled over all the +years from then to now to thank her for it." + +Ruth drew back in amazement, and Sandy's courage failed for a moment. +Then his face hardened and he plunged recklessly on: + +"I've blacked boots, and sold papers; I've fought dogs, and peddled, +and worked on the railroad. Many's the time I've been glad to eat the +scraps the workmen left on the track. And just because a kind, good +man--God prosper his soul!--saw fit to give me a home and an +education, I turned a fool and dared to think I was a gentleman!" + +For a moment pride held Ruth's pity back. Every tradition of her +family threw up a barrier between herself and this son of the soil. + +"Why did you come to Kentucky?" she asked. + +"Why?" cried Sandy, too miserable to hold anything back. "Because I +saw the name of the place on your bag at the pier. I came here for the +chance of seeing you again, of knowing for sure there was something +good and beautiful in the world to offset all the bad I'd seen. Every +page I've learned has been for you, every wrong thought I've put out +of me mind has been to make more room for you. I don't even ask ye to +be my friend; I only ask to be yours, to see ye sometime, to talk to +you, and to keep ye first in my heart and to serve ye to the end." + +The vireo had stopped singing and was swinging on a bough above them. + +Ruth sat very still and looked straight before her. She had never seen +a soul laid bare before, and the sight thrilled and troubled her. All +the petty artifices which the world had taught her seemed useless +before this shining candor. + +"And--and you've remembered me all this time?" she asked, with a +little tremble in her voice. "I did not know people cared like that." + +"And you're not sorry?" persisted Sandy. "You'll let me be your +friend?" + +She held out her hand with an earnestness as deep as his own. In an +instant he had caught it to his lips. All the bloom of the summer +rushed to her cheeks, and she drew quickly away. + +"Oh! but I'll take it back--I never meant it," cried Sandy, wild with +remorse. "Me heart crossed the line ahead of me head, that was all. +You've given me your friendship, and may the sorrow seize me if I ever +ask for more!" + +At this the vireo burst into such mocking, derisive laughter of song +that they both looked up and smiled. + +"He doesn't think you mean it," said Ruth; "but you must mean it, +else I can't ever be your friend." + +Sandy shook his fist at the bird. + +"You spalpeen, you! If I had ye down here I'd throw ye out of the +tree! But you mustn't believe him. I'll stick to my word as the wind +to the tree-tops. No--I don't mean that. As the stream to the shore. +No-" + +He stopped and laughed. All figures of speech conspired to make him +break his word. + +Somewhere from out the forgotten world came six long, lingering +strokes of a bell. Sandy and Ruth untied the canoe and paddled out +into midstream, leaving the willow bower full of memories and the +vireo still hopping about among the branches. + +"I'll paddle you up to the bridge," said Ruth; "then you will be near +the post-office." + +Sandy's voice was breaking to say that she could paddle him up to the +moon if she would only stay there between him and the sun, with her +hair forming a halo about her face. But they were going down-stream, +and all too soon he was stepping out of the canoe to earth again. + +"And will I have to be waiting till the morrow to see you?" he asked, +with his hand on the boat. + +"To-morrow? Not until Sunday." + +"But Sunday is a month off! You'll be coming for the mail?" + +"We send for the mail," said Ruth, demurely. + +"Then ye'll be sending in vain for yours. I'll hold it back till ye +come yourself, if I lose my position for it." + +Ruth put three feet of water between them, then she looked up with +mischief in her eyes. "I don't want you to lose your position," she +said. + +"Then you'll come?" + +"Perhaps." + +Sandy watched her paddle away straight into the heart of the sun. He +climbed the bank and waved her out of sight. He had to use a maple +branch, for his hat and handkerchief, not to mention less material +possessions, were floating down-stream in the boat with Ruth. + +"Hello, Kilday!" called Dr. Fenton from the road above. "Going +up-town? I'll give you a lift." + +Sandy turned and looked up at the doctor impatiently. The presence of +other people in the world seemed an intrusion. + +"I've been out to the Meeches' all afternoon," said the doctor, +wearily, mopping his face with a red-bordered handkerchief. + +"Is Martha worse?" asked Sandy, in quick alarm. + +"No, she's better," said the doctor, gruffly; "she died at four +o'clock." + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +THE VICTIM + + +Some poet has described love as a little glow and a little shiver; to +Sandy it was more like a ravaging fire in his heart, which lighted up +a world of such unutterable bliss that he cheerfully added fresh fuel +to the flames that were consuming him. The one absorbing necessity of +his existence was to see Ruth daily, and the amount of strategy, +forethought, and subtilty with which he accomplished it argued well +for his future ability at the bar. + +In the long hours of the night Wisdom urged prudence; she presented +all the facts in the case, and convinced him of his folly. But with +the dawn he threw discretion to the winds, and rushed valiantly +forward, leading a forlorn hope under cover of a little Platonic flag +of truce. + +With all the fervor and intensity of his nature he tried to fit +himself to Ruth's standards. Every unconscious suggestion that she let +fall, through word, or gesture, or expression, he took to heart and +profited by. With almost passionate earnestness he sought to be worthy +of her. Fighting, climbing, struggling upward, he closed his eyes to +the awful depth to which he would fall if his quest were vain. + +Meanwhile his cheeks became hollow and he lost his appetite. The judge +attributed it to Martha Meech's death; for Sandy's genuine grief and +his continued kindness to the bereft neighbors confirmed an old +suspicion. Mrs. Hollis thought it was malaria, and dosed him +accordingly. It was Aunt Melvy who made note of his symptoms and +diagnosed his case correctly. + +"He's sparkin' some gal, Miss Sue; dat's what ails him," she said one +evening as she knelt on the sitting-room hearth to kindle the first +fire of the season. "Dey ain't but two t'ings onder heaben dat'll keep +a man f'om eatin'. One's a woman, t' other is lack ob food." + +Judge Hollis looked over his glasses and smiled. + +"Who do you think the lady is, Melvy?" + +Aunt Melvy wagged her head knowingly as she held a paper across the +fireplace to start the blaze. + +"I ain't gwine tell no tales on Mist' Sandy. But yer can't fool dis +heah ole nigger. I mind de signs; I knows mo' 'bout de young folks in +dis heah town den dey t'ink I do. Fust t'ing you know, I'm gwine tell +on some ob 'em, too. I 'spect de doctor would put' near die ef he +knowed dat Miss Annette was a-havin' incandescent meetin's wif Carter +Nelson 'most ever' day." + +"Is Sandy after Annette, too?" + +"No, sonny, no!" said Aunt Melvy, to whom all men were "sonny" until +they died of old age. "Mist' Sandy he's aimin' at high game. He's +fix' his eyeball on de shore-'nough quality." + +"Do you mean Ruth Nelson?" asked Mrs. Hollis, snapping her scissors +sharply. "He surely wouldn't be fool enough to think she would look at +him. Why, the Nelsons think they are the only aristocratic people that +ever lived in Clayton. If they had paid less attention to their +ancestors and more to their descendants, they might have had a better +showing." + +"I nebber said it was Miss Rufe," said Aunt Melvy from the doorway; +"but den ag'in I don't say hit ain't." + +"Well, I hope it's not," said the judge to his wife as he laid down +his paper; "though I must say she is as pretty and friendly a girl as +I ever saw. No matter how long she stays away, she is always glad to +see everybody when she comes back. Some of old Evan's geniality must +have come down to her." + +"Geniality!" cried Mrs. Hollis. "It was mint-juleps and brandy and +soda. He was just as snobbish as the rest of them when he was sober. +If she has any good in her, it's from her mother's side of the house." + +"I hope Sandy isn't interested there," went on the judge, +thoughtfully. "It would not do him any good, and would spoil his taste +for what he could get. How long has it been going on, Sue?" + +"He's been acting foolish for a month, but it gets worse all the time. +He moons around the house, with his head in the clouds, and sits up +half the night hanging out of his window. He has raked out all those +silly old poetry-books of yours, and I find them strewn all over the +house. Here's one now; look at those pencil-marks all round the +margin!" + +"Some of the marks were there before," said the judge, as he read the +title. + +"Then there are more fools than one in the world. Here is where he has +turned down a leaf. Now just read that bosh and nonsense!" + +The judge took the book from her hand and read with a reminiscent +smile: + + "When cold in the earth lies the friend thou hast loved, + Be his faults and his follies forgot by thee then; + Or if from their slumber the veil be removed, + Weep o'er them in silence and close it again. + And, oh! if 't is pain to remember how far + From the pathway of light he was tempted to roam, + Be it bliss to remember that thou wert the star + That arose on his darkness and guided him home." + +The judge paused, with his eyes on the fire; then he said: "I think +I'll wait up for the boy to-night, Sue. I want to tell him the good +news myself. You haven't spoken of it?" + +"No, indeed. I haven't seen him since breakfast. Melvy says he spends +his spare time on the river. That's what's giving him the malaria, +too, you mark my words." + +It was after eleven when Sandy's step sounded on the porch. At the +judge's call he opened the sitting-room door and stood dazed by the +sudden light. The judge noticed that he was pale and dejected, and he +suppressed a smile over the imaginary troubles of youth. + +"What's the matter? Are you sick?" he asked. + +"No, sir." + +"Come in to the fire; it's a bit chilly these nights." + +Sandy dropped listlessly into a chair, with his back to the light. + +"There are several things I want to talk over," continued the judge. +"One is about Ricks Wilson. He has behaved very badly ever since that +affair in August. Everybody who goes near the jail comes away with +reports of his threats against me. He seems to think I am holding his +trial over until January, when the fact is I have been trying to get +him released on your account. It is of no use, though; he will have to +wait his turn." + +"I'm sorry, sir," said Sandy, without looking up. + +"Then there's Carter Nelson encouraging him in his feeling against +me. It seems that Nelson wants the fellow to drive for him at the fall +trots, and he has given me no end of trouble about getting him off. +What an insolent fellow Nelson is! He talked very ugly in my office +yesterday, and made various threats about making me regret any +interference. I wouldn't have stood it from any one else; but Carter +is hardly responsible. I have watched him from the time he was born. +He came into the world with a mortal illness, and I doubt if he ever +had a well day in his life. He's a degenerate, Sandy; he's bearing the +sins of a long line of dissolute ancestors. We have to be patient with +men like that; we have to look on them as we do on the insane." + +He waited for some response, but, getting none, pulled his chair in +confidential proximity and laid his hand on Sandy's knee. "However, +that's neither here nor there," he said. "I have a surprise for you. I +couldn't let you go to bed without telling you about it. It's about +your future, Sandy. I've been talking it over with Mr. Moseley, and he +is confident--" + +Suddenly Sandy rose and stood by the table. + +"Don't be making any more plans for me," he said desperately; "I've +made up me mind to enlist." + +"Enlist! In the army?" + +"Yes; I've got to get away. I must go so far that I can't come back; +and, judge--I want to go to-morrow!" + +"Is it money matters?" + +A long silence followed--of the kind that ripens confidence. Presently +Sandy lifted his haggard eyes: "It's nothing I'm ashamed of, judge; ye +must take me word for that. It's like taking the heart out of me body +to go, but I've made up me mind. Nothing on earth can change me +purpose; I enlist on the morrow." + +The judge looked at him long and earnestly over his glasses, then he +asked in calm, judicial tones: "Is her answer final?" + +Sandy started from his chair. How finite intelligence could have +discovered the innermost secret of his soul seemed little short of +miraculous. But the relief of being able to pour out his feelings +mastered all other considerations. + +"Oh, sir, there was never a question. Like the angel she is, she let +me be near her so long as I held my peace; but, fool that I am, I +break me promise again and again. I can't keep silent when I see her. +The truth would burst from me lips if I was dumb." + +"And you think you would be better if you were out of her sight?" + +"Is a starving man better when he is away from food?" asked Sandy, +fiercely. "Heaven knows it's not of meself I'm thinking. It's breaking +her tender heart to see me misery staring her in the face, and I'll +put it out of her sight." + +"Is it Ruth?" asked the judge. + +Sandy assented with bowed head. + +The judge got up and stood before the fire. + +"Didn't you know," he began as kindly as he could put it, "that you +were not in her--that is, that she was not of your--" + +Sandy lifted blazing eyes, hot with the passion of youth. + +"If she'd been in heaven and I'd been in hell, I'd have stretched out +my arms to her still!" + +Something in his eyes, in his voice, in his intensity, brought the +judge to his side. + +"How long has this thing been going on?" he asked seriously. + +"Four years!" + +"Before you came here?" + +"Yes." + +"You followed her here?" + +"Yes." + +Whereupon the judge gave vent to the one profane word in his +vocabulary. + +Then Sandy, having confided so far, made a clean breast of it, +breaking down at the end when he tried to describe Ruth's goodness +and the sorrow his misery had caused her. + +When it was over the judge had hold of his hand and was bestowing +large, indiscriminate pats upon his head and shoulders. + +"It's hard luck, Sandy; hard luck. But you must brace up, boy. +Everybody wants something in the world he can't get. We all go under, +sooner or later, with some wish ungratified. Now I've always wanted--" +he pressed his fingers on his lips for a moment, then went on--"the +one thing I've wanted was a son. It seemed to me there was nothing +else in the world would make up to me for that lack. I had money more +than enough, and health and friends; but I wanted a boy. When you came +I said to Sue: 'Let's keep him a while just to see how it would feel.' +It's been worth while, Sandy; you have done me credit. It almost +seemed as if the Lord didn't mean me to be disappointed, after all. +And to-day, when Mr. Moseley said you ought to have a year or two at +the big university, I said: 'Why not? He's just like my own. I'll send +him this year and next, and then he can come home and be a comfort to +me all the rest of my days.' That's what I was sitting up to tell you, +Sandy; but now--" + +"And ye sha'n't be disappointed!" cried Sandy. "I'll go anywhere you +say, do anything you wish. Only you wouldn't be asking me to stay +here?" + +"Not now, Sandy; not for a while." + +"Never!--so long as she's here. I'll never bring me sorrow between her +and the sun again-so help me, Heaven! And if the Lord gives me +strength, I'll never see her face again, so long as I live!" + +"Go to bed, boy; go to bed. You are tired out. We will ship you off to +the university next week." + +"Can't I be going to-morrow? Friday, then? I'd never dare trust meself +over the week." + +"Friday, then. But mind, no more prancing to-night; we must both go to +bed." + +Neither of them did so, however. Sandy went to his room and sat in +his window, watching a tiny light that flickered, far across the +valley, in the last bend of the river before it left the town. His +muscles were tense, his nerves a-tingle, as he strained his eyes in +the darkness to keep watch of the beacon. It was the last glimpse of +home to a sailor who expected never to return. + +Down in the sitting-room the judge was lost in the pages of a worn old +copy of Tom Moore. He fingered the pages with a tenderness of other +days, and lingered over the forgotten lines with a half-quizzical, +half-sad smile on his lips. For he had been a lover once, and Sandy's +romance stirred dead leaves in his heart that sent up a faint perfume +of memory. + +"Yes," he mused half aloud; "I marked that one too: + + "Be it bliss to remember that thou wert the star + That arose on his darkness and guided him home." + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +THE TRIALS OF AN ASSISTANT POSTMASTER + + +By all laws of mercy the post-master in a small town should be old and +mentally near-sighted. Jimmy Reed was young and curious. He had even +yielded to temptation once in removing a stamp on a letter from +Annette Fenton to a strange suitor. Not that he wanted to delay the +letter. He only wanted to know if she put tender messages under the +stamp when she wrote to other people. + +During the two years Sandy remained at the university, Jimmy handed +his letters out of the post-office window to the judge once a week, +following them half-way with his body to pick up the verbal crumbs of +interest the judge might let fall while perusing them. The supremacy +which Sandy had established in the base-ball days had lent him a +permanent halo in the eyes of the younger boys of Clayton. "Letter +from Sandy this morning," Jimmy would announce, adding somewhat +anxiously, "Ain't he on the team yet?" + +The judge was obliging and easy-going, and he frequently gratified +Jimmy's curiosity. + +"No; he's studying pretty hard these days. He says he is through with +athletics." + +"Does he like it up there?" + +"Oh, yes, yes; I guess he likes it well enough," the judge would +answer tentatively; "but I am afraid he's working too hard." + +"Looks like a pity to spoil such a good pitcher," said Jimmy, +thoughtfully. "I never saw him lose but one game, and that nearly +killed him." + +"Disappointment goes hard with him," said the judge, and he sighed. + +Jimmy's chronic interest developed into acute curiosity the second +winter--about the time the Nelsons returned to Clayton after a long +absence. + +On Thanksgiving morning he found two letters bearing his hero's +handwriting. One was to Judge Hollis and one to Miss Ruth Nelson. The +next week there were also two, both of which went to Miss Nelson. +After that it became a regular occurrence. + +Jimmy recognized two letters a week from one person to one person as a +danger-signal. His curiosity promptly rose to fever-heat. He even went +so far as to weigh the letters, and roughly to calculate the number of +pages in each. Once or twice he felt something hard inside, and upon +submitting the envelop to his nose, he distinguished the faint +fragrance of pressed flowers. It was perhaps a blessing in disguise +that the duty of sorting the outgoing mail did not fall to his lot. +One added bit of information would have resulted in spontaneous +combustion. + +By and by letters came daily, their weight increasing until they +culminated, about Christmas-time, in a special-delivery letter which +bristled under the importance of its extra stamp. + +The same morning the telegraph operator stopped in to ask if the +Nelsons had been in for their mail. "I have a message for Miss Nelson, +but I thought they started for California this morning." + +"It's to-morrow morning they go," said Jimmy. "I'll send the message +out. I've got a special letter for her, and they can both go out by +the same boy." + +When the operator had gone, Jimmy promptly unfolded the yellow slip, +which was innocent of envelop. + + Do not read special-delivery letter. Will explain. + + S.K. + +For some time he sat with the letter in one hand and the message in +the other. Why had Sandy written that huge letter if he did not want +her to read it? Why didn't he want her to read it? Questions buzzed +about him like bees. + +Large ears are said to be indicative of an inquisitive nature. Jimmy's +stood out like the handles on a loving-cup. With all this explosive +material bottled up in him, he felt like a torpedo-boat deprived of +action. + +After a while he got up and went into the drug-store next door. When +he came back he made sure he was alone in the office. Then he propped +up the lid of his desk with the top of his head, in a manner acquired +at school, and hiding behind this improvised screen, he carefully took +from his pocket a small bottle of gasolene. Pouring a little on his +handkerchief, he applied it to the envelop of the special-delivery +letter. + +As if by magic, the words within showed through; and by frequent +applications of the liquid the engrossed Jimmy deciphered the +following: + + --like the moan of the sea in my heart, and it will not be still. + Heart, body, and soul will call to you, Ruth, so long as the + breath is in my body. I have not the courage to be your friend. + I swear, with all the strength I have left, never to see you nor + write you again. God bless you, my-- + +A noise at the window brought Jimmy to the surface. It was Annette +Fenton, and she seemed nervous and excited. + +"Mercy, Jimmy! What's the m-matter? You looked like you were caught +eating doughnuts in study hour. What a funny smell! Say, Jimmy; don't +you want to do something for me?" + +Jimmy had spent his entire youth in urging her to accept everything +that was his, and he hailed this as a good omen. + +"I have a l-letter here for dad," she went on, fidgeting about +uneasily and watching the door. "I don't want him to g-get it until +after the last train goes to-night. Will you see that he d-doesn't get +it before nine o'clock?" + +Jimmy took the letter and looked blankly from it to Annette. + +"Why, it's from you!" + +"What if it is, you b-booby?" she cried sharply; then she changed her +tactics and looked up appealingly through the little square window. + +"Oh, Jimmy, do help me out! That's a d-dear! I'm in no end of a +scrape. You'll do as I ask, now w-w-won't you?" + +Jimmy surrendered on the spot. + +"Now," said Annette, greatly relieved, "find out what time the d-down +train starts, and if it's on time." + +"It ought to start at three," reported Jimmy after consulting the +telegraph operator. "It's an hour late on account of the snow. +Expecting somebody?" + +She shook her head. + +"Going to the city yourself?" + +"Of course not. Whatever made you think that?" she cried with +unnecessary vehemence. Then, changing the subject abruptly, she added: +"G-guess who has come home?" + +"Who?" cried Jimmy, with palpitating ears. + +"Sandy Kilday. You never saw anybody look so g-grand. He's gotten to +be a regular swell, and he walks like this." + +Annette held her umbrella horizontally, squared her shoulders, and +swung bravely across the room. + +"Sandy Kilday?" gasped Jimmy, with a clutch at the letter in his +pocket. "Where's he at?" + +"He's trying to get up from the d-depot. He has been an hour coming +two squares. Everybody has stopped him, from Mr. Moseley on down to +the b-blacksmith's twins." + +"Is he coming this way?" asked Jimmy, wild-eyed and anxious. + +Annette stepped to the window. + +"Yes; they are crossing the street now." She opened the sash and, +snatching a handful of snow, rolled it into a ball, which she sailed +out of the window. It was promptly answered by one from below, which +whirled past her and shattered itself against the wall. + +"Dare, dare, double dare!" she called as she flung handfuls of loose +snow from the window-ledge. A quick volley of balls followed, then +the door burst open. Sandy and Ruth Nelson stood laughing on the +threshold. + +"Hello, partner!" sang out Sandy to Jimmy. "Still at the old work, I +see! Do you mind how you taught me to count the change when I first +sold stamps?" + +Jimmy tried to smile, but his effort was a failure. The interesting +tangle of facts and circumstances faded from his mind, and he resorted +instinctively to nature's first law. With an agitated countenance, he +sought self-preservation by waving Sandy's letter behind him in a +frantic effort to banish, if possible, the odor of his guilt. + +Sandy stayed at the door with Annette, but Ruth came to the window and +asked for her mail. When she smiled at the contrite Jimmy she +scattered the few remaining ideas that lingered in his brain. With +crimson face and averted eyes, he handed her the letter, forgetting +that telegrams existed. + +He saw her send a quick, puzzled glance from the letter to Sandy; he +saw her turn away from the door and tear open the envelop; then, to +his everlasting credit, he saw no more. + +When he ventured forth from behind his desk the office was empty. He +made a cautious survey of the premises; then, opening a back window, +he seized a small bottle by the neck and hurled it savagely against +the brick wall opposite. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +THE IRONY OF CHANCE + + +The snow, which had begun as an insignificant flurry in the morning, +developed into a storm by afternoon. + +Four miles from town, in a dreary stretch of country, a +dejected-looking object tramped along the railroad-track. His hat was +pulled over his eyes and his hands were thrust in his pockets. Now and +again he stopped, listened, and looked at his watch. + +It was Sandy Kilday, and he was waiting for the freight-train with the +fixed intention of committing suicide. + +The complications arising from Jimmy Reed's indiscretion had resulted +disastrously. When Sandy found that Ruth had read his letter, his +common sense took flight. Instead of a supplicant, he became an +invader, and stormed the citadel with such hot-headed passion and +fervor that Ruth fled in affright to the innermost chamber of her +maidenhood, and there, barred and barricaded, withstood the siege. + +His one desire in life now was to quit it. He felt as if he had read +his death-warrant, and it was useless ever again to open his eyes on +this gray, impossible world. + +He did not know how far he had come. Everything about him was strange +and unfriendly: the woods had turned to gaunt and gloomy skeletons +that shivered and moaned in the wind; the sunny fields of ragweed were +covered with a pall; and the river--his dancing, singing river--was a +black and sullen stream that closed remorselessly over the dying +snowflakes. His woods, his fields, his river,--they knew him not; he +stared at them blankly and they stared back at him. + +A rabbit, frightened at his approach, jumped out of the bushes and +went bounding down the track ahead of him. The sight of the round +little cottontail leaping from tie to tie brought a momentary +diversion; but he did not want to be diverted. + +With an effort he came back to his stern purpose. He forced himself to +face the facts and the future. What did it matter if he was only +twenty-one, with his life before him? What satisfaction was it to have +won first honors at the university? There was but one thing in the +world that made life worth living, and that was denied him. Perhaps +after he was gone she would love him. + +This thought brought remarkable consolation. He pictured to himself +her remorse when she heard the tragic news. He attended in spirit his +own funeral, and even saw her tears fall upon his still face. +Meanwhile he listened impatiently for the train. + +Instead of the distant rumble of the cars, he heard on the road below +the sound of a horse's hoofs, quickly followed by voices. Slipping +behind the embankment, he waited for the vehicle to pass. The horse +was evidently walking, and the voices came to him distinctly. + +"I'm not a coward--any s-such thing! We oughtn't to have c-come, in +the first place. I can't go with you. Please turn round, +C-Carter,--please!" + +There was no mistaking that high, childlike voice, with its faltering +speech. + +Sandy's gloomy frown narrowed to a scowl. What business had Annette +out there in the storm? Where was she going with Carter Nelson? + +He quickened his steps to keep within sight of the slow-moving buggy. + +"There's nothing out this road but the Junction," he thought, trying +to collect his wits. "Could they be taking the train there? He goes to +California in the morning, but where's he taking Nettie to-day? And +she didn't want to be going, either; didn't I hear her say it with her +own lips?" + +He moved cautiously forward, now running a few paces to keep up, now +crouching behind the bushes. Every sense was keenly alert; his eyes +never left the buggy for a moment. + +When the freight thundered up the grade, he stepped mechanically to +one side, keeping a vigilant eye on the couple ahead, and begrudging +the time he lost while the train went by. It was not until an hour +later that he remembered he had forgotten to commit suicide. + +Stepping back on the ties, he hurried forward. He was convinced now +that they meant to take the down train which would pass the Clayton +train at the Junction in half an hour. Something must be done to save +Annette. The thought of her in the city, at the mercy of the +irresponsible Carter, sent him running down the track. He waited until +he was slightly in advance before he descended abruptly upon them. + +Annette was sitting very straight, talking excitedly, and Carter was +evidently trying to reassure her. + +As Sandy plunged down the embankment, they started apart, and Carter +reached for the whip. Before he could urge the horse forward, Sandy +had swung himself lightly to the step of the buggy, and was leaning +back against the dash-board. He looked past Carter to Annette. She was +making a heroic effort to look unconcerned and indifferent, but her +eyelids were red, and her handkerchief was twisted into a damp little +string about her fingers. Sandy wasted no time in diplomacy; he struck +straight out from the shoulder. + +"If it's doing something you don't want to, you don't have to, Nettie. +I'm here." + +Carter stopped his horse. + +"Will you get down?" he demanded angrily. + +"After you," said Sandy. + +Carter measured his man, then stepped to the ground. Sandy promptly +followed. + +"And now," said Carter, "you'll perhaps be good enough to explain what +you mean." + +Sandy still kept his hand on the buggy and his eyes on Annette; when +he spoke it was to her. + +"If it's your wish to go on, say the word." + +The tearful young person in the buggy looked very limp and miserable, +but declined to make any remarks. + +"Miss Fenton and I expect to be married this evening," said Carter, +striving for dignity, though his breath came short with excitement. +"We take the train in twenty minutes. Your interference is not only +impudent--it's useless. I know perfectly well who sent you: it was +Judge Hollis. He was the only man we met after we left town. Just +return to him, with my compliments, and tell him I say he is a meddler +and a fool!" + +"Annette," said Sandy, softly, coming toward her, "the doctor'll be +wanting his coffee by now." + +"Let me pass," cried Carter, "you common hound! Take your foot off +that step or I'll--" He made a quick motion toward his hip, and Sandy +caught his hand as it closed on a pearl-handled revolver. + +"None of that, man! I'll be going when I have her word. Is it good-by, +Annette? Must I be taking the word to your father that you've left him +now and for always? Yes? Then a shake of the hand for old times' +sake." + +Annette slipped a cold little hand into his free one, and feeling the +solid grasp of his broad palm, she clung to it as a drowning man +clings to a spar. + +"I can't go!" she cried, in a burst of tears. "I can't leave dad this +way! Make him take me b-back, Sandy! I want to go home!" + +Carter stood very still and white. His thin body was trembling from +head to foot, and the veins stood out on his forehead like whip-cord. +He clenched his hands in an effort to control himself. At Annette's +words he stepped aside with elaborate courtesy. + +"You are at perfect liberty to go with Mr. Kilday. All I ask is that +he will meet me as soon as we get back to town." + +"I can't go b-back on the train!" cried Annette, with a glance at her +bags and boxes. "Every one would suspect something if I did. Oh, why +d-did I come?" + +"My buggy is at your disposal," said Carter; "perhaps your +disinterested friend, Mr. Kilday, could be persuaded to drive you +back." + +"But, Carter," cried Annette, in quick dismay, "you must come, too. +I'll bring dad r-round; I always do. Then we can be married at home, +and I can have a veil and a r-ring and presents." + +She smiled at him coaxingly, but he folded his arms and scowled. + +"You go with me to the city, or you go back to Clayton with him. You +have just three minutes to make up your mind." + +[Illustration: "Sandy saw her waver"] + +Sandy saw her waver. The first minute she looked at him, the second at +Carter. He took no chances on the third. With a quick bound, he was +in the buggy and turning the horse homeward. + +"But I've decided to go with Carter!" cried Annette, hysterically. +"Turn b-back, Sandy! I've changed my mind." + +"Change it again," advised Sandy as he laid the whip gently across the +horse's back. + +Carter Nelson flung furiously off to catch the train for town, while +the would-be bride shed bitter tears on the shoulder of the would-be +suicide. + +The snow fell faster and faster, and the gray day deepened to dusk. +For a long time they drove along in silence, both busy with their own +thoughts. + +Suddenly they were lurched violently forward as the horse shied at +something in the bushes. Sandy leaned forward in time to see a figure +on all fours plunging back into the shrubbery. + +"Annette," he whispered excitedly, "did you see that man's face?" + +"Yes," she said, clinging to his arm; "don't leave me, Sandy!" + +"What did he look like? Tell me, quick!" + +"He had little eyes like shoe-buttons, and his teeth stuck out. Do you +suppose he was hiding?" + +"It was Ricks Wilson, or I am a blind man!" cried Sandy, standing up +in the buggy and straining his eyes in the darkness. + +"Why, he's in jail!" + +"May I never trust me two eyes to speak the truth again if that wasn't +Ricks!" + +When they started they found that the harness was broken, and all +efforts to fix it were in vain. + +"It's half-past five now," cried Annette. "If I don't get home +b-before dad, he'll have out the fire department." + +"There's a farm-house a good way back," said Sandy; "but it's too far +for you to walk. Will you be waiting here in the buggy until I go for +help?" + +"Well, I guess not!" said Annette, indignantly. + +Sandy looked at the round baby face beside him and laughed. "It's not +one of meself that blames you," he said; "but how are we ever to get +home?" + +Annette was not without resources. + +"What's the matter with riding the horse b-back to the farm?" + +"And you?" asked Sandy. + +"I'll ride behind." + +They became hilarious over the mounting, for the horse bitterly +resented a double burden. + +When he found he could not dispose of it he made a dash for freedom, +and raced over the frozen road at such a pace that they were soon at +their destination. + +"He won the handicap," laughed Sandy as he lifted his disheveled +companion to the ground. + +"It was glorious!" cried Annette, gathering up her flying locks. "I +lost every hair-pin but one." + +At the farm-house they met with a warm reception. + +"Jes step right in the kitchen," said the farmer. "Mommer'll take +care of you while I go out to the stable for some rope and another +hoss." + +The kitchen was a big, cheerful room, full of homely comfort. Bright +red window-curtains were drawn against the cold white world outside, +and the fire crackled merrily in the stove. + +Sandy and Annette stood, holding out their hands to the friendly +warmth. She was watching with interest the preparations for supper, +but he had grown silent and preoccupied. + +The various diversions of the afternoon had acted as a temporary +narcotic, through which he struggled again and again to wretched +consciousness. A surge of contempt swept over him that he could have +forgotten for a moment. He did not want to forget; he did not want to +think of anything else. + +"They smell awfully g-good," whispered Annette. + +"What?" + +"The hoe-cakes. I didn't have any dinner." + +"Neither did I." + +Annette looked up quickly. "What were you d-doing out there on the +track, Sandy?" + +The farmer's wife fortunately came to the rescue. + +"Hitch up yer cheers, you two, and take a little snack afore you go +out in the cold ag'in." + +Annette promptly accepted, but Sandy declared that he was not hungry. +He went to the window and, pulling back the curtain, stared out into +the night. Was all the rest of life going to be like this? Was that +restless, nervous, intolerable pain going to gnaw at his heart +forever? + +Meanwhile the savory odor of the hoe-cakes floated over his shoulder +and bits of the conversation broke in upon him. + +"Aw, take two or three and butter 'em while they are hot. Long +sweetening or short?" + +"Both," said Annette. "I never tasted anything so g-good. Sandy, +what's the matter with you? I never saw you when you weren't hungry +b-before. Look! Won't you try this s-sizzly one?" + +Sandy looked and was lost. He ate with a coming appetite. + +The farmer's wife served them with delighted zeal; she made trip after +trip from the stove to the table, pausing frequently to admire her +guests. + +"I've had six," said Annette; "do you suppose I'll have time for +another one?" + +"Lemme give you _both_ a clean plate and some pie," suggested the +eager housewife. + +Sandy looked at her and smiled. + +"I'll take the clean plate," he said, "and--and more hoe-cakes." + +When the farmer returned, and they rode back to the buggy, Annette +developed a sudden fever of impatience. She fidgeted about while the +men patched up the harness, and delayed their progress by her fire of +questions. + +After they started, Sandy leaned back in the buggy, lost in the fog +of his unhappiness. Off in the distance he could see the twinkling +lights of Clayton. One was apart from the rest; that was Willowvale. + +A sob aroused him. Annette, left to herself, had collapsed. He +patiently put forth a fatherly hand and patted her shoulder. + +"There, there, Nettie! You'll be all right in the morning." + +"I won't!" she declared petulantly. "You don't know anything ab-b-bout +being in love." + +Sandy surveyed her with tolerant sadness. Little her childish heart +knew of the depths through which he was passing. + +"Do you love him very much?" he asked. + +She nodded violently. "Better than any b-boy I was ever engaged to." + +"He's not worth it." + +"He is!" + +A strained silence, then he said: + +"Nettie, could you be forgiving me if I told you the Lord's truth?" + +"Don't you suppose dad's kept me p-posted about his faults? Why, he +would walk a mile to find out something b-bad about Carter Nelson." + +"He wouldn't have to. Nelson's a bad lot, Nettie. It isn't all his +fault; it's the price he pays for his blue blood. Your father's the +wise man to try to keep you from being his wife." + +"Everyb-body's down on him," she sobbed, "just because he has to +d-drink sometimes on account of his lungs. I didn't know you were so +mean." + +"Will you pass the word not to see him again before he leaves in the +morning?" + +"Indeed, I won't!" + +Sandy stopped the horse. "Then I'll wait till you do." + +She tried to take the lines, but he held her hands. Then she declared +she would walk. He helped her out of the buggy and watched her start +angrily forth. In a few minutes she came rushing back. + +"Sandy, you know I can't g-go by myself; I am afraid. Take me home." + +"And you promise?" + +She looked appealingly at him, but found no mercy. "You are the very +m-meanest boy I ever knew. Get me home before d-dad finds out, and +I'll promise anything. But this is the last word I'll ever s-speak to +you as long as I live." + +At half-past seven they drove into town. The streets were full of +people and great excitement prevailed. + +"They've found out about me!" wailed Annette, breaking her long +silence. "Oh, Sandy, what m-must I do?" + +Sandy looked anxiously about him. He knew that an elopement would not +cause the present commotion. "Jimmy!" He leaned out of the buggy and +called to a boy who was running past. "Jimmy Reed! What's the matter?" + +Jimmy, breathless and hatless, his whole figure one huge +question-mark, exploded like a bunch of fire-crackers. + +"That you, Sandy? Ricks Wilson's broke jail and shot Judge Hollis. It +was at half-past five. Dr. Fenton's been out there ever since. They +say the judge can't live till midnight. We're getting up a crowd to go +after Wilson." + +At the first words Sandy had sprung to his feet. "The judge shot! +Ricks Wilson! I'll kill him for that. Get out, Annette. I must go to +the judge. I'll be out to the farm in no time and back in less. Don't +you be letting them start without me, Jimmy." + +Whipping the already jaded horse to a run, he dashed through the +crowded streets, over the bridge, and out the turnpike. + +Ruth stood at one of the windows at Willowvale, peering anxiously out +into the darkness. Her figure showed distinctly against the light of +the room behind her, but Sandy did not see her. + +His soul was in a wild riot of grief and revenge. Two thoughts tore at +his brain: one was to see the judge before he died, and the other was +to capture Ricks Wilson. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +IN THE DARK + + +An ominous stillness hung over Hollis farm as Sandy ran up the avenue. +The night was dark, but the fallen snow gave a half-mysterious light +to the quiet scene. + +He stepped on the porch with a sinking heart. In the dimly lighted +hall Mr. Moseley and Mr. Meech kept silent watch, their faces grave +with apprehension. Without stopping to speak to them, Sandy hurried to +the door of the judge's room. Before he could turn the knob, Dr. +Fenton opened it softly and, putting his finger on his lips, came out, +cautiously closing the door behind him. + +"You can't go in," he whispered; "the slightest excitement might +finish him. He's got one chance in a hundred, boy; we've got to nurse +it." + +"Does he know?" + +"Never has known a thing since the bullet hit him. He was coming into +the sitting-room when Wilson fired through the window." + +"The black-hearted murderer!" cried Sandy. "I could swear I saw him +hiding in the bushes between here and the Junction." + +The doctor threw a side glance at Mr. Meech, then said significantly: + +"Have they started?" + +"Not yet. If there's nothing I can do for the judge, I'm going with +them." + +"That's right. I'd go, too, if I were not needed here. Wait a minute, +Sandy." His face looked old and worn. "Have you happened to see my +Nettie since noon?" + +"That I have, doctor. She was driving with me, and the harness broke. +She's home now." + +"Thank God!" cried the doctor. "I thought it was Nelson." + +Sandy passed through the dining-room and was starting up the steps +when he heard his name spoken. + +"Mist' Sandy! 'Fore de Lawd, where you been at? Oh, we been habin' de +terriblest times! My pore old mas'r done been shot down wifout bein' +notified or nuthin'. Pray de Lawd he won't die! I knowed somepin' was +gwine happen. I had a division jes 'fore daybreak; dey ain't no luck +worser den to dream 'bout a tooth fallin' out. Oh, Lordy! Lordy! I +hope he ain't gwine die!" + +"Hush, Aunt Melvy! Where's Mrs. Hollis?" + +"She's out in de kitchen, heatin' water an' waitin' on de doctor. She +won't let me do nuthin'. Seems lak workin' sorter lets off her +feelin's. Pore Miss Sue!" She threw her apron over her head and swayed +and sobbed. + +As Sandy tried to pass, she stopped him again, and after looking +furtively around she fumbled in her pocket for something which she +thrust into his hand. + +"Hit's de pistol!" she whispered. "I's skeered to give it to nobody +else, 'ca'se I's skeered dey'd try me for a witness. He done drap it +'longside de kitchen door. You won't let on I found it, honey? You +won't tell nobody?" + +He reassured her, and hastened to his room. Lighting his lamp, he +hurriedly changed his coat for a heavier, and was starting in hot +haste for the door when his eyes fell upon the pistol, which he had +laid on the table. + +It was a fine, pearl-handled revolver, thirty-eight caliber. He looked +at it closer, then stared blankly at the floor. He had seen it before +that afternoon. + +"Why, Carter must have given Ricks the pistol," he thought. "But +Carter was out at the Junction. What time did it happen?" + +He sat on the side of the bed and, pressing his hands to his temples, +tried to force the events to take their proper sequence. + +"I don't know when I left town," he thought, with a shudder; "it must +have been nearly four when I met Carter and Annette. He took the train +back. Yes, he would have had time to help Ricks. But I saw Ricks out +the turnpike. It was half-past five, I remember now. The doctor said +the judge was shot at a quarter of six." + +A startled look of comprehension flashed over his face. He sprang to +his feet and tramped up and down the small room. + +"I know I saw Ricks," he thought, his brain seething with excitement. +"Annette saw him, too; she described him. He couldn't have even driven +back in that time." + +He stopped again and stood staring intently before him. Then he took +the lamp and slipped down the back stairs and out the side door. + +The snow was trampled about the window and for some space beyond it. +The tracks had been followed to the river, the eager searchers keeping +well away from the tell-tale footsteps in order not to obliterate +them. Sandy knelt in the snow and held his lamp close to the single +trail. The print was narrow and long and ended in a tapering toe. +Ricks's broad foot would have covered half the space again. He jumped +to his feet and started for the house, then turned back irresolute. + +When he entered his little room again the slender footprints had been +effaced. He put the lamp on the bureau, and looked vacantly about him. +On the cushion was pinned a note. He recognized Ruth's writing, and +opened it mechanically. + +There were only three lines: + + I must see you again before I leave. Be sure to come to-night. + +The words scarcely carried a meaning to him. It was her brother that +had shot the judge--the brother whom she had defended and protected +all her life. It would kill her when she knew. And he, Sandy Kilday, +was the only one who suspected the truth. A momentary temptation +seized him to hold his peace; if Ricks were caught, it would be time +enough to tell what he knew; if he escaped, one more stain on his name +might not matter. + +But Carter, the coward, where was he? It was his place to speak. Would +he let Ricks bear his guilt and suffer the blame? Such burning rage +against him rose in Sandy that he paced the room in fury. + +Then he re-read Ruth's note and again he hesitated. What a heaven of +promise it opened to him! Ruth was probably waiting for him now. +Everything might be different when he saw her again. + +All his life he had followed the current; the easy way was his way, +and he came back to it again and again. His thoughts shifted and +formed and shifted again like the bits of color in a kaleidoscope. + +Presently his restless eyes fell on an old chromo hanging over the +mantel. It represented the death-bed of Washington. The dying figure +on the bed recalled that other figure down-stairs. In an instant all +the floating forms in his brain assumed one shape and held it. + +The judge must be his first consideration. He had been shot down +without cause, and might pay his life for it. There was but one thing +to do: to find the real culprit, give him up, and take the +consequences. + +Slipping the note in one pocket and the revolver in another, he +hurried down-stairs. + +On the lowest step he found Mrs. Hollis sitting in the dark. Her hands +were locked around her knees, and hard, dry sobs shook her body. + +In an instant he was down beside her, his arms about her. "He isn't +dead?" he whispered fearfully. + +Mrs. Hollis shook her head. "He hasn't moved an inch or spoken since +we put him on the bed. Are you going with the men?" + +"I'm going to town now," said Sandy, evasively. + +She rose and caught him by the arm. Her eyes were fierce with +vindictiveness. + +"Don't let them stop till they've caught him, Sandy. I hope they will +hang him to-night!" + +A movement in the sick-room called her within, and Sandy hurried out +to the buggy, which was still standing at the gate. + +He lighted the lantern and, throwing the robe across his knees, +started for town. The intense emotional strain under which he had +labored since noon, together with fatigue, was beginning to play +tricks with his nerves. Twice he pulled in his horse, thinking he +heard voices in the wood. The third time he stopped and got out. At +infrequent intervals a groan broke the stillness. + +He climbed the snake-fence and beat about among the bushes. The groan +came again, and he followed the sound. + +At the foot of a tall beech-tree a body was lying face downward. He +held his lantern above his head and bent over it. It was a man, and, +as he tried to turn him over, he saw a slight red stain on the snow +beneath his mouth. The figure, thus roused, stirred and tried to sit +up. As he did so, the light from Sandy's lantern fell full on the +dazed and swollen face of Carter Nelson. The two faced each other for +a space, then Sandy asked him sharply what he did there. + +"I don't know," said Carter, weakly, sinking back against the tree. +"I'm sick. Get me some whisky." + +"Wake up!" said Sandy, shaking him roughly. "This is Kilday--Sandy +Kilday." + +Carter's eyes were still closed, but his lip curled contemptuously. +"_Mr._ Kilday," he said, and smiled scornfully. "The least said about +_Mr._ Kilday the better." + +Sandy laid a heavy hand on his shoulder. + +"Nelson, listen! Do you remember going out to the Junction with +Annette Fenton?" + +"That's nobody's business but mine. I'll shoot the--" + +"Do you remember coming home on the train?" + +Carter's stupid, heavy eyes were on Sandy now, and he was evidently +trying to understand what he was saying. "Home on the train? Yes; I +came home on train." + +"And afterward?" demanded Sandy, kneeling before him and looking +intently in his eyes. + +"Gus Heyser's saloon, and then--" + +"And then?" repeated Sandy. + +Carter shook his head and looked about him bewildered. + +"Where am I now I What did you bring me here for?" + +"Look me straight, Nelson," said Sandy. "Don't you move your eyes. You +left Gus Heyser's and came out the pike to the Hollis farm, didn't +you?" + +"Hollis farm?" Carter repeated vaguely. "No; I didn't go there." + +"You went up to the window and waited. Don't you remember the snow on +the ground and the light inside the window?" + +Carter seemed struggling to remember, but his usually sensitive face +was vacant and perplexed. + +Sandy moved nearer. "You waited there by the window," he went on with +subdued excitement, for the hope was high in his heart that Carter +was innocent. "You waited ever so long, until a pistol was fired--" + +"Yes," broke in Carter, his lips apart; "a pistol-shot close to my +head! It woke me up. I ran before they could shoot me again. Where was +it--Gus Heyser's? What am I doing here?" + +For answer Sandy pulled Carter's revolver from his pocket. "Did you +have that this afternoon?" + +"Yes," said Carter, a troubled look coming into his eyes. "Where did +you get it, Kilday?" + +"It was found outside Judge Hollis's window after he had been shot." + +"Judge Hollis shot! Who did it?" + +Sandy again looked at the pistol. + +"My God, man!" cried Carter; "you don't mean that I--" He cowered back +against the tree and shook from head to foot. "Kilday!" he cried +presently, seizing Sandy by the wrist with his long, delicate hands, +"does any one else know?" + +Sandy shook his head. + +"Then I must get away; you must help me. I didn't know what I was +doing. I don't know now what I have done. Is he--" + +"He's not dead yet." + +Carter struggled to his feet, but a terrible attack of coughing seized +him, and he sank back exhausted. The handkerchief which he held to his +mouth was red with blood. + +Sandy stretched him out on the snow, where he lay for a while with +closed eyes. He was very white, and his lips twitched convulsively. + +A vehicle passed out the road, and Sandy started up. He must take some +decisive step at once. The men were probably waiting in the square for +him now. He must stop them at any cost. + +Carter opened his eyes, and the terror returned to them. + +"Don't give me up, Kilday!" he cried, trying to rise. "I'll pay you +anything you ask. It was the drink. I didn't know what I was doing. +For the Lord's sake, don't give me up! I haven't long to live at +best. I can't disgrace the family. I--I am the last of the line--last +Nelson--" His voice was high and uncontrolled, and his eyes were +glassy and fixed. + +Sandy stood before him in an agony of indecision. He had fought it out +with himself there in his bedroom, and all personal considerations +were swept from his mind. All he wanted now was to do right. But what +was right? He groped blindly about in the darkness of his soul, and no +guiding light showed him the way. + +With a groan, he knotted his fingers together and prayed the first +real prayer his heart had ever uttered. It was wordless and formless, +just an inarticulate cry for help in the hour of need. + +The answer came when he looked again at Carter. Something in the +frenzied face brought a sudden recollection to his mind. + +"We can't judge him by usual standards; he's bearing the sins of his +fathers. We have to look on men like that as we do on the insane." +They were the judge's own words. + +Sandy jumped to his feet, and, helping and half supporting Carter, +persuaded him to go out to the buggy, promising that he would not give +him up. + +At the Willowvale gate he led the horse into the avenue, then turned +and ran at full speed into town. As he came into the square he found +only a few groups shivering about the court-house steps, discussing +the events of the day. + +"Where's the crowd?" he cried breathless. "Aren't they going to start +from here?" + +An old negro pulled off his cap and grinned. + +"Dey been gone purty near an hour, Mist' Sandy. I 'spec' dey's got dat +low-down rascal hanged by now." + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +AT WILLOWVALE + + +There was an early tea at Willowvale that evening, and Ruth sat at the +big round table alone. Mrs. Nelson always went to bed when the time +came for packing, and Carter was late, as usual. + +Ruth was glad to be alone. She had passed through too much to be able +to banish all trace of the storm. But though her eyes were red from +recent tears, they were bright with anticipation. Sandy was coming +back. That fact seemed to make everything right. + +She leaned her chin on her palm and tried to still the beating of her +heart. She knew he would come. Irresponsible, hot-headed, impulsive +as he was, he had never failed her. She glanced impatiently at the +clock. + +"Miss Rufe, was you ever in love?" It was black Rachel who broke in +upon her thoughts. She was standing at the foot of the table, her +round, good-humored face comically serious. + +"No-yes. Why, Rachel?" stammered Ruth. + +"I was just axin'," said Rachel, "'cause if you been in love, you'd +know how to read a love-letter, wouldn't you, Miss Rufe?" + +Ruth smiled and nodded. + +"I got one from my beau," went on Rachel, in great embarrassment; "but +dat nigger knows I can't read." + +"Where does he live?" asked Ruth. + +"Up in Injianapolis. He drives de hearse." + +Ruth suppressed a smile. "I'll read the love-letter for you," she +said. + +Rachel sat down on the floor and began taking down her hair. It was +divided into many tight braids, each of which was wrapped with a bit +of shoe-string. From under the last one she took a small envelope and +handed it to Ruth. + +"Dat's it," she said. "I was so skeered I'd lose it I didn't trust it +no place 'cept in my head." + +Ruth unfolded the note and read: + + "DEAR RACHEL: I mean biznis if you mean biznis send me fore + dollars to git a devorce. + + "_George_." + +Rachel sat on the floor, with her hair standing out wildly and anxiety +deepening on her face. + +"I ain't got but three dollars," she said. + +"I was gwine to buy my weddin' dress wif dat." + +"But, Rachel," protested Ruth, in laughing remonstrance, "he has one +wife." + +"Yes,'m. Pete Lawson ain't got no wife; but he ain't got but one arm, +neither. Whicht one would you take, Miss Rufe?" + +"Pete," declared Ruth. "He's a good boy, what there is of him." + +"Well, I guess I better notify him to-night," sighed Rachel; but she +held the love-letter on her knee and regretfully smoothed its crumpled +edges. + +Ruth pushed back her chair from the table and crossed the wide hall to +the library. + +It was a large room, with heavy wainscoting, above which simpered or +frowned a long row of her ancestors. + +She stepped before the one nearest her and looked at it long and +earnestly. The face carried no memory with it, though it was her +father. It was the portrait of a handsome man in uniform, in the full +bloom of a dissipated youth. Her mother had seldom spoken of him, and +when she did her eyes filled with tears. + +A few feet farther away hung a portrait of her grandfather, brave in a +high stock and ruffled shirt, the whole light of a bibulous past +radiating from the crimson tip of his incriminating nose. + +Next him hung Aunt Elizabeth, supercilious, arrogant, haughty. Ruth +recalled a tragic day of her past when she was sent to bed for +climbing upon the piano and pasting a stamp on the red-painted lips. + +She glanced down the long line: velvets, satins, jewels, and uniforms, +and, above them all, the same narrow face, high-arched nose, brilliant +dark eyes, and small, weak mouth. + +On the table was a photograph of Carter. Ruth sighed as she passed it. +It was a composite of all the grace, beauty, and weakness of the +surrounding portraits. + +She went to the fire and, sitting down on an ottoman, took two +pictures from the folds of her dress. One was a miniature in a small +old-fashioned locket. It was a grave, sweet, motherly face, singularly +pure and childlike in its innocence. Ruth touched it with reverent +fingers. + +"They say I am like her," she whispered to herself. + +Then she turned to the other picture in her lap. It was a cheap +photograph with an ornate border. Posed stiffly in a photographer's +chair, against a background which represented a frightful storm at +sea, sat Sandy Kilday. His feet were sadly out of focus, and his head +was held at an impossible angle by the iron rest which stood like a +half-concealed skeleton behind him. He wore cheap store-clothes, and a +turn-down collar which rested upon a ready-made tie of enormous +proportions. It was a picture he had had taken in his first new +clothes soon after coming to Clayton. Ruth had found it in an old book +of Annette's. + +How crude and ludicrous the awkward boy looked beside the elegant +figures on the walls about her! She leaned nearer the fire to get the +light on the face, then she smiled with a sudden rush of tenderness. + +The photographer had done his worst for the figure, but even an +unskilled hand and a poor camera had not wholly obliterated the +fineness of the face. Spirit, honor, and strength were all there. The +eyes that met hers were as fine and fearless as her own, and the +honest smile that hovered on his lips seemed to be in frank amusement +at his own sorry self. + +Ruth turned to see that the door was closed, then she put the picture +to her cheek, which was crimson in the firelight, and with hesitating +shyness gradually drew it to her lips and held it there. + +A noise of wheels in the avenue brought her to her feet with a little +start of joy. He had come, and she was possessed of a sudden desire to +run away. But she waited, with glad little tremors thrilling her and +her heart beating high. She was sure she heard wheels. She went to the +window, and, shading her eyes, looked out. A buggy was standing at the +gate, but no one got out. + +A sudden apprehension seized her, and she hurried into the hail and +opened the front door. + +"Carter," she called softly out into the night--"Carter, is it you?" + +There was no answer, and she came back into the hall and closed the +door. On each side of the door was a panel of leaded glass, and she +pressed her face to one of the little square panes, and peered +anxiously out. The light from the newel-post behind her emphasized the +darkness, so that she could distinguish only the dim outline of the +buggy. + +Twice she touched the knob before she turned it again; then she +resolutely gathered her long white dress in her hand, and passed down +the broad stone steps. The wind blew sharply against her, and the +pavement was cold to her slippered feet. + +"Carter," she called again and again--"Carter, is it you?" + +At the gate her scant supply of courage failed. Some one was in the +buggy, half lying, half sitting, with his face turned from her. She +looked back to the light in the cabin, where the servants would hear +if she called. Then the thought of any one else seeing Carter as she +had seen him before drove the fear back, and she resolutely opened the +gate and went forward. + +At her first touch Carter started up wildly and pushed her from him. +"You said you wouldn't give me up; you promised," he said. + +"I know it, Carter. I'll help you, dear. Don't be so afraid! Nobody +shall see you. Put your arm on my shoulder--there! Step down a little +farther!" + +With all her slight strength she supported and helped him, the keen +wind blowing her long, thin dress about them both, and the lace +falling back from her arms, leaving them bare to the elbow. + +Half-way up the walk he broke away from her and cried out: "I'll have +to go away. It's dangerous for me to stay here an hour." + +"Yes, Carter dear, I know. The doctor says it's the climate. We are +going early in the morning. Everything's packed. See how cold I am +getting out here! You'll come in with me now, won't you?" + +Coaxing and helping him, she at last succeeded in getting him to bed. +The blood on his handkerchief told its own story. + +She straightened the room, drew a screen between him and the fire, +and then went to the bed, where he had already fallen into a deep +sleep. Sinking on her knees beside him, she broke into heavy, silent +sobs. The one grief of her girlhood had been the waywardness of her +only brother. From childhood she had stood between him and blame, +shielding him, helping him, loving him. She had fought valiantly +against his weakness, but her meager strength had been pitted against +the accumulated intemperance of generations. + +She chafed his thin wrists, which her fingers could span; she tenderly +smoothed his face as it lay gray against the pillows; then she caught +up his hand and held it to her breast with a quick, motherly gesture. + +"Take him soon, God!" she prayed. "He is too weak to try any more." + +At midnight she slipped away to her own room and took off the dainty +gown she had put on for Sandy's coming. + +For long hours she lay in her great canopied bed with wide-open eyes. +The night was a noisy one, for there was a continual passing on the +road, and occasional shouts came faintly to her. + +With heavy heart she lay listening for some sound from Carter's room. +She was glad he was home. It was worse to sit up in bed and listen for +the wheels to turn in at the gate, to start at every sound on the +road, and to wait and wait through the long night. She could scarcely +remember the time when she had not waited for Carter at night. + +Once, long ago, she had confided her secret to one of her uncles, and +he had laughed and told her that boys would be boys. After that she +had kept things to herself. + +There was but one other person in the world to whom she had spoken, +and that was Sandy Kilday. As she looked back it seemed to her there +was nothing she had withheld from Sandy Kilday. Nothing? Sandy's face, +as she had last seen it, despairing, reckless, hopeless, rose before +her. But she had asked him to come back, she was ready to surrender, +she could make him understand if she could only see him. + +Why had he not come? The question multiplied itself into numerous +forms and hedged her in. Was he too angry to forgive her? Had her +seeming indifference at last killed his love? Why had he not sent her +a note or a message? He knew that she was to leave on the early train, +that there would be no chance to speak with her alone in the morning. + +A faint streak of misty light shone through the window. She watched it +deepen to rose. + +By and by Rachel came in to make the fire. She tiptoed to the bed and +peeped through the curtains. + +"You 'wake, Miss Rufe? Dey's been terrible goings on in town last +night! Didn't you hear de posse goin' by?" + +"What was it? What's the matter?" cried Ruth, sitting up in bed. + +"Dat jail-bird Wilson done shot Jedge Hollis. 'Mos' ebery man in town +went out to ketch him. Dey been gone all night." + +"Sandy went with them," thought Ruth, in sudden relief; then she +thought of the judge. + +"Oh, Rachel, is he dangerously hurt? Will he die?" + +"De las' accounts was mighty bad. Dey say de big doctors is a-comin' +up from de city to prode fer de bullet." + +"What made him shoot him? How could he be so cruel, when the dear old +judge is so good and kind to everybody?" + +"Jes pore white trash, dat Wilson," said Rachel, contemptuously, as +she coaxed the kindling into a blaze. + +Ruth got up and dressed. Beneath the deep concern which she felt was +the flutter of returning hope. Sandy's first duty was to his +benefactor. She knew how he loved the old judge and with what prompt +action he would avenge his wrong. She could trust him to follow honor +every time. + +"Some ob 'em 's comin' back now!" cried Rachel from the window. "I's +gwine down to de road an' ax 'em if dey ketched him." + +"Rachel, wait! I'm coming, too. Give me my traveling-coat--there on +the trunk. What can I put on my head? My hat is in auntie's room." + +Rachel, rummaging in the closet, brought forth an old white +tam-o'-shanter. "That will do!" cried Ruth. "Now, don't make any +noise, but come." + +They tiptoed through the house and out into the early morning. It was +still half dark, and the big-eyed poplars watched them suspiciously as +they hurried down to the road. Every branch and twig was covered with +ice, and the snow crackled under their feet. + +"I 'spec' it's gwine be summer-time where you gwine at, Miss Rufe," +said Rachel. + +"I don't care," cried Ruth. "I don't want to be anywhere in the world +except right here." + +"Dey're comin'," announced Rachel. "I hear de hosses." + +Ruth leaned across the top bar of the gate, her figure enveloped in +her long coat, and her white tam a bright spot in the half-light. + +On came the riders, three abreast. + +"Dat's him in de middle," whispered Rachel, excitedly; "next to de +sheriff. I's s'prised dey didn't swing him up--I shorely is. He's +hangin' down his head lak he's mighty 'shamed." + +Ruth bent forward to get a glimpse of the prisoner's face, and as she +did so he lifted his head. + +It was Sandy Kilday, his clothes disheveled, his brows lowered, and +his lips compressed info a straight, determined line. + +Ruth's startled gaze swept over the riders, then came back to him. She +did not know what was the matter; she only knew that he was in +trouble, and that she was siding with him against the rest. In the one +moment their eyes met she sent him her full assurance of compassion +and sympathy. It was the same message a little girl had sent years +ago over a ship's railing to a wretched stowaway on the deck below. + +The men rode on, and she stood holding to the gate and looking after +them. + +"Here comes Mr. Sid Gray," said Rachel. The approaching rider drew +rein when he saw Ruth and dismounted. + +"Tell me what's happened!" she cried. + +He hitched his horse and opened the gate. He, too, showed signs of a +hard night. + +"May I come in a moment to the fire?" he asked. + +She led the way to the dining-room and ordered coffee. + +"Now tell me," she demanded breathlessly. + +"It's a mixed-up business," said Gray, holding his numb hands to the +blaze. "We left here early in the night and worked on a wrong trail +till midnight. Then a train-man out at the Junction gave us a clue, +and we got a couple of bloodhounds and traced Wilson as far as +Ellersberg." + +"Go on!" said Ruth, shuddering. + +"You see, a rumor got out that the judge had died. We didn't say +anything before the sheriff, but it was understood that Ricks wouldn't +be brought back to town alive. We located him in an old barn. We +surrounded it, and were just about to fire it when Kilday came tearing +up on horseback." + +"Yes?" cried Ruth. + +"Well," he went on, "he hadn't started with us, and he had been riding +like mad all night to overtake the crowd. His horse dropped under him +before he could dismount. Kilday jumped out in the crowd and began to +talk like a crazy man. He said we mustn't harm Ricks Wilson; that +Ricks hadn't shot the judge, for he was sure he had seen him out the +Junction road about half-past five. We all saw it was a put-up job; he +was Ricks Wilson's old pal, you know." + +"But Sandy Kilday wouldn't lie!" cried Ruth. + +"Well, that's what he did, and worse. When we tried to close in on +Wilson, Kilday fought like a tiger. You never saw anything like the +mix-up, and in the general skirmish Wilson escaped." + +"And--and Sandy?" Ruth was leaning forward, with her hands clasped and +her lips apart. + +"Well, he showed what he was, all right. He took sides with that +good-for-nothing scoundrel who had shot a man that was almost his +father. Why, I never saw such a case of ingratitude in my life!" + +"Where are they taking him?" she almost whispered. + +"To jail for resisting an officer." + +"Miss Rufe, de man's come fer de trunks. Is dey ready?" asked Rachel +from the hall. + +Ruth rose and put her hand on the back of the chair to steady herself. + +"Yes; yes, they are ready," she said with an effort. "And, Rachel, +tell the man to go as quietly as possible. Mr. Carter must not be +disturbed until it is time to start." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +"THE SHADOW ON THE HEART" + + +Just off Main street, under the left wing of the court-house, lay the +little county jail. It frowned down from behind its fierce mask of +bars and spikes, and boldly tried to make the town forget the number +of prisoners that had escaped its walls. + +In a small front cell, beside a narrow grated window, Ricks Wilson had +sat and successfully planned his way to freedom. + +The prisoner who now occupied the cell spent no time on thoughts of +escape. He paced restlessly up and down the narrow chamber, or lay on +the cot, with his hands under his head, and stared at the grimy +ceiling. The one question which he continually put to the jailer was +concerning the latest news of Judge Hollis. + +Sandy had been given an examining trial on the charge of resisting an +officer and assisting a prisoner to escape. Refusing to tell what he +knew, and no bail being offered, he was held to answer to the grand +jury. For two weeks he had seen the light of day only through the +deep, narrow opening of one small window. + +At first he had had visitors--indignant, excited visitors who came in +hotly to remonstrate, to threaten, to abuse. Dr. Fenton had charged in +upon him with a whole battery of reproaches. In stentorian tones he +rehearsed the judge's kindness in befriending him, he pointed out his +generosity, and laid stress on Sandy's heinous ingratitude. Mr. +Moseley had arrived with arguments and reasons and platitudes, all +expressed in a polysyllabic monotone. Mr. Meech had come many times +with prayers and petitions and gentle rebuke. + +To them all Sandy gave patient, silent audience, wincing under the +blame, but making no effort to defend himself. All he would say was +that Ricks Wilson had not done the shooting, and that he could say no +more. + +A wave of indignation swept the town. Almost the only friend who was +not turned foe was Aunt Melvy. Her large philosophy of life held that +all human beings were "chillun," and "chillun was bound to act bad +sometimes." She left others to struggle with Sandy's moral welfare and +devoted herself to his physical comfort. + +With a clear conscience she carried to her home flour, sugar, and lard +from the Hollises' store-room, and sat up nights in her little cabin +at "Who'd 'a' Thought It" to bake dumplings, rolls, and pies for her +"po' white chile." + +Sandy felt some misgivings about the delicacies which she brought, and +one day asked her where she made them. + +"I makes 'em out home," she declared stoutly. "I wouldn't cook nuffin' +fer you on Miss Sue's stove while she's talkin' 'bout you lak she is. +She 'lows she don't never want to set eyes on you ag'in as long as she +lives." + +"Has the judge asked for me?" said Sandy. + +"Yas, sir; but de doctor he up and lied. He tol' him you'd went back +to de umerversity. De doctor 'lowed ef he tole him de trufe it might +throw him into a political stroke." + +Sandy leaned his head on his hand. "You're the only one that's stood +by me, Aunt Melvy; the rest of them think me a bad lot." + +"Dat's right," assented Aunt Melvy, cheerfully. "You jes orter hear de +way dey slanders you! I don't 'spec' you got a friend in town 'ceptin' +me." Then, as if reminded of something, she produced a card covered +with black dots. "Honey, I's gittin' up a little collection fer de +church. You gib me a nickel and I punch a pin th'u' one ob dem dots to +sorter certify it." + +"Have you got religion yet?" he asked as he handed her some small +change. + +Her expression changed, and her eyes fell. "Not yit," she acknowledged +reluctantly; "but I's countin' on comin' th'u' before long. I's done +j'ined de Juba Choir and de White Doves." + +"The White Doves?" repeated Sandy. + +"Yas, sir; de White Doves ob Perfection. We wears purple calicoes and +sets up wid de sick." + +"Have you seen Miss Annette?" + +"Lor', honey! ain't I tol' you 'bout dat? De very night de jedge was +shot, dat chile wrote her paw de sassiest letter, sayin' she gwine run +off and git married wif dat sick boy, Carter Nelson. De doctor headed +'em off some ways, and de very nex' day what you think he done? He put +dat gal in a Cafolic nunnery convent! Dey say she cut up scan'lous at +fust, den she sorter quiet down, an' 'gin to count her necklace, an' +make signs on de waist ob her dress, an' say she lak it so much she +gwine be a Cafolic nunnery sister herself. Now de doctor's jes +tearin' his shirt to git her out, he's so skeered she'll do what she +says." + +Sandy laughed in spite of himself, and Aunt Melvy wagged her head +knowingly. + +"He needn't pester hisseif 'bout dat. Now Mr. Carter's 'bout to die, +an' you's shut up in jail, she's done turnin' her 'tention on Mr. Sid +Gray. Dey ain't no blinds in de world big enough to keep dat gal from +shinin' her eyes at de boys!" + +"Is Carter about to die?" Sandy had become suddenly grave. + +"Yas, sir; so dey say. He's got somepin' that sounds lak tuberoses. +Him and Mrs. Nelson and Miss Rufe never did git to Californy. Dey +stopped off in Mobile or Injiany, I can't ricollec' which. He took de +fever de day dey lef', an' he ain't knowed nothin' since." + +After Aunt Melvy left, Sandy went to the window and leaned against the +bars. Below him flowed the life of the little town, the men going home +from work, the girls chattering and laughing through the dusk on +their way from the post-office. Every figure that passed, black or +white, was familiar to him. Jimmy Reed's little Skye terrier dashed +down the street, and a whistle sprang to his lips. + +How he loved every living creature in the place! For five years he had +been one of them, sharing their interests, part and parcel of the life +of the community. Now he was an outcast, an alien, as much a stranger +to friendly faces as the lad who had knelt long ago at the window of a +great tenement and had been afraid to be alone. + +"I'll have to go away," he thought wistfully. "They'll not be wanting +me here after this." + +It grew darker and darker in the gloomy room. The mournful voice of a +negro singing in the next cell came to him faintly: + + "We'll hunt no moah fo' de possum and de coon, + On de medder, de hill, an' de shoah. + We'll sing no moah by de glimmer ob de moon, + On de bench by de old cabin doah. + + "De days go by like de shadow on do heart, + Wid sorrer, wha' all wuz so bright; + De time am come when do darkies hab to part-- + Den, my ole Kaintucky home, good night." + +Sandy's arm was against the grating and his head was bowed upon it. +Through all the hours of trial one image had sustained him. It was of +Ruth, as he had seen her last, leaning toward him out of the +half-light, her brown hair blowing from under her white cap and her +great eyes full of wondering compassion. + +But to-night the darkness obscured even that image. The judge's life +still hung in the balance, and the man who had shot him lay in a +distant city, unconscious, waiting for death. Sandy felt that by his +sacrifice he had put the final barrier between himself and Ruth. + +With a childish gesture of despair, he flung out his arms and burst +into a passion of tears. The intense emotional impulse of his race +swept him along like a feather in a gale. His grief, like his joy, +was elemental. + +When the lull came at last, he pressed his hot head against the cold +iron grating, and his thoughts returned again and again to Ruth. He +thought of her tender ministries in the sick room, of her intense love +and loyalty for her brother. His whole soul rose up to bless her, and +the thought of what she had been spared brought him peace. + +Through days of struggle and nights of pain he fought back all +thoughts of the future and of self. + +These times were ever afterward a twilight-place in his soul, hallowed +and sanctified by the great revelation they brought him, blending the +blackness of despair with the white light of perfect love. Here his +thoughts would often turn even in the stress and strain of the daily +life, as a devotee stops on his busy round and steps within the dim +cathedral to gain strength and inspiration on his way. + +The next time Aunt Melvy came he asked for some of his law-books, and +from that on there was no more idling or dreaming. + +Among the volumes she brought was the old note-book in which the judge +had made him jot down suggestions during those long evening readings +in the past. It was full of homely advice, the result of forty years' +experience, and Sandy found comfort in following it to the letter. + +For the first time in his life he learned the power of concentration. +Seven hours' study a day, without diversion or interruption, brought +splendid results. He knew the outline of the course at the university, +and he forged ahead with feverish energy. + +Meanwhile the judge's condition was slowly improving. + +One afternoon Sandy sat at his table, deep in his work. He heard the +key turn in its lock and the door open, but he did not look up. +Suddenly he was aware of the soft rustle of skirts, and, lifting his +eyes, he saw Ruth. For a moment he did not move, thinking she must be +but the substance of his dream. Then her black dress caught his +attention, and he started to his feet. + +"Carter?" he cried--"is he--" + +Ruth nodded; her face was white and drawn, and purple shadows lay +about her eyes. + +"He's dead," she whispered, with a catch in her voice; then she went +on in breathless explanation: "but he told me first. He said, 'Hurry +back, Ruth, and make it right. They can come for me as soon as I can +travel. Tell Kilday I wasn't worth it.' Oh, Sandy! I don't know +whether it was right or wrong,--what you did,--but it was merciful: if +you could have seen him that last week, crying all the time like a +little child, afraid of the shadows on the wall, afraid to be alone, +afraid to live, afraid to die--" + +Her voice broke, and she covered her face with her hands. + +Sandy started forward, then he paused and gripped the chair-back +until his fingers were white. + +"Ruth," he said impatiently, "you'd best be going quick. It'll break +the heart of me to see you standing there suffering, unless I can take +you in me arms and comfort you. I've sworn never to speak the word; +but, by the saints--" + +"You may!" sobbed Ruth, and with a quick, timid little gesture she +laid her hands in his. + +For a moment he held her away from him. "It's not pity," he cried, +searching her face, "nor gratitude!" + +She lifted her eyes, as honest and clear as her soul. + +"It's been love, Sandy," she whispered, "ever since the first." + +[Illustration: "'It's been love, Sandy, ... ever since the first'"] + +Two hours later, when the permit came, Sandy walked out of the jail +into the court-house square. A crowd had collected, for Ruth had told +her story and the news had spread; public favor was rapidly turning in +his direction. + +He looked about vaguely, as a man who has gazed too long at the sun +and is blinded to everything else. + +"I've got my buggy," cried Jimmy Reed, touching him on the arm. "Where +do you want to go?" + +Sandy hesitated, and a dozen invitations were shouted in one breath. +He stood irresolute, with his foot on the step of the buggy; then he +pulled himself up. + +"To Judge Hollis," he said. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +THE PRIMROSE WAY + + +Spring and winter, and spring again, and flying rumors fluttered +tantalizing wings over Clayton. Just when it was definitely announced +that Willowvale was to be sold, Ruth Nelson returned, after a year's +absence, and opened the old home. + +Mrs. Nelson did not come with her. That excellent lady had concluded +to bestow her talents upon a worthier object. In her place came Miss +Merritt, a quiet little sister of Ruth's mother, who proved to be to +the curious public a pump without a handle. + +About this time Sandy Kilday returned from his last term at the +university, and gossip was busy over the burden of honors under which +he staggered, and the brilliance of the position he had accepted in +the city. In prompt contradiction of this came the shining new sign, +"Hollis & Kilday," which appeared over the judge's dingy little +office. + +Nobody but Ruth knew what that sign had cost Sandy. He had come home, +fresh from his triumphs, and burning with ambition to make his way in +the world,--to make a name for her to share, and a record for her to +be proud of. The opportunity that had been offered him was one in a +lifetime. It had taken all his courage and strength and loyalty to +refuse it, but Ruth had helped him. + +"We must think of the judge first, Sandy," she said. "While he lives +we must stay here; there'll be time enough for the big world after a +while." + +So Sandy gave up his dream for the present and tacked the new sign +over the office door with his own hand. + +The old judge watched him from the pavement. "That's right," he said, +rubbing his hands together with childish satisfaction; "that's just +about the best-looking sign I ever saw!" + +"If you ever turn me down in court I'll stand it on its head and make +my own name come first," threatened Sandy; and the judge repeated the +joke to every one he saw that day. + +It was not long until the flying rumors settled down into positive +facts, and Clayton was thrilled to its willow-fringed circumference. +There was to be a wedding! Not a Nelson wedding of the olden times, +when a special car brought grand folk down from the city, and the +townspeople stayed apart and eyed their fine clothes and gay behavior +with ill-concealed disfavor. This was to be a Clayton wedding for high +and low, rich and poor. + +There was probably not a shutter opened in the town, on the morning of +the great day, that some one did not smile with pleasure to find that +the sun was shining. + +Mrs. Hollis woke Sandy with the dawn, and insisted upon helping him +pack his trunk before breakfast. For a week she had been absorbed in +his nuptial outfit, jealously guarding his new clothes, to keep him +from wearing them all before the wedding. + +Aunt Melvy was half an hour late in arriving, for she had tarried at +"Who'd 'a' Thought It" to perform the last mystic rites over a +rabbit's foot which was to be her gift to the groom. + +The whole town was early astir and wore a holiday air. By noon +business was virtually abandoned, for Clayton was getting ready to go +to the wedding. + +Willowvale extended a welcome to the world. The wide front gates stood +open, the big-eyed poplars beamed above the oleanders and the myrtle, +while the thrushes and the redwings twittered and caroled their +greetings from on high. The big white house was open to the sunshine +and the spring; flowers filled every nook and corner; even the +rose-bush which grew outside the dining-room window sent a few +venturesome roses over the sill to lend their fragrance to those +within. + +And such a flutter of expectancy and romance and joy as pervaded the +place! All the youth of Clayton was there, loitering about the grounds +in gay little groups, or lingering in couples under the shadow of the +big porches. + +In the library Judge and Mrs. Hollis did the honors, and presented the +guests to little Miss Merritt, whose cordial, homely greetings +counteracted the haughty disapproval of the portraits overhead. + +Mr. Moseley rambled through the rooms, indulging in a flowing +monologue which was as independent of an audience as a summer brook. + +Mr. Meech sought a secluded spot under the stairway and nervously +practised the wedding service, while Mrs. Meech, tucked up for once in +her life, smiled bravely on the company, and thought of a little green +mound in the cemetery, which Sandy had helped her keep bright with +flowers. + +They were all there, Dr. Fenton slapping everybody on the back and +roaring at his own jokes; Sid Gray carrying Annette's flowers with a +look of plump complacency; Jimmy Reed constituting himself a bureau of +information, giving and soliciting news concerning wedding presents, +destination of wedding journey, and future plans. + +Up-stairs, at a hall window, the groom was living through rapturous +throes of anticipation. For the hundredth time he made sure the ring +was in the left pocket of his waistcoat. + +From down-stairs came the hum of voices mingled with the music. The +warm breath of coming summer stole through the window. + +Sandy looked joyously out across the fields of waving blue-grass to +the shining river. Down by the well was an old windmill, and at its +top a weather-vane. When he spied it he smiled. Once again he was a +ragged youngster, back on the Liverpool dock; the fog was closing in, +and the coarse voices of the sailors rang in his ears. In quick +flashes the scenes of his boyhood came before him,--the days on +shipboard, on the road with Ricks, at the Exposition, at Hollis Farm, +at the university,--and through them all that golden thread of romance +that had led him safe and true to the very heart of the enchanted land +where he was to dwell forever. + +"'Fore de Lawd, Mist' Sandy, ef you ain't fergit yer necktie!" + +It was Aunt Melvy who burst in upon his reverie with these ominous +words. She had been expected to assist with the wedding breakfast, but +the events above-stairs had proved too alluring. + +Sandy's hand flew to his neck. "It's at the farm," he cried in great +excitement, "wrapped in tissue-paper in the top drawer. Send Jim, or +Joe, or Nick--any of the darkies you can find!" + +"Send nuthin'," muttered Aunt Melvy, shuffling down the stairs. "I's +gwine myself, ef I has to take de bridal kerridge." + +Messengers were sent in hot haste, one to the farm and one to town, +while Jimmy Reed was detailed to canvass the guests and see if a white +four-in-hand might be procured. + +"The nearest thing is Mr. Meech's," he reported on his fourth trip +up-stairs; "it's a white linen string-tie, but he doesn't want to take +it off." + +"Faith, and he'll have to!" said Sandy, in great agitation. "Don't he +know that nobody will be looking at him?" + +Annette appeared at a bedroom door, a whirl of roses and pink. + +"What's the m-matter? Ruth will have a f-fit if you wait much longer, +and my hair is coming out of curl." + +"Take it off him," whispered Sandy, recklessly, to Jimmy Reed; and +violence was prevented only by the timely arrival of Aunt Melvy with +the original wedding tie. + +The bridal march had sounded many times, and the impatient guests were +becoming seriously concerned, when a handkerchief fluttered from the +landing and Sandy and Ruth came down the wide white steps together. + +Mr. Meech cleared his throat and, with one hand nervously fidgeting +under his coattail, the other thrust into the bosom of his coat, +began: + +"We are assembled here to-day to witness the greatest and most +time-hallowed institution known to man." + +Sandy heard no more. The music, the guests, the flowers, even his +necktie, faded from his mind. + +A sacred hush filled his soul, through which throbbed the vows he was +making before God and man. The little hand upon his arm trembled, and +his own closed upon it in instant sympathy and protection. + +"In each of the ages gone," Mr. Meech was saying with increasing +eloquence, "man has wooed and won the sweet girl of his choice, and +then, with the wreath of fairest orange-blossoms encircling her pure +brow, while yet the blush of innocent love crimsoned her cheek, led +her away in trembling joy to the hymeneal altar, that their names, +their interests, their hearts, might all be made one, just as two rays +of light, two drops of dew, sometimes meet, to kiss--to part no more +forever." + +Suddenly a loud shout sounded from the upper hall, followed by sounds +like the repeated fall of a heavy body. Mr. Meech paused, and all eyes +were turned in consternation toward the door. Then through the +stillness rang out a hallelujah from above. + +"Praise de Lawd, de light's done come! De darkness, lak de thunder, +done roll away. I's saved at last, and my name is done written in de +Promised Land! Amen! Praise de Lawd! Amen!" + +To part of the company at least the situation was clear. Aunt Melvy, +after seeking religion for nearly sixty years, had chosen this +inopportune time to "come th'u'." + +She was with some difficulty removed to the wash-house, where she +continued her thanksgiving in undisturbed exultation. + +Amid suppressed merriment, the marriage service was concluded, Mr. +Meech heroically foregoing his meteoric finale. + +Clayton still holds dear the memory of that wedding: of the beautiful +bride and the happy groom, of the great feast that was served indoors +and out, and of the good fellowship and good cheer that made it a gala +day for the country around. + +When it was over, Sandy and Ruth drove away in the old town surrey, +followed by such a shower of rice and flowers and blessings as had +never been known before. They started, discreetly enough, for the +railroad-station, but when they reached the river road Sandy drew +rein. Overhead the trees met in a long green arch, and along the +wayside white petals strewed the road. Below lay the river, dancing, +murmuring, beckoning. + +"Let's not be going to the city to-day!" cried Sandy, impulsively. +"Let's be following the apple-blossoms wherever they lead." + +"It's all the same wherever we are," said Ruth, in joyful freedom. + +They turned into the road, and before them, through the trees, lay the +long stretch of smiling valley. + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 14079 *** diff --git a/14079-h/14079-h.htm b/14079-h/14079-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..baa96f5 --- /dev/null +++ b/14079-h/14079-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,5253 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=UTF-8" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Sandy, by Alice Hegan Rice</title> +<style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + P { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + text-indent: 1.25em; + margin-bottom: 1.25em; + } + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + body{margin-left: 8%; + margin-right: 8%; + } + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%;} + .center {text-align: center;} + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem span {display: block; margin: 0; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 2em;} + .poem span.i3 {display: block; margin-left: 3em;} + .poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 4em;} + hr.full { width: 100%; } + a:link {color:blue; + text-decoration:none} + link {color:blue; + text-decoration:none} + a:visited {color:blue; + text-decoration:none} + a:hover {color:red} + pre {font-size: 8pt;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ +</style> +</head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 14079 ***</div> +<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, Sandy, by Alice Hegan Rice</h1> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<table border="0" cellpadding="10"> + <tr> + <td valign="top"> + Note: + </td> + <td align="left"> + Images of the original pages are available through Kentuckiana + Digital Library. See + <a href="http://kdl.kyvl.org/"> + http://kdl.kyvl.org/</a> + </td> + </tr> +</table> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 381px;"><img src= +"images/cover.gif" width="381" height="630" alt= +"Book Cover" /></div> +<p> </p> +<p><!-- Frontispiece --> </p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 444px;"><a name="fp" id= +"fp"></a> <img src="images/frontispc.gif" width="444" height="700" +alt= +"Illustration: Looking up, he saw a slender little girl in a long tan coat and a white tam-o-shanter" /> +</div> +<h1><!-- Title Page --> +SANDY</h1> +<h3>BY</h3> +<h2>ALICE HEGAN RICE</h2> +<h3>AUTHOR OF</h3> +<h3>"MRS. WIGGS OF THE CABBAGE PATCH"</h3> +<p> </p> +<h3>NEW YORK</h3> +<h6>THE CENTURY CO.</h6> +<h3>1905</h3> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<!-- Verso --> +<!-- Dedication --> +<p class="center">TO MY AUNT</p> +<h3>MISS MARY A. HEGAN</h3> +<p class="center">WHO USED TO TELL ME BETTER STORIES</p> +<p class="center">THAN I SHALL EVER WRITE</p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<!-- Table of Contents. --> +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> +<p> </p> +<p style="margin-left: 5em;"><b>CHAPTER</b></p> +<p> </p> +<p style="margin-left: 5em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_I">I THE +STOWAWAY</a></p> +<p style="margin-left: 5em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">II ON +SHIPBOARD</a></p> +<p style="margin-left: 5em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_III">III THE +CURSE OF WEALTH</a></p> +<p style="margin-left: 5em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">IV +SIDE-TRACKED</a></p> +<p style="margin-left: 5em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_V">V SANDY +RETIRES FROM BUSINESS</a></p> +<p style="margin-left: 5em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">VI HOLLIS +FARM</a></p> +<p style="margin-left: 5em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">VII +CONVALESCENCE</a></p> +<p style="margin-left: 5em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">VIII +AUNT MELVY AS A SOOTHSAYER</a></p> +<p style="margin-left: 5em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">IX +TRANSITION</a></p> +<p style="margin-left: 5em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_X">X +WATERLOO</a></p> +<p style="margin-left: 5em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">XI "THE +LIGHT THAT LIES"</a></p> +<p style="margin-left: 5em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_XII">XII +ANTICIPATION</a></p> +<p style="margin-left: 5em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">XIII +THE COUNTY FAIR</a></p> +<p style="margin-left: 5em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">XIV A +COUNCIL OF WAR</a></p> +<p style="margin-left: 5em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_XV">XV HELL +AND HEAVEN</a></p> +<p style="margin-left: 5em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">XVI THE +NELSON HOME</a></p> +<p style="margin-left: 5em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">XVII +UNDER THE WILLOWS</a></p> +<p style="margin-left: 5em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">XVIII +THE VICTIM</a></p> +<p style="margin-left: 5em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIX">XIX THE +TRIALS OF AN ASSISTANT POSTMASTER</a></p> +<p style="margin-left: 5em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_XX">XX THE +IRONY OF CHANCE</a></p> +<p style="margin-left: 5em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXI">XXI IN +THE DARK</a></p> +<p style="margin-left: 5em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXII">XXII AT +WILLOWVALE</a></p> +<p style="margin-left: 5em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIII">XXIII +"THE SHADOW ON THE HEART"</a></p> +<p style="margin-left: 5em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIV">XXIV +THE PRIMROSE WAY</a></p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<h2>LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> +<p> </p> +<p><a href="#fp">"Looking up, he saw a slender little girl in a +long tan coat and a white tam-o-shanter"</a> Frontispiece</p> +<p><a href="#i15">"He sent up yell after yell of victory for the +land of his adoption"</a></p> +<p><a href="#i77">"He smiled away his debt of gratitude"</a></p> +<p><a href="#i173">"Then he forgot all about the steps and counting +time"</a></p> +<p><a href="#i195">"Burning deeds of prowess rioted in his +brain"</a></p> +<p><a href="#i241">"Sandy saw her waver"</a></p> +<p><a href="#i297">"'It's been love, Sandy, ... ever since the +first'"</a></p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<!-- Page 1 (actual book page number)--> +<h2>SANDY</h2> +<!-- Page 2 --> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a> <!-- Page 3 --> +CHAPTER I</h2> +<p>THE STOWAWAY</p> +<p>An English mist was rolling lazily inland from the sea. It half +enveloped the two great ocean liners that lay tugging at their +moorings in the bay, and settled over the wharf with a grim +determination to check, as far as possible, the traffic of the +morning.</p> +<p>But the activity of the wharf, while impeded, was in no wise +stopped. The bustle, rattle, and shouting were, in fact, augmented +by the temporary interference. Everybody seemed in a hurry, and +everybody seemed out of temper, save a boy who lay at full length +on the quay and earnestly <!-- Page 4 --> +studied a weather-vane that was lazily trying to make up its mind +which way to point.</p> +<p>He was ragged and brawny and picturesque. His hands, bronzed by +the tan of sixteen summers, were clasped under his head, and his +legs were crossed, one soleless shoe on high vaunting its nakedness +in the face of an indifferent world. A sailor's blouse, two sizes +too large, was held together at the neck by a bit of red cambric, +and his trousers were anchored to their mooring by a heavy piece of +yellow twine. The indolence of his position, however, was not +indicative of the state of his mind; for under his weather-beaten +old cap, perched sidewise on a tousled head, was a commotion of +dreams and schemes, ambitions and plans, whose activities would +have put to shame the busiest wharf in the world.</p> +<p>"It's your show, Sandy Kilday!" he said, half aloud, with a bit +of a brogue that flavored his speech as the salt flavors the sea +air. "You don't want to be a bloomin' old weather-vane, a-changin' +your mind <!-- Page 5 --> +every time the wind blows. Is it go, or stay?"</p> +<p>The answer, instead of coming, got sidetracked by the train of +thought that descended upon him when he was actually face to face +with his decision. All sorts of memories came rushing pell-mell +through his brain. The cold and hungry ones were the most +insistent, but he brushed them aside.</p> +<p>The one he clung to longest was the earliest and most shadowy of +the lot. It was of a little white house on an Irish heath, and +inside was the biggest fireplace in the world, where crimson flames +went roaring up the big, dark chimney, and where witches and +fairies held high carnival. There was a big chair on each side the +hearth, and between them a tiny red rocker with flowers painted on +the arms of it. That was the clearest of all. There were persons in +the large chairs, one a silent Scotchman who, instinct told him, +must have been his father, and the other—oh, tricky memory +that faltered when he wanted it to be so clear!—was +<!-- Page 6 --> +the maddest, merriest little mother that ever came back to haunt a +lad. By holding tight to the memory he could see that her eyes were +blue like his own, but her hair was black. He could hear the ring +of her laugh as she told him Irish stories, and the soft drone of +her voice as she sang him old Irish songs. It was she who told him +about the fairies and witches that lived up behind the peat-flames. +He remembered holding her hand and putting his cheek against it +when the goblins came too near. Then the picture would go out, like +a picture in a magic-lantern show, and sometimes Sandy could make +it come back, and sometimes he could not.</p> +<p>After that came a succession of memories, but none of them held +the silent father and the merry mother and the little white house +on the heath. They were of new faces and new places, of temporary +homes with relatives in Ireland and Scotland, of various schools +and unceasing work. Then came the day, two years ago, when, goaded +by <!-- Page 7 --> +some injustice, real or imagined, he had run away to England and +struck out alone and empty-handed to care for himself. It had been +a rough experience, and there were days that he was glad to forget; +but through it all the taste of freedom had been sweet in his +mouth.</p> +<p>For three weeks he had been hanging about the docks, picking up +jobs here and there, accommodating any one who wanted to be +accommodated, making many friends and little money. He had had no +thought of embarking until the big English liner <i>Great +Britain</i> arrived in port after breaking all records on her +homeward passage. She was to start on her second trip to-day, and +an hour later her rival, the steamship <i>America</i>, was to take +her departure. The relative merits of the two vessels had been the +talk of the wharf for days.</p> +<p>Sandy had made it a rule in life to be on hand when anything was +happening. He had viewed cricket-matches from tree-tops, had +answered the call of fire at midnight, <!-- Page 8 --> +and tramped ten miles to see the finish of a great regatta. But +something was about to take place which seemed entirely beyond his +attainment. Two hours passed before he solved the problem.</p> +<p>"Takin' the rest-cure, kid?" asked a passing sailor as he shied +a stick at Sandy's shins.</p> +<p>Sandy stretched himself and smiled up at the sailor. It was a +smile that waited for an answer and usually got it—a smile so +brimming over with good-fellowship and confidence that it made a +lover of a friend and a friend of an enemy.</p> +<p>"It's a trip that I'm thinkin' of takin'," he cried blithely as +he jumped to his feet. "Here's the shillin' I owe you, partner, and +may the best luck ye've had be the worst luck that's comin'."</p> +<p>He tossed a coin to the sailor, and thrusting his hands in his +pockets, executed a brief but brilliant <i>pas seul</i>, and then +went whistling away down the wharf. He swung along right cheerily, +his rags fluttering, his <!-- Page 9 --> +chin in the air, for the wind had settled in one direction, and the +weather-vane and Sandy had both made up their minds.</p> +<p>The sailor looked after him fondly. "He's a bloomin' good little +chap," he said to a man near by. "Carries a civil tongue in his +head for everybody."</p> +<p>The man grunted. "He's too off and on," he said. "He'll never +come to naught."</p> +<p>Two days later, the <i>America</i>, cutting her way across the +Atlantic, carried one more passenger than she registered. In the +big life-boat swung above the hurricane-deck lay Sandy Kilday, +snugly concealed by the heavy canvas covering.</p> +<p>He had managed to come aboard under cover of the friendly fog, +and had boldly appropriated a life-boat and was doing light +housekeeping. The apartment, to be sure, was rather small and dark, +for the only light came through a tiny aperture where the canvas +was tucked back. At this end Sandy attended to his domestic +duties.</p> +<p><!-- Page 10 --> +Here were stored the fresh water and hardtack which the law +requires every life-boat to carry in case of an emergency. Added to +these was Sandy's private larder, consisting of several loaves of +bread, a bag of apples, and some canned meat. The other end of the +boat was utilized as a bedroom, a couple of life-preservers serving +as the bed, and his own bundle of personal belongings doing duty as +a pillow.</p> +<p>There were some drawbacks, naturally, especially to an +energetic, restless youngster who had never been in one place so +long before in his life. It was exceedingly inconvenient to have to +lie down or crawl; but Sandy had been used to inconveniences all +his life, and this was simply a difference in kind, not in degree. +Besides, he could steal out at night and, by being very careful and +still, manage to avoid the night watch.</p> +<p>The first night out a man and a girl had come up from the cabin +deck and sat directly under his hiding-place. At first he +<!-- Page 11 --> +was too much afraid of discovery to listen to what they were +saying, but later his interest outweighed his fear. For they were +evidently lovers, and Sandy was at that inflammable age when to +hear mention of love is dangerous and to see a manifestation of it +absolute contagion. When the great question came, his heart waited +for the answer. Perhaps it was the added weight of his unspoken +influence that turned the scale. She said yes. During the silence +that followed, Sandy, unable to restrain his joy, threw his arms +about a life-preserver and embraced it fervently.</p> +<p>When they were gone he crawled out to stretch his weary body. On +the deck he found a book which they had left; it was a green book, +and on the cover was a golden castle on a golden hill. All the rest +of his life he loved a green book best, for it was through this one +that he found his way back again to that enchanted land that lay +behind the peat-flames in the shadowy memory. Early in the morning +he read it, with his <!-- Page 12 --> +head on the box of hardtack and his feet on the water-can. Twice he +reluctantly tore himself from its pages and put it back where he +had found it. No one came to claim it, and it lay there, with the +golden castle shining in the sun. Sandy decided to take one more +peep.</p> +<p>It was all about gallant knights and noble lords, of damsels +passing fair, of tourneys and feasts and battles fierce and long. +Story after story he devoured, until he came to the best one of +all. It told of a beautiful damsel with a mantle richly furred, who +was girt with a cumbrous sword which did her great sorrow; for she +might not be delivered of it save by a knight who was of passing +good name both of his lands and deeds. And after that all the great +knights had striven in vain to draw the sword from its sheath, a +poor knight, poorly arrayed, felt in his heart that he might essay +it, but was abashed. At last, however, when the damsel was +departing, he plucked up courage to ask if he might try; and when +she hesitated <!-- Page 13 --> +he said: "Fair damsel, worthiness and good deeds are not only in +arrayment, but manhood and worship are hid within man's person." +Then the poor knight took the sword by the girdle and sheath and +drew it out easily.</p> +<p>And it was not until then that Sandy knew that he had had no +dinner, and that the sun had climbed over to the other side of the +steamer, and that a continual cheering was coming up from the deck +below. Cautiously he pulled back the canvas flap and emerged like +the head of a turtle from his shell. The bright sunshine dazzled +him for a moment, then he saw a sight that sent the dreams flying. +There, just ahead, was the <i>Great Britain</i> under full way, +valiantly striving to hold her record against the oncoming +steamer.</p> +<p>Sandy sat up and breathlessly watched the champion of the sea, +her smoke-stacks black against the wide stretch of shining waters. +The Union Jack was flying in insolent security from her flagstaff. +There <!-- Page 14 --> +were many figures on deck, and her music was growing louder every +minute. Inch by inch the <i>America</i> gained upon her, until they +were bow and bow. The crowd below grew wilder, cheers went up from +both steamers, the decks were white with the flutter of +handkerchiefs. Suddenly the band below struck up "The Star-Spangled +Banner." Sandy gave one triumphant glance at the Stars and Stripes +floating overhead, and in that moment became naturalized. He leaped +to his feet in the boat, and tearing the blouse from his back, +waved the tattered banner in the face of the vanquished <i>Great +Britain</i>, as he sent up yell after yell of victory for the land +of his adoption.</p> +<!-- Page 15 (Illustration) --> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 700px;"><a name="i15" id= +"i15"></a> <img src="images/026.gif" width="700" height="500" alt= +"Illustration: He sent up yell after yell of victory for the land of his adoption" /> +</div> +<!-- Page 16 (blank facing page) --> +<p>Then he was seized by the ankle and jerked roughly down upon the +deck. Over him stood the deck steward.</p> +<p>"You`re a rum egg for that old boat to hatch out," he said. "I +guess the cap'n will be wantin' to see you."</p> +<p>Sandy, thus peremptorily summoned <!-- Page 17 -->from the +height of patriotic frenzy, collapsed in terror. Had the deck +steward not been familiar with stowaways, he doubtless would have +been moved by the flood of eloquent persuasion which Sandy brought +to bear.</p> +<p>As it was, he led him ruthlessly down the narrow steps, past the +long line of curious passengers, then down again to the steerage +deck, where he deposited him on a coil of rope and bade him stay +there until he was sent for.</p> +<p>Here Sandy sat for the remainder of the afternoon, stared at +from above and below, an object of lively curiosity. He bit his +nails until the blood came, and struggled manfully to keep back the +tears. He was cold, hungry, and disgraced, and his mind was full of +sinister thoughts. Inch by inch he moved closer to the railing.</p> +<p>Suddenly something fell at his feet. It was an orange. Looking +up, he saw a slender little girl in a long tan coat and a white +tam-o'-shanter leaning over the railing. He <!-- Page 18 -->only +knew that her eyes were brown and that she was sorry for him, but +it changed his world. He pulled off his cap, and sent her such an +ardent smile of gratitude that she melted from the railing like a +snowflake under the kiss of the sun.</p> +<p>Sandy ate the orange and took courage. Life had acquired a new +interest.</p> +<p> </p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<!-- Page 19 --> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II</h2> +<p>ON SHIPBOARD</p> +<p>The days that followed were not rose-strewn. Disgrace sat +heavily upon the delinquent, and he did penance by foregoing the +joys of society. Menial labor and the knowledge that he would not +be allowed to land, but would be sent back by the first steamer, +were made all the more unbearable by his first experience with +illness. He had accepted his fate and prepared to die when the +ship's surgeon found him.</p> +<p>The ship's surgeon was cruel enough to laugh, but he persuaded +Sandy to come back to life. He was a small, white, round little +man; and when he came rolling down the deck in his white linen +suit, his face beaming <!-- Page 20 --> +from its white frame of close-cropped hair and beard, he was not +unlike one of his own round white little pills, except that their +sweetness stopped on the outside and his went clear through.</p> +<p>He discovered Sandy lying on his face in the passageway, his +right hand still dutifully wielding the scrub-brush, but his spirit +broken and his courage low.</p> +<p>"Hello!" he exclaimed briskly; "what's your name?"</p> +<p>"Sandy Kilday."</p> +<p>"Scotch, eh?"</p> +<p>"Me name is. The rest of me's Irish," groaned Sandy.</p> +<p>"Well, Sandy, my boy, that's no way to scrub. Come out and get +some air, and then go back and do it right."</p> +<p>He guided Sandy's dying footsteps to the deck and propped him +against the railing. That was when he laughed.</p> +<p>"Not much of a sailor, eh?" he quizzed. "You'll be all right +soon; we have been getting the tail-end of a big nor'wester."</p> +<p>"<!-- Page 21 -->A happy storm it must have been, sir, to wag +its tail so gay," said Sandy, trying to smile.</p> +<p>The doctor clapped him on the back. "You're better. Want +something to eat?"</p> +<p>Sandy declined with violence. He explained his feelings with all +the authority of a first experience, adding in conclusion: "It was +Jonah I used to be after feelin' sorry for; it ain't now. It's the +whale."</p> +<p>The doctor prevailed upon him to drink some hot tea and eat a +sandwich. It was a heroic effort, but Sandy would have done even +more to prolong the friendly conversation.</p> +<p>"How many more days have we got, sir?"</p> +<p>"Five; but there's the return trip for you."</p> +<p>Sandy's face flushed. "If they send me home, I'll be comin' +back!" he cried, clinging to the railing as the ship lurched +forward. "I'm goin' to be an American. I <!-- Page 22 --> +am goin'—" Further declarations as to his future policy were +cut short.</p> +<p>From that time on the doctor took an interest in him. He even +took up a collection of clothes for him among the officers. His +professional services were no longer necessary, for Sandy enjoyed a +speedy recovery from his maritime troubles.</p> +<p>"You are luckier than the rest," he said, one day, stopping on +his rounds. "I never had so many steerage patients before."</p> +<p>The work was so heavy, in fact, that he obtained permission to +get a boy to assist him. The happy duty devolved upon Sandy, who +promptly embraced not only the opportunity, but the doctor and the +profession as well. He entered into his new work with such energy +and enthusiasm that by the end of the week he knew every man below +the cabin deck. So expeditious did he become that he found many +idle moments in which to cultivate acquaintances.</p> +<p>His chosen companion at these times was a boy in the steerage, +selected not for congeniality, <!-- Page 23 --> +but for his unlimited knowledge of all things terrestrial, from the +easiest way of making a fortune to the best way of spending it. He +was a short, heavy-set fellow of some eighteen years. His hair grew +straight up from an overhanging forehead, under which two small +eyes seemed always to be furtively watching each other over the +bridge of his flat snub nose. His lips met with difficulty across +large, irregular teeth. Such was Ricks Wilson, the most +unprepossessing soul on board the good ship <i>America</i>.</p> +<p>"You see, it's this way," explained Ricks as the boys sat behind +the smokestack and Sandy became initiated into the mysteries of a +wonderful game called "craps." "I didn't have no more 'n you've +got. I lived down South, clean off the track of ever'thing. I puts +my foot in my hand and went out and seen the world. I tramps up to +New York, works my way over to England, tramps and peddles, and +gits enough dough to pay my way back. <!-- Page 24 --> +Say, it's bum slow over there. Why, they ain't even on to +street-cars in London! I makes more in a week at home than I do in +a month in England. Say, where you goin' at when we land?"</p> +<p>Sandy shook his head ruefully. "I got to go back," he said.</p> +<p>Ricks glanced around cautiously, then moved closer.</p> +<p>"You ain't that big a sucker, are you? Any feller that couldn't +hop the twig offen this old boat ain't much, that's all I got to +say."</p> +<p>"Oh, it's not the gettin' away," said Sandy, more certain than +ever, now that he was sure of an ally.</p> +<p>"Homesick?" asked Ricks, with a sneer.</p> +<p>Sandy gave a short laugh. "Home? Why, I ain't got any home. I've +just lived around since I was a young one. It's a chance to get on +that I'm after."</p> +<p>"Well, what in thunder is takin' you back?"</p> +<p>"I don't know," said Sandy, "'cep'n' it <!-- Page 25 --> +ain't in me to give 'em the slip now I know 'em. Then there's the +doctor "</p> +<p>"That old feather-bed? O Lord! He's so good he gives me a pain. +Goes round with his mouth hiked up in a smile, and I bet he's as +mean as the "</p> +<p>Before Hicks could finish he found himself inextricably tangled +in Sandy's arms and legs, while that irate youth sat upon him and +pommeled him soundly.</p> +<p>"So it's the good doctor ye'd be after blasphemin' and abusin' +and makin' game of! By the powers, ye'll take it back! Speak one +time more, and I'll make you swaller the lyin' words, if I have to +break every bone in your skin!"</p> +<p>There was an ugly look in Ricks's face as he threw the smaller +boy off, but further trouble was prevented by the appearance of the +second mate.</p> +<p>Sandy hurried away to his duties, but not without an anxious +glance at the upper deck. He had never lost an opportunity, since +that first day, of looking up; but this was the <!-- Page 26 --> +first time that he was glad she was not there. Only once had he +caught sight of a white tam and a tan coat, and that was when they +were being conducted hastily below by a sympathetic stewardess.</p> +<p>But Sandy needed no further food for his dreams than he already +had. On sunny afternoons, when he had the time, he would seek a +secluded corner of the deck, and stretching himself on the boards +with the green book in his hand, would float in a sea of sentiment. +The fact that he had decided to study medicine and become a ship's +surgeon in no wise interfered with his fixed purpose of riding +forth into the world on a cream-white charger in search of a damsel +in distress.</p> +<p>So thrilled did he become with the vision that he fell to making +rhymes, and was surprised to find that the same pair of eyes always +rhymed with skies and they were brown.</p> +<p>Sometimes, at night, a group would gather on the steerage deck +and sing. A <!-- Page 27 --> +black-haired Italian, with shirt open at the throat, would strike a +pose and fling out a wild serenade; or a fat, placid German would +remove his pipe long enough to troll forth a mighty drinking-song. +Whenever the air was a familiar one, the entire circle joined in +the chorus. At such times Sandy was always on hand, singing with +the loudest and telling his story with the best.</p> +<p>"Make de jolly little Irish one to sing by hisself!" called a +woman one night from the edge of the crowd. The invitation was +taken up and repeated on every side. Sandy, laughing and +protesting, was pushed to the front. Being thus suddenly forced +into prominence, he suffered an acute attack of stage fright.</p> +<p>"Chirp up there now and give us a tune!" cried some one behind +him.</p> +<p>"Can't ye remember none?" asked another.</p> +<p>"Sure," said Sandy, laughing sheepishly; "but they all come +wrong end first."</p> +<p>Some one had thrust an old guitar in his <!-- Page 28 --> +hands, and he stood nervously picking at the strings. He might have +been standing there still had not the moon come to his rescue. It +climbed slowly out of the sea and sent a shimmer of silver and gold +over the water, across the deck, and into his eyes. He forgot +himself and the crowd. The stream of mystical romance that flows +through the veins of every true Irishman was never lacking in +Sandy. His heart responded to the beautiful as surely as the echo +answers the call.</p> +<p>He seized the guitar, and picking out the notes with clumsy, +faltering fingers, sang:</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"><span>"Ah! The moment was sad when my love and +I parted,<br /></span> <span class="i2">Savourneen deelish, signan +O!"<br /></span></div> +</div> +<p>His boyish voice rang out clear and true, softening on the +refrain to an indescribable tenderness that steeped the old song in +the very essence of mystery and love.</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"><span>"As I kiss'd off her tears, I was nigh +broken-hearted! <br /></span> <span class="i2">Savourneen +deelish, signan O!"<br /></span></div> +</div> +<p><!-- Page 29 --> +He could remember his mother singing him to sleep by it, and the +bright red of her lips as they framed the words:</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"><span>"Wan was her cheek which hung on my +shoulder;<br /></span> <span>Chill was her hand, no marble was +colder;<br /></span> <span>I felt that again I should never behold +her;<br /></span> <span class="i2">Savourneen deelish, signan +O!"<br /></span></div> +</div> +<p>As the song trembled to a close, a slight burst of applause came +from the cabin deck. Sandy looked up, frowned, and bit his lip. He +did not know why, but he was sorry he had sung.</p> +<p>The next morning the <i>America</i> sailed into New York harbor, +band playing and flags flying. She was bringing home a record and a +jubilant crew. On the upper decks passengers were making merry over +what is probably the most joyful parting in the world. In the +steerage all was bustle and confusion and anticipation of the +disembarking.</p> +<p>Eagerly, wistfully watching it all, stood Sandy, as alert and +distressed as a young <!-- Page 30 --> +hound restrained from the hunt. It is something to accept +punishment gracefully, but to accept punishment when it can be +avoided is nothing short of heroism. Sandy had to shut his eyes and +grip the railing to keep from planning an escape. Spread before him +in brave array across the water lay the promised land and, +like Moses, he was not to reach it.</p> +<p>"That's the greatest city in America," said the ship's surgeon +as he came up to where he was standing. "What do you think of +it?"</p> +<p>"I never seen one stand on end afore!" exclaimed Sandy, +amazed.</p> +<p>"Would you like to go ashore long enough to look about?" asked +the doctor, with a smile running around the fat folds of his +cheeks.</p> +<p>"And would I?" asked Sandy, his eyes flying open. "It's me word +of honor I'd give you that I'd come back."</p> +<p>"The word of a stowaway, eh?" asked the doctor, still +smiling.</p> +<p><!-- Page 31 --> +In a moment Sandy's face was crimson. "Whatever I be, sir, I ain't +a liar!"</p> +<p>The doctor pursed up his lips in comical dismay: "Not so hot, my +man; not so hot! So you still want to be a doctor?"</p> +<p>Sandy cooled down sufficiently to say that it was the one +ambition of his life.</p> +<p>"I know the physician in charge of the City Hospital here in New +York. He's a good fellow. He'd put you through give you work +and put you in the way of going to the Medical School. You'd like +that?"</p> +<p>"But," cried Sandy, bewildered but hopeful, "I have to go +back!"</p> +<p>The doctor shook his head. "No, you don't. I've paid your +passage."</p> +<p>Sandy waited a moment until the full import of the words was +taken in, then he grabbed the stout little doctor and almost lifted +him off his feet.</p> +<p>"Oh! But ain't you a brick!" he cried fervently, adding +earnestly: "It ain't a present you're makin' me, though! I'll pay +it back, so help me bob!"</p> +<p><!-- Page 32 -->At the pier the crowd of immigrants pushed and +crowded impatiently as they waited for the cabin passengers to go +ashore. Among them was Sandy, bareheaded and in motley garb, +laughing and shoving with the best of them, hanging over the +railing, and keeping up a fire of merriment at the expense of the +crowd below. In his hand was a letter of recommendation to the +physician in charge at the City Hospital, and in his inside pocket +a ten-dollar bill was buttoned over a heart that had not a care in +the world. In the great stream of life Sandy was one of the bubbles +that are apt to come to the top.</p> +<p>"You better come down to Kentucky with me," urged Ricks Wilson, +resuming an old argument. "I'm goin' to peddle my way back home, +then git a payin' job at the racetrack."</p> +<p>"Wasn't I tellin' ye that it was a doctor I'm goin' to be?" +asked Sandy, impatiently. Already Ricks's friendship was proving +irksome.</p> +<p><!-- Page 33 --> +On the gang-plank above him the passengers were leaving the ship. +Some delay had arisen, and for a moment the procession halted. +Suddenly Sandy caught his breath. There, just above him, stood "the +damsel passing fair." Instead of the tam-o'-shanter she wore a big +drooping hat of brown, which just matched the curls that were +loosely tied at the back of her neck.</p> +<p>Sandy stood motionless and humbly adored her. He was a born +lover, lavishing his affection, without discrimination or +calculation, upon whatever touched his heart. It surely was no harm +just to stand aside and look. He liked the way she carried her +head; he liked the way her eyes went up a little at the outer +corners, and the round, soft curve of her chin. She was gazing +steadfastly ahead of her down the gang-plank, and he ventured a +step nearer and continued his observations. As he did so, he made a +discovery. The soft white of her cheek was gradually becoming +pinker and pinker; the color which began under <!-- Page 34 --> +her lace collar stole up and up until it reached her eyes, which +still gazed determinedly before her.</p> +<p>Sandy admired it as a traveler admires a sunrise, and with as +little idea of having caused it.</p> +<p>The line of passengers moved slowly forward, and his heart sank. +Suddenly his eyes fell upon the little hand-bag which she carried. +On one end, in small white letters, was: "Ruth Nelson, Kentucky, +U.S.A." He watched her until she was lost to view, then he turned +eagerly back into the crowd. Elbowing his way forward, he seized +Ricks by the arm.</p> +<p>"Hi, there!" he cried; "I've changed me mind. I'm goin' with you +to Kentucky!"</p> +<p>So this impetuous knight errant enlisted under the +will-o'-the-wisp love, and started joyously forth upon his +quest.</p> +<p> </p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<!-- Page 35 --> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III</h2> +<p>THE CURSE OF WEALTH</p> +<p>It is an oft-proved adage that for ten who can stand adversity +there is but one who can stand prosperity. Sandy, alas! was no +exception to any rule which went to prove the frailty of human +nature. The sudden acquisition of ten dollars cast him into a +whirlpool of temptation from which he made little effort to +escape.</p> +<p>"I ain't goin' on to-day," announced Ricks. "I'm goin' to lay in +my goods for peddlin'. I reckon you kin come along of me."</p> +<p>Sandy accepted a long and strong cigar, tilted his hat, and +unconsciously caught Ricks's slouching gait as they went down +<!-- Page 36 -->the street. After all, it was rather pleasant to +associate with sophistication.</p> +<p>"We'll git on the outside of a little dinner," said Ricks; "and +I'll mosey round in the stores awhile, then I'll take you to a show +or two. It's a mighty good thing for you that you got me +along."</p> +<p>Sandy thought so too. He cheerfully stood treat for the rest of +the day, and felt that it was small return for Ricks's +condescension.</p> +<p>"How much you got left?" asked Ricks, that night, as they +stopped under a street light to take stock.</p> +<p>Sandy held out a couple of dollars and a fifty-cent piece.</p> +<p>"Enough to put on the eyes of two and a half dead men," he said +as he curiously eyed the strange money.</p> +<p>"One, two, two and a half," counted Ricks.</p> +<p>"Shillings?" asked Sandy, amazed.</p> +<p>Ricks nodded.</p> +<p>"And have I blowed all that to-day?"</p> +<p><!-- Page 37 --> +"What of it?" asked Ricks. "I seen a bloke onct what lit his cigar +with a bill like the one you had!"</p> +<p>"But the doctor said it was two pounds," insisted Sandy, +incredulously. He did not realize the expense of a personally +conducted tour of the Bowery.</p> +<p>"Well, it's went," said Ricks, resignedly. "You can't count on +settin' up biz with what's left."</p> +<p>Sandy's brows clouded, and he shifted his position restlessly. +"Now I ax yerself, Ricks, what'u'd you do?" he said.</p> +<p>"Me? I don't give advice to nobody. But effen it was me I'd know +mighty quick what to do."</p> +<p>"What?" said Sandy, eagerly.</p> +<p>"Buy a dawg."</p> +<p>"A dog? I ain't goin' blind."</p> +<p>"Lor'! but you're a softhorn," said Ricks, contemptuously. "I +s'pose you'd count on leadin' him round by a pink ribbon."</p> +<p>"Oh, you mean a fighter?"</p> +<p><!-- Page 38 --> +"Sure. My last dawg could do ever'thing in sight. She was so game +she went after herself in a lookin'-glass and got kilt. Oh, they's +money in dawgs, and I knows how to make 'em win ever' time."</p> +<p>Sandy, tired as he was from the day's excitement, insisted upon +going in search of one at once. He already had visions of becoming +the proud owner of a canine champion that would put him immediately +into the position of lighting his cigar with a two-pound note.</p> +<p>The first three weeks of their experience on the road went far +to realize their expectations. The bulldog, which had been bought +in partnership, proved a conquering hero. Through the long summer +days the boys tramped over the country, peddling their wares, and +by night they conducted sundry unlawful encounters wherever an +opponent could be found.</p> +<p>Sandy enjoyed the peddling. It was astonishing what friendly +sociability and confidential intimacy were established by the +<!-- Page 39 --> +sale of blue suspenders and pink soap. He left a line of smiling +testimonials in his wake.</p> +<p>But if the days were proving satisfactory, so much could not be +said of the nights. Even the phenomenal luck that followed his dog +failed to keep up his enthusiasm.</p> +<p>"You ain't a nachrul sport," complained Ricks. "That's your +trouble. When the last fight was on, you set on the fence and +listened at a' ole idiot scrapin' a fiddle down in the valley."</p> +<p>Sandy made a feeble defense, but he knew in his soul it was +so.</p> +<p>Affairs reached a climax one night in an old barn on the +outskirts of a town. A fight was about to begin when Sandy +discovered Ricks judiciously administering a sedative to the +enemy's dog.</p> +<p>Then understanding dawned upon him, and his rage was elemental. +With a valor that lacked the better part of discretion, he hurled +himself through the crowd and fell upon Ricks.</p> +<p><!-- Page 40 --> +An hour later, bruised, bloody, and vanquished, he stumbled along +through the dreary night. Hot with rage and defeat, utterly +ignorant of his whereabouts, his one friend turned foe, he was +indeed in sorry plight.</p> +<p>He climbed over the fence and lay face downward in the long, +cool grass, stretching his bruised and aching body along the +ground. A gentle night wind rustled above him, and by and by a star +peeped out, then another and another. Before he knew it, he was +listening to the frogs and katydids, and wondering what they were +talking about. He ceased to think about Ricks and his woes, and +gave himself up to the delicious, drowsy peace that was all about +him. For, child of nature that he was, he had turned to the only +mother he knew.</p> +<p> </p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<!-- Page 41 --> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2> +<p>SIDE-TRACKED</p> +<p>The next morning, at the nearest railroad station, an irate +cattleman was trying to hire some one to take charge of a car of +live stock which was on its way to a great exposition in a +neighboring city. The man he had counted on had not appeared, and +the train was about due.</p> +<p>As he was turning away in desperation he felt a tug at his +elbow. Looking around, he saw a queer figure with a countenance +that resembled a first attempt at a charcoal sketch from life: one +cheek was larger than the other, the mouth was sadly out of +drawing, the eyes shone out from among the bruises like the sun +from behind the clouds. <!-- Page 42 --> +But if the features were disfigured, the smile was none the less +courageous.</p> +<p>Sandy had found a friendly sympathizer at a neighboring +farm-house, had been given a good breakfast, had made his toilet, +and was ready for the next round in the fight of life.</p> +<p>"I'll be doin' yer job, sir, whatever it is," he said +pleasantly.</p> +<p>The man eyed him with misgiving, but his need was urgent.</p> +<p>"All you have to do is to stay in the car and look after the +cattle. My man will meet you when you reach the city. Do you think +you can do it?"</p> +<p>"Just keep company with the cows?" cried Sandy. "Sure and I +can!"</p> +<p>So the bargain was struck, and that night found him in the great +city with a dollar in his pocket and a promise of work in the +morning.</p> +<p>Tired and sore from the experiences of the night before, he +sought a cheap lodging-house near by. A hook-nosed woman, carrying +<!-- Page 43 --> +a smoking lamp, conducted him to a room under the eaves. It was +small and suffocating. He involuntarily lifted his hands and +touched the ceiling.</p> +<p>"It's like a boilin' potato I feel," he said; "and the pot's so +little and the lid so tight!"</p> +<p>He went to the window, and taking out the nail that held down +the sash, pushed it up. Below him lay the great, bustling city, +cabs and cars in constant motion, long lines of blazing lights +marking the thoroughfares, the thunder of trains in the big +station, and above and below and through it all a dull monotonous +roar, like the faraway unceasing cry of a hungry beast.</p> +<p>He sank on his knees by the window, and a restless, nervous look +came into his eyes.</p> +<p>"It presses in, too," he thought. "It's all crowdin' over me. +I'm just me by myself, all alone." A tear made a white course down +his grimy cheek, then another and another. He brushed them +impatiently away with the cap he still held in his hand.</p> +<p><!-- Page 44 --> +Rising abruptly, he turned away from the window, and the hot air of +the room again smote him. The smoking lamp had blackened the +chimney, and as he bent to turn it down, he caught his reflection +in a small mirror over the table. What the bruises and swelling had +left undone the cheap mirror completed. He started back. Was that +the boy he knew as himself? Was that Sandy Kilday who had come to +America to seek his fortune? He stared in a sort of fascinated +horror at that other boy in the mirror. Before he had been afraid +to be by himself, now he was afraid of himself.</p> +<p>He seized his cap, and blowing out the lamp, plunged down four +flights of steep narrow steps and out into the street. A number of +people were crowding into a street-car marked "Exposition." Sandy, +ever a straw in the current, joined them. Once more down among his +fellow-men, he began to feel more comfortable. He cheerfully paid +his entrance fee with one of the two silver coins in his +pocket.</p> +<p><!-- Page 45 --> +The first building he entered was the art gallery, and the first +picture that caught his eye held him spellbound. He sat before it +all the evening with fascinated eyes, devouring every detail and +oblivious to the curious interest he was attracting; for the huge +canvas represented the Knights of the Round Table, and he had at +last found friends.</p> +<p>All the way back he thought about the picture; it was not until +he reached his room that the former loneliness returned.</p> +<p>But even then it was not for long. A pair of yellow eyes peered +around the window-sill, and a plaintive "meow" begged for +admittance. It was plainly Providence that guided that thin and +ill-treated kitten to Sandy's window. The welcome it received must +have completely restored its shaken faith in human nature. Tired as +he was, Sandy went out and bought some milk. He wanted to establish +a firm friendship; for if he was to stay in this lonely city, he +must have something to <!-- Page 46 -->love, if only a prodigal +kitten of doubtful pedigree.</p> +<p>During the long, hot days that followed Sandy worked faithfully +at the depot. The regular hours and confinement seemed doubly +irksome after the bohemian life on the road.</p> +<p>The Exposition was his salvation. No sacrifice seemed too great +to enable him to get beyond that magic gate. For the "Knights of +the Round Table" was but the beginning of miles and miles of +wonderful pictures. He even bought a catalogue, and, prompted by a +natural curiosity for anything that interested him, learned the +names of the artists he liked best, and the bits of biography +attached to each. He would recite these to the yellow kitten when +he got back to his little hot-box of a room.</p> +<p>One night the art gallery was closed, and he went into another +big building where a crowd of people were seated. At one end of it +was a great pipe-organ, and after a while <!-- Page 47 --> +some one began to play. With his cap tightly grasped in both hands, +he tiptoed down the center aisle and stood breathlessly drinking in +the wonderful tones that seemed to be coming from his own +heart.</p> +<p>"Get out of the way, boy," said an usher. "You are blocking the +aisle."</p> +<p>A queer-appearing lady who looked like a man touched his +elbow.</p> +<p>"Here's a seat," she said in a deep voice.</p> +<p>"Thank you, sir," said Sandy, absently. He scarcely knew whether +he was sitting or standing. He only wanted to be let alone, so that +he could listen to those strange, beautiful sounds that made a +shiver of joy go down his back. Art had had her day; it was Music's +turn.</p> +<p>When the last number had been played, he turned to the queer +lady:</p> +<p>"Do they do it every night?"</p> +<p>She smiled at his enthusiasm: "Wednesdays and Saturdays."</p> +<p>"Say," said Sandy, confidentially, "if <!-- Page 48 --> +you come first do you save me a seat, and I'll do the same by +you."</p> +<p>From that time on he decided to be a musician, and he lived on +two scanty meals a day in order to attend the concerts.</p> +<p>But this exalted scheme of high thinking and plain living soon +became irksome. One day, when his loneliness weighed most heavily +upon him, he was sent with a message out to the switch-station. As +he tramped back along the track he spied a familiar figure ahead of +him. There was no mistaking that short, slouching body with the +peddler's pack strapped on its back. With a cry of joy, Sandy +bounded after Ricks Wilson. He actually hugged him in his joy to be +once more with some one he knew.</p> +<p>Ricks glanced uneasily at the scar above his eye.</p> +<p>Sandy clapped his hand over it and laughed. "It's all right, +Ricks; a miss is as good as a mile. I ain't mad any more. It's +straight home with me you are goin'; <!-- Page 49 --> +and if we can get the two feet of you into me bit of a room, we'll +have a dinner that's fit for a king."</p> +<p>On the way they laid in a supply of provisions, Sandy even going +to the expense of a bottle of beer for Ricks.</p> +<p>The yellow kitten arched her back and showed general signs of +hostility when the stranger was introduced. But her unfriendly +demonstrations were ignored. Ricks was the honored guest, and Sandy +extended to him the full hospitality of the establishment.</p> +<p>"Put your pack on the floor and yerself in the chair, and I'll +get ye filled up in the blink of an eyelash. Don't be mindin' the +cat, Ricks. She's just lettin' on she don't take to you. She give +me the wink on the sly."</p> +<p>Ricks, expanding under the influence of food and drink, became +eloquent. He recounted courageous adventures of the past, and +outlined marvelous schemes for the future, by which he was going to +make a short cut to fame and glory.</p> +<p><!-- Page 50 --> +When it was time for him to go, Sandy heaved a sigh of regret. For +two hours he had been beguiled by Ricks's romances, and now he had +to go back to the humdrum duties at the depot, and receive a sound +rating for his belated appearance.</p> +<p>"Which way might you be goin', Ricks?" he asked wistfully.</p> +<p>"Same place I started fer," said Ricks. "Kentucky."</p> +<p>The will-o'-the-wisp, which had been hiding his light, suddenly +swung it full in the eyes of Sandy. Once more he saw the little +maid of his dreams, and once more he threw discretion to the winds +and followed the vision.</p> +<p>Hastily collecting his few possessions, he rolled them into a +bundle, and slipping the surprised kitten into his pocket, he +gladly followed Ricks once more out into the broad green meadows, +along the white and shining roads that lead over the hills to +Kentucky.</p> +<p> </p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<!-- Page 51 --> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V</h2> +<p>SANDY RETIRES FROM BUSINESS</p> +<p>"This here is too blame slow fer me," said Ricks, one chilly +night in late September, as he and Sandy huddled against a haystack +and settled up their weekly accounts.</p> +<p>"Fifty-five cents! Now ain't that a' o'nery dab? Here's a +quarter fer you and thirty cents fer me; that's as even as you kin +split it."</p> +<p>"It's the microscopes that'll be sellin'," said Sandy, +hopefully, as he pulled his coat collar about his ears and +shivered. "The man as sold 'em to me said they was a great bargain +entirely. He thought there was money in 'em."</p> +<p>"For him," said Ricks, contemptuously. " <!-- Page 52 --> +It's like the man what gulled us on the penknives. I lay to git +even with him, all right."</p> +<p>"But he give us the night's lodgin' and some breakfast," said +Sandy.</p> +<p>Ricks took a long drink from a short bottle, then holding it +before him, he said impressively: "A feller could do me ninety-nine +good turns, and if he done me one bad one it would wipe 'em all +out. I got to git even with anybody what does me dirty, if it takes +me all my life."</p> +<p>"But don't you forget to remember?"</p> +<p>"Not me. I ain't that kind."</p> +<p>Sandy leaned wearily against the haystack and tried to shelter +himself from the wind. A continued diet of bread and water had made +him sensitive to the changes in the weather.</p> +<p>"This here grub is kinder hard on yer head-rails," said Ricks, +trying to bite through a piece of stale bread. A baker had let them +have three loaves for a dime because they were old and hard.</p> +<p><!-- Page 53 --> +Sandy cast a longing look at Ricks's short bottle. It seemed to +remedy so many ills, heat or cold, thirst or hunger. But the strict +principles applied during his tender years made him hesitate.</p> +<p>"I wish we hadn't lost the kitten," he said, feeling the need of +a more cheerful companion.</p> +<p>"I'm a-goin' to git another dawg," announced Ricks. "I'm sick of +this here doin's."</p> +<p>"Ain't we goin' to be turfmen?" asked Sandy, who had listened by +the hour to thrilling accounts of life on the track, and had +accepted Ricks's ambition as his own.</p> +<p>"Not on twenty cents per week," growled Ricks.</p> +<p>Sandy's heart sank; he knew what a new dog meant. He burrowed in +the hay and tried to sleep, but there was a queer pain that seemed +to catch hold of his breath whenever he breathed down deep.</p> +<p>It rained the next day, and they tramped disconsolately through +village after village.</p> +<p><!-- Page 54 --> +They had oil-cloth covers for their baskets, but their own backs +were soaked to the skin.</p> +<p>Toward evening they came to the top of a hill, from which they +could look directly down upon a large town lying comfortably in the +crook of a river's elbow. The rain had stopped, and the belated +sun, struggling through the clouds, made up for lost time by +reflecting itself in every curve of the winding stream, in every +puddle along the road, and in every pane of glass that faced the +west.</p> +<p>"That's a nobby hoss," said Ricks, pointing down the hill. +"What's the matter with the feller?"</p> +<p>A slight, delicate-looking young man was lying in the road, +between the horse and the fence. As the boys came up he stirred and +tried to rise.</p> +<p>"He's off his nut," said Ricks, starting to pass on; but Sandy +stopped.</p> +<p>"Get a fall?" he asked.</p> +<p>The strange boy shook his head. "I <!-- Page 55 --> +guess I fainted. I must have ridden too hard. I'll be all right in +a minute." He leaned his head against a tree and closed his +eyes.</p> +<p>Sandy eyed him curiously, taking in all the details of his +riding-costume down to the short whip with the silver mounting.</p> +<p>"I say, Ricks," he called to his companion, who was inspecting +the horse, "can't we do somethin' for him?"</p> +<p>Ricks reluctantly produced the short bottle.</p> +<p>"I'm all right," insisted the boy, "if you'll just give me a +lift to the saddle." But his eager eyes followed the bottle, and +before Ricks had returned it to his pocket he held out his hand. "I +believe I will take a drink if you don't mind." He drained the +contents and then handed a coin to Ricks.</p> +<p>"Now, if you'll help me," continued the stranger. "There! Thank +you very much."</p> +<p>"Say, what town is this, anyway?" asked Ricks.</p> +<!-- Page 56 --> +<p>"Clayton," said the boy, trying to keep his horse from +backing.</p> +<p>"Looks like somethin' was doin'," said Ricks.</p> +<p>"Circus, I believe."</p> +<p>"Then I don't blame your nag for wantin' to go back!" cried +Sandy. "Come on, Ricks; let's take in the show!"</p> +<p>Half-way down the hill he turned. "Haven't we seen that fellow +before, Ricks?"</p> +<p>"Not as I knows of. He looked kinder pale and shaky, but you bet +yer life he knowed how to hit the bottle."</p> +<p>"He was sick," urged Sandy.</p> +<p>"An' thirsty," added Ricks, with a smile of superior wisdom.</p> +<p>The circus seemed such a timely opportunity to do business that +they decided to rent a stand that night and sell their wares on the +street corner. Ricks went on into town to arrange matters, while +Sandy stopped in a grocery to buy their supper. His interest in the +show had been of short <!-- Page 57 --> +duration. He felt listless and tired, something seemed to be +buzzing continually in his head, and he shivered in his damp +clothes. In the grocery he sat on a barrel and leaned his head +against the wall.</p> +<p>"What you shivering about?" asked the fat woman behind the +counter, as she tied up his small package.</p> +<p>"I feel like me skeleton was doin' a jig inside of me," said +Sandy through chattering teeth.</p> +<p>"Looks to me like you got a chill," said the fat woman. "You +wait here, and I'll go git you some hot coffee."</p> +<p>She disappeared in the rear of the store, and soon returned with +a small coffee-pot and a cup and saucer. Sandy drank two cups and a +half, then he asked the price.</p> +<p>"Price?" repeated the woman, indignantly. "I reckon you don't +know which side of the Ohio River you're on!"</p> +<p>Sandy made up in gratitude what she declined in cash, and +started on his way. At the corner of Main street and the bridge he +<!-- Page 58 --> +found Ricks, who had rented a stand and was already arranging his +wares. Sandy knelt on the sidewalk and unpacked his basket.</p> +<p>"Only three bars of soap and seventy-five microscopes!" he +exclaimed ruefully. "Let's be layin' fine stress on the +microscopes, Ricks."</p> +<p>"You do the jawin', Sandy. I ain't much on givin' 'em the talk," +said Ricks. "Chuck a jolly at 'em and keep 'em hangin' round."</p> +<p>As dark came on, trade began. The three bars of soap were sold, +and a purple necktie. Sandy saw that public taste must be guided in +the proper direction. He stepped up on a box and began eloquently +to enumerate the diverse uses of microscopes.</p> +<p>At each end of the stand a flaring torch lighted up the scene. +The light fell on the careless, laughing faces in front, on Ricks +Wilson, black-browed and suspicious, in the rear, and it fell full +on Sandy, who stood on high and harangued the crowd. It fell on his +broad, straight shoulders and on his <!-- Page 59 --> +shining tumbled hair; but it was not the light of the torch that +gave the brightness to his eyes and the flush to his cheek. His +head was throbbing, but he felt a curious sense of elation. He felt +that he could stand there and talk the rest of his life. He made +the crowd listen, he made it laugh, he made it buy. He told stories +and sang songs, he coaxed and persuaded, until only a few +microscopes were left and the old cigar-box was heavy with +silver.</p> +<p>"Step right up and take a look at a fly's leg! Every one ought +to have a microscope in his home. When you get hard up it will make +a dime look like a dollar, and a dollar like a five-dollar gold +piece. Step right up! I ain't kiddin' you. Five cents for two +looks, and fifteen for the microscope."</p> +<p>Suddenly he faltered. At the edge of the crowd he had recognized +two faces. They were sensitive slender faces, strangely alike in +feature and unlike in expression. The young horseman of the +afternoon was <!-- Page 60 --> +impatiently pushing his way through the crowd, while close behind +him was a dainty girl with brown eyes slightly lifted at the outer +corners, who held back in laughing wonder to watch the scene.</p> +<p>"Ricks," said Sandy, lowering his voice unsteadily, "is this +Kentucky?"</p> +<p>"Yep; we crossed the line to-day."</p> +<p>"I can't talk no more," said Sandy. "You'll have to be doin' it. +I'm sick."</p> +<p>It was not only the fever that was burning in his veins, and +making him bury his hot head in his hands and wish he had never +been born. It was shame and humiliation, and all because of the +look on the face of the girl at the edge of the crowd. He sat in +the shadow of the big box and fought his fight. The coffee and the +excitement no longer kept him up; he was faint, and his breath came +short. Above him he heard Ricks's rasping voice still talking to +the few customers who were left. He knew, without glancing up, just +how Ricks looked when he said the words; he knew <!-- Page 61 --> +how his teeth pushed his lips back, and how his restless little +eyes watched everything at once. A sudden fierce repulsion swept +over him for peddling, for Ricks, for himself.</p> +<p>"And to think," he whispered, with a sob in his throat, "that I +can't ever speak to a girl like that!"</p> +<p>Ricks, jubilant over the success of the evening, decided to +follow the circus, which was to be in the next town on the +following day.</p> +<p>"It ain't fur," he said. "We kin push on to-night and be ready +to open early in the morning."</p> +<p>Sandy, miserable in body and spirit, mechanically obeyed +instructions. His head was getting queerer all the time, and he +could not remember whether it was day or night. About a mile from +Clayton he sank down by the road.</p> +<p>"Say, Ricks," he said abruptly; "I'm after quittin' +peddlin'."</p> +<p>"What you goin' to do?"</p> +<!-- Page 62 --> +<p>"I'm goin' to school."</p> +<p>If Sandy had announced his intention of putting on baby clothes +and being wheeled in a perambulator, Ricks could not have been more +astonished.</p> +<p>"What?" he asked in genuine doubt.</p> +<p>"'Cause I want to be the right sort," burst out Sandy, +passionately. "This ain't the way you get to be the right +sort."</p> +<p>Ricks surveyed him contemptuously. "Look-a here, are you comin' +along of me or not?"</p> +<p>"I can't," said Sandy, weakly.</p> +<p>Ricks shifted his pack, and with never a parting word or a +backward look he left his business partner of three months lying by +the roadside, and tramped away in the darkness.</p> +<p>Sandy started up to follow him; he tried to call, but he had no +strength. He lay with his face on the road and talked. He knew +there was nobody to listen, but still he kept on, softly talking +about microscopes and pink soap, crying out again and again +<!-- Page 63 --> +that he couldn't ever speak to a girl like that.</p> +<p>After a long while somebody came. At first he thought he must +have gone back to the land behind the peat-flames, for it was a +great black witch who bent over him, and he instinctively felt +about in the grass for the tender, soft hand which he used to press +against his cheek. He found instead the hand of the witch herself, +and he drew back in terror.</p> +<p>"Fer de Lawd sake, honey, what's de matter wif you?" asked a +kindly voice. Sandy opened his eyes. A tall old negro woman bent +over him, her head tied up in a turban, and a shawl about her +shoulders.</p> +<p>"Did you git runned over?" she asked, peering down at him +anxiously.</p> +<p>Sandy tried to explain, but it was all the old mixture of soap +and microscopes and never being able to speak to her. He knew he +was talking at random, but he could not say the things he +thought.</p> +<p>"Where'd you come from, boy?"</p> +<!-- Page 64 --> +<p>"Curragh Chase, Limerick," murmured Sandy.</p> +<p>"'Fore de Lawd, he's done been cunjered!" cried the old woman, +aghast. "I'll git it outen of you, chile. You jus' come home wif +yer Aunt Melvy; she'll take keer of you. Put yer arm on my +shoulder; dat's right. Don't you mind where you gwine at. I got yer +bundle. It ain't fur. Hit's dat little house a-hangin' on de side +of de hill. Dey calls it 'Who'd 'a' Thought It,' 'ca'se you nebber +would 'a' thought of puttin' a house dere. Dat's right; lean on yer +mammy. I'll git dem old cunjers outen you."</p> +<p>Thus encouraged and supported, Sandy stumbled on through the +dark, up a hillside that seemed never to end, across a bridge, then +into a tiny log cabin, where he dropped exhausted.</p> +<p>Off and on during the night he knew that there was a fire in the +room, and that strange things were happening to him. But it was all +so queer and unnatural that he did not know where the dreams left +off and the <!-- Page 65 --> +real began. He was vaguely conscious of his left foot being tied to +the right bedpost, of a lock of his hair being cut off and burned +on the hearth, and of a low monotonous chant that seemed to rise +and fall with the flicker of the flames. And when he cried out with +the pain in his sleep, a kindly black face bent over him, and the +chant changed into a soothing murmur:</p> +<p>"Nebber you min', sonny; Aunt Melvy gwine git dem cunjers out. +She gwine stay by you. You hol' on to her han', an' go to sleep; +she'll git dem old cunjers out."</p> +<p> </p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<!-- Page 66--> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI</h2> +<p>HOLLIS FARM</p> +<p>Clayton was an easy-going, prosperous old town which, in the +enthusiasm of youth, had started to climb the long hill to the +north, but growing indolent with age, had decided instead to go +around.</p> +<p>Main street, broad and shady under an unbroken arch of maple +boughs, was flanked on each side by "Back street," the generic term +applied to all the parallel streets. The short cross-streets were +designated by the most direct method: "the street by the Baptist +church," "the street by Dr. Fenton's," "the street going out to +Judge Hollis's," or "the street where Mr. Moseley used to live." In +the heart of the <!-- Page 67 --> +town was the square, with the gray, weather-beaten court-house, the +new and formidable jail, the post-office and church.</p> +<p>For twenty years Dr. Fenton's old high-seated buggy had jogged +over the same daily course. It started at nine o'clock and passed +with never-varying regularity up one street and down another. When +any one was ill a sentinel was placed at the gate to hail the +doctor, who was as sure to pass as the passenger-train. It was a +familiar joke in Clayton that the buggy had a regular track, and +that the wheels always ran in the same rut. Once, when Carter +Nelson had taken too much egg-nog and his aunt thought he had +spinal meningitis, the usual route had been reversed, and again +when the blacksmith's triplets were born. But these were especial +occasions. It was a matter for investigation when the doctor's +buggy went over the bridge before noon.</p> +<p>"Anybody sick out this way?" asked the miller.</p> +<p>The doctor stopped the buggy to explain.</p> +<p><!-- Page 68 --> +He was a short, fat man dressed in a suit of Confederate gray. The +hand that held the reins was minus two fingers, his willing +contribution to the Lost Cause, which was still to him the great +catastrophe of all history. His whole personality was a bristling +arsenal of prejudices. When he spoke it was in quick, short +volleys, in a voice that seemed to come from the depths of a +megaphone.</p> +<p>"Strange boy sick at Judge Hollis's. How's trade?"</p> +<p>"Fair to middlin'," answered the miller. "Do you reckon that +there boy has got anything ketchin'?"</p> +<p>"Catching?" repeated the doctor savagely. "What if he has?" he +demanded. "Two epidemics of typhoid, two of yellow fever, and one +of smallpox that's my record, sir!"</p> +<p>"Looks like my children will ketch a fly-bite," said the miller, +apologetically.</p> +<p>A little farther on the doctor was stopped again this time +by a maiden in a pink-and-white <!-- Page 69 --> +gingham, with a mass of light curls bobbing about her face.</p> +<p>"Dad!" she called as she scrambled over the fence. "Where you +g-going, dad?"</p> +<p>The doctor flapped the lines nervously and tried to escape, but +she pursued him madly. Catching up with the buggy, she pulled +herself up on the springs and thrust an impudent, laughing face +through the window at the back.</p> +<p>"Annette," scolded her father, "aren't you ashamed? Fourteen +years old, and a tomboy! Get down!"</p> +<p>"Where you g-going, dad?" she stammered, unabashed.</p> +<p>"To Judge Hollis's. Get down this minute!"</p> +<p>"What for?"</p> +<p>"Somebody's sick. Get down, I say!"</p> +<p>Instead of getting down, she got in, coming straight through the +small window, and arriving in a tangle of pink and white at his +side.</p> +<p>The doctor heaved a prodigious sigh. As <!-- Page 70 --> +a colonel of the Confederacy he had exacted strict discipline and +unquestioning obedience, but he now found himself ignominiously +reduced to the ranks, and another Fenton in command.</p> +<p>At Hollis Farm the judge met them at the gate. He was large and +loose-jointed, with the frame of a Titan and the smile of a child. +He wore a long, loose dressing-gown and a pair of slippers +elaborately embroidered in green roses. His big, irregular features +were softened by an expression of indulgent interest toward the +world at large.</p> +<p>"Good morning, doctor. Howdy, Nettie. How are you all this +morning?"</p> +<p>"Who's sick?" growled the doctor as he hitched his horse to the +fence.</p> +<p>"It's a stray lad, doctor; my old cook, Melvy, played the good +Samaritan and picked him up off the road last night. She brought +him to me this morning. He's out of his head with a fever."</p> +<p>"Where'd he come from?" asked the doctor.</p> +<!-- Page 71 --> +<p>"Mrs. Hollis says he was peddling goods up at Main street and +the bridge last night."</p> +<p>"Which one is he?" demanded Annette, eagerly, as she emerged +from the buggy. "Is he g-good-looking, with blue eyes and light +hair? Or is he b-black and ugly and sort of cross-eyed?"</p> +<p>The judge peered over his glasses quizzically. "Thinking about +the boys, as usual! Now I want to know what business you have +noticing the color of a peddler's eyes?"</p> +<p>Annette blushed, but she stood her ground. "All the g-girls +noticed him. He wasn't an ordinary peddler. He was just as smart +and f-funny as could be."</p> +<p>"Well, he isn't smart and funny now," said the judge, with a +grim laugh.</p> +<p>The two men passed up the long avenue and into the house. At the +door they were met by Mrs. Hollis, whose small angular person +breathed protest. Her black hair was arranged in symmetrical bands +which were drawn tightly back from a straight <!-- Page 72 --> +part. When she talked, a gold-capped tooth was disclosed on each +side of her mouth, giving rise to the judge's joke that one was +capped to keep the other company, since Mrs. Hollis's sense of +order and regularity rebelled against one eye-tooth of one color +and the other of another.</p> +<p>"Good morning, doctor," she said shortly; "there's the door-mat. +No, don't put your hat there; I'll take it. Isn't this a pretty +business for Melvy to come bringing a sick tramp up here on +general cleaning-day, too?"</p> +<p>"Aren't all days cleaning-days to you, Sue?" asked the judge, +playfully.</p> +<p>"When you are in the house," she answered sharply. Then she +turned to the doctor, who was starting up the stairs:</p> +<p>"If this boy is in for a long spell, I want him moved somewhere. +I can't have my carpets run over and my whole house smelling like a +hospital."</p> +<p>"Now, Susan," remonstrated the judge, gently, "we can't turn the +lad out. We've <!-- Page 73 --> +got room and to spare. If he's got the fever, he'll have to +stay."</p> +<p>"We'll see, we'll see," said the doctor.</p> +<p>But when he tiptoed down from the room above there was no +question about it.</p> +<p>"Very sick boy," he said, rubbing his hand over his bald head. +"If he gets better, I might take him over to Mrs. Meech's; he can't +be moved now."</p> +<p>"Mrs. Meech!" cried Mrs. Hollis, in fine scorn. "Do you think I +would let him go to that dirty house and with this fever, +too? Why, Mrs. Meech's front curtains haven't been washed since +Christmas! She and the preacher and Martha all sit around with +their noses in books, and never even know that the water-spout is +leaking and the porch needs mopping! You can't tell me anything +about the Meeches!"</p> +<p>Neither of the men tried to do so; they stood silent in the +doorway, looking very grave.</p> +<p>"For mercy sake! what is that in the front lot?" exclaimed Mrs. +Hollis.</p> +<p><!-- Page 74 --> +The doctor had an uncomfortable premonition, which was promptly +verified. One of the judge's friskiest colts was circling madly +about the driveway, while astride of it, in triumph, sat Annette, +her dress ripped at the belt, her hair flying.</p> +<p>"If she don't need a woman's hand!" exclaimed Mrs. Hollis. "I +could manage her all right."</p> +<p>The doctor looked from Mrs. Hollis, with her firm, close-shut +mouth, to the flying figure on the lawn.</p> +<p>"Perhaps," he said, lifting his brows; but he put the odds on +Annette.</p> +<p>That night, when Aunt Melvy brought the lamp into the +sitting-room, she waited nervously near Mrs. Hollis's chair.</p> +<p>"Miss Sue," she ventured presently, "is de cunjers comin' +out?"</p> +<p>"The what?"</p> +<p>"De cunjers what dat pore chile's got. I done tried all de +spells I knowed, but look lak dey didn't do no good."</p> +<p>"He has the fever," said Mrs. Hollis; "<!-- Page 75 --> +and it means a long spell of nursing and bother for me."</p> +<p>The judge stirred uncomfortably. "Now, Sue," he remonstrated, +"you needn't take a bit of bother. Melvy will see to him by day, +and I will look after him at night."</p> +<p>Mrs. Hollis bit her lip and heroically refrained from expressing +her mind.</p> +<p>"He's a mighty purty chile," said Aunt Melvy, tentatively.</p> +<p>"He's a common tramp," said Mrs. Hollis.</p> +<p>After supper, arranging a tray with a snowy napkin and a +steaming bowl of broth, Mrs. Hollis went up to the sick-room. Her +first step had been to have the patient bathed and combed and made +presentable for the occupancy of the guest-chamber. It had been +with rebellion of spirit that she placed him there, but the judge +had taken one of those infrequent stands which she knew it was +useless to resist. She put the tray on a table near the big +four-poster bed, and leaned over to look at the sleeper.</p> +<p><!-- Page 76 --> +Sandy lay quiet among the pillows, his fair hair tumbled, his lips +parted. As the light fell on his flushed face he stirred.</p> +<p>"Here's your supper," said Mrs. Hollis, her voice softening in +spite of herself. He was younger than she had thought. She slipped +her arm under the pillow and raised his head.</p> +<p>"You must eat," she said kindly.</p> +<p>He looked at her vacantly, then a momentary consciousness +flitted over his face, a vague realization that he was being cared +for. He put up a hot hand and gently touched her cheek; then, +rallying all his strength, he smiled away his debt of gratitude. It +was over in a moment, and he sank back unconscious.</p> +<!-- Page 77 (Illustration) --> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 462px;"><a name="i77" id= +"i77"></a> <img src="images/077.gif" width="462" height="700" alt= +"Illustration: He smiled away his debt of gratitude" /></div> +<!-- Page 78 (blank facing page) --> +<p>Through the dreary hours of the night Mrs. Hollis sat by the +bed, nursing him with the aching tenderness that only a childless +woman can know. Below, in the depths of a big feather-bed, the +judge slept in peaceful unconcern, disturbing the silence by a +series of long, loud, and unmelodious snores.</p> +<p> </p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<!-- Page 89 --> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII</h2> +<p>CONVALESCENCE</p> +<p>"Is that the Nelson phaéton going out the road?" asked Mrs. +Hollis as she peered out through the dining-room window one +morning. "I shouldn't be a bit surprised if it was Mrs. Nelson +making her yearly visits, and here my bricks haven't been +reddened."</p> +<p>Sandy's heart turned a somersault. He was sitting up for the +first time, wrapped in blankets and wearing a cap to cover his +close-cropped head. All through his illness he had been tortured by +the thought that he had talked of Ruth, though now wild horses +could not have dragged forth a question concerning her.</p> +<p>"Melvy," continued Mrs. Hollis, as she briskly rubbed the +sideboard with some unsavory <!-- Page 80 --> + furniture-polish, "if Mrs. Nelson does come here, you be sure to +put on your white apron before you open the door; and for pity sake +don't forget the card-tray! You ought to know better than to stick +out your hand for a lady's calling-card. I told you about that last +week."</p> +<p>Aunt Melvy paused in her dusting and chuckled: "Lor', honey, +dat's right! You orter put on airs all de time, wid all de money de +judge is got. He says to me yisterday, says he, 'Can't you 'suade +yer Miss Sue not to be cleanin' up so much, an' not to go out in de +front yard wid dat ole sunbonnet on?'"</p> +<p>"Well, I'd like to know how things would get done if I didn't do +them," exclaimed Mrs. Hollis, hotly. "I suppose he would like me to +let things go like the Meeches! The only time I ever saw Mrs. Meech +work was when she swept the front pavement, and then she made +Martha walk around behind her and read out loud while she was doing +it."</p> +<!-- Page 81 --> +<p>"It's Mr. Meech that's in the yard now," announced Sandy from +the side window. "He's raking the leaves with one hand and +a-reading a book with the other."</p> +<p>"I knew it!" cried Mrs. Hollis. "I never saw such doings. They +say she even leaves the dishes overnight. And yet she can sit on +her porch and smile at people going by, just like her house was +cleaned up. I hate a hypocrite."</p> +<p>Sandy had had ample time to watch the Meeches during his long +convalescence. He had been moved from the spare room to a snug +little room over the kitchen, which commanded a fine view of the +neighbors. When the green book got too heavy to hold, or his eyes +grew too tired to look at the many magazines with which the judge +supplied him, he would lie still and watch the little drama going +on next door.</p> +<p>Mrs. Meech was a large, untidy woman who always gave the +impression of needing to be tucked up. The end of her gray braid +hung out behind one ear, her waist hung out <!-- Page 82 --> +of her belt, and even the buttons on her shoes hung out of the +buttonholes in shameless laziness.</p> +<p>Mr. Meech did not need tucking in; he needed letting out. He +seemed to have shrunk in the wash of life. In spite of the fact +that he was three sizes too small for his wife, to begin with, he +emphasized it by wearing trousers that cleared his shoe-tops and +sleeves half-way to his elbows. But this was only on week-days, for +on Sunday Sandy would see him emerge, expand, and flutter forth in +an ample suit of shiny broadcloth. For Mr. Meech was the pastor of +the Hard-Shell Baptist Church in Clayton, and if his domestic +economy was a matter of open gossip, there was no question +concerning the fact of his learning. It had been the boast of the +congregation for years that Judge Hollis was the only man in town +who was smart enough to understand his sermons. When Mr. Meech +started out in the morning with a book under his arm and one +sticking out of each <!-- Page 83 --> +pocket, Sandy would pull up on his elbow to watch proceedings. He +loved to see fat Mrs. Meech pat the little man lovingly on the head +and kiss him good-by; he loved to see Martha walk with him to the +gate and throw kisses after him until he turned the curve in the +road.</p> +<p>Martha was a pale, thin girl with two long, straight plaits and +a long, straight dress. She went to school in the morning, and when +she came home at noon her mother always hurried to meet her and +kissed her on both cheeks. Sandy had got quite in the habit of +watching for her at the side window where she came to study. He +leaned forward now to see if she were there.</p> +<p>"I thought so!" cried Mrs. Hollis, looking over his shoulder. +"There comes the Nelson phaéton this minute! Melvy, get on +your white apron. I'll wind up the cuckoo-clock and unlock the +parlor door."</p> +<p>"Who is it?" ventured Sandy, with internal tremors.</p> +<p>"Hit's Mrs. Nelson an' her niece, Miss <!-- Page 84 --> +Rufe," said Aunt Melvy, nervously trying to reverse her apron after +tying the bow in the front. "Dey's big bugs, dey is. Dey is +quality, an' no mistake. I b'longed to Miss Rufe's grandpaw; he +done lef' her all his money, she an' Mr. Carter. Poor Mr. Carter! +Dey say he ain't got no lungs to speak of. Ain't no wonder he's +sorter wild like. He takes after his grandpaw, my ole mars'. Lor', +honey, de mint-juleps jus' nachelly ooze outen de pores ob his +grandpaw's skin! But Miss Rufe she ain't like none ob dem Nelsons; +she favors her maw. She's quality inside an' out."</p> +<p>A peal of the bell cut short further interesting revelations. +Aunt Melvy hurried through the hall, leaving doors open behind her. +At the front door she paused in dismay. Before her stood the +Nelsons in calling attire, presenting two immaculate cards for her +acceptance. Too late she remembered her instructions.</p> +<p>"'Fore de Lawd!" she cried in consternation, <!-- Page 85 --> +"ef I ain't done fergit dat pan ag'in!"</p> +<p>Sandy, left alone in the dining-room, was listening with every +nerve a-quiver for the sound of Ruth's voice. The thought that she +was here under the same roof with him sent the blood bounding +through his veins. He pulled himself up, and trailing the blanket +behind him, made his way somewhat unsteadily across the room and up +the back stairs.</p> +<p>Behind the door of his room hung the pride of his soul, a new +suit of clothes, whole, patchless, clean, which the judge had +bought him two days before. He had sat before it in speechless +admiration; he had hung it in every possible light to get the full +benefit of its beauty; he had even in the night placed it on a +chair beside the bed, so that he could put out his hand in the dark +and make sure it was there. For it was the first new suit of +clothes that he remembered ever to have possessed. He had not +intended to wear it until Sunday, <!-- Page 97 --> +but the psychological moment had arrived.</p> +<p>With trembling fingers and many pauses for rest, he made his +toilet. He looked in the mirror, and his heart nearly burst with +pride. The suit, to be sure, hung limp on his gaunt frame, and his +shaven head gave him the appearance of a shorn lamb, but to Sandy +the reflection was eminently satisfying. One thing only seemed to +be lacking. He meditated a moment, then, with some misgiving, +picked up a small linen doily from the dresser, and carefully +folding it, placed it in his breast-pocket, with one corner just +visible.</p> +<p>Triumphant in mind, if weak in body, he slipped down the back +steps, skirted Aunt Melvy's domain, and turned the corner of the +house just as the Nelson phaéton rolled out of the yard. +Before he had time to give way to utter despair a glimmer of hope +appeared on the horizon, for the phaéton stopped, and there +was evidently something the matter. Sandy did not wait for it to be +<!-- Page 87 --> +remedied. He ran down the road with all the speed he could +muster.</p> +<p>Near the gate where the little branch crossed the turnpike was a +slight embankment, and two wheels of the phaéton had slipped +over the edge and were buried deep in the soft earth. Beside it, +sitting indignantly in the water, was an irate lady who had +evidently attempted to get out backward and had taken a sudden and +unexpected seat. Her countenance was a pure specimen of Gothic +architecture; a massive pompadour reared itself above two Gothic +eyebrows which flanked a nose of unquestioned Gothic tendencies. +Her mouth, with its drooping corners, completed the series of +arches, and the whole expression was one of aspiring melancholy and +injured majesty.</p> +<p>Kneeling at her side, reassuring her and wiping the water from +her hands, was Ruth Nelson.</p> +<p>"God send you ain't hurt, ma'am!" cried Sandy, arriving +breathless.</p> +<p>The girl looked up and shook her head <!-- Page 88 --> +in smiling protest, but the Gothic lady promptly suffered a +relapse.</p> +<p>"I am I know I am! Just look at my dress covered with mud, +and my glove is split. Get my smelling-salts, Ruth!"</p> +<p>Ruth, upon whom the lady was leaning, turned to Sandy.</p> +<p>"Will you hand it to me? It is in the little bag there on the +seat."</p> +<p>Sandy rushed to do her bidding. He was rather hazy as to the +object of his search; but when his fingers touched a round, soft +ball he drew it forth and hastily presented it to the lady's Roman +nose.</p> +<p>She, with closed eyes, was taking deep whiffs when a laugh +startled her.</p> +<p>"Oh, Aunt Clara, it's your powder-puff!" cried Ruth, unable to +restrain her mirth.</p> +<p>Mrs. Nelson rose with as much dignity as her draggled condition +would permit. "You'd better get me home," she said solemnly. "I may +be internally injured." <!-- Page 89 --> +She turned to Sandy. "Boy, can't you get that phaéton back on +the road?"</p> +<p>Sandy, whose chagrin over his blunder had sent him to the +background, came promptly forward. Seizing the wheel, he made +several ineffectual efforts to lift it back to the road.</p> +<p>"It is not moving an inch!" announced the mournful voice from +above. "Can't you take hold of it nearer the back, and exert a +little more strength?"</p> +<p>Sandy bit his lip and shot a swift glance at Ruth. She was still +smiling. With savage determination he fell upon the wheel as if it +had been a mortal foe; he pushed and shoved and pulled, and +finally, with a rally of all his strength, he went on his knees in +the mud and lifted the phaéton back on the road.</p> +<p>Then came a collapse, and he leaned against the nearest tree and +struggled with the deadly faintness that was stealing over him.</p> +<!-- Page 90 --> +<p>"Why why, you are the boy who was sick!" cried Ruth, in +dismay.</p> +<p>Sandy, white and trembling, shook his head protestingly. "It's +me bellows that's rocky," he explained between gasps.</p> +<p>Mrs. Nelson rustled back into the phaéton, and taking a +piece of money from her purse, held it out to him.</p> +<p>"That will amply repay you," she said.</p> +<p>Sandy flushed to the roots of his close-cropped hair. A tip, +heretofore a gift of the gods, had suddenly become an insult. +Angry, impetuous words rushed to his lips, and he took a step +forward. Then he was aware of a sudden change in the girl, who had +just stepped into the phaéton. She shot a quick, indignant +look at her aunt, then turned around and smiled a good-by to +him.</p> +<p>He lifted his cap and said, "I thank ye." But it was not to Mrs. +Nelson, who still held the money as they drove out of the +avenue.</p> +<p>Sandy went wearily back to the house. <!-- Page 91 --> +He had made his first trial in behalf of his lady fair, but his +soul knew no elation. His beautiful new armor had sustained +irreparable injury, and his vanity had received a mortal wound.</p> +<p> </p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<!-- Page 92 --> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII</h2> +<p>AUNT MELVY AS A SOOTHSAYER</p> +<p>It was a crisp afternoon in late October. The road leading west +from Clayton ran the gantlet of fiery maples and sumac until it +reached the barren hillside below "Who'd 'a' Thought It." The +little cabin clung to the side of the steep slope like a bit of +fungus to the trunk of a tree.</p> +<p>In the doorway sat three girls, one tall and dark, one plump and +fair, and the third straight and thin. They were anxiously awaiting +the revelation of the future as disclosed by Aunt Melvy's far-famed +tea-leaves. The prophetess kept them company while waiting for the +water to boil.</p> +<p>"He sutenly is a peart boy," she was <!-- Page 93 --> +saying. "De jedge done start him in plumb at de foot up at de +'cademy, an' dey tell me he's ketchin' up right along."</p> +<p>"Wasn't it g-grand in Judge Hollis to send him to school?" said +Annette. "Of course he's going to work for him b-between times. +They say even Mrs. Hollis is glad he is going to stay."</p> +<p>"'Co'se she is," said Aunt Melvy; "dere nebber was nobody come +it over Miss Sue lak he done."</p> +<p>"Father says he is very quick," ventured Martha Meech, a faint +color coming to her dull cheek at this unusual opportunity of +descanting upon such an absorbing subject. "Father told Judge +Hollis he would help him with his lessons, and that he thought it +would be only a little while before he was up with the other +boys."</p> +<p>"Dad says he's a d-dandy," cried Annette. "And isn't it grand +he's going to be put on the ball team and the glee club!"</p> +<p>Ruth rose to break a branch laden with crimson maple-leaves. +"Was he ever here <!-- Page 94 --> +before?" she asked in puzzled tones. "I have seen him somewhere, +and I can't think where."</p> +<p>"Well, I'd never f-forget him," said Annette. "He's got the +jolliest face I ever saw. M-Martha says he can jump that high fence +b-back of the Hollises' without touching it. I d-drove dad's buggy +clear up over the curbstone yesterday, so he would come to the +r-rescue, and he swung on to old B-Baldy's neck like he had been a +race-horse."</p> +<p>"But you don't know him," protested Ruth. "And, besides, he +was he was a peddler."</p> +<p>"I don't care if he was," said Annette. "And if I don't know +him, it's no sign I am not g-going to."</p> +<p>Aunt Melvy chuckled as she rose to encourage the fire with a +pair of squeaking old bellows.</p> +<p>Martha looked about the room curiously. "Can you really tell +what's going to happen?" she asked timidly.</p> +<!-- Page 95 --> +<p>"Indeed she can," said Annette. "She told Jane Lewis that she +was g-going to have some g-good luck, and the v-very next week her +aunt died and left her a turquoise-ring!"</p> +<p>"Yas, chile," said Aunt Melvy, bending over the fire to light +her pipe; "I been habin' divisions for gwine on five year. Dat's +what made me think I wuz gwine git religion; but hit ain't come +yit not yit. I'm a mourner an' a seeker." Her pipe dropped +unheeded, and she gazed with fixed eyes out of the window.</p> +<p>"Tell us about your visions," demanded Annette.</p> +<p>"Well," said Aunt Melvy, "de fust I knowed about it wuz de +lizards in my legs. I could feel 'em jus' as plain as day, dese +here little green lizards a-runnin' round inside my legs. I tole de +doctor 'bout hit, Miss Nettie; but he said 't warn't nothin' but de +fidgits. I knowed better 'n he did dat time. Dat night I had a +division, an' de dream say, 'Put on yer purple mournin'-dress an' +set wid yer feet in a barrel ob <!-- Page 96--> +b'ilin' water till de smoke comes down de chimbly.' An' so I done, +a-settin' up dere on dat chist o' drawers all night, wid my purple +mournin'-dress on an' my feet in de b'ilin' water, an' de lizards +run away so fur dat dey ain't even stopped yit."</p> +<p>"Aunt Melvy, do you tell fortunes by palmistry?" asked Ruth.</p> +<p>"Yas'm; I reckon dat's what you call hit. I tells by de +tea-leaves. Lor', Miss Rufe, you sutenly put me in min' o' yer +grandmaw! She kerried her haid up in de air jus' lak you do, an' +she wuz jus' as putty as you is, too. We libed in de ole plantation +what's done burned down now, an' I lubed my missus I sutenly +did. When my ole man fust come here from de country I nebber seen +sech a fool. He didn't know no more 'bout courtin' dan nothin'; but +I wuz better qualified. I jus' tole ole miss how 't wuz, an' she +fixed up de weddin'. I nebber will fergit de day we walk ober de +plantation an' say we wuz married. George he had on a brand-new +pair pants dat cost <!-- Page 97 --> +two hundred an' sixty-four dollars in Confederate money."</p> +<p>"Isn't the water b-boiling yet?" asked Annette, impatiently.</p> +<p>"So 't is, so 't is," said Aunt Melvy, lifting the kettle from +the crane. She dropped a few tea-leaves in three china cups, and +then with great solemnity and occasional guttural ejaculations +poured the water over them.</p> +<p>Before the last cup was filled, Annette, with a wry face, had +drained the contents of hers and held it out to Aunt Melvy.</p> +<p>"There are my leaves. If they don't tell about a lover with +b-blue eyes and an Irish accent, I'll never b-believe them."</p> +<p>Aunt Melvy bent over the cup, and her sides shook. "You gwine be +a farmer's wife," she said, chuckling at the girl's grimace. "You +gwine raise chickens an' chillun."</p> +<p>"Ugh!" said Annette as the other girls laughed; "are his eyes +b-blue?"</p> +<p>Aunt Melvy pondered over the leaves. <!-- Page 98 --> +"Well, now, 'pears to me he's sorter dark-complected an' fat, like +Mr. Sid Gray," she said.</p> +<p>"Never!" declared Annette. "I loathe Sid."</p> +<p>"Tell my future!" cried Martha, pushing her cup forward +eagerly.</p> +<p>"Dey ain't none!" cried Aunt Melvy, aghast, as she saw the few +broken leaves in the bottom of the cup. "You done drinked up yer +fortune. Dat's de sign ob early death. I gwine fix you a good-luck +bag; dey say ef you carry it all de time, hit's a cross-sign ag'in' +death."</p> +<p>"But can't you tell me anything?" persisted Martha.</p> +<p>"Dey ain't nothin' to tell," repeated Aunt Melvy, "'cep'n' to +warn you to carry dat good-luck bag all de time."</p> +<p>"Now, mine," said Ruth, with an incredulous but curious +smile.</p> +<p>For several moments Aunt Melvy bent over the cup in deep +consideration, and then she rose and took it to the window, with +<!-- Page 99 --> +fearsome, anxious looks at Ruth meanwhile. Once or twice she made a +sign with her fingers, and frowned anxiously.</p> +<p>"What is it, Aunt Melvy?" Ruth demanded. "Am I going to be an +old maid?"</p> +<p>"'T ain't no time to joke, chile," whispered Aunt Melvy, all the +superstition of her race embodied in her trembling figure. "What I +see, I see. Hit's de galluses what I see in de bottom ob yer +cup!"</p> +<p>"Do you m-mean suspenders?" laughed Annette.</p> +<p>Aunt Melvy did, not hear her; she was looking over the cup into +space, swaying and moaning.</p> +<p>"To t'ink ob my ole missus' gran'chile bein' mixed up wif a +gallus lak dey hang de niggers on! But hit's dere, jus' as plain as +day, de two poles an' de cross-beam."</p> +<p>Ruth laughed as she looked into the cup.</p> +<p>"Is it for me?"</p> +<p>"Don't know, honey; de signs don't p'int to no one person: but +hit's in yer life, an' de shadow rests ag'in' you."</p> +<p><!-- Page 100 --> +By this time Martha was at the door, urging the others to hurry. +Her face was pale and her eyes were troubled. Ruth saw her +nervousness and slipped her arm about her. "It's all in fun," she +whispered.</p> +<p>"Of course," said Annette. "You m-mustn't mind her foolishness. +Besides, I g-got the worst of it. I'd rather die young or be +hanged, any day, than to m-marry Sid Gray."</p> +<p>Aunt Melvy followed them to the door, shaking her head. "I'se +gwine make you chillun some good-luck bags. De fust time de new +moon holds water I'se sholy gwine fix 'em. 'T ain't safe not to +mind de signs; 't ain't safe."</p> +<p>And with muttered warnings she watched them until they were lost +to view behind the hill.</p> +<p> </p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<!-- Page 101 --> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX</h2> +<p>TRANSITION</p> +<p>The change from the road to the school-room was not without many +a struggle on Sandy's part. The new life, the new customs, and the +strange language, were baffling.</p> +<p>The day after the accident in the road, Mrs. Hollis had sent him +to inquire how old Mrs. Nelson was, and he had returned with the +astonishing report that she was sixty-one.</p> +<p>"But you didn't ask her age?" cried Mrs. Hollis, horrified.</p> +<p>Sandy looked perplexed. "I said what ye bid me," he +declared.</p> +<p>Everything he did, in fact, seemed to be wrong; and everything +he said, to bring a <!-- Page 102 --> +smile. He confided many a woe to Aunt Melvy as he sat on the +kitchen steps in the evenings.</p> +<p>"Hit's de green rubbin' off," she assured him sympathetically. +"De same ones dat laugh at you now will be takin' off dey hats to +you some day."</p> +<p>"Oh, it ain't the guyin' I mind," said Sandy; "it's me wooden +head. Them little shavers that can't see a hole in a ladder can +beat me figurin'."</p> +<p>"You jus' keep on axin' questions," advised Aunt Melvy. "Dat's +what I always tole Rachael. Rachael's dat yaller gal up to Mrs. +Nelson's. I done raise her, an' she ain't a bit o'count. I use' ter +say, 'You fool nigger, how you ebber gwine learn nothin' effen you +don't ax questions?' An' she'd stick out her mouth an' say, 'Umph, +umph; you don't ketch me lettin' de white folks know how much sense +I ain't got.' Den she'd put on a white dress an' a white sunbonnet +an' go switchin' up de street, lookin' jus' lak a fly in a glass ob +buttermilk."</p> +<!-- Page 103 --> +<p>"It's the mixed-up things that bother me," said Sandy. "Mr. +Moseley was telling of us to-day how ye lost a day out of the week +when ye went round the world one way, and gained a day when ye went +round the other."</p> +<p>Aunt Melvy paused with the tea-towel in her hand. "Lost a day +outen de week? Where'd he say you lost it at?"</p> +<p>Sandy shook his head in perplexity.</p> +<p>"Dat's plumb foolishness," said Aunt Melvy, indignantly. "I'se +s'prised at Mr. Moseley, I sholy is. Dey sorter gits notions, dem +teachers does. When dey tells you stuff lak dat, honey, don't you +pay 'em no mind."</p> +<p>But Sandy did "pay 'em mind." He followed Aunt Melvy's advice +about asking questions, and wrestled with each new proposition +until he mastered it. It did not take him long, moreover, to +distinguish the difference between himself and those about him. The +words and phrases that had passed current on the street seemed to +ring <!-- Page 104 --> +false here. He watched the judge covertly and took notes.</p> +<p>His progress at the academy was a singular succession of +triumphs and failures. His natural quickness, together with an +enthusiastic ambition to get on, enabled him soon to take his place +among the boys of his own age. But a superabundance of high spirits +and an inordinate love of fun caused many a dark entry on the debit +side of his school ledger. There were many times when he +exasperated the judge to the limit of endurance, for he was +reckless and impulsive, charged to the exploding-point with +vitality, and ever and always the victim of his last caprice; but +when it came to the final issue, and the judge put a question +fairly before him, the boy was always on the side of right, even +though it proved him guilty.</p> +<p>At first Mrs. Hollis had been strongly opposed to his remaining +on the farm, but she soon became silent on the subject. It was a +heretofore unknown luxury to have the outside work promptly and +efficiently <!-- Page 105 --> +attended to. He possessed "the easy grace that makes a joke of +toil"; and when he despatched his various chores and did even more +than was required of him, Mrs. Hollis capitulated.</p> +<p>It was something more, however, than his ability and service +that won her. The affection of the world, which seemed to eddy +around her, as a rule, found an exception in Sandy. His big, +exuberant nature made no distinction: he swept over her, sharp +edges and all; he teased her, coaxed her, petted her, laughed at +her, turned her tirades with a bit of blarney, and in the end won +her in spite of herself.</p> +<p>"He's ketchin' on," reported Aunt Melvy, confidently. "I heared +him puttin' on airs in his talk. When dey stops talkin' nachel, den +I knows dey are learnin' somethin'."</p> +<p> </p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<!-- Page 106 --> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X</h2> +<p>WATERLOO</p> +<p>It was not until three years had passed and Sandy had reached +his junior year that his real achievement was put to the test.</p> +<p>After that harrowing experience in the Hollis driveway, he had +seen Ruth Nelson but twice. She had spent the winters at +boarding-school, and in the summers she traveled with her aunt. She +was still the divinity for whom he shaped his end, the compass that +always brought him back to the straight course. He looked upon her +possible recognition and friendship as a man looks upon his reward +in heaven. In the meantime he suffered himself to be consoled by +less distant joys.</p> +<p><!-- Page 107 --> +The greatest spur he had to study was Martha Meech. She thought he +was a genius; and while he found it a bit irksome to live up to his +reputation, he made an honest effort to deserve it.</p> +<p>One spring afternoon the two were under the apple-trees, with +their books before them. The years that had lifted Sandy forward +toward vigor and strength and manhood had swept over Martha +relentlessly, beating out her frail strength, and leaving her +weaker to combat each incoming tide. Her straight, straw-colored +hair lay smooth about her delicate face, and in her eyes was the +strained look of one who seeks but is destined never to attain.</p> +<p>"Let's go over the Latin once more," she was saying patiently, +"just to make sure you understand."</p> +<p>"Devil a bit more!" cried Sandy, jumping up from where he lay in +the grass and tossing the book lightly from her hand; "it's the sin +and the shame to keep you poking in books, now the spring is here. +<!-- Page 108 --> +Martha, do you mind the sound of the wind in the tree-tops?"</p> +<p>She nodded, and he went on:</p> +<p>"Does it put strange words in your heart that you can't even +think out in your head? If I could be translating the wind and the +river, I'd never be minding the Latin again."</p> +<p>Martha looked at him half timidly.</p> +<p>"Sometimes, do you know, I almost think you are a poet, Sandy; +you are always thinking the things the poets write about."</p> +<p>"Do you, now, true?" he asked seriously, dropping down on the +grass beside her. Then he laughed. "You'll be having me writing +rhymes, now, in a minute."</p> +<p>"Why not?" she urged.</p> +<p>"I must stick to my course," he said. "I'd never be a real one. +They work for the work's sake, and I work for the praise. If I win +the scholarship, it'll be because you want me to, Martha; if I come +to be a lawyer, it's because it's the wish of the judge's heart; +and if I win out in the end, it will be for the love of some +one some one who <!-- Page 109 --> +cares more for that than for anything else in the world."</p> +<p>She dropped her eyes, while he watched the flight of a song-bird +as it wheeled about overhead. Presently she opened an old portfolio +and took from it a little sketch.</p> +<p>"I have been trying to get up courage to show it to you all +week," she said, with a deprecatory laugh.</p> +<p>"It's the river," cried Sandy, "just at sundown, when the +shadows are slipping away from the bank! Martha, why didn't ye tell +me? Are there more?"</p> +<p>He ransacked the portfolio, drawing out sketch after sketch and +exclaiming over each. They were crude little efforts, faulty in +drawing and in color; but the spirit was there, and Sandy had a +vague instinct for the essence of things.</p> +<p>"I believe you're the real kind, Martha. They're crooked a bit, +but they've got the feel of the woods in 'em, all right. I can just +hear the water going over those stones."</p> +<p>Martha's eyes glowed at the praise. For <!-- Page 110 --> +a year she had reached forward blindly toward some outlet for her +cramped, limited existence, and suddenly a way seemed open toward +the light.</p> +<p>"I wanted to learn how before I showed you," she said. "I am +never going to show them to any one but you and mother and +father."</p> +<p>"But you must go somewhere to study," cried Sandy. "It's a great +artist you'll be some day."</p> +<p>She shook her head. "It's not for me, Sandy. I'll always be like +a little beggar girl that peeps through the fence into a beautiful +garden. I know all the wonderful things are there, but I'll never +get to them."</p> +<p>"But ye will," cried Sandy, hot with sympathy. "I'll be making +money some day, and I'll send ye to the finest master in the +country; and you will be getting well and strong, and we'll +go "</p> +<p>Mr. Meech, shuffling up the walk toward them, interrupted. +"Studying for the examination, eh? That's right, my boy. The +<!-- Page 111 --> +judge tells me that you have a good chance to win the +scholarship."</p> +<p>"Did he, now?" said Sandy, with shameless pleasure; "and you, +Mr. Meech, do ye think the same?"</p> +<p>"I certainly do," said Mr. Meech. "Anybody that can accomplish +the work you do at home, and hold your record at the academy, +stands an excellent chance."</p> +<p>Sandy thought so, too, but he tried to be modest. "If it'll be +in me, it will come out," he said with suppressed triumph as he +swung his books across his shoulder and started home.</p> +<p>Martha's eyes followed him wistfully, and she hoped for a +backward look before he turned in at the door. But he was absorbed +in sailing a broomstick across Aunt Melvy's pathway, causing her to +drop her basket and start after him in hot pursuit.</p> +<p>That evening the judge glanced across the table with great +satisfaction at Sandy, who was apparently buried in his Vergil. The +boy, after all, was a student; he was <!-- Page 112 --> +justifying the money and time that had been spent upon him; he was +proving a credit to his benefactor's judgment and to his knowledge +of human nature.</p> +<p>"Would ye mind telling me a word that rhymes with lance?" broke +in Sandy after an hour of absorbed concentration.</p> +<p>"Pants," suggested the judge. But he woke up in the night to +wonder again what part of Vergil Sandy had been studying.</p> +<p>"How about the scholarship?" he asked the next day of Mr. +Moseley, the principal of the academy.</p> +<p>Mr. Moseley pursed his lips and considered the matter +ponderously. He regarded it as ill befitting an instructor of youth +to dispose of any subject in words of less than three +syllables.</p> +<p>"Your proteacute;geacute;, Judge Hollis, is an ambiguous +proposition. He possesses invention and originality, but he is +sadly lacking in sustained concentration."</p> +<p>"But if he studies," persisted the judge, "you think he may win +it?"</p> +<p><!-- Page 113 --> +Mr. Moseley wrinkled his brows and looked as if he were solving a +problem in Euclid. "Probably," he admitted; "but there is a most +insidious enemy with which he has to contend."</p> +<p>"An enemy?" repeated the judge, anxiously.</p> +<p>"My dear sir," said Mr. Moseley, sinking his voice to husky +solemnity, "the boy is stung by the tarantula of athletics!"</p> +<p>It was all too true. The Ambiguous Proposition had found, soon +after reaching Clayton, that base-ball was what he had been waiting +for all his life. It was what he had been born for, what he had +crossed the ocean for, and what he would gladly have died for.</p> +<p>There could have been no surer proof of his growing power of +concentration than that he kept a firm grasp on his academy work +during these trying days. It was a hand-to-hand fight with the +great mass of knowledge that had been accumulating at such a cruel +rate during the years he had <!-- Page 114 --> +spent out of school. He was making gallant progress when a +catastrophe occurred.</p> +<p>The great ball game of the season, which was to be played in +Lexington between the Clayton team and the Lexington nine, was set +for June 2. And June 2 was the day which cruel fate masked as +the board of trustees—had set for the academy examinations. +Sandy was the only member of the team who attended the academy, and +upon him alone rested the full agony of renunciation. His +disappointment was so utterly crushing that it affected the whole +family.</p> +<p>"Couldn't they postpone the game?" asked the judge.</p> +<p>"It was the second that was the only day the Lexingtons could +play," said Sandy, in black despair. "And to think of me sitting in +the bloomin' old school-room while Sid Gray loses the game in me +place!"</p> +<p>For a week before the great event he lived in retirement. The +one topic of conversation in town was the ball game, and he found +the strain too great to be borne. <!-- Page 115 --> +The team was to go to Lexington on the noon train with a mighty +company of loyal followers. Every boy and girl who could meet the +modest expenses was going, save the unfortunate victims of the +junior class at the academy. Annette Fenton had even had a dress +made in the Clayton colors.</p> +<p>As Sandy went into town on the important day, his heart was like +a rock in his breast. There was glorious sunshine everywhere, and a +cool little undercurrent of breezes stirred every leaf into a tiny +banner of victory. Up in the square, Johnson's colored band was +having a final rehearsal, while on the court-house steps the team, +glorious in new uniforms, were excitedly discussing the plan of +campaign. Little boys shouted, and old boys left their stores to +come out and give a bit of advice or encouragement to the waiting +warriors. Maidens in crisp lawn dresses and flying ribbons +fluttered about in a tremor of anticipation.</p> +<p>Sandy Kilday, with his cap pulled over <!-- Page 116 --> +his eyes, went up Back street. If he could not make the devil get +behind him, he at least could get behind the devil. Without a +moment's hesitation he would have given ten years of sober +middle-age life for that one glorious day of youth on the Lexington +diamond, with the victory to be fought for, and the grand stand to +be won.</p> +<p>He tried not to keep step with the music—he even tried to +think of quadratic equations—as he marched heroically on to +the academy. His was the face of a Christian martyr relinquishing +life for a good but hopeless cause.</p> +<p>Late that afternoon Judge Hollis left his office and walked +around to the academy. He had sympathized fully with Sandy, and +wanted, if possible, to find out the result of the examination +before going home. The report of the scholarship won would +reconcile him to his disappointment.</p> +<p>At the academy gate he met Mr. Moseley, who greeted him with a +queer smile. They both asked the same question:</p> +<!-- Page 117 --> +<p>"Where's Sandy?"</p> +<p>As if in answer, there came a mighty shout from the street +leading down to the depot. Turning, they saw a cheering, hilarious +crowd; bright-flowered hats flashed among college caps, while +shrill girlish voices rang out with the manly ones. Carried high in +the air on the shoulders of a dozen boys, radiant with praise and +success, sat the delinquent Sandy, and the tumult below resolved +itself into one mighty cheer:</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"><span>"Kilday, Kilday!<br /></span> <span>Won +the day.<br /></span> <span>Hooray!"<br /></span></div> +</div> +<p> </p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<!-- Page 118 --> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI</h2> +<p>"THE LIGHT THAT LIES"</p> +<p>During the summer Sandy worked faithfully to make amends for his +failure to win the scholarship. He had meekly accepted the torrent +of abuse which Mrs. Hollis poured forth, and the open disapproval +shown by the Meeches; he had winced under Martha's unspoken +reproaches, and groaned over the judge's quiet disappointment.</p> +<p>"You see, my boy," the judge said one day when they were alone, +"I had set my heart on taking you into the office after next year. +I had counted on the scholarship to put you through your last year +at the academy."</p> +<p>"It was the fool I was," cried Sandy, in deep contrition, "but +if ye'll trust me the <!-- Page 119 --> +one time more, may I die in me traces if I ever stir out of +them!"</p> +<p>So sincere was his desire to make amends that he asked to read +law with the judge in the evenings after his work was done. Nothing +could have pleased the judge more; he sat with his back to the lamp +and his feet on the window-sill, expounding polemics to his heart's +desire.</p> +<p>Sandy sat in the shadow and whittled. Sometimes he did not +listen at all, but when he did, it was with an intensity of +attention, an utter absorption in the subject, that carried him +straight to the heart of the matter. Meanwhile he was unconsciously +receiving a life-imprint of the old judge's native nobility.</p> +<p>From the first summer Sandy had held a good position at the +post-office. His first earnings had gone to a round little surgeon +on board the steamship <i>America</i>. But since then his funds had +run rather low. What he did not lend he contributed, and the result +was a chronic state of bankruptcy.</p> +<!-- Page 120 --> +<p>"You must be careful with your earnings," the judge warned. "It +is not easy to live within an income."</p> +<p>"Easier within it than without it, sir," Sandy answered from +deep experience.</p> +<p>After the Lexington episode Sandy had shunned Martha somewhat; +when he did go to see her, he found she was sick in bed.</p> +<p>"She never was strong," said Mrs. Meech, sitting limp and +disconsolate on the porch. "Mr. Meech and I never thought to keep +her this long. The doctor says it's the beginning of the end. She's +so patient it's enough to break your heart."</p> +<p>Sandy went without his dinner that day, and tramped to town and +back, in the glare of the noon sun, to get her a basket of fruit. +Then he wrote her a letter so full of affection and sympathy that +it brought the tears to his own eyes as he wrote. He took the +basket with the note and left them at her door, after which he +promptly forgot all about her. For his whole purpose in life these +days, aside from assisting the government <!-- Page 121 --> +in the distribution of mail and reading a musty old volume of +Blackstone, was learning to dance.</p> +<p>In ten days was the opening of the county fair, and Sandy had +received an invitation to be present at the fair hop, which was the +social excitement of the season. It was to be his introduction into +society, and he was determined to acquit himself with credit.</p> +<p>He assiduously practised the two-step in the back room of the +post-office when the other clerk was out for lunch; he tried +elaborate and ornate bows upon Aunt Melvy, who considered even the +mildest "reel chune" a direct communication from the devil. The +moment the post-office closed he hastened to Dr. Fenton's, where +Annette was taking him through a course of private lessons.</p> +<p>Dr. Fenton's house was situated immediately upon the street. +Opening the door, one passed into a small square hall where the +Confederate flag hung above a life-size portrait of General Lee. On +every side <!-- Page 122 --> +were old muskets and rusty swords, large pictures of decisive +battles, and maps of the siege of Vicksburg and the battle of Bull +Run. In the midst of this warlike atmosphere sat the +unreconstructed little doctor, wearing his gray uniform and his +gray felt hat, which he removed only when he ate and slept.</p> +<p>Here he ostensibly held office hours, but in reality he was +doing sentry duty. His real business in life was keeping up with +Annette, and his diversion was in the constant perusal of a slim +sheet known as "The Confederate Veteran."</p> +<p>It was Sandy's privilege to pass the lines unchallenged. In +fact, the doctor's strict surveillance diminished, and he was +occasionally guilty of napping at the post when Sandy was with +Annette.</p> +<p>"Come in, come in," he said one day. "Just looking over the +'Veteran.' Ever hear of Sam Davis? Greatest hero South ever knew! +That's his picture. Wasn't afraid of any damned Yankee that ever +pulled a trigger."</p> +<!-- Page 123 --> +<p>"Was he a rebel?" asked the unfortunate Sandy.</p> +<p>The doctor swelled with indignation. "He was a Confederate, sir! +I never knew a rebel."</p> +<p>"It was the Confederates that wore the gray?" asked Sandy, +trying to cover his blunder.</p> +<p>"They did," said the doctor. "I put it on at nineteen, and I'll +be buried in it. Yes, sir; and my hat. Wouldn't wear blue for a +farm. Hate the sight of it so, that I might shoot myself by +mistake. Ever look over these maps? This was the battle +of—"</p> +<p>A door opened and a light head was thrust out.</p> +<p>"Now, d-dad, you hush this minute! You've told him that over and +over. Sandy's my company. Come in here, Sandy."</p> +<p>A few moments later there was a moving of chairs, and Annette's +voice was counting, "One, two, three; one, two, three," while Sandy +went through violent contortions <!-- Page 124 --> +in his efforts to waltz. He had his tongue firmly between his teeth +and his eyes fixed on vacancy as he revolved in +furniture—destroying circles about the small parlor.</p> +<p>"That isn't right," cried Annette. "You've lost the time. You +d-dance with the chair, Sandy, and I'll p-play the p-piano."</p> +<p>"No, you don't!" he cried. "I'll dance with you and put the +chair at the piano, but I'll dance with no chair."</p> +<p>Annette sank, laughing and exhausted, upon the sofa and looked +up at him hopelessly. Her hair had tumbled down, making her look +more like a child than ever.</p> +<p>"You are so b-big," she said; "and you've got so m-many +feet!"</p> +<p>"The more of me to love ye."</p> +<p>"I wonder if you d-do?" She put her chin on her palms, looking +at him sidewise.</p> +<p>"Don't ye do that again!" he cried. "Haven't I passed ye the +warning never to <!-- Page 125 --> +look at me when you fix your mouth like that?"</p> +<p>She tried to call him a goose, though she knew that <i>g</i>'s +were fatal.</p> +<p>A moment later she sat at one end of the sofa in pretended +dudgeon, while Sandy tried to make his peace from the other.</p> +<p>"May the lightning strike me dead if I ever do it again without +the asking! I'll be good now—honest to goodness, Nettie. I'll +shut me eyes when you take the hurdles, and be blind to temptation. +Won't ye be putting me on about the hop now, and what I must +do?"</p> +<p>Annette counted her fraternity pins and tried to look severe. +She used them in lieu of scalps, and they encircled her neck, +fastened her belt, and on state occasions even adorned her +shoe-buckles.</p> +<p>"Well," she at last said, "to b-begin with, you must be nice to +everyb-body. You mustn't sit out more than one d-dance with one +g-girl, and you must b-break in on every dance I'm not sitting +out."</p> +<!-- Page 126 --> +<p>"Break in? Sit out?" repeated Sandy, realizing that the +intricacies of society are manifold.</p> +<p>"Of course," said his mentor. "Whenever you see the g-girl you +like dancing with any one else, you just p-put your hand on the +man's shoulder, and then she d-dances with you."</p> +<p>"And will they all stop for me?" cried Sandy, not understanding +at all why he should have the preference.</p> +<p>"Surely," said Annette. "And sitting out is when you like a girl +so m-much that you would rather take her away to some quiet little +corner and talk to her than to d-dance with her."</p> +<p>"That'll never be me," cried Sandy—"not while the band +plays."</p> +<p>"Shall we try it again?" she asked; and with much scoffing and +scolding on her part, and eloquent apologies and violent exertion +on his, they struggled onward toward success.</p> +<p>In the midst of the lesson there was a <!-- Page 127 --> +low whistle at the side window. Annette dropped Sandy's hands and +put her finger to her lips.</p> +<p>"It's Carter," she whispered. "D-dad doesn't allow him to come +here."</p> +<p>"Little's the wonder," grumbled Sandy.</p> +<p>Annette's eyes were sparkling at the prospect of forbidden +fruit. She tiptoed to the window and opened the shutter a few +inches.</p> +<p>At the opening Carter's face appeared. It was a pale, delicate +face, over-sensitive, over-refined, with the stamp of weakness on +every feature. His restless, nervous eyes were slightly bloodshot, +and there was a constant twitching about his lips. But as he pushed +back the shutter and leaned carelessly against the sill, there was +an easy grace in his figure and a devil-may-care light in his eyes +that would have stirred the heart of a maiden less susceptible than +the one who smiled upon him from between the muslin curtains.</p> +<p>He laughed lightly as he caught at a flying lock of her +hair.</p> +<!-- Page 128 --> +<p>"You little coward! Why didn't you meet me?"</p> +<p>She frowned significantly and made warning gestures toward the +interior of the room.</p> +<p>At the far window, standing with his back to them, was Mr. Sandy +Kilday. He was engaged in a fierce encounter with an unnamed +monster whose eyes were green. During his pauses for breath he +composed a few comprehensive and scathing remarks which he intended +to bestow upon Miss Fenton at his earliest convenience. Fickleness +was a thing not to be tolerated. She had confessed her preference +for him over all others; she must and should prove it. Just when +his indignation had reached the exploding-point, he heard his name +called.</p> +<p>"Sandy," cried Annette, "what do you think? Ruth is coming home! +Carter is on his way to the d-depot to meet her now. She's been +gone nearly a year. I never was so crazy to see anyb-body in all my +life."</p> +<p><!-- Page 129 --> +Sandy wheeled about. "Which depot?" he cried excitedly; and without +apologies or farewell he dashed out of the house and down the +street.</p> +<p>When the Pullman train came into the Clayton station, he was +leaning against a truck in a pose of studied indifference. Out of +the tail of his eye he watched the passengers alight.</p> +<p>There were the usual fat women and thin men, tired women with +children, and old women with baskets, but no sign of a small girl +with curls hanging down her back and dresses to her shoe-tops.</p> +<p>Suddenly he caught his breath. Standing in the car door, like a +saint in a niche, was a radiant figure in a blue traveling-suit, +with a bit of blue veil floating airily from her hat brim. She was +not the little girl he was looking for, but he transferred his +devotion at a bound; for long skirts and tucked-up curls rendered +her tenfold more worshipful than before.</p> +<p>He watched her descend from her pedestal, <!-- Page 130 --> +bestow an affectionate kiss upon her brother, then look eagerly +around for other familiar faces. In one heart-suspending instant +her eyes met his, she hesitated in confusion, then blushed and +bowed.</p> +<p>Sandy reeled home in utter intoxication of spirit. Even the town +pump wore a halo of glorified rosy mist.</p> +<p>At the gate he met Mrs. Hollis returning from a funeral. With a +sudden descent from his ethereal mood he pounced upon her and, in +spite of violent protestations, danced her madly down the walk and +deposited her breathless upon the milk-bench.</p> +<p>"He's getting worse all the time," she complained to Aunt Melvy, +who had watched the performance with great glee.</p> +<p>"Yas,'m," said Aunt Melvy, with a fond look at his retreating +figure. "He's jus' like a' Irish potato: when he ain't powerful +cold, he's powerful hot."</p> +<p> </p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<!-- Page 131 --> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII</h2> +<p>ANTICIPATION</p> +<p>The day before the fair Sandy employed a substitute at the +post-office, in order to give the entire day to preparation for the +festivities to come.</p> +<p>Early in the morning he went to town, where, after much +consultation and many changes of mind, he purchased a suit of +clothes. Then he rented the town dress-suit, to the chagrin of +three other boys who had each counted upon it for the coming +hop.</p> +<p>With the precious burden under his arm, Sandy hastened home. He +spread the two coats on the bed, placing a white shirt inside each, +and a necktie about each collar. Then he stood back and +admired.</p> +<!-- Page 132 --> +<p>"It's meself I can see in them both this minute!" he exclaimed +with delight.</p> +<p>His shoes were polished until they were resplendent, but they +lost much of their glory during subsequent practising of steps +before the mirror. He even brushed and cleaned his old clothes, for +he foresaw the pain of laying aside the raiment of Solomon for +dingy every-day garments.</p> +<p>Toward noon he went down-stairs to continue his zealous efforts +in the kitchen. This met with Aunt Melvy's instant disapproval.</p> +<p>"For mercy sake, git out ob my way!" she cried, as she squeezed +past the ironing-board to get to the stove. "I'll press yer pants, +ef you'll jus' take yourself outen de kitchen. Be sure don't burn +'em? Look a-heah, chile; I was pressin' pants 'fore yer paw was +wearin' 'em!"</p> +<p>Aunt Melvy's temper was a thing not to be trifled with when a +"protracted meeting" was in session. For years she had been the +black sheep in the spiritual fold. Her earnest desire to get +religion and the untiring <!-- Page 133 --> +efforts of the exhorters had alike proved futile. Year after year +she sat on the mourners' bench, seeking the light and failing each +time to "come th'u'."</p> +<p>This discouraging condition of affairs sorely afflicted her, and +produced a kind of equinoctial agitation in the Hollis kitchen.</p> +<p>Sandy went on into the dining-room, but he found no welcome +there. Mrs. Hollis was submerged in pastry. The county fair was her +one dissipation, and her highest ambition was to take premiums. +Every year she sent forth battalions of cakes, pies, sweet pickles, +beaten biscuit, crocheted doilies, and crazy-quilts to capture the +blue ribbon.</p> +<p>"Don't put the window up!" she warned Sandy. "I know it's +stifling, but I can't have the dust coming in. Why don't you go on +in the house?"</p> +<p>Mrs. Hollis always spoke of the kitchen and dining-room as if +they were not a part of the house.</p> +<p>"Can't ye tell me something that's good <!-- Page 134 --> +for the sunburn?" asked Sandy, anxiously. "It's a dressed-up +shooting-cracker I'll be resembling the morrow, in spite of me fine +clothes."</p> +<p>"Buttermilk and lemon-juice," recommended Mrs. Hollis, as she +placed the last marshmallow on the roof of a four-story cake.</p> +<p>Sandy would have endured any discomfort that day in order to add +one charm to his personal appearance. He used so many lemons there +were none left for the judge's lemonade when he came home for +dinner.</p> +<p>"Just home from the post-office?" he asked when he saw Sandy +enter the dining-room with his hat on.</p> +<p>"Jimmy Reed's doing my work to-day," Sandy said apologetically. +"And if you please, sir, I'll be keeping my hat on. I have just +washed my hair, and I want it to dry straight."</p> +<p>The judge looked at the suspicious turn of the thick locks +around the brim of the stiff hat and smiled.</p> +<!-- Page 135 --> +<p>"Vanitas vanitatum, et omnia vanitas," he quoted. "How many +pages of Blackstone to-day?"</p> +<p>Sandy made a wry face and winked at Mrs. Hollis, but she +betrayed him.</p> +<p>"He has been primping since sun-up," she said. "Anybody would +think he was going to get married."</p> +<p>"Sweet good luck if I was!" cried Sandy, gaily.</p> +<p>The judge put down his fork and laid his hand on Sandy's arm. +"You mustn't neglect the learning, Sandy. You've made fine +progress, and I'm proud of you. You've worked your way this far; +I'll help you to the top if you'll keep a steady head."</p> +<p>"That I'll do," cried Sandy, grasping his hand. "It's old +Moseley's promise I have for steady work at the academy. If I can't +climb the ladder, with you at one end and success at the other, +then I'm not much of a chicken—I mean I'm not much."</p> +<p>"Well, you better begin by leaving the girls alone," said Mrs. +Hollis as she moved <!-- Page 136 --> +the sugar out of his reach. "Just let one drive by the gate, and we +don't have any peace until you know who it is."</p> +<p>"By the way," said the judge, as he helped himself to a +corn-dodger and two kinds of preserves, "I'm sorry to see the +friendship that's sprung up between Annette Fenton and young +Nelson. I don't know what the doctor's thinking about to let it go +on. Nelson is hitting a pretty lively pace for a youngster. He'll +never live to reap his wild oats, though. He came into the world +with consumption, and I don't think he will be long getting out of +it. He's always getting into difficulty. I have had to fine him +twice in the past month for gambling. Do you see anything of him, +Sandy?"</p> +<p>"No," said Sandy, biting his lip. His pride had suffered more +than once at Carter's condescension.</p> +<p>"Martha Meech must be worse," said Mrs. Hollis. "The up-stairs +blinds have been closed all day."</p> +<p><!-- Page 137 --> +Sandy pushed back the apple-dumpling which Aunt Melvy had made at +his special request.</p> +<p>"Perhaps I can be helping them," he said as he rose from the +table.</p> +<p>When he came back he sat for a long time with his head on his +hand.</p> +<p>"Is she much worse?" asked Mrs. Hollis.</p> +<p>"Yes," said Sandy; "and it's little that I can do, though she's +coughing her life away. It's a shame—and a shame!" he cried +in hot rebellion.</p> +<p>All his vanity of the morning was dispelled by the tragedy +taking place next door. He paced back and forth between the two +houses, begging to be allowed to help, and proposing all sorts of +impossible things.</p> +<p>When inaction became intolerable, he plunged into his law books, +at first not comprehending a line, but gradually becoming more and +more interested, until at last the whole universe seemed to revolve +about a case that was decided in a previous century.</p> +<p>When he rose it was almost dusk, and he <!-- Page 138 --> +came back to the present world with a start. His first thought was +of Ruth and the rapturous prospect of seeing her on the morrow; a +swift doubt followed as to whether a white tie or a black one was +proper; then a sudden fear that he had forgotten how to dance. He +jumped to his feet, took a couple of steps—when he remembered +Martha.</p> +<p>The house seemed suddenly quiet and lonesome. He went from the +sitting-room to the kitchen, but neither Mrs. Hollis nor Aunt Melvy +was to be found. Returning through the front hall, he opened the +door to the parlor.</p> +<p>The sight that met him was somewhat gruesome. Everything was +carefully wrapped in newspapers. Pictures enveloped in newspapers +hung on the walls, newspaper chairs stood primly around a newspaper +table. In the dim twilight it looked like the very ghost of a +room.</p> +<p>Sandy threw open the window, and going over to the newspaper +piano, untied the wrappings. He softly touched the keys and +<!-- Page 139 --> +began to sing in an undertone. Old Irish love-songs, asleep in his +heart since they were first dropped there by the merry mother lips, +stirred and awoke. The accompaniment limped along lamely enough; +but the singer, with hat over his eyes and lemon-juice on his nose, +sang on as only a poet and lover can. His rich, full voice lingered +on the soft Celtic syllables, dwelt tenderly on the diminutive +endearments, while his heart, overcharged with sorrow and joy and +romance and dreams, spilled over in an ecstasy of song.</p> +<p>Next door, in an upper bedroom, a tired soul paused in its final +flight. Martha Meech, stretching forth her thin arms in the +twilight, listened as one might listen to the strains of an angel +choir.</p> +<p>"It's Sandy," she said, and the color came to her cheeks, the +light to her eyes. For, like Sandy, she had youth and she had love, +and life itself could give no more.</p> +<p> </p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<!-- Page 140 --> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII</h2> +<p>THE COUNTY FAIR</p> +<p>The big amphitheater at the fair grounds was filled as +completely and evenly as a new paper of pins. Through the air +floated that sweetest of all music to the childish ear—the +unceasing wail of expiring balloons; and childish souls were held +together in one sticky ecstasy of molasses candy and pop-corn +balls.</p> +<p>Behind the highest row of seats was a promenade, and in front of +the lowest was another. Around these circled a procession which, +though constantly varying, held certain recurring figures like the +charging steeds on a merry-go-round. There was Dr. Fenton, in his +tight Confederate suit; he had been circling in that same +procession <!-- Page 141 --> +at every fair for twenty years. There was the judge, lank of limb +and loose of joint, who stopped to shake hands with all the +strangers and invite them to take dinner in his booth, where Mrs. +Hollis reveled in a riot of pastry. A little behind him strutted +Mr. Moseley, sending search-lights of scrutiny over the crowd in +order to discover the academy boys who might be wasting their time +upon unlettered femininity.</p> +<p>At one side of the amphitheater, raised to a place of honor, was +the courting-box. Here the aristocratic youth of the country-side +met to measure hearts, laugh at the rustics, and enjoy the +races.</p> +<p>In previous years Sandy had watched the courting-box from below, +but this year he was in the center of it. Jests and greetings from +the boys, and cordial glances from maidens both known and unknown, +bade him welcome. But, in spite of his reception, and in spite of +his irreproachable toilet, he was not having a good time. With +hands in pockets and a scowl on his face, he stared +<!-- Page 142 --> +gloomily over the crowd. Twice a kernel of pop-corn struck his ear, +but he did not turn.</p> +<p>Above him, Annette Fenton was fathoms deep in a flirtation with +Carter Nelson; while below him, Ruth, in the daintiest of gowns and +the largest of hats, was wasting her sweetness on the desert +countenance of Sid Gray.</p> +<p>Sandy refused to seek consolation elsewhere; he sat like a +Spartan hero, and calmly watched his heart being consumed in the +flames.</p> +<p>This hour, for which he had been living, this longed-for +opportunity of being near Ruth and possibly of speaking to her, was +slipping away, and she did not even know he was there.</p> +<p>He became fiercely critical of Sid Gray. He rejoiced in his +stoutness and took grim pleasure in the fact that his necktie had +slipped up at the back. He looked at his hand as it rested on the +back of the seat; it was plump and white. Sandy held out +<!-- Page 143 --> +his own broad, muscular palm, hardened and roughened by work. Then +he put it in his pocket again and sighed.</p> +<p>The afternoon wore gaily on. Louder grew the chorus of balloons +and stickier grew the pop-corn balls. The courting-box was humming +with laughter and jest. The Spartan hero began to rebel. Why should +he allow himself to be tortured thus when there might be a way of +escape? He recklessly resolved to put his fate to the test. Rising +abruptly, he went down to the promenade and passed slowly along the +courting-box, scanning the occupants as if in search of some one. +It was on his fourth round that she saw him, and the electric shock +almost lost him his opportunity. He looked twice to make sure she +had spoken; then, with a bit of his heart in his throat and the +rest in his eyes, he went up the steps and awkwardly held out his +hand.</p> +<p>The world made several convulsive circuits in its orbit and the +bass drum performed a solo inside his head during the +<!-- Page 144 --> +moment that followed. When the tumult subsided he found a pair of +bright brown eyes smiling up at him and a small hand clasped in +his.</p> +<p>This idyllic condition was interrupted by a disturbance on the +promenade, which caused them both to look in that direction. Some +one was pushing roughly through the crowd.</p> +<p>"Hi, there, Kilday! Sandy Kilday!"</p> +<p>A heavy-set fellow was making his way noisily toward them. His +suit of broad checks, his tan shoes, and his large diamond stud +were strangers, but his little close-set eyes, protruding teeth, +and bushy hair were hatefully familiar.</p> +<p>Sandy started forward, and those nearest laughed when the +stranger looked at him and said:</p> +<p>"My guns! Git on to his togs! Ain't he a duke!"</p> +<p>Sandy got Ricks out of the firing-line, around the corner of the +courting-box. His face was crimson with mortification, but it never +occurred to him to be angry.</p> +<!-- Page 145 --> +<p>"What brought you back?" he asked huskily.</p> +<p>"Hosses."</p> +<p>"Are you going to drive this afternoon?"</p> +<p>"Yep. One of young Nelson's colts in the last ring. Say," he +added, "he's game, all right. Me and him have done biz before. Know +him?"</p> +<p>"Carter Nelson? Oh, yes; I know him," said Sandy, impatient to +be rid of his companion.</p> +<p>"Me and him are a winnin' couple," said Ricks. "We plays the +races straight along. He puts up the dough, and I puts up the tips. +Say, he's one of these here tony toughs; he won't let on he knows +me when he's puttin' on dog. What about you, Sandy? Makin' good +these days?"</p> +<p>"I guess so," said Sandy, indifferently.</p> +<p>"You ain't goin' to school yet?"</p> +<p>"That I am," said Sandy; "and next year, too, if the money holds +out."</p> +<p>"Golly gosh!" said Ricks, incredulously. "Well, I got to be +hikin' back. The next <!-- Page 146 --> +is my entry. I'll look you up after while. So-long!"</p> +<p>He shambled off, and Sandy watched his broad-checked back until +it was lost in the crowd.</p> +<p>That Ricks should have turned up at that critical moment seemed +a wilful prank on the part of fate. Sandy bit his lip and raged +inwardly. He had a wild impulse to rush back to Ruth, seize her +hand, and begin where he had left off. He might have done it, too, +had not the promenade happened to land Dr. Fenton before him at +that moment.</p> +<p>The doctor was behaving in a most extraordinary and unmilitary +way. He had stepped out of the ranks, and was performing strange +manoeuvers about a knothole that looked into the courting-box. When +he saw Sandy he opened fire.</p> +<p>"Look at her! Look at her!" he whispered. "Whenever I pass she +talks to Jimmy Reed on this side; but the moment she thinks I'm not +looking, sir, she talks <!-- Page 147 --> +to Nelson on the other! Kilday," he went on, shaking his finger +impressively, "that little girl is as slick as—a blame +Yankee! But she'll not outwit me. I'm going right up there and take +her home."</p> +<p>Sandy laughingly held his arm. It was not the first time the +doctor had confided in him. "No, no, doctor," he said; "I'll be the +watch-dog for ye. Let me go and stay with Annette, and if Carter +Nelson gets a word in her ear, it'll be because I've forgotten how +to talk."</p> +<p>"Will you?" asked the doctor, anxiously. "Nelson's a drunkard. +I'd rather see my little girl dead than married to him. But she's +wilful, Kilday; when she was just a baby she'd sit with her little +pink toes curled up for an hour to keep me from putting on her +shoes when she wanted to go barefoot! She's a fighter," he added, +with a gruff chuckle that ended in a sigh, "but she's all I've +got."</p> +<p>Sandy gripped him by the hand, then turned the corner into the +courting-box. <!-- Page 148 --> +Instantly his eager eyes sought Ruth, but she did not look up as he +passed.</p> +<p>He unceremoniously took his seat beside Annette, to the +indignation of little Jimmy Reed. It was hard to accept Carter's +patronizing tolerance, but a certain curve to his eyebrows and the +turn of his head served as perpetual reminders of Ruth.</p> +<p>Annette greeted Sandy effusively. She had found Jimmy entirely +too limber a foil to use with any degree of skill, and she knew +from past experience that Sandy and Carter were much better +matched. If Sid Gray had been there also, she would have been quite +happy. In Annette's estimation it was all a mistake about love +being a game for two.</p> +<p>"Who was your stylish friend?" she asked Sandy.</p> +<p>"Ricks Wilson," said Sandy, shortly.</p> +<p>Carter smiled condescendingly. "Your old business partner, I +believe?"</p> +<p>"Before he was yours," said Sandy.</p> +<p>This was not at all to Annette's taste. They were not even +thinking about her.</p> +<!-- Page 149 --> +<p>"How m-many dances do you want for to-night?" she asked +Sandy.</p> +<p>"The first four."</p> +<p>She wrote them on the corner of her fan. "Yes?"</p> +<p>"The last four."</p> +<p>"Yes?"</p> +<p>"And the four in between. What's that on your fan?"</p> +<p>"Nothing."</p> +<p>"But it is. Let me see."</p> +<p>"Will you look at it easy and not tell?" she whispered, taking +advantage of Carter's sudden interest in the judges' stand.</p> +<p>"Sure and I will. Just a peep. Come!"</p> +<p>She opened the fan half-way, and disclosed a tiny picture of +himself sewed on one of the slats.</p> +<p>"And it's meself that you care for, Annette!" he whispered. "I +knew it, you rascal, you rogue!"</p> +<p>"Let g-go my hand," she whispered, half laughing, half scolding. +"Look, Carter, what I have on my fan!" and, to Sandy's +<!-- Page 150 --> +chagrin, she opened the fan on the reverse side and disclosed a +picture of Nelson.</p> +<p>But Carter had neither eyes nor ears for her now. His whole +attention was centered on the ring, where the most important event +of the day was about to take place.</p> +<p>It was a trial of two-year-olds for speed and durability. There +were four entries—two bays, a sorrel, and Carter's own little +thoroughbred "Nettie." He watched her as she pranced around the +ring under Ricks's skilful handling; she had nothing to fear from +the bays, but the sorrel was a close competitor.</p> +<p>"Oh, this is your race, isn't it?" cried Annette as the band +struck up "Dixie." "Where's my namesake? The pretty one just +c-coming, with the ugly driver? Why, he's Sandy's friend, isn't +he?"</p> +<p>Sandy winced under her teasing, but he held his peace.</p> +<p>The first heat Nettie won; the second, the sorrel; the third +brought the grand stand to <!-- Page 151 --> +its feet. Even the revolving procession halted breathless.</p> +<p>"Now they're off!" cried Annette, excitedly. "Mercy, how they +g-go! Nettie is a little ahead; look, Sandy! She's gaining! No; the +sorrel's ahead. Carter, your driver is g-going too close! He's +g-going to smash in—Oh, look!"</p> +<p>There was a crash of wheels and a great commotion. Several women +screamed, and a number of men rushed into the ring. When Sandy got +there, the greater crowd was not around the sorrel's driver, who +lay in a heap against the railing with a broken leg and a bruised +head; it was around Ricks Wilson in angry protest and +indignation.</p> +<p>The most vehement of them all was Judge Hollis,—the big, +easy-going judge,—whose passion, once roused, was a thing to +be reckoned with.</p> +<p>"It was a dastardly piece of cowardice," he cried. "You all saw +what he did! Call the sheriff, there! I intend to prosecute him to +the full extent of the law."</p> +<p><!-- Page 152 --> +Ricks, with snapping eyes and snarling mouth, glanced anxiously +around at the angry faces. He was looking for Carter Nelson, but +Carter had discreetly departed. It was Sandy whom he spied, and +instantly called: "Kilday, you'll see me through this mess? You +know it wasn't none of my fault."</p> +<p>Sandy pushed his way to the judge's side. He had never hated the +sight of Ricks so much as at that moment.</p> +<p>"It's Ricks Wilson," he whispered to the judge—"the boy I +used to peddle with. Don't be sending him to jail, sir. +I'll—I'll go his bail if you'll be letting him go."</p> +<p>"Indeed you won't!" thundered the judge. "You to take money +you've saved for your education to help this scoundrel, this +rascal, this half murderer!"</p> +<p>The crowd shouted its approval as it opened for the sheriff. +Ricks was not the kind to make it easy for his captors, and a +lively skirmish ensued.</p> +<p><!-- Page 153 --> +As he was led away he turned to the crowd back of him and shook his +fist in the judge's face.</p> +<p>"You done this," he cried. "I'll git even with you, if I go to +hell fer it!"</p> +<p>The judge laughed contemptuously, but Sandy watched Ricks depart +with troubled eyes. He knew that he meant what he said.</p> +<p> </p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<!-- Page 154 --> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV</h2> +<p>A COUNCIL OF WAR</p> +<p>While the frivolous-minded of Clayton were bent upon the +festivities of fair week, it must not be imagined that the grave +and thoughtful contingent, which acts as ballast in every +community, was idle.</p> +<p>Mr. Moseley was a self-constituted leader in a crusade against +dancing. At his earnest suggestion, every minister in town agreed +to preach upon the subject at prayer-meeting the Wednesday evening +of the hop.</p> +<p>They held a preliminary meeting before services in the study of +the Hard-Shell Baptist Church. Mr. Moseley occupied the chair, a +Jove of righteousness dispensing <!-- Page 155 --> +thunderbolts of indignation to his satellites. A fringe of scant +hair retreated respectfully from the unadorned dome which crowned +his personal edifice. His manner was most serious and his every +utterance freighted with importance.</p> +<p>Beside him sat his rival in municipal authority, the Methodist +preacher. He had a short upper lip and a square lower jaw, and a +way of glaring out of his convex glasses that gave a comical +imitation of a bullfrog in debate. This was the first occasion in +the history of the town when he and Mr. Moseley had met in friendly +concord. For the last few days the united war upon a common enemy +had knitted their souls in a bond of brotherly affection.</p> +<p>When the half-dozen preachers had assembled, Mr. Moseley rose +with dignity. "My dear brethren," he began impressively, "the +occasion is one which permits of no trifling. The dancing evil is +one which has menaced our community for generations—a viper +to be seized and throttled with a <!-- Page 156 --> +firm hand. The waltz, the—the Highland fling, +the—the—"</p> +<p>"German?" suggested some one faintly.</p> +<p>"Yes, the german—are all invasions of the Evil One. The +crowded rooms, the unholy excitement, are degenerating and +debasing. I am glad to report one young soul who has turned from +temptation and told me only to-day of his intention of refraining +from partaking in the unrighteous amusement of this evening. That, +brethren, was the nephew of my pastor."</p> +<p>The little Presbyterian preacher, thus thrust into the light +cast from the halo of his regenerate nephew, stirred uneasily. He +was contemplating the expediency of his youthful kinsman in making +the lack of a dress-suit serve as a means of lightening his coming +examinations at the academy.</p> +<p>Mr. Moseley, now fully launched upon a flood of eloquence, was +just concluding a brilliant argument. "Look at the round dance!" he +cried. "Who can behold and not shudder?"</p> +<p><!-- Page 157 --> +Mr. Meech, who had not beheld and therefore could not shudder, +ventured a timid inquiry:</p> +<p>"Mr. Moseley, just what is a round dance?"</p> +<p>Mr. Moseley pushed back his chair and wheeled the table nearer +the window. "Will you just step forward, Mr. Meech?"</p> +<p>With difficulty Mr. Meech extricated himself from the corner to +which the pressure of so many guests had relegated him. He slipped +apologetically to the front and took his stand beneath the shadow +of Mr. Moseley's presence. Prayer-meeting being but a semi-official +occasion, he wore his second-best coat, and it had followed the +shrinking habit established by its predecessors.</p> +<p>"Now," commanded Mr. Moseley, "place your hand upon my +shoulder."</p> +<p>Mr. Meech did so with self-conscious gravity and serious +apprehensions as to the revelations to follow.</p> +<p>"Now," continued Mr. Moseley, "I place my arm about your +waist—thus."</p> +<!-- Page 158 --> +<p>"Surely not," objected Mr. Meech, in embarrassment.</p> +<p>But Mr. Moseley was relentless. "I assure you it is true. And +the other hand—" He stopped in grave deliberation. The +Methodist brother, who had been growing more and more overcharged +with suppressed knowledge, could contain himself no longer.</p> +<p>"That's not right at all!" he burst forth irritably. "You don't +hook your arm around like that! You hold the left arm out and saw +it up and down—like this."</p> +<p>He snatched the bewildered Mr. Meech from Mr. Moseley's embrace, +and humming a waltz, stepped briskly about the limited space, to +the consternation of the onlookers, who hastened to tuck their feet +under their chairs.</p> +<p>Mr. Meech, looking as if he were being backed into eternity, +stumbled on the rug and clutched violently at the table-cover. In +his downfall he carried his instructor with <!-- Page 159 --> +him, and a deluge of tracts from the table above followed.</p> +<p>In the midst of the confusion there was a sound from the church +next door. Mr. Meech sat up among the debris and listened. It was +the opening hymn for prayer-meeting.</p> +<p> </p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<!-- Page 160 --> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"></a>CHAPTER XV</h2> +<p>HELL AND HEAVEN</p> +<p>The events of the afternoon, stirring as they had been, were +soon dismissed from Sandy's mind. The approaching hop possessed +right of way over every other thought.</p> +<p>By the combined assistance of Mrs. Hollis and Aunt Melvy, he had +been ready at half-past seven. The dance did not begin until nine; +but he was to take Annette, and the doctor, whose habits were as +fixed as the numbers on a clock, had insisted that she should +attend prayer-meeting as usual before the dance.</p> +<p>In the little Hard-Shell Baptist Church the congregation had +assembled and services had begun before Mr. Meech arrived. He +appeared singularly flushed and breathless, <!-- Page 161 --> +and caused some confusion by giving out the hymn which had just +been sung. It was not until he became stirred by the power of his +theme that he gained composure.</p> +<p>In the front seat Dr. Fenton drowsed through the discourse. Next +to him, her party dress and slipper-bag concealed by a rain-coat, +sat Annette, hot and rebellious, and in anything but a prayerful +frame of mind. Beside her sat Sandy, rigid with elegance, his eyes +riveted on the preacher, but his thoughts on his feet. For, +stationary though he was, he was really giving himself the benefit +of a final rehearsal, and mentally performing steps of intricate +and marvelous variety.</p> +<p>"Stop moving your feet!" whispered Annette. "You'll step on my +dress."</p> +<p>"Is it the mazurka that's got the hiccoughs in the middle?" +asked Sandy, anxiously.</p> +<p>Mr. Meech paused and looked at them over his spectacles in +plaintive reproach.</p> +<p><!-- Page 162 --> +Then he wandered on into sixthlies and seventhlies of increasing +length. Before the final amen had died upon the air, Annette and +Sandy had escaped to their reward.</p> +<p>The hop was given in the town hall, a large, dreary-looking room +with a raised platform at one end, where Johnson's band introduced +instruments and notes that had never met before.</p> +<p>To Sandy it was a hall of Olympus, where filmy-robed goddesses +moved to the music of the spheres.</p> +<p>"Isn't the floor g-grand?" cried Annette, with a little run and +a slide. "I could just d-die dancing."</p> +<p>"What may the chalk line be for?" asked Sandy.</p> +<p>"That's to keep the stags b-back."</p> +<p>"The stags?" His spirits fell before this new complication.</p> +<p>"Yes; the boys without partners, you know. They have to stay +b-back of the chalk line and b-break in from there. You'll catch on +right away. There's your d-dressing-room <!-- Page 163 --> +over there. Don't bother about my card; it's been filled a week. Is +there anyb-body you want to dance with especially?"</p> +<p>Sandy's eyes answered for him. They were held by a vision in the +center of the room, and he was blinded to everything else.</p> +<p>Half surrounded by a little group stood Ruth Nelson, red-lipped, +bright-eyed, eager, her slender white-clad figure on tiptoe with +buoyant expectancy. The crimson rose caught in her hair kept +impatient time to the tap of her restless high-heeled slipper, and +she swayed and sang with the music in a way to set the sea-waves +dancing.</p> +<p>It was small matter to Sandy that the lace on her dress had +belonged to her great-grandmother, or that the pearls about her +round white throat had been worn by an ancestor who was lady in +waiting to a queen of France. He only knew she meant everything +beautiful in the world to him,—music and springtime and +dawn,—and that when she smiled it was sunlight in his +heart.</p> +<!-- Page 164 --> +<p>"I don't think you can g-get a dance there," said Annette, +following his gaze. "She is always engaged ahead. But I'll find +out, if you w-want me to."</p> +<p>"Would you, now?" cried Sandy, fervently pressing her hand. Then +he stopped short. "Annette," he said wistfully, "do you think +she'll be caring to dance with a boy like me?"</p> +<p>"Of course she will, if you k-keep off her toes and don't forget +to count the time. Hurry and g-get off your things; I want you to +try it before the crowd comes. There are only a few couples for you +to bump into now, and there will be a hundred after a while."</p> +<p>O the fine rapture of that first moment when Sandy found he +could dance! Annette knocked away his remaining doubts and fears +and boldly launched him into the merry whirl. The first rush was +breathless, carrying all before it; but after a moment's awful +uncertainty he settled into the step and glided away over the +shining floor, <!-- Page 165 --> +counting his knots to be sure, but sailing triumphantly forward +behind the flutter of Annette's pink ribbons.</p> +<p>He was introduced right and left, and he asked every girl he met +to dance. It made little difference who she happened to be, for in +imagination she was always the same. Annette had secured for him +the last dance with Ruth, and he intended to practise every moment +until that magic hour should arrive.</p> +<p>But youth reckons not with circumstance. Just when all sails +were set and he was nearing perfection, he met with a disaster +which promptly relegated him to the dry-dock. His partner did not +dance!</p> +<p>When he looked at her, he found that she was tall and thin and +vivacious, and he felt that she must have been going to hops for a +very long time.</p> +<p>"I hate dancing, don't you?" she said. "Let's go over there, out +of the crowd, and have a nice long talk."</p> +<p><!-- Page 166 --> +Sandy glanced at the place indicated. It seemed a long way from +base.</p> +<p>"Wouldn't you like to stand here and watch them?" he floundered +helplessly.</p> +<p>"Oh, dear, no; it's too crowded. Besides," she added playfully, +"I have heard <i>so</i> much about you and your awfully romantic +life. I just want to know all about it."</p> +<p>As a trout, one moment in mid-stream swimming and frolicking +with the best, finds himself suddenly snatched out upon the bank, +gasping and helpless, so Sandy found himself high and dry against +the wall, with the insistent voice of his captor droning in his +ears.</p> +<p>She had evidently been wound and set, and Sandy had unwittingly +started the pendulum.</p> +<p>"Have you ever been to Chicago, Mr. Kilday? No? It is such a +dear place; I simply adore it. I'm on my way home from there now. +All my men friends begged me to stay; they sent me so many flowers +I had to keep <!-- Page 167 --> +them in the bath-tub. Wasn't it darling of them? I just love men. +How long have you been in Clayton, Mr. Kilday?"</p> +<p>He tried to answer coherently, but his thoughts were in eager +pursuit of a red rose that flashed in and out among the +dancers.</p> +<p>"And you really came over from England by yourself when you were +just a small boy? Weren't you clever! But I know the captain and +all of them made a great pet of you. Then you made a walking tour +through the States; I heard all about it. It was just too romantic +for any use. I love adventure. My two best friends are at the +theological seminary. One's going to India,—he's a +blond,—and one to Africa. Just between us, I am going with +one of them, but I can't for the life of me make up my mind which. +I don't know why I am telling you all these things, Mr. Kilday, +except that you are so sweet and sympathetic. You understand, don't +you?"</p> +<p>He assured her that he did with more vehemence than was +necessary, for he did not <!-- Page 168 --> +want her to suspect that he had not heard what she said.</p> +<p>"I knew you did. I knew it the moment I shook hands with you. I +felt that we were drawn to each other. I am like you; I am just +full of magnetism."</p> +<p>Sandy unconsciously moved slightly away: he had a sudden +uncomfortable realization that he was the only one within the +sphere of influence.</p> +<p>After two intermissions he suggested that they go out to the +drug-store and get some soda-water. On the steps they met +Annette.</p> +<p>"You old f-fraud," she whispered to Sandy in passing, "I thought +you didn't like to sit out d-dances."</p> +<p>He smiled feebly.</p> +<p>"Don't you mind her teasing," pouted his partner; "if we like to +talk better than to dance, it's our own affair."</p> +<p>Sandy wished devoutly that it was somebody else's. When they +returned, they went back to their old corner. The chairs, evidently +considering them permanent occupants, <!-- Page 169 --> +assumed an air of familiarity which he resented.</p> +<p>"Do you know, you remind me of an old sweetheart of mine," +resumed the voice of his captor, coyly. "He was the first real +lover I ever had. His eyes were big and pensive, just like yours, +and there was always that same look in his face that just made me +want to stay with him all the time to keep him from being lonely. +He was awfully fond of me, but he had to go out West to make his +fortune, and he married before he got back."</p> +<p>Sandy sighed, ostensibly in sympathy, but in reality at his own +sad fate. At that moment Prometheus himself would not have envied +him his state of mind. The music set his nerves tingling and the +dancers beckoned him on, yet he was bound to his chair, with no +relief in view. At the tenth intermission he suggested soda-water +again, after which they returned to their seats.</p> +<p>"I hope people aren't talking about us," she said, with a +pleased laugh. "I oughtn't <!-- Page 170 --> +to have given you all these dances. It's perfectly fatal for a girl +to show such preference for one man. But we are so congenial, and +you do remind me—"</p> +<p>"If it's embarrassing to you—" began Sandy, grasping the +straw with both hands.</p> +<p>"Not one bit," she asserted. "If you would rather have a good +confidential time here with me than to meet a lot of silly little +girls, then I don't care what people say. But, as I was telling +you, I met him the year I came out, and he was interested in me +right off—"</p> +<p>On and on and on she went, and Sandy ceased to struggle. He sank +in his chair in dogged dejection. He felt that she had been talking +ever since he was born, and was going to continue until he died, +and that all he could do was to wait in anguish for the end. He +watched the flushed, happy faces whirling by. How he envied the +boys their wilted collars! After eons and eons of time the band +played "Home, Sweet Home."</p> +<p>"It's the last dance," said she. "Aren't <!-- Page 171 --> +you sorry? We've had a perfectly divine time—" She got no +further, for her partner, faithful through many numbers, had +deserted his post at last.</p> +<p>Sandy pushed eagerly through the crowd and presented himself at +Ruth's side. She was sitting with several boys on the stage steps, +her cheeks flushed from the dance, and a loosened curl falling +across her bare shoulder. He tried to claim his dance, but the +words, too long confined, rushed to his lips so madly as to form a +blockade.</p> +<p>She looked up and saw him—saw the longing and doubt in his +eyes, and came to his rescue.</p> +<p>"Isn't this our dance, Mr. Kilday?" she said, half smiling, half +timidly.</p> +<p>In the excitement of the moment he forgot his carefully +practised bow, and the omission brought such chagrin that he +started out with the wrong foot. There was a gentle, ripping sound, +and a quarter of a yard of lace trailed from the hem of his +partner's skirt.</p> +<!-- Page 172 --> +<p>"Did I put me foot in it?" cried Sandy, in such burning +consternation that Ruth laughed.</p> +<p>"It doesn't matter a bit," she said lightly, as she stooped to +pin it up. "It shows I've had a good time. Come! Don't let's miss +the music."</p> +<p>He took her hand, and they stepped out on the polished floor. +The blissful agony of those first few moments was intolerably +sweet.</p> +<p>She was actually dancing with him (one, two, three; one, two, +three). Her soft hair was close to his cheek (one, two, three; one, +two, three). What if he should miss a step (one, two, +three)—or fall?</p> +<p>He stole a glance at her; she smiled reassuringly. Then he +forgot all about the steps and counting time. He felt as he had +that morning on shipboard when the <i>America</i> passed the +<i>Great Britain</i>. All the joy of boyhood resurged through his +veins, and he danced in a wild abandonment of bliss; for the band +was playing "Home, Sweet <!-- Page 175 --> +Home," and to Sandy it meant that, come what might, within her +shining eyes his gipsy soul had found its final home.</p> +<!-- Page 173 (Illustration) --> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 443px;"><a name="i173" id= +"i173"></a> <img src="images/173.gif" width="443" height="700" alt= +"Illustration: Then he forgot all about the steps and counting time" /> +</div> +<!-- Page 174 (blank facing page) --> +<p>When the music stopped, and they stood, breathless and laughing, +at the dressing-room door, Ruth said:</p> +<p>"I thought Annette told me you were just learning to dance!"</p> +<p>"So I am," said Sandy; "but me heart never kept time for me +before!"</p> +<p>When Annette joined them she looked up at Sandy and smiled.</p> +<p>"Poor f-fellow!" she said sympathetically. "What a perfectly +horrid time you've had!"</p> +<p> </p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<!-- Page 176 --> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI"></a>CHAPTER XVI</h2> +<p>THE NELSON HOME</p> +<p>Willowvale, the Nelson homestead, lay in the last curve of the +river, just before it left the restrictions of town for the freedom +of fields and meadows.</p> +<p>It was a quaint old house, all over honeysuckles and bow-windows +and verandas, approached by an oleander-bordered walk, and +sheltered by a wide circle of poplar-and oak-trees that had nodded +both approval and disapproval over many generations of Nelsons.</p> +<p>In the dining-room, on the massive mahogany table, lunch was +laid for three. Carter sat at the foot, absorbed in a newspaper, +while at the head Mrs. Nelson languidly partook of her second +biscuit. It was vulgar, <!-- Page 177 --> +in her estimation, for a lady to indulge in more than two biscuits +at a meal.</p> +<p>When old Evan Nelson died six years before, he had left the bulk +of his fortune to his two grandchildren, and a handsome allowance +to his eldest son's widow, with the understanding that she was to +take charge of Ruth until that young lady should become of age.</p> +<p>Mrs. Nelson accepted the trust with becoming resignation. The +prospect of guiding a wealthy and obedient young person through the +social labyrinth to an eligible marriage wakened certain faculties +that had long lain dormant. It was not until the wealthy and +obedient young person began to develop tastes of her own that she +found the burden irksome.</p> +<p>Nine months of the year Ruth was at boarding-school, and the +remaining three she insisted upon spending in the old home at +Clayton, where Carter kept his dogs and horses and spent his +summers. Hitherto Mrs. Nelson had compromised with her. By +<!-- Page 178 --> +adroit management she contrived to keep her, for weeks at a time, +at various summer resorts, where she expected her to serve a sort +of social apprenticeship which would fit her for her future +career.</p> +<p>At nineteen Ruth developed alarming symptoms of obstinacy. Mrs. +Nelson confessed tearfully to the rest of the family that it had +existed in embryo for years. Instead of making the most of her +first summer out of school, the foolish girl announced her +intention of going to Willowvale for an indefinite stay.</p> +<p>It was indignation at this state of affairs that caused Mrs. +Nelson to lose her appetite. Clayton was to her the limit of +civilization; there was too much sunshine, too much fresh air, too +much out of doors. She disliked nature in its crude state; she +preferred it softened and toned down to drawing-room pitch.</p> +<p>She glanced up in disapproval as Ruth's laugh sounded in the +hall.</p> +<p>"<!-- Page 179 -->Rachel, tell her that lunch is waiting," she +said to the colored girl at her side.</p> +<p>Carter looked up as Ruth came breezily into the room. She wore +her riding-habit, and her hair was tossed by her brisk morning +canter.</p> +<p>"You don't look as if you had danced all night," he said. "Did +the mare behave herself?"</p> +<p>"She's a perfect beauty, Carter. I rode her round the old +mill-dam, 'cross the ford, and back by the Hollises'. Now I'm +perfectly famished. Some hot rolls, Rachel, and another croquette, +and—and everything you have."</p> +<p>Mrs. Nelson picked several crumbs from the cloth and laid them +carefully on her plate. "When I was a young lady I always slept +after being out in the evening. I had a half-cup of coffee and one +roll brought to me in bed, and I never rose until noon."</p> +<p>"But I hate to stay in bed," said Ruth; "and, besides, I hate to +miss a half-day."</p> +<!-- Page 180 --> +<p>"Is there anything on for this afternoon?" asked Carter.</p> +<p>"Why, yes—" Ruth began, but her aunt finished for her:</p> +<p>"Now, Carter, it's too warm to be proposing anything more. You +aren't well, and Ruth ought to stay at home and put cold cream on +her face. It is getting so burned that her pink evening-dresses +will be worse than useless. Besides, there is absolutely nothing to +do in this stupid place. I feel as if I couldn't stand it all +summer."</p> +<p>This being a familiar opening to a disagreeable subject, the two +young people lapsed into silence, and Mrs. Nelson was constrained +to address her communications to the tea-pot. She glanced about the +big, old-fashioned room and sighed.</p> +<p>"It's nothing short of criminal to keep all this old mahogany +buried here in the country, and the cut-glass and silver. And to +think that the house cannot be sold for two more years! Not until +Ruth is of age! <!-- Page 181 --> +What <i>do</i> you suppose your dear grandfather <i>could</i> have +been thinking of?"</p> +<p>This question, eliciting no reply from the tea-pot, remained +suspended in the air until it attracted Ruth's wandering +attention.</p> +<p>"I beg your pardon, aunt. What grandfather was thinking of? +About the place? Why, I guess he hoped that Carter and I would keep +it."</p> +<p>Carter looked over his paper. "Keep this old cemetery? Not I! +The day it is sold I start for Europe. If one lung is gone and the +other going, I intend to enjoy myself while it goes."</p> +<p>"Carter!" begged Ruth, appealingly.</p> +<p>He laughed. "You ought to be glad to get rid of me, Ruth. You've +bothered your head about me ever since you were born."</p> +<p>She slipped her hand into his as it lay on the table, and looked +at him wistfully.</p> +<p>"The idea of the old governor thinking we'd want to stay here!" +he said, with a curl of the lip.</p> +<!-- Page 182 --> +<p>"Perfectly ridiculous!" echoed Mrs. Nelson.</p> +<p>"I don't know," said Ruth; "it's more like home than any place +else. I don't think I could ever bear to sell it."</p> +<p>"Now, my dear Ruth," said Mrs. Nelson, in genuine alarm, "don't +be sentimental, I beg of you. When once you make your deacute;but, +you'll feel very different about things. Of course the place must +be sold: it can't be rented, and I'm sure you will never get me to +spend another summer in Clayton. You could not stay here +alone."</p> +<p>Ruth sat with her chin in her hands and gazed absently out of +the window. She remembered when that yard was to her as the garden +of Eden. As a child she had been brought here, a delicate, faded +little hot-house plant, and for three wonderful years had been +allowed to grow and blossom at will in the freedom of outdoor life. +The glamour of those old days still clung to the place, and made +her love everything connected with it. The front gate, with its +wide <!-- Page 183 --> +white posts, still held the records of her growth, for each year +her grandfather had stood her against it and marked her progress. +The huge green tub holding the crape myrtle was once a park where +she and Annette had played dolls, and once it had served as a +burying-ground when Carter's sling brought down a sparrow. The ice +house, with its steep roof, recalled a thrilling tobogganing +experience when she was six. Grandfather had laughed over the torn +gown, and bade her do it again.</p> +<p>It was the trees, though, that she loved best of all; for they +were friendly old poplar-trees on which the bark formed itself into +all sorts of curious eyes. One was a wicked old stepfather eye with +a heavy lid; she remembered how she used to tiptoe past it and +pretend to be afraid. Beyond, by the arbor, were two smaller trees, +where a coquettish eye on one looked up to an adoring eye on the +other. She had often built a romance about them as she watched them +peeping at each other through the leaves.</p> +<p><!-- Page 184 --> +Down behind the house the waving fields of blue-grass rippled away +to the little river, where weeping willows hung their heads above +the lazy water, and ferns reached up the banks to catch the +flowers. And the fields and the river and the house and the trees +were hers,—hers and Carter's,—and neither could sell +without the consent of the other. She took a deep breath of +satisfaction. The prospect of living alone in the old homestead +failed to appal her.</p> +<p>"A letter came this morning," said Mrs. Nelson, tracing the +crest on the silver creamer. "It's from your Aunt Elizabeth. She +wants us to spend ten days with her at the shore. They have taken a +handsome cottage next to the Warrentons. You remember young Mr. +Warrenton, Ruth? He is a grandson of Commodore Warrenton."</p> +<p>"Warrenton? Oh, yes, I do remember him—the one that didn't +have any neck."</p> +<p>Mrs. Nelson closed her eyes for a moment, as if praying for +patience; then she went on: "Your Aunt Elizabeth thinks, as I do, +<!-- Page 185 --> +that it is absurd for you to bury yourself down here. She wants you +to meet people of your own class. Do you think you can be ready to +start on Wednesday?"</p> +<p>"Why, we have been here only a week!" cried Ruth. "I am having +such a good time, and—" she broke off impulsively. "But I +know it's dull for you, Aunt Clara. You go, and leave me here with +Carter. I'll do everything you say if you will only let me +stay."</p> +<p>Carter laughed. "One would think that Ruth's sole aim in life +was to cultivate Clayton—the distinguished, exclusive, +aristocratic society of Clayton."</p> +<p>She put her hand on his arm and looked at him pleadingly: +"Please don't laugh at me, Carter! I love it here, and I want to +stay. You know Aunt Elizabeth; you know what her friends are like. +They think I am queer. I can't be happy where they are."</p> +<p>Mrs. Nelson resorted to her smelling-bottle. "Of course my +opinions are of no <!-- Page 186 --> +weight. I only wish to remind you that it would be most impolitic +to offend your Aunt Elizabeth. She could introduce you into the +most desirable set; and even if she is a little—" she +searched a moment for a word—"a little liberal in her views, +one can overlook that on account of her generosity. She is a very +influential woman, Ruth, and a very wealthy one."</p> +<p>Ruth made a quick, impatient gesture. "I don't like her, Aunt +Clara; and I don't want you to ask me to go there."</p> +<p>Mrs. Nelson folded her napkin with tragic deliberation. "Very +well," she said; "it is not my place to urge it. I can only point +out your duty and leave the rest to you. One thing I must speak +about, and that is your associating so familiarly with these +townspeople. They are impertinent; they take advantages, and forget +who we are. Why, the blacksmith had the audacity to refer to the +dear major as 'Bob.'"</p> +<p>"Old Uncle Dan?" asked Ruth, laughing. "I saw him yesterday, and +he shook hands <!-- Page 187 --> +with me and said: 'Golly, sissy, how you've growed!'"</p> +<p>"Ruth," cried Mrs. Nelson, "how can you! Haven't you <i>any</i> +family pride?" The tears came to her eyes, for the invitation to +visit the Hunter-Nelsons was one for which she had angled +skilfully, and its summary dismissal was a sore trial to her.</p> +<p>In a moment Ruth was at her side, all contrition: "I'm sorry, +Aunt Clara; I know I'm a disappointment to you. I'll +try—"</p> +<p>Mrs. Nelson withdrew her hand and directed her injured reply to +Carter. "I have done my duty by your sister. She has been given +every advantage a young lady could desire. If she insists upon +throwing away her opportunities, I can't help it. I suppose I am no +longer to be consulted—no longer to be considered." She +sought the seclusion of her pocket-handkerchief, and her pompadour +swayed with emotion.</p> +<p>Ruth stood at the table, miserably pulling a rose to pieces. +This discussion was an old one, but it lost none of its sting by +repetition. <!-- Page 188 --> +Was she queer and obstinate and unreasonable?</p> +<p>"Ruth's all right," said Carter, seeing her discomfort. "She +will have more sense when she is older. She's just got her little +head turned by all the attention she has had since coming home. +There isn't a boy in the county who wouldn't make love to her at +the drop of her eyelash. She was the belle of the hop last night; +had the boys about her three deep most of the time."</p> +<p>"The hop!" Mrs. Nelson so far forgot herself as to uncover one +eye. "Don't speak of that wretched affair! The idea of her going! +What do you suppose your Aunt Elizabeth would say? A country dance +in a public hall!"</p> +<p>"I only dropped in for the last few dances," said Carter, +pouring himself another glass of wine. "It was beastly hot and +stupid."</p> +<p>"I danced every minute the music played," cried Ruth; "and when +they played, 'Home, Sweet Home,' I could <!-- Page 189 --> +have begun and gone right through it again."</p> +<p>"By the way," said her brother, "didn't I see you dancing with +that Kilday boy?"</p> +<p>"The last dance," said Ruth. "Why?"</p> +<p>"Oh, I was a little surprised, that's all."</p> +<p>Mrs. Nelson, scenting the suggestion in Carter's voice, was +instantly alert.</p> +<p>"Who, pray, is Kilday?"</p> +<p>"Oh, Kilday isn't anybody; that's the trouble. If he had been, +he would never have stayed with that old crank Judge Hollis. The +judge thinks he is appointed by Providence to control this bright +particular burg. He is even attempting to regulate me of late. The +next time he interferes he'll hear from me."</p> +<p>"But Kilday?" urged Mrs. Nelson, feebly persistent.</p> +<p>"Oh, Kilday is good enough in his place. He's a first-class +athlete, and has made a record up at the academy. But he was a +peddler, you know—an Irish peddler; came <!-- Page 190 --> +here three or four years ago with a pack on his back."</p> +<p>"And Ruth danced with him!" Mrs. Nelson's words were punctuated +with horror.</p> +<p>Ruth looked up with blazing eyes. "Yes, I danced with him; why +shouldn't I? You made me dance with Mr. Warrenton, last summer, +when I told you he was drinking."</p> +<p>"But, my dear child, you forget who Mr. Warrenton is. And you +actually danced with a peddler!" Her voice grew faint. "My dear, +this must never occur again. You are young and easily imposed upon. +I will accompany you everywhere in the future. Of course you need +never recognize him hereafter. The impertinence of his addressing +you!"</p> +<p>A step sounded on the gravel outside. Ruth ran to the window and +spoke to some one below. "I'll be there as soon as I change my +habit," she called.</p> +<p>"Who is it?" asked her aunt, hastily arranging her disturbed +locks.</p> +<p>Ruth paused at the door. There was a <!-- Page 191 --> +slight tremor about her lips, but her eyes flashed their first open +declaration of independence.</p> +<p>"It's Mr. Kilday," she said; "we are going out on the +river."</p> +<p>There was an oppressive silence of ten minutes after she left, +during which Carter smiled behind his paper and Mrs. Nelson gazed +indignantly at the tea-pot. Then she tapped the bell.</p> +<p>"Rachel," she said impressively, "go to Miss Ruth's room and get +her veil and gloves and sun-shade. Have Thomas take them to the +boat-house at once."</p> +<p> </p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<!-- Page 192 --> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII"></a>CHAPTER XVII</h2> +<p>UNDER THE WILLOWS</p> +<p>Between willow-fringed banks of softest green, and under the +bluest of summer skies, the little river took its lazy Southern +way. Tall blue lobelias and golden flags played hide-and-seek in +the reflections of the gentle stream, and an occasional spray of +goldenrod, advance-guard of the autumn, stood apart, a silent +warning to the summer idlers.</p> +<p>Somewhere overhead a vireo, dainty poet of bird-land, proclaimed +his love to the wide world; while below, another child of nature, +no less impassioned, no less aching to give vent to the joy that +was bursting his being, sat silent in a canoe that swung softly +with the pulsing of the stream.</p> +<p><!-- Page 193 --> +For Sandy had followed the highroad that led straight into the Land +of Enchantment. No more wanderings by intricate byways up golden +hills to golden castles; the Love Road had led him at last to the +real world of the King Arthur days—the world that was lighted +by a strange and wondrous light of romance, wherein he dwelt, a +knight, waiting and longing to prove his valor in the eyes of his +lady fair.</p> +<p>Burning deeds of prowess rioted in his brain. Oh for dungeons +and towers and forbidding battlements! Any danger was welcome from +which he might rescue her. Fire, flood, or bandits—he would +brave them all. Meanwhile he sat in the prow of the boat, his hands +clasped about his knees, utterly powerless to break the spell of +awkward silence that seemed to possess him.</p> +<!-- Page 195 (Illustration) --> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 700px;"><a name="i195" id= +"i195"></a> <img src="images/195.gif" width="700" height="461" alt= +"Illustration: Burning deeds of prowess rioted in his brain" /></div> +<!-- Page 196 (blank facing page) --> +<p>They had paddled in under the willows to avoid the heat of the +sun, and had tied their boat to an overhanging bough.</p> +<p>Ruth, with her sleeve turned back to the elbow, was trailing her +hand in the cool <!-- Page 194 --> +water and watching the little circles that followed her fingers. +Her hat was off, and her hair, where the sun fell on it through the +leaves, was almost the color of her eyes.</p> +<p>But what was the real color of her eyes? Sandy brought all his +intellect to bear upon the momentous question. Sometimes, he +thought, they were as dark as the velvet shadows in the heart of +the stream; sometimes they were lighted by tiny flames of gold that +sparkled in the brown depths as the sunshine sparkled in the +shadows. They were deep as his love and bright as his hope.</p> +<p>Suddenly he realized that she had asked him a question.</p> +<p>"It's never a word I've heard of what ye are saying!" he +exclaimed contritely. "My mind was on your eyes, and the brown of +them. Do they keep changing color like that all the time?"</p> +<p>Ruth, thus earnestly appealed to, blushed furiously.</p> +<p>"I was talking about the river," she said quickly. "It's jolly +under here, isn't it? <!-- Page 197 --> +So cool and green! I was awfully cross when I came."</p> +<p>"You cross?"</p> +<p>She nodded her head. "And ungrateful, and perverse, and queer, +and totally unlike my father's family." She counted off her +shortcomings on her fingers, and raised her brows in comical +imitation of her aunt.</p> +<p>"A left-hand blessing on the one that said so!" cried Sandy, +with such ardor that she fled to another subject.</p> +<p>"I saw Martha Meech yesterday. She was talking about you. She +was very weak, and could speak only in a whisper, but she seemed +happy."</p> +<p>"It's like her soul was in Heaven already," said Sandy.</p> +<p>"I took her a little picture," went on Ruth; "she loves them so. +It was a copy of one of Turner's."</p> +<p>"Turner?" repeated Sandy. "Joseph Mallord William Turner, born +in London, 1775. Member of the Royal Academy. Died in 1851."</p> +<p><!-- Page 198 --> +She looked so amazed at this burst of information that he +laughed.</p> +<p>"It's out of the catalogue. I learned what it said about the +ones I liked best years ago."</p> +<p>"Where?"</p> +<p>"At the Olympian Exposition."</p> +<p>"I was there," said Ruth; "it was the summer we came home from +Europe. Perhaps that was where I saw you. I know I saw you +somewhere before you came here."</p> +<p>"Perhaps," said Sandy, skipping a bit of bark across the +water.</p> +<p>A band of yellow butterflies on wide wings circled about them, +and one, mistaking Ruth's rosy wet fingers for a flower, settled +there for a long rest.</p> +<p>"Look!" she whispered; "see how long it stays!"</p> +<p>"It's not meself would be blaming it for forgetting to go away," +said Sandy.</p> +<p>They both laughed, then Ruth leaned over the boat's side and +pretended to be absorbed in her reflection in the water. Sandy had +<!-- Page 199 --> +not learned that unveiled glances are improper, and if his lips +refrained from echoing the vireo's song, his eyes were less +discreet.</p> +<p>"You've got a dimple in your elbow!" he cried, with the air of +one discovering a continent.</p> +<p>"I haven't," declared she, but the dimple turned State's +evidence.</p> +<p>The sun had gone under a cloud as the afternoon shadows began to +lengthen, and a light tenderer than sunlight and warmer than +moonlight fell across the river. The water slipped over the stones +behind them with a pleasant swish and swirl, and the mint that was +crushed by the prow of their boat gave forth an aromatic +perfume.</p> +<p>Ever afterward the first faint odor of mint made Sandy close his +eyes in a quick desire to retain the memory it recalled, to bring +back the dawn of love, the first faint flush of consciousness in +the girlish cheeks and the soft red lips, and the quick, uncertain +<!-- Page 200 --> +breath as her heart tried not to catch beat with his own.</p> +<p>"Can't you sing something?" she asked presently. "Annette Fenton +says you know all sorts of quaint old songs."</p> +<p>"They're just the bits I remember of what me mother used to sing +me in the old country."</p> +<p>"Sing the one you like best," demanded Ruth.</p> +<p>Softly, with the murmur of the river ac-companying the song, he +began:</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"><span>"Ah! The moment was sad when my love and +I parted,<br /></span> <span class="i2">Savourneen deelish, signan +O!<br /></span> <span>As I kiss'd off her tears, I was nigh +broken-hearted!—<br /></span> <span class="i2">Savourneen +deelish, signan O!"<br /></span></div> +</div> +<p>Ruth took her hand out of the water and looked at him with +puzzled eyes. "Where have I heard it? On a boat somewhere, and the +moon was shining. I remember the refrain perfectly."</p> +<p>Sandy remembered, too. In a moment he <!-- Page 201 --> +felt himself an impostor and a cheat. He had stumbled into the +Enchanted Land, but he had no right to be there. He buried his head +in his hands and felt the dream-world tottering about him.</p> +<p>"Are you trying to remember the second verse?" asked Ruth.</p> +<p>"No," said he, his head still bowed; "I'm trying to help you +remember the first one. Was it the boat ye came over from Europe +in?"</p> +<p>"That was it!" she cried. "It was on shipboard. I was standing +by the railing one night and heard some one singing it in the +steerage. I was just a little girl, but I've never forgotten that +'Savourneen deelish,' nor the way he sang it."</p> +<p>"Was it a man'?" asked Sandy, huskily.</p> +<p>"No," she said, half frowning in her effort to remember; "it was +a boy—a stowaway, I think. They said he had tried to steal +his way in a life-boat."</p> +<p>"He had!" cried Sandy, raising his head and leaning toward her. +"He stole on <!-- Page 202 --> +board with only a few shillings and a bundle of clothes. He sneaked +his way up to a life-boat and hid there like a thief. When they +found him and punished him as he deserved, there was a little lady +looked down at him and was sorry, and he's traveled over all the +years from then to now to thank her for it."</p> +<p>Ruth drew back in amazement, and Sandy's courage failed for a +moment. Then his face hardened and he plunged recklessly on:</p> +<p>"I've blacked boots, and sold papers; I've fought dogs, and +peddled, and worked on the railroad. Many's the time I've been glad +to eat the scraps the workmen left on the track. And just because a +kind, good man—God prosper his soul!—saw fit to give me +a home and an education, I turned a fool and dared to think I was a +gentleman!"</p> +<p>For a moment pride held Ruth's pity back. Every tradition of her +family threw <!-- Page 203 --> +up a barrier between herself and this son of the soil.</p> +<p>"Why did you come to Kentucky?" she asked.</p> +<p>"Why?" cried Sandy, too miserable to hold anything back. +"Because I saw the name of the place on your bag at the pier. I +came here for the chance of seeing you again, of knowing for sure +there was something good and beautiful in the world to offset all +the bad I'd seen. Every page I've learned has been for you, every +wrong thought I've put out of me mind has been to make more room +for you. I don't even ask ye to be my friend; I only ask to be +yours, to see ye sometime, to talk to you, and to keep ye first in +my heart and to serve ye to the end."</p> +<p>The vireo had stopped singing and was swinging on a bough above +them.</p> +<p>Ruth sat very still and looked straight before her. She had +never seen a soul laid bare before, and the sight thrilled and +<!-- Page 204 --> +troubled her. All the petty artifices which the world had taught +her seemed useless before this shining candor.</p> +<p>"And—and you've remembered me all this time?" she asked, +with a little tremble in her voice. "I did not know people cared +like that."</p> +<p>"And you're not sorry?" persisted Sandy. "You'll let me be your +friend?"</p> +<p>She held out her hand with an earnestness as deep as his own. In +an instant he had caught it to his lips. All the bloom of the +summer rushed to her cheeks, and she drew quickly away.</p> +<p>"Oh! but I'll take it back—I never meant it," cried Sandy, +wild with remorse. "Me heart crossed the line ahead of me head, +that was all. You've given me your friendship, and may the sorrow +seize me if I ever ask for more!"</p> +<p>At this the vireo burst into such mocking, derisive laughter of +song that they both looked up and smiled.</p> +<p>"He doesn't think you mean it," said <!-- Page 205 --> +Ruth; "but you must mean it, else I can't ever be your friend."</p> +<p>Sandy shook his fist at the bird.</p> +<p>"You spalpeen, you! If I had ye down here I'd throw ye out of +the tree! But you mustn't believe him. I'll stick to my word as the +wind to the tree-tops. No—I don't mean that. As the stream to +the shore. No-"</p> +<p>He stopped and laughed. All figures of speech conspired to make +him break his word.</p> +<p>Somewhere from out the forgotten world came six long, lingering +strokes of a bell. Sandy and Ruth untied the canoe and paddled out +into midstream, leaving the willow bower full of memories and the +vireo still hopping about among the branches.</p> +<p>"I'll paddle you up to the bridge," said Ruth; "then you will be +near the post-office."</p> +<p>Sandy's voice was breaking to say that she could paddle him up +to the moon if she would only stay there between him and the +<!-- Page 206 --> +sun, with her hair forming a halo about her face. But they were +going down-stream, and all too soon he was stepping out of the +canoe to earth again.</p> +<p>"And will I have to be waiting till the morrow to see you?" he +asked, with his hand on the boat.</p> +<p>"To-morrow? Not until Sunday."</p> +<p>"But Sunday is a month off! You'll be coming for the mail?"</p> +<p>"We send for the mail," said Ruth, demurely.</p> +<p>"Then ye'll be sending in vain for yours. I'll hold it back till +ye come yourself, if I lose my position for it."</p> +<p>Ruth put three feet of water between them, then she looked up +with mischief in her eyes. "I don't want you to lose your +position," she said.</p> +<p>"Then you'll come?"</p> +<p>"Perhaps."</p> +<p>Sandy watched her paddle away straight into the heart of the +sun. He climbed the bank and waved her out of sight. He had +<!-- Page 207 --> +to use a maple branch, for his hat and handkerchief, not to mention +less material possessions, were floating down-stream in the boat +with Ruth.</p> +<p>"Hello, Kilday!" called Dr. Fenton from the road above. "Going +up-town? I'll give you a lift."</p> +<p>Sandy turned and looked up at the doctor impatiently. The +presence of other people in the world seemed an intrusion.</p> +<p>"I've been out to the Meeches' all afternoon," said the doctor, +wearily, mopping his face with a red-bordered handkerchief.</p> +<p>"Is Martha worse?" asked Sandy, in quick alarm.</p> +<p>"No, she's better," said the doctor, gruffly; "she died at four +o'clock."</p> +<p> </p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<!-- Page 208 --> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII"></a>CHAPTER +XVIII</h2> +<p>THE VICTIM</p> +<p>Some poet has described love as a little glow and a little +shiver; to Sandy it was more like a ravaging fire in his heart, +which lighted up a world of such unutterable bliss that he +cheerfully added fresh fuel to the flames that were consuming him. +The one absorbing necessity of his existence was to see Ruth daily, +and the amount of strategy, forethought, and subtilty with which he +accomplished it argued well for his future ability at the bar.</p> +<p>In the long hours of the night Wisdom urged prudence; she +presented all the facts in the case, and convinced him of his +folly. But with the dawn he threw discretion to <!-- Page 209 --> +the winds, and rushed valiantly forward, leading a forlorn hope +under cover of a little Platonic flag of truce.</p> +<p>With all the fervor and intensity of his nature he tried to fit +himself to Ruth's standards. Every unconscious suggestion that she +let fall, through word, or gesture, or expression, he took to heart +and profited by. With almost passionate earnestness he sought to be +worthy of her. Fighting, climbing, struggling upward, he closed his +eyes to the awful depth to which he would fall if his quest were +vain.</p> +<p>Meanwhile his cheeks became hollow and he lost his appetite. The +judge attributed it to Martha Meech's death; for Sandy's genuine +grief and his continued kindness to the bereft neighbors confirmed +an old suspicion. Mrs. Hollis thought it was malaria, and dosed him +accordingly. It was Aunt Melvy who made note of his symptoms and +diagnosed his case correctly.</p> +<p>"He's sparkin' some gal, Miss Sue; dat's what ails him," she +said one evening <!-- Page 210 --> +as she knelt on the sitting-room hearth to kindle the first fire of +the season. "Dey ain't but two t'ings onder heaben dat'll keep a +man f'om eatin'. One's a woman, t' other is lack ob food."</p> +<p>Judge Hollis looked over his glasses and smiled.</p> +<p>"Who do you think the lady is, Melvy?"</p> +<p>Aunt Melvy wagged her head knowingly as she held a paper across +the fireplace to start the blaze.</p> +<p>"I ain't gwine tell no tales on Mist' Sandy. But yer can't fool +dis heah ole nigger. I mind de signs; I knows mo' 'bout de young +folks in dis heah town den dey t'ink I do. Fust t'ing you know, I'm +gwine tell on some ob 'em, too. I 'spect de doctor would put' near +die ef he knowed dat Miss Annette was a-havin' incandescent +meetin's wif Carter Nelson 'most ever' day."</p> +<p>"Is Sandy after Annette, too?"</p> +<p>"No, sonny, no!" said Aunt Melvy, to whom all men were "sonny" +until they died of old age. "Mist' Sandy he's aimin' at +<!-- Page 211 -->high game. He's fix' his eyeball on de +shore-'nough quality."</p> +<p>"Do you mean Ruth Nelson?" asked Mrs. Hollis, snapping her +scissors sharply. "He surely wouldn't be fool enough to think she +would look at him. Why, the Nelsons think they are the only +aristocratic people that ever lived in Clayton. If they had paid +less attention to their ancestors and more to their descendants, +they might have had a better showing."</p> +<p>"I nebber said it was Miss Rufe," said Aunt Melvy from the +doorway; "but den ag'in I don't say hit ain't."</p> +<p>"Well, I hope it's not," said the judge to his wife as he laid +down his paper; "though I must say she is as pretty and friendly a +girl as I ever saw. No matter how long she stays away, she is +always glad to see everybody when she comes back. Some of old +Evan's geniality must have come down to her."</p> +<p>"Geniality!" cried Mrs. Hollis. "It was mint-juleps and brandy +and soda. He was <!-- Page 212 -->just as snobbish as the rest of +them when he was sober. If she has any good in her, it's from her +mother's side of the house."</p> +<p>"I hope Sandy isn't interested there," went on the judge, +thoughtfully. "It would not do him any good, and would spoil his +taste for what he could get. How long has it been going on, +Sue?"</p> +<p>"He's been acting foolish for a month, but it gets worse all the +time. He moons around the house, with his head in the clouds, and +sits up half the night hanging out of his window. He has raked out +all those silly old poetry-books of yours, and I find them strewn +all over the house. Here's one now; look at those pencil-marks all +round the margin!"</p> +<p>"Some of the marks were there before," said the judge, as he +read the title.</p> +<p>"Then there are more fools than one in the world. Here is where +he has turned down a leaf. Now just read that bosh and +nonsense!"</p> +<p><!-- Page 213 -->The judge took the book from her hand and read +with a reminiscent smile:</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"><span>"When cold in the earth lies the friend +thou hast loved,<br /></span> <span class="i2">Be his faults and +his follies forgot by thee then;<br /></span> <span>Or if from +their slumber the veil be removed,<br /></span> <span class= +"i2">Weep o'er them in silence and close it again.<br /></span> +<span>And, oh! if 't is pain to remember how far<br /></span> +<span class="i2">From the pathway of light he was tempted to +roam,<br /></span> <span>Be it bliss to remember that thou wert the +star<br /></span> <span class="i2">That arose on his darkness and +guided him home."<br /></span></div> +</div> +<p>The judge paused, with his eyes on the fire; then he said: "I +think I'll wait up for the boy to-night, Sue. I want to tell him +the good news myself. You haven't spoken of it?"</p> +<p>"No, indeed. I haven't seen him since breakfast. Melvy says he +spends his spare time on the river. That's what's giving him the +malaria, too, you mark my words."</p> +<p>It was after eleven when Sandy's step sounded on the porch. At +the judge's call he opened the sitting-room door and stood +<!-- Page 214 --> +dazed by the sudden light. The judge noticed that he was pale and +dejected, and he suppressed a smile over the imaginary troubles of +youth.</p> +<p>"What's the matter? Are you sick?" he asked.</p> +<p>"No, sir."</p> +<p>"Come in to the fire; it's a bit chilly these nights."</p> +<p>Sandy dropped listlessly into a chair, with his back to the +light.</p> +<p>"There are several things I want to talk over," continued the +judge. "One is about Ricks Wilson. He has behaved very badly ever +since that affair in August. Everybody who goes near the jail comes +away with reports of his threats against me. He seems to think I am +holding his trial over until January, when the fact is I have been +trying to get him released on your account. It is of no use, +though; he will have to wait his turn."</p> +<p>"I'm sorry, sir," said Sandy, without looking up.</p> +<!-- Page 215 --> +<p>"Then there's Carter Nelson encouraging him in his feeling +against me. It seems that Nelson wants the fellow to drive for him +at the fall trots, and he has given me no end of trouble about +getting him off. What an insolent fellow Nelson is! He talked very +ugly in my office yesterday, and made various threats about making +me regret any interference. I wouldn't have stood it from any one +else; but Carter is hardly responsible. I have watched him from the +time he was born. He came into the world with a mortal illness, and +I doubt if he ever had a well day in his life. He's a degenerate, +Sandy; he's bearing the sins of a long line of dissolute ancestors. +We have to be patient with men like that; we have to look on them +as we do on the insane."</p> +<p>He waited for some response, but, getting none, pulled his chair +in confidential proximity and laid his hand on Sandy's knee. +"However, that's neither here nor there," he said. "I have a +surprise for you. I <!-- Page 216 --> +couldn't let you go to bed without telling you about it. It's about +your future, Sandy. I've been talking it over with Mr. Moseley, and +he is confident—"</p> +<p>Suddenly Sandy rose and stood by the table.</p> +<p>"Don't be making any more plans for me," he said desperately; +"I've made up me mind to enlist."</p> +<p>"Enlist! In the army?"</p> +<p>"Yes; I've got to get away. I must go so far that I can't come +back; and, judge—I want to go to-morrow!"</p> +<p>"Is it money matters?"</p> +<p>A long silence followed—of the kind that ripens +confidence. Presently Sandy lifted his haggard eyes: "It's nothing +I'm ashamed of, judge; ye must take me word for that. It's like +taking the heart out of me body to go, but I've made up me mind. +Nothing on earth can change me purpose; I enlist on the +morrow."</p> +<p>The judge looked at him long and earnestly <!-- Page 217 --> +over his glasses, then he asked in calm, judicial tones: "Is her +answer final?"</p> +<p>Sandy started from his chair. How finite intelligence could have +discovered the innermost secret of his soul seemed little short of +miraculous. But the relief of being able to pour out his feelings +mastered all other considerations.</p> +<p>"Oh, sir, there was never a question. Like the angel she is, she +let me be near her so long as I held my peace; but, fool that I am, +I break me promise again and again. I can't keep silent when I see +her. The truth would burst from me lips if I was dumb."</p> +<p>"And you think you would be better if you were out of her +sight?"</p> +<p>"Is a starving man better when he is away from food?" asked +Sandy, fiercely. "Heaven knows it's not of meself I'm thinking. +It's breaking her tender heart to see me misery staring her in the +face, and I'll put it out of her sight."</p> +<p>"Is it Ruth?" asked the judge.</p> +<p><!-- Page 218 --> +Sandy assented with bowed head.</p> +<p>The judge got up and stood before the fire.</p> +<p>"Didn't you know," he began as kindly as he could put it, "that +you were not in her—that is, that she was not of +your—"</p> +<p>Sandy lifted blazing eyes, hot with the passion of youth.</p> +<p>"If she'd been in heaven and I'd been in hell, I'd have +stretched out my arms to her still!"</p> +<p>Something in his eyes, in his voice, in his intensity, brought +the judge to his side.</p> +<p>"How long has this thing been going on?" he asked seriously.</p> +<p>"Four years!"</p> +<p>"Before you came here?"</p> +<p>"Yes."</p> +<p>"You followed her here?"</p> +<p>"Yes."</p> +<p>Whereupon the judge gave vent to the one profane word in his +vocabulary.</p> +<p>Then Sandy, having confided so far, made a clean breast of it, +breaking down <!-- Page 219 --> +at the end when he tried to describe Ruth's goodness and the sorrow +his misery had caused her.</p> +<p>When it was over the judge had hold of his hand and was +bestowing large, indiscriminate pats upon his head and +shoulders.</p> +<p>"It's hard luck, Sandy; hard luck. But you must brace up, boy. +Everybody wants something in the world he can't get. We all go +under, sooner or later, with some wish ungratified. Now I've always +wanted—" he pressed his fingers on his lips for a moment, +then went on—"the one thing I've wanted was a son. It seemed +to me there was nothing else in the world would make up to me for +that lack. I had money more than enough, and health and friends; +but I wanted a boy. When you came I said to Sue: 'Let's keep him a +while just to see how it would feel.' It's been worth while, Sandy; +you have done me credit. It almost seemed as if the Lord didn't +mean me to be disappointed, after all. And to-day, when Mr. Moseley +said you ought to have a year <!-- Page 220 --> +or two at the big university, I said: 'Why not? He's just like my +own. I'll send him this year and next, and then he can come home +and be a comfort to me all the rest of my days.' That's what I was +sitting up to tell you, Sandy; but now—"</p> +<p>"And ye sha'n't be disappointed!" cried Sandy. "I'll go anywhere +you say, do anything you wish. Only you wouldn't be asking me to +stay here?"</p> +<p>"Not now, Sandy; not for a while."</p> +<p>"Never!—so long as she's here. I'll never bring me sorrow +between her and the sun again-so help me, Heaven! And if the Lord +gives me strength, I'll never see her face again, so long as I +live!"</p> +<p>"Go to bed, boy; go to bed. You are tired out. We will ship you +off to the university next week."</p> +<p>"Can't I be going to-morrow? Friday, then? I'd never dare trust +meself over the week."</p> +<p>"Friday, then. But mind, no more prancing to-night; we must both +go to bed."</p> +<p><!-- Page 221 --> +Neither of them did so, however. Sandy went to his room and sat in +his window, watching a tiny light that flickered, far across the +valley, in the last bend of the river before it left the town. His +muscles were tense, his nerves a-tingle, as he strained his eyes in +the darkness to keep watch of the beacon. It was the last glimpse +of home to a sailor who expected never to return.</p> +<p>Down in the sitting-room the judge was lost in the pages of a +worn old copy of Tom Moore. He fingered the pages with a tenderness +of other days, and lingered over the forgotten lines with a +half-quizzical, half-sad smile on his lips. For he had been a lover +once, and Sandy's romance stirred dead leaves in his heart that +sent up a faint perfume of memory.</p> +<p>"Yes," he mused half aloud; "I marked that one too:</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"><span>"Be it bliss to remember that thou wert +the star<br /></span> <span class="i3">That arose on his darkness +and guided him home."<br /></span></div> +</div> +<p> </p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<!-- Page 222 --> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIX" id="CHAPTER_XIX"></a>CHAPTER XIX</h2> +<p>THE TRIALS OF AN ASSISTANT POSTMASTER</p> +<p>By all laws of mercy the post-master in a small town should be +old and mentally near-sighted. Jimmy Reed was young and curious. He +had even yielded to temptation once in removing a stamp on a letter +from Annette Fenton to a strange suitor. Not that he wanted to +delay the letter. He only wanted to know if she put tender messages +under the stamp when she wrote to other people.</p> +<p>During the two years Sandy remained at the university, Jimmy +handed his letters out of the post-office window to the judge once +a week, following them half-way with his body to pick up the verbal +crumbs of interest the judge might let fall while perusing +<!-- Page 223 --> + them. The supremacy which Sandy had established in the base-ball +days had lent him a permanent halo in the eyes of the younger boys +of Clayton. "Letter from Sandy this morning," Jimmy would announce, +adding somewhat anxiously, "Ain't he on the team yet?"</p> +<p>The judge was obliging and easy-going, and he frequently +gratified Jimmy's curiosity.</p> +<p>"No; he's studying pretty hard these days. He says he is through +with athletics."</p> +<p>"Does he like it up there?"</p> +<p>"Oh, yes, yes; I guess he likes it well enough," the judge would +answer tentatively; "but I am afraid he's working too hard."</p> +<p>"Looks like a pity to spoil such a good pitcher," said Jimmy, +thoughtfully. "I never saw him lose but one game, and that nearly +killed him."</p> +<p>"Disappointment goes hard with him," said the judge, and he +sighed.</p> +<p><!-- Page 224 -->Jimmy's chronic interest developed into acute +curiosity the second winter—about the time the Nelsons +returned to Clayton after a long absence.</p> +<p>On Thanksgiving morning he found two letters bearing his hero's +handwriting. One was to Judge Hollis and one to Miss Ruth Nelson. +The next week there were also two, both of which went to Miss +Nelson. After that it became a regular occurrence.</p> +<p>Jimmy recognized two letters a week from one person to one +person as a danger-signal. His curiosity promptly rose to +fever-heat. He even went so far as to weigh the letters, and +roughly to calculate the number of pages in each. Once or twice he +felt something hard inside, and upon submitting the envelop to his +nose, he distinguished the faint fragrance of pressed flowers. It +was perhaps a blessing in disguise that the duty of sorting the +outgoing mail did not fall to his lot. One added bit of information +would have resulted in spontaneous combustion.</p> +<p><!-- Page 225 --> +By and by letters came daily, their weight increasing until they +culminated, about Christmas-time, in a special-delivery letter +which bristled under the importance of its extra stamp.</p> +<p>The same morning the telegraph operator stopped in to ask if the +Nelsons had been in for their mail. "I have a message for Miss +Nelson, but I thought they started for California this +morning."</p> +<p>"It's to-morrow morning they go," said Jimmy. "I'll send the +message out. I've got a special letter for her, and they can both +go out by the same boy."</p> +<p>When the operator had gone, Jimmy promptly unfolded the yellow +slip, which was innocent of envelop.</p> +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>Do not read special-delivery letter. Will explain.</p> +<p>S.K.</p> +</div> +<p>For some time he sat with the letter in one hand and the message +in the other. Why had Sandy written that huge letter if he did not +want her to read it? Why didn't <!-- Page 226 --> +he want her to read it? Questions buzzed about him like bees.</p> +<p>Large ears are said to be indicative of an inquisitive nature. +Jimmy's stood out like the handles on a loving-cup. With all this +explosive material bottled up in him, he felt like a torpedo-boat +deprived of action.</p> +<p>After a while he got up and went into the drug-store next door. +When he came back he made sure he was alone in the office. Then he +propped up the lid of his desk with the top of his head, in a +manner acquired at school, and hiding behind this improvised +screen, he carefully took from his pocket a small bottle of +gasolene. Pouring a little on his handkerchief, he applied it to +the envelop of the special-delivery letter.</p> +<p>As if by magic, the words within showed through; and by frequent +applications of the liquid the engrossed Jimmy deciphered the +following:</p> +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>—like the moan of the sea in my heart, and it<br /> +will not be still. Heart, body, and soul will call<br /> +to you, Ruth, so long as the breath is in my body.<br /> +<!-- Page 227 --> +I have not the courage to be your friend. I swear,<br /> +with all the strength I have left, never to see you<br /> +nor write you again. God bless you, my—</p> +</div> +<p>A noise at the window brought Jimmy to the surface. It was +Annette Fenton, and she seemed nervous and excited.</p> +<p>"Mercy, Jimmy! What's the m-matter? You looked like you were +caught eating doughnuts in study hour. What a funny smell! Say, +Jimmy; don't you want to do something for me?"</p> +<p>Jimmy had spent his entire youth in urging her to accept +everything that was his, and he hailed this as a good omen.</p> +<p>"I have a l-letter here for dad," she went on, fidgeting about +uneasily and watching the door. "I don't want him to g-get it until +after the last train goes to-night. Will you see that he d-doesn't +get it before nine o'clock?"</p> +<p>Jimmy took the letter and looked blankly from it to Annette.</p> +<p>"Why, it's from you!"</p> +<p>"What if it is, you b-booby?" she cried <!-- Page 228 --> +sharply; then she changed her tactics and looked up appealingly +through the little square window.</p> +<p>"Oh, Jimmy, do help me out! That's a d-dear! I'm in no end of a +scrape. You'll do as I ask, now w-w-won't you?"</p> +<p>Jimmy surrendered on the spot.</p> +<p>"Now," said Annette, greatly relieved, "find out what time the +d-down train starts, and if it's on time."</p> +<p>"It ought to start at three," reported Jimmy after consulting +the telegraph operator. "It's an hour late on account of the snow. +Expecting somebody?"</p> +<p>She shook her head.</p> +<p>"Going to the city yourself?"</p> +<p>"Of course not. Whatever made you think that?" she cried with +unnecessary vehemence. Then, changing the subject abruptly, she +added: "G-guess who has come home?"</p> +<p>"Who?" cried Jimmy, with palpitating ears.</p> +<p>"Sandy Kilday. You never saw anybody <!-- Page 229 --> +look so g-grand. He's gotten to be a regular swell, and he walks +like this."</p> +<p>Annette held her umbrella horizontally, squared her shoulders, +and swung bravely across the room.</p> +<p>"Sandy Kilday?" gasped Jimmy, with a clutch at the letter in his +pocket. "Where's he at?"</p> +<p>"He's trying to get up from the d-depot. He has been an hour +coming two squares. Everybody has stopped him, from Mr. Moseley on +down to the b-blacksmith's twins."</p> +<p>"Is he coming this way?" asked Jimmy, wild-eyed and anxious.</p> +<p>Annette stepped to the window.</p> +<p>"Yes; they are crossing the street now." She opened the sash +and, snatching a handful of snow, rolled it into a ball, which she +sailed out of the window. It was promptly answered by one from +below, which whirled past her and shattered itself against the +wall.</p> +<p>"Dare, dare, double dare!" she called as she flung handfuls of +loose snow from the <!-- Page 230 --> +window-ledge. A quick volley of balls followed, then the door burst +open. Sandy and Ruth Nelson stood laughing on the threshold.</p> +<p>"Hello, partner!" sang out Sandy to Jimmy. "Still at the old +work, I see! Do you mind how you taught me to count the change when +I first sold stamps?"</p> +<p>Jimmy tried to smile, but his effort was a failure. The +interesting tangle of facts and circumstances faded from his mind, +and he resorted instinctively to nature's first law. With an +agitated countenance, he sought self-preservation by waving Sandy's +letter behind him in a frantic effort to banish, if possible, the +odor of his guilt.</p> +<p>Sandy stayed at the door with Annette, but Ruth came to the +window and asked for her mail. When she smiled at the contrite +Jimmy she scattered the few remaining ideas that lingered in his +brain. With crimson face and averted eyes, he handed her the +letter, forgetting that telegrams existed.</p> +<p><!-- Page 231 --> +He saw her send a quick, puzzled glance from the letter to Sandy; +he saw her turn away from the door and tear open the envelop; then, +to his everlasting credit, he saw no more.</p> +<p>When he ventured forth from behind his desk the office was +empty. He made a cautious survey of the premises; then, opening a +back window, he seized a small bottle by the neck and hurled it +savagely against the brick wall opposite.</p> +<p> </p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<!-- Page 232 --> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XX" id="CHAPTER_XX"></a><b>CHAPTER XX</b></h2> +<p>THE IRONY OF CHANCE</p> +<p>The snow, which had begun as an insignificant flurry in the +morning, developed into a storm by afternoon.</p> +<p>Four miles from town, in a dreary stretch of country, a +dejected-looking object tramped along the railroad-track. His hat +was pulled over his eyes and his hands were thrust in his pockets. +Now and again he stopped, listened, and looked at his watch.</p> +<p>It was Sandy Kilday, and he was waiting for the freight-train +with the fixed intention of committing suicide.</p> +<p>The complications arising from Jimmy Reed's indiscretion had +resulted disastrously. When Sandy found that Ruth had +<!-- Page 233 --> +read his letter, his common sense took flight. Instead of a +supplicant, he became an invader, and stormed the citadel with such +hot-headed passion and fervor that Ruth fled in affright to the +innermost chamber of her maidenhood, and there, barred and +barricaded, withstood the siege.</p> +<p>His one desire in life now was to quit it. He felt as if he had +read his death-warrant, and it was useless ever again to open his +eyes on this gray, impossible world.</p> +<p>He did not know how far he had come. Everything about him was +strange and unfriendly: the woods had turned to gaunt and gloomy +skeletons that shivered and moaned in the wind; the sunny fields of +ragweed were covered with a pall; and the river—his dancing, +singing river—was a black and sullen stream that closed +remorselessly over the dying snowflakes. His woods, his fields, his +river,—they knew him not; he stared at them blankly and they +stared back at him.</p> +<p>A rabbit, frightened at his approach, jumped out of the bushes +and went bounding <!-- Page 234 --> +down the track ahead of him. The sight of the round little +cottontail leaping from tie to tie brought a momentary diversion; +but he did not want to be diverted.</p> +<p>With an effort he came back to his stern purpose. He forced +himself to face the facts and the future. What did it matter if he +was only twenty-one, with his life before him? What satisfaction +was it to have won first honors at the university? There was but +one thing in the world that made life worth living, and that was +denied him. Perhaps after he was gone she would love him.</p> +<p>This thought brought remarkable consolation. He pictured to +himself her remorse when she heard the tragic news. He attended in +spirit his own funeral, and even saw her tears fall upon his still +face. Meanwhile he listened impatiently for the train.</p> +<p>Instead of the distant rumble of the cars, he heard on the road +below the sound of a horse's hoofs, quickly followed by voices. +Slipping behind the embankment, he waited for the vehicle to pass. +The horse was evidently <!-- Page 235 --> +walking, and the voices came to him distinctly.</p> +<p>"I'm not a coward—any s-such thing! We oughtn't to have +c-come, in the first place. I can't go with you. Please turn round, +C-Carter,—please!"</p> +<p>There was no mistaking that high, childlike voice, with its +faltering speech.</p> +<p>Sandy's gloomy frown narrowed to a scowl. What business had +Annette out there in the storm? Where was she going with Carter +Nelson?</p> +<p>He quickened his steps to keep within sight of the slow-moving +buggy.</p> +<p>"There's nothing out this road but the Junction," he thought, +trying to collect his wits. "Could they be taking the train there? +He goes to California in the morning, but where's he taking Nettie +to-day? And she didn't want to be going, either; didn't I hear her +say it with her own lips?"</p> +<p>He moved cautiously forward, now running a few paces to keep up, +now crouching behind the bushes. Every sense was keenly +<!-- Page 236 --> +alert; his eyes never left the buggy for a moment.</p> +<p>When the freight thundered up the grade, he stepped mechanically +to one side, keeping a vigilant eye on the couple ahead, and +begrudging the time he lost while the train went by. It was not +until an hour later that he remembered he had forgotten to commit +suicide.</p> +<p>Stepping back on the ties, he hurried forward. He was convinced +now that they meant to take the down train which would pass the +Clayton train at the Junction in half an hour. Something must be +done to save Annette. The thought of her in the city, at the mercy +of the irresponsible Carter, sent him running down the track. He +waited until he was slightly in advance before he descended +abruptly upon them.</p> +<p>Annette was sitting very straight, talking excitedly, and Carter +was evidently trying to reassure her.</p> +<p>As Sandy plunged down the embankment, they started apart, and +Carter reached for <!-- Page 237 --> +the whip. Before he could urge the horse forward, Sandy had swung +himself lightly to the step of the buggy, and was leaning back +against the dash-board. He looked past Carter to Annette. She was +making a heroic effort to look unconcerned and indifferent, but her +eyelids were red, and her handkerchief was twisted into a damp +little string about her fingers. Sandy wasted no time in diplomacy; +he struck straight out from the shoulder.</p> +<p>"If it's doing something you don't want to, you don't have to, +Nettie. I'm here."</p> +<p>Carter stopped his horse.</p> +<p>"Will you get down?" he demanded angrily.</p> +<p>"After you," said Sandy.</p> +<p>Carter measured his man, then stepped to the ground. Sandy +promptly followed.</p> +<p>"And now," said Carter, "you'll perhaps be good enough to +explain what you mean."</p> +<p>Sandy still kept his hand on the buggy <!-- Page 238 --> +and his eyes on Annette; when he spoke it was to her.</p> +<p>"If it's your wish to go on, say the word."</p> +<p>The tearful young person in the buggy looked very limp and +miserable, but declined to make any remarks.</p> +<p>"Miss Fenton and I expect to be married this evening," said +Carter, striving for dignity, though his breath came short with +excitement. "We take the train in twenty minutes. Your interference +is not only impudent—it's useless. I know perfectly well who +sent you: it was Judge Hollis. He was the only man we met after we +left town. Just return to him, with my compliments, and tell him I +say he is a meddler and a fool!"</p> +<p>"Annette," said Sandy, softly, coming toward her, "the doctor'll +be wanting his coffee by now."</p> +<p>"Let me pass," cried Carter, "you common hound! Take your foot +off that step or I'll—" He made a quick motion toward +<!-- Page 239 --> +his hip, and Sandy caught his hand as it closed on a pearl-handled +revolver.</p> +<p>"None of that, man! I'll be going when I have her word. Is it +good-by, Annette? Must I be taking the word to your father that +you've left him now and for always? Yes? Then a shake of the hand +for old times' sake."</p> +<p>Annette slipped a cold little hand into his free one, and +feeling the solid grasp of his broad palm, she clung to it as a +drowning man clings to a spar.</p> +<p>"I can't go!" she cried, in a burst of tears. "I can't leave dad +this way! Make him take me b-back, Sandy! I want to go home!"</p> +<p>Carter stood very still and white. His thin body was trembling +from head to foot, and the veins stood out on his forehead like +whip-cord. He clenched his hands in an effort to control himself. +At Annette's words he stepped aside with elaborate courtesy.</p> +<p>"You are at perfect liberty to go with <!-- Page 240 --> +Mr. Kilday. All I ask is that he will meet me as soon as we get +back to town."</p> +<p>"I can't go b-back on the train!" cried Annette, with a glance +at her bags and boxes. "Every one would suspect something if I did. +Oh, why d-did I come?"</p> +<p>"My buggy is at your disposal," said Carter; "perhaps your +disinterested friend, Mr. Kilday, could be persuaded to drive you +back."</p> +<p>"But, Carter," cried Annette, in quick dismay, "you must come, +too. I'll bring dad r-round; I always do. Then we can be married at +home, and I can have a veil and a r-ring and presents."</p> +<p>She smiled at him coaxingly, but he folded his arms and +scowled.</p> +<p>"You go with me to the city, or you go back to Clayton with him. +You have just three minutes to make up your mind."</p> +<!-- Page 241 (Illustration) --> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 474px;"><a name="i241" id= +"i241"></a> <img src="images/241.gif" width="474" height="700" alt= +"Illustration: Sandy saw her waver" /></div> +<!-- Page 242 (blank facing page) --> +<p>Sandy saw her waver. The first minute she looked at him, the +second at Carter. He took no chances on the third. With a quick +<!-- Page 243 --> +bound, he was in the buggy and turning the horse homeward.</p> +<p>"But I've decided to go with Carter!" cried Annette, +hysterically. "Turn b-back, Sandy! I've changed my mind."</p> +<p>"Change it again," advised Sandy as he laid the whip gently +across the horse's back.</p> +<p>Carter Nelson flung furiously off to catch the train for town, +while the would-be bride shed bitter tears on the shoulder of the +would-be suicide.</p> +<p>The snow fell faster and faster, and the gray day deepened to +dusk. For a long time they drove along in silence, both busy with +their own thoughts.</p> +<p>Suddenly they were lurched violently forward as the horse shied +at something in the bushes. Sandy leaned forward in time to see a +figure on all fours plunging back into the shrubbery.</p> +<p>"Annette," he whispered excitedly, "did you see that man's +face?"</p> +<p>"Yes," she said, clinging to his arm; "don't leave me, +Sandy!"</p> +<!-- Page 244 --> +<p>"What did he look like? Tell me, quick!"</p> +<p>"He had little eyes like shoe-buttons, and his teeth stuck out. +Do you suppose he was hiding?"</p> +<p>"It was Ricks Wilson, or I am a blind man!" cried Sandy, +standing up in the buggy and straining his eyes in the +darkness.</p> +<p>"Why, he's in jail!"</p> +<p>"May I never trust me two eyes to speak the truth again if that +wasn't Ricks!"</p> +<p>When they started they found that the harness was broken, and +all efforts to fix it were in vain.</p> +<p>"It's half-past five now," cried Annette. "If I don't get home +b-before dad, he'll have out the fire department."</p> +<p>"There's a farm-house a good way back," said Sandy; "but it's +too far for you to walk. Will you be waiting here in the buggy +until I go for help?"</p> +<p>"Well, I guess not!" said Annette, indignantly.</p> +<p>Sandy looked at the round baby face beside <!-- Page 245 --> +him and laughed. "It's not one of meself that blames you," he said; +"but how are we ever to get home?"</p> +<p>Annette was not without resources.</p> +<p>"What's the matter with riding the horse b-back to the +farm?"</p> +<p>"And you?" asked Sandy.</p> +<p>"I'll ride behind."</p> +<p>They became hilarious over the mounting, for the horse bitterly +resented a double burden.</p> +<p>When he found he could not dispose of it he made a dash for +freedom, and raced over the frozen road at such a pace that they +were soon at their destination.</p> +<p>"He won the handicap," laughed Sandy as he lifted his disheveled +companion to the ground.</p> +<p>"It was glorious!" cried Annette, gathering up her flying locks. +"I lost every hair-pin but one."</p> +<p>At the farm-house they met with a warm reception.</p> +<p>"Jes step right in the kitchen," said the <!-- Page 246 --> +farmer. "Mommer'll take care of you while I go out to the stable +for some rope and another hoss."</p> +<p>The kitchen was a big, cheerful room, full of homely comfort. +Bright red window-curtains were drawn against the cold white world +outside, and the fire crackled merrily in the stove.</p> +<p>Sandy and Annette stood, holding out their hands to the friendly +warmth. She was watching with interest the preparations for supper, +but he had grown silent and preoccupied.</p> +<p>The various diversions of the afternoon had acted as a temporary +narcotic, through which he struggled again and again to wretched +consciousness. A surge of contempt swept over him that he could +have forgotten for a moment. He did not want to forget; he did not +want to think of anything else.</p> +<p>"They smell awfully g-good," whispered Annette.</p> +<p>"What?"</p> +<!-- Page 247 --> +<p>"The hoe-cakes. I didn't have any dinner."</p> +<p>"Neither did I."</p> +<p>Annette looked up quickly. "What were you d-doing out there on +the track, Sandy?"</p> +<p>The farmer's wife fortunately came to the rescue.</p> +<p>"Hitch up yer cheers, you two, and take a little snack afore you +go out in the cold ag'in."</p> +<p>Annette promptly accepted, but Sandy declared that he was not +hungry. He went to the window and, pulling back the curtain, stared +out into the night. Was all the rest of life going to be like this? +Was that restless, nervous, intolerable pain going to gnaw at his +heart forever?</p> +<p>Meanwhile the savory odor of the hoe-cakes floated over his +shoulder and bits of the conversation broke in upon him.</p> +<p>"Aw, take two or three and butter 'em while they are hot. Long +sweetening or short?"</p> +<p>"Both," said Annette. "I never tasted <!-- Page 248 --> +anything so g-good. Sandy, what's the matter with you? I never saw +you when you weren't hungry b-before. Look! Won't you try this +s-sizzly one?"</p> +<p>Sandy looked and was lost. He ate with a coming appetite.</p> +<p>The farmer's wife served them with delighted zeal; she made trip +after trip from the stove to the table, pausing frequently to +admire her guests.</p> +<p>"I've had six," said Annette; "do you suppose I'll have time for +another one?"</p> +<p>"Lemme give you <i>both</i> a clean plate and some pie," +suggested the eager housewife.</p> +<p>Sandy looked at her and smiled.</p> +<p>"I'll take the clean plate," he said, "and—and more +hoe-cakes."</p> +<p>When the farmer returned, and they rode back to the buggy, +Annette developed a sudden fever of impatience. She fidgeted about +while the men patched up the harness, and delayed their progress by +her fire of questions.</p> +<p>After they started, Sandy leaned back in <!-- Page 249 --> +the buggy, lost in the fog of his unhappiness. Off in the distance +he could see the twinkling lights of Clayton. One was apart from +the rest; that was Willowvale.</p> +<p>A sob aroused him. Annette, left to herself, had collapsed. He +patiently put forth a fatherly hand and patted her shoulder.</p> +<p>"There, there, Nettie! You'll be all right in the morning."</p> +<p>"I won't!" she declared petulantly. "You don't know anything +ab-b-bout being in love."</p> +<p>Sandy surveyed her with tolerant sadness. Little her childish +heart knew of the depths through which he was passing.</p> +<p>"Do you love him very much?" he asked.</p> +<p>She nodded violently. "Better than any b-boy I was ever engaged +to."</p> +<p>"He's not worth it."</p> +<p>"He is!"</p> +<p>A strained silence, then he said:</p> +<p>"Nettie, could you be forgiving me if I told you the Lord's +truth?"</p> +<p>"Don't you suppose dad's kept me <!-- Page 250 --> +p-posted about his faults? Why, he would walk a mile to find out +something b-bad about Carter Nelson."</p> +<p>"He wouldn't have to. Nelson's a bad lot, Nettie. It isn't all +his fault; it's the price he pays for his blue blood. Your father's +the wise man to try to keep you from being his wife."</p> +<p>"Everyb-body's down on him," she sobbed, "just because he has to +d-drink sometimes on account of his lungs. I didn't know you were +so mean."</p> +<p>"Will you pass the word not to see him again before he leaves in +the morning?"</p> +<p>"Indeed, I won't!"</p> +<p>Sandy stopped the horse. "Then I'll wait till you do."</p> +<p>She tried to take the lines, but he held her hands. Then she +declared she would walk. He helped her out of the buggy and watched +her start angrily forth. In a few minutes she came rushing +back.</p> +<p>"Sandy, you know I can't g-go by myself; I am afraid. Take me +home."</p> +<!-- Page 251 --> +<p>"And you promise?"</p> +<p>She looked appealingly at him, but found no mercy. "You are the +very m-meanest boy I ever knew. Get me home before d-dad finds out, +and I'll promise anything. But this is the last word I'll ever +s-speak to you as long as I live."</p> +<p>At half-past seven they drove into town. The streets were full +of people and great excitement prevailed.</p> +<p>"They've found out about me!" wailed Annette, breaking her long +silence. "Oh, Sandy, what m-must I do?"</p> +<p>Sandy looked anxiously about him. He knew that an elopement +would not cause the present commotion. "Jimmy!" He leaned out of +the buggy and called to a boy who was running past. "Jimmy Reed! +What's the matter?"</p> +<p>Jimmy, breathless and hatless, his whole figure one huge +question-mark, exploded like a bunch of fire-crackers.</p> +<p>"That you, Sandy? Ricks Wilson's broke jail and shot Judge +Hollis. It was at <!-- Page 252 --> +half-past five. Dr. Fenton's been out there ever since. They say +the judge can't live till midnight. We're getting up a crowd to go +after Wilson."</p> +<p>At the first words Sandy had sprung to his feet. "The judge +shot! Ricks Wilson! I'll kill him for that. Get out, Annette. I +must go to the judge. I'll be out to the farm in no time and back +in less. Don't you be letting them start without me, Jimmy."</p> +<p>Whipping the already jaded horse to a run, he dashed through the +crowded streets, over the bridge, and out the turnpike.</p> +<p>Ruth stood at one of the windows at Willowvale, peering +anxiously out into the darkness. Her figure showed distinctly +against the light of the room behind her, but Sandy did not see +her.</p> +<p>His soul was in a wild riot of grief and revenge. Two thoughts +tore at his brain: one was to see the judge before he died, and the +other was to capture Ricks Wilson.</p> +<p> </p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<!-- Page 253 --> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXI" id="CHAPTER_XXI"></a> <b>CHAPTER +XXI</b></h2> +<p>IN THE DARK</p> +<p>An ominous stillness hung over Hollis farm as Sandy ran up the +avenue. The night was dark, but the fallen snow gave a +half-mysterious light to the quiet scene.</p> +<p>He stepped on the porch with a sinking heart. In the dimly +lighted hall Mr. Moseley and Mr. Meech kept silent watch, their +faces grave with apprehension. Without stopping to speak to them, +Sandy hurried to the door of the judge's room. Before he could turn +the knob, Dr. Fenton opened it softly and, putting his finger on +his lips, came out, cautiously closing the door behind him.</p> +<p>"You can't go in," he whispered; "the <!-- Page 254 --> +slightest excitement might finish him. He's got one chance in a +hundred, boy; we've got to nurse it."</p> +<p>"Does he know?"</p> +<p>"Never has known a thing since the bullet hit him. He was coming +into the sitting-room when Wilson fired through the window."</p> +<p>"The black-hearted murderer!" cried Sandy. "I could swear I saw +him hiding in the bushes between here and the Junction."</p> +<p>The doctor threw a side glance at Mr. Meech, then said +significantly:</p> +<p>"Have they started?"</p> +<p>"Not yet. If there's nothing I can do for the judge, I'm going +with them."</p> +<p>"That's right. I'd go, too, if I were not needed here. Wait a +minute, Sandy." His face looked old and worn. "Have you happened to +see my Nettie since noon?"</p> +<p>"That I have, doctor. She was driving with me, and the harness +broke. She's home now."</p> +<!-- Page 255 --> +<p>"Thank God!" cried the doctor. "I thought it was Nelson."</p> +<p>Sandy passed through the dining-room and was starting up the +steps when he heard his name spoken.</p> +<p>"Mist' Sandy! 'Fore de Lawd, where you been at? Oh, we been +habin' de terriblest times! My pore old mas'r done been shot down +wifout bein' notified or nuthin'. Pray de Lawd he won't die! I +knowed somepin' was gwine happen. I had a division jes 'fore +daybreak; dey ain't no luck worser den to dream 'bout a tooth +fallin' out. Oh, Lordy! Lordy! I hope he ain't gwine die!"</p> +<p>"Hush, Aunt Melvy! Where's Mrs. Hollis?"</p> +<p>"She's out in de kitchen, heatin' water an' waitin' on de +doctor. She won't let me do nuthin'. Seems lak workin' sorter lets +off her feelin's. Pore Miss Sue!" She threw her apron over her head +and swayed and sobbed.</p> +<p>As Sandy tried to pass, she stopped him again, and after looking +furtively around <!-- Page 256 --> +she fumbled in her pocket for something which she thrust into his +hand.</p> +<p>"Hit's de pistol!" she whispered. "I's skeered to give it to +nobody else, 'ca'se I's skeered dey'd try me for a witness. He done +drap it 'longside de kitchen door. You won't let on I found it, +honey? You won't tell nobody?"</p> +<p>He reassured her, and hastened to his room. Lighting his lamp, +he hurriedly changed his coat for a heavier, and was starting in +hot haste for the door when his eyes fell upon the pistol, which he +had laid on the table.</p> +<p>It was a fine, pearl-handled revolver, thirty-eight caliber. He +looked at it closer, then stared blankly at the floor. He had seen +it before that afternoon.</p> +<p>"Why, Carter must have given Ricks the pistol," he thought. "But +Carter was out at the Junction. What time did it happen?"</p> +<p>He sat on the side of the bed and, pressing his hands to his +temples, tried to force the events to take their proper +sequence.</p> +<!-- Page 257 --> +<p>"I don't know when I left town," he thought, with a shudder; "it +must have been nearly four when I met Carter and Annette. He took +the train back. Yes, he would have had time to help Ricks. But I +saw Ricks out the turnpike. It was half-past five, I remember now. +The doctor said the judge was shot at a quarter of six."</p> +<p>A startled look of comprehension flashed over his face. He +sprang to his feet and tramped up and down the small room.</p> +<p>"I know I saw Ricks," he thought, his brain seething with +excitement. "Annette saw him, too; she described him. He couldn't +have even driven back in that time."</p> +<p>He stopped again and stood staring intently before him. Then he +took the lamp and slipped down the back stairs and out the side +door.</p> +<p>The snow was trampled about the window and for some space beyond +it. The tracks had been followed to the river, the eager searchers +keeping well away from the tell-tale footsteps in order not to +obliterate <!-- Page 258 --> +them. Sandy knelt in the snow and held his lamp close to the single +trail. The print was narrow and long and ended in a tapering toe. +Ricks's broad foot would have covered half the space again. He +jumped to his feet and started for the house, then turned back +irresolute.</p> +<p>When he entered his little room again the slender footprints had +been effaced. He put the lamp on the bureau, and looked vacantly +about him. On the cushion was pinned a note. He recognized Ruth's +writing, and opened it mechanically.</p> +<p>There were only three lines:</p> +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>I must see you again before I leave. Be sure to come +to-night.</p> +</div> +<p>The words scarcely carried a meaning to him. It was her brother +that had shot the judge—the brother whom she had defended and +protected all her life. It would kill her when she knew. And he, +Sandy Kilday, was the only one who suspected the truth. A momentary +temptation seized him to <!-- Page 259 --> +hold his peace; if Ricks were caught, it would be time enough to +tell what he knew; if he escaped, one more stain on his name might +not matter.</p> +<p>But Carter, the coward, where was he? It was his place to speak. +Would he let Ricks bear his guilt and suffer the blame? Such +burning rage against him rose in Sandy that he paced the room in +fury.</p> +<p>Then he re-read Ruth's note and again he hesitated. What a +heaven of promise it opened to him! Ruth was probably waiting for +him now. Everything might be different when he saw her again.</p> +<p>All his life he had followed the current; the easy way was his +way, and he came back to it again and again. His thoughts shifted +and formed and shifted again like the bits of color in a +kaleidoscope.</p> +<p>Presently his restless eyes fell on an old chromo hanging over +the mantel. It represented the death-bed of Washington. The dying +figure on the bed recalled that other figure down-stairs. In an +instant all the <!-- Page 260 --> +floating forms in his brain assumed one shape and held it.</p> +<p>The judge must be his first consideration. He had been shot down +without cause, and might pay his life for it. There was but one +thing to do: to find the real culprit, give him up, and take the +consequences.</p> +<p>Slipping the note in one pocket and the revolver in another, he +hurried down-stairs.</p> +<p>On the lowest step he found Mrs. Hollis sitting in the dark. Her +hands were locked around her knees, and hard, dry sobs shook her +body.</p> +<p>In an instant he was down beside her, his arms about her. "He +isn't dead?" he whispered fearfully.</p> +<p>Mrs. Hollis shook her head. "He hasn't moved an inch or spoken +since we put him on the bed. Are you going with the men?"</p> +<p>"I'm going to town now," said Sandy, evasively.</p> +<p>She rose and caught him by the arm. Her eyes were fierce with +vindictiveness.</p> +<p>"Don't let them stop till they've caught <!-- Page 261 --> +him, Sandy. I hope they will hang him to-night!"</p> +<p>A movement in the sick-room called her within, and Sandy hurried +out to the buggy, which was still standing at the gate.</p> +<p>He lighted the lantern and, throwing the robe across his knees, +started for town. The intense emotional strain under which he had +labored since noon, together with fatigue, was beginning to play +tricks with his nerves. Twice he pulled in his horse, thinking he +heard voices in the wood. The third time he stopped and got out. At +infrequent intervals a groan broke the stillness.</p> +<p>He climbed the snake-fence and beat about among the bushes. The +groan came again, and he followed the sound.</p> +<p>At the foot of a tall beech-tree a body was lying face downward. +He held his lantern above his head and bent over it. It was a man, +and, as he tried to turn him over, he saw a slight red stain on the +snow beneath his mouth. The figure, thus roused, stirred and tried +to sit up. As he did so, the light <!-- Page 262 --> +from Sandy's lantern fell full on the dazed and swollen face of +Carter Nelson. The two faced each other for a space, then Sandy +asked him sharply what he did there.</p> +<p>"I don't know," said Carter, weakly, sinking back against the +tree. "I'm sick. Get me some whisky."</p> +<p>"Wake up!" said Sandy, shaking him roughly. "This is +Kilday—Sandy Kilday."</p> +<p>Carter's eyes were still closed, but his lip curled +contemptuously. "<i>Mr.</i> Kilday," he said, and smiled +scornfully. "The least said about <i>Mr.</i> Kilday the +better."</p> +<p>Sandy laid a heavy hand on his shoulder.</p> +<p>"Nelson, listen! Do you remember going out to the Junction with +Annette Fenton?"</p> +<p>"That's nobody's business but mine. I'll shoot the—"</p> +<p>"Do you remember coming home on the train?"</p> +<p>Carter's stupid, heavy eyes were on Sandy now, and he was +evidently trying to understand what he was saying. "Home on the +train? Yes; I came home on train."</p> +<!-- Page 263 --> +<p>"And afterward?" demanded Sandy, kneeling before him and looking +intently in his eyes.</p> +<p>"Gus Heyser's saloon, and then—"</p> +<p>"And then?" repeated Sandy.</p> +<p>Carter shook his head and looked about him bewildered.</p> +<p>"Where am I now I What did you bring me here for?"</p> +<p>"Look me straight, Nelson," said Sandy. "Don't you move your +eyes. You left Gus Heyser's and came out the pike to the Hollis +farm, didn't you?"</p> +<p>"Hollis farm?" Carter repeated vaguely. "No; I didn't go +there."</p> +<p>"You went up to the window and waited. Don't you remember the +snow on the ground and the light inside the window?"</p> +<p>Carter seemed struggling to remember, but his usually sensitive +face was vacant and perplexed.</p> +<p>Sandy moved nearer. "You waited there by the window," he went on +with subdued excitement, for the hope was high in his +<!-- Page 264 --> +heart that Carter was innocent. "You waited ever so long, until a +pistol was fired—"</p> +<p>"Yes," broke in Carter, his lips apart; "a pistol-shot close to +my head! It woke me up. I ran before they could shoot me again. +Where was it—Gus Heyser's? What am I doing here?"</p> +<p>For answer Sandy pulled Carter's revolver from his pocket. "Did +you have that this afternoon?"</p> +<p>"Yes," said Carter, a troubled look coming into his eyes. "Where +did you get it, Kilday?"</p> +<p>"It was found outside Judge Hollis's window after he had been +shot."</p> +<p>"Judge Hollis shot! Who did it?"</p> +<p>Sandy again looked at the pistol.</p> +<p>"My God, man!" cried Carter; "you don't mean that I—" He +cowered back against the tree and shook from head to foot. +"Kilday!" he cried presently, seizing Sandy by the wrist with his +long, delicate hands, "does any one else know?"</p> +<p><!-- Page 265 --> +Sandy shook his head.</p> +<p>"Then I must get away; you must help me. I didn't know what I +was doing. I don't know now what I have done. Is he—"</p> +<p>"He's not dead yet."</p> +<p>Carter struggled to his feet, but a terrible attack of coughing +seized him, and he sank back exhausted. The handkerchief which he +held to his mouth was red with blood.</p> +<p>Sandy stretched him out on the snow, where he lay for a while +with closed eyes. He was very white, and his lips twitched +convulsively.</p> +<p>A vehicle passed out the road, and Sandy started up. He must +take some decisive step at once. The men were probably waiting in +the square for him now. He must stop them at any cost.</p> +<p>Carter opened his eyes, and the terror returned to them.</p> +<p>"Don't give me up, Kilday!" he cried, trying to rise. "I'll pay +you anything you ask. It was the drink. I didn't know what I was +doing. For the Lord's sake, don't <!-- Page 266 --> +give me up! I haven't long to live at best. I can't disgrace the +family. I—I am the last of the line—last Nelson—" +His voice was high and uncontrolled, and his eyes were glassy and +fixed.</p> +<p>Sandy stood before him in an agony of indecision. He had fought +it out with himself there in his bedroom, and all personal +considerations were swept from his mind. All he wanted now was to +do right. But what was right? He groped blindly about in the +darkness of his soul, and no guiding light showed him the way.</p> +<p>With a groan, he knotted his fingers together and prayed the +first real prayer his heart had ever uttered. It was wordless and +formless, just an inarticulate cry for help in the hour of +need.</p> +<p>The answer came when he looked again at Carter. Something in the +frenzied face brought a sudden recollection to his mind.</p> +<p>"We can't judge him by usual standards; he's bearing the sins of +his fathers. We have to look on men like that as we do on +<!-- Page 267 --> +the insane." They were the judge's own words.</p> +<p>Sandy jumped to his feet, and, helping and half supporting +Carter, persuaded him to go out to the buggy, promising that he +would not give him up.</p> +<p>At the Willowvale gate he led the horse into the avenue, then +turned and ran at full speed into town. As he came into the square +he found only a few groups shivering about the court-house steps, +discussing the events of the day.</p> +<p>"Where's the crowd?" he cried breathless. "Aren't they going to +start from here?"</p> +<p>An old negro pulled off his cap and grinned.</p> +<p>"Dey been gone purty near an hour, Mist' Sandy. I 'spec' dey's +got dat low-down rascal hanged by now."</p> +<p> </p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<!-- Page 268 --> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXII" id="CHAPTER_XXII"></a>CHAPTER XXII</h2> +<p>AT WILLOWVALE</p> +<p>There was an early tea at Willowvale that evening, and Ruth sat +at the big round table alone. Mrs. Nelson always went to bed when +the time came for packing, and Carter was late, as usual.</p> +<p>Ruth was glad to be alone. She had passed through too much to be +able to banish all trace of the storm. But though her eyes were red +from recent tears, they were bright with anticipation. Sandy was +coming back. That fact seemed to make everything right.</p> +<p>She leaned her chin on her palm and tried to still the beating +of her heart. She knew he would come. Irresponsible, hot-headed, +<!-- Page 269 --> +impulsive as he was, he had never failed her. She glanced +impatiently at the clock.</p> +<p>"Miss Rufe, was you ever in love?" It was black Rachel who broke +in upon her thoughts. She was standing at the foot of the table, +her round, good-humored face comically serious.</p> +<p>"No-yes. Why, Rachel?" stammered Ruth.</p> +<p>"I was just axin'," said Rachel, "'cause if you been in love, +you'd know how to read a love-letter, wouldn't you, Miss Rufe?"</p> +<p>Ruth smiled and nodded.</p> +<p>"I got one from my beau," went on Rachel, in great +embarrassment; "but dat nigger knows I can't read."</p> +<p>"Where does he live?" asked Ruth.</p> +<p>"Up in Injianapolis. He drives de hearse."</p> +<p>Ruth suppressed a smile. "I'll read the love-letter for you," +she said.</p> +<p>Rachel sat down on the floor and began taking down her hair. It +was divided into many tight braids, each of which was +<!-- Page 270 --> +wrapped with a bit of shoe-string. From under the last one she took +a small envelope and handed it to Ruth.</p> +<p>"Dat's it," she said. "I was so skeered I'd lose it I didn't +trust it no place 'cept in my head."</p> +<p>Ruth unfolded the note and read:</p> +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>"DEAR RACHEL: I mean biznis if you mean biznis send me fore +dollars to git a devorce.</p> +<p>"<i>George</i>."</p> +</div> +<p>Rachel sat on the floor, with her hair standing out wildly and +anxiety deepening on her face.</p> +<p>"I ain't got but three dollars," she said.</p> +<p>"I was gwine to buy my weddin' dress wif dat."</p> +<p>"But, Rachel," protested Ruth, in laughing remonstrance, "he has +one wife."</p> +<p>"Yes,'m. Pete Lawson ain't got no wife; but he ain't got but one +arm, neither. Whicht one would you take, Miss Rufe?"</p> +<p>"Pete," declared Ruth. "He's a good boy, what there is of +him."</p> +<!-- Page 271--> +<p>"Well, I guess I better notify him to-night," sighed Rachel; but +she held the love-letter on her knee and regretfully smoothed its +crumpled edges.</p> +<p>Ruth pushed back her chair from the table and crossed the wide +hall to the library.</p> +<p>It was a large room, with heavy wainscoting, above which +simpered or frowned a long row of her ancestors.</p> +<p>She stepped before the one nearest her and looked at it long and +earnestly. The face carried no memory with it, though it was her +father. It was the portrait of a handsome man in uniform, in the +full bloom of a dissipated youth. Her mother had seldom spoken of +him, and when she did her eyes filled with tears.</p> +<p>A few feet farther away hung a portrait of her grandfather, +brave in a high stock and ruffled shirt, the whole light of a +bibulous past radiating from the crimson tip of his incriminating +nose.</p> +<p>Next him hung Aunt Elizabeth, supercilious, arrogant, haughty. +Ruth recalled a <!-- Page 272 --> +tragic day of her past when she was sent to bed for climbing upon +the piano and pasting a stamp on the red-painted lips.</p> +<p>She glanced down the long line: velvets, satins, jewels, and +uniforms, and, above them all, the same narrow face, high-arched +nose, brilliant dark eyes, and small, weak mouth.</p> +<p>On the table was a photograph of Carter. Ruth sighed as she +passed it. It was a composite of all the grace, beauty, and +weakness of the surrounding portraits.</p> +<p>She went to the fire and, sitting down on an ottoman, took two +pictures from the folds of her dress. One was a miniature in a +small old-fashioned locket. It was a grave, sweet, motherly face, +singularly pure and childlike in its innocence. Ruth touched it +with reverent fingers.</p> +<p>"They say I am like her," she whispered to herself.</p> +<p>Then she turned to the other picture in her lap. It was a cheap +photograph with an ornate border. Posed stiffly in a photographer's +<!-- Page 273 --> +chair, against a background which represented a frightful storm at +sea, sat Sandy Kilday. His feet were sadly out of focus, and his +head was held at an impossible angle by the iron rest which stood +like a half-concealed skeleton behind him. He wore cheap +store-clothes, and a turn-down collar which rested upon a +ready-made tie of enormous proportions. It was a picture he had had +taken in his first new clothes soon after coming to Clayton. Ruth +had found it in an old book of Annette's.</p> +<p>How crude and ludicrous the awkward boy looked beside the +elegant figures on the walls about her! She leaned nearer the fire +to get the light on the face, then she smiled with a sudden rush of +tenderness.</p> +<p>The photographer had done his worst for the figure, but even an +unskilled hand and a poor camera had not wholly obliterated the +fineness of the face. Spirit, honor, and strength were all there. +The eyes that met hers were as fine and fearless as her own, and +the honest smile that hovered on his lips <!-- Page 274 --> +seemed to be in frank amusement at his own sorry self.</p> +<p>Ruth turned to see that the door was closed, then she put the +picture to her cheek, which was crimson in the firelight, and with +hesitating shyness gradually drew it to her lips and held it +there.</p> +<p>A noise of wheels in the avenue brought her to her feet with a +little start of joy. He had come, and she was possessed of a sudden +desire to run away. But she waited, with glad little tremors +thrilling her and her heart beating high. She was sure she heard +wheels. She went to the window, and, shading her eyes, looked out. +A buggy was standing at the gate, but no one got out.</p> +<p>A sudden apprehension seized her, and she hurried into the hail +and opened the front door.</p> +<p>"Carter," she called softly out into the night—"Carter, is +it you?"</p> +<p>There was no answer, and she came back into the hall and closed +the door. On each side of the door was a panel of leaded glass, +<!-- Page 275 --> +and she pressed her face to one of the little square panes, and +peered anxiously out. The light from the newel-post behind her +emphasized the darkness, so that she could distinguish only the dim +outline of the buggy.</p> +<p>Twice she touched the knob before she turned it again; then she +resolutely gathered her long white dress in her hand, and passed +down the broad stone steps. The wind blew sharply against her, and +the pavement was cold to her slippered feet.</p> +<p>"Carter," she called again and again—"Carter, is it +you?"</p> +<p>At the gate her scant supply of courage failed. Some one was in +the buggy, half lying, half sitting, with his face turned from her. +She looked back to the light in the cabin, where the servants would +hear if she called. Then the thought of any one else seeing Carter +as she had seen him before drove the fear back, and she resolutely +opened the gate and went forward.</p> +<p>At her first touch Carter started up <!-- Page 276 --> +wildly and pushed her from him. "You said you wouldn't give me up; +you promised," he said.</p> +<p>"I know it, Carter. I'll help you, dear. Don't be so afraid! +Nobody shall see you. Put your arm on my shoulder—there! Step +down a little farther!"</p> +<p>With all her slight strength she supported and helped him, the +keen wind blowing her long, thin dress about them both, and the +lace falling back from her arms, leaving them bare to the +elbow.</p> +<p>Half-way up the walk he broke away from her and cried out: "I'll +have to go away. It's dangerous for me to stay here an hour."</p> +<p>"Yes, Carter dear, I know. The doctor says it's the climate. We +are going early in the morning. Everything's packed. See how cold I +am getting out here! You'll come in with me now, won't you?"</p> +<p>Coaxing and helping him, she at last succeeded in getting him to +bed. The blood on his handkerchief told its own story.</p> +<p><!-- Page 277 --> +She straightened the room, drew a screen between him and the fire, +and then went to the bed, where he had already fallen into a deep +sleep. Sinking on her knees beside him, she broke into heavy, +silent sobs. The one grief of her girlhood had been the waywardness +of her only brother. From childhood she had stood between him and +blame, shielding him, helping him, loving him. She had fought +valiantly against his weakness, but her meager strength had been +pitted against the accumulated intemperance of generations.</p> +<p>She chafed his thin wrists, which her fingers could span; she +tenderly smoothed his face as it lay gray against the pillows; then +she caught up his hand and held it to her breast with a quick, +motherly gesture.</p> +<p>"Take him soon, God!" she prayed. "He is too weak to try any +more."</p> +<p>At midnight she slipped away to her own room and took off the +dainty gown she had put on for Sandy's coming.</p> +<p>For long hours she lay in her great canopied <!-- Page 278 --> +bed with wide-open eyes. The night was a noisy one, for there was a +continual passing on the road, and occasional shouts came faintly +to her.</p> +<p>With heavy heart she lay listening for some sound from Carter's +room. She was glad he was home. It was worse to sit up in bed and +listen for the wheels to turn in at the gate, to start at every +sound on the road, and to wait and wait through the long night. She +could scarcely remember the time when she had not waited for Carter +at night.</p> +<p>Once, long ago, she had confided her secret to one of her +uncles, and he had laughed and told her that boys would be boys. +After that she had kept things to herself.</p> +<p>There was but one other person in the world to whom she had +spoken, and that was Sandy Kilday. As she looked back it seemed to +her there was nothing she had withheld from Sandy Kilday. Nothing? +Sandy's face, as she had last seen it, despairing, reckless, +hopeless, rose before her. <!-- Page 279 --> +But she had asked him to come back, she was ready to surrender, she +could make him understand if she could only see him.</p> +<p>Why had he not come? The question multiplied itself into +numerous forms and hedged her in. Was he too angry to forgive her? +Had her seeming indifference at last killed his love? Why had he +not sent her a note or a message? He knew that she was to leave on +the early train, that there would be no chance to speak with her +alone in the morning.</p> +<p>A faint streak of misty light shone through the window. She +watched it deepen to rose.</p> +<p>By and by Rachel came in to make the fire. She tiptoed to the +bed and peeped through the curtains.</p> +<p>"You 'wake, Miss Rufe? Dey's been terrible goings on in town +last night! Didn't you hear de posse goin' by?"</p> +<p>"What was it? What's the matter?" cried Ruth, sitting up in +bed.</p> +<p>"Dat jail-bird Wilson done shot Jedge <!-- Page 280 --> +Hollis. 'Mos' ebery man in town went out to ketch him. Dey been +gone all night."</p> +<p>"Sandy went with them," thought Ruth, in sudden relief; then she +thought of the judge.</p> +<p>"Oh, Rachel, is he dangerously hurt? Will he die?"</p> +<p>"De las' accounts was mighty bad. Dey say de big doctors is +a-comin' up from de city to prode fer de bullet."</p> +<p>"What made him shoot him? How could he be so cruel, when the +dear old judge is so good and kind to everybody?"</p> +<p>"Jes pore white trash, dat Wilson," said Rachel, contemptuously, +as she coaxed the kindling into a blaze.</p> +<p>Ruth got up and dressed. Beneath the deep concern which she felt +was the flutter of returning hope. Sandy's first duty was to his +benefactor. She knew how he loved the old judge and with what +prompt action he would avenge his wrong. She could trust him to +follow honor every time.</p> +<p>"Some ob 'em 's comin' back now!" <!-- Page 281 --> +cried Rachel from the window. "I's gwine down to de road an' ax 'em +if dey ketched him."</p> +<p>"Rachel, wait! I'm coming, too. Give me my +traveling-coat—there on the trunk. What can I put on my head? +My hat is in auntie's room."</p> +<p>Rachel, rummaging in the closet, brought forth an old white +tam-o'-shanter. "That will do!" cried Ruth. "Now, don't make any +noise, but come."</p> +<p>They tiptoed through the house and out into the early morning. +It was still half dark, and the big-eyed poplars watched them +suspiciously as they hurried down to the road. Every branch and +twig was covered with ice, and the snow crackled under their +feet.</p> +<p>"I 'spec' it's gwine be summer-time where you gwine at, Miss +Rufe," said Rachel.</p> +<p>"I don't care," cried Ruth. "I don't want to be anywhere in the +world except right here."</p> +<!-- Page 282 --> +<p>"Dey're comin'," announced Rachel. "I hear de hosses."</p> +<p>Ruth leaned across the top bar of the gate, her figure enveloped +in her long coat, and her white tam a bright spot in the +half-light.</p> +<p>On came the riders, three abreast.</p> +<p>"Dat's him in de middle," whispered Rachel, excitedly; "next to +de sheriff. I's s'prised dey didn't swing him up—I shorely +is. He's hangin' down his head lak he's mighty 'shamed."</p> +<p>Ruth bent forward to get a glimpse of the prisoner's face, and +as she did so he lifted his head.</p> +<p>It was Sandy Kilday, his clothes disheveled, his brows lowered, +and his lips compressed info a straight, determined line.</p> +<p>Ruth's startled gaze swept over the riders, then came back to +him. She did not know what was the matter; she only knew that he +was in trouble, and that she was siding with him against the rest. +In the one moment their eyes met she sent him her full assurance of +compassion and sympathy. It was <!-- Page 283 --> +the same message a little girl had sent years ago over a ship's +railing to a wretched stowaway on the deck below.</p> +<p>The men rode on, and she stood holding to the gate and looking +after them.</p> +<p>"Here comes Mr. Sid Gray," said Rachel. The approaching rider +drew rein when he saw Ruth and dismounted.</p> +<p>"Tell me what's happened!" she cried.</p> +<p>He hitched his horse and opened the gate. He, too, showed signs +of a hard night.</p> +<p>"May I come in a moment to the fire?" he asked.</p> +<p>She led the way to the dining-room and ordered coffee.</p> +<p>"Now tell me," she demanded breathlessly.</p> +<p>"It's a mixed-up business," said Gray, holding his numb hands to +the blaze. "We left here early in the night and worked on a wrong +trail till midnight. Then a train-man out at the Junction gave us a +clue, and we got a couple of bloodhounds and traced Wilson as far +as Ellersberg."</p> +<!-- Page 284 --> +<p>"Go on!" said Ruth, shuddering.</p> +<p>"You see, a rumor got out that the judge had died. We didn't say +anything before the sheriff, but it was understood that Ricks +wouldn't be brought back to town alive. We located him in an old +barn. We surrounded it, and were just about to fire it when Kilday +came tearing up on horseback."</p> +<p>"Yes?" cried Ruth.</p> +<p>"Well," he went on, "he hadn't started with us, and he had been +riding like mad all night to overtake the crowd. His horse dropped +under him before he could dismount. Kilday jumped out in the crowd +and began to talk like a crazy man. He said we mustn't harm Ricks +Wilson; that Ricks hadn't shot the judge, for he was sure he had +seen him out the Junction road about half-past five. We all saw it +was a put-up job; he was Ricks Wilson's old pal, you know."</p> +<p>"But Sandy Kilday wouldn't lie!" cried Ruth.</p> +<!-- Page 285 --> +<p>"Well, that's what he did, and worse. When we tried to close in +on Wilson, Kilday fought like a tiger. You never saw anything like +the mix-up, and in the general skirmish Wilson escaped."</p> +<p>"And—and Sandy?" Ruth was leaning forward, with her hands +clasped and her lips apart.</p> +<p>"Well, he showed what he was, all right. He took sides with that +good-for-nothing scoundrel who had shot a man that was almost his +father. Why, I never saw such a case of ingratitude in my +life!"</p> +<p>"Where are they taking him?" she almost whispered.</p> +<p>"To jail for resisting an officer."</p> +<p>"Miss Rufe, de man's come fer de trunks. Is dey ready?" asked +Rachel from the hall.</p> +<p>Ruth rose and put her hand on the back of the chair to steady +herself.</p> +<p>"Yes; yes, they are ready," she said with an effort. "And, +Rachel, tell the man to go as quietly as possible. Mr. Carter must +not be disturbed until it is time to start."</p> +<p> </p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<!-- Page 286 --> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIII" id="CHAPTER_XXIII"></a>CHAPTER +XXIII</h2> +<p>"THE SHADOW ON THE HEART"</p> +<p>Just off Main street, under the left wing of the court-house, +lay the little county jail. It frowned down from behind its fierce +mask of bars and spikes, and boldly tried to make the town forget +the number of prisoners that had escaped its walls.</p> +<p>In a small front cell, beside a narrow grated window, Ricks +Wilson had sat and successfully planned his way to freedom.</p> +<p>The prisoner who now occupied the cell spent no time on thoughts +of escape. He paced restlessly up and down the narrow chamber, or +lay on the cot, with his hands under his head, and stared at the +grimy ceiling. The one question which he continually +<!-- Page 287 --> +put to the jailer was concerning the latest news of Judge +Hollis.</p> +<p>Sandy had been given an examining trial on the charge of +resisting an officer and assisting a prisoner to escape. Refusing +to tell what he knew, and no bail being offered, he was held to +answer to the grand jury. For two weeks he had seen the light of +day only through the deep, narrow opening of one small window.</p> +<p>At first he had had visitors—indignant, excited visitors +who came in hotly to remonstrate, to threaten, to abuse. Dr. Fenton +had charged in upon him with a whole battery of reproaches. In +stentorian tones he rehearsed the judge's kindness in befriending +him, he pointed out his generosity, and laid stress on Sandy's +heinous ingratitude. Mr. Moseley had arrived with arguments and +reasons and platitudes, all expressed in a polysyllabic monotone. +Mr. Meech had come many times with prayers and petitions and gentle +rebuke.</p> +<p>To them all Sandy gave patient, silent <!-- Page 288 --> +audience, wincing under the blame, but making no effort to defend +himself. All he would say was that Ricks Wilson had not done the +shooting, and that he could say no more.</p> +<p>A wave of indignation swept the town. Almost the only friend who +was not turned foe was Aunt Melvy. Her large philosophy of life +held that all human beings were "chillun," and "chillun was bound +to act bad sometimes." She left others to struggle with Sandy's +moral welfare and devoted herself to his physical comfort.</p> +<p>With a clear conscience she carried to her home flour, sugar, +and lard from the Hollises' store-room, and sat up nights in her +little cabin at "Who'd 'a' Thought It" to bake dumplings, rolls, +and pies for her "po' white chile."</p> +<p>Sandy felt some misgivings about the delicacies which she +brought, and one day asked her where she made them.</p> +<p>"I makes 'em out home," she declared stoutly. "I wouldn't cook +nuffin' fer you <!-- Page 289 --> +on Miss Sue's stove while she's talkin' 'bout you lak she is. She +'lows she don't never want to set eyes on you ag'in as long as she +lives."</p> +<p>"Has the judge asked for me?" said Sandy.</p> +<p>"Yas, sir; but de doctor he up and lied. He tol' him you'd went +back to de umerversity. De doctor 'lowed ef he tole him de trufe it +might throw him into a political stroke."</p> +<p>Sandy leaned his head on his hand. "You're the only one that's +stood by me, Aunt Melvy; the rest of them think me a bad lot."</p> +<p>"Dat's right," assented Aunt Melvy, cheerfully. "You jes orter +hear de way dey slanders you! I don't 'spec' you got a friend in +town 'ceptin' me." Then, as if reminded of something, she produced +a card covered with black dots. "Honey, I's gittin' up a little +collection fer de church. You gib me a nickel and I punch a pin +th'u' one ob dem dots to sorter certify it."</p> +<!-- Page 290 --> +<p>"Have you got religion yet?" he asked as he handed her some +small change.</p> +<p>Her expression changed, and her eyes fell. "Not yit," she +acknowledged reluctantly; "but I's countin' on comin' th'u' before +long. I's done j'ined de Juba Choir and de White Doves."</p> +<p>"The White Doves?" repeated Sandy.</p> +<p>"Yas, sir; de White Doves ob Perfection. We wears purple +calicoes and sets up wid de sick."</p> +<p>"Have you seen Miss Annette?"</p> +<p>"Lor', honey! ain't I tol' you 'bout dat? De very night de jedge +was shot, dat chile wrote her paw de sassiest letter, sayin' she +gwine run off and git married wif dat sick boy, Carter Nelson. De +doctor headed 'em off some ways, and de very nex' day what you +think he done? He put dat gal in a Cafolic nunnery convent! Dey say +she cut up scan'lous at fust, den she sorter quiet down, an' 'gin +to count her necklace, an' make signs on de waist ob her dress, an' +say she lak it so much she gwine be a Cafolic <!-- Page 291 --> +nunnery sister herself. Now de doctor's jes tearin' his shirt to +git her out, he's so skeered she'll do what she says."</p> +<p>Sandy laughed in spite of himself, and Aunt Melvy wagged her +head knowingly.</p> +<p>"He needn't pester hisseif 'bout dat. Now Mr. Carter's 'bout to +die, an' you's shut up in jail, she's done turnin' her 'tention on +Mr. Sid Gray. Dey ain't no blinds in de world big enough to keep +dat gal from shinin' her eyes at de boys!"</p> +<p>"Is Carter about to die?" Sandy had become suddenly grave.</p> +<p>"Yas, sir; so dey say. He's got somepin' that sounds lak +tuberoses. Him and Mrs. Nelson and Miss Rufe never did git to +Californy. Dey stopped off in Mobile or Injiany, I can't ricollec' +which. He took de fever de day dey lef', an' he ain't knowed +nothin' since."</p> +<p>After Aunt Melvy left, Sandy went to the window and leaned +against the bars. Below him flowed the life of the little town, the +men going home from work, the girls chattering <!-- Page 292 --> +and laughing through the dusk on their way from the post-office. +Every figure that passed, black or white, was familiar to him. +Jimmy Reed's little Skye terrier dashed down the street, and a +whistle sprang to his lips.</p> +<p>How he loved every living creature in the place! For five years +he had been one of them, sharing their interests, part and parcel +of the life of the community. Now he was an outcast, an alien, as +much a stranger to friendly faces as the lad who had knelt long ago +at the window of a great tenement and had been afraid to be +alone.</p> +<p>"I'll have to go away," he thought wistfully. "They'll not be +wanting me here after this."</p> +<p>It grew darker and darker in the gloomy room. The mournful voice +of a negro singing in the next cell came to him faintly:</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"><span>"We'll hunt no moah fo' de possum and de +coon,<br /></span> <span class="i2">On de medder, de hill, an' de +shoah.<br /></span> <span>We'll sing no moah by de glimmer ob de +moon,<br /></span> <span class="i2">On de bench by de old cabin +doah.<br /></span></div> +<div class="stanza"><!-- Page 293 --> +<span>"De days go by like de shadow on do heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wid sorrer, wha' all wuz so bright;<br /></span> +<span>De time am come when do darkies hab to +part—<br /></span> <span class="i2">Den, my ole Kaintucky +home, good night."<br /></span></div> +</div> +<p>Sandy's arm was against the grating and his head was bowed upon +it. Through all the hours of trial one image had sustained him. It +was of Ruth, as he had seen her last, leaning toward him out of the +half-light, her brown hair blowing from under her white cap and her +great eyes full of wondering compassion.</p> +<p>But to-night the darkness obscured even that image. The judge's +life still hung in the balance, and the man who had shot him lay in +a distant city, unconscious, waiting for death. Sandy felt that by +his sacrifice he had put the final barrier between himself and +Ruth.</p> +<p>With a childish gesture of despair, he flung out his arms and +burst into a passion of tears. The intense emotional impulse of his +race swept him along like a <!-- Page 294 --> +feather in a gale. His grief, like his joy, was elemental.</p> +<p>When the lull came at last, he pressed his hot head against the +cold iron grating, and his thoughts returned again and again to +Ruth. He thought of her tender ministries in the sick room, of her +intense love and loyalty for her brother. His whole soul rose up to +bless her, and the thought of what she had been spared brought him +peace.</p> +<p>Through days of struggle and nights of pain he fought back all +thoughts of the future and of self.</p> +<p>These times were ever afterward a twilight-place in his soul, +hallowed and sanctified by the great revelation they brought him, +blending the blackness of despair with the white light of perfect +love. Here his thoughts would often turn even in the stress and +strain of the daily life, as a devotee stops on his busy round and +steps within the dim cathedral to gain strength and inspiration on +his way.</p> +<p><!-- Page 295 --> +The next time Aunt Melvy came he asked for some of his law-books, +and from that on there was no more idling or dreaming.</p> +<p>Among the volumes she brought was the old note-book in which the +judge had made him jot down suggestions during those long evening +readings in the past. It was full of homely advice, the result of +forty years' experience, and Sandy found comfort in following it to +the letter.</p> +<p>For the first time in his life he learned the power of +concentration. Seven hours' study a day, without diversion or +interruption, brought splendid results. He knew the outline of the +course at the university, and he forged ahead with feverish +energy.</p> +<p>Meanwhile the judge's condition was slowly improving.</p> +<p>One afternoon Sandy sat at his table, deep in his work. He heard +the key turn in its lock and the door open, but he did not look up. +Suddenly he was aware of the soft rustle of skirts, and, lifting +his eyes, he saw <!-- Page 296 --> +Ruth. For a moment he did not move, thinking she must be but the +substance of his dream. Then her black dress caught his attention, +and he started to his feet.</p> +<p>"Carter?" he cried—"is he—"</p> +<p>Ruth nodded; her face was white and drawn, and purple shadows +lay about her eyes.</p> +<p>"He's dead," she whispered, with a catch in her voice; then she +went on in breathless explanation: "but he told me first. He said, +'Hurry back, Ruth, and make it right. They can come for me as soon +as I can travel. Tell Kilday I wasn't worth it.' Oh, Sandy! I don't +know whether it was right or wrong,—what you did,—but +it was merciful: if you could have seen him that last week, crying +all the time like a little child, afraid of the shadows on the +wall, afraid to be alone, afraid to live, afraid to die—"</p> +<p>Her voice broke, and she covered her face with her hands.</p> +<p>Sandy started forward, then he paused <!-- Page 299 --> +and gripped the chair-back until his fingers were white.</p> +<p>"Ruth," he said impatiently, "you'd best be going quick. It'll +break the heart of me to see you standing there suffering, unless I +can take you in me arms and comfort you. I've sworn never to speak +the word; but, by the saints—"</p> +<p>"You may!" sobbed Ruth, and with a quick, timid little gesture +she laid her hands in his.</p> +<p>For a moment he held her away from him. "It's not pity," he +cried, searching her face, "nor gratitude!"</p> +<p>She lifted her eyes, as honest and clear as her soul.</p> +<p>"It's been love, Sandy," she whispered, "ever since the +first."</p> +<!-- Page 297 (Illustration) --> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 457px;"><a name="i297" id= +"i297"></a> <img src="images/297.gif" width="457" height="700" alt= +"Illustration: 'It's been love, Sandy, ... ever since the first'" /> +</div> +<!-- Page 298 (Blank facing page) --> +<p>Two hours later, when the permit came, Sandy walked out of the +jail into the court-house square. A crowd had collected, for Ruth +had told her story and the news had spread; public favor was +rapidly turning in his direction.</p> +<p><!-- Page 300 --> +He looked about vaguely, as a man who has gazed too long at the sun +and is blinded to everything else.</p> +<p>"I've got my buggy," cried Jimmy Reed, touching him on the arm. +"Where do you want to go?"</p> +<p>Sandy hesitated, and a dozen invitations were shouted in one +breath. He stood irresolute, with his foot on the step of the +buggy; then he pulled himself up.</p> +<p>"To Judge Hollis," he said.</p> +<p> </p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<!-- Page 301 --> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIV" id="CHAPTER_XXIV"></a>CHAPTER XXIV</h2> +<p>THE PRIMROSE WAY</p> +<p>Spring and winter, and spring again, and flying rumors fluttered +tantalizing wings over Clayton. Just when it was definitely +announced that Willowvale was to be sold, Ruth Nelson returned, +after a year's absence, and opened the old home.</p> +<p>Mrs. Nelson did not come with her. That excellent lady had +concluded to bestow her talents upon a worthier object. In her +place came Miss Merritt, a quiet little sister of Ruth's mother, +who proved to be to the curious public a pump without a handle.</p> +<p>About this time Sandy Kilday returned from his last term at the +university, and gossip was busy over the burden of honors +<!-- Page 302 --> +under which he staggered, and the brilliance of the position he had +accepted in the city. In prompt contradiction of this came the +shining new sign, "Hollis & Kilday," which appeared over the +judge's dingy little office.</p> +<p>Nobody but Ruth knew what that sign had cost Sandy. He had come +home, fresh from his triumphs, and burning with ambition to make +his way in the world,—to make a name for her to share, and a +record for her to be proud of. The opportunity that had been +offered him was one in a lifetime. It had taken all his courage and +strength and loyalty to refuse it, but Ruth had helped him.</p> +<p>"We must think of the judge first, Sandy," she said. "While he +lives we must stay here; there'll be time enough for the big world +after a while."</p> +<p>So Sandy gave up his dream for the present and tacked the new +sign over the office door with his own hand.</p> +<p>The old judge watched him from the pavement. "That's right," he +said, rubbing his hands together with childish satisfaction; " +<!-- Page 303 --> +that's just about the best-looking sign I ever saw!"</p> +<p>"If you ever turn me down in court I'll stand it on its head and +make my own name come first," threatened Sandy; and the judge +repeated the joke to every one he saw that day.</p> +<p>It was not long until the flying rumors settled down into +positive facts, and Clayton was thrilled to its willow-fringed +circumference. There was to be a wedding! Not a Nelson wedding of +the olden times, when a special car brought grand folk down from +the city, and the townspeople stayed apart and eyed their fine +clothes and gay behavior with ill-concealed disfavor. This was to +be a Clayton wedding for high and low, rich and poor.</p> +<p>There was probably not a shutter opened in the town, on the +morning of the great day, that some one did not smile with pleasure +to find that the sun was shining.</p> +<p>Mrs. Hollis woke Sandy with the dawn, and insisted upon helping +him pack his <!-- Page 304 --> +trunk before breakfast. For a week she had been absorbed in his +nuptial outfit, jealously guarding his new clothes, to keep him +from wearing them all before the wedding.</p> +<p>Aunt Melvy was half an hour late in arriving, for she had +tarried at "Who'd 'a' Thought It" to perform the last mystic rites +over a rabbit's foot which was to be her gift to the groom.</p> +<p>The whole town was early astir and wore a holiday air. By noon +business was virtually abandoned, for Clayton was getting ready to +go to the wedding.</p> +<p>Willowvale extended a welcome to the world. The wide front gates +stood open, the big-eyed poplars beamed above the oleanders and the +myrtle, while the thrushes and the redwings twittered and caroled +their greetings from on high. The big white house was open to the +sunshine and the spring; flowers filled every nook and corner; even +the rose-bush which grew outside the dining-room window sent a few +venturesome <!-- Page 305 --> +roses over the sill to lend their fragrance to those within.</p> +<p>And such a flutter of expectancy and romance and joy as pervaded +the place! All the youth of Clayton was there, loitering about the +grounds in gay little groups, or lingering in couples under the +shadow of the big porches.</p> +<p>In the library Judge and Mrs. Hollis did the honors, and +presented the guests to little Miss Merritt, whose cordial, homely +greetings counteracted the haughty disapproval of the portraits +overhead.</p> +<p>Mr. Moseley rambled through the rooms, indulging in a flowing +monologue which was as independent of an audience as a summer +brook.</p> +<p>Mr. Meech sought a secluded spot under the stairway and +nervously practised the wedding service, while Mrs. Meech, tucked +up for once in her life, smiled bravely on the company, and thought +of a little green mound in the cemetery, which Sandy had helped her +keep bright with flowers.</p> +<p><!-- Page 306 --> +They were all there, Dr. Fenton slapping everybody on the back and +roaring at his own jokes; Sid Gray carrying Annette's flowers with +a look of plump complacency; Jimmy Reed constituting himself a +bureau of information, giving and soliciting news concerning +wedding presents, destination of wedding journey, and future +plans.</p> +<p>Up-stairs, at a hall window, the groom was living through +rapturous throes of anticipation. For the hundredth time he made +sure the ring was in the left pocket of his waistcoat.</p> +<p>From down-stairs came the hum of voices mingled with the music. +The warm breath of coming summer stole through the window.</p> +<p>Sandy looked joyously out across the fields of waving blue-grass +to the shining river. Down by the well was an old windmill, and at +its top a weather-vane. When he spied it he smiled. Once again he +was a ragged youngster, back on the Liverpool dock; the fog was +closing in, and the coarse voices of the sailors rang in his ears. +In <!-- Page 307 --> +quick flashes the scenes of his boyhood came before him,—the +days on shipboard, on the road with Ricks, at the Exposition, at +Hollis Farm, at the university,—and through them all that +golden thread of romance that had led him safe and true to the very +heart of the enchanted land where he was to dwell forever.</p> +<p>"'Fore de Lawd, Mist' Sandy, ef you ain't fergit yer +necktie!"</p> +<p>It was Aunt Melvy who burst in upon his reverie with these +ominous words. She had been expected to assist with the wedding +breakfast, but the events above-stairs had proved too alluring.</p> +<p>Sandy's hand flew to his neck. "It's at the farm," he cried in +great excitement, "wrapped in tissue-paper in the top drawer. Send +Jim, or Joe, or Nick—any of the darkies you can find!"</p> +<p>"Send nuthin'," muttered Aunt Melvy, shuffling down the stairs. +"I's gwine myself, ef I has to take de bridal kerridge."</p> +<p>Messengers were sent in hot haste, one <!-- Page 308 --> +to the farm and one to town, while Jimmy Reed was detailed to +canvass the guests and see if a white four-in-hand might be +procured.</p> +<p>"The nearest thing is Mr. Meech's," he reported on his fourth +trip up-stairs; "it's a white linen string-tie, but he doesn't want +to take it off."</p> +<p>"Faith, and he'll have to!" said Sandy, in great agitation. +"Don't he know that nobody will be looking at him?"</p> +<p>Annette appeared at a bedroom door, a whirl of roses and +pink.</p> +<p>"What's the m-matter? Ruth will have a f-fit if you wait much +longer, and my hair is coming out of curl."</p> +<p>"Take it off him," whispered Sandy, recklessly, to Jimmy Reed; +and violence was prevented only by the timely arrival of Aunt Melvy +with the original wedding tie.</p> +<p>The bridal march had sounded many times, and the impatient +guests were becoming seriously concerned, when a handkerchief +fluttered from the landing and <!-- Page 309 --> +Sandy and Ruth came down the wide white steps together.</p> +<p>Mr. Meech cleared his throat and, with one hand nervously +fidgeting under his coattail, the other thrust into the bosom of +his coat, began:</p> +<p>"We are assembled here to-day to witness the greatest and most +time-hallowed institution known to man."</p> +<p>Sandy heard no more. The music, the guests, the flowers, even +his necktie, faded from his mind.</p> +<p>A sacred hush filled his soul, through which throbbed the vows +he was making before God and man. The little hand upon his arm +trembled, and his own closed upon it in instant sympathy and +protection.</p> +<p>"In each of the ages gone," Mr. Meech was saying with increasing +eloquence, "man has wooed and won the sweet girl of his choice, and +then, with the wreath of fairest orange-blossoms encircling her +pure brow, while yet the blush of innocent love crimsoned her +cheek, led her away in trembling <!-- Page 310 --> +joy to the hymeneal altar, that their names, their interests, their +hearts, might all be made one, just as two rays of light, two drops +of dew, sometimes meet, to kiss—to part no more forever."</p> +<p>Suddenly a loud shout sounded from the upper hall, followed by +sounds like the repeated fall of a heavy body. Mr. Meech paused, +and all eyes were turned in consternation toward the door. Then +through the stillness rang out a hallelujah from above.</p> +<p>"Praise de Lawd, de light's done come! De darkness, lak de +thunder, done roll away. I's saved at last, and my name is done +written in de Promised Land! Amen! Praise de Lawd! Amen!"</p> +<p>To part of the company at least the situation was clear. Aunt +Melvy, after seeking religion for nearly sixty years, had chosen +this inopportune time to "come th'u'."</p> +<p>She was with some difficulty removed to the wash-house, where +she continued her thanksgiving in undisturbed exultation.</p> +<p><!-- Page 311 --> +Amid suppressed merriment, the marriage service was concluded, Mr. +Meech heroically foregoing his meteoric finale.</p> +<p>Clayton still holds dear the memory of that wedding: of the +beautiful bride and the happy groom, of the great feast that was +served indoors and out, and of the good fellowship and good cheer +that made it a gala day for the country around.</p> +<p>When it was over, Sandy and Ruth drove away in the old town +surrey, followed by such a shower of rice and flowers and blessings +as had never been known before. They started, discreetly enough, +for the railroad-station, but when they reached the river road +Sandy drew rein. Overhead the trees met in a long green arch, and +along the wayside white petals strewed the road. Below lay the +river, dancing, murmuring, beckoning.</p> +<p>"Let's not be going to the city to-day!" cried Sandy, +impulsively. "Let's be following the apple-blossoms wherever they +lead."</p> +<!-- Page 312 --> +<p>"It's all the same wherever we are," said Ruth, in joyful +freedom.</p> +<p>They turned into the road, and before them, through the trees, +lay the long stretch of smiling valley.</p> + +<p> </p> +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 14079 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/14079-h/images/026.gif b/14079-h/images/026.gif Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..1580636 --- /dev/null +++ b/14079-h/images/026.gif diff --git a/14079-h/images/077.gif b/14079-h/images/077.gif Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..b623bb2 --- /dev/null +++ b/14079-h/images/077.gif diff --git a/14079-h/images/173.gif b/14079-h/images/173.gif Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..0660263 --- /dev/null +++ b/14079-h/images/173.gif diff --git a/14079-h/images/195.gif b/14079-h/images/195.gif Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..e01a826 --- /dev/null +++ b/14079-h/images/195.gif diff --git a/14079-h/images/241.gif b/14079-h/images/241.gif Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c25f40b --- /dev/null +++ b/14079-h/images/241.gif diff --git a/14079-h/images/297.gif b/14079-h/images/297.gif Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c2d09e7 --- /dev/null +++ b/14079-h/images/297.gif diff --git a/14079-h/images/cover.gif b/14079-h/images/cover.gif Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..1f9c0d7 --- /dev/null +++ b/14079-h/images/cover.gif diff --git a/14079-h/images/frontispc.gif b/14079-h/images/frontispc.gif Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c36b0d1 --- /dev/null +++ b/14079-h/images/frontispc.gif diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a0781c4 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #14079 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/14079) diff --git a/old/14079-8.txt b/old/14079-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..4bceb1d --- /dev/null +++ b/old/14079-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,6453 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, Sandy, by Alice Hegan Rice + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: Sandy + +Author: Alice Hegan Rice + +Release Date: November 18, 2004 [eBook #14079] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SANDY*** + + +E-text prepared by Rick Niles, Ronald Holder, and the Project Gutenberg +Online Distributed Proofreading Team + + + +Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this + file which includes the original illustrations. + See 14079-h.htm or 14079-h.zip: + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/4/0/7/14079/14079-h/14079-h.htm) + or + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/4/0/7/14079/14079-h.zip) + + Images of the original pages are available through Kentuckiana + Digital Library. See http://kdl.kyvl.org + + + + + +SANDY + +by + +ALICE HEGAN RICE + +Author of _Mrs. Wiggs of the Cabbage Patch_ + +New York, The Century Co. + +1905 + + + + + + + +[Illustration: "Looking up, he saw a slender little girl in a long +tan coat and a whit tam-o'-shanter"] + + + +TO MY AUNT + +MISS MARY A. HEGAN +WHO USED TO TELL ME BETTER STORIES +THAN I SHALL EVER WRITE + + + + +CONTENTS + + CHAPTER + + I THE STOWAWAY + II ON SHIPBOARD + III THE CURSE OF WEALTH + IV SIDE-TRACKED + V SANDY RETIRES FROM BUSINESS + VI HOLLIS FARM + VII CONVALESCENCE + VIII AUNT MELVY AS A SOOTHSAYER + IX TRANSITION + X WATERLOO + XI "THE LIGHT THAT LIES" + XII ANTICIPATION + XIII THE COUNTY FAIR + XIV A COUNCIL OF WAR + XV HELL AND HEAVEN + XVI THE NELSON HOME + XVII UNDER THE WILLOWS + XVIII THE VICTIM + XIX THE TRIALS OF AN ASSISTANT POSTMASTER + XX THE IRONY OF CHANCE + XXI IN THE DARK + XXII AT WILLOWVALE + XXIII "THE SHADOW ON THE HEART" + XXIV THE PRIMROSE WAY + + + + +LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS + + +"Looking up, he saw a slender little girl in a long tan coat and a +white tam-o-shanter" Frontispiece + +"He sent up yell after yell of victory for the land of his adoption" + +"He smiled away his debt of gratitude" + +"Then he forgot all about the steps and counting time" + +"Burning deeds of prowess rioted in his brain" + +"Sandy saw her waver" + +"'It's been love, Sandy, ... ever since the first'" + + + + +CHAPTER I + +THE STOWAWAY + + +An English mist was rolling lazily inland from the sea. It half +enveloped the two great ocean liners that lay tugging at their +moorings in the bay, and settled over the wharf with a grim +determination to check, as far as possible, the traffic of the +morning. + +But the activity of the wharf, while impeded, was in no wise stopped. +The bustle, rattle, and shouting were, in fact, augmented by the +temporary interference. Everybody seemed in a hurry, and everybody +seemed out of temper, save a boy who lay at full length on the quay +and earnestly studied a weather-vane that was lazily trying to make +up its mind which way to point. + +He was ragged and brawny and picturesque. His hands, bronzed by the +tan of sixteen summers, were clasped under his head, and his legs were +crossed, one soleless shoe on high vaunting its nakedness in the face +of an indifferent world. A sailor's blouse, two sizes too large, was +held together at the neck by a bit of red cambric, and his trousers +were anchored to their mooring by a heavy piece of yellow twine. The +indolence of his position, however, was not indicative of the state of +his mind; for under his weather-beaten old cap, perched sidewise on a +tousled head, was a commotion of dreams and schemes, ambitions and +plans, whose activities would have put to shame the busiest wharf in +the world. + +"It's your show, Sandy Kilday!" he said, half aloud, with a bit of a +brogue that flavored his speech as the salt flavors the sea air. "You +don't want to be a bloomin' old weather-vane, a-changin' your mind +every time the wind blows. Is it go, or stay?" + +The answer, instead of coming, got sidetracked by the train of thought +that descended upon him when he was actually face to face with his +decision. All sorts of memories came rushing pell-mell through his +brain. The cold and hungry ones were the most insistent, but he +brushed them aside. + +The one he clung to longest was the earliest and most shadowy of the +lot. It was of a little white house on an Irish heath, and inside was +the biggest fireplace in the world, where crimson flames went roaring +up the big, dark chimney, and where witches and fairies held high +carnival. There was a big chair on each side the hearth, and between +them a tiny red rocker with flowers painted on the arms of it. That +was the clearest of all. There were persons in the large chairs, one a +silent Scotchman who, instinct told him, must have been his father, +and the other--oh, tricky memory that faltered when he wanted it to be +so clear!--was the maddest, merriest little mother that ever came +back to haunt a lad. By holding tight to the memory he could see that +her eyes were blue like his own, but her hair was black. He could hear +the ring of her laugh as she told him Irish stories, and the soft +drone of her voice as she sang him old Irish songs. It was she who +told him about the fairies and witches that lived up behind the +peat-flames. He remembered holding her hand and putting his cheek +against it when the goblins came too near. Then the picture would go +out, like a picture in a magic-lantern show, and sometimes Sandy could +make it come back, and sometimes he could not. + +After that came a succession of memories, but none of them held the +silent father and the merry mother and the little white house on the +heath. They were of new faces and new places, of temporary homes with +relatives in Ireland and Scotland, of various schools and unceasing +work. Then came the day, two years ago, when, goaded by some +injustice, real or imagined, he had run away to England and struck out +alone and empty-handed to care for himself. It had been a rough +experience, and there were days that he was glad to forget; but +through it all the taste of freedom had been sweet in his mouth. + +For three weeks he had been hanging about the docks, picking up jobs +here and there, accommodating any one who wanted to be accommodated, +making many friends and little money. He had had no thought of +embarking until the big English liner _Great Britain_ arrived in port +after breaking all records on her homeward passage. She was to start +on her second trip to-day, and an hour later her rival, the steamship +_America_, was to take her departure. The relative merits of the two +vessels had been the talk of the wharf for days. + +Sandy had made it a rule in life to be on hand when anything was +happening. He had viewed cricket-matches from tree-tops, had answered +the call of fire at midnight, and tramped ten miles to see the finish +of a great regatta. But something was about to take place which seemed +entirely beyond his attainment. Two hours passed before he solved the +problem. + +"Takin' the rest-cure, kid?" asked a passing sailor as he shied a +stick at Sandy's shins. + +Sandy stretched himself and smiled up at the sailor. It was a smile +that waited for an answer and usually got it--a smile so brimming over +with good-fellowship and confidence that it made a lover of a friend +and a friend of an enemy. + +"It's a trip that I'm thinkin' of takin'," he cried blithely as he +jumped to his feet. "Here's the shillin' I owe you, partner, and may +the best luck ye've had be the worst luck that's comin'." + +He tossed a coin to the sailor, and thrusting his hands in his +pockets, executed a brief but brilliant _pas seul_, and then went +whistling away down the wharf. He swung along right cheerily, his rags +fluttering, his chin in the air, for the wind had settled in one +direction, and the weather-vane and Sandy had both made up their +minds. + +The sailor looked after him fondly. "He's a bloomin' good little +chap," he said to a man near by. "Carries a civil tongue in his head +for everybody." + +The man grunted. "He's too off and on," he said. "He'll never come to +naught." + +Two days later, the _America_, cutting her way across the Atlantic, +carried one more passenger than she registered. In the big life-boat +swung above the hurricane-deck lay Sandy Kilday, snugly concealed by +the heavy canvas covering. + +He had managed to come aboard under cover of the friendly fog, and had +boldly appropriated a life-boat and was doing light housekeeping. The +apartment, to be sure, was rather small and dark, for the only light +came through a tiny aperture where the canvas was tucked back. At this +end Sandy attended to his domestic duties. + +Here were stored the fresh water and hardtack which the law requires +every life-boat to carry in case of an emergency. Added to these was +Sandy's private larder, consisting of several loaves of bread, a bag +of apples, and some canned meat. The other end of the boat was +utilized as a bedroom, a couple of life-preservers serving as the bed, +and his own bundle of personal belongings doing duty as a pillow. + +There were some drawbacks, naturally, especially to an energetic, +restless youngster who had never been in one place so long before in +his life. It was exceedingly inconvenient to have to lie down or +crawl; but Sandy had been used to inconveniences all his life, and +this was simply a difference in kind, not in degree. Besides, he could +steal out at night and, by being very careful and still, manage to +avoid the night watch. + +The first night out a man and a girl had come up from the cabin deck +and sat directly under his hiding-place. At first he was too much +afraid of discovery to listen to what they were saying, but later his +interest outweighed his fear. For they were evidently lovers, and +Sandy was at that inflammable age when to hear mention of love is +dangerous and to see a manifestation of it absolute contagion. When +the great question came, his heart waited for the answer. Perhaps it +was the added weight of his unspoken influence that turned the scale. +She said yes. During the silence that followed, Sandy, unable to +restrain his joy, threw his arms about a life-preserver and embraced +it fervently. + +When they were gone he crawled out to stretch his weary body. On the +deck he found a book which they had left; it was a green book, and on +the cover was a golden castle on a golden hill. All the rest of his +life he loved a green book best, for it was through this one that he +found his way back again to that enchanted land that lay behind the +peat-flames in the shadowy memory. Early in the morning he read it, +with his head on the box of hardtack and his feet on the water-can. +Twice he reluctantly tore himself from its pages and put it back where +he had found it. No one came to claim it, and it lay there, with the +golden castle shining in the sun. Sandy decided to take one more peep. + +It was all about gallant knights and noble lords, of damsels passing +fair, of tourneys and feasts and battles fierce and long. Story after +story he devoured, until he came to the best one of all. It told of a +beautiful damsel with a mantle richly furred, who was girt with a +cumbrous sword which did her great sorrow; for she might not be +delivered of it save by a knight who was of passing good name both of +his lands and deeds. And after that all the great knights had striven +in vain to draw the sword from its sheath, a poor knight, poorly +arrayed, felt in his heart that he might essay it, but was abashed. At +last, however, when the damsel was departing, he plucked up courage to +ask if he might try; and when she hesitated he said: "Fair damsel, +worthiness and good deeds are not only in arrayment, but manhood and +worship are hid within man's person." Then the poor knight took the +sword by the girdle and sheath and drew it out easily. + +And it was not until then that Sandy knew that he had had no dinner, +and that the sun had climbed over to the other side of the steamer, +and that a continual cheering was coming up from the deck below. +Cautiously he pulled back the canvas flap and emerged like the head of +a turtle from his shell. The bright sunshine dazzled him for a moment, +then he saw a sight that sent the dreams flying. There, just ahead, +was the _Great Britain_ under full way, valiantly striving to hold her +record against the oncoming steamer. + +Sandy sat up and breathlessly watched the champion of the sea, her +smoke-stacks black against the wide stretch of shining waters. The +Union Jack was flying in insolent security from her flagstaff. There +were many figures on deck, and her music was growing louder every +minute. Inch by inch the _America_ gained upon her, until they were +bow and bow. The crowd below grew wilder, cheers went up from both +steamers, the decks were white with the flutter of handkerchiefs. +Suddenly the band below struck up "The Star-Spangled Banner." Sandy +gave one triumphant glance at the Stars and Stripes floating overhead, +and in that moment became naturalized. He leaped to his feet in the +boat, and tearing the blouse from his back, waved the tattered banner +in the face of the vanquished _Great Britain_, as he sent up yell +after yell of victory for the land of his adoption. + +[Illustration: "He sent up yell after yell of victory for the land of +his adoption"] + +Then he was seized by the ankle and jerked roughly down upon the deck. +Over him stood the deck steward. + +"You`re a rum egg for that old boat to hatch out," he said. "I guess +the cap'n will be wantin' to see you." + +Sandy, thus peremptorily summoned from the height of patriotic +frenzy, collapsed in terror. Had the deck steward not been familiar +with stowaways, he doubtless would have been moved by the flood of +eloquent persuasion which Sandy brought to bear. + +As it was, he led him ruthlessly down the narrow steps, past the long +line of curious passengers, then down again to the steerage deck, +where he deposited him on a coil of rope and bade him stay there until +he was sent for. + +Here Sandy sat for the remainder of the afternoon, stared at from +above and below, an object of lively curiosity. He bit his nails until +the blood came, and struggled manfully to keep back the tears. He was +cold, hungry, and disgraced, and his mind was full of sinister +thoughts. Inch by inch he moved closer to the railing. + +Suddenly something fell at his feet. It was an orange. Looking up, he +saw a slender little girl in a long tan coat and a white +tam-o'-shanter leaning over the railing. He only knew that her eyes +were brown and that she was sorry for him, but it changed his world. +He pulled off his cap, and sent her such an ardent smile of gratitude +that she melted from the railing like a snowflake under the kiss of +the sun. + +Sandy ate the orange and took courage. Life had acquired a new +interest. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +ON SHIPBOARD + + +The days that followed were not rose-strewn. Disgrace sat heavily upon +the delinquent, and he did penance by foregoing the joys of society. +Menial labor and the knowledge that he would not be allowed to land, +but would be sent back by the first steamer, were made all the more +unbearable by his first experience with illness. He had accepted his +fate and prepared to die when the ship's surgeon found him. + +The ship's surgeon was cruel enough to laugh, but he persuaded Sandy +to come back to life. He was a small, white, round little man; and +when he came rolling down the deck in his white linen suit, his face +beaming from its white frame of close-cropped hair and beard, he was +not unlike one of his own round white little pills, except that their +sweetness stopped on the outside and his went clear through. + +He discovered Sandy lying on his face in the passageway, his right +hand still dutifully wielding the scrub-brush, but his spirit broken +and his courage low. + +"Hello!" he exclaimed briskly; "what's your name?" + +"Sandy Kilday." + +"Scotch, eh?" + +"Me name is. The rest of me's Irish," groaned Sandy. + +"Well, Sandy, my boy, that's no way to scrub. Come out and get some +air, and then go back and do it right." + +He guided Sandy's dying footsteps to the deck and propped him against +the railing. That was when he laughed. + +"Not much of a sailor, eh?" he quizzed. "You'll be all right soon; we +have been getting the tail-end of a big nor'wester." + +"A happy storm it must have been, sir, to wag its tail so gay," said +Sandy, trying to smile. + +The doctor clapped him on the back. "You're better. Want something to +eat?" + +Sandy declined with violence. He explained his feelings with all the +authority of a first experience, adding in conclusion: "It was Jonah I +used to be after feelin' sorry for; it ain't now. It's the whale." + +The doctor prevailed upon him to drink some hot tea and eat a +sandwich. It was a heroic effort, but Sandy would have done even more +to prolong the friendly conversation. + +"How many more days have we got, sir?" + +"Five; but there's the return trip for you." + +Sandy's face flushed. "If they send me home, I'll be comin' back!" he +cried, clinging to the railing as the ship lurched forward. "I'm goin' +to be an American. I am goin'--" Further declarations as to his +future policy were cut short. + +From that time on the doctor took an interest in him. He even took up +a collection of clothes for him among the officers. His professional +services were no longer necessary, for Sandy enjoyed a speedy recovery +from his maritime troubles. + +"You are luckier than the rest," he said, one day, stopping on his +rounds. "I never had so many steerage patients before." + +The work was so heavy, in fact, that he obtained permission to get a +boy to assist him. The happy duty devolved upon Sandy, who promptly +embraced not only the opportunity, but the doctor and the profession +as well. He entered into his new work with such energy and enthusiasm +that by the end of the week he knew every man below the cabin deck. So +expeditious did he become that he found many idle moments in which to +cultivate acquaintances. + +His chosen companion at these times was a boy in the steerage, +selected not for congeniality, but for his unlimited knowledge of all +things terrestrial, from the easiest way of making a fortune to the +best way of spending it. He was a short, heavy-set fellow of some +eighteen years. His hair grew straight up from an overhanging +forehead, under which two small eyes seemed always to be furtively +watching each other over the bridge of his flat snub nose. His lips +met with difficulty across large, irregular teeth. Such was Ricks +Wilson, the most unprepossessing soul on board the good ship +_America_. + +"You see, it's this way," explained Ricks as the boys sat behind the +smokestack and Sandy became initiated into the mysteries of a +wonderful game called "craps." "I didn't have no more 'n you've got. I +lived down South, clean off the track of ever'thing. I puts my foot in +my hand and went out and seen the world. I tramps up to New York, +works my way over to England, tramps and peddles, and gits enough +dough to pay my way back. Say, it's bum slow over there. Why, they +ain't even on to street-cars in London! I makes more in a week at home +than I do in a month in England. Say, where you goin' at when we +land?" + +Sandy shook his head ruefully. "I got to go back," he said. + +Ricks glanced around cautiously, then moved closer. + +"You ain't that big a sucker, are you? Any feller that couldn't hop +the twig offen this old boat ain't much, that's all I got to say." + +"Oh, it's not the gettin' away," said Sandy, more certain than ever, +now that he was sure of an ally. + +"Homesick?" asked Ricks, with a sneer. + +Sandy gave a short laugh. "Home? Why, I ain't got any home. I've just +lived around since I was a young one. It's a chance to get on that I'm +after." + +"Well, what in thunder is takin' you back?" + +"I don't know," said Sandy, "'cep'n' it ain't in me to give 'em the +slip now I know 'em. Then there's the doctor--" + +"That old feather-bed? O Lord! He's so good he gives me a pain. Goes +round with his mouth hiked up in a smile, and I bet he's as mean as +the--" + +Before Hicks could finish he found himself inextricably tangled in +Sandy's arms and legs, while that irate youth sat upon him and +pommeled him soundly. + +"So it's the good doctor ye'd be after blasphemin' and abusin' and +makin' game of! By the powers, ye'll take it back! Speak one time +more, and I'll make you swaller the lyin' words, if I have to break +every bone in your skin!" + +There was an ugly look in Ricks's face as he threw the smaller boy +off, but further trouble was prevented by the appearance of the second +mate. + +Sandy hurried away to his duties, but not without an anxious glance at +the upper deck. He had never lost an opportunity, since that first +day, of looking up; but this was the first time that he was glad she +was not there. Only once had he caught sight of a white tam and a tan +coat, and that was when they were being conducted hastily below by a +sympathetic stewardess. + +But Sandy needed no further food for his dreams than he already had. +On sunny afternoons, when he had the time, he would seek a secluded +corner of the deck, and stretching himself on the boards with the +green book in his hand, would float in a sea of sentiment. The fact +that he had decided to study medicine and become a ship's surgeon in +no wise interfered with his fixed purpose of riding forth into the +world on a cream-white charger in search of a damsel in distress. + +So thrilled did he become with the vision that he fell to making +rhymes, and was surprised to find that the same pair of eyes always +rhymed with skies--and they were brown. + +Sometimes, at night, a group would gather on the steerage deck and +sing. A black-haired Italian, with shirt open at the throat, would +strike a pose and fling out a wild serenade; or a fat, placid German +would remove his pipe long enough to troll forth a mighty +drinking-song. Whenever the air was a familiar one, the entire circle +joined in the chorus. At such times Sandy was always on hand, singing +with the loudest and telling his story with the best. + +"Make de jolly little Irish one to sing by hisself!" called a woman +one night from the edge of the crowd. The invitation was taken up and +repeated on every side. Sandy, laughing and protesting, was pushed to +the front. Being thus suddenly forced into prominence, he suffered an +acute attack of stage fright. + +"Chirp up there now and give us a tune!" cried some one behind him. + +"Can't ye remember none?" asked another. + +"Sure," said Sandy, laughing sheepishly; "but they all come wrong end +first." + +Some one had thrust an old guitar in his hands, and he stood +nervously picking at the strings. He might have been standing there +still had not the moon come to his rescue. It climbed slowly out of +the sea and sent a shimmer of silver and gold over the water, across +the deck, and into his eyes. He forgot himself and the crowd. The +stream of mystical romance that flows through the veins of every true +Irishman was never lacking in Sandy. His heart responded to the +beautiful as surely as the echo answers the call. + +He seized the guitar, and picking out the notes with clumsy, faltering +fingers, sang: + + "Ah! The moment was sad when my love and I parted, + Savourneen deelish, signan O!" + +His boyish voice rang out clear and true, softening on the refrain to +an indescribable tenderness that steeped the old song in the very +essence of mystery and love. + + "As I kiss'd off her tears, I was nigh broken-hearted!-- + Savourneen deelish, signan O!" + +He could remember his mother singing him to sleep by it, and the +bright red of her lips as they framed the words: + + "Wan was her cheek which hung on my shoulder; + Chill was her hand, no marble was colder; + I felt that again I should never behold her; + Savourneen deelish, signan O!" + +As the song trembled to a close, a slight burst of applause came from +the cabin deck. Sandy looked up, frowned, and bit his lip. He did not +know why, but he was sorry he had sung. + +The next morning the _America_ sailed into New York harbor, band +playing and flags flying. She was bringing home a record and a +jubilant crew. On the upper decks passengers were making merry over +what is probably the most joyful parting in the world. In the steerage +all was bustle and confusion and anticipation of the disembarking. + +Eagerly, wistfully watching it all, stood Sandy, as alert and +distressed as a young hound restrained from the hunt. It is something +to accept punishment gracefully, but to accept punishment when it can +be avoided is nothing short of heroism. Sandy had to shut his eyes and +grip the railing to keep from planning an escape. Spread before him in +brave array across the water lay the promised land--and, like Moses, +he was not to reach it. + +"That's the greatest city in America," said the ship's surgeon as he +came up to where he was standing. "What do you think of it?" + +"I never seen one stand on end afore!" exclaimed Sandy, amazed. + +"Would you like to go ashore long enough to look about?" asked the +doctor, with a smile running around the fat folds of his cheeks. + +"And would I?" asked Sandy, his eyes flying open. "It's me word of +honor I'd give you that I'd come back." + +"The word of a stowaway, eh?" asked the doctor, still smiling. + +In a moment Sandy's face was crimson. "Whatever I be, sir, I ain't a +liar!" + +The doctor pursed up his lips in comical dismay: "Not so hot, my man; +not so hot! So you still want to be a doctor?" + +Sandy cooled down sufficiently to say that it was the one ambition of +his life. + +"I know the physician in charge of the City Hospital here in New York. +He's a good fellow. He'd put you through--give you work and put you in +the way of going to the Medical School. You'd like that?" + +"But," cried Sandy, bewildered but hopeful, "I have to go back!" + +The doctor shook his head. "No, you don't. I've paid your passage." + +Sandy waited a moment until the full import of the words was taken in, +then he grabbed the stout little doctor and almost lifted him off his +feet. + +"Oh! But ain't you a brick!" he cried fervently, adding earnestly: "It +ain't a present you're makin' me, though! I'll pay it back, so help me +bob!" + +At the pier the crowd of immigrants pushed and crowded impatiently as +they waited for the cabin passengers to go ashore. Among them was +Sandy, bareheaded and in motley garb, laughing and shoving with the +best of them, hanging over the railing, and keeping up a fire of +merriment at the expense of the crowd below. In his hand was a letter +of recommendation to the physician in charge at the City Hospital, and +in his inside pocket a ten-dollar bill was buttoned over a heart that +had not a care in the world. In the great stream of life Sandy was one +of the bubbles that are apt to come to the top. + +"You better come down to Kentucky with me," urged Ricks Wilson, +resuming an old argument. "I'm goin' to peddle my way back home, then +git a payin' job at the racetrack." + +"Wasn't I tellin' ye that it was a doctor I'm goin' to be?" asked +Sandy, impatiently. Already Ricks's friendship was proving irksome. + +On the gang-plank above him the passengers were leaving the ship. +Some delay had arisen, and for a moment the procession halted. +Suddenly Sandy caught his breath. There, just above him, stood "the +damsel passing fair." Instead of the tam-o'-shanter she wore a big +drooping hat of brown, which just matched the curls that were loosely +tied at the back of her neck. + +Sandy stood motionless and humbly adored her. He was a born lover, +lavishing his affection, without discrimination or calculation, upon +whatever touched his heart. It surely was no harm just to stand aside +and look. He liked the way she carried her head; he liked the way her +eyes went up a little at the outer corners, and the round, soft curve +of her chin. She was gazing steadfastly ahead of her down the +gang-plank, and he ventured a step nearer and continued his +observations. As he did so, he made a discovery. The soft white of her +cheek was gradually becoming pinker and pinker; the color which began +under her lace collar stole up and up until it reached her eyes, +which still gazed determinedly before her. + +Sandy admired it as a traveler admires a sunrise, and with as little +idea of having caused it. + +The line of passengers moved slowly forward, and his heart sank. +Suddenly his eyes fell upon the little hand-bag which she carried. On +one end, in small white letters, was: "Ruth Nelson, Kentucky, U.S.A." +He watched her until she was lost to view, then he turned eagerly back +into the crowd. Elbowing his way forward, he seized Ricks by the arm. + +"Hi, there!" he cried; "I've changed me mind. I'm goin' with you to +Kentucky!" + +So this impetuous knight errant enlisted under the will-o'-the-wisp +love, and started joyously forth upon his quest. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +THE CURSE OF WEALTH + + +It is an oft-proved adage that for ten who can stand adversity there +is but one who can stand prosperity. Sandy, alas! was no exception to +any rule which went to prove the frailty of human nature. The sudden +acquisition of ten dollars cast him into a whirlpool of temptation +from which he made little effort to escape. + +"I ain't goin' on to-day," announced Ricks. "I'm goin' to lay in my +goods for peddlin'. I reckon you kin come along of me." + +Sandy accepted a long and strong cigar, tilted his hat, and +unconsciously caught Ricks's slouching gait as they went down the +street. After all, it was rather pleasant to associate with +sophistication. + +"We'll git on the outside of a little dinner," said Ricks; "and I'll +mosey round in the stores awhile, then I'll take you to a show or two. +It's a mighty good thing for you that you got me along." + +Sandy thought so too. He cheerfully stood treat for the rest of the +day, and felt that it was small return for Ricks's condescension. + +"How much you got left?" asked Ricks, that night, as they stopped +under a street light to take stock. + +Sandy held out a couple of dollars and a fifty-cent piece. + +"Enough to put on the eyes of two and a half dead men," he said as he +curiously eyed the strange money. + +"One, two,--two and a half," counted Ricks. + +"Shillings?" asked Sandy, amazed. + +Ricks nodded. + +"And have I blowed all that to-day?" + +"What of it?" asked Ricks. "I seen a bloke onct what lit his cigar +with a bill like the one you had!" + +"But the doctor said it was two pounds," insisted Sandy, +incredulously. He did not realize the expense of a personally +conducted tour of the Bowery. + +"Well, it's went," said Ricks, resignedly. "You can't count on settin' +up biz with what's left." + +Sandy's brows clouded, and he shifted his position restlessly. "Now I +ax yerself, Ricks, what'u'd you do?" he said. + +"Me? I don't give advice to nobody. But effen it was me I'd know +mighty quick what to do." + +"What?" said Sandy, eagerly. + +"Buy a dawg." + +"A dog? I ain't goin' blind." + +"Lor'! but you're a softhorn," said Ricks, contemptuously. "I s'pose +you'd count on leadin' him round by a pink ribbon." + +"Oh, you mean a fighter?" + +"Sure. My last dawg could do ever'thing in sight. She was so game she +went after herself in a lookin'-glass and got kilt. Oh, they's money +in dawgs, and I knows how to make 'em win ever' time." + +Sandy, tired as he was from the day's excitement, insisted upon going +in search of one at once. He already had visions of becoming the proud +owner of a canine champion that would put him immediately into the +position of lighting his cigar with a two-pound note. + +The first three weeks of their experience on the road went far to +realize their expectations. The bulldog, which had been bought in +partnership, proved a conquering hero. Through the long summer days +the boys tramped over the country, peddling their wares, and by night +they conducted sundry unlawful encounters wherever an opponent could +be found. + +Sandy enjoyed the peddling. It was astonishing what friendly +sociability and confidential intimacy were established by the sale of +blue suspenders and pink soap. He left a line of smiling testimonials +in his wake. + +But if the days were proving satisfactory, so much could not be said +of the nights. Even the phenomenal luck that followed his dog failed +to keep up his enthusiasm. + +"You ain't a nachrul sport," complained Ricks. "That's your trouble. +When the last fight was on, you set on the fence and listened at a' +ole idiot scrapin' a fiddle down in the valley." + +Sandy made a feeble defense, but he knew in his soul it was so. + +Affairs reached a climax one night in an old barn on the outskirts of +a town. A fight was about to begin when Sandy discovered Ricks +judiciously administering a sedative to the enemy's dog. + +Then understanding dawned upon him, and his rage was elemental. With a +valor that lacked the better part of discretion, he hurled himself +through the crowd and fell upon Ricks. + +An hour later, bruised, bloody, and vanquished, he stumbled along +through the dreary night. Hot with rage and defeat, utterly ignorant +of his whereabouts, his one friend turned foe, he was indeed in sorry +plight. + +He climbed over the fence and lay face downward in the long, cool +grass, stretching his bruised and aching body along the ground. A +gentle night wind rustled above him, and by and by a star peeped out, +then another and another. Before he knew it, he was listening to the +frogs and katydids, and wondering what they were talking about. He +ceased to think about Ricks and his woes, and gave himself up to the +delicious, drowsy peace that was all about him. For, child of nature +that he was, he had turned to the only mother he knew. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +SIDE-TRACKED + + +The next morning, at the nearest railroad station, an irate cattleman +was trying to hire some one to take charge of a car of live stock +which was on its way to a great exposition in a neighboring city. The +man he had counted on had not appeared, and the train was about due. + +As he was turning away in desperation he felt a tug at his elbow. +Looking around, he saw a queer figure with a countenance that +resembled a first attempt at a charcoal sketch from life: one cheek +was larger than the other, the mouth was sadly out of drawing, the +eyes shone out from among the bruises like the sun from behind the +clouds. But if the features were disfigured, the smile was none the +less courageous. + +Sandy had found a friendly sympathizer at a neighboring farm-house, +had been given a good breakfast, had made his toilet, and was ready +for the next round in the fight of life. + +"I'll be doin' yer job, sir, whatever it is," he said pleasantly. + +The man eyed him with misgiving, but his need was urgent. + +"All you have to do is to stay in the car and look after the cattle. +My man will meet you when you reach the city. Do you think you can do +it?" + +"Just keep company with the cows?" cried Sandy. "Sure and I can!" + +So the bargain was struck, and that night found him in the great city +with a dollar in his pocket and a promise of work in the morning. + +Tired and sore from the experiences of the night before, he sought a +cheap lodging-house near by. A hook-nosed woman, carrying a smoking +lamp, conducted him to a room under the eaves. It was small and +suffocating. He involuntarily lifted his hands and touched the +ceiling. + +"It's like a boilin' potato I feel," he said; "and the pot's so little +and the lid so tight!" + +He went to the window, and taking out the nail that held down the +sash, pushed it up. Below him lay the great, bustling city, cabs and +cars in constant motion, long lines of blazing lights marking the +thoroughfares, the thunder of trains in the big station, and above and +below and through it all a dull monotonous roar, like the faraway +unceasing cry of a hungry beast. + +He sank on his knees by the window, and a restless, nervous look came +into his eyes. + +"It presses in, too," he thought. "It's all crowdin' over me. I'm just +me by myself, all alone." A tear made a white course down his grimy +cheek, then another and another. He brushed them impatiently away with +the cap he still held in his hand. + +Rising abruptly, he turned away from the window, and the hot air of +the room again smote him. The smoking lamp had blackened the chimney, +and as he bent to turn it down, he caught his reflection in a small +mirror over the table. What the bruises and swelling had left undone +the cheap mirror completed. He started back. Was that the boy he knew +as himself? Was that Sandy Kilday who had come to America to seek his +fortune? He stared in a sort of fascinated horror at that other boy in +the mirror. Before he had been afraid to be by himself, now he was +afraid of himself. + +He seized his cap, and blowing out the lamp, plunged down four flights +of steep narrow steps and out into the street. A number of people were +crowding into a street-car marked "Exposition." Sandy, ever a straw in +the current, joined them. Once more down among his fellow-men, he +began to feel more comfortable. He cheerfully paid his entrance fee +with one of the two silver coins in his pocket. + +The first building he entered was the art gallery, and the first +picture that caught his eye held him spellbound. He sat before it all +the evening with fascinated eyes, devouring every detail and oblivious +to the curious interest he was attracting; for the huge canvas +represented the Knights of the Round Table, and he had at last found +friends. + +All the way back he thought about the picture; it was not until he +reached his room that the former loneliness returned. + +But even then it was not for long. A pair of yellow eyes peered around +the window-sill, and a plaintive "meow" begged for admittance. It was +plainly Providence that guided that thin and ill-treated kitten to +Sandy's window. The welcome it received must have completely restored +its shaken faith in human nature. Tired as he was, Sandy went out and +bought some milk. He wanted to establish a firm friendship; for if he +was to stay in this lonely city, he must have something to love, if +only a prodigal kitten of doubtful pedigree. + +During the long, hot days that followed Sandy worked faithfully at the +depot. The regular hours and confinement seemed doubly irksome after +the bohemian life on the road. + +The Exposition was his salvation. No sacrifice seemed too great to +enable him to get beyond that magic gate. For the "Knights of the +Round Table" was but the beginning of miles and miles of wonderful +pictures. He even bought a catalogue, and, prompted by a natural +curiosity for anything that interested him, learned the names of the +artists he liked best, and the bits of biography attached to each. He +would recite these to the yellow kitten when he got back to his little +hot-box of a room. + +One night the art gallery was closed, and he went into another big +building where a crowd of people were seated. At one end of it was a +great pipe-organ, and after a while some one began to play. With his +cap tightly grasped in both hands, he tiptoed down the center aisle +and stood breathlessly drinking in the wonderful tones that seemed to +be coming from his own heart. + +"Get out of the way, boy," said an usher. "You are blocking the +aisle." + +A queer-appearing lady who looked like a man touched his elbow. + +"Here's a seat," she said in a deep voice. + +"Thank you, sir," said Sandy, absently. He scarcely knew whether he +was sitting or standing. He only wanted to be let alone, so that he +could listen to those strange, beautiful sounds that made a shiver of +joy go down his back. Art had had her day; it was Music's turn. + +When the last number had been played, he turned to the queer lady: + +"Do they do it every night?" + +She smiled at his enthusiasm: "Wednesdays and Saturdays." + +"Say," said Sandy, confidentially, "if you come first do you save me +a seat, and I'll do the same by you." + +From that time on he decided to be a musician, and he lived on two +scanty meals a day in order to attend the concerts. + +But this exalted scheme of high thinking and plain living soon became +irksome. One day, when his loneliness weighed most heavily upon him, +he was sent with a message out to the switch-station. As he tramped +back along the track he spied a familiar figure ahead of him. There +was no mistaking that short, slouching body with the peddler's pack +strapped on its back. With a cry of joy, Sandy bounded after Ricks +Wilson. He actually hugged him in his joy to be once more with some +one he knew. + +Ricks glanced uneasily at the scar above his eye. + +Sandy clapped his hand over it and laughed. "It's all right, Ricks; a +miss is as good as a mile. I ain't mad any more. It's straight home +with me you are goin'; and if we can get the two feet of you into me +bit of a room, we'll have a dinner that's fit for a king." + +On the way they laid in a supply of provisions, Sandy even going to +the expense of a bottle of beer for Ricks. + +The yellow kitten arched her back and showed general signs of +hostility when the stranger was introduced. But her unfriendly +demonstrations were ignored. Ricks was the honored guest, and Sandy +extended to him the full hospitality of the establishment. + +"Put your pack on the floor and yerself in the chair, and I'll get ye +filled up in the blink of an eyelash. Don't be mindin' the cat, Ricks. +She's just lettin' on she don't take to you. She give me the wink on +the sly." + +Ricks, expanding under the influence of food and drink, became +eloquent. He recounted courageous adventures of the past, and outlined +marvelous schemes for the future, by which he was going to make a +short cut to fame and glory. + +When it was time for him to go, Sandy heaved a sigh of regret. For +two hours he had been beguiled by Ricks's romances, and now he had to +go back to the humdrum duties at the depot, and receive a sound rating +for his belated appearance. + +"Which way might you be goin', Ricks?" he asked wistfully. + +"Same place I started fer," said Ricks. "Kentucky." + +The will-o'-the-wisp, which had been hiding his light, suddenly swung +it full in the eyes of Sandy. Once more he saw the little maid of his +dreams, and once more he threw discretion to the winds and followed +the vision. + +Hastily collecting his few possessions, he rolled them into a bundle, +and slipping the surprised kitten into his pocket, he gladly followed +Ricks once more out into the broad green meadows, along the white and +shining roads that lead over the hills to Kentucky. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +SANDY RETIRES FROM BUSINESS + + +"This here is too blame slow fer me," said Ricks, one chilly night in +late September, as he and Sandy huddled against a haystack and settled +up their weekly accounts. + +"Fifty-five cents! Now ain't that a' o'nery dab? Here's a quarter fer +you and thirty cents fer me; that's as even as you kin split it." + +"It's the microscopes that'll be sellin'," said Sandy, hopefully, as +he pulled his coat collar about his ears and shivered. "The man as +sold 'em to me said they was a great bargain entirely. He thought +there was money in 'em." + +"For him," said Ricks, contemptuously. "It's like the man what gulled +us on the penknives. I lay to git even with him, all right." + +"But he give us the night's lodgin' and some breakfast," said Sandy. + +Ricks took a long drink from a short bottle, then holding it before +him, he said impressively: "A feller could do me ninety-nine good +turns, and if he done me one bad one it would wipe 'em all out. I got +to git even with anybody what does me dirty, if it takes me all my +life." + +"But don't you forget to remember?" + +"Not me. I ain't that kind." + +Sandy leaned wearily against the haystack and tried to shelter himself +from the wind. A continued diet of bread and water had made him +sensitive to the changes in the weather. + +"This here grub is kinder hard on yer head-rails," said Ricks, trying +to bite through a piece of stale bread. A baker had let them have +three loaves for a dime because they were old and hard. + +Sandy cast a longing look at Ricks's short bottle. It seemed to +remedy so many ills, heat or cold, thirst or hunger. But the strict +principles applied during his tender years made him hesitate. + +"I wish we hadn't lost the kitten," he said, feeling the need of a +more cheerful companion. + +"I'm a-goin' to git another dawg," announced Ricks. "I'm sick of this +here doin's." + +"Ain't we goin' to be turfmen?" asked Sandy, who had listened by the +hour to thrilling accounts of life on the track, and had accepted +Ricks's ambition as his own. + +"Not on twenty cents per week," growled Ricks. + +Sandy's heart sank; he knew what a new dog meant. He burrowed in the +hay and tried to sleep, but there was a queer pain that seemed to +catch hold of his breath whenever he breathed down deep. + +It rained the next day, and they tramped disconsolately through +village after village. + +They had oil-cloth covers for their baskets, but their own backs were +soaked to the skin. + +Toward evening they came to the top of a hill, from which they could +look directly down upon a large town lying comfortably in the crook of +a river's elbow. The rain had stopped, and the belated sun, struggling +through the clouds, made up for lost time by reflecting itself in +every curve of the winding stream, in every puddle along the road, and +in every pane of glass that faced the west. + +"That's a nobby hoss," said Ricks, pointing down the hill. "What's the +matter with the feller?" + +A slight, delicate-looking young man was lying in the road, between +the horse and the fence. As the boys came up he stirred and tried to +rise. + +"He's off his nut," said Ricks, starting to pass on; but Sandy +stopped. + +"Get a fall?" he asked. + +The strange boy shook his head. "I guess I fainted. I must have +ridden too hard. I'll be all right in a minute." He leaned his head +against a tree and closed his eyes. + +Sandy eyed him curiously, taking in all the details of his +riding-costume down to the short whip with the silver mounting. + +"I say, Ricks," he called to his companion, who was inspecting the +horse, "can't we do somethin' for him?" + +Ricks reluctantly produced the short bottle. + +"I'm all right," insisted the boy, "if you'll just give me a lift to +the saddle." But his eager eyes followed the bottle, and before Ricks +had returned it to his pocket he held out his hand. "I believe I will +take a drink if you don't mind." He drained the contents and then +handed a coin to Ricks. + +"Now, if you'll help me," continued the stranger. "There! Thank you +very much." + +"Say, what town is this, anyway?" asked Ricks. + +"Clayton," said the boy, trying to keep his horse from backing. + +"Looks like somethin' was doin'," said Ricks. + +"Circus, I believe." + +"Then I don't blame your nag for wantin' to go back!" cried Sandy. +"Come on, Ricks; let's take in the show!" + +Half-way down the hill he turned. "Haven't we seen that fellow before, +Ricks?" + +"Not as I knows of. He looked kinder pale and shaky, but you bet yer +life he knowed how to hit the bottle." + +"He was sick," urged Sandy. + +"An' thirsty," added Ricks, with a smile of superior wisdom. + +The circus seemed such a timely opportunity to do business that they +decided to rent a stand that night and sell their wares on the street +corner. Ricks went on into town to arrange matters, while Sandy +stopped in a grocery to buy their supper. His interest in the show had +been of short duration. He felt listless and tired, something seemed +to be buzzing continually in his head, and he shivered in his damp +clothes. In the grocery he sat on a barrel and leaned his head against +the wall. + +"What you shivering about?" asked the fat woman behind the counter, as +she tied up his small package. + +"I feel like me skeleton was doin' a jig inside of me," said Sandy +through chattering teeth. + +"Looks to me like you got a chill," said the fat woman. "You wait +here, and I'll go git you some hot coffee." + +She disappeared in the rear of the store, and soon returned with a +small coffee-pot and a cup and saucer. Sandy drank two cups and a +half, then he asked the price. + +"Price?" repeated the woman, indignantly. "I reckon you don't know +which side of the Ohio River you're on!" + +Sandy made up in gratitude what she declined in cash, and started on +his way. At the corner of Main street and the bridge he found Ricks, +who had rented a stand and was already arranging his wares. Sandy +knelt on the sidewalk and unpacked his basket. + +"Only three bars of soap and seventy-five microscopes!" he exclaimed +ruefully. "Let's be layin' fine stress on the microscopes, Ricks." + +"You do the jawin', Sandy. I ain't much on givin' 'em the talk," said +Ricks. "Chuck a jolly at 'em and keep 'em hangin' round." + +As dark came on, trade began. The three bars of soap were sold, and a +purple necktie. Sandy saw that public taste must be guided in the +proper direction. He stepped up on a box and began eloquently to +enumerate the diverse uses of microscopes. + +At each end of the stand a flaring torch lighted up the scene. The +light fell on the careless, laughing faces in front, on Ricks Wilson, +black-browed and suspicious, in the rear, and it fell full on Sandy, +who stood on high and harangued the crowd. It fell on his broad, +straight shoulders and on his shining tumbled hair; but it was not +the light of the torch that gave the brightness to his eyes and the +flush to his cheek. His head was throbbing, but he felt a curious +sense of elation. He felt that he could stand there and talk the rest +of his life. He made the crowd listen, he made it laugh, he made it +buy. He told stories and sang songs, he coaxed and persuaded, until +only a few microscopes were left and the old cigar-box was heavy with +silver. + +"Step right up and take a look at a fly's leg! Every one ought to have +a microscope in his home. When you get hard up it will make a dime +look like a dollar, and a dollar like a five-dollar gold piece. Step +right up! I ain't kiddin' you. Five cents for two looks, and fifteen +for the microscope." + +Suddenly he faltered. At the edge of the crowd he had recognized two +faces. They were sensitive slender faces, strangely alike in feature +and unlike in expression. The young horseman of the afternoon was +impatiently pushing his way through the crowd, while close behind him +was a dainty girl with brown eyes slightly lifted at the outer +corners, who held back in laughing wonder to watch the scene. + +"Ricks," said Sandy, lowering his voice unsteadily, "is this +Kentucky?" + +"Yep; we crossed the line to-day." + +"I can't talk no more," said Sandy. "You'll have to be doin' it. I'm +sick." + +It was not only the fever that was burning in his veins, and making +him bury his hot head in his hands and wish he had never been born. It +was shame and humiliation, and all because of the look on the face of +the girl at the edge of the crowd. He sat in the shadow of the big box +and fought his fight. The coffee and the excitement no longer kept him +up; he was faint, and his breath came short. Above him he heard +Ricks's rasping voice still talking to the few customers who were +left. He knew, without glancing up, just how Ricks looked when he said +the words; he knew how his teeth pushed his lips back, and how his +restless little eyes watched everything at once. A sudden fierce +repulsion swept over him for peddling, for Ricks, for himself. + +"And to think," he whispered, with a sob in his throat, "that I can't +ever speak to a girl like that!" + +Ricks, jubilant over the success of the evening, decided to follow the +circus, which was to be in the next town on the following day. + +"It ain't fur," he said. "We kin push on to-night and be ready to open +early in the morning." + +Sandy, miserable in body and spirit, mechanically obeyed instructions. +His head was getting queerer all the time, and he could not remember +whether it was day or night. About a mile from Clayton he sank down by +the road. + +"Say, Ricks," he said abruptly; "I'm after quittin' peddlin'." + +"What you goin' to do?" + +"I'm goin' to school." + +If Sandy had announced his intention of putting on baby clothes and +being wheeled in a perambulator, Ricks could not have been more +astonished. + +"What?" he asked in genuine doubt. + +"'Cause I want to be the right sort," burst out Sandy, passionately. +"This ain't the way you get to be the right sort." + +Ricks surveyed him contemptuously. "Look-a here, are you comin' along +of me or not?" + +"I can't," said Sandy, weakly. + +Ricks shifted his pack, and with never a parting word or a backward +look he left his business partner of three months lying by the +roadside, and tramped away in the darkness. + +Sandy started up to follow him; he tried to call, but he had no +strength. He lay with his face on the road and talked. He knew there +was nobody to listen, but still he kept on, softly talking about +microscopes and pink soap, crying out again and again that he +couldn't ever speak to a girl like that. + +After a long while somebody came. At first he thought he must have +gone back to the land behind the peat-flames, for it was a great black +witch who bent over him, and he instinctively felt about in the grass +for the tender, soft hand which he used to press against his cheek. He +found instead the hand of the witch herself, and he drew back in +terror. + +"Fer de Lawd sake, honey, what's de matter wif you?" asked a kindly +voice. Sandy opened his eyes. A tall old negro woman bent over him, +her head tied up in a turban, and a shawl about her shoulders. + +"Did you git runned over?" she asked, peering down at him anxiously. + +Sandy tried to explain, but it was all the old mixture of soap and +microscopes and never being able to speak to her. He knew he was +talking at random, but he could not say the things he thought. + +"Where'd you come from, boy?" + +"Curragh Chase, Limerick," murmured Sandy. + +"'Fore de Lawd, he's done been cunjered!" cried the old woman, aghast. +"I'll git it outen of you, chile. You jus' come home wif yer Aunt +Melvy; she'll take keer of you. Put yer arm on my shoulder; dat's +right. Don't you mind where you gwine at. I got yer bundle. It ain't +fur. Hit's dat little house a-hangin' on de side of de hill. Dey calls +it 'Who'd 'a' Thought It,' 'ca'se you nebber would 'a' thought of +puttin' a house dere. Dat's right; lean on yer mammy. I'll git dem old +cunjers outen you." + +Thus encouraged and supported, Sandy stumbled on through the dark, up +a hillside that seemed never to end, across a bridge, then into a tiny +log cabin, where he dropped exhausted. + +Off and on during the night he knew that there was a fire in the room, +and that strange things were happening to him. But it was all so queer +and unnatural that he did not know where the dreams left off and the +real began. He was vaguely conscious of his left foot being tied to +the right bedpost, of a lock of his hair being cut off and burned on +the hearth, and of a low monotonous chant that seemed to rise and fall +with the flicker of the flames. And when he cried out with the pain in +his sleep, a kindly black face bent over him, and the chant changed +into a soothing murmur: + +"Nebber you min', sonny; Aunt Melvy gwine git dem cunjers out. She +gwine stay by you. You hol' on to her han', an' go to sleep; she'll +git dem old cunjers out." + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +HOLLIS FARM + + +Clayton was an easy-going, prosperous old town which, in the +enthusiasm of youth, had started to climb the long hill to the north, +but growing indolent with age, had decided instead to go around. + +Main street, broad and shady under an unbroken arch of maple boughs, +was flanked on each side by "Back street," the generic term applied to +all the parallel streets. The short cross-streets were designated by +the most direct method: "the street by the Baptist church," "the +street by Dr. Fenton's," "the street going out to Judge Hollis's," or +"the street where Mr. Moseley used to live." In the heart of the town +was the square, with the gray, weather-beaten court-house, the new and +formidable jail, the post-office and church. + +For twenty years Dr. Fenton's old high-seated buggy had jogged over +the same daily course. It started at nine o'clock and passed with +never-varying regularity up one street and down another. When any one +was ill a sentinel was placed at the gate to hail the doctor, who was +as sure to pass as the passenger-train. It was a familiar joke in +Clayton that the buggy had a regular track, and that the wheels always +ran in the same rut. Once, when Carter Nelson had taken too much +egg-nog and his aunt thought he had spinal meningitis, the usual route +had been reversed, and again when the blacksmith's triplets were born. +But these were especial occasions. It was a matter for investigation +when the doctor's buggy went over the bridge before noon. + +"Anybody sick out this way?" asked the miller. + +The doctor stopped the buggy to explain. + +He was a short, fat man dressed in a suit of Confederate gray. The +hand that held the reins was minus two fingers, his willing +contribution to the Lost Cause, which was still to him the great +catastrophe of all history. His whole personality was a bristling +arsenal of prejudices. When he spoke it was in quick, short volleys, +in a voice that seemed to come from the depths of a megaphone. + +"Strange boy sick at Judge Hollis's. How's trade?" + +"Fair to middlin'," answered the miller. "Do you reckon that there boy +has got anything ketchin'?" + +"Catching?" repeated the doctor savagely. "What if he has?" he +demanded. "Two epidemics of typhoid, two of yellow fever, and one of +smallpox--that's my record, sir!" + +"Looks like my children will ketch a fly-bite," said the miller, +apologetically. + +A little farther on the doctor was stopped again--this time by a +maiden in a pink-and-white gingham, with a mass of light curls +bobbing about her face. + +"Dad!" she called as she scrambled over the fence. "Where you g-going, +dad?" + +The doctor flapped the lines nervously and tried to escape, but she +pursued him madly. Catching up with the buggy, she pulled herself up +on the springs and thrust an impudent, laughing face through the +window at the back. + +"Annette," scolded her father, "aren't you ashamed? Fourteen years +old, and a tomboy! Get down!" + +"Where you g-going, dad?" she stammered, unabashed. + +"To Judge Hollis's. Get down this minute!" + +"What for?" + +"Somebody's sick. Get down, I say!" + +Instead of getting down, she got in, coming straight through the small +window, and arriving in a tangle of pink and white at his side. + +The doctor heaved a prodigious sigh. As a colonel of the Confederacy +he had exacted strict discipline and unquestioning obedience, but he +now found himself ignominiously reduced to the ranks, and another +Fenton in command. + +At Hollis Farm the judge met them at the gate. He was large and +loose-jointed, with the frame of a Titan and the smile of a child. He +wore a long, loose dressing-gown and a pair of slippers elaborately +embroidered in green roses. His big, irregular features were softened +by an expression of indulgent interest toward the world at large. + +"Good morning, doctor. Howdy, Nettie. How are you all this morning?" + +"Who's sick?" growled the doctor as he hitched his horse to the fence. + +"It's a stray lad, doctor; my old cook, Melvy, played the good +Samaritan and picked him up off the road last night. She brought him +to me this morning. He's out of his head with a fever." + +"Where'd he come from?" asked the doctor. + +"Mrs. Hollis says he was peddling goods up at Main street and the +bridge last night." + +"Which one is he?" demanded Annette, eagerly, as she emerged from the +buggy. "Is he g-good-looking, with blue eyes and light hair? Or is he +b-black and ugly and sort of cross-eyed?" + +The judge peered over his glasses quizzically. "Thinking about the +boys, as usual! Now I want to know what business you have noticing the +color of a peddler's eyes?" + +Annette blushed, but she stood her ground. "All the g-girls noticed +him. He wasn't an ordinary peddler. He was just as smart and f-funny +as could be." + +"Well, he isn't smart and funny now," said the judge, with a grim +laugh. + +The two men passed up the long avenue and into the house. At the door +they were met by Mrs. Hollis, whose small angular person breathed +protest. Her black hair was arranged in symmetrical bands which were +drawn tightly back from a straight part. When she talked, a +gold-capped tooth was disclosed on each side of her mouth, giving rise +to the judge's joke that one was capped to keep the other company, +since Mrs. Hollis's sense of order and regularity rebelled against one +eye-tooth of one color and the other of another. + +"Good morning, doctor," she said shortly; "there's the door-mat. No, +don't put your hat there; I'll take it. Isn't this a pretty business +for Melvy to come bringing a sick tramp up here--on general +cleaning-day, too?" + +"Aren't all days cleaning-days to you, Sue?" asked the judge, +playfully. + +"When you are in the house," she answered sharply. Then she turned to +the doctor, who was starting up the stairs: + +"If this boy is in for a long spell, I want him moved somewhere. I +can't have my carpets run over and my whole house smelling like a +hospital." + +"Now, Susan," remonstrated the judge, gently, "we can't turn the lad +out. We've got room and to spare. If he's got the fever, he'll have +to stay." + +"We'll see, we'll see," said the doctor. + +But when he tiptoed down from the room above there was no question +about it. + +"Very sick boy," he said, rubbing his hand over his bald head. "If he +gets better, I might take him over to Mrs. Meech's; he can't be moved +now." + +"Mrs. Meech!" cried Mrs. Hollis, in fine scorn. "Do you think I would +let him go to that dirty house--and with this fever, too? Why, Mrs. +Meech's front curtains haven't been washed since Christmas! She and +the preacher and Martha all sit around with their noses in books, and +never even know that the water-spout is leaking and the porch needs +mopping! You can't tell me anything about the Meeches!" + +Neither of the men tried to do so; they stood silent in the doorway, +looking very grave. + +"For mercy sake! what is that in the front lot?" exclaimed Mrs. +Hollis. + +The doctor had an uncomfortable premonition, which was promptly +verified. One of the judge's friskiest colts was circling madly about +the driveway, while astride of it, in triumph, sat Annette, her dress +ripped at the belt, her hair flying. + +"If she don't need a woman's hand!" exclaimed Mrs. Hollis. "I could +manage her all right." + +The doctor looked from Mrs. Hollis, with her firm, close-shut mouth, +to the flying figure on the lawn. + +"Perhaps," he said, lifting his brows; but he put the odds on Annette. + +That night, when Aunt Melvy brought the lamp into the sitting-room, +she waited nervously near Mrs. Hollis's chair. + +"Miss Sue," she ventured presently, "is de cunjers comin' out?" + +"The what?" + +"De cunjers what dat pore chile's got. I done tried all de spells I +knowed, but look lak dey didn't do no good." + +"He has the fever," said Mrs. Hollis; "and it means a long spell of +nursing and bother for me." + +The judge stirred uncomfortably. "Now, Sue," he remonstrated, "you +needn't take a bit of bother. Melvy will see to him by day, and I will +look after him at night." + +Mrs. Hollis bit her lip and heroically refrained from expressing her +mind. + +"He's a mighty purty chile," said Aunt Melvy, tentatively. + +"He's a common tramp," said Mrs. Hollis. + +After supper, arranging a tray with a snowy napkin and a steaming bowl +of broth, Mrs. Hollis went up to the sick-room. Her first step had +been to have the patient bathed and combed and made presentable for +the occupancy of the guest-chamber. It had been with rebellion of +spirit that she placed him there, but the judge had taken one of those +infrequent stands which she knew it was useless to resist. She put the +tray on a table near the big four-poster bed, and leaned over to look +at the sleeper. + +Sandy lay quiet among the pillows, his fair hair tumbled, his lips +parted. As the light fell on his flushed face he stirred. + +"Here's your supper," said Mrs. Hollis, her voice softening in spite +of herself. He was younger than she had thought. She slipped her arm +under the pillow and raised his head. + +"You must eat," she said kindly. + +He looked at her vacantly, then a momentary consciousness flitted over +his face, a vague realization that he was being cared for. He put up a +hot hand and gently touched her cheek; then, rallying all his +strength, he smiled away his debt of gratitude. It was over in a +moment, and he sank back unconscious. + +[Illustration: "He smiled away his debt of gratitude"] + +Through the dreary hours of the night Mrs. Hollis sat by the bed, +nursing him with the aching tenderness that only a childless woman can +know. Below, in the depths of a big feather-bed, the judge slept in +peaceful unconcern, disturbing the silence by a series of long, loud, +and unmelodious snores. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +CONVALESCENCE + + +"Is that the Nelson phaëton going out the road?" asked Mrs. Hollis as +she peered out through the dining-room window one morning. "I +shouldn't be a bit surprised if it was Mrs. Nelson making her yearly +visits, and here my bricks haven't been reddened." + +Sandy's heart turned a somersault. He was sitting up for the first +time, wrapped in blankets and wearing a cap to cover his close-cropped +head. All through his illness he had been tortured by the thought that +he had talked of Ruth, though now wild horses could not have dragged +forth a question concerning her. + +"Melvy," continued Mrs. Hollis, as she briskly rubbed the sideboard +with some unsavory furniture-polish, "if Mrs. Nelson does come here, +you be sure to put on your white apron before you open the door; and +for pity sake don't forget the card-tray! You ought to know better +than to stick out your hand for a lady's calling-card. I told you +about that last week." + +Aunt Melvy paused in her dusting and chuckled: "Lor', honey, dat's +right! You orter put on airs all de time, wid all de money de judge is +got. He says to me yisterday, says he, 'Can't you 'suade yer Miss Sue +not to be cleanin' up so much, an' not to go out in de front yard wid +dat ole sunbonnet on?'" + +"Well, I'd like to know how things would get done if I didn't do +them," exclaimed Mrs. Hollis, hotly. "I suppose he would like me to +let things go like the Meeches! The only time I ever saw Mrs. Meech +work was when she swept the front pavement, and then she made Martha +walk around behind her and read out loud while she was doing it." + +"It's Mr. Meech that's in the yard now," announced Sandy from the +side window. "He's raking the leaves with one hand and a-reading a +book with the other." + +"I knew it!" cried Mrs. Hollis. "I never saw such doings. They say she +even leaves the dishes overnight. And yet she can sit on her porch and +smile at people going by, just like her house was cleaned up. I hate a +hypocrite." + +Sandy had had ample time to watch the Meeches during his long +convalescence. He had been moved from the spare room to a snug little +room over the kitchen, which commanded a fine view of the neighbors. +When the green book got too heavy to hold, or his eyes grew too tired +to look at the many magazines with which the judge supplied him, he +would lie still and watch the little drama going on next door. + +Mrs. Meech was a large, untidy woman who always gave the impression of +needing to be tucked up. The end of her gray braid hung out behind one +ear, her waist hung out of her belt, and even the buttons on her +shoes hung out of the buttonholes in shameless laziness. + +Mr. Meech did not need tucking in; he needed letting out. He seemed to +have shrunk in the wash of life. In spite of the fact that he was +three sizes too small for his wife, to begin with, he emphasized it by +wearing trousers that cleared his shoe-tops and sleeves half-way to +his elbows. But this was only on week-days, for on Sunday Sandy would +see him emerge, expand, and flutter forth in an ample suit of shiny +broadcloth. For Mr. Meech was the pastor of the Hard-Shell Baptist +Church in Clayton, and if his domestic economy was a matter of open +gossip, there was no question concerning the fact of his learning. It +had been the boast of the congregation for years that Judge Hollis was +the only man in town who was smart enough to understand his sermons. +When Mr. Meech started out in the morning with a book under his arm +and one sticking out of each pocket, Sandy would pull up on his elbow +to watch proceedings. He loved to see fat Mrs. Meech pat the little +man lovingly on the head and kiss him good-by; he loved to see Martha +walk with him to the gate and throw kisses after him until he turned +the curve in the road. + +Martha was a pale, thin girl with two long, straight plaits and a +long, straight dress. She went to school in the morning, and when she +came home at noon her mother always hurried to meet her and kissed her +on both cheeks. Sandy had got quite in the habit of watching for her +at the side window where she came to study. He leaned forward now to +see if she were there. + +"I thought so!" cried Mrs. Hollis, looking over his shoulder. "There +comes the Nelson phaëton this minute! Melvy, get on your white apron. +I'll wind up the cuckoo-clock and unlock the parlor door." + +"Who is it?" ventured Sandy, with internal tremors. + +"Hit's Mrs. Nelson an' her niece, Miss Rufe," said Aunt Melvy, +nervously trying to reverse her apron after tying the bow in the +front. "Dey's big bugs, dey is. Dey is quality, an' no mistake. I +b'longed to Miss Rufe's grandpaw; he done lef' her all his money, she +an' Mr. Carter. Poor Mr. Carter! Dey say he ain't got no lungs to +speak of. Ain't no wonder he's sorter wild like. He takes after his +grandpaw, my ole mars'. Lor', honey, de mint-juleps jus' nachelly ooze +outen de pores ob his grandpaw's skin! But Miss Rufe she ain't like +none ob dem Nelsons; she favors her maw. She's quality inside an' +out." + +A peal of the bell cut short further interesting revelations. Aunt +Melvy hurried through the hall, leaving doors open behind her. At the +front door she paused in dismay. Before her stood the Nelsons in +calling attire, presenting two immaculate cards for her acceptance. +Too late she remembered her instructions. + +"'Fore de Lawd!" she cried in consternation, "ef I ain't done fergit +dat pan ag'in!" + +Sandy, left alone in the dining-room, was listening with every nerve +a-quiver for the sound of Ruth's voice. The thought that she was here +under the same roof with him sent the blood bounding through his +veins. He pulled himself up, and trailing the blanket behind him, made +his way somewhat unsteadily across the room and up the back stairs. + +Behind the door of his room hung the pride of his soul, a new suit of +clothes, whole, patchless, clean, which the judge had bought him two +days before. He had sat before it in speechless admiration; he had +hung it in every possible light to get the full benefit of its beauty; +he had even in the night placed it on a chair beside the bed, so that +he could put out his hand in the dark and make sure it was there. For +it was the first new suit of clothes that he remembered ever to have +possessed. He had not intended to wear it until Sunday, but the +psychological moment had arrived. + +With trembling fingers and many pauses for rest, he made his toilet. +He looked in the mirror, and his heart nearly burst with pride. The +suit, to be sure, hung limp on his gaunt frame, and his shaven head +gave him the appearance of a shorn lamb, but to Sandy the reflection +was eminently satisfying. One thing only seemed to be lacking. He +meditated a moment, then, with some misgiving, picked up a small linen +doily from the dresser, and carefully folding it, placed it in his +breast-pocket, with one corner just visible. + +Triumphant in mind, if weak in body, he slipped down the back steps, +skirted Aunt Melvy's domain, and turned the corner of the house just +as the Nelson phaëton rolled out of the yard. Before he had time to +give way to utter despair a glimmer of hope appeared on the horizon, +for the phaëton stopped, and there was evidently something the matter. +Sandy did not wait for it to be remedied. He ran down the road with +all the speed he could muster. + +Near the gate where the little branch crossed the turnpike was a +slight embankment, and two wheels of the phaëton had slipped over the +edge and were buried deep in the soft earth. Beside it, sitting +indignantly in the water, was an irate lady who had evidently +attempted to get out backward and had taken a sudden and unexpected +seat. Her countenance was a pure specimen of Gothic architecture; a +massive pompadour reared itself above two Gothic eyebrows which +flanked a nose of unquestioned Gothic tendencies. Her mouth, with its +drooping corners, completed the series of arches, and the whole +expression was one of aspiring melancholy and injured majesty. + +Kneeling at her side, reassuring her and wiping the water from her +hands, was Ruth Nelson. + +"God send you ain't hurt, ma'am!" cried Sandy, arriving breathless. + +The girl looked up and shook her head in smiling protest, but the +Gothic lady promptly suffered a relapse. + +"I am--I know I am! Just look at my dress covered with mud, and my +glove is split. Get my smelling-salts, Ruth!" + +Ruth, upon whom the lady was leaning, turned to Sandy. + +"Will you hand it to me? It is in the little bag there on the seat." + +Sandy rushed to do her bidding. He was rather hazy as to the object of +his search; but when his fingers touched a round, soft ball he drew it +forth and hastily presented it to the lady's Roman nose. + +She, with closed eyes, was taking deep whiffs when a laugh startled +her. + +"Oh, Aunt Clara, it's your powder-puff!" cried Ruth, unable to +restrain her mirth. + +Mrs. Nelson rose with as much dignity as her draggled condition would +permit. "You'd better get me home," she said solemnly. "I may be +internally injured." She turned to Sandy. "Boy, can't you get that +phaëton back on the road?" + +Sandy, whose chagrin over his blunder had sent him to the background, +came promptly forward. Seizing the wheel, he made several ineffectual +efforts to lift it back to the road. + +"It is not moving an inch!" announced the mournful voice from above. +"Can't you take hold of it nearer the back, and exert a little more +strength?" + +Sandy bit his lip and shot a swift glance at Ruth. She was still +smiling. With savage determination he fell upon the wheel as if it had +been a mortal foe; he pushed and shoved and pulled, and finally, with +a rally of all his strength, he went on his knees in the mud and +lifted the phaëton back on the road. + +Then came a collapse, and he leaned against the nearest tree and +struggled with the deadly faintness that was stealing over him. + +"Why--why, you are the boy who was sick!" cried Ruth, in dismay. + +Sandy, white and trembling, shook his head protestingly. "It's me +bellows that's rocky," he explained between gasps. + +Mrs. Nelson rustled back into the phaëton, and taking a piece of money +from her purse, held it out to him. + +"That will amply repay you," she said. + +Sandy flushed to the roots of his close-cropped hair. A tip, +heretofore a gift of the gods, had suddenly become an insult. Angry, +impetuous words rushed to his lips, and he took a step forward. Then +he was aware of a sudden change in the girl, who had just stepped into +the phaëton. She shot a quick, indignant look at her aunt, then turned +around and smiled a good-by to him. + +He lifted his cap and said, "I thank ye." But it was not to Mrs. +Nelson, who still held the money as they drove out of the avenue. + +Sandy went wearily back to the house. He had made his first trial in +behalf of his lady fair, but his soul knew no elation. His beautiful +new armor had sustained irreparable injury, and his vanity had +received a mortal wound. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +AUNT MELVY AS A SOOTHSAYER + + +It was a crisp afternoon in late October. The road leading west from +Clayton ran the gantlet of fiery maples and sumac until it reached the +barren hillside below "Who'd 'a' Thought It." The little cabin clung +to the side of the steep slope like a bit of fungus to the trunk of a +tree. + +In the doorway sat three girls, one tall and dark, one plump and fair, +and the third straight and thin. They were anxiously awaiting the +revelation of the future as disclosed by Aunt Melvy's far-famed +tea-leaves. The prophetess kept them company while waiting for the +water to boil. + +"He sutenly is a peart boy," she was saying. "De jedge done start him +in plumb at de foot up at de 'cademy, an' dey tell me he's ketchin' up +right along." + +"Wasn't it g-grand in Judge Hollis to send him to school?" said +Annette. "Of course he's going to work for him b-between times. They +say even Mrs. Hollis is glad he is going to stay." + +"'Co'se she is," said Aunt Melvy; "dere nebber was nobody come it over +Miss Sue lak he done." + +"Father says he is very quick," ventured Martha Meech, a faint color +coming to her dull cheek at this unusual opportunity of descanting +upon such an absorbing subject. "Father told Judge Hollis he would +help him with his lessons, and that he thought it would be only a +little while before he was up with the other boys." + +"Dad says he's a d-dandy," cried Annette. "And isn't it grand he's +going to be put on the ball team and the glee club!" + +Ruth rose to break a branch laden with crimson maple-leaves. "Was he +ever here before?" she asked in puzzled tones. "I have seen him +somewhere, and I can't think where." + +"Well, I'd never f-forget him," said Annette. "He's got the jolliest +face I ever saw. M-Martha says he can jump that high fence b-back of +the Hollises' without touching it. I d-drove dad's buggy clear up over +the curbstone yesterday, so he would come to the r-rescue, and he +swung on to old B-Baldy's neck like he had been a race-horse." + +"But you don't know him," protested Ruth. "And, besides, he was--he +was a peddler." + +"I don't care if he was," said Annette. "And if I don't know him, it's +no sign I am not g-going to." + +Aunt Melvy chuckled as she rose to encourage the fire with a pair of +squeaking old bellows. + +Martha looked about the room curiously. "Can you really tell what's +going to happen?" she asked timidly. + +"Indeed she can," said Annette. "She told Jane Lewis that she was +g-going to have some g-good luck, and the v-very next week her aunt +died and left her a turquoise-ring!" + +"Yas, chile," said Aunt Melvy, bending over the fire to light her +pipe; "I been habin' divisions for gwine on five year. Dat's what made +me think I wuz gwine git religion; but hit ain't come yit--not yit. +I'm a mourner an' a seeker." Her pipe dropped unheeded, and she gazed +with fixed eyes out of the window. + +"Tell us about your visions," demanded Annette. + +"Well," said Aunt Melvy, "de fust I knowed about it wuz de lizards in +my legs. I could feel 'em jus' as plain as day, dese here little green +lizards a-runnin' round inside my legs. I tole de doctor 'bout hit, +Miss Nettie; but he said 't warn't nothin' but de fidgits. I knowed +better 'n he did dat time. Dat night I had a division, an' de dream +say, 'Put on yer purple mournin'-dress an' set wid yer feet in a +barrel ob b'ilin' water till de smoke comes down de chimbly.' An' so +I done, a-settin' up dere on dat chist o' drawers all night, wid my +purple mournin'-dress on an' my feet in de b'ilin' water, an' de +lizards run away so fur dat dey ain't even stopped yit." + +"Aunt Melvy, do you tell fortunes by palmistry?" asked Ruth. + +"Yas'm; I reckon dat's what you call hit. I tells by de tea-leaves. +Lor', Miss Rufe, you sutenly put me in min' o' yer grandmaw! She +kerried her haid up in de air jus' lak you do, an' she wuz jus' as +putty as you is, too. We libed in de ole plantation what's done burned +down now, an' I lubed my missus--I sutenly did. When my ole man fust +come here from de country I nebber seen sech a fool. He didn't know no +more 'bout courtin' dan nothin'; but I wuz better qualified. I jus' +tole ole miss how 't wuz, an' she fixed up de weddin'. I nebber will +fergit de day we walk ober de plantation an' say we wuz married. +George he had on a brand-new pair pants dat cost two hundred an' +sixty-four dollars in Confederate money." + +"Isn't the water b-boiling yet?" asked Annette, impatiently. + +"So 't is, so 't is," said Aunt Melvy, lifting the kettle from the +crane. She dropped a few tea-leaves in three china cups, and then with +great solemnity and occasional guttural ejaculations poured the water +over them. + +Before the last cup was filled, Annette, with a wry face, had drained +the contents of hers and held it out to Aunt Melvy. + +"There are my leaves. If they don't tell about a lover with b-blue +eyes and an Irish accent, I'll never b-believe them." + +Aunt Melvy bent over the cup, and her sides shook. "You gwine be a +farmer's wife," she said, chuckling at the girl's grimace. "You gwine +raise chickens an' chillun." + +"Ugh!" said Annette as the other girls laughed; "are his eyes b-blue?" + +Aunt Melvy pondered over the leaves. "Well, now, 'pears to me he's +sorter dark-complected an' fat, like Mr. Sid Gray," she said. + +"Never!" declared Annette. "I loathe Sid." + +"Tell my future!" cried Martha, pushing her cup forward eagerly. + +"Dey ain't none!" cried Aunt Melvy, aghast, as she saw the few broken +leaves in the bottom of the cup. "You done drinked up yer fortune. +Dat's de sign ob early death. I gwine fix you a good-luck bag; dey say +ef you carry it all de time, hit's a cross-sign ag'in' death." + +"But can't you tell me anything?" persisted Martha. + +"Dey ain't nothin' to tell," repeated Aunt Melvy, "'cep'n' to warn you +to carry dat good-luck bag all de time." + +"Now, mine," said Ruth, with an incredulous but curious smile. + +For several moments Aunt Melvy bent over the cup in deep +consideration, and then she rose and took it to the window, with +fearsome, anxious looks at Ruth meanwhile. Once or twice she made a +sign with her fingers, and frowned anxiously. + +"What is it, Aunt Melvy?" Ruth demanded. "Am I going to be an old +maid?" + +"'T ain't no time to joke, chile," whispered Aunt Melvy, all the +superstition of her race embodied in her trembling figure. "What I +see, I see. Hit's de galluses what I see in de bottom ob yer cup!" + +"Do you m-mean suspenders?" laughed Annette. + +Aunt Melvy did, not hear her; she was looking over the cup into space, +swaying and moaning. + +"To t'ink ob my ole missus' gran'chile bein' mixed up wif a gallus lak +dey hang de niggers on! But hit's dere, jus' as plain as day, de two +poles an' de cross-beam." + +Ruth laughed as she looked into the cup. + +"Is it for me?" + +"Don't know, honey; de signs don't p'int to no one person: but hit's +in yer life, an' de shadow rests ag'in' you." + +By this time Martha was at the door, urging the others to hurry. Her +face was pale and her eyes were troubled. Ruth saw her nervousness and +slipped her arm about her. "It's all in fun," she whispered. + +"Of course," said Annette. "You m-mustn't mind her foolishness. +Besides, I g-got the worst of it. I'd rather die young or be hanged, +any day, than to m-marry Sid Gray." + +Aunt Melvy followed them to the door, shaking her head. "I'se gwine +make you chillun some good-luck bags. De fust time de new moon holds +water I'se sholy gwine fix 'em. 'T ain't safe not to mind de signs; 't +ain't safe." + +And with muttered warnings she watched them until they were lost to +view behind the hill. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +TRANSITION + + +The change from the road to the school-room was not without many a +struggle on Sandy's part. The new life, the new customs, and the +strange language, were baffling. + +The day after the accident in the road, Mrs. Hollis had sent him to +inquire how old Mrs. Nelson was, and he had returned with the +astonishing report that she was sixty-one. + +"But you didn't ask her age?" cried Mrs. Hollis, horrified. + +Sandy looked perplexed. "I said what ye bid me," he declared. + +Everything he did, in fact, seemed to be wrong; and everything he +said, to bring a smile. He confided many a woe to Aunt Melvy as he +sat on the kitchen steps in the evenings. + +"Hit's de green rubbin' off," she assured him sympathetically. "De +same ones dat laugh at you now will be takin' off dey hats to you some +day." + +"Oh, it ain't the guyin' I mind," said Sandy; "it's me wooden head. +Them little shavers that can't see a hole in a ladder can beat me +figurin'." + +"You jus' keep on axin' questions," advised Aunt Melvy. "Dat's what I +always tole Rachael. Rachael's dat yaller gal up to Mrs. Nelson's. I +done raise her, an' she ain't a bit o'count. I use' ter say, 'You fool +nigger, how you ebber gwine learn nothin' effen you don't ax +questions?' An' she'd stick out her mouth an' say, 'Umph, umph; you +don't ketch me lettin' de white folks know how much sense I ain't +got.' Den she'd put on a white dress an' a white sunbonnet an' go +switchin' up de street, lookin' jus' lak a fly in a glass ob +buttermilk." + +"It's the mixed-up things that bother me," said Sandy. "Mr. Moseley +was telling of us to-day how ye lost a day out of the week when ye +went round the world one way, and gained a day when ye went round the +other." + +Aunt Melvy paused with the tea-towel in her hand. "Lost a day outen de +week? Where'd he say you lost it at?" + +Sandy shook his head in perplexity. + +"Dat's plumb foolishness," said Aunt Melvy, indignantly. "I'se +s'prised at Mr. Moseley, I sholy is. Dey sorter gits notions, dem +teachers does. When dey tells you stuff lak dat, honey, don't you pay +'em no mind." + +But Sandy did "pay 'em mind." He followed Aunt Melvy's advice about +asking questions, and wrestled with each new proposition until he +mastered it. It did not take him long, moreover, to distinguish the +difference between himself and those about him. The words and phrases +that had passed current on the street seemed to ring false here. He +watched the judge covertly and took notes. + +His progress at the academy was a singular succession of triumphs and +failures. His natural quickness, together with an enthusiastic +ambition to get on, enabled him soon to take his place among the boys +of his own age. But a superabundance of high spirits and an inordinate +love of fun caused many a dark entry on the debit side of his school +ledger. There were many times when he exasperated the judge to the +limit of endurance, for he was reckless and impulsive, charged to the +exploding-point with vitality, and ever and always the victim of his +last caprice; but when it came to the final issue, and the judge put a +question fairly before him, the boy was always on the side of right, +even though it proved him guilty. + +At first Mrs. Hollis had been strongly opposed to his remaining on the +farm, but she soon became silent on the subject. It was a heretofore +unknown luxury to have the outside work promptly and efficiently +attended to. He possessed "the easy grace that makes a joke of toil"; +and when he despatched his various chores and did even more than was +required of him, Mrs. Hollis capitulated. + +It was something more, however, than his ability and service that won +her. The affection of the world, which seemed to eddy around her, as a +rule, found an exception in Sandy. His big, exuberant nature made no +distinction: he swept over her, sharp edges and all; he teased her, +coaxed her, petted her, laughed at her, turned her tirades with a bit +of blarney, and in the end won her in spite of herself. + +"He's ketchin' on," reported Aunt Melvy, confidently. "I heared him +puttin' on airs in his talk. When dey stops talkin' nachel, den I +knows dey are learnin' somethin'." + + + + +CHAPTER X + +WATERLOO + + +It was not until three years had passed and Sandy had reached his +junior year that his real achievement was put to the test. + +After that harrowing experience in the Hollis driveway, he had seen +Ruth Nelson but twice. She had spent the winters at boarding-school, +and in the summers she traveled with her aunt. She was still the +divinity for whom he shaped his end, the compass that always brought +him back to the straight course. He looked upon her possible +recognition and friendship as a man looks upon his reward in heaven. +In the meantime he suffered himself to be consoled by less distant +joys. + +The greatest spur he had to study was Martha Meech. She thought he +was a genius; and while he found it a bit irksome to live up to his +reputation, he made an honest effort to deserve it. + +One spring afternoon the two were under the apple-trees, with their +books before them. The years that had lifted Sandy forward toward +vigor and strength and manhood had swept over Martha relentlessly, +beating out her frail strength, and leaving her weaker to combat each +incoming tide. Her straight, straw-colored hair lay smooth about her +delicate face, and in her eyes was the strained look of one who seeks +but is destined never to attain. + +"Let's go over the Latin once more," she was saying patiently, "just +to make sure you understand." + +"Devil a bit more!" cried Sandy, jumping up from where he lay in the +grass and tossing the book lightly from her hand; "it's the sin and +the shame to keep you poking in books, now the spring is here. +Martha, do you mind the sound of the wind in the tree-tops?" + +She nodded, and he went on: + +"Does it put strange words in your heart that you can't even think out +in your head? If I could be translating the wind and the river, I'd +never be minding the Latin again." + +Martha looked at him half timidly. + +"Sometimes, do you know, I almost think you are a poet, Sandy; you are +always thinking the things the poets write about." + +"Do you, now, true?" he asked seriously, dropping down on the grass +beside her. Then he laughed. "You'll be having me writing rhymes, now, +in a minute." + +"Why not?" she urged. + +"I must stick to my course," he said. "I'd never be a real one. They +work for the work's sake, and I work for the praise. If I win the +scholarship, it'll be because you want me to, Martha; if I come to be +a lawyer, it's because it's the wish of the judge's heart; and if I +win out in the end, it will be for the love of some one--some one who +cares more for that than for anything else in the world." + +She dropped her eyes, while he watched the flight of a song-bird as it +wheeled about overhead. Presently she opened an old portfolio and took +from it a little sketch. + +"I have been trying to get up courage to show it to you all week," she +said, with a deprecatory laugh. + +"It's the river," cried Sandy, "just at sundown, when the shadows are +slipping away from the bank! Martha, why didn't ye tell me? Are there +more?" + +He ransacked the portfolio, drawing out sketch after sketch and +exclaiming over each. They were crude little efforts, faulty in +drawing and in color; but the spirit was there, and Sandy had a vague +instinct for the essence of things. + +"I believe you're the real kind, Martha. They're crooked a bit, but +they've got the feel of the woods in 'em, all right. I can just hear +the water going over those stones." + +Martha's eyes glowed at the praise. For a year she had reached +forward blindly toward some outlet for her cramped, limited existence, +and suddenly a way seemed open toward the light. + +"I wanted to learn how before I showed you," she said. "I am never +going to show them to any one but you and mother and father." + +"But you must go somewhere to study," cried Sandy. "It's a great +artist you'll be some day." + +She shook her head. "It's not for me, Sandy. I'll always be like a +little beggar girl that peeps through the fence into a beautiful +garden. I know all the wonderful things are there, but I'll never get +to them." + +"But ye will," cried Sandy, hot with sympathy. "I'll be making money +some day, and I'll send ye to the finest master in the country; and +you will be getting well and strong, and we'll go--" + +Mr. Meech, shuffling up the walk toward them, interrupted. "Studying +for the examination, eh? That's right, my boy. The judge tells me +that you have a good chance to win the scholarship." + +"Did he, now?" said Sandy, with shameless pleasure; "and you, Mr. +Meech, do ye think the same?" + +"I certainly do," said Mr. Meech. "Anybody that can accomplish the +work you do at home, and hold your record at the academy, stands an +excellent chance." + +Sandy thought so, too, but he tried to be modest. "If it'll be in me, +it will come out," he said with suppressed triumph as he swung his +books across his shoulder and started home. + +Martha's eyes followed him wistfully, and she hoped for a backward +look before he turned in at the door. But he was absorbed in sailing a +broomstick across Aunt Melvy's pathway, causing her to drop her +basket and start after him in hot pursuit. + +That evening the judge glanced across the table with great +satisfaction at Sandy, who was apparently buried in his Vergil. The +boy, after all, was a student; he was justifying the money and time +that had been spent upon him; he was proving a credit to his +benefactor's judgment and to his knowledge of human nature. + +"Would ye mind telling me a word that rhymes with lance?" broke in +Sandy after an hour of absorbed concentration. + +"Pants," suggested the judge. But he woke up in the night to wonder +again what part of Vergil Sandy had been studying. + +"How about the scholarship?" he asked the next day of Mr. Moseley, the +principal of the academy. + +Mr. Moseley pursed his lips and considered the matter ponderously. He +regarded it as ill befitting an instructor of youth to dispose of any +subject in words of less than three syllables. + +"Your protégé, Judge Hollis, is an ambiguous proposition. He possesses +invention and originality, but he is sadly lacking in sustained +concentration." + +"But if he studies," persisted the judge, "you think he may win it?" + +Mr. Moseley wrinkled his brows and looked as if he were solving a +problem in Euclid. "Probably," he admitted; "but there is a most +insidious enemy with which he has to contend." + +"An enemy?" repeated the judge, anxiously. + +"My dear sir," said Mr. Moseley, sinking his voice to husky solemnity, +"the boy is stung by the tarantula of athletics!" + +It was all too true. The Ambiguous Proposition had found, soon after +reaching Clayton, that base-ball was what he had been waiting for all +his life. It was what he had been born for, what he had crossed the +ocean for, and what he would gladly have died for. + +There could have been no surer proof of his growing power of +concentration than that he kept a firm grasp on his academy work +during these trying days. It was a hand-to-hand fight with the great +mass of knowledge that had been accumulating at such a cruel rate +during the years he had spent out of school. He was making gallant +progress when a catastrophe occurred. + +The great ball game of the season, which was to be played in Lexington +between the Clayton team and the Lexington nine, was set for June 2. +And June 2 was the day which cruel fate--masked as the board of +trustees--had set for the academy examinations. Sandy was the only +member of the team who attended the academy, and upon him alone rested +the full agony of renunciation. His disappointment was so utterly +crushing that it affected the whole family. + +"Couldn't they postpone the game?" asked the judge. + +"It was the second that was the only day the Lexingtons could play," +said Sandy, in black despair. "And to think of me sitting in the +bloomin' old school-room while Sid Gray loses the game in me place!" + +For a week before the great event he lived in retirement. The one +topic of conversation in town was the ball game, and he found the +strain too great to be borne. The team was to go to Lexington on the +noon train with a mighty company of loyal followers. Every boy and +girl who could meet the modest expenses was going, save the +unfortunate victims of the junior class at the academy. Annette Fenton +had even had a dress made in the Clayton colors. + +As Sandy went into town on the important day, his heart was like a +rock in his breast. There was glorious sunshine everywhere, and a cool +little undercurrent of breezes stirred every leaf into a tiny banner +of victory. Up in the square, Johnson's colored band was having a +final rehearsal, while on the court-house steps the team, glorious in +new uniforms, were excitedly discussing the plan of campaign. Little +boys shouted, and old boys left their stores to come out and give a +bit of advice or encouragement to the waiting warriors. Maidens in +crisp lawn dresses and flying ribbons fluttered about in a tremor of +anticipation. + +Sandy Kilday, with his cap pulled over his eyes, went up Back street. +If he could not make the devil get behind him, he at least could get +behind the devil. Without a moment's hesitation he would have given +ten years of sober middle-age life for that one glorious day of youth +on the Lexington diamond, with the victory to be fought for, and the +grand stand to be won. + +He tried not to keep step with the music--he even tried to think of +quadratic equations--as he marched heroically on to the academy. His +was the face of a Christian martyr relinquishing life for a good but +hopeless cause. + +Late that afternoon Judge Hollis left his office and walked around to +the academy. He had sympathized fully with Sandy, and wanted, if +possible, to find out the result of the examination before going home. +The report of the scholarship won would reconcile him to his +disappointment. + +At the academy gate he met Mr. Moseley, who greeted him with a queer +smile. They both asked the same question: + +"Where's Sandy?" + +As if in answer, there came a mighty shout from the street leading +down to the depot. Turning, they saw a cheering, hilarious crowd; +bright-flowered hats flashed among college caps, while shrill girlish +voices rang out with the manly ones. Carried high in the air on the +shoulders of a dozen boys, radiant with praise and success, sat the +delinquent Sandy, and the tumult below resolved itself into one mighty +cheer: + + "Kilday, Kilday! + Won the day. + Hooray!" + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +"THE LIGHT THAT LIES" + + +During the summer Sandy worked faithfully to make amends for his +failure to win the scholarship. He had meekly accepted the torrent of +abuse which Mrs. Hollis poured forth, and the open disapproval shown +by the Meeches; he had winced under Martha's unspoken reproaches, and +groaned over the judge's quiet disappointment. + +"You see, my boy," the judge said one day when they were alone, "I had +set my heart on taking you into the office after next year. I had +counted on the scholarship to put you through your last year at the +academy." + +"It was the fool I was," cried Sandy, in deep contrition, "but if +ye'll trust me the one time more, may I die in me traces if I ever +stir out of them!" + +So sincere was his desire to make amends that he asked to read law +with the judge in the evenings after his work was done. Nothing could +have pleased the judge more; he sat with his back to the lamp and his +feet on the window-sill, expounding polemics to his heart's desire. + +Sandy sat in the shadow and whittled. Sometimes he did not listen at +all, but when he did, it was with an intensity of attention, an utter +absorption in the subject, that carried him straight to the heart of +the matter. Meanwhile he was unconsciously receiving a life-imprint of +the old judge's native nobility. + +From the first summer Sandy had held a good position at the +post-office. His first earnings had gone to a round little surgeon on +board the steamship _America_. But since then his funds had run rather +low. What he did not lend he contributed, and the result was a chronic +state of bankruptcy. + +"You must be careful with your earnings," the judge warned. "It is +not easy to live within an income." + +"Easier within it than without it, sir," Sandy answered from deep +experience. + +After the Lexington episode Sandy had shunned Martha somewhat; when he +did go to see her, he found she was sick in bed. + +"She never was strong," said Mrs. Meech, sitting limp and disconsolate +on the porch. "Mr. Meech and I never thought to keep her this long. +The doctor says it's the beginning of the end. She's so patient it's +enough to break your heart." + +Sandy went without his dinner that day, and tramped to town and back, +in the glare of the noon sun, to get her a basket of fruit. Then he +wrote her a letter so full of affection and sympathy that it brought +the tears to his own eyes as he wrote. He took the basket with the +note and left them at her door, after which he promptly forgot all +about her. For his whole purpose in life these days, aside from +assisting the government in the distribution of mail and reading a +musty old volume of Blackstone, was learning to dance. + +In ten days was the opening of the county fair, and Sandy had received +an invitation to be present at the fair hop, which was the social +excitement of the season. It was to be his introduction into society, +and he was determined to acquit himself with credit. + +He assiduously practised the two-step in the back room of the +post-office when the other clerk was out for lunch; he tried elaborate +and ornate bows upon Aunt Melvy, who considered even the mildest "reel +chune" a direct communication from the devil. The moment the +post-office closed he hastened to Dr. Fenton's, where Annette was +taking him through a course of private lessons. + +Dr. Fenton's house was situated immediately upon the street. Opening +the door, one passed into a small square hall where the Confederate +flag hung above a life-size portrait of General Lee. On every side +were old muskets and rusty swords, large pictures of decisive +battles, and maps of the siege of Vicksburg and the battle of Bull +Run. In the midst of this warlike atmosphere sat the unreconstructed +little doctor, wearing his gray uniform and his gray felt hat, which +he removed only when he ate and slept. + +Here he ostensibly held office hours, but in reality he was doing +sentry duty. His real business in life was keeping up with Annette, +and his diversion was in the constant perusal of a slim sheet known as +"The Confederate Veteran." + +It was Sandy's privilege to pass the lines unchallenged. In fact, the +doctor's strict surveillance diminished, and he was occasionally +guilty of napping at the post when Sandy was with Annette. + +"Come in, come in," he said one day. "Just looking over the 'Veteran.' +Ever hear of Sam Davis? Greatest hero South ever knew! That's his +picture. Wasn't afraid of any damned Yankee that ever pulled a +trigger." + +"Was he a rebel?" asked the unfortunate Sandy. + +The doctor swelled with indignation. "He was a Confederate, sir! I +never knew a rebel." + +"It was the Confederates that wore the gray?" asked Sandy, trying to +cover his blunder. + +"They did," said the doctor. "I put it on at nineteen, and I'll be +buried in it. Yes, sir; and my hat. Wouldn't wear blue for a farm. +Hate the sight of it so, that I might shoot myself by mistake. Ever +look over these maps? This was the battle of--" + +A door opened and a light head was thrust out. + +"Now, d-dad, you hush this minute! You've told him that over and over. +Sandy's my company. Come in here, Sandy." + +A few moments later there was a moving of chairs, and Annette's voice +was counting, "One, two, three; one, two, three," while Sandy went +through violent contortions in his efforts to waltz. He had his +tongue firmly between his teeth and his eyes fixed on vacancy as he +revolved in furniture--destroying circles about the small parlor. + +"That isn't right," cried Annette. "You've lost the time. You d-dance +with the chair, Sandy, and I'll p-play the p-piano." + +"No, you don't!" he cried. "I'll dance with you and put the chair at +the piano, but I'll dance with no chair." + +Annette sank, laughing and exhausted, upon the sofa and looked up at +him hopelessly. Her hair had tumbled down, making her look more like a +child than ever. + +"You are so b-big," she said; "and you've got so m-many feet!" + +"The more of me to love ye." + +"I wonder if you d-do?" She put her chin on her palms, looking at him +sidewise. + +"Don't ye do that again!" he cried. "Haven't I passed ye the warning +never to look at me when you fix your mouth like that?" + +She tried to call him a goose, though she knew that _g_'s were fatal. + +A moment later she sat at one end of the sofa in pretended dudgeon, +while Sandy tried to make his peace from the other. + +"May the lightning strike me dead if I ever do it again without the +asking! I'll be good now--honest to goodness, Nettie. I'll shut me +eyes when you take the hurdles, and be blind to temptation. Won't ye +be putting me on about the hop now, and what I must do?" + +Annette counted her fraternity pins and tried to look severe. She used +them in lieu of scalps, and they encircled her neck, fastened her +belt, and on state occasions even adorned her shoe-buckles. + +"Well," she at last said, "to b-begin with, you must be nice to +everyb-body. You mustn't sit out more than one d-dance with one +g-girl, and you must b-break in on every dance I'm not sitting out." + +"Break in? Sit out?" repeated Sandy, realizing that the intricacies +of society are manifold. + +"Of course," said his mentor. "Whenever you see the g-girl you like +dancing with any one else, you just p-put your hand on the man's +shoulder, and then she d-dances with you." + +"And will they all stop for me?" cried Sandy, not understanding at all +why he should have the preference. + +"Surely," said Annette. "And sitting out is when you like a girl so +m-much that you would rather take her away to some quiet little corner +and talk to her than to d-dance with her." + +"That'll never be me," cried Sandy--"not while the band plays." + +"Shall we try it again?" she asked; and with much scoffing and +scolding on her part, and eloquent apologies and violent exertion on +his, they struggled onward toward success. + +In the midst of the lesson there was a low whistle at the side +window. Annette dropped Sandy's hands and put her finger to her lips. + +"It's Carter," she whispered. "D-dad doesn't allow him to come here." + +"Little's the wonder," grumbled Sandy. + +Annette's eyes were sparkling at the prospect of forbidden fruit. She +tiptoed to the window and opened the shutter a few inches. + +At the opening Carter's face appeared. It was a pale, delicate face, +over-sensitive, over-refined, with the stamp of weakness on every +feature. His restless, nervous eyes were slightly bloodshot, and there +was a constant twitching about his lips. But as he pushed back the +shutter and leaned carelessly against the sill, there was an easy +grace in his figure and a devil-may-care light in his eyes that would +have stirred the heart of a maiden less susceptible than the one who +smiled upon him from between the muslin curtains. + +He laughed lightly as he caught at a flying lock of her hair. + +"You little coward! Why didn't you meet me?" + +She frowned significantly and made warning gestures toward the +interior of the room. + +At the far window, standing with his back to them, was Mr. Sandy +Kilday. He was engaged in a fierce encounter with an unnamed monster +whose eyes were green. During his pauses for breath he composed a few +comprehensive and scathing remarks which he intended to bestow upon +Miss Fenton at his earliest convenience. Fickleness was a thing not to +be tolerated. She had confessed her preference for him over all +others; she must and should prove it. Just when his indignation had +reached the exploding-point, he heard his name called. + +"Sandy," cried Annette, "what do you think? Ruth is coming home! +Carter is on his way to the d-depot to meet her now. She's been gone +nearly a year. I never was so crazy to see anyb-body in all my life." + +Sandy wheeled about. "Which depot?" he cried excitedly; and without +apologies or farewell he dashed out of the house and down the street. + +When the Pullman train came into the Clayton station, he was leaning +against a truck in a pose of studied indifference. Out of the tail of +his eye he watched the passengers alight. + +There were the usual fat women and thin men, tired women with +children, and old women with baskets, but no sign of a small girl with +curls hanging down her back and dresses to her shoe-tops. + +Suddenly he caught his breath. Standing in the car door, like a saint +in a niche, was a radiant figure in a blue traveling-suit, with a bit +of blue veil floating airily from her hat brim. She was not the little +girl he was looking for, but he transferred his devotion at a bound; +for long skirts and tucked-up curls rendered her tenfold more +worshipful than before. + +He watched her descend from her pedestal, bestow an affectionate kiss +upon her brother, then look eagerly around for other familiar faces. +In one heart-suspending instant her eyes met his, she hesitated in +confusion, then blushed and bowed. + +Sandy reeled home in utter intoxication of spirit. Even the town pump +wore a halo of glorified rosy mist. + +At the gate he met Mrs. Hollis returning from a funeral. With a sudden +descent from his ethereal mood he pounced upon her and, in spite of +violent protestations, danced her madly down the walk and deposited +her breathless upon the milk-bench. + +"He's getting worse all the time," she complained to Aunt Melvy, who +had watched the performance with great glee. + +"Yas,'m," said Aunt Melvy, with a fond look at his retreating figure. +"He's jus' like a' Irish potato: when he ain't powerful cold, he's +powerful hot." + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +ANTICIPATION + + +The day before the fair Sandy employed a substitute at the +post-office, in order to give the entire day to preparation for the +festivities to come. + +Early in the morning he went to town, where, after much consultation +and many changes of mind, he purchased a suit of clothes. Then he +rented the town dress-suit, to the chagrin of three other boys who had +each counted upon it for the coming hop. + +With the precious burden under his arm, Sandy hastened home. He spread +the two coats on the bed, placing a white shirt inside each, and a +necktie about each collar. Then he stood back and admired. + +"It's meself I can see in them both this minute!" he exclaimed with +delight. + +His shoes were polished until they were resplendent, but they lost +much of their glory during subsequent practising of steps before the +mirror. He even brushed and cleaned his old clothes, for he foresaw +the pain of laying aside the raiment of Solomon for dingy every-day +garments. + +Toward noon he went down-stairs to continue his zealous efforts in the +kitchen. This met with Aunt Melvy's instant disapproval. + +"For mercy sake, git out ob my way!" she cried, as she squeezed past +the ironing-board to get to the stove. "I'll press yer pants, ef +you'll jus' take yourself outen de kitchen. Be sure don't burn 'em? +Look a-heah, chile; I was pressin' pants 'fore yer paw was wearin' +'em!" + +Aunt Melvy's temper was a thing not to be trifled with when a +"protracted meeting" was in session. For years she had been the black +sheep in the spiritual fold. Her earnest desire to get religion and +the untiring efforts of the exhorters had alike proved futile. Year +after year she sat on the mourners' bench, seeking the light and +failing each time to "come th'u'." + +This discouraging condition of affairs sorely afflicted her, and +produced a kind of equinoctial agitation in the Hollis kitchen. + +Sandy went on into the dining-room, but he found no welcome there. +Mrs. Hollis was submerged in pastry. The county fair was her one +dissipation, and her highest ambition was to take premiums. Every year +she sent forth battalions of cakes, pies, sweet pickles, beaten +biscuit, crocheted doilies, and crazy-quilts to capture the blue +ribbon. + +"Don't put the window up!" she warned Sandy. "I know it's stifling, +but I can't have the dust coming in. Why don't you go on in the +house?" + +Mrs. Hollis always spoke of the kitchen and dining-room as if they +were not a part of the house. + +"Can't ye tell me something that's good for the sunburn?" asked +Sandy, anxiously. "It's a dressed-up shooting-cracker I'll be +resembling the morrow, in spite of me fine clothes." + +"Buttermilk and lemon-juice," recommended Mrs. Hollis, as she placed +the last marshmallow on the roof of a four-story cake. + +Sandy would have endured any discomfort that day in order to add one +charm to his personal appearance. He used so many lemons there were +none left for the judge's lemonade when he came home for dinner. + +"Just home from the post-office?" he asked when he saw Sandy enter the +dining-room with his hat on. + +"Jimmy Reed's doing my work to-day," Sandy said apologetically. "And +if you please, sir, I'll be keeping my hat on. I have just washed my +hair, and I want it to dry straight." + +The judge looked at the suspicious turn of the thick locks around the +brim of the stiff hat and smiled. + +"Vanitas vanitatum, et omnia vanitas," he quoted. "How many pages of +Blackstone to-day?" + +Sandy made a wry face and winked at Mrs. Hollis, but she betrayed him. + +"He has been primping since sun-up," she said. "Anybody would think he +was going to get married." + +"Sweet good luck if I was!" cried Sandy, gaily. + +The judge put down his fork and laid his hand on Sandy's arm. "You +mustn't neglect the learning, Sandy. You've made fine progress, and +I'm proud of you. You've worked your way this far; I'll help you to +the top if you'll keep a steady head." + +"That I'll do," cried Sandy, grasping his hand. "It's old Moseley's +promise I have for steady work at the academy. If I can't climb the +ladder, with you at one end and success at the other, then I'm not +much of a chicken--I mean I'm not much." + +"Well, you better begin by leaving the girls alone," said Mrs. Hollis +as she moved the sugar out of his reach. "Just let one drive by the +gate, and we don't have any peace until you know who it is." + +"By the way," said the judge, as he helped himself to a corn-dodger +and two kinds of preserves, "I'm sorry to see the friendship that's +sprung up between Annette Fenton and young Nelson. I don't know what +the doctor's thinking about to let it go on. Nelson is hitting a +pretty lively pace for a youngster. He'll never live to reap his wild +oats, though. He came into the world with consumption, and I don't +think he will be long getting out of it. He's always getting into +difficulty. I have had to fine him twice in the past month for +gambling. Do you see anything of him, Sandy?" + +"No," said Sandy, biting his lip. His pride had suffered more than +once at Carter's condescension. + +"Martha Meech must be worse," said Mrs. Hollis. "The up-stairs blinds +have been closed all day." + +Sandy pushed back the apple-dumpling which Aunt Melvy had made at his +special request. + +"Perhaps I can be helping them," he said as he rose from the table. + +When he came back he sat for a long time with his head on his hand. + +"Is she much worse?" asked Mrs. Hollis. + +"Yes," said Sandy; "and it's little that I can do, though she's +coughing her life away. It's a shame--and a shame!" he cried in hot +rebellion. + +All his vanity of the morning was dispelled by the tragedy taking +place next door. He paced back and forth between the two houses, +begging to be allowed to help, and proposing all sorts of impossible +things. + +When inaction became intolerable, he plunged into his law books, at +first not comprehending a line, but gradually becoming more and more +interested, until at last the whole universe seemed to revolve about a +case that was decided in a previous century. + +When he rose it was almost dusk, and he came back to the present +world with a start. His first thought was of Ruth and the rapturous +prospect of seeing her on the morrow; a swift doubt followed as to +whether a white tie or a black one was proper; then a sudden fear that +he had forgotten how to dance. He jumped to his feet, took a couple of +steps--when he remembered Martha. + +The house seemed suddenly quiet and lonesome. He went from the +sitting-room to the kitchen, but neither Mrs. Hollis nor Aunt Melvy +was to be found. Returning through the front hall, he opened the door +to the parlor. + +The sight that met him was somewhat gruesome. Everything was carefully +wrapped in newspapers. Pictures enveloped in newspapers hung on the +walls, newspaper chairs stood primly around a newspaper table. In the +dim twilight it looked like the very ghost of a room. + +Sandy threw open the window, and going over to the newspaper piano, +untied the wrappings. He softly touched the keys and began to sing in +an undertone. Old Irish love-songs, asleep in his heart since they +were first dropped there by the merry mother lips, stirred and awoke. +The accompaniment limped along lamely enough; but the singer, with hat +over his eyes and lemon-juice on his nose, sang on as only a poet and +lover can. His rich, full voice lingered on the soft Celtic syllables, +dwelt tenderly on the diminutive endearments, while his heart, +overcharged with sorrow and joy and romance and dreams, spilled over +in an ecstasy of song. + +Next door, in an upper bedroom, a tired soul paused in its final +flight. Martha Meech, stretching forth her thin arms in the twilight, +listened as one might listen to the strains of an angel choir. + +"It's Sandy," she said, and the color came to her cheeks, the light to +her eyes. For, like Sandy, she had youth and she had love, and life +itself could give no more. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +THE COUNTY FAIR + + +The big amphitheater at the fair grounds was filled as completely and +evenly as a new paper of pins. Through the air floated that sweetest +of all music to the childish ear--the unceasing wail of expiring +balloons; and childish souls were held together in one sticky ecstasy +of molasses candy and pop-corn balls. + +Behind the highest row of seats was a promenade, and in front of the +lowest was another. Around these circled a procession which, though +constantly varying, held certain recurring figures like the charging +steeds on a merry-go-round. There was Dr. Fenton, in his tight +Confederate suit; he had been circling in that same procession at +every fair for twenty years. There was the judge, lank of limb and +loose of joint, who stopped to shake hands with all the strangers and +invite them to take dinner in his booth, where Mrs. Hollis reveled in +a riot of pastry. A little behind him strutted Mr. Moseley, sending +search-lights of scrutiny over the crowd in order to discover the +academy boys who might be wasting their time upon unlettered +femininity. + +At one side of the amphitheater, raised to a place of honor, was the +courting-box. Here the aristocratic youth of the country-side met to +measure hearts, laugh at the rustics, and enjoy the races. + +In previous years Sandy had watched the courting-box from below, but +this year he was in the center of it. Jests and greetings from the +boys, and cordial glances from maidens both known and unknown, bade +him welcome. But, in spite of his reception, and in spite of his +irreproachable toilet, he was not having a good time. With hands in +pockets and a scowl on his face, he stared gloomily over the crowd. +Twice a kernel of pop-corn struck his ear, but he did not turn. + +Above him, Annette Fenton was fathoms deep in a flirtation with Carter +Nelson; while below him, Ruth, in the daintiest of gowns and the +largest of hats, was wasting her sweetness on the desert countenance +of Sid Gray. + +Sandy refused to seek consolation elsewhere; he sat like a Spartan +hero, and calmly watched his heart being consumed in the flames. + +This hour, for which he had been living, this longed-for opportunity +of being near Ruth and possibly of speaking to her, was slipping away, +and she did not even know he was there. + +He became fiercely critical of Sid Gray. He rejoiced in his stoutness +and took grim pleasure in the fact that his necktie had slipped up at +the back. He looked at his hand as it rested on the back of the seat; +it was plump and white. Sandy held out his own broad, muscular palm, +hardened and roughened by work. Then he put it in his pocket again and +sighed. + +The afternoon wore gaily on. Louder grew the chorus of balloons and +stickier grew the pop-corn balls. The courting-box was humming with +laughter and jest. The Spartan hero began to rebel. Why should he +allow himself to be tortured thus when there might be a way of escape? +He recklessly resolved to put his fate to the test. Rising abruptly, +he went down to the promenade and passed slowly along the +courting-box, scanning the occupants as if in search of some one. It +was on his fourth round that she saw him, and the electric shock +almost lost him his opportunity. He looked twice to make sure she had +spoken; then, with a bit of his heart in his throat and the rest in +his eyes, he went up the steps and awkwardly held out his hand. + +The world made several convulsive circuits in its orbit and the bass +drum performed a solo inside his head during the moment that +followed. When the tumult subsided he found a pair of bright brown +eyes smiling up at him and a small hand clasped in his. + +This idyllic condition was interrupted by a disturbance on the +promenade, which caused them both to look in that direction. Some one +was pushing roughly through the crowd. + +"Hi, there, Kilday! Sandy Kilday!" + +A heavy-set fellow was making his way noisily toward them. His suit of +broad checks, his tan shoes, and his large diamond stud were +strangers, but his little close-set eyes, protruding teeth, and bushy +hair were hatefully familiar. + +Sandy started forward, and those nearest laughed when the stranger +looked at him and said: + +"My guns! Git on to his togs! Ain't he a duke!" + +Sandy got Ricks out of the firing-line, around the corner of the +courting-box. His face was crimson with mortification, but it never +occurred to him to be angry. + +"What brought you back?" he asked huskily. + +"Hosses." + +"Are you going to drive this afternoon?" + +"Yep. One of young Nelson's colts in the last ring. Say," he added, +"he's game, all right. Me and him have done biz before. Know him?" + +"Carter Nelson? Oh, yes; I know him," said Sandy, impatient to be rid +of his companion. + +"Me and him are a winnin' couple," said Ricks. "We plays the races +straight along. He puts up the dough, and I puts up the tips. Say, +he's one of these here tony toughs; he won't let on he knows me when +he's puttin' on dog. What about you, Sandy? Makin' good these days?" + +"I guess so," said Sandy, indifferently. + +"You ain't goin' to school yet?" + +"That I am," said Sandy; "and next year, too, if the money holds out." + +"Golly gosh!" said Ricks, incredulously. "Well, I got to be hikin' +back. The next is my entry. I'll look you up after while. So-long!" + +He shambled off, and Sandy watched his broad-checked back until it was +lost in the crowd. + +That Ricks should have turned up at that critical moment seemed a +wilful prank on the part of fate. Sandy bit his lip and raged +inwardly. He had a wild impulse to rush back to Ruth, seize her hand, +and begin where he had left off. He might have done it, too, had not +the promenade happened to land Dr. Fenton before him at that moment. + +The doctor was behaving in a most extraordinary and unmilitary way. He +had stepped out of the ranks, and was performing strange manoeuvers +about a knothole that looked into the courting-box. When he saw Sandy +he opened fire. + +"Look at her! Look at her!" he whispered. "Whenever I pass she talks +to Jimmy Reed on this side; but the moment she thinks I'm not looking, +sir, she talks to Nelson on the other! Kilday," he went on, shaking +his finger impressively, "that little girl is as slick as--a blame +Yankee! But she'll not outwit me. I'm going right up there and take +her home." + +Sandy laughingly held his arm. It was not the first time the doctor +had confided in him. "No, no, doctor," he said; "I'll be the watch-dog +for ye. Let me go and stay with Annette, and if Carter Nelson gets a +word in her ear, it'll be because I've forgotten how to talk." + +"Will you?" asked the doctor, anxiously. "Nelson's a drunkard. I'd +rather see my little girl dead than married to him. But she's wilful, +Kilday; when she was just a baby she'd sit with her little pink toes +curled up for an hour to keep me from putting on her shoes when she +wanted to go barefoot! She's a fighter," he added, with a gruff +chuckle that ended in a sigh, "but she's all I've got." + +Sandy gripped him by the hand, then turned the corner into the +courting-box. Instantly his eager eyes sought Ruth, but she did not +look up as he passed. + +He unceremoniously took his seat beside Annette, to the indignation of +little Jimmy Reed. It was hard to accept Carter's patronizing +tolerance, but a certain curve to his eyebrows and the turn of his +head served as perpetual reminders of Ruth. + +Annette greeted Sandy effusively. She had found Jimmy entirely too +limber a foil to use with any degree of skill, and she knew from past +experience that Sandy and Carter were much better matched. If Sid Gray +had been there also, she would have been quite happy. In Annette's +estimation it was all a mistake about love being a game for two. + +"Who was your stylish friend?" she asked Sandy. + +"Ricks Wilson," said Sandy, shortly. + +Carter smiled condescendingly. "Your old business partner, I believe?" + +"Before he was yours," said Sandy. + +This was not at all to Annette's taste. They were not even thinking +about her. + +"How m-many dances do you want for to-night?" she asked Sandy. + +"The first four." + +She wrote them on the corner of her fan. "Yes?" + +"The last four." + +"Yes?" + +"And the four in between. What's that on your fan?" + +"Nothing." + +"But it is. Let me see." + +"Will you look at it easy and not tell?" she whispered, taking +advantage of Carter's sudden interest in the judges' stand. + +"Sure and I will. Just a peep. Come!" + +She opened the fan half-way, and disclosed a tiny picture of himself +sewed on one of the slats. + +"And it's meself that you care for, Annette!" he whispered. "I knew +it, you rascal, you rogue!" + +"Let g-go my hand," she whispered, half laughing, half scolding. +"Look, Carter, what I have on my fan!" and, to Sandy's chagrin, she +opened the fan on the reverse side and disclosed a picture of Nelson. + +But Carter had neither eyes nor ears for her now. His whole attention +was centered on the ring, where the most important event of the day +was about to take place. + +It was a trial of two-year-olds for speed and durability. There were +four entries--two bays, a sorrel, and Carter's own little thoroughbred +"Nettie." He watched her as she pranced around the ring under Ricks's +skilful handling; she had nothing to fear from the bays, but the +sorrel was a close competitor. + +"Oh, this is your race, isn't it?" cried Annette as the band struck up +"Dixie." "Where's my namesake? The pretty one just c-coming, with the +ugly driver? Why, he's Sandy's friend, isn't he?" + +Sandy winced under her teasing, but he held his peace. + +The first heat Nettie won; the second, the sorrel; the third brought +the grand stand to its feet. Even the revolving procession halted +breathless. + +"Now they're off!" cried Annette, excitedly. "Mercy, how they g-go! +Nettie is a little ahead; look, Sandy! She's gaining! No; the sorrel's +ahead. Carter, your driver is g-going too close! He's g-going to smash +in--Oh, look!" + +There was a crash of wheels and a great commotion. Several women +screamed, and a number of men rushed into the ring. When Sandy got +there, the greater crowd was not around the sorrel's driver, who lay +in a heap against the railing with a broken leg and a bruised head; it +was around Ricks Wilson in angry protest and indignation. + +The most vehement of them all was Judge Hollis,--the big, easy-going +judge,--whose passion, once roused, was a thing to be reckoned with. + +"It was a dastardly piece of cowardice," he cried. "You all saw what +he did! Call the sheriff, there! I intend to prosecute him to the full +extent of the law." + +Ricks, with snapping eyes and snarling mouth, glanced anxiously +around at the angry faces. He was looking for Carter Nelson, but +Carter had discreetly departed. It was Sandy whom he spied, and +instantly called: "Kilday, you'll see me through this mess? You know +it wasn't none of my fault." + +Sandy pushed his way to the judge's side. He had never hated the sight +of Ricks so much as at that moment. + +"It's Ricks Wilson," he whispered to the judge--"the boy I used to +peddle with. Don't be sending him to jail, sir. I'll--I'll go his bail +if you'll be letting him go." + +"Indeed you won't!" thundered the judge. "You to take money you've +saved for your education to help this scoundrel, this rascal, this +half murderer!" + +The crowd shouted its approval as it opened for the sheriff. Ricks was +not the kind to make it easy for his captors, and a lively skirmish +ensued. + +As he was led away he turned to the crowd back of him and shook his +fist in the judge's face. + +"You done this," he cried. "I'll git even with you, if I go to hell +fer it!" + +The judge laughed contemptuously, but Sandy watched Ricks depart with +troubled eyes. He knew that he meant what he said. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +A COUNCIL OF WAR + + +While the frivolous-minded of Clayton were bent upon the festivities +of fair week, it must not be imagined that the grave and thoughtful +contingent, which acts as ballast in every community, was idle. + +Mr. Moseley was a self-constituted leader in a crusade against +dancing. At his earnest suggestion, every minister in town agreed to +preach upon the subject at prayer-meeting the Wednesday evening of the +hop. + +They held a preliminary meeting before services in the study of the +Hard-Shell Baptist Church. Mr. Moseley occupied the chair, a Jove of +righteousness dispensing thunderbolts of indignation to his +satellites. A fringe of scant hair retreated respectfully from the +unadorned dome which crowned his personal edifice. His manner was most +serious and his every utterance freighted with importance. + +Beside him sat his rival in municipal authority, the Methodist +preacher. He had a short upper lip and a square lower jaw, and a way +of glaring out of his convex glasses that gave a comical imitation of +a bullfrog in debate. This was the first occasion in the history of +the town when he and Mr. Moseley had met in friendly concord. For the +last few days the united war upon a common enemy had knitted their +souls in a bond of brotherly affection. + +When the half-dozen preachers had assembled, Mr. Moseley rose with +dignity. "My dear brethren," he began impressively, "the occasion is +one which permits of no trifling. The dancing evil is one which has +menaced our community for generations--a viper to be seized and +throttled with a firm hand. The waltz, the--the Highland fling, +the--the--" + +"German?" suggested some one faintly. + +"Yes, the german--are all invasions of the Evil One. The crowded +rooms, the unholy excitement, are degenerating and debasing. I am glad +to report one young soul who has turned from temptation and told me +only to-day of his intention of refraining from partaking in the +unrighteous amusement of this evening. That, brethren, was the nephew +of my pastor." + +The little Presbyterian preacher, thus thrust into the light cast from +the halo of his regenerate nephew, stirred uneasily. He was +contemplating the expediency of his youthful kinsman in making the +lack of a dress-suit serve as a means of lightening his coming +examinations at the academy. + +Mr. Moseley, now fully launched upon a flood of eloquence, was just +concluding a brilliant argument. "Look at the round dance!" he cried. +"Who can behold and not shudder?" + +Mr. Meech, who had not beheld and therefore could not shudder, +ventured a timid inquiry: + +"Mr. Moseley, just what is a round dance?" + +Mr. Moseley pushed back his chair and wheeled the table nearer the +window. "Will you just step forward, Mr. Meech?" + +With difficulty Mr. Meech extricated himself from the corner to which +the pressure of so many guests had relegated him. He slipped +apologetically to the front and took his stand beneath the shadow of +Mr. Moseley's presence. Prayer-meeting being but a semi-official +occasion, he wore his second-best coat, and it had followed the +shrinking habit established by its predecessors. + +"Now," commanded Mr. Moseley, "place your hand upon my shoulder." + +Mr. Meech did so with self-conscious gravity and serious apprehensions +as to the revelations to follow. + +"Now," continued Mr. Moseley, "I place my arm about your waist--thus." + +"Surely not," objected Mr. Meech, in embarrassment. + +But Mr. Moseley was relentless. "I assure you it is true. And the +other hand--" He stopped in grave deliberation. The Methodist brother, +who had been growing more and more overcharged with suppressed +knowledge, could contain himself no longer. + +"That's not right at all!" he burst forth irritably. "You don't hook +your arm around like that! You hold the left arm out and saw it up and +down--like this." + +He snatched the bewildered Mr. Meech from Mr. Moseley's embrace, and +humming a waltz, stepped briskly about the limited space, to the +consternation of the onlookers, who hastened to tuck their feet under +their chairs. + +Mr. Meech, looking as if he were being backed into eternity, stumbled +on the rug and clutched violently at the table-cover. In his downfall +he carried his instructor with him, and a deluge of tracts from the +table above followed. + +In the midst of the confusion there was a sound from the church next +door. Mr. Meech sat up among the debris and listened. It was the +opening hymn for prayer-meeting. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +HELL AND HEAVEN + + +The events of the afternoon, stirring as they had been, were soon +dismissed from Sandy's mind. The approaching hop possessed right of +way over every other thought. + +By the combined assistance of Mrs. Hollis and Aunt Melvy, he had been +ready at half-past seven. The dance did not begin until nine; but he +was to take Annette, and the doctor, whose habits were as fixed as the +numbers on a clock, had insisted that she should attend prayer-meeting +as usual before the dance. + +In the little Hard-Shell Baptist Church the congregation had assembled +and services had begun before Mr. Meech arrived. He appeared +singularly flushed and breathless, and caused some confusion by +giving out the hymn which had just been sung. It was not until he +became stirred by the power of his theme that he gained composure. + +In the front seat Dr. Fenton drowsed through the discourse. Next to +him, her party dress and slipper-bag concealed by a rain-coat, sat +Annette, hot and rebellious, and in anything but a prayerful frame of +mind. Beside her sat Sandy, rigid with elegance, his eyes riveted on +the preacher, but his thoughts on his feet. For, stationary though he +was, he was really giving himself the benefit of a final rehearsal, +and mentally performing steps of intricate and marvelous variety. + +"Stop moving your feet!" whispered Annette. "You'll step on my dress." + +"Is it the mazurka that's got the hiccoughs in the middle?" asked +Sandy, anxiously. + +Mr. Meech paused and looked at them over his spectacles in plaintive +reproach. + +Then he wandered on into sixthlies and seventhlies of increasing +length. Before the final amen had died upon the air, Annette and Sandy +had escaped to their reward. + +The hop was given in the town hall, a large, dreary-looking room with +a raised platform at one end, where Johnson's band introduced +instruments and notes that had never met before. + +To Sandy it was a hall of Olympus, where filmy-robed goddesses moved +to the music of the spheres. + +"Isn't the floor g-grand?" cried Annette, with a little run and a +slide. "I could just d-die dancing." + +"What may the chalk line be for?" asked Sandy. + +"That's to keep the stags b-back." + +"The stags?" His spirits fell before this new complication. + +"Yes; the boys without partners, you know. They have to stay b-back of +the chalk line and b-break in from there. You'll catch on right away. +There's your d-dressing-room over there. Don't bother about my card; +it's been filled a week. Is there anyb-body you want to dance with +especially?" + +Sandy's eyes answered for him. They were held by a vision in the +center of the room, and he was blinded to everything else. + +Half surrounded by a little group stood Ruth Nelson, red-lipped, +bright-eyed, eager, her slender white-clad figure on tiptoe with +buoyant expectancy. The crimson rose caught in her hair kept impatient +time to the tap of her restless high-heeled slipper, and she swayed +and sang with the music in a way to set the sea-waves dancing. + +It was small matter to Sandy that the lace on her dress had belonged +to her great-grandmother, or that the pearls about her round white +throat had been worn by an ancestor who was lady in waiting to a queen +of France. He only knew she meant everything beautiful in the world to +him,--music and springtime and dawn,--and that when she smiled it was +sunlight in his heart. + +"I don't think you can g-get a dance there," said Annette, following +his gaze. "She is always engaged ahead. But I'll find out, if you +w-want me to." + +"Would you, now?" cried Sandy, fervently pressing her hand. Then he +stopped short. "Annette," he said wistfully, "do you think she'll be +caring to dance with a boy like me?" + +"Of course she will, if you k-keep off her toes and don't forget to +count the time. Hurry and g-get off your things; I want you to try it +before the crowd comes. There are only a few couples for you to bump +into now, and there will be a hundred after a while." + +O the fine rapture of that first moment when Sandy found he could +dance! Annette knocked away his remaining doubts and fears and boldly +launched him into the merry whirl. The first rush was breathless, +carrying all before it; but after a moment's awful uncertainty he +settled into the step and glided away over the shining floor, +counting his knots to be sure, but sailing triumphantly forward +behind the flutter of Annette's pink ribbons. + +He was introduced right and left, and he asked every girl he met to +dance. It made little difference who she happened to be, for in +imagination she was always the same. Annette had secured for him the +last dance with Ruth, and he intended to practise every moment until +that magic hour should arrive. + +But youth reckons not with circumstance. Just when all sails were set +and he was nearing perfection, he met with a disaster which promptly +relegated him to the dry-dock. His partner did not dance! + +When he looked at her, he found that she was tall and thin and +vivacious, and he felt that she must have been going to hops for a +very long time. + +"I hate dancing, don't you?" she said. "Let's go over there, out of +the crowd, and have a nice long talk." + +Sandy glanced at the place indicated. It seemed a long way from base. + +"Wouldn't you like to stand here and watch them?" he floundered +helplessly. + +"Oh, dear, no; it's too crowded. Besides," she added playfully, "I +have heard _so_ much about you and your awfully romantic life. I just +want to know all about it." + +As a trout, one moment in mid-stream swimming and frolicking with the +best, finds himself suddenly snatched out upon the bank, gasping and +helpless, so Sandy found himself high and dry against the wall, with +the insistent voice of his captor droning in his ears. + +She had evidently been wound and set, and Sandy had unwittingly +started the pendulum. + +"Have you ever been to Chicago, Mr. Kilday? No? It is such a dear +place; I simply adore it. I'm on my way home from there now. All my +men friends begged me to stay; they sent me so many flowers I had to +keep them in the bath-tub. Wasn't it darling of them? I just love +men. How long have you been in Clayton, Mr. Kilday?" + +He tried to answer coherently, but his thoughts were in eager pursuit +of a red rose that flashed in and out among the dancers. + +"And you really came over from England by yourself when you were just +a small boy? Weren't you clever! But I know the captain and all of +them made a great pet of you. Then you made a walking tour through the +States; I heard all about it. It was just too romantic for any use. I +love adventure. My two best friends are at the theological seminary. +One's going to India,--he's a blond,--and one to Africa. Just between +us, I am going with one of them, but I can't for the life of me make +up my mind which. I don't know why I am telling you all these things, +Mr. Kilday, except that you are so sweet and sympathetic. You +understand, don't you?" + +He assured her that he did with more vehemence than was necessary, for +he did not want her to suspect that he had not heard what she said. + +"I knew you did. I knew it the moment I shook hands with you. I felt +that we were drawn to each other. I am like you; I am just full of +magnetism." + +Sandy unconsciously moved slightly away: he had a sudden uncomfortable +realization that he was the only one within the sphere of influence. + +After two intermissions he suggested that they go out to the +drug-store and get some soda-water. On the steps they met Annette. + +"You old f-fraud," she whispered to Sandy in passing, "I thought you +didn't like to sit out d-dances." + +He smiled feebly. + +"Don't you mind her teasing," pouted his partner; "if we like to talk +better than to dance, it's our own affair." + +Sandy wished devoutly that it was somebody else's. When they returned, +they went back to their old corner. The chairs, evidently considering +them permanent occupants, assumed an air of familiarity which he +resented. + +"Do you know, you remind me of an old sweetheart of mine," resumed the +voice of his captor, coyly. "He was the first real lover I ever had. +His eyes were big and pensive, just like yours, and there was always +that same look in his face that just made me want to stay with him all +the time to keep him from being lonely. He was awfully fond of me, but +he had to go out West to make his fortune, and he married before he +got back." + +Sandy sighed, ostensibly in sympathy, but in reality at his own sad +fate. At that moment Prometheus himself would not have envied him his +state of mind. The music set his nerves tingling and the dancers +beckoned him on, yet he was bound to his chair, with no relief in +view. At the tenth intermission he suggested soda-water again, after +which they returned to their seats. + +"I hope people aren't talking about us," she said, with a pleased +laugh. "I oughtn't to have given you all these dances. It's perfectly +fatal for a girl to show such preference for one man. But we are so +congenial, and you do remind me--" + +"If it's embarrassing to you--" began Sandy, grasping the straw with +both hands. + +"Not one bit," she asserted. "If you would rather have a good +confidential time here with me than to meet a lot of silly little +girls, then I don't care what people say. But, as I was telling you, I +met him the year I came out, and he was interested in me right off--" + +On and on and on she went, and Sandy ceased to struggle. He sank in +his chair in dogged dejection. He felt that she had been talking ever +since he was born, and was going to continue until he died, and that +all he could do was to wait in anguish for the end. He watched the +flushed, happy faces whirling by. How he envied the boys their wilted +collars! After eons and eons of time the band played "Home, Sweet +Home." + +"It's the last dance," said she. "Aren't you sorry? We've had a +perfectly divine time--" She got no further, for her partner, faithful +through many numbers, had deserted his post at last. + +Sandy pushed eagerly through the crowd and presented himself at Ruth's +side. She was sitting with several boys on the stage steps, her cheeks +flushed from the dance, and a loosened curl falling across her bare +shoulder. He tried to claim his dance, but the words, too long +confined, rushed to his lips so madly as to form a blockade. + +She looked up and saw him--saw the longing and doubt in his eyes, and +came to his rescue. + +"Isn't this our dance, Mr. Kilday?" she said, half smiling, half +timidly. + +In the excitement of the moment he forgot his carefully practised bow, +and the omission brought such chagrin that he started out with the +wrong foot. There was a gentle, ripping sound, and a quarter of a yard +of lace trailed from the hem of his partner's skirt. + +"Did I put me foot in it?" cried Sandy, in such burning consternation +that Ruth laughed. + +"It doesn't matter a bit," she said lightly, as she stooped to pin it +up. "It shows I've had a good time. Come! Don't let's miss the music." + +He took her hand, and they stepped out on the polished floor. The +blissful agony of those first few moments was intolerably sweet. + +She was actually dancing with him (one, two, three; one, two, three). +Her soft hair was close to his cheek (one, two, three; one, two, +three). What if he should miss a step (one, two, three)--or fall? + +He stole a glance at her; she smiled reassuringly. Then he forgot all +about the steps and counting time. He felt as he had that morning on +shipboard when the _America_ passed the _Great Britain_. All the joy +of boyhood resurged through his veins, and he danced in a wild +abandonment of bliss; for the band was playing "Home, Sweet Home," +and to Sandy it meant that, come what might, within her shining eyes +his gipsy soul had found its final home. + +[Illustration: "Then he forgot all about the steps and counting time"] + +When the music stopped, and they stood, breathless and laughing, at +the dressing-room door, Ruth said: + +"I thought Annette told me you were just learning to dance!" + +"So I am," said Sandy; "but me heart never kept time for me before!" + +When Annette joined them she looked up at Sandy and smiled. + +"Poor f-fellow!" she said sympathetically. "What a perfectly horrid +time you've had!" + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +THE NELSON HOME + +Willowvale, the Nelson homestead, lay in the last curve of the river, +just before it left the restrictions of town for the freedom of fields +and meadows. + +It was a quaint old house, all over honeysuckles and bow-windows and +verandas, approached by an oleander-bordered walk, and sheltered by a +wide circle of poplar-and oak-trees that had nodded both approval and +disapproval over many generations of Nelsons. + +In the dining-room, on the massive mahogany table, lunch was laid for +three. Carter sat at the foot, absorbed in a newspaper, while at the +head Mrs. Nelson languidly partook of her second biscuit. It was +vulgar, in her estimation, for a lady to indulge in more than two +biscuits at a meal. + +When old Evan Nelson died six years before, he had left the bulk of +his fortune to his two grandchildren, and a handsome allowance to his +eldest son's widow, with the understanding that she was to take charge +of Ruth until that young lady should become of age. + +Mrs. Nelson accepted the trust with becoming resignation. The prospect +of guiding a wealthy and obedient young person through the social +labyrinth to an eligible marriage wakened certain faculties that had +long lain dormant. It was not until the wealthy and obedient young +person began to develop tastes of her own that she found the burden +irksome. + +Nine months of the year Ruth was at boarding-school, and the remaining +three she insisted upon spending in the old home at Clayton, where +Carter kept his dogs and horses and spent his summers. Hitherto Mrs. +Nelson had compromised with her. By adroit management she contrived +to keep her, for weeks at a time, at various summer resorts, where she +expected her to serve a sort of social apprenticeship which would fit +her for her future career. + +At nineteen Ruth developed alarming symptoms of obstinacy. Mrs. Nelson +confessed tearfully to the rest of the family that it had existed in +embryo for years. Instead of making the most of her first summer out +of school, the foolish girl announced her intention of going to +Willowvale for an indefinite stay. + +It was indignation at this state of affairs that caused Mrs. Nelson to +lose her appetite. Clayton was to her the limit of civilization; there +was too much sunshine, too much fresh air, too much out of doors. She +disliked nature in its crude state; she preferred it softened and +toned down to drawing-room pitch. + +She glanced up in disapproval as Ruth's laugh sounded in the hall. + +"Rachel, tell her that lunch is waiting," she said to the colored +girl at her side. + +Carter looked up as Ruth came breezily into the room. She wore her +riding-habit, and her hair was tossed by her brisk morning canter. + +"You don't look as if you had danced all night," he said. "Did the +mare behave herself?" + +"She's a perfect beauty, Carter. I rode her round the old mill-dam, +'cross the ford, and back by the Hollises'. Now I'm perfectly +famished. Some hot rolls, Rachel, and another croquette, and--and +everything you have." + +Mrs. Nelson picked several crumbs from the cloth and laid them +carefully on her plate. "When I was a young lady I always slept after +being out in the evening. I had a half-cup of coffee and one roll +brought to me in bed, and I never rose until noon." + +"But I hate to stay in bed," said Ruth; "and, besides, I hate to miss +a half-day." + +"Is there anything on for this afternoon?" asked Carter. + +"Why, yes--" Ruth began, but her aunt finished for her: + +"Now, Carter, it's too warm to be proposing anything more. You aren't +well, and Ruth ought to stay at home and put cold cream on her face. +It is getting so burned that her pink evening-dresses will be worse +than useless. Besides, there is absolutely nothing to do in this +stupid place. I feel as if I couldn't stand it all summer." + +This being a familiar opening to a disagreeable subject, the two young +people lapsed into silence, and Mrs. Nelson was constrained to address +her communications to the tea-pot. She glanced about the big, +old-fashioned room and sighed. + +"It's nothing short of criminal to keep all this old mahogany buried +here in the country, and the cut-glass and silver. And to think that +the house cannot be sold for two more years! Not until Ruth is of age! +What _do_ you suppose your dear grandfather _could_ have been +thinking of?" + +This question, eliciting no reply from the tea-pot, remained suspended +in the air until it attracted Ruth's wandering attention. + +"I beg your pardon, aunt. What grandfather was thinking of? About the +place? Why, I guess he hoped that Carter and I would keep it." + +Carter looked over his paper. "Keep this old cemetery? Not I! The day +it is sold I start for Europe. If one lung is gone and the other +going, I intend to enjoy myself while it goes." + +"Carter!" begged Ruth, appealingly. + +He laughed. "You ought to be glad to get rid of me, Ruth. You've +bothered your head about me ever since you were born." + +She slipped her hand into his as it lay on the table, and looked at +him wistfully. + +"The idea of the old governor thinking we'd want to stay here!" he +said, with a curl of the lip. + +"Perfectly ridiculous!" echoed Mrs. Nelson. + +"I don't know," said Ruth; "it's more like home than any place else. I +don't think I could ever bear to sell it." + +"Now, my dear Ruth," said Mrs. Nelson, in genuine alarm, "don't be +sentimental, I beg of you. When once you make your début, you'll feel +very different about things. Of course the place must be sold: it +can't be rented, and I'm sure you will never get me to spend another +summer in Clayton. You could not stay here alone." + +Ruth sat with her chin in her hands and gazed absently out of the +window. She remembered when that yard was to her as the garden of +Eden. As a child she had been brought here, a delicate, faded little +hot-house plant, and for three wonderful years had been allowed to +grow and blossom at will in the freedom of outdoor life. The glamour +of those old days still clung to the place, and made her love +everything connected with it. The front gate, with its wide white +posts, still held the records of her growth, for each year her +grandfather had stood her against it and marked her progress. The huge +green tub holding the crape myrtle was once a park where she and +Annette had played dolls, and once it had served as a burying-ground +when Carter's sling brought down a sparrow. The ice house, with its +steep roof, recalled a thrilling tobogganing experience when she was +six. Grandfather had laughed over the torn gown, and bade her do it +again. + +It was the trees, though, that she loved best of all; for they were +friendly old poplar-trees on which the bark formed itself into all +sorts of curious eyes. One was a wicked old stepfather eye with a +heavy lid; she remembered how she used to tiptoe past it and pretend +to be afraid. Beyond, by the arbor, were two smaller trees, where a +coquettish eye on one looked up to an adoring eye on the other. She +had often built a romance about them as she watched them peeping at +each other through the leaves. + +Down behind the house the waving fields of blue-grass rippled away to +the little river, where weeping willows hung their heads above the +lazy water, and ferns reached up the banks to catch the flowers. And +the fields and the river and the house and the trees were hers,--hers +and Carter's,--and neither could sell without the consent of the +other. She took a deep breath of satisfaction. The prospect of living +alone in the old homestead failed to appal her. + +"A letter came this morning," said Mrs. Nelson, tracing the crest on +the silver creamer. "It's from your Aunt Elizabeth. She wants us to +spend ten days with her at the shore. They have taken a handsome +cottage next to the Warrentons. You remember young Mr. Warrenton, +Ruth? He is a grandson of Commodore Warrenton." + +"Warrenton? Oh, yes, I do remember him--the one that didn't have any +neck." + +Mrs. Nelson closed her eyes for a moment, as if praying for patience; +then she went on: "Your Aunt Elizabeth thinks, as I do, that it is +absurd for you to bury yourself down here. She wants you to meet +people of your own class. Do you think you can be ready to start on +Wednesday?" + +"Why, we have been here only a week!" cried Ruth. "I am having such a +good time, and--" she broke off impulsively. "But I know it's dull for +you, Aunt Clara. You go, and leave me here with Carter. I'll do +everything you say if you will only let me stay." + +Carter laughed. "One would think that Ruth's sole aim in life was to +cultivate Clayton--the distinguished, exclusive, aristocratic society +of Clayton." + +She put her hand on his arm and looked at him pleadingly: "Please +don't laugh at me, Carter! I love it here, and I want to stay. You +know Aunt Elizabeth; you know what her friends are like. They think I +am queer. I can't be happy where they are." + +Mrs. Nelson resorted to her smelling-bottle. "Of course my opinions +are of no weight. I only wish to remind you that it would be most +impolitic to offend your Aunt Elizabeth. She could introduce you into +the most desirable set; and even if she is a little--" she searched a +moment for a word--"a little liberal in her views, one can overlook +that on account of her generosity. She is a very influential woman, +Ruth, and a very wealthy one." + +Ruth made a quick, impatient gesture. "I don't like her, Aunt Clara; +and I don't want you to ask me to go there." + +Mrs. Nelson folded her napkin with tragic deliberation. "Very well," +she said; "it is not my place to urge it. I can only point out your +duty and leave the rest to you. One thing I must speak about, and that +is your associating so familiarly with these townspeople. They are +impertinent; they take advantages, and forget who we are. Why, the +blacksmith had the audacity to refer to the dear major as 'Bob.'" + +"Old Uncle Dan?" asked Ruth, laughing. "I saw him yesterday, and he +shook hands with me and said: 'Golly, sissy, how you've growed!'" + +"Ruth," cried Mrs. Nelson, "how can you! Haven't you _any_ family +pride?" The tears came to her eyes, for the invitation to visit the +Hunter-Nelsons was one for which she had angled skilfully, and its +summary dismissal was a sore trial to her. + +In a moment Ruth was at her side, all contrition: "I'm sorry, Aunt +Clara; I know I'm a disappointment to you. I'll try--" + +Mrs. Nelson withdrew her hand and directed her injured reply to +Carter. "I have done my duty by your sister. She has been given every +advantage a young lady could desire. If she insists upon throwing away +her opportunities, I can't help it. I suppose I am no longer to be +consulted--no longer to be considered." She sought the seclusion of +her pocket-handkerchief, and her pompadour swayed with emotion. + +Ruth stood at the table, miserably pulling a rose to pieces. This +discussion was an old one, but it lost none of its sting by +repetition. Was she queer and obstinate and unreasonable? + +"Ruth's all right," said Carter, seeing her discomfort. "She will have +more sense when she is older. She's just got her little head turned by +all the attention she has had since coming home. There isn't a boy in +the county who wouldn't make love to her at the drop of her eyelash. +She was the belle of the hop last night; had the boys about her three +deep most of the time." + +"The hop!" Mrs. Nelson so far forgot herself as to uncover one eye. +"Don't speak of that wretched affair! The idea of her going! What do +you suppose your Aunt Elizabeth would say? A country dance in a public +hall!" + +"I only dropped in for the last few dances," said Carter, pouring +himself another glass of wine. "It was beastly hot and stupid." + +"I danced every minute the music played," cried Ruth; "and when they +played, 'Home, Sweet Home,' I could have begun and gone right through +it again." + +"By the way," said her brother, "didn't I see you dancing with that +Kilday boy?" + +"The last dance," said Ruth. "Why?" + +"Oh, I was a little surprised, that's all." + +Mrs. Nelson, scenting the suggestion in Carter's voice, was instantly +alert. + +"Who, pray, is Kilday?" + +"Oh, Kilday isn't anybody; that's the trouble. If he had been, he +would never have stayed with that old crank Judge Hollis. The judge +thinks he is appointed by Providence to control this bright particular +burg. He is even attempting to regulate me of late. The next time he +interferes he'll hear from me." + +"But Kilday?" urged Mrs. Nelson, feebly persistent. + +"Oh, Kilday is good enough in his place. He's a first-class athlete, +and has made a record up at the academy. But he was a peddler, you +know--an Irish peddler; came here three or four years ago with a pack +on his back." + +"And Ruth danced with him!" Mrs. Nelson's words were punctuated with +horror. + +Ruth looked up with blazing eyes. "Yes, I danced with him; why +shouldn't I? You made me dance with Mr. Warrenton, last summer, when I +told you he was drinking." + +"But, my dear child, you forget who Mr. Warrenton is. And you actually +danced with a peddler!" Her voice grew faint. "My dear, this must +never occur again. You are young and easily imposed upon. I will +accompany you everywhere in the future. Of course you need never +recognize him hereafter. The impertinence of his addressing you!" + +A step sounded on the gravel outside. Ruth ran to the window and spoke +to some one below. "I'll be there as soon as I change my habit," she +called. + +"Who is it?" asked her aunt, hastily arranging her disturbed locks. + +Ruth paused at the door. There was a slight tremor about her lips, +but her eyes flashed their first open declaration of independence. + +"It's Mr. Kilday," she said; "we are going out on the river." + +There was an oppressive silence of ten minutes after she left, during +which Carter smiled behind his paper and Mrs. Nelson gazed indignantly +at the tea-pot. Then she tapped the bell. + +"Rachel," she said impressively, "go to Miss Ruth's room and get her +veil and gloves and sun-shade. Have Thomas take them to the boat-house +at once." + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +UNDER THE WILLOWS + + +Between willow-fringed banks of softest green, and under the bluest of +summer skies, the little river took its lazy Southern way. Tall blue +lobelias and golden flags played hide-and-seek in the reflections of +the gentle stream, and an occasional spray of goldenrod, advance-guard +of the autumn, stood apart, a silent warning to the summer idlers. + +Somewhere overhead a vireo, dainty poet of bird-land, proclaimed his +love to the wide world; while below, another child of nature, no less +impassioned, no less aching to give vent to the joy that was bursting +his being, sat silent in a canoe that swung softly with the pulsing of +the stream. + +For Sandy had followed the highroad that led straight into the Land +of Enchantment. No more wanderings by intricate byways up golden hills +to golden castles; the Love Road had led him at last to the real world +of the King Arthur days--the world that was lighted by a strange and +wondrous light of romance, wherein he dwelt, a knight, waiting and +longing to prove his valor in the eyes of his lady fair. + +Burning deeds of prowess rioted in his brain. Oh for dungeons and +towers and forbidding battlements! Any danger was welcome from which +he might rescue her. Fire, flood, or bandits--he would brave them all. +Meanwhile he sat in the prow of the boat, his hands clasped about his +knees, utterly powerless to break the spell of awkward silence that +seemed to possess him. + +[Illustration: "Burning deeds of prowess rioted in his brain"] + +They had paddled in under the willows to avoid the heat of the sun, +and had tied their boat to an overhanging bough. + +Ruth, with her sleeve turned back to the elbow, was trailing her hand +in the cool water and watching the little circles that followed her +fingers. Her hat was off, and her hair, where the sun fell on it +through the leaves, was almost the color of her eyes. + +But what was the real color of her eyes? Sandy brought all his +intellect to bear upon the momentous question. Sometimes, he thought, +they were as dark as the velvet shadows in the heart of the stream; +sometimes they were lighted by tiny flames of gold that sparkled in +the brown depths as the sunshine sparkled in the shadows. They were +deep as his love and bright as his hope. + +Suddenly he realized that she had asked him a question. + +"It's never a word I've heard of what ye are saying!" he exclaimed +contritely. "My mind was on your eyes, and the brown of them. Do they +keep changing color like that all the time?" + +Ruth, thus earnestly appealed to, blushed furiously. + +"I was talking about the river," she said quickly. "It's jolly under +here, isn't it? So cool and green! I was awfully cross when I +came." + +"You cross?" + +She nodded her head. "And ungrateful, and perverse, and queer, and +totally unlike my father's family." She counted off her shortcomings +on her fingers, and raised her brows in comical imitation of her aunt. + +"A left-hand blessing on the one that said so!" cried Sandy, with such +ardor that she fled to another subject. + +"I saw Martha Meech yesterday. She was talking about you. She was very +weak, and could speak only in a whisper, but she seemed happy." + +"It's like her soul was in Heaven already," said Sandy. + +"I took her a little picture," went on Ruth; "she loves them so. It +was a copy of one of Turner's." + +"Turner?" repeated Sandy. "Joseph Mallord William Turner, born in +London, 1775. Member of the Royal Academy. Died in 1851." + +She looked so amazed at this burst of information that he laughed. + +"It's out of the catalogue. I learned what it said about the ones I +liked best years ago." + +"Where?" + +"At the Olympian Exposition." + +"I was there," said Ruth; "it was the summer we came home from Europe. +Perhaps that was where I saw you. I know I saw you somewhere before +you came here." + +"Perhaps," said Sandy, skipping a bit of bark across the water. + +A band of yellow butterflies on wide wings circled about them, and +one, mistaking Ruth's rosy wet fingers for a flower, settled there for +a long rest. + +"Look!" she whispered; "see how long it stays!" + +"It's not meself would be blaming it for forgetting to go away," said +Sandy. + +They both laughed, then Ruth leaned over the boat's side and pretended +to be absorbed in her reflection in the water. Sandy had not learned +that unveiled glances are improper, and if his lips refrained from +echoing the vireo's song, his eyes were less discreet. + +"You've got a dimple in your elbow!" he cried, with the air of one +discovering a continent. + +"I haven't," declared she, but the dimple turned State's evidence. + +The sun had gone under a cloud as the afternoon shadows began to +lengthen, and a light tenderer than sunlight and warmer than moonlight +fell across the river. The water slipped over the stones behind them +with a pleasant swish and swirl, and the mint that was crushed by the +prow of their boat gave forth an aromatic perfume. + +Ever afterward the first faint odor of mint made Sandy close his eyes +in a quick desire to retain the memory it recalled, to bring back the +dawn of love, the first faint flush of consciousness in the girlish +cheeks and the soft red lips, and the quick, uncertain breath as her +heart tried not to catch beat with his own. + +"Can't you sing something?" she asked presently. "Annette Fenton says +you know all sorts of quaint old songs." + +"They're just the bits I remember of what me mother used to sing me in +the old country." + +"Sing the one you like best," demanded Ruth. + +Softly, with the murmur of the river ac-companying the song, he began: + + "Ah! The moment was sad when my love and I parted, + Savourneen deelish, signan O! + As I kiss'd off her tears, I was nigh broken-hearted!-- + Savourneen deelish, signan O!" + +Ruth took her hand out of the water and looked at him with puzzled +eyes. "Where have I heard it? On a boat somewhere, and the moon was +shining. I remember the refrain perfectly." + +Sandy remembered, too. In a moment he felt himself an impostor and a +cheat. He had stumbled into the Enchanted Land, but he had no right to +be there. He buried his head in his hands and felt the dream-world +tottering about him. + +"Are you trying to remember the second verse?" asked Ruth. + +"No," said he, his head still bowed; "I'm trying to help you remember +the first one. Was it the boat ye came over from Europe in?" + +"That was it!" she cried. "It was on shipboard. I was standing by the +railing one night and heard some one singing it in the steerage. I was +just a little girl, but I've never forgotten that 'Savourneen +deelish,' nor the way he sang it." + +"Was it a man'?" asked Sandy, huskily. + +"No," she said, half frowning in her effort to remember; "it was a +boy--a stowaway, I think. They said he had tried to steal his way in a +life-boat." + +"He had!" cried Sandy, raising his head and leaning toward her. "He +stole on board with only a few shillings and a bundle of clothes. He +sneaked his way up to a life-boat and hid there like a thief. When +they found him and punished him as he deserved, there was a little +lady looked down at him and was sorry, and he's traveled over all the +years from then to now to thank her for it." + +Ruth drew back in amazement, and Sandy's courage failed for a moment. +Then his face hardened and he plunged recklessly on: + +"I've blacked boots, and sold papers; I've fought dogs, and peddled, +and worked on the railroad. Many's the time I've been glad to eat the +scraps the workmen left on the track. And just because a kind, good +man--God prosper his soul!--saw fit to give me a home and an +education, I turned a fool and dared to think I was a gentleman!" + +For a moment pride held Ruth's pity back. Every tradition of her +family threw up a barrier between herself and this son of the soil. + +"Why did you come to Kentucky?" she asked. + +"Why?" cried Sandy, too miserable to hold anything back. "Because I +saw the name of the place on your bag at the pier. I came here for the +chance of seeing you again, of knowing for sure there was something +good and beautiful in the world to offset all the bad I'd seen. Every +page I've learned has been for you, every wrong thought I've put out +of me mind has been to make more room for you. I don't even ask ye to +be my friend; I only ask to be yours, to see ye sometime, to talk to +you, and to keep ye first in my heart and to serve ye to the end." + +The vireo had stopped singing and was swinging on a bough above them. + +Ruth sat very still and looked straight before her. She had never seen +a soul laid bare before, and the sight thrilled and troubled her. All +the petty artifices which the world had taught her seemed useless +before this shining candor. + +"And--and you've remembered me all this time?" she asked, with a +little tremble in her voice. "I did not know people cared like that." + +"And you're not sorry?" persisted Sandy. "You'll let me be your +friend?" + +She held out her hand with an earnestness as deep as his own. In an +instant he had caught it to his lips. All the bloom of the summer +rushed to her cheeks, and she drew quickly away. + +"Oh! but I'll take it back--I never meant it," cried Sandy, wild with +remorse. "Me heart crossed the line ahead of me head, that was all. +You've given me your friendship, and may the sorrow seize me if I ever +ask for more!" + +At this the vireo burst into such mocking, derisive laughter of song +that they both looked up and smiled. + +"He doesn't think you mean it," said Ruth; "but you must mean it, +else I can't ever be your friend." + +Sandy shook his fist at the bird. + +"You spalpeen, you! If I had ye down here I'd throw ye out of the +tree! But you mustn't believe him. I'll stick to my word as the wind +to the tree-tops. No--I don't mean that. As the stream to the shore. +No-" + +He stopped and laughed. All figures of speech conspired to make him +break his word. + +Somewhere from out the forgotten world came six long, lingering +strokes of a bell. Sandy and Ruth untied the canoe and paddled out +into midstream, leaving the willow bower full of memories and the +vireo still hopping about among the branches. + +"I'll paddle you up to the bridge," said Ruth; "then you will be near +the post-office." + +Sandy's voice was breaking to say that she could paddle him up to the +moon if she would only stay there between him and the sun, with her +hair forming a halo about her face. But they were going down-stream, +and all too soon he was stepping out of the canoe to earth again. + +"And will I have to be waiting till the morrow to see you?" he asked, +with his hand on the boat. + +"To-morrow? Not until Sunday." + +"But Sunday is a month off! You'll be coming for the mail?" + +"We send for the mail," said Ruth, demurely. + +"Then ye'll be sending in vain for yours. I'll hold it back till ye +come yourself, if I lose my position for it." + +Ruth put three feet of water between them, then she looked up with +mischief in her eyes. "I don't want you to lose your position," she +said. + +"Then you'll come?" + +"Perhaps." + +Sandy watched her paddle away straight into the heart of the sun. He +climbed the bank and waved her out of sight. He had to use a maple +branch, for his hat and handkerchief, not to mention less material +possessions, were floating down-stream in the boat with Ruth. + +"Hello, Kilday!" called Dr. Fenton from the road above. "Going +up-town? I'll give you a lift." + +Sandy turned and looked up at the doctor impatiently. The presence of +other people in the world seemed an intrusion. + +"I've been out to the Meeches' all afternoon," said the doctor, +wearily, mopping his face with a red-bordered handkerchief. + +"Is Martha worse?" asked Sandy, in quick alarm. + +"No, she's better," said the doctor, gruffly; "she died at four +o'clock." + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +THE VICTIM + + +Some poet has described love as a little glow and a little shiver; to +Sandy it was more like a ravaging fire in his heart, which lighted up +a world of such unutterable bliss that he cheerfully added fresh fuel +to the flames that were consuming him. The one absorbing necessity of +his existence was to see Ruth daily, and the amount of strategy, +forethought, and subtilty with which he accomplished it argued well +for his future ability at the bar. + +In the long hours of the night Wisdom urged prudence; she presented +all the facts in the case, and convinced him of his folly. But with +the dawn he threw discretion to the winds, and rushed valiantly +forward, leading a forlorn hope under cover of a little Platonic flag +of truce. + +With all the fervor and intensity of his nature he tried to fit +himself to Ruth's standards. Every unconscious suggestion that she let +fall, through word, or gesture, or expression, he took to heart and +profited by. With almost passionate earnestness he sought to be worthy +of her. Fighting, climbing, struggling upward, he closed his eyes to +the awful depth to which he would fall if his quest were vain. + +Meanwhile his cheeks became hollow and he lost his appetite. The judge +attributed it to Martha Meech's death; for Sandy's genuine grief and +his continued kindness to the bereft neighbors confirmed an old +suspicion. Mrs. Hollis thought it was malaria, and dosed him +accordingly. It was Aunt Melvy who made note of his symptoms and +diagnosed his case correctly. + +"He's sparkin' some gal, Miss Sue; dat's what ails him," she said one +evening as she knelt on the sitting-room hearth to kindle the first +fire of the season. "Dey ain't but two t'ings onder heaben dat'll keep +a man f'om eatin'. One's a woman, t' other is lack ob food." + +Judge Hollis looked over his glasses and smiled. + +"Who do you think the lady is, Melvy?" + +Aunt Melvy wagged her head knowingly as she held a paper across the +fireplace to start the blaze. + +"I ain't gwine tell no tales on Mist' Sandy. But yer can't fool dis +heah ole nigger. I mind de signs; I knows mo' 'bout de young folks in +dis heah town den dey t'ink I do. Fust t'ing you know, I'm gwine tell +on some ob 'em, too. I 'spect de doctor would put' near die ef he +knowed dat Miss Annette was a-havin' incandescent meetin's wif Carter +Nelson 'most ever' day." + +"Is Sandy after Annette, too?" + +"No, sonny, no!" said Aunt Melvy, to whom all men were "sonny" until +they died of old age. "Mist' Sandy he's aimin' at high game. He's +fix' his eyeball on de shore-'nough quality." + +"Do you mean Ruth Nelson?" asked Mrs. Hollis, snapping her scissors +sharply. "He surely wouldn't be fool enough to think she would look at +him. Why, the Nelsons think they are the only aristocratic people that +ever lived in Clayton. If they had paid less attention to their +ancestors and more to their descendants, they might have had a better +showing." + +"I nebber said it was Miss Rufe," said Aunt Melvy from the doorway; +"but den ag'in I don't say hit ain't." + +"Well, I hope it's not," said the judge to his wife as he laid down +his paper; "though I must say she is as pretty and friendly a girl as +I ever saw. No matter how long she stays away, she is always glad to +see everybody when she comes back. Some of old Evan's geniality must +have come down to her." + +"Geniality!" cried Mrs. Hollis. "It was mint-juleps and brandy and +soda. He was just as snobbish as the rest of them when he was sober. +If she has any good in her, it's from her mother's side of the house." + +"I hope Sandy isn't interested there," went on the judge, +thoughtfully. "It would not do him any good, and would spoil his taste +for what he could get. How long has it been going on, Sue?" + +"He's been acting foolish for a month, but it gets worse all the time. +He moons around the house, with his head in the clouds, and sits up +half the night hanging out of his window. He has raked out all those +silly old poetry-books of yours, and I find them strewn all over the +house. Here's one now; look at those pencil-marks all round the +margin!" + +"Some of the marks were there before," said the judge, as he read the +title. + +"Then there are more fools than one in the world. Here is where he has +turned down a leaf. Now just read that bosh and nonsense!" + +The judge took the book from her hand and read with a reminiscent +smile: + + "When cold in the earth lies the friend thou hast loved, + Be his faults and his follies forgot by thee then; + Or if from their slumber the veil be removed, + Weep o'er them in silence and close it again. + And, oh! if 't is pain to remember how far + From the pathway of light he was tempted to roam, + Be it bliss to remember that thou wert the star + That arose on his darkness and guided him home." + +The judge paused, with his eyes on the fire; then he said: "I think +I'll wait up for the boy to-night, Sue. I want to tell him the good +news myself. You haven't spoken of it?" + +"No, indeed. I haven't seen him since breakfast. Melvy says he spends +his spare time on the river. That's what's giving him the malaria, +too, you mark my words." + +It was after eleven when Sandy's step sounded on the porch. At the +judge's call he opened the sitting-room door and stood dazed by the +sudden light. The judge noticed that he was pale and dejected, and he +suppressed a smile over the imaginary troubles of youth. + +"What's the matter? Are you sick?" he asked. + +"No, sir." + +"Come in to the fire; it's a bit chilly these nights." + +Sandy dropped listlessly into a chair, with his back to the light. + +"There are several things I want to talk over," continued the judge. +"One is about Ricks Wilson. He has behaved very badly ever since that +affair in August. Everybody who goes near the jail comes away with +reports of his threats against me. He seems to think I am holding his +trial over until January, when the fact is I have been trying to get +him released on your account. It is of no use, though; he will have to +wait his turn." + +"I'm sorry, sir," said Sandy, without looking up. + +"Then there's Carter Nelson encouraging him in his feeling against +me. It seems that Nelson wants the fellow to drive for him at the fall +trots, and he has given me no end of trouble about getting him off. +What an insolent fellow Nelson is! He talked very ugly in my office +yesterday, and made various threats about making me regret any +interference. I wouldn't have stood it from any one else; but Carter +is hardly responsible. I have watched him from the time he was born. +He came into the world with a mortal illness, and I doubt if he ever +had a well day in his life. He's a degenerate, Sandy; he's bearing the +sins of a long line of dissolute ancestors. We have to be patient with +men like that; we have to look on them as we do on the insane." + +He waited for some response, but, getting none, pulled his chair in +confidential proximity and laid his hand on Sandy's knee. "However, +that's neither here nor there," he said. "I have a surprise for you. I +couldn't let you go to bed without telling you about it. It's about +your future, Sandy. I've been talking it over with Mr. Moseley, and he +is confident--" + +Suddenly Sandy rose and stood by the table. + +"Don't be making any more plans for me," he said desperately; "I've +made up me mind to enlist." + +"Enlist! In the army?" + +"Yes; I've got to get away. I must go so far that I can't come back; +and, judge--I want to go to-morrow!" + +"Is it money matters?" + +A long silence followed--of the kind that ripens confidence. Presently +Sandy lifted his haggard eyes: "It's nothing I'm ashamed of, judge; ye +must take me word for that. It's like taking the heart out of me body +to go, but I've made up me mind. Nothing on earth can change me +purpose; I enlist on the morrow." + +The judge looked at him long and earnestly over his glasses, then he +asked in calm, judicial tones: "Is her answer final?" + +Sandy started from his chair. How finite intelligence could have +discovered the innermost secret of his soul seemed little short of +miraculous. But the relief of being able to pour out his feelings +mastered all other considerations. + +"Oh, sir, there was never a question. Like the angel she is, she let +me be near her so long as I held my peace; but, fool that I am, I +break me promise again and again. I can't keep silent when I see her. +The truth would burst from me lips if I was dumb." + +"And you think you would be better if you were out of her sight?" + +"Is a starving man better when he is away from food?" asked Sandy, +fiercely. "Heaven knows it's not of meself I'm thinking. It's breaking +her tender heart to see me misery staring her in the face, and I'll +put it out of her sight." + +"Is it Ruth?" asked the judge. + +Sandy assented with bowed head. + +The judge got up and stood before the fire. + +"Didn't you know," he began as kindly as he could put it, "that you +were not in her--that is, that she was not of your--" + +Sandy lifted blazing eyes, hot with the passion of youth. + +"If she'd been in heaven and I'd been in hell, I'd have stretched out +my arms to her still!" + +Something in his eyes, in his voice, in his intensity, brought the +judge to his side. + +"How long has this thing been going on?" he asked seriously. + +"Four years!" + +"Before you came here?" + +"Yes." + +"You followed her here?" + +"Yes." + +Whereupon the judge gave vent to the one profane word in his +vocabulary. + +Then Sandy, having confided so far, made a clean breast of it, +breaking down at the end when he tried to describe Ruth's goodness +and the sorrow his misery had caused her. + +When it was over the judge had hold of his hand and was bestowing +large, indiscriminate pats upon his head and shoulders. + +"It's hard luck, Sandy; hard luck. But you must brace up, boy. +Everybody wants something in the world he can't get. We all go under, +sooner or later, with some wish ungratified. Now I've always wanted--" +he pressed his fingers on his lips for a moment, then went on--"the +one thing I've wanted was a son. It seemed to me there was nothing +else in the world would make up to me for that lack. I had money more +than enough, and health and friends; but I wanted a boy. When you came +I said to Sue: 'Let's keep him a while just to see how it would feel.' +It's been worth while, Sandy; you have done me credit. It almost +seemed as if the Lord didn't mean me to be disappointed, after all. +And to-day, when Mr. Moseley said you ought to have a year or two at +the big university, I said: 'Why not? He's just like my own. I'll send +him this year and next, and then he can come home and be a comfort to +me all the rest of my days.' That's what I was sitting up to tell you, +Sandy; but now--" + +"And ye sha'n't be disappointed!" cried Sandy. "I'll go anywhere you +say, do anything you wish. Only you wouldn't be asking me to stay +here?" + +"Not now, Sandy; not for a while." + +"Never!--so long as she's here. I'll never bring me sorrow between her +and the sun again-so help me, Heaven! And if the Lord gives me +strength, I'll never see her face again, so long as I live!" + +"Go to bed, boy; go to bed. You are tired out. We will ship you off to +the university next week." + +"Can't I be going to-morrow? Friday, then? I'd never dare trust meself +over the week." + +"Friday, then. But mind, no more prancing to-night; we must both go to +bed." + +Neither of them did so, however. Sandy went to his room and sat in +his window, watching a tiny light that flickered, far across the +valley, in the last bend of the river before it left the town. His +muscles were tense, his nerves a-tingle, as he strained his eyes in +the darkness to keep watch of the beacon. It was the last glimpse of +home to a sailor who expected never to return. + +Down in the sitting-room the judge was lost in the pages of a worn old +copy of Tom Moore. He fingered the pages with a tenderness of other +days, and lingered over the forgotten lines with a half-quizzical, +half-sad smile on his lips. For he had been a lover once, and Sandy's +romance stirred dead leaves in his heart that sent up a faint perfume +of memory. + +"Yes," he mused half aloud; "I marked that one too: + + "Be it bliss to remember that thou wert the star + That arose on his darkness and guided him home." + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +THE TRIALS OF AN ASSISTANT POSTMASTER + + +By all laws of mercy the post-master in a small town should be old and +mentally near-sighted. Jimmy Reed was young and curious. He had even +yielded to temptation once in removing a stamp on a letter from +Annette Fenton to a strange suitor. Not that he wanted to delay the +letter. He only wanted to know if she put tender messages under the +stamp when she wrote to other people. + +During the two years Sandy remained at the university, Jimmy handed +his letters out of the post-office window to the judge once a week, +following them half-way with his body to pick up the verbal crumbs of +interest the judge might let fall while perusing them. The supremacy +which Sandy had established in the base-ball days had lent him a +permanent halo in the eyes of the younger boys of Clayton. "Letter +from Sandy this morning," Jimmy would announce, adding somewhat +anxiously, "Ain't he on the team yet?" + +The judge was obliging and easy-going, and he frequently gratified +Jimmy's curiosity. + +"No; he's studying pretty hard these days. He says he is through with +athletics." + +"Does he like it up there?" + +"Oh, yes, yes; I guess he likes it well enough," the judge would +answer tentatively; "but I am afraid he's working too hard." + +"Looks like a pity to spoil such a good pitcher," said Jimmy, +thoughtfully. "I never saw him lose but one game, and that nearly +killed him." + +"Disappointment goes hard with him," said the judge, and he sighed. + +Jimmy's chronic interest developed into acute curiosity the second +winter--about the time the Nelsons returned to Clayton after a long +absence. + +On Thanksgiving morning he found two letters bearing his hero's +handwriting. One was to Judge Hollis and one to Miss Ruth Nelson. The +next week there were also two, both of which went to Miss Nelson. +After that it became a regular occurrence. + +Jimmy recognized two letters a week from one person to one person as a +danger-signal. His curiosity promptly rose to fever-heat. He even went +so far as to weigh the letters, and roughly to calculate the number of +pages in each. Once or twice he felt something hard inside, and upon +submitting the envelop to his nose, he distinguished the faint +fragrance of pressed flowers. It was perhaps a blessing in disguise +that the duty of sorting the outgoing mail did not fall to his lot. +One added bit of information would have resulted in spontaneous +combustion. + +By and by letters came daily, their weight increasing until they +culminated, about Christmas-time, in a special-delivery letter which +bristled under the importance of its extra stamp. + +The same morning the telegraph operator stopped in to ask if the +Nelsons had been in for their mail. "I have a message for Miss Nelson, +but I thought they started for California this morning." + +"It's to-morrow morning they go," said Jimmy. "I'll send the message +out. I've got a special letter for her, and they can both go out by +the same boy." + +When the operator had gone, Jimmy promptly unfolded the yellow slip, +which was innocent of envelop. + + Do not read special-delivery letter. Will explain. + + S.K. + +For some time he sat with the letter in one hand and the message in +the other. Why had Sandy written that huge letter if he did not want +her to read it? Why didn't he want her to read it? Questions buzzed +about him like bees. + +Large ears are said to be indicative of an inquisitive nature. Jimmy's +stood out like the handles on a loving-cup. With all this explosive +material bottled up in him, he felt like a torpedo-boat deprived of +action. + +After a while he got up and went into the drug-store next door. When +he came back he made sure he was alone in the office. Then he propped +up the lid of his desk with the top of his head, in a manner acquired +at school, and hiding behind this improvised screen, he carefully took +from his pocket a small bottle of gasolene. Pouring a little on his +handkerchief, he applied it to the envelop of the special-delivery +letter. + +As if by magic, the words within showed through; and by frequent +applications of the liquid the engrossed Jimmy deciphered the +following: + + --like the moan of the sea in my heart, and it will not be still. + Heart, body, and soul will call to you, Ruth, so long as the + breath is in my body. I have not the courage to be your friend. + I swear, with all the strength I have left, never to see you nor + write you again. God bless you, my-- + +A noise at the window brought Jimmy to the surface. It was Annette +Fenton, and she seemed nervous and excited. + +"Mercy, Jimmy! What's the m-matter? You looked like you were caught +eating doughnuts in study hour. What a funny smell! Say, Jimmy; don't +you want to do something for me?" + +Jimmy had spent his entire youth in urging her to accept everything +that was his, and he hailed this as a good omen. + +"I have a l-letter here for dad," she went on, fidgeting about +uneasily and watching the door. "I don't want him to g-get it until +after the last train goes to-night. Will you see that he d-doesn't get +it before nine o'clock?" + +Jimmy took the letter and looked blankly from it to Annette. + +"Why, it's from you!" + +"What if it is, you b-booby?" she cried sharply; then she changed her +tactics and looked up appealingly through the little square window. + +"Oh, Jimmy, do help me out! That's a d-dear! I'm in no end of a +scrape. You'll do as I ask, now w-w-won't you?" + +Jimmy surrendered on the spot. + +"Now," said Annette, greatly relieved, "find out what time the d-down +train starts, and if it's on time." + +"It ought to start at three," reported Jimmy after consulting the +telegraph operator. "It's an hour late on account of the snow. +Expecting somebody?" + +She shook her head. + +"Going to the city yourself?" + +"Of course not. Whatever made you think that?" she cried with +unnecessary vehemence. Then, changing the subject abruptly, she added: +"G-guess who has come home?" + +"Who?" cried Jimmy, with palpitating ears. + +"Sandy Kilday. You never saw anybody look so g-grand. He's gotten to +be a regular swell, and he walks like this." + +Annette held her umbrella horizontally, squared her shoulders, and +swung bravely across the room. + +"Sandy Kilday?" gasped Jimmy, with a clutch at the letter in his +pocket. "Where's he at?" + +"He's trying to get up from the d-depot. He has been an hour coming +two squares. Everybody has stopped him, from Mr. Moseley on down to +the b-blacksmith's twins." + +"Is he coming this way?" asked Jimmy, wild-eyed and anxious. + +Annette stepped to the window. + +"Yes; they are crossing the street now." She opened the sash and, +snatching a handful of snow, rolled it into a ball, which she sailed +out of the window. It was promptly answered by one from below, which +whirled past her and shattered itself against the wall. + +"Dare, dare, double dare!" she called as she flung handfuls of loose +snow from the window-ledge. A quick volley of balls followed, then +the door burst open. Sandy and Ruth Nelson stood laughing on the +threshold. + +"Hello, partner!" sang out Sandy to Jimmy. "Still at the old work, I +see! Do you mind how you taught me to count the change when I first +sold stamps?" + +Jimmy tried to smile, but his effort was a failure. The interesting +tangle of facts and circumstances faded from his mind, and he resorted +instinctively to nature's first law. With an agitated countenance, he +sought self-preservation by waving Sandy's letter behind him in a +frantic effort to banish, if possible, the odor of his guilt. + +Sandy stayed at the door with Annette, but Ruth came to the window and +asked for her mail. When she smiled at the contrite Jimmy she +scattered the few remaining ideas that lingered in his brain. With +crimson face and averted eyes, he handed her the letter, forgetting +that telegrams existed. + +He saw her send a quick, puzzled glance from the letter to Sandy; he +saw her turn away from the door and tear open the envelop; then, to +his everlasting credit, he saw no more. + +When he ventured forth from behind his desk the office was empty. He +made a cautious survey of the premises; then, opening a back window, +he seized a small bottle by the neck and hurled it savagely against +the brick wall opposite. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +THE IRONY OF CHANCE + + +The snow, which had begun as an insignificant flurry in the morning, +developed into a storm by afternoon. + +Four miles from town, in a dreary stretch of country, a +dejected-looking object tramped along the railroad-track. His hat was +pulled over his eyes and his hands were thrust in his pockets. Now and +again he stopped, listened, and looked at his watch. + +It was Sandy Kilday, and he was waiting for the freight-train with the +fixed intention of committing suicide. + +The complications arising from Jimmy Reed's indiscretion had resulted +disastrously. When Sandy found that Ruth had read his letter, his +common sense took flight. Instead of a supplicant, he became an +invader, and stormed the citadel with such hot-headed passion and +fervor that Ruth fled in affright to the innermost chamber of her +maidenhood, and there, barred and barricaded, withstood the siege. + +His one desire in life now was to quit it. He felt as if he had read +his death-warrant, and it was useless ever again to open his eyes on +this gray, impossible world. + +He did not know how far he had come. Everything about him was strange +and unfriendly: the woods had turned to gaunt and gloomy skeletons +that shivered and moaned in the wind; the sunny fields of ragweed were +covered with a pall; and the river--his dancing, singing river--was a +black and sullen stream that closed remorselessly over the dying +snowflakes. His woods, his fields, his river,--they knew him not; he +stared at them blankly and they stared back at him. + +A rabbit, frightened at his approach, jumped out of the bushes and +went bounding down the track ahead of him. The sight of the round +little cottontail leaping from tie to tie brought a momentary +diversion; but he did not want to be diverted. + +With an effort he came back to his stern purpose. He forced himself to +face the facts and the future. What did it matter if he was only +twenty-one, with his life before him? What satisfaction was it to have +won first honors at the university? There was but one thing in the +world that made life worth living, and that was denied him. Perhaps +after he was gone she would love him. + +This thought brought remarkable consolation. He pictured to himself +her remorse when she heard the tragic news. He attended in spirit his +own funeral, and even saw her tears fall upon his still face. +Meanwhile he listened impatiently for the train. + +Instead of the distant rumble of the cars, he heard on the road below +the sound of a horse's hoofs, quickly followed by voices. Slipping +behind the embankment, he waited for the vehicle to pass. The horse +was evidently walking, and the voices came to him distinctly. + +"I'm not a coward--any s-such thing! We oughtn't to have c-come, in +the first place. I can't go with you. Please turn round, +C-Carter,--please!" + +There was no mistaking that high, childlike voice, with its faltering +speech. + +Sandy's gloomy frown narrowed to a scowl. What business had Annette +out there in the storm? Where was she going with Carter Nelson? + +He quickened his steps to keep within sight of the slow-moving buggy. + +"There's nothing out this road but the Junction," he thought, trying +to collect his wits. "Could they be taking the train there? He goes to +California in the morning, but where's he taking Nettie to-day? And +she didn't want to be going, either; didn't I hear her say it with her +own lips?" + +He moved cautiously forward, now running a few paces to keep up, now +crouching behind the bushes. Every sense was keenly alert; his eyes +never left the buggy for a moment. + +When the freight thundered up the grade, he stepped mechanically to +one side, keeping a vigilant eye on the couple ahead, and begrudging +the time he lost while the train went by. It was not until an hour +later that he remembered he had forgotten to commit suicide. + +Stepping back on the ties, he hurried forward. He was convinced now +that they meant to take the down train which would pass the Clayton +train at the Junction in half an hour. Something must be done to save +Annette. The thought of her in the city, at the mercy of the +irresponsible Carter, sent him running down the track. He waited until +he was slightly in advance before he descended abruptly upon them. + +Annette was sitting very straight, talking excitedly, and Carter was +evidently trying to reassure her. + +As Sandy plunged down the embankment, they started apart, and Carter +reached for the whip. Before he could urge the horse forward, Sandy +had swung himself lightly to the step of the buggy, and was leaning +back against the dash-board. He looked past Carter to Annette. She was +making a heroic effort to look unconcerned and indifferent, but her +eyelids were red, and her handkerchief was twisted into a damp little +string about her fingers. Sandy wasted no time in diplomacy; he struck +straight out from the shoulder. + +"If it's doing something you don't want to, you don't have to, Nettie. +I'm here." + +Carter stopped his horse. + +"Will you get down?" he demanded angrily. + +"After you," said Sandy. + +Carter measured his man, then stepped to the ground. Sandy promptly +followed. + +"And now," said Carter, "you'll perhaps be good enough to explain what +you mean." + +Sandy still kept his hand on the buggy and his eyes on Annette; when +he spoke it was to her. + +"If it's your wish to go on, say the word." + +The tearful young person in the buggy looked very limp and miserable, +but declined to make any remarks. + +"Miss Fenton and I expect to be married this evening," said Carter, +striving for dignity, though his breath came short with excitement. +"We take the train in twenty minutes. Your interference is not only +impudent--it's useless. I know perfectly well who sent you: it was +Judge Hollis. He was the only man we met after we left town. Just +return to him, with my compliments, and tell him I say he is a meddler +and a fool!" + +"Annette," said Sandy, softly, coming toward her, "the doctor'll be +wanting his coffee by now." + +"Let me pass," cried Carter, "you common hound! Take your foot off +that step or I'll--" He made a quick motion toward his hip, and Sandy +caught his hand as it closed on a pearl-handled revolver. + +"None of that, man! I'll be going when I have her word. Is it good-by, +Annette? Must I be taking the word to your father that you've left him +now and for always? Yes? Then a shake of the hand for old times' +sake." + +Annette slipped a cold little hand into his free one, and feeling the +solid grasp of his broad palm, she clung to it as a drowning man +clings to a spar. + +"I can't go!" she cried, in a burst of tears. "I can't leave dad this +way! Make him take me b-back, Sandy! I want to go home!" + +Carter stood very still and white. His thin body was trembling from +head to foot, and the veins stood out on his forehead like whip-cord. +He clenched his hands in an effort to control himself. At Annette's +words he stepped aside with elaborate courtesy. + +"You are at perfect liberty to go with Mr. Kilday. All I ask is that +he will meet me as soon as we get back to town." + +"I can't go b-back on the train!" cried Annette, with a glance at her +bags and boxes. "Every one would suspect something if I did. Oh, why +d-did I come?" + +"My buggy is at your disposal," said Carter; "perhaps your +disinterested friend, Mr. Kilday, could be persuaded to drive you +back." + +"But, Carter," cried Annette, in quick dismay, "you must come, too. +I'll bring dad r-round; I always do. Then we can be married at home, +and I can have a veil and a r-ring and presents." + +She smiled at him coaxingly, but he folded his arms and scowled. + +"You go with me to the city, or you go back to Clayton with him. You +have just three minutes to make up your mind." + +[Illustration: "Sandy saw her waver"] + +Sandy saw her waver. The first minute she looked at him, the second at +Carter. He took no chances on the third. With a quick bound, he was +in the buggy and turning the horse homeward. + +"But I've decided to go with Carter!" cried Annette, hysterically. +"Turn b-back, Sandy! I've changed my mind." + +"Change it again," advised Sandy as he laid the whip gently across the +horse's back. + +Carter Nelson flung furiously off to catch the train for town, while +the would-be bride shed bitter tears on the shoulder of the would-be +suicide. + +The snow fell faster and faster, and the gray day deepened to dusk. +For a long time they drove along in silence, both busy with their own +thoughts. + +Suddenly they were lurched violently forward as the horse shied at +something in the bushes. Sandy leaned forward in time to see a figure +on all fours plunging back into the shrubbery. + +"Annette," he whispered excitedly, "did you see that man's face?" + +"Yes," she said, clinging to his arm; "don't leave me, Sandy!" + +"What did he look like? Tell me, quick!" + +"He had little eyes like shoe-buttons, and his teeth stuck out. Do you +suppose he was hiding?" + +"It was Ricks Wilson, or I am a blind man!" cried Sandy, standing up +in the buggy and straining his eyes in the darkness. + +"Why, he's in jail!" + +"May I never trust me two eyes to speak the truth again if that wasn't +Ricks!" + +When they started they found that the harness was broken, and all +efforts to fix it were in vain. + +"It's half-past five now," cried Annette. "If I don't get home +b-before dad, he'll have out the fire department." + +"There's a farm-house a good way back," said Sandy; "but it's too far +for you to walk. Will you be waiting here in the buggy until I go for +help?" + +"Well, I guess not!" said Annette, indignantly. + +Sandy looked at the round baby face beside him and laughed. "It's not +one of meself that blames you," he said; "but how are we ever to get +home?" + +Annette was not without resources. + +"What's the matter with riding the horse b-back to the farm?" + +"And you?" asked Sandy. + +"I'll ride behind." + +They became hilarious over the mounting, for the horse bitterly +resented a double burden. + +When he found he could not dispose of it he made a dash for freedom, +and raced over the frozen road at such a pace that they were soon at +their destination. + +"He won the handicap," laughed Sandy as he lifted his disheveled +companion to the ground. + +"It was glorious!" cried Annette, gathering up her flying locks. "I +lost every hair-pin but one." + +At the farm-house they met with a warm reception. + +"Jes step right in the kitchen," said the farmer. "Mommer'll take +care of you while I go out to the stable for some rope and another +hoss." + +The kitchen was a big, cheerful room, full of homely comfort. Bright +red window-curtains were drawn against the cold white world outside, +and the fire crackled merrily in the stove. + +Sandy and Annette stood, holding out their hands to the friendly +warmth. She was watching with interest the preparations for supper, +but he had grown silent and preoccupied. + +The various diversions of the afternoon had acted as a temporary +narcotic, through which he struggled again and again to wretched +consciousness. A surge of contempt swept over him that he could have +forgotten for a moment. He did not want to forget; he did not want to +think of anything else. + +"They smell awfully g-good," whispered Annette. + +"What?" + +"The hoe-cakes. I didn't have any dinner." + +"Neither did I." + +Annette looked up quickly. "What were you d-doing out there on the +track, Sandy?" + +The farmer's wife fortunately came to the rescue. + +"Hitch up yer cheers, you two, and take a little snack afore you go +out in the cold ag'in." + +Annette promptly accepted, but Sandy declared that he was not hungry. +He went to the window and, pulling back the curtain, stared out into +the night. Was all the rest of life going to be like this? Was that +restless, nervous, intolerable pain going to gnaw at his heart +forever? + +Meanwhile the savory odor of the hoe-cakes floated over his shoulder +and bits of the conversation broke in upon him. + +"Aw, take two or three and butter 'em while they are hot. Long +sweetening or short?" + +"Both," said Annette. "I never tasted anything so g-good. Sandy, +what's the matter with you? I never saw you when you weren't hungry +b-before. Look! Won't you try this s-sizzly one?" + +Sandy looked and was lost. He ate with a coming appetite. + +The farmer's wife served them with delighted zeal; she made trip after +trip from the stove to the table, pausing frequently to admire her +guests. + +"I've had six," said Annette; "do you suppose I'll have time for +another one?" + +"Lemme give you _both_ a clean plate and some pie," suggested the +eager housewife. + +Sandy looked at her and smiled. + +"I'll take the clean plate," he said, "and--and more hoe-cakes." + +When the farmer returned, and they rode back to the buggy, Annette +developed a sudden fever of impatience. She fidgeted about while the +men patched up the harness, and delayed their progress by her fire of +questions. + +After they started, Sandy leaned back in the buggy, lost in the fog +of his unhappiness. Off in the distance he could see the twinkling +lights of Clayton. One was apart from the rest; that was Willowvale. + +A sob aroused him. Annette, left to herself, had collapsed. He +patiently put forth a fatherly hand and patted her shoulder. + +"There, there, Nettie! You'll be all right in the morning." + +"I won't!" she declared petulantly. "You don't know anything ab-b-bout +being in love." + +Sandy surveyed her with tolerant sadness. Little her childish heart +knew of the depths through which he was passing. + +"Do you love him very much?" he asked. + +She nodded violently. "Better than any b-boy I was ever engaged to." + +"He's not worth it." + +"He is!" + +A strained silence, then he said: + +"Nettie, could you be forgiving me if I told you the Lord's truth?" + +"Don't you suppose dad's kept me p-posted about his faults? Why, he +would walk a mile to find out something b-bad about Carter Nelson." + +"He wouldn't have to. Nelson's a bad lot, Nettie. It isn't all his +fault; it's the price he pays for his blue blood. Your father's the +wise man to try to keep you from being his wife." + +"Everyb-body's down on him," she sobbed, "just because he has to +d-drink sometimes on account of his lungs. I didn't know you were so +mean." + +"Will you pass the word not to see him again before he leaves in the +morning?" + +"Indeed, I won't!" + +Sandy stopped the horse. "Then I'll wait till you do." + +She tried to take the lines, but he held her hands. Then she declared +she would walk. He helped her out of the buggy and watched her start +angrily forth. In a few minutes she came rushing back. + +"Sandy, you know I can't g-go by myself; I am afraid. Take me home." + +"And you promise?" + +She looked appealingly at him, but found no mercy. "You are the very +m-meanest boy I ever knew. Get me home before d-dad finds out, and +I'll promise anything. But this is the last word I'll ever s-speak to +you as long as I live." + +At half-past seven they drove into town. The streets were full of +people and great excitement prevailed. + +"They've found out about me!" wailed Annette, breaking her long +silence. "Oh, Sandy, what m-must I do?" + +Sandy looked anxiously about him. He knew that an elopement would not +cause the present commotion. "Jimmy!" He leaned out of the buggy and +called to a boy who was running past. "Jimmy Reed! What's the matter?" + +Jimmy, breathless and hatless, his whole figure one huge +question-mark, exploded like a bunch of fire-crackers. + +"That you, Sandy? Ricks Wilson's broke jail and shot Judge Hollis. It +was at half-past five. Dr. Fenton's been out there ever since. They +say the judge can't live till midnight. We're getting up a crowd to go +after Wilson." + +At the first words Sandy had sprung to his feet. "The judge shot! +Ricks Wilson! I'll kill him for that. Get out, Annette. I must go to +the judge. I'll be out to the farm in no time and back in less. Don't +you be letting them start without me, Jimmy." + +Whipping the already jaded horse to a run, he dashed through the +crowded streets, over the bridge, and out the turnpike. + +Ruth stood at one of the windows at Willowvale, peering anxiously out +into the darkness. Her figure showed distinctly against the light of +the room behind her, but Sandy did not see her. + +His soul was in a wild riot of grief and revenge. Two thoughts tore at +his brain: one was to see the judge before he died, and the other was +to capture Ricks Wilson. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +IN THE DARK + + +An ominous stillness hung over Hollis farm as Sandy ran up the avenue. +The night was dark, but the fallen snow gave a half-mysterious light +to the quiet scene. + +He stepped on the porch with a sinking heart. In the dimly lighted +hall Mr. Moseley and Mr. Meech kept silent watch, their faces grave +with apprehension. Without stopping to speak to them, Sandy hurried to +the door of the judge's room. Before he could turn the knob, Dr. +Fenton opened it softly and, putting his finger on his lips, came out, +cautiously closing the door behind him. + +"You can't go in," he whispered; "the slightest excitement might +finish him. He's got one chance in a hundred, boy; we've got to nurse +it." + +"Does he know?" + +"Never has known a thing since the bullet hit him. He was coming into +the sitting-room when Wilson fired through the window." + +"The black-hearted murderer!" cried Sandy. "I could swear I saw him +hiding in the bushes between here and the Junction." + +The doctor threw a side glance at Mr. Meech, then said significantly: + +"Have they started?" + +"Not yet. If there's nothing I can do for the judge, I'm going with +them." + +"That's right. I'd go, too, if I were not needed here. Wait a minute, +Sandy." His face looked old and worn. "Have you happened to see my +Nettie since noon?" + +"That I have, doctor. She was driving with me, and the harness broke. +She's home now." + +"Thank God!" cried the doctor. "I thought it was Nelson." + +Sandy passed through the dining-room and was starting up the steps +when he heard his name spoken. + +"Mist' Sandy! 'Fore de Lawd, where you been at? Oh, we been habin' de +terriblest times! My pore old mas'r done been shot down wifout bein' +notified or nuthin'. Pray de Lawd he won't die! I knowed somepin' was +gwine happen. I had a division jes 'fore daybreak; dey ain't no luck +worser den to dream 'bout a tooth fallin' out. Oh, Lordy! Lordy! I +hope he ain't gwine die!" + +"Hush, Aunt Melvy! Where's Mrs. Hollis?" + +"She's out in de kitchen, heatin' water an' waitin' on de doctor. She +won't let me do nuthin'. Seems lak workin' sorter lets off her +feelin's. Pore Miss Sue!" She threw her apron over her head and swayed +and sobbed. + +As Sandy tried to pass, she stopped him again, and after looking +furtively around she fumbled in her pocket for something which she +thrust into his hand. + +"Hit's de pistol!" she whispered. "I's skeered to give it to nobody +else, 'ca'se I's skeered dey'd try me for a witness. He done drap it +'longside de kitchen door. You won't let on I found it, honey? You +won't tell nobody?" + +He reassured her, and hastened to his room. Lighting his lamp, he +hurriedly changed his coat for a heavier, and was starting in hot +haste for the door when his eyes fell upon the pistol, which he had +laid on the table. + +It was a fine, pearl-handled revolver, thirty-eight caliber. He looked +at it closer, then stared blankly at the floor. He had seen it before +that afternoon. + +"Why, Carter must have given Ricks the pistol," he thought. "But +Carter was out at the Junction. What time did it happen?" + +He sat on the side of the bed and, pressing his hands to his temples, +tried to force the events to take their proper sequence. + +"I don't know when I left town," he thought, with a shudder; "it must +have been nearly four when I met Carter and Annette. He took the train +back. Yes, he would have had time to help Ricks. But I saw Ricks out +the turnpike. It was half-past five, I remember now. The doctor said +the judge was shot at a quarter of six." + +A startled look of comprehension flashed over his face. He sprang to +his feet and tramped up and down the small room. + +"I know I saw Ricks," he thought, his brain seething with excitement. +"Annette saw him, too; she described him. He couldn't have even driven +back in that time." + +He stopped again and stood staring intently before him. Then he took +the lamp and slipped down the back stairs and out the side door. + +The snow was trampled about the window and for some space beyond it. +The tracks had been followed to the river, the eager searchers keeping +well away from the tell-tale footsteps in order not to obliterate +them. Sandy knelt in the snow and held his lamp close to the single +trail. The print was narrow and long and ended in a tapering toe. +Ricks's broad foot would have covered half the space again. He jumped +to his feet and started for the house, then turned back irresolute. + +When he entered his little room again the slender footprints had been +effaced. He put the lamp on the bureau, and looked vacantly about him. +On the cushion was pinned a note. He recognized Ruth's writing, and +opened it mechanically. + +There were only three lines: + + I must see you again before I leave. Be sure to come to-night. + +The words scarcely carried a meaning to him. It was her brother that +had shot the judge--the brother whom she had defended and protected +all her life. It would kill her when she knew. And he, Sandy Kilday, +was the only one who suspected the truth. A momentary temptation +seized him to hold his peace; if Ricks were caught, it would be time +enough to tell what he knew; if he escaped, one more stain on his name +might not matter. + +But Carter, the coward, where was he? It was his place to speak. Would +he let Ricks bear his guilt and suffer the blame? Such burning rage +against him rose in Sandy that he paced the room in fury. + +Then he re-read Ruth's note and again he hesitated. What a heaven of +promise it opened to him! Ruth was probably waiting for him now. +Everything might be different when he saw her again. + +All his life he had followed the current; the easy way was his way, +and he came back to it again and again. His thoughts shifted and +formed and shifted again like the bits of color in a kaleidoscope. + +Presently his restless eyes fell on an old chromo hanging over the +mantel. It represented the death-bed of Washington. The dying figure +on the bed recalled that other figure down-stairs. In an instant all +the floating forms in his brain assumed one shape and held it. + +The judge must be his first consideration. He had been shot down +without cause, and might pay his life for it. There was but one thing +to do: to find the real culprit, give him up, and take the +consequences. + +Slipping the note in one pocket and the revolver in another, he +hurried down-stairs. + +On the lowest step he found Mrs. Hollis sitting in the dark. Her hands +were locked around her knees, and hard, dry sobs shook her body. + +In an instant he was down beside her, his arms about her. "He isn't +dead?" he whispered fearfully. + +Mrs. Hollis shook her head. "He hasn't moved an inch or spoken since +we put him on the bed. Are you going with the men?" + +"I'm going to town now," said Sandy, evasively. + +She rose and caught him by the arm. Her eyes were fierce with +vindictiveness. + +"Don't let them stop till they've caught him, Sandy. I hope they will +hang him to-night!" + +A movement in the sick-room called her within, and Sandy hurried out +to the buggy, which was still standing at the gate. + +He lighted the lantern and, throwing the robe across his knees, +started for town. The intense emotional strain under which he had +labored since noon, together with fatigue, was beginning to play +tricks with his nerves. Twice he pulled in his horse, thinking he +heard voices in the wood. The third time he stopped and got out. At +infrequent intervals a groan broke the stillness. + +He climbed the snake-fence and beat about among the bushes. The groan +came again, and he followed the sound. + +At the foot of a tall beech-tree a body was lying face downward. He +held his lantern above his head and bent over it. It was a man, and, +as he tried to turn him over, he saw a slight red stain on the snow +beneath his mouth. The figure, thus roused, stirred and tried to sit +up. As he did so, the light from Sandy's lantern fell full on the +dazed and swollen face of Carter Nelson. The two faced each other for +a space, then Sandy asked him sharply what he did there. + +"I don't know," said Carter, weakly, sinking back against the tree. +"I'm sick. Get me some whisky." + +"Wake up!" said Sandy, shaking him roughly. "This is Kilday--Sandy +Kilday." + +Carter's eyes were still closed, but his lip curled contemptuously. +"_Mr._ Kilday," he said, and smiled scornfully. "The least said about +_Mr._ Kilday the better." + +Sandy laid a heavy hand on his shoulder. + +"Nelson, listen! Do you remember going out to the Junction with +Annette Fenton?" + +"That's nobody's business but mine. I'll shoot the--" + +"Do you remember coming home on the train?" + +Carter's stupid, heavy eyes were on Sandy now, and he was evidently +trying to understand what he was saying. "Home on the train? Yes; I +came home on train." + +"And afterward?" demanded Sandy, kneeling before him and looking +intently in his eyes. + +"Gus Heyser's saloon, and then--" + +"And then?" repeated Sandy. + +Carter shook his head and looked about him bewildered. + +"Where am I now I What did you bring me here for?" + +"Look me straight, Nelson," said Sandy. "Don't you move your eyes. You +left Gus Heyser's and came out the pike to the Hollis farm, didn't +you?" + +"Hollis farm?" Carter repeated vaguely. "No; I didn't go there." + +"You went up to the window and waited. Don't you remember the snow on +the ground and the light inside the window?" + +Carter seemed struggling to remember, but his usually sensitive face +was vacant and perplexed. + +Sandy moved nearer. "You waited there by the window," he went on with +subdued excitement, for the hope was high in his heart that Carter +was innocent. "You waited ever so long, until a pistol was fired--" + +"Yes," broke in Carter, his lips apart; "a pistol-shot close to my +head! It woke me up. I ran before they could shoot me again. Where was +it--Gus Heyser's? What am I doing here?" + +For answer Sandy pulled Carter's revolver from his pocket. "Did you +have that this afternoon?" + +"Yes," said Carter, a troubled look coming into his eyes. "Where did +you get it, Kilday?" + +"It was found outside Judge Hollis's window after he had been shot." + +"Judge Hollis shot! Who did it?" + +Sandy again looked at the pistol. + +"My God, man!" cried Carter; "you don't mean that I--" He cowered back +against the tree and shook from head to foot. "Kilday!" he cried +presently, seizing Sandy by the wrist with his long, delicate hands, +"does any one else know?" + +Sandy shook his head. + +"Then I must get away; you must help me. I didn't know what I was +doing. I don't know now what I have done. Is he--" + +"He's not dead yet." + +Carter struggled to his feet, but a terrible attack of coughing seized +him, and he sank back exhausted. The handkerchief which he held to his +mouth was red with blood. + +Sandy stretched him out on the snow, where he lay for a while with +closed eyes. He was very white, and his lips twitched convulsively. + +A vehicle passed out the road, and Sandy started up. He must take some +decisive step at once. The men were probably waiting in the square for +him now. He must stop them at any cost. + +Carter opened his eyes, and the terror returned to them. + +"Don't give me up, Kilday!" he cried, trying to rise. "I'll pay you +anything you ask. It was the drink. I didn't know what I was doing. +For the Lord's sake, don't give me up! I haven't long to live at +best. I can't disgrace the family. I--I am the last of the line--last +Nelson--" His voice was high and uncontrolled, and his eyes were +glassy and fixed. + +Sandy stood before him in an agony of indecision. He had fought it out +with himself there in his bedroom, and all personal considerations +were swept from his mind. All he wanted now was to do right. But what +was right? He groped blindly about in the darkness of his soul, and no +guiding light showed him the way. + +With a groan, he knotted his fingers together and prayed the first +real prayer his heart had ever uttered. It was wordless and formless, +just an inarticulate cry for help in the hour of need. + +The answer came when he looked again at Carter. Something in the +frenzied face brought a sudden recollection to his mind. + +"We can't judge him by usual standards; he's bearing the sins of his +fathers. We have to look on men like that as we do on the insane." +They were the judge's own words. + +Sandy jumped to his feet, and, helping and half supporting Carter, +persuaded him to go out to the buggy, promising that he would not give +him up. + +At the Willowvale gate he led the horse into the avenue, then turned +and ran at full speed into town. As he came into the square he found +only a few groups shivering about the court-house steps, discussing +the events of the day. + +"Where's the crowd?" he cried breathless. "Aren't they going to start +from here?" + +An old negro pulled off his cap and grinned. + +"Dey been gone purty near an hour, Mist' Sandy. I 'spec' dey's got dat +low-down rascal hanged by now." + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +AT WILLOWVALE + + +There was an early tea at Willowvale that evening, and Ruth sat at the +big round table alone. Mrs. Nelson always went to bed when the time +came for packing, and Carter was late, as usual. + +Ruth was glad to be alone. She had passed through too much to be able +to banish all trace of the storm. But though her eyes were red from +recent tears, they were bright with anticipation. Sandy was coming +back. That fact seemed to make everything right. + +She leaned her chin on her palm and tried to still the beating of her +heart. She knew he would come. Irresponsible, hot-headed, impulsive +as he was, he had never failed her. She glanced impatiently at the +clock. + +"Miss Rufe, was you ever in love?" It was black Rachel who broke in +upon her thoughts. She was standing at the foot of the table, her +round, good-humored face comically serious. + +"No-yes. Why, Rachel?" stammered Ruth. + +"I was just axin'," said Rachel, "'cause if you been in love, you'd +know how to read a love-letter, wouldn't you, Miss Rufe?" + +Ruth smiled and nodded. + +"I got one from my beau," went on Rachel, in great embarrassment; "but +dat nigger knows I can't read." + +"Where does he live?" asked Ruth. + +"Up in Injianapolis. He drives de hearse." + +Ruth suppressed a smile. "I'll read the love-letter for you," she +said. + +Rachel sat down on the floor and began taking down her hair. It was +divided into many tight braids, each of which was wrapped with a bit +of shoe-string. From under the last one she took a small envelope and +handed it to Ruth. + +"Dat's it," she said. "I was so skeered I'd lose it I didn't trust it +no place 'cept in my head." + +Ruth unfolded the note and read: + + "DEAR RACHEL: I mean biznis if you mean biznis send me fore + dollars to git a devorce. + + "_George_." + +Rachel sat on the floor, with her hair standing out wildly and anxiety +deepening on her face. + +"I ain't got but three dollars," she said. + +"I was gwine to buy my weddin' dress wif dat." + +"But, Rachel," protested Ruth, in laughing remonstrance, "he has one +wife." + +"Yes,'m. Pete Lawson ain't got no wife; but he ain't got but one arm, +neither. Whicht one would you take, Miss Rufe?" + +"Pete," declared Ruth. "He's a good boy, what there is of him." + +"Well, I guess I better notify him to-night," sighed Rachel; but she +held the love-letter on her knee and regretfully smoothed its crumpled +edges. + +Ruth pushed back her chair from the table and crossed the wide hall to +the library. + +It was a large room, with heavy wainscoting, above which simpered or +frowned a long row of her ancestors. + +She stepped before the one nearest her and looked at it long and +earnestly. The face carried no memory with it, though it was her +father. It was the portrait of a handsome man in uniform, in the full +bloom of a dissipated youth. Her mother had seldom spoken of him, and +when she did her eyes filled with tears. + +A few feet farther away hung a portrait of her grandfather, brave in a +high stock and ruffled shirt, the whole light of a bibulous past +radiating from the crimson tip of his incriminating nose. + +Next him hung Aunt Elizabeth, supercilious, arrogant, haughty. Ruth +recalled a tragic day of her past when she was sent to bed for +climbing upon the piano and pasting a stamp on the red-painted lips. + +She glanced down the long line: velvets, satins, jewels, and uniforms, +and, above them all, the same narrow face, high-arched nose, brilliant +dark eyes, and small, weak mouth. + +On the table was a photograph of Carter. Ruth sighed as she passed it. +It was a composite of all the grace, beauty, and weakness of the +surrounding portraits. + +She went to the fire and, sitting down on an ottoman, took two +pictures from the folds of her dress. One was a miniature in a small +old-fashioned locket. It was a grave, sweet, motherly face, singularly +pure and childlike in its innocence. Ruth touched it with reverent +fingers. + +"They say I am like her," she whispered to herself. + +Then she turned to the other picture in her lap. It was a cheap +photograph with an ornate border. Posed stiffly in a photographer's +chair, against a background which represented a frightful storm at +sea, sat Sandy Kilday. His feet were sadly out of focus, and his head +was held at an impossible angle by the iron rest which stood like a +half-concealed skeleton behind him. He wore cheap store-clothes, and a +turn-down collar which rested upon a ready-made tie of enormous +proportions. It was a picture he had had taken in his first new +clothes soon after coming to Clayton. Ruth had found it in an old book +of Annette's. + +How crude and ludicrous the awkward boy looked beside the elegant +figures on the walls about her! She leaned nearer the fire to get the +light on the face, then she smiled with a sudden rush of tenderness. + +The photographer had done his worst for the figure, but even an +unskilled hand and a poor camera had not wholly obliterated the +fineness of the face. Spirit, honor, and strength were all there. The +eyes that met hers were as fine and fearless as her own, and the +honest smile that hovered on his lips seemed to be in frank amusement +at his own sorry self. + +Ruth turned to see that the door was closed, then she put the picture +to her cheek, which was crimson in the firelight, and with hesitating +shyness gradually drew it to her lips and held it there. + +A noise of wheels in the avenue brought her to her feet with a little +start of joy. He had come, and she was possessed of a sudden desire to +run away. But she waited, with glad little tremors thrilling her and +her heart beating high. She was sure she heard wheels. She went to the +window, and, shading her eyes, looked out. A buggy was standing at the +gate, but no one got out. + +A sudden apprehension seized her, and she hurried into the hail and +opened the front door. + +"Carter," she called softly out into the night--"Carter, is it you?" + +There was no answer, and she came back into the hall and closed the +door. On each side of the door was a panel of leaded glass, and she +pressed her face to one of the little square panes, and peered +anxiously out. The light from the newel-post behind her emphasized the +darkness, so that she could distinguish only the dim outline of the +buggy. + +Twice she touched the knob before she turned it again; then she +resolutely gathered her long white dress in her hand, and passed down +the broad stone steps. The wind blew sharply against her, and the +pavement was cold to her slippered feet. + +"Carter," she called again and again--"Carter, is it you?" + +At the gate her scant supply of courage failed. Some one was in the +buggy, half lying, half sitting, with his face turned from her. She +looked back to the light in the cabin, where the servants would hear +if she called. Then the thought of any one else seeing Carter as she +had seen him before drove the fear back, and she resolutely opened the +gate and went forward. + +At her first touch Carter started up wildly and pushed her from him. +"You said you wouldn't give me up; you promised," he said. + +"I know it, Carter. I'll help you, dear. Don't be so afraid! Nobody +shall see you. Put your arm on my shoulder--there! Step down a little +farther!" + +With all her slight strength she supported and helped him, the keen +wind blowing her long, thin dress about them both, and the lace +falling back from her arms, leaving them bare to the elbow. + +Half-way up the walk he broke away from her and cried out: "I'll have +to go away. It's dangerous for me to stay here an hour." + +"Yes, Carter dear, I know. The doctor says it's the climate. We are +going early in the morning. Everything's packed. See how cold I am +getting out here! You'll come in with me now, won't you?" + +Coaxing and helping him, she at last succeeded in getting him to bed. +The blood on his handkerchief told its own story. + +She straightened the room, drew a screen between him and the fire, +and then went to the bed, where he had already fallen into a deep +sleep. Sinking on her knees beside him, she broke into heavy, silent +sobs. The one grief of her girlhood had been the waywardness of her +only brother. From childhood she had stood between him and blame, +shielding him, helping him, loving him. She had fought valiantly +against his weakness, but her meager strength had been pitted against +the accumulated intemperance of generations. + +She chafed his thin wrists, which her fingers could span; she tenderly +smoothed his face as it lay gray against the pillows; then she caught +up his hand and held it to her breast with a quick, motherly gesture. + +"Take him soon, God!" she prayed. "He is too weak to try any more." + +At midnight she slipped away to her own room and took off the dainty +gown she had put on for Sandy's coming. + +For long hours she lay in her great canopied bed with wide-open eyes. +The night was a noisy one, for there was a continual passing on the +road, and occasional shouts came faintly to her. + +With heavy heart she lay listening for some sound from Carter's room. +She was glad he was home. It was worse to sit up in bed and listen for +the wheels to turn in at the gate, to start at every sound on the +road, and to wait and wait through the long night. She could scarcely +remember the time when she had not waited for Carter at night. + +Once, long ago, she had confided her secret to one of her uncles, and +he had laughed and told her that boys would be boys. After that she +had kept things to herself. + +There was but one other person in the world to whom she had spoken, +and that was Sandy Kilday. As she looked back it seemed to her there +was nothing she had withheld from Sandy Kilday. Nothing? Sandy's face, +as she had last seen it, despairing, reckless, hopeless, rose before +her. But she had asked him to come back, she was ready to surrender, +she could make him understand if she could only see him. + +Why had he not come? The question multiplied itself into numerous +forms and hedged her in. Was he too angry to forgive her? Had her +seeming indifference at last killed his love? Why had he not sent her +a note or a message? He knew that she was to leave on the early train, +that there would be no chance to speak with her alone in the morning. + +A faint streak of misty light shone through the window. She watched it +deepen to rose. + +By and by Rachel came in to make the fire. She tiptoed to the bed and +peeped through the curtains. + +"You 'wake, Miss Rufe? Dey's been terrible goings on in town last +night! Didn't you hear de posse goin' by?" + +"What was it? What's the matter?" cried Ruth, sitting up in bed. + +"Dat jail-bird Wilson done shot Jedge Hollis. 'Mos' ebery man in town +went out to ketch him. Dey been gone all night." + +"Sandy went with them," thought Ruth, in sudden relief; then she +thought of the judge. + +"Oh, Rachel, is he dangerously hurt? Will he die?" + +"De las' accounts was mighty bad. Dey say de big doctors is a-comin' +up from de city to prode fer de bullet." + +"What made him shoot him? How could he be so cruel, when the dear old +judge is so good and kind to everybody?" + +"Jes pore white trash, dat Wilson," said Rachel, contemptuously, as +she coaxed the kindling into a blaze. + +Ruth got up and dressed. Beneath the deep concern which she felt was +the flutter of returning hope. Sandy's first duty was to his +benefactor. She knew how he loved the old judge and with what prompt +action he would avenge his wrong. She could trust him to follow honor +every time. + +"Some ob 'em 's comin' back now!" cried Rachel from the window. "I's +gwine down to de road an' ax 'em if dey ketched him." + +"Rachel, wait! I'm coming, too. Give me my traveling-coat--there on +the trunk. What can I put on my head? My hat is in auntie's room." + +Rachel, rummaging in the closet, brought forth an old white +tam-o'-shanter. "That will do!" cried Ruth. "Now, don't make any +noise, but come." + +They tiptoed through the house and out into the early morning. It was +still half dark, and the big-eyed poplars watched them suspiciously as +they hurried down to the road. Every branch and twig was covered with +ice, and the snow crackled under their feet. + +"I 'spec' it's gwine be summer-time where you gwine at, Miss Rufe," +said Rachel. + +"I don't care," cried Ruth. "I don't want to be anywhere in the world +except right here." + +"Dey're comin'," announced Rachel. "I hear de hosses." + +Ruth leaned across the top bar of the gate, her figure enveloped in +her long coat, and her white tam a bright spot in the half-light. + +On came the riders, three abreast. + +"Dat's him in de middle," whispered Rachel, excitedly; "next to de +sheriff. I's s'prised dey didn't swing him up--I shorely is. He's +hangin' down his head lak he's mighty 'shamed." + +Ruth bent forward to get a glimpse of the prisoner's face, and as she +did so he lifted his head. + +It was Sandy Kilday, his clothes disheveled, his brows lowered, and +his lips compressed info a straight, determined line. + +Ruth's startled gaze swept over the riders, then came back to him. She +did not know what was the matter; she only knew that he was in +trouble, and that she was siding with him against the rest. In the one +moment their eyes met she sent him her full assurance of compassion +and sympathy. It was the same message a little girl had sent years +ago over a ship's railing to a wretched stowaway on the deck below. + +The men rode on, and she stood holding to the gate and looking after +them. + +"Here comes Mr. Sid Gray," said Rachel. The approaching rider drew +rein when he saw Ruth and dismounted. + +"Tell me what's happened!" she cried. + +He hitched his horse and opened the gate. He, too, showed signs of a +hard night. + +"May I come in a moment to the fire?" he asked. + +She led the way to the dining-room and ordered coffee. + +"Now tell me," she demanded breathlessly. + +"It's a mixed-up business," said Gray, holding his numb hands to the +blaze. "We left here early in the night and worked on a wrong trail +till midnight. Then a train-man out at the Junction gave us a clue, +and we got a couple of bloodhounds and traced Wilson as far as +Ellersberg." + +"Go on!" said Ruth, shuddering. + +"You see, a rumor got out that the judge had died. We didn't say +anything before the sheriff, but it was understood that Ricks wouldn't +be brought back to town alive. We located him in an old barn. We +surrounded it, and were just about to fire it when Kilday came tearing +up on horseback." + +"Yes?" cried Ruth. + +"Well," he went on, "he hadn't started with us, and he had been riding +like mad all night to overtake the crowd. His horse dropped under him +before he could dismount. Kilday jumped out in the crowd and began to +talk like a crazy man. He said we mustn't harm Ricks Wilson; that +Ricks hadn't shot the judge, for he was sure he had seen him out the +Junction road about half-past five. We all saw it was a put-up job; he +was Ricks Wilson's old pal, you know." + +"But Sandy Kilday wouldn't lie!" cried Ruth. + +"Well, that's what he did, and worse. When we tried to close in on +Wilson, Kilday fought like a tiger. You never saw anything like the +mix-up, and in the general skirmish Wilson escaped." + +"And--and Sandy?" Ruth was leaning forward, with her hands clasped and +her lips apart. + +"Well, he showed what he was, all right. He took sides with that +good-for-nothing scoundrel who had shot a man that was almost his +father. Why, I never saw such a case of ingratitude in my life!" + +"Where are they taking him?" she almost whispered. + +"To jail for resisting an officer." + +"Miss Rufe, de man's come fer de trunks. Is dey ready?" asked Rachel +from the hall. + +Ruth rose and put her hand on the back of the chair to steady herself. + +"Yes; yes, they are ready," she said with an effort. "And, Rachel, +tell the man to go as quietly as possible. Mr. Carter must not be +disturbed until it is time to start." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +"THE SHADOW ON THE HEART" + + +Just off Main street, under the left wing of the court-house, lay the +little county jail. It frowned down from behind its fierce mask of +bars and spikes, and boldly tried to make the town forget the number +of prisoners that had escaped its walls. + +In a small front cell, beside a narrow grated window, Ricks Wilson had +sat and successfully planned his way to freedom. + +The prisoner who now occupied the cell spent no time on thoughts of +escape. He paced restlessly up and down the narrow chamber, or lay on +the cot, with his hands under his head, and stared at the grimy +ceiling. The one question which he continually put to the jailer was +concerning the latest news of Judge Hollis. + +Sandy had been given an examining trial on the charge of resisting an +officer and assisting a prisoner to escape. Refusing to tell what he +knew, and no bail being offered, he was held to answer to the grand +jury. For two weeks he had seen the light of day only through the +deep, narrow opening of one small window. + +At first he had had visitors--indignant, excited visitors who came in +hotly to remonstrate, to threaten, to abuse. Dr. Fenton had charged in +upon him with a whole battery of reproaches. In stentorian tones he +rehearsed the judge's kindness in befriending him, he pointed out his +generosity, and laid stress on Sandy's heinous ingratitude. Mr. +Moseley had arrived with arguments and reasons and platitudes, all +expressed in a polysyllabic monotone. Mr. Meech had come many times +with prayers and petitions and gentle rebuke. + +To them all Sandy gave patient, silent audience, wincing under the +blame, but making no effort to defend himself. All he would say was +that Ricks Wilson had not done the shooting, and that he could say no +more. + +A wave of indignation swept the town. Almost the only friend who was +not turned foe was Aunt Melvy. Her large philosophy of life held that +all human beings were "chillun," and "chillun was bound to act bad +sometimes." She left others to struggle with Sandy's moral welfare and +devoted herself to his physical comfort. + +With a clear conscience she carried to her home flour, sugar, and lard +from the Hollises' store-room, and sat up nights in her little cabin +at "Who'd 'a' Thought It" to bake dumplings, rolls, and pies for her +"po' white chile." + +Sandy felt some misgivings about the delicacies which she brought, and +one day asked her where she made them. + +"I makes 'em out home," she declared stoutly. "I wouldn't cook nuffin' +fer you on Miss Sue's stove while she's talkin' 'bout you lak she is. +She 'lows she don't never want to set eyes on you ag'in as long as she +lives." + +"Has the judge asked for me?" said Sandy. + +"Yas, sir; but de doctor he up and lied. He tol' him you'd went back +to de umerversity. De doctor 'lowed ef he tole him de trufe it might +throw him into a political stroke." + +Sandy leaned his head on his hand. "You're the only one that's stood +by me, Aunt Melvy; the rest of them think me a bad lot." + +"Dat's right," assented Aunt Melvy, cheerfully. "You jes orter hear de +way dey slanders you! I don't 'spec' you got a friend in town 'ceptin' +me." Then, as if reminded of something, she produced a card covered +with black dots. "Honey, I's gittin' up a little collection fer de +church. You gib me a nickel and I punch a pin th'u' one ob dem dots to +sorter certify it." + +"Have you got religion yet?" he asked as he handed her some small +change. + +Her expression changed, and her eyes fell. "Not yit," she acknowledged +reluctantly; "but I's countin' on comin' th'u' before long. I's done +j'ined de Juba Choir and de White Doves." + +"The White Doves?" repeated Sandy. + +"Yas, sir; de White Doves ob Perfection. We wears purple calicoes and +sets up wid de sick." + +"Have you seen Miss Annette?" + +"Lor', honey! ain't I tol' you 'bout dat? De very night de jedge was +shot, dat chile wrote her paw de sassiest letter, sayin' she gwine run +off and git married wif dat sick boy, Carter Nelson. De doctor headed +'em off some ways, and de very nex' day what you think he done? He put +dat gal in a Cafolic nunnery convent! Dey say she cut up scan'lous at +fust, den she sorter quiet down, an' 'gin to count her necklace, an' +make signs on de waist ob her dress, an' say she lak it so much she +gwine be a Cafolic nunnery sister herself. Now de doctor's jes +tearin' his shirt to git her out, he's so skeered she'll do what she +says." + +Sandy laughed in spite of himself, and Aunt Melvy wagged her head +knowingly. + +"He needn't pester hisseif 'bout dat. Now Mr. Carter's 'bout to die, +an' you's shut up in jail, she's done turnin' her 'tention on Mr. Sid +Gray. Dey ain't no blinds in de world big enough to keep dat gal from +shinin' her eyes at de boys!" + +"Is Carter about to die?" Sandy had become suddenly grave. + +"Yas, sir; so dey say. He's got somepin' that sounds lak tuberoses. +Him and Mrs. Nelson and Miss Rufe never did git to Californy. Dey +stopped off in Mobile or Injiany, I can't ricollec' which. He took de +fever de day dey lef', an' he ain't knowed nothin' since." + +After Aunt Melvy left, Sandy went to the window and leaned against the +bars. Below him flowed the life of the little town, the men going home +from work, the girls chattering and laughing through the dusk on +their way from the post-office. Every figure that passed, black or +white, was familiar to him. Jimmy Reed's little Skye terrier dashed +down the street, and a whistle sprang to his lips. + +How he loved every living creature in the place! For five years he had +been one of them, sharing their interests, part and parcel of the life +of the community. Now he was an outcast, an alien, as much a stranger +to friendly faces as the lad who had knelt long ago at the window of a +great tenement and had been afraid to be alone. + +"I'll have to go away," he thought wistfully. "They'll not be wanting +me here after this." + +It grew darker and darker in the gloomy room. The mournful voice of a +negro singing in the next cell came to him faintly: + + "We'll hunt no moah fo' de possum and de coon, + On de medder, de hill, an' de shoah. + We'll sing no moah by de glimmer ob de moon, + On de bench by de old cabin doah. + + "De days go by like de shadow on do heart, + Wid sorrer, wha' all wuz so bright; + De time am come when do darkies hab to part-- + Den, my ole Kaintucky home, good night." + +Sandy's arm was against the grating and his head was bowed upon it. +Through all the hours of trial one image had sustained him. It was of +Ruth, as he had seen her last, leaning toward him out of the +half-light, her brown hair blowing from under her white cap and her +great eyes full of wondering compassion. + +But to-night the darkness obscured even that image. The judge's life +still hung in the balance, and the man who had shot him lay in a +distant city, unconscious, waiting for death. Sandy felt that by his +sacrifice he had put the final barrier between himself and Ruth. + +With a childish gesture of despair, he flung out his arms and burst +into a passion of tears. The intense emotional impulse of his race +swept him along like a feather in a gale. His grief, like his joy, +was elemental. + +When the lull came at last, he pressed his hot head against the cold +iron grating, and his thoughts returned again and again to Ruth. He +thought of her tender ministries in the sick room, of her intense love +and loyalty for her brother. His whole soul rose up to bless her, and +the thought of what she had been spared brought him peace. + +Through days of struggle and nights of pain he fought back all +thoughts of the future and of self. + +These times were ever afterward a twilight-place in his soul, hallowed +and sanctified by the great revelation they brought him, blending the +blackness of despair with the white light of perfect love. Here his +thoughts would often turn even in the stress and strain of the daily +life, as a devotee stops on his busy round and steps within the dim +cathedral to gain strength and inspiration on his way. + +The next time Aunt Melvy came he asked for some of his law-books, and +from that on there was no more idling or dreaming. + +Among the volumes she brought was the old note-book in which the judge +had made him jot down suggestions during those long evening readings +in the past. It was full of homely advice, the result of forty years' +experience, and Sandy found comfort in following it to the letter. + +For the first time in his life he learned the power of concentration. +Seven hours' study a day, without diversion or interruption, brought +splendid results. He knew the outline of the course at the university, +and he forged ahead with feverish energy. + +Meanwhile the judge's condition was slowly improving. + +One afternoon Sandy sat at his table, deep in his work. He heard the +key turn in its lock and the door open, but he did not look up. +Suddenly he was aware of the soft rustle of skirts, and, lifting his +eyes, he saw Ruth. For a moment he did not move, thinking she must be +but the substance of his dream. Then her black dress caught his +attention, and he started to his feet. + +"Carter?" he cried--"is he--" + +Ruth nodded; her face was white and drawn, and purple shadows lay +about her eyes. + +"He's dead," she whispered, with a catch in her voice; then she went +on in breathless explanation: "but he told me first. He said, 'Hurry +back, Ruth, and make it right. They can come for me as soon as I can +travel. Tell Kilday I wasn't worth it.' Oh, Sandy! I don't know +whether it was right or wrong,--what you did,--but it was merciful: if +you could have seen him that last week, crying all the time like a +little child, afraid of the shadows on the wall, afraid to be alone, +afraid to live, afraid to die--" + +Her voice broke, and she covered her face with her hands. + +Sandy started forward, then he paused and gripped the chair-back +until his fingers were white. + +"Ruth," he said impatiently, "you'd best be going quick. It'll break +the heart of me to see you standing there suffering, unless I can take +you in me arms and comfort you. I've sworn never to speak the word; +but, by the saints--" + +"You may!" sobbed Ruth, and with a quick, timid little gesture she +laid her hands in his. + +For a moment he held her away from him. "It's not pity," he cried, +searching her face, "nor gratitude!" + +She lifted her eyes, as honest and clear as her soul. + +"It's been love, Sandy," she whispered, "ever since the first." + +[Illustration: "'It's been love, Sandy, ... ever since the first'"] + +Two hours later, when the permit came, Sandy walked out of the jail +into the court-house square. A crowd had collected, for Ruth had told +her story and the news had spread; public favor was rapidly turning in +his direction. + +He looked about vaguely, as a man who has gazed too long at the sun +and is blinded to everything else. + +"I've got my buggy," cried Jimmy Reed, touching him on the arm. "Where +do you want to go?" + +Sandy hesitated, and a dozen invitations were shouted in one breath. +He stood irresolute, with his foot on the step of the buggy; then he +pulled himself up. + +"To Judge Hollis," he said. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +THE PRIMROSE WAY + + +Spring and winter, and spring again, and flying rumors fluttered +tantalizing wings over Clayton. Just when it was definitely announced +that Willowvale was to be sold, Ruth Nelson returned, after a year's +absence, and opened the old home. + +Mrs. Nelson did not come with her. That excellent lady had concluded +to bestow her talents upon a worthier object. In her place came Miss +Merritt, a quiet little sister of Ruth's mother, who proved to be to +the curious public a pump without a handle. + +About this time Sandy Kilday returned from his last term at the +university, and gossip was busy over the burden of honors under which +he staggered, and the brilliance of the position he had accepted in +the city. In prompt contradiction of this came the shining new sign, +"Hollis & Kilday," which appeared over the judge's dingy little +office. + +Nobody but Ruth knew what that sign had cost Sandy. He had come home, +fresh from his triumphs, and burning with ambition to make his way in +the world,--to make a name for her to share, and a record for her to +be proud of. The opportunity that had been offered him was one in a +lifetime. It had taken all his courage and strength and loyalty to +refuse it, but Ruth had helped him. + +"We must think of the judge first, Sandy," she said. "While he lives +we must stay here; there'll be time enough for the big world after a +while." + +So Sandy gave up his dream for the present and tacked the new sign +over the office door with his own hand. + +The old judge watched him from the pavement. "That's right," he said, +rubbing his hands together with childish satisfaction; "that's just +about the best-looking sign I ever saw!" + +"If you ever turn me down in court I'll stand it on its head and make +my own name come first," threatened Sandy; and the judge repeated the +joke to every one he saw that day. + +It was not long until the flying rumors settled down into positive +facts, and Clayton was thrilled to its willow-fringed circumference. +There was to be a wedding! Not a Nelson wedding of the olden times, +when a special car brought grand folk down from the city, and the +townspeople stayed apart and eyed their fine clothes and gay behavior +with ill-concealed disfavor. This was to be a Clayton wedding for high +and low, rich and poor. + +There was probably not a shutter opened in the town, on the morning of +the great day, that some one did not smile with pleasure to find that +the sun was shining. + +Mrs. Hollis woke Sandy with the dawn, and insisted upon helping him +pack his trunk before breakfast. For a week she had been absorbed in +his nuptial outfit, jealously guarding his new clothes, to keep him +from wearing them all before the wedding. + +Aunt Melvy was half an hour late in arriving, for she had tarried at +"Who'd 'a' Thought It" to perform the last mystic rites over a +rabbit's foot which was to be her gift to the groom. + +The whole town was early astir and wore a holiday air. By noon +business was virtually abandoned, for Clayton was getting ready to go +to the wedding. + +Willowvale extended a welcome to the world. The wide front gates stood +open, the big-eyed poplars beamed above the oleanders and the myrtle, +while the thrushes and the redwings twittered and caroled their +greetings from on high. The big white house was open to the sunshine +and the spring; flowers filled every nook and corner; even the +rose-bush which grew outside the dining-room window sent a few +venturesome roses over the sill to lend their fragrance to those +within. + +And such a flutter of expectancy and romance and joy as pervaded the +place! All the youth of Clayton was there, loitering about the grounds +in gay little groups, or lingering in couples under the shadow of the +big porches. + +In the library Judge and Mrs. Hollis did the honors, and presented the +guests to little Miss Merritt, whose cordial, homely greetings +counteracted the haughty disapproval of the portraits overhead. + +Mr. Moseley rambled through the rooms, indulging in a flowing +monologue which was as independent of an audience as a summer brook. + +Mr. Meech sought a secluded spot under the stairway and nervously +practised the wedding service, while Mrs. Meech, tucked up for once in +her life, smiled bravely on the company, and thought of a little green +mound in the cemetery, which Sandy had helped her keep bright with +flowers. + +They were all there, Dr. Fenton slapping everybody on the back and +roaring at his own jokes; Sid Gray carrying Annette's flowers with a +look of plump complacency; Jimmy Reed constituting himself a bureau of +information, giving and soliciting news concerning wedding presents, +destination of wedding journey, and future plans. + +Up-stairs, at a hall window, the groom was living through rapturous +throes of anticipation. For the hundredth time he made sure the ring +was in the left pocket of his waistcoat. + +From down-stairs came the hum of voices mingled with the music. The +warm breath of coming summer stole through the window. + +Sandy looked joyously out across the fields of waving blue-grass to +the shining river. Down by the well was an old windmill, and at its +top a weather-vane. When he spied it he smiled. Once again he was a +ragged youngster, back on the Liverpool dock; the fog was closing in, +and the coarse voices of the sailors rang in his ears. In quick +flashes the scenes of his boyhood came before him,--the days on +shipboard, on the road with Ricks, at the Exposition, at Hollis Farm, +at the university,--and through them all that golden thread of romance +that had led him safe and true to the very heart of the enchanted land +where he was to dwell forever. + +"'Fore de Lawd, Mist' Sandy, ef you ain't fergit yer necktie!" + +It was Aunt Melvy who burst in upon his reverie with these ominous +words. She had been expected to assist with the wedding breakfast, but +the events above-stairs had proved too alluring. + +Sandy's hand flew to his neck. "It's at the farm," he cried in great +excitement, "wrapped in tissue-paper in the top drawer. Send Jim, or +Joe, or Nick--any of the darkies you can find!" + +"Send nuthin'," muttered Aunt Melvy, shuffling down the stairs. "I's +gwine myself, ef I has to take de bridal kerridge." + +Messengers were sent in hot haste, one to the farm and one to town, +while Jimmy Reed was detailed to canvass the guests and see if a white +four-in-hand might be procured. + +"The nearest thing is Mr. Meech's," he reported on his fourth trip +up-stairs; "it's a white linen string-tie, but he doesn't want to take +it off." + +"Faith, and he'll have to!" said Sandy, in great agitation. "Don't he +know that nobody will be looking at him?" + +Annette appeared at a bedroom door, a whirl of roses and pink. + +"What's the m-matter? Ruth will have a f-fit if you wait much longer, +and my hair is coming out of curl." + +"Take it off him," whispered Sandy, recklessly, to Jimmy Reed; and +violence was prevented only by the timely arrival of Aunt Melvy with +the original wedding tie. + +The bridal march had sounded many times, and the impatient guests were +becoming seriously concerned, when a handkerchief fluttered from the +landing and Sandy and Ruth came down the wide white steps together. + +Mr. Meech cleared his throat and, with one hand nervously fidgeting +under his coattail, the other thrust into the bosom of his coat, +began: + +"We are assembled here to-day to witness the greatest and most +time-hallowed institution known to man." + +Sandy heard no more. The music, the guests, the flowers, even his +necktie, faded from his mind. + +A sacred hush filled his soul, through which throbbed the vows he was +making before God and man. The little hand upon his arm trembled, and +his own closed upon it in instant sympathy and protection. + +"In each of the ages gone," Mr. Meech was saying with increasing +eloquence, "man has wooed and won the sweet girl of his choice, and +then, with the wreath of fairest orange-blossoms encircling her pure +brow, while yet the blush of innocent love crimsoned her cheek, led +her away in trembling joy to the hymeneal altar, that their names, +their interests, their hearts, might all be made one, just as two rays +of light, two drops of dew, sometimes meet, to kiss--to part no more +forever." + +Suddenly a loud shout sounded from the upper hall, followed by sounds +like the repeated fall of a heavy body. Mr. Meech paused, and all eyes +were turned in consternation toward the door. Then through the +stillness rang out a hallelujah from above. + +"Praise de Lawd, de light's done come! De darkness, lak de thunder, +done roll away. I's saved at last, and my name is done written in de +Promised Land! Amen! Praise de Lawd! Amen!" + +To part of the company at least the situation was clear. Aunt Melvy, +after seeking religion for nearly sixty years, had chosen this +inopportune time to "come th'u'." + +She was with some difficulty removed to the wash-house, where she +continued her thanksgiving in undisturbed exultation. + +Amid suppressed merriment, the marriage service was concluded, Mr. +Meech heroically foregoing his meteoric finale. + +Clayton still holds dear the memory of that wedding: of the beautiful +bride and the happy groom, of the great feast that was served indoors +and out, and of the good fellowship and good cheer that made it a gala +day for the country around. + +When it was over, Sandy and Ruth drove away in the old town surrey, +followed by such a shower of rice and flowers and blessings as had +never been known before. They started, discreetly enough, for the +railroad-station, but when they reached the river road Sandy drew +rein. Overhead the trees met in a long green arch, and along the +wayside white petals strewed the road. Below lay the river, dancing, +murmuring, beckoning. + +"Let's not be going to the city to-day!" cried Sandy, impulsively. +"Let's be following the apple-blossoms wherever they lead." + +"It's all the same wherever we are," said Ruth, in joyful freedom. + +They turned into the road, and before them, through the trees, lay the +long stretch of smiling valley. + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SANDY*** + + +******* This file should be named 14079-8.txt or 14079-8.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/4/0/7/14079 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at <a href = "https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre> +<p>Title: Sandy</p> +<p>Author: Alice Hegan Rice</p> +<p>Release Date: November 18, 2004 [eBook #14079]</p> +<p>Language: English</p> +<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p> +<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SANDY***</p> +<p> </p> +<h3>E-text prepared by Rick Niles, Ronald Holder,<br /> + and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team</h3> +<p> </p> +<table border="0" cellpadding="10"> + <tr> + <td valign="top"> + Note: + </td> + <td align="left"> + Images of the original pages are available through Kentuckiana + Digital Library. See + <a href="http://kdl.kyvl.org/"> + http://kdl.kyvl.org/</a> + </td> + </tr> +</table> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 381px;"><img src= +"images/cover.gif" width="381" height="630" alt= +"Book Cover" /></div> +<p> </p> +<p><!-- Frontispiece --> </p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 444px;"><a name="fp" id= +"fp"></a> <img src="images/frontispc.gif" width="444" height="700" +alt= +"Illustration: Looking up, he saw a slender little girl in a long tan coat and a white tam-o-shanter" /> +</div> +<h1><!-- Title Page --> +SANDY</h1> +<h3>BY</h3> +<h2>ALICE HEGAN RICE</h2> +<h3>AUTHOR OF</h3> +<h3>"MRS. WIGGS OF THE CABBAGE PATCH"</h3> +<p> </p> +<h3>NEW YORK</h3> +<h6>THE CENTURY CO.</h6> +<h3>1905</h3> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<!-- Verso --> +<!-- Dedication --> +<p class="center">TO MY AUNT</p> +<h3>MISS MARY A. HEGAN</h3> +<p class="center">WHO USED TO TELL ME BETTER STORIES</p> +<p class="center">THAN I SHALL EVER WRITE</p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<!-- Table of Contents. --> +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> +<p> </p> +<p style="margin-left: 5em;"><b>CHAPTER</b></p> +<p> </p> +<p style="margin-left: 5em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_I">I THE +STOWAWAY</a></p> +<p style="margin-left: 5em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">II ON +SHIPBOARD</a></p> +<p style="margin-left: 5em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_III">III THE +CURSE OF WEALTH</a></p> +<p style="margin-left: 5em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">IV +SIDE-TRACKED</a></p> +<p style="margin-left: 5em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_V">V SANDY +RETIRES FROM BUSINESS</a></p> +<p style="margin-left: 5em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">VI HOLLIS +FARM</a></p> +<p style="margin-left: 5em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">VII +CONVALESCENCE</a></p> +<p style="margin-left: 5em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">VIII +AUNT MELVY AS A SOOTHSAYER</a></p> +<p style="margin-left: 5em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">IX +TRANSITION</a></p> +<p style="margin-left: 5em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_X">X +WATERLOO</a></p> +<p style="margin-left: 5em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">XI "THE +LIGHT THAT LIES"</a></p> +<p style="margin-left: 5em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_XII">XII +ANTICIPATION</a></p> +<p style="margin-left: 5em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">XIII +THE COUNTY FAIR</a></p> +<p style="margin-left: 5em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">XIV A +COUNCIL OF WAR</a></p> +<p style="margin-left: 5em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_XV">XV HELL +AND HEAVEN</a></p> +<p style="margin-left: 5em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">XVI THE +NELSON HOME</a></p> +<p style="margin-left: 5em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">XVII +UNDER THE WILLOWS</a></p> +<p style="margin-left: 5em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">XVIII +THE VICTIM</a></p> +<p style="margin-left: 5em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIX">XIX THE +TRIALS OF AN ASSISTANT POSTMASTER</a></p> +<p style="margin-left: 5em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_XX">XX THE +IRONY OF CHANCE</a></p> +<p style="margin-left: 5em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXI">XXI IN +THE DARK</a></p> +<p style="margin-left: 5em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXII">XXII AT +WILLOWVALE</a></p> +<p style="margin-left: 5em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIII">XXIII +"THE SHADOW ON THE HEART"</a></p> +<p style="margin-left: 5em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIV">XXIV +THE PRIMROSE WAY</a></p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<h2>LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> +<p> </p> +<p><a href="#fp">"Looking up, he saw a slender little girl in a +long tan coat and a white tam-o-shanter"</a> Frontispiece</p> +<p><a href="#i15">"He sent up yell after yell of victory for the +land of his adoption"</a></p> +<p><a href="#i77">"He smiled away his debt of gratitude"</a></p> +<p><a href="#i173">"Then he forgot all about the steps and counting +time"</a></p> +<p><a href="#i195">"Burning deeds of prowess rioted in his +brain"</a></p> +<p><a href="#i241">"Sandy saw her waver"</a></p> +<p><a href="#i297">"'It's been love, Sandy, ... ever since the +first'"</a></p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<!-- Page 1 (actual book page number)--> +<h2>SANDY</h2> +<!-- Page 2 --> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a> <!-- Page 3 --> +CHAPTER I</h2> +<p>THE STOWAWAY</p> +<p>An English mist was rolling lazily inland from the sea. It half +enveloped the two great ocean liners that lay tugging at their +moorings in the bay, and settled over the wharf with a grim +determination to check, as far as possible, the traffic of the +morning.</p> +<p>But the activity of the wharf, while impeded, was in no wise +stopped. The bustle, rattle, and shouting were, in fact, augmented +by the temporary interference. Everybody seemed in a hurry, and +everybody seemed out of temper, save a boy who lay at full length +on the quay and earnestly <!-- Page 4 --> +studied a weather-vane that was lazily trying to make up its mind +which way to point.</p> +<p>He was ragged and brawny and picturesque. His hands, bronzed by +the tan of sixteen summers, were clasped under his head, and his +legs were crossed, one soleless shoe on high vaunting its nakedness +in the face of an indifferent world. A sailor's blouse, two sizes +too large, was held together at the neck by a bit of red cambric, +and his trousers were anchored to their mooring by a heavy piece of +yellow twine. The indolence of his position, however, was not +indicative of the state of his mind; for under his weather-beaten +old cap, perched sidewise on a tousled head, was a commotion of +dreams and schemes, ambitions and plans, whose activities would +have put to shame the busiest wharf in the world.</p> +<p>"It's your show, Sandy Kilday!" he said, half aloud, with a bit +of a brogue that flavored his speech as the salt flavors the sea +air. "You don't want to be a bloomin' old weather-vane, a-changin' +your mind <!-- Page 5 --> +every time the wind blows. Is it go, or stay?"</p> +<p>The answer, instead of coming, got sidetracked by the train of +thought that descended upon him when he was actually face to face +with his decision. All sorts of memories came rushing pell-mell +through his brain. The cold and hungry ones were the most +insistent, but he brushed them aside.</p> +<p>The one he clung to longest was the earliest and most shadowy of +the lot. It was of a little white house on an Irish heath, and +inside was the biggest fireplace in the world, where crimson flames +went roaring up the big, dark chimney, and where witches and +fairies held high carnival. There was a big chair on each side the +hearth, and between them a tiny red rocker with flowers painted on +the arms of it. That was the clearest of all. There were persons in +the large chairs, one a silent Scotchman who, instinct told him, +must have been his father, and the other—oh, tricky memory +that faltered when he wanted it to be so clear!—was +<!-- Page 6 --> +the maddest, merriest little mother that ever came back to haunt a +lad. By holding tight to the memory he could see that her eyes were +blue like his own, but her hair was black. He could hear the ring +of her laugh as she told him Irish stories, and the soft drone of +her voice as she sang him old Irish songs. It was she who told him +about the fairies and witches that lived up behind the peat-flames. +He remembered holding her hand and putting his cheek against it +when the goblins came too near. Then the picture would go out, like +a picture in a magic-lantern show, and sometimes Sandy could make +it come back, and sometimes he could not.</p> +<p>After that came a succession of memories, but none of them held +the silent father and the merry mother and the little white house +on the heath. They were of new faces and new places, of temporary +homes with relatives in Ireland and Scotland, of various schools +and unceasing work. Then came the day, two years ago, when, goaded +by <!-- Page 7 --> +some injustice, real or imagined, he had run away to England and +struck out alone and empty-handed to care for himself. It had been +a rough experience, and there were days that he was glad to forget; +but through it all the taste of freedom had been sweet in his +mouth.</p> +<p>For three weeks he had been hanging about the docks, picking up +jobs here and there, accommodating any one who wanted to be +accommodated, making many friends and little money. He had had no +thought of embarking until the big English liner <i>Great +Britain</i> arrived in port after breaking all records on her +homeward passage. She was to start on her second trip to-day, and +an hour later her rival, the steamship <i>America</i>, was to take +her departure. The relative merits of the two vessels had been the +talk of the wharf for days.</p> +<p>Sandy had made it a rule in life to be on hand when anything was +happening. He had viewed cricket-matches from tree-tops, had +answered the call of fire at midnight, <!-- Page 8 --> +and tramped ten miles to see the finish of a great regatta. But +something was about to take place which seemed entirely beyond his +attainment. Two hours passed before he solved the problem.</p> +<p>"Takin' the rest-cure, kid?" asked a passing sailor as he shied +a stick at Sandy's shins.</p> +<p>Sandy stretched himself and smiled up at the sailor. It was a +smile that waited for an answer and usually got it—a smile so +brimming over with good-fellowship and confidence that it made a +lover of a friend and a friend of an enemy.</p> +<p>"It's a trip that I'm thinkin' of takin'," he cried blithely as +he jumped to his feet. "Here's the shillin' I owe you, partner, and +may the best luck ye've had be the worst luck that's comin'."</p> +<p>He tossed a coin to the sailor, and thrusting his hands in his +pockets, executed a brief but brilliant <i>pas seul</i>, and then +went whistling away down the wharf. He swung along right cheerily, +his rags fluttering, his <!-- Page 9 --> +chin in the air, for the wind had settled in one direction, and the +weather-vane and Sandy had both made up their minds.</p> +<p>The sailor looked after him fondly. "He's a bloomin' good little +chap," he said to a man near by. "Carries a civil tongue in his +head for everybody."</p> +<p>The man grunted. "He's too off and on," he said. "He'll never +come to naught."</p> +<p>Two days later, the <i>America</i>, cutting her way across the +Atlantic, carried one more passenger than she registered. In the +big life-boat swung above the hurricane-deck lay Sandy Kilday, +snugly concealed by the heavy canvas covering.</p> +<p>He had managed to come aboard under cover of the friendly fog, +and had boldly appropriated a life-boat and was doing light +housekeeping. The apartment, to be sure, was rather small and dark, +for the only light came through a tiny aperture where the canvas +was tucked back. At this end Sandy attended to his domestic +duties.</p> +<p><!-- Page 10 --> +Here were stored the fresh water and hardtack which the law +requires every life-boat to carry in case of an emergency. Added to +these was Sandy's private larder, consisting of several loaves of +bread, a bag of apples, and some canned meat. The other end of the +boat was utilized as a bedroom, a couple of life-preservers serving +as the bed, and his own bundle of personal belongings doing duty as +a pillow.</p> +<p>There were some drawbacks, naturally, especially to an +energetic, restless youngster who had never been in one place so +long before in his life. It was exceedingly inconvenient to have to +lie down or crawl; but Sandy had been used to inconveniences all +his life, and this was simply a difference in kind, not in degree. +Besides, he could steal out at night and, by being very careful and +still, manage to avoid the night watch.</p> +<p>The first night out a man and a girl had come up from the cabin +deck and sat directly under his hiding-place. At first he +<!-- Page 11 --> +was too much afraid of discovery to listen to what they were +saying, but later his interest outweighed his fear. For they were +evidently lovers, and Sandy was at that inflammable age when to +hear mention of love is dangerous and to see a manifestation of it +absolute contagion. When the great question came, his heart waited +for the answer. Perhaps it was the added weight of his unspoken +influence that turned the scale. She said yes. During the silence +that followed, Sandy, unable to restrain his joy, threw his arms +about a life-preserver and embraced it fervently.</p> +<p>When they were gone he crawled out to stretch his weary body. On +the deck he found a book which they had left; it was a green book, +and on the cover was a golden castle on a golden hill. All the rest +of his life he loved a green book best, for it was through this one +that he found his way back again to that enchanted land that lay +behind the peat-flames in the shadowy memory. Early in the morning +he read it, with his <!-- Page 12 --> +head on the box of hardtack and his feet on the water-can. Twice he +reluctantly tore himself from its pages and put it back where he +had found it. No one came to claim it, and it lay there, with the +golden castle shining in the sun. Sandy decided to take one more +peep.</p> +<p>It was all about gallant knights and noble lords, of damsels +passing fair, of tourneys and feasts and battles fierce and long. +Story after story he devoured, until he came to the best one of +all. It told of a beautiful damsel with a mantle richly furred, who +was girt with a cumbrous sword which did her great sorrow; for she +might not be delivered of it save by a knight who was of passing +good name both of his lands and deeds. And after that all the great +knights had striven in vain to draw the sword from its sheath, a +poor knight, poorly arrayed, felt in his heart that he might essay +it, but was abashed. At last, however, when the damsel was +departing, he plucked up courage to ask if he might try; and when +she hesitated <!-- Page 13 --> +he said: "Fair damsel, worthiness and good deeds are not only in +arrayment, but manhood and worship are hid within man's person." +Then the poor knight took the sword by the girdle and sheath and +drew it out easily.</p> +<p>And it was not until then that Sandy knew that he had had no +dinner, and that the sun had climbed over to the other side of the +steamer, and that a continual cheering was coming up from the deck +below. Cautiously he pulled back the canvas flap and emerged like +the head of a turtle from his shell. The bright sunshine dazzled +him for a moment, then he saw a sight that sent the dreams flying. +There, just ahead, was the <i>Great Britain</i> under full way, +valiantly striving to hold her record against the oncoming +steamer.</p> +<p>Sandy sat up and breathlessly watched the champion of the sea, +her smoke-stacks black against the wide stretch of shining waters. +The Union Jack was flying in insolent security from her flagstaff. +There <!-- Page 14 --> +were many figures on deck, and her music was growing louder every +minute. Inch by inch the <i>America</i> gained upon her, until they +were bow and bow. The crowd below grew wilder, cheers went up from +both steamers, the decks were white with the flutter of +handkerchiefs. Suddenly the band below struck up "The Star-Spangled +Banner." Sandy gave one triumphant glance at the Stars and Stripes +floating overhead, and in that moment became naturalized. He leaped +to his feet in the boat, and tearing the blouse from his back, +waved the tattered banner in the face of the vanquished <i>Great +Britain</i>, as he sent up yell after yell of victory for the land +of his adoption.</p> +<!-- Page 15 (Illustration) --> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 700px;"><a name="i15" id= +"i15"></a> <img src="images/026.gif" width="700" height="500" alt= +"Illustration: He sent up yell after yell of victory for the land of his adoption" /> +</div> +<!-- Page 16 (blank facing page) --> +<p>Then he was seized by the ankle and jerked roughly down upon the +deck. Over him stood the deck steward.</p> +<p>"You`re a rum egg for that old boat to hatch out," he said. "I +guess the cap'n will be wantin' to see you."</p> +<p>Sandy, thus peremptorily summoned <!-- Page 17 -->from the +height of patriotic frenzy, collapsed in terror. Had the deck +steward not been familiar with stowaways, he doubtless would have +been moved by the flood of eloquent persuasion which Sandy brought +to bear.</p> +<p>As it was, he led him ruthlessly down the narrow steps, past the +long line of curious passengers, then down again to the steerage +deck, where he deposited him on a coil of rope and bade him stay +there until he was sent for.</p> +<p>Here Sandy sat for the remainder of the afternoon, stared at +from above and below, an object of lively curiosity. He bit his +nails until the blood came, and struggled manfully to keep back the +tears. He was cold, hungry, and disgraced, and his mind was full of +sinister thoughts. Inch by inch he moved closer to the railing.</p> +<p>Suddenly something fell at his feet. It was an orange. Looking +up, he saw a slender little girl in a long tan coat and a white +tam-o'-shanter leaning over the railing. He <!-- Page 18 -->only +knew that her eyes were brown and that she was sorry for him, but +it changed his world. He pulled off his cap, and sent her such an +ardent smile of gratitude that she melted from the railing like a +snowflake under the kiss of the sun.</p> +<p>Sandy ate the orange and took courage. Life had acquired a new +interest.</p> +<p> </p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<!-- Page 19 --> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II</h2> +<p>ON SHIPBOARD</p> +<p>The days that followed were not rose-strewn. Disgrace sat +heavily upon the delinquent, and he did penance by foregoing the +joys of society. Menial labor and the knowledge that he would not +be allowed to land, but would be sent back by the first steamer, +were made all the more unbearable by his first experience with +illness. He had accepted his fate and prepared to die when the +ship's surgeon found him.</p> +<p>The ship's surgeon was cruel enough to laugh, but he persuaded +Sandy to come back to life. He was a small, white, round little +man; and when he came rolling down the deck in his white linen +suit, his face beaming <!-- Page 20 --> +from its white frame of close-cropped hair and beard, he was not +unlike one of his own round white little pills, except that their +sweetness stopped on the outside and his went clear through.</p> +<p>He discovered Sandy lying on his face in the passageway, his +right hand still dutifully wielding the scrub-brush, but his spirit +broken and his courage low.</p> +<p>"Hello!" he exclaimed briskly; "what's your name?"</p> +<p>"Sandy Kilday."</p> +<p>"Scotch, eh?"</p> +<p>"Me name is. The rest of me's Irish," groaned Sandy.</p> +<p>"Well, Sandy, my boy, that's no way to scrub. Come out and get +some air, and then go back and do it right."</p> +<p>He guided Sandy's dying footsteps to the deck and propped him +against the railing. That was when he laughed.</p> +<p>"Not much of a sailor, eh?" he quizzed. "You'll be all right +soon; we have been getting the tail-end of a big nor'wester."</p> +<p>"<!-- Page 21 -->A happy storm it must have been, sir, to wag +its tail so gay," said Sandy, trying to smile.</p> +<p>The doctor clapped him on the back. "You're better. Want +something to eat?"</p> +<p>Sandy declined with violence. He explained his feelings with all +the authority of a first experience, adding in conclusion: "It was +Jonah I used to be after feelin' sorry for; it ain't now. It's the +whale."</p> +<p>The doctor prevailed upon him to drink some hot tea and eat a +sandwich. It was a heroic effort, but Sandy would have done even +more to prolong the friendly conversation.</p> +<p>"How many more days have we got, sir?"</p> +<p>"Five; but there's the return trip for you."</p> +<p>Sandy's face flushed. "If they send me home, I'll be comin' +back!" he cried, clinging to the railing as the ship lurched +forward. "I'm goin' to be an American. I <!-- Page 22 --> +am goin'—" Further declarations as to his future policy were +cut short.</p> +<p>From that time on the doctor took an interest in him. He even +took up a collection of clothes for him among the officers. His +professional services were no longer necessary, for Sandy enjoyed a +speedy recovery from his maritime troubles.</p> +<p>"You are luckier than the rest," he said, one day, stopping on +his rounds. "I never had so many steerage patients before."</p> +<p>The work was so heavy, in fact, that he obtained permission to +get a boy to assist him. The happy duty devolved upon Sandy, who +promptly embraced not only the opportunity, but the doctor and the +profession as well. He entered into his new work with such energy +and enthusiasm that by the end of the week he knew every man below +the cabin deck. So expeditious did he become that he found many +idle moments in which to cultivate acquaintances.</p> +<p>His chosen companion at these times was a boy in the steerage, +selected not for congeniality, <!-- Page 23 --> +but for his unlimited knowledge of all things terrestrial, from the +easiest way of making a fortune to the best way of spending it. He +was a short, heavy-set fellow of some eighteen years. His hair grew +straight up from an overhanging forehead, under which two small +eyes seemed always to be furtively watching each other over the +bridge of his flat snub nose. His lips met with difficulty across +large, irregular teeth. Such was Ricks Wilson, the most +unprepossessing soul on board the good ship <i>America</i>.</p> +<p>"You see, it's this way," explained Ricks as the boys sat behind +the smokestack and Sandy became initiated into the mysteries of a +wonderful game called "craps." "I didn't have no more 'n you've +got. I lived down South, clean off the track of ever'thing. I puts +my foot in my hand and went out and seen the world. I tramps up to +New York, works my way over to England, tramps and peddles, and +gits enough dough to pay my way back. <!-- Page 24 --> +Say, it's bum slow over there. Why, they ain't even on to +street-cars in London! I makes more in a week at home than I do in +a month in England. Say, where you goin' at when we land?"</p> +<p>Sandy shook his head ruefully. "I got to go back," he said.</p> +<p>Ricks glanced around cautiously, then moved closer.</p> +<p>"You ain't that big a sucker, are you? Any feller that couldn't +hop the twig offen this old boat ain't much, that's all I got to +say."</p> +<p>"Oh, it's not the gettin' away," said Sandy, more certain than +ever, now that he was sure of an ally.</p> +<p>"Homesick?" asked Ricks, with a sneer.</p> +<p>Sandy gave a short laugh. "Home? Why, I ain't got any home. I've +just lived around since I was a young one. It's a chance to get on +that I'm after."</p> +<p>"Well, what in thunder is takin' you back?"</p> +<p>"I don't know," said Sandy, "'cep'n' it <!-- Page 25 --> +ain't in me to give 'em the slip now I know 'em. Then there's the +doctor "</p> +<p>"That old feather-bed? O Lord! He's so good he gives me a pain. +Goes round with his mouth hiked up in a smile, and I bet he's as +mean as the "</p> +<p>Before Hicks could finish he found himself inextricably tangled +in Sandy's arms and legs, while that irate youth sat upon him and +pommeled him soundly.</p> +<p>"So it's the good doctor ye'd be after blasphemin' and abusin' +and makin' game of! By the powers, ye'll take it back! Speak one +time more, and I'll make you swaller the lyin' words, if I have to +break every bone in your skin!"</p> +<p>There was an ugly look in Ricks's face as he threw the smaller +boy off, but further trouble was prevented by the appearance of the +second mate.</p> +<p>Sandy hurried away to his duties, but not without an anxious +glance at the upper deck. He had never lost an opportunity, since +that first day, of looking up; but this was the <!-- Page 26 --> +first time that he was glad she was not there. Only once had he +caught sight of a white tam and a tan coat, and that was when they +were being conducted hastily below by a sympathetic stewardess.</p> +<p>But Sandy needed no further food for his dreams than he already +had. On sunny afternoons, when he had the time, he would seek a +secluded corner of the deck, and stretching himself on the boards +with the green book in his hand, would float in a sea of sentiment. +The fact that he had decided to study medicine and become a ship's +surgeon in no wise interfered with his fixed purpose of riding +forth into the world on a cream-white charger in search of a damsel +in distress.</p> +<p>So thrilled did he become with the vision that he fell to making +rhymes, and was surprised to find that the same pair of eyes always +rhymed with skies and they were brown.</p> +<p>Sometimes, at night, a group would gather on the steerage deck +and sing. A <!-- Page 27 --> +black-haired Italian, with shirt open at the throat, would strike a +pose and fling out a wild serenade; or a fat, placid German would +remove his pipe long enough to troll forth a mighty drinking-song. +Whenever the air was a familiar one, the entire circle joined in +the chorus. At such times Sandy was always on hand, singing with +the loudest and telling his story with the best.</p> +<p>"Make de jolly little Irish one to sing by hisself!" called a +woman one night from the edge of the crowd. The invitation was +taken up and repeated on every side. Sandy, laughing and +protesting, was pushed to the front. Being thus suddenly forced +into prominence, he suffered an acute attack of stage fright.</p> +<p>"Chirp up there now and give us a tune!" cried some one behind +him.</p> +<p>"Can't ye remember none?" asked another.</p> +<p>"Sure," said Sandy, laughing sheepishly; "but they all come +wrong end first."</p> +<p>Some one had thrust an old guitar in his <!-- Page 28 --> +hands, and he stood nervously picking at the strings. He might have +been standing there still had not the moon come to his rescue. It +climbed slowly out of the sea and sent a shimmer of silver and gold +over the water, across the deck, and into his eyes. He forgot +himself and the crowd. The stream of mystical romance that flows +through the veins of every true Irishman was never lacking in +Sandy. His heart responded to the beautiful as surely as the echo +answers the call.</p> +<p>He seized the guitar, and picking out the notes with clumsy, +faltering fingers, sang:</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"><span>"Ah! The moment was sad when my love and +I parted,<br /></span> <span class="i2">Savourneen deelish, signan +O!"<br /></span></div> +</div> +<p>His boyish voice rang out clear and true, softening on the +refrain to an indescribable tenderness that steeped the old song in +the very essence of mystery and love.</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"><span>"As I kiss'd off her tears, I was nigh +broken-hearted! <br /></span> <span class="i2">Savourneen +deelish, signan O!"<br /></span></div> +</div> +<p><!-- Page 29 --> +He could remember his mother singing him to sleep by it, and the +bright red of her lips as they framed the words:</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"><span>"Wan was her cheek which hung on my +shoulder;<br /></span> <span>Chill was her hand, no marble was +colder;<br /></span> <span>I felt that again I should never behold +her;<br /></span> <span class="i2">Savourneen deelish, signan +O!"<br /></span></div> +</div> +<p>As the song trembled to a close, a slight burst of applause came +from the cabin deck. Sandy looked up, frowned, and bit his lip. He +did not know why, but he was sorry he had sung.</p> +<p>The next morning the <i>America</i> sailed into New York harbor, +band playing and flags flying. She was bringing home a record and a +jubilant crew. On the upper decks passengers were making merry over +what is probably the most joyful parting in the world. In the +steerage all was bustle and confusion and anticipation of the +disembarking.</p> +<p>Eagerly, wistfully watching it all, stood Sandy, as alert and +distressed as a young <!-- Page 30 --> +hound restrained from the hunt. It is something to accept +punishment gracefully, but to accept punishment when it can be +avoided is nothing short of heroism. Sandy had to shut his eyes and +grip the railing to keep from planning an escape. Spread before him +in brave array across the water lay the promised land and, +like Moses, he was not to reach it.</p> +<p>"That's the greatest city in America," said the ship's surgeon +as he came up to where he was standing. "What do you think of +it?"</p> +<p>"I never seen one stand on end afore!" exclaimed Sandy, +amazed.</p> +<p>"Would you like to go ashore long enough to look about?" asked +the doctor, with a smile running around the fat folds of his +cheeks.</p> +<p>"And would I?" asked Sandy, his eyes flying open. "It's me word +of honor I'd give you that I'd come back."</p> +<p>"The word of a stowaway, eh?" asked the doctor, still +smiling.</p> +<p><!-- Page 31 --> +In a moment Sandy's face was crimson. "Whatever I be, sir, I ain't +a liar!"</p> +<p>The doctor pursed up his lips in comical dismay: "Not so hot, my +man; not so hot! So you still want to be a doctor?"</p> +<p>Sandy cooled down sufficiently to say that it was the one +ambition of his life.</p> +<p>"I know the physician in charge of the City Hospital here in New +York. He's a good fellow. He'd put you through give you work +and put you in the way of going to the Medical School. You'd like +that?"</p> +<p>"But," cried Sandy, bewildered but hopeful, "I have to go +back!"</p> +<p>The doctor shook his head. "No, you don't. I've paid your +passage."</p> +<p>Sandy waited a moment until the full import of the words was +taken in, then he grabbed the stout little doctor and almost lifted +him off his feet.</p> +<p>"Oh! But ain't you a brick!" he cried fervently, adding +earnestly: "It ain't a present you're makin' me, though! I'll pay +it back, so help me bob!"</p> +<p><!-- Page 32 -->At the pier the crowd of immigrants pushed and +crowded impatiently as they waited for the cabin passengers to go +ashore. Among them was Sandy, bareheaded and in motley garb, +laughing and shoving with the best of them, hanging over the +railing, and keeping up a fire of merriment at the expense of the +crowd below. In his hand was a letter of recommendation to the +physician in charge at the City Hospital, and in his inside pocket +a ten-dollar bill was buttoned over a heart that had not a care in +the world. In the great stream of life Sandy was one of the bubbles +that are apt to come to the top.</p> +<p>"You better come down to Kentucky with me," urged Ricks Wilson, +resuming an old argument. "I'm goin' to peddle my way back home, +then git a payin' job at the racetrack."</p> +<p>"Wasn't I tellin' ye that it was a doctor I'm goin' to be?" +asked Sandy, impatiently. Already Ricks's friendship was proving +irksome.</p> +<p><!-- Page 33 --> +On the gang-plank above him the passengers were leaving the ship. +Some delay had arisen, and for a moment the procession halted. +Suddenly Sandy caught his breath. There, just above him, stood "the +damsel passing fair." Instead of the tam-o'-shanter she wore a big +drooping hat of brown, which just matched the curls that were +loosely tied at the back of her neck.</p> +<p>Sandy stood motionless and humbly adored her. He was a born +lover, lavishing his affection, without discrimination or +calculation, upon whatever touched his heart. It surely was no harm +just to stand aside and look. He liked the way she carried her +head; he liked the way her eyes went up a little at the outer +corners, and the round, soft curve of her chin. She was gazing +steadfastly ahead of her down the gang-plank, and he ventured a +step nearer and continued his observations. As he did so, he made a +discovery. The soft white of her cheek was gradually becoming +pinker and pinker; the color which began under <!-- Page 34 --> +her lace collar stole up and up until it reached her eyes, which +still gazed determinedly before her.</p> +<p>Sandy admired it as a traveler admires a sunrise, and with as +little idea of having caused it.</p> +<p>The line of passengers moved slowly forward, and his heart sank. +Suddenly his eyes fell upon the little hand-bag which she carried. +On one end, in small white letters, was: "Ruth Nelson, Kentucky, +U.S.A." He watched her until she was lost to view, then he turned +eagerly back into the crowd. Elbowing his way forward, he seized +Ricks by the arm.</p> +<p>"Hi, there!" he cried; "I've changed me mind. I'm goin' with you +to Kentucky!"</p> +<p>So this impetuous knight errant enlisted under the +will-o'-the-wisp love, and started joyously forth upon his +quest.</p> +<p> </p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<!-- Page 35 --> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III</h2> +<p>THE CURSE OF WEALTH</p> +<p>It is an oft-proved adage that for ten who can stand adversity +there is but one who can stand prosperity. Sandy, alas! was no +exception to any rule which went to prove the frailty of human +nature. The sudden acquisition of ten dollars cast him into a +whirlpool of temptation from which he made little effort to +escape.</p> +<p>"I ain't goin' on to-day," announced Ricks. "I'm goin' to lay in +my goods for peddlin'. I reckon you kin come along of me."</p> +<p>Sandy accepted a long and strong cigar, tilted his hat, and +unconsciously caught Ricks's slouching gait as they went down +<!-- Page 36 -->the street. After all, it was rather pleasant to +associate with sophistication.</p> +<p>"We'll git on the outside of a little dinner," said Ricks; "and +I'll mosey round in the stores awhile, then I'll take you to a show +or two. It's a mighty good thing for you that you got me +along."</p> +<p>Sandy thought so too. He cheerfully stood treat for the rest of +the day, and felt that it was small return for Ricks's +condescension.</p> +<p>"How much you got left?" asked Ricks, that night, as they +stopped under a street light to take stock.</p> +<p>Sandy held out a couple of dollars and a fifty-cent piece.</p> +<p>"Enough to put on the eyes of two and a half dead men," he said +as he curiously eyed the strange money.</p> +<p>"One, two, two and a half," counted Ricks.</p> +<p>"Shillings?" asked Sandy, amazed.</p> +<p>Ricks nodded.</p> +<p>"And have I blowed all that to-day?"</p> +<p><!-- Page 37 --> +"What of it?" asked Ricks. "I seen a bloke onct what lit his cigar +with a bill like the one you had!"</p> +<p>"But the doctor said it was two pounds," insisted Sandy, +incredulously. He did not realize the expense of a personally +conducted tour of the Bowery.</p> +<p>"Well, it's went," said Ricks, resignedly. "You can't count on +settin' up biz with what's left."</p> +<p>Sandy's brows clouded, and he shifted his position restlessly. +"Now I ax yerself, Ricks, what'u'd you do?" he said.</p> +<p>"Me? I don't give advice to nobody. But effen it was me I'd know +mighty quick what to do."</p> +<p>"What?" said Sandy, eagerly.</p> +<p>"Buy a dawg."</p> +<p>"A dog? I ain't goin' blind."</p> +<p>"Lor'! but you're a softhorn," said Ricks, contemptuously. "I +s'pose you'd count on leadin' him round by a pink ribbon."</p> +<p>"Oh, you mean a fighter?"</p> +<p><!-- Page 38 --> +"Sure. My last dawg could do ever'thing in sight. She was so game +she went after herself in a lookin'-glass and got kilt. Oh, they's +money in dawgs, and I knows how to make 'em win ever' time."</p> +<p>Sandy, tired as he was from the day's excitement, insisted upon +going in search of one at once. He already had visions of becoming +the proud owner of a canine champion that would put him immediately +into the position of lighting his cigar with a two-pound note.</p> +<p>The first three weeks of their experience on the road went far +to realize their expectations. The bulldog, which had been bought +in partnership, proved a conquering hero. Through the long summer +days the boys tramped over the country, peddling their wares, and +by night they conducted sundry unlawful encounters wherever an +opponent could be found.</p> +<p>Sandy enjoyed the peddling. It was astonishing what friendly +sociability and confidential intimacy were established by the +<!-- Page 39 --> +sale of blue suspenders and pink soap. He left a line of smiling +testimonials in his wake.</p> +<p>But if the days were proving satisfactory, so much could not be +said of the nights. Even the phenomenal luck that followed his dog +failed to keep up his enthusiasm.</p> +<p>"You ain't a nachrul sport," complained Ricks. "That's your +trouble. When the last fight was on, you set on the fence and +listened at a' ole idiot scrapin' a fiddle down in the valley."</p> +<p>Sandy made a feeble defense, but he knew in his soul it was +so.</p> +<p>Affairs reached a climax one night in an old barn on the +outskirts of a town. A fight was about to begin when Sandy +discovered Ricks judiciously administering a sedative to the +enemy's dog.</p> +<p>Then understanding dawned upon him, and his rage was elemental. +With a valor that lacked the better part of discretion, he hurled +himself through the crowd and fell upon Ricks.</p> +<p><!-- Page 40 --> +An hour later, bruised, bloody, and vanquished, he stumbled along +through the dreary night. Hot with rage and defeat, utterly +ignorant of his whereabouts, his one friend turned foe, he was +indeed in sorry plight.</p> +<p>He climbed over the fence and lay face downward in the long, +cool grass, stretching his bruised and aching body along the +ground. A gentle night wind rustled above him, and by and by a star +peeped out, then another and another. Before he knew it, he was +listening to the frogs and katydids, and wondering what they were +talking about. He ceased to think about Ricks and his woes, and +gave himself up to the delicious, drowsy peace that was all about +him. For, child of nature that he was, he had turned to the only +mother he knew.</p> +<p> </p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<!-- Page 41 --> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2> +<p>SIDE-TRACKED</p> +<p>The next morning, at the nearest railroad station, an irate +cattleman was trying to hire some one to take charge of a car of +live stock which was on its way to a great exposition in a +neighboring city. The man he had counted on had not appeared, and +the train was about due.</p> +<p>As he was turning away in desperation he felt a tug at his +elbow. Looking around, he saw a queer figure with a countenance +that resembled a first attempt at a charcoal sketch from life: one +cheek was larger than the other, the mouth was sadly out of +drawing, the eyes shone out from among the bruises like the sun +from behind the clouds. <!-- Page 42 --> +But if the features were disfigured, the smile was none the less +courageous.</p> +<p>Sandy had found a friendly sympathizer at a neighboring +farm-house, had been given a good breakfast, had made his toilet, +and was ready for the next round in the fight of life.</p> +<p>"I'll be doin' yer job, sir, whatever it is," he said +pleasantly.</p> +<p>The man eyed him with misgiving, but his need was urgent.</p> +<p>"All you have to do is to stay in the car and look after the +cattle. My man will meet you when you reach the city. Do you think +you can do it?"</p> +<p>"Just keep company with the cows?" cried Sandy. "Sure and I +can!"</p> +<p>So the bargain was struck, and that night found him in the great +city with a dollar in his pocket and a promise of work in the +morning.</p> +<p>Tired and sore from the experiences of the night before, he +sought a cheap lodging-house near by. A hook-nosed woman, carrying +<!-- Page 43 --> +a smoking lamp, conducted him to a room under the eaves. It was +small and suffocating. He involuntarily lifted his hands and +touched the ceiling.</p> +<p>"It's like a boilin' potato I feel," he said; "and the pot's so +little and the lid so tight!"</p> +<p>He went to the window, and taking out the nail that held down +the sash, pushed it up. Below him lay the great, bustling city, +cabs and cars in constant motion, long lines of blazing lights +marking the thoroughfares, the thunder of trains in the big +station, and above and below and through it all a dull monotonous +roar, like the faraway unceasing cry of a hungry beast.</p> +<p>He sank on his knees by the window, and a restless, nervous look +came into his eyes.</p> +<p>"It presses in, too," he thought. "It's all crowdin' over me. +I'm just me by myself, all alone." A tear made a white course down +his grimy cheek, then another and another. He brushed them +impatiently away with the cap he still held in his hand.</p> +<p><!-- Page 44 --> +Rising abruptly, he turned away from the window, and the hot air of +the room again smote him. The smoking lamp had blackened the +chimney, and as he bent to turn it down, he caught his reflection +in a small mirror over the table. What the bruises and swelling had +left undone the cheap mirror completed. He started back. Was that +the boy he knew as himself? Was that Sandy Kilday who had come to +America to seek his fortune? He stared in a sort of fascinated +horror at that other boy in the mirror. Before he had been afraid +to be by himself, now he was afraid of himself.</p> +<p>He seized his cap, and blowing out the lamp, plunged down four +flights of steep narrow steps and out into the street. A number of +people were crowding into a street-car marked "Exposition." Sandy, +ever a straw in the current, joined them. Once more down among his +fellow-men, he began to feel more comfortable. He cheerfully paid +his entrance fee with one of the two silver coins in his +pocket.</p> +<p><!-- Page 45 --> +The first building he entered was the art gallery, and the first +picture that caught his eye held him spellbound. He sat before it +all the evening with fascinated eyes, devouring every detail and +oblivious to the curious interest he was attracting; for the huge +canvas represented the Knights of the Round Table, and he had at +last found friends.</p> +<p>All the way back he thought about the picture; it was not until +he reached his room that the former loneliness returned.</p> +<p>But even then it was not for long. A pair of yellow eyes peered +around the window-sill, and a plaintive "meow" begged for +admittance. It was plainly Providence that guided that thin and +ill-treated kitten to Sandy's window. The welcome it received must +have completely restored its shaken faith in human nature. Tired as +he was, Sandy went out and bought some milk. He wanted to establish +a firm friendship; for if he was to stay in this lonely city, he +must have something to <!-- Page 46 -->love, if only a prodigal +kitten of doubtful pedigree.</p> +<p>During the long, hot days that followed Sandy worked faithfully +at the depot. The regular hours and confinement seemed doubly +irksome after the bohemian life on the road.</p> +<p>The Exposition was his salvation. No sacrifice seemed too great +to enable him to get beyond that magic gate. For the "Knights of +the Round Table" was but the beginning of miles and miles of +wonderful pictures. He even bought a catalogue, and, prompted by a +natural curiosity for anything that interested him, learned the +names of the artists he liked best, and the bits of biography +attached to each. He would recite these to the yellow kitten when +he got back to his little hot-box of a room.</p> +<p>One night the art gallery was closed, and he went into another +big building where a crowd of people were seated. At one end of it +was a great pipe-organ, and after a while <!-- Page 47 --> +some one began to play. With his cap tightly grasped in both hands, +he tiptoed down the center aisle and stood breathlessly drinking in +the wonderful tones that seemed to be coming from his own +heart.</p> +<p>"Get out of the way, boy," said an usher. "You are blocking the +aisle."</p> +<p>A queer-appearing lady who looked like a man touched his +elbow.</p> +<p>"Here's a seat," she said in a deep voice.</p> +<p>"Thank you, sir," said Sandy, absently. He scarcely knew whether +he was sitting or standing. He only wanted to be let alone, so that +he could listen to those strange, beautiful sounds that made a +shiver of joy go down his back. Art had had her day; it was Music's +turn.</p> +<p>When the last number had been played, he turned to the queer +lady:</p> +<p>"Do they do it every night?"</p> +<p>She smiled at his enthusiasm: "Wednesdays and Saturdays."</p> +<p>"Say," said Sandy, confidentially, "if <!-- Page 48 --> +you come first do you save me a seat, and I'll do the same by +you."</p> +<p>From that time on he decided to be a musician, and he lived on +two scanty meals a day in order to attend the concerts.</p> +<p>But this exalted scheme of high thinking and plain living soon +became irksome. One day, when his loneliness weighed most heavily +upon him, he was sent with a message out to the switch-station. As +he tramped back along the track he spied a familiar figure ahead of +him. There was no mistaking that short, slouching body with the +peddler's pack strapped on its back. With a cry of joy, Sandy +bounded after Ricks Wilson. He actually hugged him in his joy to be +once more with some one he knew.</p> +<p>Ricks glanced uneasily at the scar above his eye.</p> +<p>Sandy clapped his hand over it and laughed. "It's all right, +Ricks; a miss is as good as a mile. I ain't mad any more. It's +straight home with me you are goin'; <!-- Page 49 --> +and if we can get the two feet of you into me bit of a room, we'll +have a dinner that's fit for a king."</p> +<p>On the way they laid in a supply of provisions, Sandy even going +to the expense of a bottle of beer for Ricks.</p> +<p>The yellow kitten arched her back and showed general signs of +hostility when the stranger was introduced. But her unfriendly +demonstrations were ignored. Ricks was the honored guest, and Sandy +extended to him the full hospitality of the establishment.</p> +<p>"Put your pack on the floor and yerself in the chair, and I'll +get ye filled up in the blink of an eyelash. Don't be mindin' the +cat, Ricks. She's just lettin' on she don't take to you. She give +me the wink on the sly."</p> +<p>Ricks, expanding under the influence of food and drink, became +eloquent. He recounted courageous adventures of the past, and +outlined marvelous schemes for the future, by which he was going to +make a short cut to fame and glory.</p> +<p><!-- Page 50 --> +When it was time for him to go, Sandy heaved a sigh of regret. For +two hours he had been beguiled by Ricks's romances, and now he had +to go back to the humdrum duties at the depot, and receive a sound +rating for his belated appearance.</p> +<p>"Which way might you be goin', Ricks?" he asked wistfully.</p> +<p>"Same place I started fer," said Ricks. "Kentucky."</p> +<p>The will-o'-the-wisp, which had been hiding his light, suddenly +swung it full in the eyes of Sandy. Once more he saw the little +maid of his dreams, and once more he threw discretion to the winds +and followed the vision.</p> +<p>Hastily collecting his few possessions, he rolled them into a +bundle, and slipping the surprised kitten into his pocket, he +gladly followed Ricks once more out into the broad green meadows, +along the white and shining roads that lead over the hills to +Kentucky.</p> +<p> </p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<!-- Page 51 --> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V</h2> +<p>SANDY RETIRES FROM BUSINESS</p> +<p>"This here is too blame slow fer me," said Ricks, one chilly +night in late September, as he and Sandy huddled against a haystack +and settled up their weekly accounts.</p> +<p>"Fifty-five cents! Now ain't that a' o'nery dab? Here's a +quarter fer you and thirty cents fer me; that's as even as you kin +split it."</p> +<p>"It's the microscopes that'll be sellin'," said Sandy, +hopefully, as he pulled his coat collar about his ears and +shivered. "The man as sold 'em to me said they was a great bargain +entirely. He thought there was money in 'em."</p> +<p>"For him," said Ricks, contemptuously. " <!-- Page 52 --> +It's like the man what gulled us on the penknives. I lay to git +even with him, all right."</p> +<p>"But he give us the night's lodgin' and some breakfast," said +Sandy.</p> +<p>Ricks took a long drink from a short bottle, then holding it +before him, he said impressively: "A feller could do me ninety-nine +good turns, and if he done me one bad one it would wipe 'em all +out. I got to git even with anybody what does me dirty, if it takes +me all my life."</p> +<p>"But don't you forget to remember?"</p> +<p>"Not me. I ain't that kind."</p> +<p>Sandy leaned wearily against the haystack and tried to shelter +himself from the wind. A continued diet of bread and water had made +him sensitive to the changes in the weather.</p> +<p>"This here grub is kinder hard on yer head-rails," said Ricks, +trying to bite through a piece of stale bread. A baker had let them +have three loaves for a dime because they were old and hard.</p> +<p><!-- Page 53 --> +Sandy cast a longing look at Ricks's short bottle. It seemed to +remedy so many ills, heat or cold, thirst or hunger. But the strict +principles applied during his tender years made him hesitate.</p> +<p>"I wish we hadn't lost the kitten," he said, feeling the need of +a more cheerful companion.</p> +<p>"I'm a-goin' to git another dawg," announced Ricks. "I'm sick of +this here doin's."</p> +<p>"Ain't we goin' to be turfmen?" asked Sandy, who had listened by +the hour to thrilling accounts of life on the track, and had +accepted Ricks's ambition as his own.</p> +<p>"Not on twenty cents per week," growled Ricks.</p> +<p>Sandy's heart sank; he knew what a new dog meant. He burrowed in +the hay and tried to sleep, but there was a queer pain that seemed +to catch hold of his breath whenever he breathed down deep.</p> +<p>It rained the next day, and they tramped disconsolately through +village after village.</p> +<p><!-- Page 54 --> +They had oil-cloth covers for their baskets, but their own backs +were soaked to the skin.</p> +<p>Toward evening they came to the top of a hill, from which they +could look directly down upon a large town lying comfortably in the +crook of a river's elbow. The rain had stopped, and the belated +sun, struggling through the clouds, made up for lost time by +reflecting itself in every curve of the winding stream, in every +puddle along the road, and in every pane of glass that faced the +west.</p> +<p>"That's a nobby hoss," said Ricks, pointing down the hill. +"What's the matter with the feller?"</p> +<p>A slight, delicate-looking young man was lying in the road, +between the horse and the fence. As the boys came up he stirred and +tried to rise.</p> +<p>"He's off his nut," said Ricks, starting to pass on; but Sandy +stopped.</p> +<p>"Get a fall?" he asked.</p> +<p>The strange boy shook his head. "I <!-- Page 55 --> +guess I fainted. I must have ridden too hard. I'll be all right in +a minute." He leaned his head against a tree and closed his +eyes.</p> +<p>Sandy eyed him curiously, taking in all the details of his +riding-costume down to the short whip with the silver mounting.</p> +<p>"I say, Ricks," he called to his companion, who was inspecting +the horse, "can't we do somethin' for him?"</p> +<p>Ricks reluctantly produced the short bottle.</p> +<p>"I'm all right," insisted the boy, "if you'll just give me a +lift to the saddle." But his eager eyes followed the bottle, and +before Ricks had returned it to his pocket he held out his hand. "I +believe I will take a drink if you don't mind." He drained the +contents and then handed a coin to Ricks.</p> +<p>"Now, if you'll help me," continued the stranger. "There! Thank +you very much."</p> +<p>"Say, what town is this, anyway?" asked Ricks.</p> +<!-- Page 56 --> +<p>"Clayton," said the boy, trying to keep his horse from +backing.</p> +<p>"Looks like somethin' was doin'," said Ricks.</p> +<p>"Circus, I believe."</p> +<p>"Then I don't blame your nag for wantin' to go back!" cried +Sandy. "Come on, Ricks; let's take in the show!"</p> +<p>Half-way down the hill he turned. "Haven't we seen that fellow +before, Ricks?"</p> +<p>"Not as I knows of. He looked kinder pale and shaky, but you bet +yer life he knowed how to hit the bottle."</p> +<p>"He was sick," urged Sandy.</p> +<p>"An' thirsty," added Ricks, with a smile of superior wisdom.</p> +<p>The circus seemed such a timely opportunity to do business that +they decided to rent a stand that night and sell their wares on the +street corner. Ricks went on into town to arrange matters, while +Sandy stopped in a grocery to buy their supper. His interest in the +show had been of short <!-- Page 57 --> +duration. He felt listless and tired, something seemed to be +buzzing continually in his head, and he shivered in his damp +clothes. In the grocery he sat on a barrel and leaned his head +against the wall.</p> +<p>"What you shivering about?" asked the fat woman behind the +counter, as she tied up his small package.</p> +<p>"I feel like me skeleton was doin' a jig inside of me," said +Sandy through chattering teeth.</p> +<p>"Looks to me like you got a chill," said the fat woman. "You +wait here, and I'll go git you some hot coffee."</p> +<p>She disappeared in the rear of the store, and soon returned with +a small coffee-pot and a cup and saucer. Sandy drank two cups and a +half, then he asked the price.</p> +<p>"Price?" repeated the woman, indignantly. "I reckon you don't +know which side of the Ohio River you're on!"</p> +<p>Sandy made up in gratitude what she declined in cash, and +started on his way. At the corner of Main street and the bridge he +<!-- Page 58 --> +found Ricks, who had rented a stand and was already arranging his +wares. Sandy knelt on the sidewalk and unpacked his basket.</p> +<p>"Only three bars of soap and seventy-five microscopes!" he +exclaimed ruefully. "Let's be layin' fine stress on the +microscopes, Ricks."</p> +<p>"You do the jawin', Sandy. I ain't much on givin' 'em the talk," +said Ricks. "Chuck a jolly at 'em and keep 'em hangin' round."</p> +<p>As dark came on, trade began. The three bars of soap were sold, +and a purple necktie. Sandy saw that public taste must be guided in +the proper direction. He stepped up on a box and began eloquently +to enumerate the diverse uses of microscopes.</p> +<p>At each end of the stand a flaring torch lighted up the scene. +The light fell on the careless, laughing faces in front, on Ricks +Wilson, black-browed and suspicious, in the rear, and it fell full +on Sandy, who stood on high and harangued the crowd. It fell on his +broad, straight shoulders and on his <!-- Page 59 --> +shining tumbled hair; but it was not the light of the torch that +gave the brightness to his eyes and the flush to his cheek. His +head was throbbing, but he felt a curious sense of elation. He felt +that he could stand there and talk the rest of his life. He made +the crowd listen, he made it laugh, he made it buy. He told stories +and sang songs, he coaxed and persuaded, until only a few +microscopes were left and the old cigar-box was heavy with +silver.</p> +<p>"Step right up and take a look at a fly's leg! Every one ought +to have a microscope in his home. When you get hard up it will make +a dime look like a dollar, and a dollar like a five-dollar gold +piece. Step right up! I ain't kiddin' you. Five cents for two +looks, and fifteen for the microscope."</p> +<p>Suddenly he faltered. At the edge of the crowd he had recognized +two faces. They were sensitive slender faces, strangely alike in +feature and unlike in expression. The young horseman of the +afternoon was <!-- Page 60 --> +impatiently pushing his way through the crowd, while close behind +him was a dainty girl with brown eyes slightly lifted at the outer +corners, who held back in laughing wonder to watch the scene.</p> +<p>"Ricks," said Sandy, lowering his voice unsteadily, "is this +Kentucky?"</p> +<p>"Yep; we crossed the line to-day."</p> +<p>"I can't talk no more," said Sandy. "You'll have to be doin' it. +I'm sick."</p> +<p>It was not only the fever that was burning in his veins, and +making him bury his hot head in his hands and wish he had never +been born. It was shame and humiliation, and all because of the +look on the face of the girl at the edge of the crowd. He sat in +the shadow of the big box and fought his fight. The coffee and the +excitement no longer kept him up; he was faint, and his breath came +short. Above him he heard Ricks's rasping voice still talking to +the few customers who were left. He knew, without glancing up, just +how Ricks looked when he said the words; he knew <!-- Page 61 --> +how his teeth pushed his lips back, and how his restless little +eyes watched everything at once. A sudden fierce repulsion swept +over him for peddling, for Ricks, for himself.</p> +<p>"And to think," he whispered, with a sob in his throat, "that I +can't ever speak to a girl like that!"</p> +<p>Ricks, jubilant over the success of the evening, decided to +follow the circus, which was to be in the next town on the +following day.</p> +<p>"It ain't fur," he said. "We kin push on to-night and be ready +to open early in the morning."</p> +<p>Sandy, miserable in body and spirit, mechanically obeyed +instructions. His head was getting queerer all the time, and he +could not remember whether it was day or night. About a mile from +Clayton he sank down by the road.</p> +<p>"Say, Ricks," he said abruptly; "I'm after quittin' +peddlin'."</p> +<p>"What you goin' to do?"</p> +<!-- Page 62 --> +<p>"I'm goin' to school."</p> +<p>If Sandy had announced his intention of putting on baby clothes +and being wheeled in a perambulator, Ricks could not have been more +astonished.</p> +<p>"What?" he asked in genuine doubt.</p> +<p>"'Cause I want to be the right sort," burst out Sandy, +passionately. "This ain't the way you get to be the right +sort."</p> +<p>Ricks surveyed him contemptuously. "Look-a here, are you comin' +along of me or not?"</p> +<p>"I can't," said Sandy, weakly.</p> +<p>Ricks shifted his pack, and with never a parting word or a +backward look he left his business partner of three months lying by +the roadside, and tramped away in the darkness.</p> +<p>Sandy started up to follow him; he tried to call, but he had no +strength. He lay with his face on the road and talked. He knew +there was nobody to listen, but still he kept on, softly talking +about microscopes and pink soap, crying out again and again +<!-- Page 63 --> +that he couldn't ever speak to a girl like that.</p> +<p>After a long while somebody came. At first he thought he must +have gone back to the land behind the peat-flames, for it was a +great black witch who bent over him, and he instinctively felt +about in the grass for the tender, soft hand which he used to press +against his cheek. He found instead the hand of the witch herself, +and he drew back in terror.</p> +<p>"Fer de Lawd sake, honey, what's de matter wif you?" asked a +kindly voice. Sandy opened his eyes. A tall old negro woman bent +over him, her head tied up in a turban, and a shawl about her +shoulders.</p> +<p>"Did you git runned over?" she asked, peering down at him +anxiously.</p> +<p>Sandy tried to explain, but it was all the old mixture of soap +and microscopes and never being able to speak to her. He knew he +was talking at random, but he could not say the things he +thought.</p> +<p>"Where'd you come from, boy?"</p> +<!-- Page 64 --> +<p>"Curragh Chase, Limerick," murmured Sandy.</p> +<p>"'Fore de Lawd, he's done been cunjered!" cried the old woman, +aghast. "I'll git it outen of you, chile. You jus' come home wif +yer Aunt Melvy; she'll take keer of you. Put yer arm on my +shoulder; dat's right. Don't you mind where you gwine at. I got yer +bundle. It ain't fur. Hit's dat little house a-hangin' on de side +of de hill. Dey calls it 'Who'd 'a' Thought It,' 'ca'se you nebber +would 'a' thought of puttin' a house dere. Dat's right; lean on yer +mammy. I'll git dem old cunjers outen you."</p> +<p>Thus encouraged and supported, Sandy stumbled on through the +dark, up a hillside that seemed never to end, across a bridge, then +into a tiny log cabin, where he dropped exhausted.</p> +<p>Off and on during the night he knew that there was a fire in the +room, and that strange things were happening to him. But it was all +so queer and unnatural that he did not know where the dreams left +off and the <!-- Page 65 --> +real began. He was vaguely conscious of his left foot being tied to +the right bedpost, of a lock of his hair being cut off and burned +on the hearth, and of a low monotonous chant that seemed to rise +and fall with the flicker of the flames. And when he cried out with +the pain in his sleep, a kindly black face bent over him, and the +chant changed into a soothing murmur:</p> +<p>"Nebber you min', sonny; Aunt Melvy gwine git dem cunjers out. +She gwine stay by you. You hol' on to her han', an' go to sleep; +she'll git dem old cunjers out."</p> +<p> </p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<!-- Page 66--> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI</h2> +<p>HOLLIS FARM</p> +<p>Clayton was an easy-going, prosperous old town which, in the +enthusiasm of youth, had started to climb the long hill to the +north, but growing indolent with age, had decided instead to go +around.</p> +<p>Main street, broad and shady under an unbroken arch of maple +boughs, was flanked on each side by "Back street," the generic term +applied to all the parallel streets. The short cross-streets were +designated by the most direct method: "the street by the Baptist +church," "the street by Dr. Fenton's," "the street going out to +Judge Hollis's," or "the street where Mr. Moseley used to live." In +the heart of the <!-- Page 67 --> +town was the square, with the gray, weather-beaten court-house, the +new and formidable jail, the post-office and church.</p> +<p>For twenty years Dr. Fenton's old high-seated buggy had jogged +over the same daily course. It started at nine o'clock and passed +with never-varying regularity up one street and down another. When +any one was ill a sentinel was placed at the gate to hail the +doctor, who was as sure to pass as the passenger-train. It was a +familiar joke in Clayton that the buggy had a regular track, and +that the wheels always ran in the same rut. Once, when Carter +Nelson had taken too much egg-nog and his aunt thought he had +spinal meningitis, the usual route had been reversed, and again +when the blacksmith's triplets were born. But these were especial +occasions. It was a matter for investigation when the doctor's +buggy went over the bridge before noon.</p> +<p>"Anybody sick out this way?" asked the miller.</p> +<p>The doctor stopped the buggy to explain.</p> +<p><!-- Page 68 --> +He was a short, fat man dressed in a suit of Confederate gray. The +hand that held the reins was minus two fingers, his willing +contribution to the Lost Cause, which was still to him the great +catastrophe of all history. His whole personality was a bristling +arsenal of prejudices. When he spoke it was in quick, short +volleys, in a voice that seemed to come from the depths of a +megaphone.</p> +<p>"Strange boy sick at Judge Hollis's. How's trade?"</p> +<p>"Fair to middlin'," answered the miller. "Do you reckon that +there boy has got anything ketchin'?"</p> +<p>"Catching?" repeated the doctor savagely. "What if he has?" he +demanded. "Two epidemics of typhoid, two of yellow fever, and one +of smallpox that's my record, sir!"</p> +<p>"Looks like my children will ketch a fly-bite," said the miller, +apologetically.</p> +<p>A little farther on the doctor was stopped again this time +by a maiden in a pink-and-white <!-- Page 69 --> +gingham, with a mass of light curls bobbing about her face.</p> +<p>"Dad!" she called as she scrambled over the fence. "Where you +g-going, dad?"</p> +<p>The doctor flapped the lines nervously and tried to escape, but +she pursued him madly. Catching up with the buggy, she pulled +herself up on the springs and thrust an impudent, laughing face +through the window at the back.</p> +<p>"Annette," scolded her father, "aren't you ashamed? Fourteen +years old, and a tomboy! Get down!"</p> +<p>"Where you g-going, dad?" she stammered, unabashed.</p> +<p>"To Judge Hollis's. Get down this minute!"</p> +<p>"What for?"</p> +<p>"Somebody's sick. Get down, I say!"</p> +<p>Instead of getting down, she got in, coming straight through the +small window, and arriving in a tangle of pink and white at his +side.</p> +<p>The doctor heaved a prodigious sigh. As <!-- Page 70 --> +a colonel of the Confederacy he had exacted strict discipline and +unquestioning obedience, but he now found himself ignominiously +reduced to the ranks, and another Fenton in command.</p> +<p>At Hollis Farm the judge met them at the gate. He was large and +loose-jointed, with the frame of a Titan and the smile of a child. +He wore a long, loose dressing-gown and a pair of slippers +elaborately embroidered in green roses. His big, irregular features +were softened by an expression of indulgent interest toward the +world at large.</p> +<p>"Good morning, doctor. Howdy, Nettie. How are you all this +morning?"</p> +<p>"Who's sick?" growled the doctor as he hitched his horse to the +fence.</p> +<p>"It's a stray lad, doctor; my old cook, Melvy, played the good +Samaritan and picked him up off the road last night. She brought +him to me this morning. He's out of his head with a fever."</p> +<p>"Where'd he come from?" asked the doctor.</p> +<!-- Page 71 --> +<p>"Mrs. Hollis says he was peddling goods up at Main street and +the bridge last night."</p> +<p>"Which one is he?" demanded Annette, eagerly, as she emerged +from the buggy. "Is he g-good-looking, with blue eyes and light +hair? Or is he b-black and ugly and sort of cross-eyed?"</p> +<p>The judge peered over his glasses quizzically. "Thinking about +the boys, as usual! Now I want to know what business you have +noticing the color of a peddler's eyes?"</p> +<p>Annette blushed, but she stood her ground. "All the g-girls +noticed him. He wasn't an ordinary peddler. He was just as smart +and f-funny as could be."</p> +<p>"Well, he isn't smart and funny now," said the judge, with a +grim laugh.</p> +<p>The two men passed up the long avenue and into the house. At the +door they were met by Mrs. Hollis, whose small angular person +breathed protest. Her black hair was arranged in symmetrical bands +which were drawn tightly back from a straight <!-- Page 72 --> +part. When she talked, a gold-capped tooth was disclosed on each +side of her mouth, giving rise to the judge's joke that one was +capped to keep the other company, since Mrs. Hollis's sense of +order and regularity rebelled against one eye-tooth of one color +and the other of another.</p> +<p>"Good morning, doctor," she said shortly; "there's the door-mat. +No, don't put your hat there; I'll take it. Isn't this a pretty +business for Melvy to come bringing a sick tramp up here on +general cleaning-day, too?"</p> +<p>"Aren't all days cleaning-days to you, Sue?" asked the judge, +playfully.</p> +<p>"When you are in the house," she answered sharply. Then she +turned to the doctor, who was starting up the stairs:</p> +<p>"If this boy is in for a long spell, I want him moved somewhere. +I can't have my carpets run over and my whole house smelling like a +hospital."</p> +<p>"Now, Susan," remonstrated the judge, gently, "we can't turn the +lad out. We've <!-- Page 73 --> +got room and to spare. If he's got the fever, he'll have to +stay."</p> +<p>"We'll see, we'll see," said the doctor.</p> +<p>But when he tiptoed down from the room above there was no +question about it.</p> +<p>"Very sick boy," he said, rubbing his hand over his bald head. +"If he gets better, I might take him over to Mrs. Meech's; he can't +be moved now."</p> +<p>"Mrs. Meech!" cried Mrs. Hollis, in fine scorn. "Do you think I +would let him go to that dirty house and with this fever, +too? Why, Mrs. Meech's front curtains haven't been washed since +Christmas! She and the preacher and Martha all sit around with +their noses in books, and never even know that the water-spout is +leaking and the porch needs mopping! You can't tell me anything +about the Meeches!"</p> +<p>Neither of the men tried to do so; they stood silent in the +doorway, looking very grave.</p> +<p>"For mercy sake! what is that in the front lot?" exclaimed Mrs. +Hollis.</p> +<p><!-- Page 74 --> +The doctor had an uncomfortable premonition, which was promptly +verified. One of the judge's friskiest colts was circling madly +about the driveway, while astride of it, in triumph, sat Annette, +her dress ripped at the belt, her hair flying.</p> +<p>"If she don't need a woman's hand!" exclaimed Mrs. Hollis. "I +could manage her all right."</p> +<p>The doctor looked from Mrs. Hollis, with her firm, close-shut +mouth, to the flying figure on the lawn.</p> +<p>"Perhaps," he said, lifting his brows; but he put the odds on +Annette.</p> +<p>That night, when Aunt Melvy brought the lamp into the +sitting-room, she waited nervously near Mrs. Hollis's chair.</p> +<p>"Miss Sue," she ventured presently, "is de cunjers comin' +out?"</p> +<p>"The what?"</p> +<p>"De cunjers what dat pore chile's got. I done tried all de +spells I knowed, but look lak dey didn't do no good."</p> +<p>"He has the fever," said Mrs. Hollis; "<!-- Page 75 --> +and it means a long spell of nursing and bother for me."</p> +<p>The judge stirred uncomfortably. "Now, Sue," he remonstrated, +"you needn't take a bit of bother. Melvy will see to him by day, +and I will look after him at night."</p> +<p>Mrs. Hollis bit her lip and heroically refrained from expressing +her mind.</p> +<p>"He's a mighty purty chile," said Aunt Melvy, tentatively.</p> +<p>"He's a common tramp," said Mrs. Hollis.</p> +<p>After supper, arranging a tray with a snowy napkin and a +steaming bowl of broth, Mrs. Hollis went up to the sick-room. Her +first step had been to have the patient bathed and combed and made +presentable for the occupancy of the guest-chamber. It had been +with rebellion of spirit that she placed him there, but the judge +had taken one of those infrequent stands which she knew it was +useless to resist. She put the tray on a table near the big +four-poster bed, and leaned over to look at the sleeper.</p> +<p><!-- Page 76 --> +Sandy lay quiet among the pillows, his fair hair tumbled, his lips +parted. As the light fell on his flushed face he stirred.</p> +<p>"Here's your supper," said Mrs. Hollis, her voice softening in +spite of herself. He was younger than she had thought. She slipped +her arm under the pillow and raised his head.</p> +<p>"You must eat," she said kindly.</p> +<p>He looked at her vacantly, then a momentary consciousness +flitted over his face, a vague realization that he was being cared +for. He put up a hot hand and gently touched her cheek; then, +rallying all his strength, he smiled away his debt of gratitude. It +was over in a moment, and he sank back unconscious.</p> +<!-- Page 77 (Illustration) --> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 462px;"><a name="i77" id= +"i77"></a> <img src="images/077.gif" width="462" height="700" alt= +"Illustration: He smiled away his debt of gratitude" /></div> +<!-- Page 78 (blank facing page) --> +<p>Through the dreary hours of the night Mrs. Hollis sat by the +bed, nursing him with the aching tenderness that only a childless +woman can know. Below, in the depths of a big feather-bed, the +judge slept in peaceful unconcern, disturbing the silence by a +series of long, loud, and unmelodious snores.</p> +<p> </p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<!-- Page 89 --> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII</h2> +<p>CONVALESCENCE</p> +<p>"Is that the Nelson phaéton going out the road?" asked Mrs. +Hollis as she peered out through the dining-room window one +morning. "I shouldn't be a bit surprised if it was Mrs. Nelson +making her yearly visits, and here my bricks haven't been +reddened."</p> +<p>Sandy's heart turned a somersault. He was sitting up for the +first time, wrapped in blankets and wearing a cap to cover his +close-cropped head. All through his illness he had been tortured by +the thought that he had talked of Ruth, though now wild horses +could not have dragged forth a question concerning her.</p> +<p>"Melvy," continued Mrs. Hollis, as she briskly rubbed the +sideboard with some unsavory <!-- Page 80 --> + furniture-polish, "if Mrs. Nelson does come here, you be sure to +put on your white apron before you open the door; and for pity sake +don't forget the card-tray! You ought to know better than to stick +out your hand for a lady's calling-card. I told you about that last +week."</p> +<p>Aunt Melvy paused in her dusting and chuckled: "Lor', honey, +dat's right! You orter put on airs all de time, wid all de money de +judge is got. He says to me yisterday, says he, 'Can't you 'suade +yer Miss Sue not to be cleanin' up so much, an' not to go out in de +front yard wid dat ole sunbonnet on?'"</p> +<p>"Well, I'd like to know how things would get done if I didn't do +them," exclaimed Mrs. Hollis, hotly. "I suppose he would like me to +let things go like the Meeches! The only time I ever saw Mrs. Meech +work was when she swept the front pavement, and then she made +Martha walk around behind her and read out loud while she was doing +it."</p> +<!-- Page 81 --> +<p>"It's Mr. Meech that's in the yard now," announced Sandy from +the side window. "He's raking the leaves with one hand and +a-reading a book with the other."</p> +<p>"I knew it!" cried Mrs. Hollis. "I never saw such doings. They +say she even leaves the dishes overnight. And yet she can sit on +her porch and smile at people going by, just like her house was +cleaned up. I hate a hypocrite."</p> +<p>Sandy had had ample time to watch the Meeches during his long +convalescence. He had been moved from the spare room to a snug +little room over the kitchen, which commanded a fine view of the +neighbors. When the green book got too heavy to hold, or his eyes +grew too tired to look at the many magazines with which the judge +supplied him, he would lie still and watch the little drama going +on next door.</p> +<p>Mrs. Meech was a large, untidy woman who always gave the +impression of needing to be tucked up. The end of her gray braid +hung out behind one ear, her waist hung out <!-- Page 82 --> +of her belt, and even the buttons on her shoes hung out of the +buttonholes in shameless laziness.</p> +<p>Mr. Meech did not need tucking in; he needed letting out. He +seemed to have shrunk in the wash of life. In spite of the fact +that he was three sizes too small for his wife, to begin with, he +emphasized it by wearing trousers that cleared his shoe-tops and +sleeves half-way to his elbows. But this was only on week-days, for +on Sunday Sandy would see him emerge, expand, and flutter forth in +an ample suit of shiny broadcloth. For Mr. Meech was the pastor of +the Hard-Shell Baptist Church in Clayton, and if his domestic +economy was a matter of open gossip, there was no question +concerning the fact of his learning. It had been the boast of the +congregation for years that Judge Hollis was the only man in town +who was smart enough to understand his sermons. When Mr. Meech +started out in the morning with a book under his arm and one +sticking out of each <!-- Page 83 --> +pocket, Sandy would pull up on his elbow to watch proceedings. He +loved to see fat Mrs. Meech pat the little man lovingly on the head +and kiss him good-by; he loved to see Martha walk with him to the +gate and throw kisses after him until he turned the curve in the +road.</p> +<p>Martha was a pale, thin girl with two long, straight plaits and +a long, straight dress. She went to school in the morning, and when +she came home at noon her mother always hurried to meet her and +kissed her on both cheeks. Sandy had got quite in the habit of +watching for her at the side window where she came to study. He +leaned forward now to see if she were there.</p> +<p>"I thought so!" cried Mrs. Hollis, looking over his shoulder. +"There comes the Nelson phaéton this minute! Melvy, get on +your white apron. I'll wind up the cuckoo-clock and unlock the +parlor door."</p> +<p>"Who is it?" ventured Sandy, with internal tremors.</p> +<p>"Hit's Mrs. Nelson an' her niece, Miss <!-- Page 84 --> +Rufe," said Aunt Melvy, nervously trying to reverse her apron after +tying the bow in the front. "Dey's big bugs, dey is. Dey is +quality, an' no mistake. I b'longed to Miss Rufe's grandpaw; he +done lef' her all his money, she an' Mr. Carter. Poor Mr. Carter! +Dey say he ain't got no lungs to speak of. Ain't no wonder he's +sorter wild like. He takes after his grandpaw, my ole mars'. Lor', +honey, de mint-juleps jus' nachelly ooze outen de pores ob his +grandpaw's skin! But Miss Rufe she ain't like none ob dem Nelsons; +she favors her maw. She's quality inside an' out."</p> +<p>A peal of the bell cut short further interesting revelations. +Aunt Melvy hurried through the hall, leaving doors open behind her. +At the front door she paused in dismay. Before her stood the +Nelsons in calling attire, presenting two immaculate cards for her +acceptance. Too late she remembered her instructions.</p> +<p>"'Fore de Lawd!" she cried in consternation, <!-- Page 85 --> +"ef I ain't done fergit dat pan ag'in!"</p> +<p>Sandy, left alone in the dining-room, was listening with every +nerve a-quiver for the sound of Ruth's voice. The thought that she +was here under the same roof with him sent the blood bounding +through his veins. He pulled himself up, and trailing the blanket +behind him, made his way somewhat unsteadily across the room and up +the back stairs.</p> +<p>Behind the door of his room hung the pride of his soul, a new +suit of clothes, whole, patchless, clean, which the judge had +bought him two days before. He had sat before it in speechless +admiration; he had hung it in every possible light to get the full +benefit of its beauty; he had even in the night placed it on a +chair beside the bed, so that he could put out his hand in the dark +and make sure it was there. For it was the first new suit of +clothes that he remembered ever to have possessed. He had not +intended to wear it until Sunday, <!-- Page 97 --> +but the psychological moment had arrived.</p> +<p>With trembling fingers and many pauses for rest, he made his +toilet. He looked in the mirror, and his heart nearly burst with +pride. The suit, to be sure, hung limp on his gaunt frame, and his +shaven head gave him the appearance of a shorn lamb, but to Sandy +the reflection was eminently satisfying. One thing only seemed to +be lacking. He meditated a moment, then, with some misgiving, +picked up a small linen doily from the dresser, and carefully +folding it, placed it in his breast-pocket, with one corner just +visible.</p> +<p>Triumphant in mind, if weak in body, he slipped down the back +steps, skirted Aunt Melvy's domain, and turned the corner of the +house just as the Nelson phaéton rolled out of the yard. +Before he had time to give way to utter despair a glimmer of hope +appeared on the horizon, for the phaéton stopped, and there +was evidently something the matter. Sandy did not wait for it to be +<!-- Page 87 --> +remedied. He ran down the road with all the speed he could +muster.</p> +<p>Near the gate where the little branch crossed the turnpike was a +slight embankment, and two wheels of the phaéton had slipped +over the edge and were buried deep in the soft earth. Beside it, +sitting indignantly in the water, was an irate lady who had +evidently attempted to get out backward and had taken a sudden and +unexpected seat. Her countenance was a pure specimen of Gothic +architecture; a massive pompadour reared itself above two Gothic +eyebrows which flanked a nose of unquestioned Gothic tendencies. +Her mouth, with its drooping corners, completed the series of +arches, and the whole expression was one of aspiring melancholy and +injured majesty.</p> +<p>Kneeling at her side, reassuring her and wiping the water from +her hands, was Ruth Nelson.</p> +<p>"God send you ain't hurt, ma'am!" cried Sandy, arriving +breathless.</p> +<p>The girl looked up and shook her head <!-- Page 88 --> +in smiling protest, but the Gothic lady promptly suffered a +relapse.</p> +<p>"I am I know I am! Just look at my dress covered with mud, +and my glove is split. Get my smelling-salts, Ruth!"</p> +<p>Ruth, upon whom the lady was leaning, turned to Sandy.</p> +<p>"Will you hand it to me? It is in the little bag there on the +seat."</p> +<p>Sandy rushed to do her bidding. He was rather hazy as to the +object of his search; but when his fingers touched a round, soft +ball he drew it forth and hastily presented it to the lady's Roman +nose.</p> +<p>She, with closed eyes, was taking deep whiffs when a laugh +startled her.</p> +<p>"Oh, Aunt Clara, it's your powder-puff!" cried Ruth, unable to +restrain her mirth.</p> +<p>Mrs. Nelson rose with as much dignity as her draggled condition +would permit. "You'd better get me home," she said solemnly. "I may +be internally injured." <!-- Page 89 --> +She turned to Sandy. "Boy, can't you get that phaéton back on +the road?"</p> +<p>Sandy, whose chagrin over his blunder had sent him to the +background, came promptly forward. Seizing the wheel, he made +several ineffectual efforts to lift it back to the road.</p> +<p>"It is not moving an inch!" announced the mournful voice from +above. "Can't you take hold of it nearer the back, and exert a +little more strength?"</p> +<p>Sandy bit his lip and shot a swift glance at Ruth. She was still +smiling. With savage determination he fell upon the wheel as if it +had been a mortal foe; he pushed and shoved and pulled, and +finally, with a rally of all his strength, he went on his knees in +the mud and lifted the phaéton back on the road.</p> +<p>Then came a collapse, and he leaned against the nearest tree and +struggled with the deadly faintness that was stealing over him.</p> +<!-- Page 90 --> +<p>"Why why, you are the boy who was sick!" cried Ruth, in +dismay.</p> +<p>Sandy, white and trembling, shook his head protestingly. "It's +me bellows that's rocky," he explained between gasps.</p> +<p>Mrs. Nelson rustled back into the phaéton, and taking a +piece of money from her purse, held it out to him.</p> +<p>"That will amply repay you," she said.</p> +<p>Sandy flushed to the roots of his close-cropped hair. A tip, +heretofore a gift of the gods, had suddenly become an insult. +Angry, impetuous words rushed to his lips, and he took a step +forward. Then he was aware of a sudden change in the girl, who had +just stepped into the phaéton. She shot a quick, indignant +look at her aunt, then turned around and smiled a good-by to +him.</p> +<p>He lifted his cap and said, "I thank ye." But it was not to Mrs. +Nelson, who still held the money as they drove out of the +avenue.</p> +<p>Sandy went wearily back to the house. <!-- Page 91 --> +He had made his first trial in behalf of his lady fair, but his +soul knew no elation. His beautiful new armor had sustained +irreparable injury, and his vanity had received a mortal wound.</p> +<p> </p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<!-- Page 92 --> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII</h2> +<p>AUNT MELVY AS A SOOTHSAYER</p> +<p>It was a crisp afternoon in late October. The road leading west +from Clayton ran the gantlet of fiery maples and sumac until it +reached the barren hillside below "Who'd 'a' Thought It." The +little cabin clung to the side of the steep slope like a bit of +fungus to the trunk of a tree.</p> +<p>In the doorway sat three girls, one tall and dark, one plump and +fair, and the third straight and thin. They were anxiously awaiting +the revelation of the future as disclosed by Aunt Melvy's far-famed +tea-leaves. The prophetess kept them company while waiting for the +water to boil.</p> +<p>"He sutenly is a peart boy," she was <!-- Page 93 --> +saying. "De jedge done start him in plumb at de foot up at de +'cademy, an' dey tell me he's ketchin' up right along."</p> +<p>"Wasn't it g-grand in Judge Hollis to send him to school?" said +Annette. "Of course he's going to work for him b-between times. +They say even Mrs. Hollis is glad he is going to stay."</p> +<p>"'Co'se she is," said Aunt Melvy; "dere nebber was nobody come +it over Miss Sue lak he done."</p> +<p>"Father says he is very quick," ventured Martha Meech, a faint +color coming to her dull cheek at this unusual opportunity of +descanting upon such an absorbing subject. "Father told Judge +Hollis he would help him with his lessons, and that he thought it +would be only a little while before he was up with the other +boys."</p> +<p>"Dad says he's a d-dandy," cried Annette. "And isn't it grand +he's going to be put on the ball team and the glee club!"</p> +<p>Ruth rose to break a branch laden with crimson maple-leaves. +"Was he ever here <!-- Page 94 --> +before?" she asked in puzzled tones. "I have seen him somewhere, +and I can't think where."</p> +<p>"Well, I'd never f-forget him," said Annette. "He's got the +jolliest face I ever saw. M-Martha says he can jump that high fence +b-back of the Hollises' without touching it. I d-drove dad's buggy +clear up over the curbstone yesterday, so he would come to the +r-rescue, and he swung on to old B-Baldy's neck like he had been a +race-horse."</p> +<p>"But you don't know him," protested Ruth. "And, besides, he +was he was a peddler."</p> +<p>"I don't care if he was," said Annette. "And if I don't know +him, it's no sign I am not g-going to."</p> +<p>Aunt Melvy chuckled as she rose to encourage the fire with a +pair of squeaking old bellows.</p> +<p>Martha looked about the room curiously. "Can you really tell +what's going to happen?" she asked timidly.</p> +<!-- Page 95 --> +<p>"Indeed she can," said Annette. "She told Jane Lewis that she +was g-going to have some g-good luck, and the v-very next week her +aunt died and left her a turquoise-ring!"</p> +<p>"Yas, chile," said Aunt Melvy, bending over the fire to light +her pipe; "I been habin' divisions for gwine on five year. Dat's +what made me think I wuz gwine git religion; but hit ain't come +yit not yit. I'm a mourner an' a seeker." Her pipe dropped +unheeded, and she gazed with fixed eyes out of the window.</p> +<p>"Tell us about your visions," demanded Annette.</p> +<p>"Well," said Aunt Melvy, "de fust I knowed about it wuz de +lizards in my legs. I could feel 'em jus' as plain as day, dese +here little green lizards a-runnin' round inside my legs. I tole de +doctor 'bout hit, Miss Nettie; but he said 't warn't nothin' but de +fidgits. I knowed better 'n he did dat time. Dat night I had a +division, an' de dream say, 'Put on yer purple mournin'-dress an' +set wid yer feet in a barrel ob <!-- Page 96--> +b'ilin' water till de smoke comes down de chimbly.' An' so I done, +a-settin' up dere on dat chist o' drawers all night, wid my purple +mournin'-dress on an' my feet in de b'ilin' water, an' de lizards +run away so fur dat dey ain't even stopped yit."</p> +<p>"Aunt Melvy, do you tell fortunes by palmistry?" asked Ruth.</p> +<p>"Yas'm; I reckon dat's what you call hit. I tells by de +tea-leaves. Lor', Miss Rufe, you sutenly put me in min' o' yer +grandmaw! She kerried her haid up in de air jus' lak you do, an' +she wuz jus' as putty as you is, too. We libed in de ole plantation +what's done burned down now, an' I lubed my missus I sutenly +did. When my ole man fust come here from de country I nebber seen +sech a fool. He didn't know no more 'bout courtin' dan nothin'; but +I wuz better qualified. I jus' tole ole miss how 't wuz, an' she +fixed up de weddin'. I nebber will fergit de day we walk ober de +plantation an' say we wuz married. George he had on a brand-new +pair pants dat cost <!-- Page 97 --> +two hundred an' sixty-four dollars in Confederate money."</p> +<p>"Isn't the water b-boiling yet?" asked Annette, impatiently.</p> +<p>"So 't is, so 't is," said Aunt Melvy, lifting the kettle from +the crane. She dropped a few tea-leaves in three china cups, and +then with great solemnity and occasional guttural ejaculations +poured the water over them.</p> +<p>Before the last cup was filled, Annette, with a wry face, had +drained the contents of hers and held it out to Aunt Melvy.</p> +<p>"There are my leaves. If they don't tell about a lover with +b-blue eyes and an Irish accent, I'll never b-believe them."</p> +<p>Aunt Melvy bent over the cup, and her sides shook. "You gwine be +a farmer's wife," she said, chuckling at the girl's grimace. "You +gwine raise chickens an' chillun."</p> +<p>"Ugh!" said Annette as the other girls laughed; "are his eyes +b-blue?"</p> +<p>Aunt Melvy pondered over the leaves. <!-- Page 98 --> +"Well, now, 'pears to me he's sorter dark-complected an' fat, like +Mr. Sid Gray," she said.</p> +<p>"Never!" declared Annette. "I loathe Sid."</p> +<p>"Tell my future!" cried Martha, pushing her cup forward +eagerly.</p> +<p>"Dey ain't none!" cried Aunt Melvy, aghast, as she saw the few +broken leaves in the bottom of the cup. "You done drinked up yer +fortune. Dat's de sign ob early death. I gwine fix you a good-luck +bag; dey say ef you carry it all de time, hit's a cross-sign ag'in' +death."</p> +<p>"But can't you tell me anything?" persisted Martha.</p> +<p>"Dey ain't nothin' to tell," repeated Aunt Melvy, "'cep'n' to +warn you to carry dat good-luck bag all de time."</p> +<p>"Now, mine," said Ruth, with an incredulous but curious +smile.</p> +<p>For several moments Aunt Melvy bent over the cup in deep +consideration, and then she rose and took it to the window, with +<!-- Page 99 --> +fearsome, anxious looks at Ruth meanwhile. Once or twice she made a +sign with her fingers, and frowned anxiously.</p> +<p>"What is it, Aunt Melvy?" Ruth demanded. "Am I going to be an +old maid?"</p> +<p>"'T ain't no time to joke, chile," whispered Aunt Melvy, all the +superstition of her race embodied in her trembling figure. "What I +see, I see. Hit's de galluses what I see in de bottom ob yer +cup!"</p> +<p>"Do you m-mean suspenders?" laughed Annette.</p> +<p>Aunt Melvy did, not hear her; she was looking over the cup into +space, swaying and moaning.</p> +<p>"To t'ink ob my ole missus' gran'chile bein' mixed up wif a +gallus lak dey hang de niggers on! But hit's dere, jus' as plain as +day, de two poles an' de cross-beam."</p> +<p>Ruth laughed as she looked into the cup.</p> +<p>"Is it for me?"</p> +<p>"Don't know, honey; de signs don't p'int to no one person: but +hit's in yer life, an' de shadow rests ag'in' you."</p> +<p><!-- Page 100 --> +By this time Martha was at the door, urging the others to hurry. +Her face was pale and her eyes were troubled. Ruth saw her +nervousness and slipped her arm about her. "It's all in fun," she +whispered.</p> +<p>"Of course," said Annette. "You m-mustn't mind her foolishness. +Besides, I g-got the worst of it. I'd rather die young or be +hanged, any day, than to m-marry Sid Gray."</p> +<p>Aunt Melvy followed them to the door, shaking her head. "I'se +gwine make you chillun some good-luck bags. De fust time de new +moon holds water I'se sholy gwine fix 'em. 'T ain't safe not to +mind de signs; 't ain't safe."</p> +<p>And with muttered warnings she watched them until they were lost +to view behind the hill.</p> +<p> </p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<!-- Page 101 --> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX</h2> +<p>TRANSITION</p> +<p>The change from the road to the school-room was not without many +a struggle on Sandy's part. The new life, the new customs, and the +strange language, were baffling.</p> +<p>The day after the accident in the road, Mrs. Hollis had sent him +to inquire how old Mrs. Nelson was, and he had returned with the +astonishing report that she was sixty-one.</p> +<p>"But you didn't ask her age?" cried Mrs. Hollis, horrified.</p> +<p>Sandy looked perplexed. "I said what ye bid me," he +declared.</p> +<p>Everything he did, in fact, seemed to be wrong; and everything +he said, to bring a <!-- Page 102 --> +smile. He confided many a woe to Aunt Melvy as he sat on the +kitchen steps in the evenings.</p> +<p>"Hit's de green rubbin' off," she assured him sympathetically. +"De same ones dat laugh at you now will be takin' off dey hats to +you some day."</p> +<p>"Oh, it ain't the guyin' I mind," said Sandy; "it's me wooden +head. Them little shavers that can't see a hole in a ladder can +beat me figurin'."</p> +<p>"You jus' keep on axin' questions," advised Aunt Melvy. "Dat's +what I always tole Rachael. Rachael's dat yaller gal up to Mrs. +Nelson's. I done raise her, an' she ain't a bit o'count. I use' ter +say, 'You fool nigger, how you ebber gwine learn nothin' effen you +don't ax questions?' An' she'd stick out her mouth an' say, 'Umph, +umph; you don't ketch me lettin' de white folks know how much sense +I ain't got.' Den she'd put on a white dress an' a white sunbonnet +an' go switchin' up de street, lookin' jus' lak a fly in a glass ob +buttermilk."</p> +<!-- Page 103 --> +<p>"It's the mixed-up things that bother me," said Sandy. "Mr. +Moseley was telling of us to-day how ye lost a day out of the week +when ye went round the world one way, and gained a day when ye went +round the other."</p> +<p>Aunt Melvy paused with the tea-towel in her hand. "Lost a day +outen de week? Where'd he say you lost it at?"</p> +<p>Sandy shook his head in perplexity.</p> +<p>"Dat's plumb foolishness," said Aunt Melvy, indignantly. "I'se +s'prised at Mr. Moseley, I sholy is. Dey sorter gits notions, dem +teachers does. When dey tells you stuff lak dat, honey, don't you +pay 'em no mind."</p> +<p>But Sandy did "pay 'em mind." He followed Aunt Melvy's advice +about asking questions, and wrestled with each new proposition +until he mastered it. It did not take him long, moreover, to +distinguish the difference between himself and those about him. The +words and phrases that had passed current on the street seemed to +ring <!-- Page 104 --> +false here. He watched the judge covertly and took notes.</p> +<p>His progress at the academy was a singular succession of +triumphs and failures. His natural quickness, together with an +enthusiastic ambition to get on, enabled him soon to take his place +among the boys of his own age. But a superabundance of high spirits +and an inordinate love of fun caused many a dark entry on the debit +side of his school ledger. There were many times when he +exasperated the judge to the limit of endurance, for he was +reckless and impulsive, charged to the exploding-point with +vitality, and ever and always the victim of his last caprice; but +when it came to the final issue, and the judge put a question +fairly before him, the boy was always on the side of right, even +though it proved him guilty.</p> +<p>At first Mrs. Hollis had been strongly opposed to his remaining +on the farm, but she soon became silent on the subject. It was a +heretofore unknown luxury to have the outside work promptly and +efficiently <!-- Page 105 --> +attended to. He possessed "the easy grace that makes a joke of +toil"; and when he despatched his various chores and did even more +than was required of him, Mrs. Hollis capitulated.</p> +<p>It was something more, however, than his ability and service +that won her. The affection of the world, which seemed to eddy +around her, as a rule, found an exception in Sandy. His big, +exuberant nature made no distinction: he swept over her, sharp +edges and all; he teased her, coaxed her, petted her, laughed at +her, turned her tirades with a bit of blarney, and in the end won +her in spite of herself.</p> +<p>"He's ketchin' on," reported Aunt Melvy, confidently. "I heared +him puttin' on airs in his talk. When dey stops talkin' nachel, den +I knows dey are learnin' somethin'."</p> +<p> </p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<!-- Page 106 --> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X</h2> +<p>WATERLOO</p> +<p>It was not until three years had passed and Sandy had reached +his junior year that his real achievement was put to the test.</p> +<p>After that harrowing experience in the Hollis driveway, he had +seen Ruth Nelson but twice. She had spent the winters at +boarding-school, and in the summers she traveled with her aunt. She +was still the divinity for whom he shaped his end, the compass that +always brought him back to the straight course. He looked upon her +possible recognition and friendship as a man looks upon his reward +in heaven. In the meantime he suffered himself to be consoled by +less distant joys.</p> +<p><!-- Page 107 --> +The greatest spur he had to study was Martha Meech. She thought he +was a genius; and while he found it a bit irksome to live up to his +reputation, he made an honest effort to deserve it.</p> +<p>One spring afternoon the two were under the apple-trees, with +their books before them. The years that had lifted Sandy forward +toward vigor and strength and manhood had swept over Martha +relentlessly, beating out her frail strength, and leaving her +weaker to combat each incoming tide. Her straight, straw-colored +hair lay smooth about her delicate face, and in her eyes was the +strained look of one who seeks but is destined never to attain.</p> +<p>"Let's go over the Latin once more," she was saying patiently, +"just to make sure you understand."</p> +<p>"Devil a bit more!" cried Sandy, jumping up from where he lay in +the grass and tossing the book lightly from her hand; "it's the sin +and the shame to keep you poking in books, now the spring is here. +<!-- Page 108 --> +Martha, do you mind the sound of the wind in the tree-tops?"</p> +<p>She nodded, and he went on:</p> +<p>"Does it put strange words in your heart that you can't even +think out in your head? If I could be translating the wind and the +river, I'd never be minding the Latin again."</p> +<p>Martha looked at him half timidly.</p> +<p>"Sometimes, do you know, I almost think you are a poet, Sandy; +you are always thinking the things the poets write about."</p> +<p>"Do you, now, true?" he asked seriously, dropping down on the +grass beside her. Then he laughed. "You'll be having me writing +rhymes, now, in a minute."</p> +<p>"Why not?" she urged.</p> +<p>"I must stick to my course," he said. "I'd never be a real one. +They work for the work's sake, and I work for the praise. If I win +the scholarship, it'll be because you want me to, Martha; if I come +to be a lawyer, it's because it's the wish of the judge's heart; +and if I win out in the end, it will be for the love of some +one some one who <!-- Page 109 --> +cares more for that than for anything else in the world."</p> +<p>She dropped her eyes, while he watched the flight of a song-bird +as it wheeled about overhead. Presently she opened an old portfolio +and took from it a little sketch.</p> +<p>"I have been trying to get up courage to show it to you all +week," she said, with a deprecatory laugh.</p> +<p>"It's the river," cried Sandy, "just at sundown, when the +shadows are slipping away from the bank! Martha, why didn't ye tell +me? Are there more?"</p> +<p>He ransacked the portfolio, drawing out sketch after sketch and +exclaiming over each. They were crude little efforts, faulty in +drawing and in color; but the spirit was there, and Sandy had a +vague instinct for the essence of things.</p> +<p>"I believe you're the real kind, Martha. They're crooked a bit, +but they've got the feel of the woods in 'em, all right. I can just +hear the water going over those stones."</p> +<p>Martha's eyes glowed at the praise. For <!-- Page 110 --> +a year she had reached forward blindly toward some outlet for her +cramped, limited existence, and suddenly a way seemed open toward +the light.</p> +<p>"I wanted to learn how before I showed you," she said. "I am +never going to show them to any one but you and mother and +father."</p> +<p>"But you must go somewhere to study," cried Sandy. "It's a great +artist you'll be some day."</p> +<p>She shook her head. "It's not for me, Sandy. I'll always be like +a little beggar girl that peeps through the fence into a beautiful +garden. I know all the wonderful things are there, but I'll never +get to them."</p> +<p>"But ye will," cried Sandy, hot with sympathy. "I'll be making +money some day, and I'll send ye to the finest master in the +country; and you will be getting well and strong, and we'll +go "</p> +<p>Mr. Meech, shuffling up the walk toward them, interrupted. +"Studying for the examination, eh? That's right, my boy. The +<!-- Page 111 --> +judge tells me that you have a good chance to win the +scholarship."</p> +<p>"Did he, now?" said Sandy, with shameless pleasure; "and you, +Mr. Meech, do ye think the same?"</p> +<p>"I certainly do," said Mr. Meech. "Anybody that can accomplish +the work you do at home, and hold your record at the academy, +stands an excellent chance."</p> +<p>Sandy thought so, too, but he tried to be modest. "If it'll be +in me, it will come out," he said with suppressed triumph as he +swung his books across his shoulder and started home.</p> +<p>Martha's eyes followed him wistfully, and she hoped for a +backward look before he turned in at the door. But he was absorbed +in sailing a broomstick across Aunt Melvy's pathway, causing her to +drop her basket and start after him in hot pursuit.</p> +<p>That evening the judge glanced across the table with great +satisfaction at Sandy, who was apparently buried in his Vergil. The +boy, after all, was a student; he was <!-- Page 112 --> +justifying the money and time that had been spent upon him; he was +proving a credit to his benefactor's judgment and to his knowledge +of human nature.</p> +<p>"Would ye mind telling me a word that rhymes with lance?" broke +in Sandy after an hour of absorbed concentration.</p> +<p>"Pants," suggested the judge. But he woke up in the night to +wonder again what part of Vergil Sandy had been studying.</p> +<p>"How about the scholarship?" he asked the next day of Mr. +Moseley, the principal of the academy.</p> +<p>Mr. Moseley pursed his lips and considered the matter +ponderously. He regarded it as ill befitting an instructor of youth +to dispose of any subject in words of less than three +syllables.</p> +<p>"Your proteacute;geacute;, Judge Hollis, is an ambiguous +proposition. He possesses invention and originality, but he is +sadly lacking in sustained concentration."</p> +<p>"But if he studies," persisted the judge, "you think he may win +it?"</p> +<p><!-- Page 113 --> +Mr. Moseley wrinkled his brows and looked as if he were solving a +problem in Euclid. "Probably," he admitted; "but there is a most +insidious enemy with which he has to contend."</p> +<p>"An enemy?" repeated the judge, anxiously.</p> +<p>"My dear sir," said Mr. Moseley, sinking his voice to husky +solemnity, "the boy is stung by the tarantula of athletics!"</p> +<p>It was all too true. The Ambiguous Proposition had found, soon +after reaching Clayton, that base-ball was what he had been waiting +for all his life. It was what he had been born for, what he had +crossed the ocean for, and what he would gladly have died for.</p> +<p>There could have been no surer proof of his growing power of +concentration than that he kept a firm grasp on his academy work +during these trying days. It was a hand-to-hand fight with the +great mass of knowledge that had been accumulating at such a cruel +rate during the years he had <!-- Page 114 --> +spent out of school. He was making gallant progress when a +catastrophe occurred.</p> +<p>The great ball game of the season, which was to be played in +Lexington between the Clayton team and the Lexington nine, was set +for June 2. And June 2 was the day which cruel fate masked as +the board of trustees—had set for the academy examinations. +Sandy was the only member of the team who attended the academy, and +upon him alone rested the full agony of renunciation. His +disappointment was so utterly crushing that it affected the whole +family.</p> +<p>"Couldn't they postpone the game?" asked the judge.</p> +<p>"It was the second that was the only day the Lexingtons could +play," said Sandy, in black despair. "And to think of me sitting in +the bloomin' old school-room while Sid Gray loses the game in me +place!"</p> +<p>For a week before the great event he lived in retirement. The +one topic of conversation in town was the ball game, and he found +the strain too great to be borne. <!-- Page 115 --> +The team was to go to Lexington on the noon train with a mighty +company of loyal followers. Every boy and girl who could meet the +modest expenses was going, save the unfortunate victims of the +junior class at the academy. Annette Fenton had even had a dress +made in the Clayton colors.</p> +<p>As Sandy went into town on the important day, his heart was like +a rock in his breast. There was glorious sunshine everywhere, and a +cool little undercurrent of breezes stirred every leaf into a tiny +banner of victory. Up in the square, Johnson's colored band was +having a final rehearsal, while on the court-house steps the team, +glorious in new uniforms, were excitedly discussing the plan of +campaign. Little boys shouted, and old boys left their stores to +come out and give a bit of advice or encouragement to the waiting +warriors. Maidens in crisp lawn dresses and flying ribbons +fluttered about in a tremor of anticipation.</p> +<p>Sandy Kilday, with his cap pulled over <!-- Page 116 --> +his eyes, went up Back street. If he could not make the devil get +behind him, he at least could get behind the devil. Without a +moment's hesitation he would have given ten years of sober +middle-age life for that one glorious day of youth on the Lexington +diamond, with the victory to be fought for, and the grand stand to +be won.</p> +<p>He tried not to keep step with the music—he even tried to +think of quadratic equations—as he marched heroically on to +the academy. His was the face of a Christian martyr relinquishing +life for a good but hopeless cause.</p> +<p>Late that afternoon Judge Hollis left his office and walked +around to the academy. He had sympathized fully with Sandy, and +wanted, if possible, to find out the result of the examination +before going home. The report of the scholarship won would +reconcile him to his disappointment.</p> +<p>At the academy gate he met Mr. Moseley, who greeted him with a +queer smile. They both asked the same question:</p> +<!-- Page 117 --> +<p>"Where's Sandy?"</p> +<p>As if in answer, there came a mighty shout from the street +leading down to the depot. Turning, they saw a cheering, hilarious +crowd; bright-flowered hats flashed among college caps, while +shrill girlish voices rang out with the manly ones. Carried high in +the air on the shoulders of a dozen boys, radiant with praise and +success, sat the delinquent Sandy, and the tumult below resolved +itself into one mighty cheer:</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"><span>"Kilday, Kilday!<br /></span> <span>Won +the day.<br /></span> <span>Hooray!"<br /></span></div> +</div> +<p> </p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<!-- Page 118 --> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI</h2> +<p>"THE LIGHT THAT LIES"</p> +<p>During the summer Sandy worked faithfully to make amends for his +failure to win the scholarship. He had meekly accepted the torrent +of abuse which Mrs. Hollis poured forth, and the open disapproval +shown by the Meeches; he had winced under Martha's unspoken +reproaches, and groaned over the judge's quiet disappointment.</p> +<p>"You see, my boy," the judge said one day when they were alone, +"I had set my heart on taking you into the office after next year. +I had counted on the scholarship to put you through your last year +at the academy."</p> +<p>"It was the fool I was," cried Sandy, in deep contrition, "but +if ye'll trust me the <!-- Page 119 --> +one time more, may I die in me traces if I ever stir out of +them!"</p> +<p>So sincere was his desire to make amends that he asked to read +law with the judge in the evenings after his work was done. Nothing +could have pleased the judge more; he sat with his back to the lamp +and his feet on the window-sill, expounding polemics to his heart's +desire.</p> +<p>Sandy sat in the shadow and whittled. Sometimes he did not +listen at all, but when he did, it was with an intensity of +attention, an utter absorption in the subject, that carried him +straight to the heart of the matter. Meanwhile he was unconsciously +receiving a life-imprint of the old judge's native nobility.</p> +<p>From the first summer Sandy had held a good position at the +post-office. His first earnings had gone to a round little surgeon +on board the steamship <i>America</i>. But since then his funds had +run rather low. What he did not lend he contributed, and the result +was a chronic state of bankruptcy.</p> +<!-- Page 120 --> +<p>"You must be careful with your earnings," the judge warned. "It +is not easy to live within an income."</p> +<p>"Easier within it than without it, sir," Sandy answered from +deep experience.</p> +<p>After the Lexington episode Sandy had shunned Martha somewhat; +when he did go to see her, he found she was sick in bed.</p> +<p>"She never was strong," said Mrs. Meech, sitting limp and +disconsolate on the porch. "Mr. Meech and I never thought to keep +her this long. The doctor says it's the beginning of the end. She's +so patient it's enough to break your heart."</p> +<p>Sandy went without his dinner that day, and tramped to town and +back, in the glare of the noon sun, to get her a basket of fruit. +Then he wrote her a letter so full of affection and sympathy that +it brought the tears to his own eyes as he wrote. He took the +basket with the note and left them at her door, after which he +promptly forgot all about her. For his whole purpose in life these +days, aside from assisting the government <!-- Page 121 --> +in the distribution of mail and reading a musty old volume of +Blackstone, was learning to dance.</p> +<p>In ten days was the opening of the county fair, and Sandy had +received an invitation to be present at the fair hop, which was the +social excitement of the season. It was to be his introduction into +society, and he was determined to acquit himself with credit.</p> +<p>He assiduously practised the two-step in the back room of the +post-office when the other clerk was out for lunch; he tried +elaborate and ornate bows upon Aunt Melvy, who considered even the +mildest "reel chune" a direct communication from the devil. The +moment the post-office closed he hastened to Dr. Fenton's, where +Annette was taking him through a course of private lessons.</p> +<p>Dr. Fenton's house was situated immediately upon the street. +Opening the door, one passed into a small square hall where the +Confederate flag hung above a life-size portrait of General Lee. On +every side <!-- Page 122 --> +were old muskets and rusty swords, large pictures of decisive +battles, and maps of the siege of Vicksburg and the battle of Bull +Run. In the midst of this warlike atmosphere sat the +unreconstructed little doctor, wearing his gray uniform and his +gray felt hat, which he removed only when he ate and slept.</p> +<p>Here he ostensibly held office hours, but in reality he was +doing sentry duty. His real business in life was keeping up with +Annette, and his diversion was in the constant perusal of a slim +sheet known as "The Confederate Veteran."</p> +<p>It was Sandy's privilege to pass the lines unchallenged. In +fact, the doctor's strict surveillance diminished, and he was +occasionally guilty of napping at the post when Sandy was with +Annette.</p> +<p>"Come in, come in," he said one day. "Just looking over the +'Veteran.' Ever hear of Sam Davis? Greatest hero South ever knew! +That's his picture. Wasn't afraid of any damned Yankee that ever +pulled a trigger."</p> +<!-- Page 123 --> +<p>"Was he a rebel?" asked the unfortunate Sandy.</p> +<p>The doctor swelled with indignation. "He was a Confederate, sir! +I never knew a rebel."</p> +<p>"It was the Confederates that wore the gray?" asked Sandy, +trying to cover his blunder.</p> +<p>"They did," said the doctor. "I put it on at nineteen, and I'll +be buried in it. Yes, sir; and my hat. Wouldn't wear blue for a +farm. Hate the sight of it so, that I might shoot myself by +mistake. Ever look over these maps? This was the battle +of—"</p> +<p>A door opened and a light head was thrust out.</p> +<p>"Now, d-dad, you hush this minute! You've told him that over and +over. Sandy's my company. Come in here, Sandy."</p> +<p>A few moments later there was a moving of chairs, and Annette's +voice was counting, "One, two, three; one, two, three," while Sandy +went through violent contortions <!-- Page 124 --> +in his efforts to waltz. He had his tongue firmly between his teeth +and his eyes fixed on vacancy as he revolved in +furniture—destroying circles about the small parlor.</p> +<p>"That isn't right," cried Annette. "You've lost the time. You +d-dance with the chair, Sandy, and I'll p-play the p-piano."</p> +<p>"No, you don't!" he cried. "I'll dance with you and put the +chair at the piano, but I'll dance with no chair."</p> +<p>Annette sank, laughing and exhausted, upon the sofa and looked +up at him hopelessly. Her hair had tumbled down, making her look +more like a child than ever.</p> +<p>"You are so b-big," she said; "and you've got so m-many +feet!"</p> +<p>"The more of me to love ye."</p> +<p>"I wonder if you d-do?" She put her chin on her palms, looking +at him sidewise.</p> +<p>"Don't ye do that again!" he cried. "Haven't I passed ye the +warning never to <!-- Page 125 --> +look at me when you fix your mouth like that?"</p> +<p>She tried to call him a goose, though she knew that <i>g</i>'s +were fatal.</p> +<p>A moment later she sat at one end of the sofa in pretended +dudgeon, while Sandy tried to make his peace from the other.</p> +<p>"May the lightning strike me dead if I ever do it again without +the asking! I'll be good now—honest to goodness, Nettie. I'll +shut me eyes when you take the hurdles, and be blind to temptation. +Won't ye be putting me on about the hop now, and what I must +do?"</p> +<p>Annette counted her fraternity pins and tried to look severe. +She used them in lieu of scalps, and they encircled her neck, +fastened her belt, and on state occasions even adorned her +shoe-buckles.</p> +<p>"Well," she at last said, "to b-begin with, you must be nice to +everyb-body. You mustn't sit out more than one d-dance with one +g-girl, and you must b-break in on every dance I'm not sitting +out."</p> +<!-- Page 126 --> +<p>"Break in? Sit out?" repeated Sandy, realizing that the +intricacies of society are manifold.</p> +<p>"Of course," said his mentor. "Whenever you see the g-girl you +like dancing with any one else, you just p-put your hand on the +man's shoulder, and then she d-dances with you."</p> +<p>"And will they all stop for me?" cried Sandy, not understanding +at all why he should have the preference.</p> +<p>"Surely," said Annette. "And sitting out is when you like a girl +so m-much that you would rather take her away to some quiet little +corner and talk to her than to d-dance with her."</p> +<p>"That'll never be me," cried Sandy—"not while the band +plays."</p> +<p>"Shall we try it again?" she asked; and with much scoffing and +scolding on her part, and eloquent apologies and violent exertion +on his, they struggled onward toward success.</p> +<p>In the midst of the lesson there was a <!-- Page 127 --> +low whistle at the side window. Annette dropped Sandy's hands and +put her finger to her lips.</p> +<p>"It's Carter," she whispered. "D-dad doesn't allow him to come +here."</p> +<p>"Little's the wonder," grumbled Sandy.</p> +<p>Annette's eyes were sparkling at the prospect of forbidden +fruit. She tiptoed to the window and opened the shutter a few +inches.</p> +<p>At the opening Carter's face appeared. It was a pale, delicate +face, over-sensitive, over-refined, with the stamp of weakness on +every feature. His restless, nervous eyes were slightly bloodshot, +and there was a constant twitching about his lips. But as he pushed +back the shutter and leaned carelessly against the sill, there was +an easy grace in his figure and a devil-may-care light in his eyes +that would have stirred the heart of a maiden less susceptible than +the one who smiled upon him from between the muslin curtains.</p> +<p>He laughed lightly as he caught at a flying lock of her +hair.</p> +<!-- Page 128 --> +<p>"You little coward! Why didn't you meet me?"</p> +<p>She frowned significantly and made warning gestures toward the +interior of the room.</p> +<p>At the far window, standing with his back to them, was Mr. Sandy +Kilday. He was engaged in a fierce encounter with an unnamed +monster whose eyes were green. During his pauses for breath he +composed a few comprehensive and scathing remarks which he intended +to bestow upon Miss Fenton at his earliest convenience. Fickleness +was a thing not to be tolerated. She had confessed her preference +for him over all others; she must and should prove it. Just when +his indignation had reached the exploding-point, he heard his name +called.</p> +<p>"Sandy," cried Annette, "what do you think? Ruth is coming home! +Carter is on his way to the d-depot to meet her now. She's been +gone nearly a year. I never was so crazy to see anyb-body in all my +life."</p> +<p><!-- Page 129 --> +Sandy wheeled about. "Which depot?" he cried excitedly; and without +apologies or farewell he dashed out of the house and down the +street.</p> +<p>When the Pullman train came into the Clayton station, he was +leaning against a truck in a pose of studied indifference. Out of +the tail of his eye he watched the passengers alight.</p> +<p>There were the usual fat women and thin men, tired women with +children, and old women with baskets, but no sign of a small girl +with curls hanging down her back and dresses to her shoe-tops.</p> +<p>Suddenly he caught his breath. Standing in the car door, like a +saint in a niche, was a radiant figure in a blue traveling-suit, +with a bit of blue veil floating airily from her hat brim. She was +not the little girl he was looking for, but he transferred his +devotion at a bound; for long skirts and tucked-up curls rendered +her tenfold more worshipful than before.</p> +<p>He watched her descend from her pedestal, <!-- Page 130 --> +bestow an affectionate kiss upon her brother, then look eagerly +around for other familiar faces. In one heart-suspending instant +her eyes met his, she hesitated in confusion, then blushed and +bowed.</p> +<p>Sandy reeled home in utter intoxication of spirit. Even the town +pump wore a halo of glorified rosy mist.</p> +<p>At the gate he met Mrs. Hollis returning from a funeral. With a +sudden descent from his ethereal mood he pounced upon her and, in +spite of violent protestations, danced her madly down the walk and +deposited her breathless upon the milk-bench.</p> +<p>"He's getting worse all the time," she complained to Aunt Melvy, +who had watched the performance with great glee.</p> +<p>"Yas,'m," said Aunt Melvy, with a fond look at his retreating +figure. "He's jus' like a' Irish potato: when he ain't powerful +cold, he's powerful hot."</p> +<p> </p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<!-- Page 131 --> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII</h2> +<p>ANTICIPATION</p> +<p>The day before the fair Sandy employed a substitute at the +post-office, in order to give the entire day to preparation for the +festivities to come.</p> +<p>Early in the morning he went to town, where, after much +consultation and many changes of mind, he purchased a suit of +clothes. Then he rented the town dress-suit, to the chagrin of +three other boys who had each counted upon it for the coming +hop.</p> +<p>With the precious burden under his arm, Sandy hastened home. He +spread the two coats on the bed, placing a white shirt inside each, +and a necktie about each collar. Then he stood back and +admired.</p> +<!-- Page 132 --> +<p>"It's meself I can see in them both this minute!" he exclaimed +with delight.</p> +<p>His shoes were polished until they were resplendent, but they +lost much of their glory during subsequent practising of steps +before the mirror. He even brushed and cleaned his old clothes, for +he foresaw the pain of laying aside the raiment of Solomon for +dingy every-day garments.</p> +<p>Toward noon he went down-stairs to continue his zealous efforts +in the kitchen. This met with Aunt Melvy's instant disapproval.</p> +<p>"For mercy sake, git out ob my way!" she cried, as she squeezed +past the ironing-board to get to the stove. "I'll press yer pants, +ef you'll jus' take yourself outen de kitchen. Be sure don't burn +'em? Look a-heah, chile; I was pressin' pants 'fore yer paw was +wearin' 'em!"</p> +<p>Aunt Melvy's temper was a thing not to be trifled with when a +"protracted meeting" was in session. For years she had been the +black sheep in the spiritual fold. Her earnest desire to get +religion and the untiring <!-- Page 133 --> +efforts of the exhorters had alike proved futile. Year after year +she sat on the mourners' bench, seeking the light and failing each +time to "come th'u'."</p> +<p>This discouraging condition of affairs sorely afflicted her, and +produced a kind of equinoctial agitation in the Hollis kitchen.</p> +<p>Sandy went on into the dining-room, but he found no welcome +there. Mrs. Hollis was submerged in pastry. The county fair was her +one dissipation, and her highest ambition was to take premiums. +Every year she sent forth battalions of cakes, pies, sweet pickles, +beaten biscuit, crocheted doilies, and crazy-quilts to capture the +blue ribbon.</p> +<p>"Don't put the window up!" she warned Sandy. "I know it's +stifling, but I can't have the dust coming in. Why don't you go on +in the house?"</p> +<p>Mrs. Hollis always spoke of the kitchen and dining-room as if +they were not a part of the house.</p> +<p>"Can't ye tell me something that's good <!-- Page 134 --> +for the sunburn?" asked Sandy, anxiously. "It's a dressed-up +shooting-cracker I'll be resembling the morrow, in spite of me fine +clothes."</p> +<p>"Buttermilk and lemon-juice," recommended Mrs. Hollis, as she +placed the last marshmallow on the roof of a four-story cake.</p> +<p>Sandy would have endured any discomfort that day in order to add +one charm to his personal appearance. He used so many lemons there +were none left for the judge's lemonade when he came home for +dinner.</p> +<p>"Just home from the post-office?" he asked when he saw Sandy +enter the dining-room with his hat on.</p> +<p>"Jimmy Reed's doing my work to-day," Sandy said apologetically. +"And if you please, sir, I'll be keeping my hat on. I have just +washed my hair, and I want it to dry straight."</p> +<p>The judge looked at the suspicious turn of the thick locks +around the brim of the stiff hat and smiled.</p> +<!-- Page 135 --> +<p>"Vanitas vanitatum, et omnia vanitas," he quoted. "How many +pages of Blackstone to-day?"</p> +<p>Sandy made a wry face and winked at Mrs. Hollis, but she +betrayed him.</p> +<p>"He has been primping since sun-up," she said. "Anybody would +think he was going to get married."</p> +<p>"Sweet good luck if I was!" cried Sandy, gaily.</p> +<p>The judge put down his fork and laid his hand on Sandy's arm. +"You mustn't neglect the learning, Sandy. You've made fine +progress, and I'm proud of you. You've worked your way this far; +I'll help you to the top if you'll keep a steady head."</p> +<p>"That I'll do," cried Sandy, grasping his hand. "It's old +Moseley's promise I have for steady work at the academy. If I can't +climb the ladder, with you at one end and success at the other, +then I'm not much of a chicken—I mean I'm not much."</p> +<p>"Well, you better begin by leaving the girls alone," said Mrs. +Hollis as she moved <!-- Page 136 --> +the sugar out of his reach. "Just let one drive by the gate, and we +don't have any peace until you know who it is."</p> +<p>"By the way," said the judge, as he helped himself to a +corn-dodger and two kinds of preserves, "I'm sorry to see the +friendship that's sprung up between Annette Fenton and young +Nelson. I don't know what the doctor's thinking about to let it go +on. Nelson is hitting a pretty lively pace for a youngster. He'll +never live to reap his wild oats, though. He came into the world +with consumption, and I don't think he will be long getting out of +it. He's always getting into difficulty. I have had to fine him +twice in the past month for gambling. Do you see anything of him, +Sandy?"</p> +<p>"No," said Sandy, biting his lip. His pride had suffered more +than once at Carter's condescension.</p> +<p>"Martha Meech must be worse," said Mrs. Hollis. "The up-stairs +blinds have been closed all day."</p> +<p><!-- Page 137 --> +Sandy pushed back the apple-dumpling which Aunt Melvy had made at +his special request.</p> +<p>"Perhaps I can be helping them," he said as he rose from the +table.</p> +<p>When he came back he sat for a long time with his head on his +hand.</p> +<p>"Is she much worse?" asked Mrs. Hollis.</p> +<p>"Yes," said Sandy; "and it's little that I can do, though she's +coughing her life away. It's a shame—and a shame!" he cried +in hot rebellion.</p> +<p>All his vanity of the morning was dispelled by the tragedy +taking place next door. He paced back and forth between the two +houses, begging to be allowed to help, and proposing all sorts of +impossible things.</p> +<p>When inaction became intolerable, he plunged into his law books, +at first not comprehending a line, but gradually becoming more and +more interested, until at last the whole universe seemed to revolve +about a case that was decided in a previous century.</p> +<p>When he rose it was almost dusk, and he <!-- Page 138 --> +came back to the present world with a start. His first thought was +of Ruth and the rapturous prospect of seeing her on the morrow; a +swift doubt followed as to whether a white tie or a black one was +proper; then a sudden fear that he had forgotten how to dance. He +jumped to his feet, took a couple of steps—when he remembered +Martha.</p> +<p>The house seemed suddenly quiet and lonesome. He went from the +sitting-room to the kitchen, but neither Mrs. Hollis nor Aunt Melvy +was to be found. Returning through the front hall, he opened the +door to the parlor.</p> +<p>The sight that met him was somewhat gruesome. Everything was +carefully wrapped in newspapers. Pictures enveloped in newspapers +hung on the walls, newspaper chairs stood primly around a newspaper +table. In the dim twilight it looked like the very ghost of a +room.</p> +<p>Sandy threw open the window, and going over to the newspaper +piano, untied the wrappings. He softly touched the keys and +<!-- Page 139 --> +began to sing in an undertone. Old Irish love-songs, asleep in his +heart since they were first dropped there by the merry mother lips, +stirred and awoke. The accompaniment limped along lamely enough; +but the singer, with hat over his eyes and lemon-juice on his nose, +sang on as only a poet and lover can. His rich, full voice lingered +on the soft Celtic syllables, dwelt tenderly on the diminutive +endearments, while his heart, overcharged with sorrow and joy and +romance and dreams, spilled over in an ecstasy of song.</p> +<p>Next door, in an upper bedroom, a tired soul paused in its final +flight. Martha Meech, stretching forth her thin arms in the +twilight, listened as one might listen to the strains of an angel +choir.</p> +<p>"It's Sandy," she said, and the color came to her cheeks, the +light to her eyes. For, like Sandy, she had youth and she had love, +and life itself could give no more.</p> +<p> </p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<!-- Page 140 --> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII</h2> +<p>THE COUNTY FAIR</p> +<p>The big amphitheater at the fair grounds was filled as +completely and evenly as a new paper of pins. Through the air +floated that sweetest of all music to the childish ear—the +unceasing wail of expiring balloons; and childish souls were held +together in one sticky ecstasy of molasses candy and pop-corn +balls.</p> +<p>Behind the highest row of seats was a promenade, and in front of +the lowest was another. Around these circled a procession which, +though constantly varying, held certain recurring figures like the +charging steeds on a merry-go-round. There was Dr. Fenton, in his +tight Confederate suit; he had been circling in that same +procession <!-- Page 141 --> +at every fair for twenty years. There was the judge, lank of limb +and loose of joint, who stopped to shake hands with all the +strangers and invite them to take dinner in his booth, where Mrs. +Hollis reveled in a riot of pastry. A little behind him strutted +Mr. Moseley, sending search-lights of scrutiny over the crowd in +order to discover the academy boys who might be wasting their time +upon unlettered femininity.</p> +<p>At one side of the amphitheater, raised to a place of honor, was +the courting-box. Here the aristocratic youth of the country-side +met to measure hearts, laugh at the rustics, and enjoy the +races.</p> +<p>In previous years Sandy had watched the courting-box from below, +but this year he was in the center of it. Jests and greetings from +the boys, and cordial glances from maidens both known and unknown, +bade him welcome. But, in spite of his reception, and in spite of +his irreproachable toilet, he was not having a good time. With +hands in pockets and a scowl on his face, he stared +<!-- Page 142 --> +gloomily over the crowd. Twice a kernel of pop-corn struck his ear, +but he did not turn.</p> +<p>Above him, Annette Fenton was fathoms deep in a flirtation with +Carter Nelson; while below him, Ruth, in the daintiest of gowns and +the largest of hats, was wasting her sweetness on the desert +countenance of Sid Gray.</p> +<p>Sandy refused to seek consolation elsewhere; he sat like a +Spartan hero, and calmly watched his heart being consumed in the +flames.</p> +<p>This hour, for which he had been living, this longed-for +opportunity of being near Ruth and possibly of speaking to her, was +slipping away, and she did not even know he was there.</p> +<p>He became fiercely critical of Sid Gray. He rejoiced in his +stoutness and took grim pleasure in the fact that his necktie had +slipped up at the back. He looked at his hand as it rested on the +back of the seat; it was plump and white. Sandy held out +<!-- Page 143 --> +his own broad, muscular palm, hardened and roughened by work. Then +he put it in his pocket again and sighed.</p> +<p>The afternoon wore gaily on. Louder grew the chorus of balloons +and stickier grew the pop-corn balls. The courting-box was humming +with laughter and jest. The Spartan hero began to rebel. Why should +he allow himself to be tortured thus when there might be a way of +escape? He recklessly resolved to put his fate to the test. Rising +abruptly, he went down to the promenade and passed slowly along the +courting-box, scanning the occupants as if in search of some one. +It was on his fourth round that she saw him, and the electric shock +almost lost him his opportunity. He looked twice to make sure she +had spoken; then, with a bit of his heart in his throat and the +rest in his eyes, he went up the steps and awkwardly held out his +hand.</p> +<p>The world made several convulsive circuits in its orbit and the +bass drum performed a solo inside his head during the +<!-- Page 144 --> +moment that followed. When the tumult subsided he found a pair of +bright brown eyes smiling up at him and a small hand clasped in +his.</p> +<p>This idyllic condition was interrupted by a disturbance on the +promenade, which caused them both to look in that direction. Some +one was pushing roughly through the crowd.</p> +<p>"Hi, there, Kilday! Sandy Kilday!"</p> +<p>A heavy-set fellow was making his way noisily toward them. His +suit of broad checks, his tan shoes, and his large diamond stud +were strangers, but his little close-set eyes, protruding teeth, +and bushy hair were hatefully familiar.</p> +<p>Sandy started forward, and those nearest laughed when the +stranger looked at him and said:</p> +<p>"My guns! Git on to his togs! Ain't he a duke!"</p> +<p>Sandy got Ricks out of the firing-line, around the corner of the +courting-box. His face was crimson with mortification, but it never +occurred to him to be angry.</p> +<!-- Page 145 --> +<p>"What brought you back?" he asked huskily.</p> +<p>"Hosses."</p> +<p>"Are you going to drive this afternoon?"</p> +<p>"Yep. One of young Nelson's colts in the last ring. Say," he +added, "he's game, all right. Me and him have done biz before. Know +him?"</p> +<p>"Carter Nelson? Oh, yes; I know him," said Sandy, impatient to +be rid of his companion.</p> +<p>"Me and him are a winnin' couple," said Ricks. "We plays the +races straight along. He puts up the dough, and I puts up the tips. +Say, he's one of these here tony toughs; he won't let on he knows +me when he's puttin' on dog. What about you, Sandy? Makin' good +these days?"</p> +<p>"I guess so," said Sandy, indifferently.</p> +<p>"You ain't goin' to school yet?"</p> +<p>"That I am," said Sandy; "and next year, too, if the money holds +out."</p> +<p>"Golly gosh!" said Ricks, incredulously. "Well, I got to be +hikin' back. The next <!-- Page 146 --> +is my entry. I'll look you up after while. So-long!"</p> +<p>He shambled off, and Sandy watched his broad-checked back until +it was lost in the crowd.</p> +<p>That Ricks should have turned up at that critical moment seemed +a wilful prank on the part of fate. Sandy bit his lip and raged +inwardly. He had a wild impulse to rush back to Ruth, seize her +hand, and begin where he had left off. He might have done it, too, +had not the promenade happened to land Dr. Fenton before him at +that moment.</p> +<p>The doctor was behaving in a most extraordinary and unmilitary +way. He had stepped out of the ranks, and was performing strange +manoeuvers about a knothole that looked into the courting-box. When +he saw Sandy he opened fire.</p> +<p>"Look at her! Look at her!" he whispered. "Whenever I pass she +talks to Jimmy Reed on this side; but the moment she thinks I'm not +looking, sir, she talks <!-- Page 147 --> +to Nelson on the other! Kilday," he went on, shaking his finger +impressively, "that little girl is as slick as—a blame +Yankee! But she'll not outwit me. I'm going right up there and take +her home."</p> +<p>Sandy laughingly held his arm. It was not the first time the +doctor had confided in him. "No, no, doctor," he said; "I'll be the +watch-dog for ye. Let me go and stay with Annette, and if Carter +Nelson gets a word in her ear, it'll be because I've forgotten how +to talk."</p> +<p>"Will you?" asked the doctor, anxiously. "Nelson's a drunkard. +I'd rather see my little girl dead than married to him. But she's +wilful, Kilday; when she was just a baby she'd sit with her little +pink toes curled up for an hour to keep me from putting on her +shoes when she wanted to go barefoot! She's a fighter," he added, +with a gruff chuckle that ended in a sigh, "but she's all I've +got."</p> +<p>Sandy gripped him by the hand, then turned the corner into the +courting-box. <!-- Page 148 --> +Instantly his eager eyes sought Ruth, but she did not look up as he +passed.</p> +<p>He unceremoniously took his seat beside Annette, to the +indignation of little Jimmy Reed. It was hard to accept Carter's +patronizing tolerance, but a certain curve to his eyebrows and the +turn of his head served as perpetual reminders of Ruth.</p> +<p>Annette greeted Sandy effusively. She had found Jimmy entirely +too limber a foil to use with any degree of skill, and she knew +from past experience that Sandy and Carter were much better +matched. If Sid Gray had been there also, she would have been quite +happy. In Annette's estimation it was all a mistake about love +being a game for two.</p> +<p>"Who was your stylish friend?" she asked Sandy.</p> +<p>"Ricks Wilson," said Sandy, shortly.</p> +<p>Carter smiled condescendingly. "Your old business partner, I +believe?"</p> +<p>"Before he was yours," said Sandy.</p> +<p>This was not at all to Annette's taste. They were not even +thinking about her.</p> +<!-- Page 149 --> +<p>"How m-many dances do you want for to-night?" she asked +Sandy.</p> +<p>"The first four."</p> +<p>She wrote them on the corner of her fan. "Yes?"</p> +<p>"The last four."</p> +<p>"Yes?"</p> +<p>"And the four in between. What's that on your fan?"</p> +<p>"Nothing."</p> +<p>"But it is. Let me see."</p> +<p>"Will you look at it easy and not tell?" she whispered, taking +advantage of Carter's sudden interest in the judges' stand.</p> +<p>"Sure and I will. Just a peep. Come!"</p> +<p>She opened the fan half-way, and disclosed a tiny picture of +himself sewed on one of the slats.</p> +<p>"And it's meself that you care for, Annette!" he whispered. "I +knew it, you rascal, you rogue!"</p> +<p>"Let g-go my hand," she whispered, half laughing, half scolding. +"Look, Carter, what I have on my fan!" and, to Sandy's +<!-- Page 150 --> +chagrin, she opened the fan on the reverse side and disclosed a +picture of Nelson.</p> +<p>But Carter had neither eyes nor ears for her now. His whole +attention was centered on the ring, where the most important event +of the day was about to take place.</p> +<p>It was a trial of two-year-olds for speed and durability. There +were four entries—two bays, a sorrel, and Carter's own little +thoroughbred "Nettie." He watched her as she pranced around the +ring under Ricks's skilful handling; she had nothing to fear from +the bays, but the sorrel was a close competitor.</p> +<p>"Oh, this is your race, isn't it?" cried Annette as the band +struck up "Dixie." "Where's my namesake? The pretty one just +c-coming, with the ugly driver? Why, he's Sandy's friend, isn't +he?"</p> +<p>Sandy winced under her teasing, but he held his peace.</p> +<p>The first heat Nettie won; the second, the sorrel; the third +brought the grand stand to <!-- Page 151 --> +its feet. Even the revolving procession halted breathless.</p> +<p>"Now they're off!" cried Annette, excitedly. "Mercy, how they +g-go! Nettie is a little ahead; look, Sandy! She's gaining! No; the +sorrel's ahead. Carter, your driver is g-going too close! He's +g-going to smash in—Oh, look!"</p> +<p>There was a crash of wheels and a great commotion. Several women +screamed, and a number of men rushed into the ring. When Sandy got +there, the greater crowd was not around the sorrel's driver, who +lay in a heap against the railing with a broken leg and a bruised +head; it was around Ricks Wilson in angry protest and +indignation.</p> +<p>The most vehement of them all was Judge Hollis,—the big, +easy-going judge,—whose passion, once roused, was a thing to +be reckoned with.</p> +<p>"It was a dastardly piece of cowardice," he cried. "You all saw +what he did! Call the sheriff, there! I intend to prosecute him to +the full extent of the law."</p> +<p><!-- Page 152 --> +Ricks, with snapping eyes and snarling mouth, glanced anxiously +around at the angry faces. He was looking for Carter Nelson, but +Carter had discreetly departed. It was Sandy whom he spied, and +instantly called: "Kilday, you'll see me through this mess? You +know it wasn't none of my fault."</p> +<p>Sandy pushed his way to the judge's side. He had never hated the +sight of Ricks so much as at that moment.</p> +<p>"It's Ricks Wilson," he whispered to the judge—"the boy I +used to peddle with. Don't be sending him to jail, sir. +I'll—I'll go his bail if you'll be letting him go."</p> +<p>"Indeed you won't!" thundered the judge. "You to take money +you've saved for your education to help this scoundrel, this +rascal, this half murderer!"</p> +<p>The crowd shouted its approval as it opened for the sheriff. +Ricks was not the kind to make it easy for his captors, and a +lively skirmish ensued.</p> +<p><!-- Page 153 --> +As he was led away he turned to the crowd back of him and shook his +fist in the judge's face.</p> +<p>"You done this," he cried. "I'll git even with you, if I go to +hell fer it!"</p> +<p>The judge laughed contemptuously, but Sandy watched Ricks depart +with troubled eyes. He knew that he meant what he said.</p> +<p> </p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<!-- Page 154 --> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV</h2> +<p>A COUNCIL OF WAR</p> +<p>While the frivolous-minded of Clayton were bent upon the +festivities of fair week, it must not be imagined that the grave +and thoughtful contingent, which acts as ballast in every +community, was idle.</p> +<p>Mr. Moseley was a self-constituted leader in a crusade against +dancing. At his earnest suggestion, every minister in town agreed +to preach upon the subject at prayer-meeting the Wednesday evening +of the hop.</p> +<p>They held a preliminary meeting before services in the study of +the Hard-Shell Baptist Church. Mr. Moseley occupied the chair, a +Jove of righteousness dispensing <!-- Page 155 --> +thunderbolts of indignation to his satellites. A fringe of scant +hair retreated respectfully from the unadorned dome which crowned +his personal edifice. His manner was most serious and his every +utterance freighted with importance.</p> +<p>Beside him sat his rival in municipal authority, the Methodist +preacher. He had a short upper lip and a square lower jaw, and a +way of glaring out of his convex glasses that gave a comical +imitation of a bullfrog in debate. This was the first occasion in +the history of the town when he and Mr. Moseley had met in friendly +concord. For the last few days the united war upon a common enemy +had knitted their souls in a bond of brotherly affection.</p> +<p>When the half-dozen preachers had assembled, Mr. Moseley rose +with dignity. "My dear brethren," he began impressively, "the +occasion is one which permits of no trifling. The dancing evil is +one which has menaced our community for generations—a viper +to be seized and throttled with a <!-- Page 156 --> +firm hand. The waltz, the—the Highland fling, +the—the—"</p> +<p>"German?" suggested some one faintly.</p> +<p>"Yes, the german—are all invasions of the Evil One. The +crowded rooms, the unholy excitement, are degenerating and +debasing. I am glad to report one young soul who has turned from +temptation and told me only to-day of his intention of refraining +from partaking in the unrighteous amusement of this evening. That, +brethren, was the nephew of my pastor."</p> +<p>The little Presbyterian preacher, thus thrust into the light +cast from the halo of his regenerate nephew, stirred uneasily. He +was contemplating the expediency of his youthful kinsman in making +the lack of a dress-suit serve as a means of lightening his coming +examinations at the academy.</p> +<p>Mr. Moseley, now fully launched upon a flood of eloquence, was +just concluding a brilliant argument. "Look at the round dance!" he +cried. "Who can behold and not shudder?"</p> +<p><!-- Page 157 --> +Mr. Meech, who had not beheld and therefore could not shudder, +ventured a timid inquiry:</p> +<p>"Mr. Moseley, just what is a round dance?"</p> +<p>Mr. Moseley pushed back his chair and wheeled the table nearer +the window. "Will you just step forward, Mr. Meech?"</p> +<p>With difficulty Mr. Meech extricated himself from the corner to +which the pressure of so many guests had relegated him. He slipped +apologetically to the front and took his stand beneath the shadow +of Mr. Moseley's presence. Prayer-meeting being but a semi-official +occasion, he wore his second-best coat, and it had followed the +shrinking habit established by its predecessors.</p> +<p>"Now," commanded Mr. Moseley, "place your hand upon my +shoulder."</p> +<p>Mr. Meech did so with self-conscious gravity and serious +apprehensions as to the revelations to follow.</p> +<p>"Now," continued Mr. Moseley, "I place my arm about your +waist—thus."</p> +<!-- Page 158 --> +<p>"Surely not," objected Mr. Meech, in embarrassment.</p> +<p>But Mr. Moseley was relentless. "I assure you it is true. And +the other hand—" He stopped in grave deliberation. The +Methodist brother, who had been growing more and more overcharged +with suppressed knowledge, could contain himself no longer.</p> +<p>"That's not right at all!" he burst forth irritably. "You don't +hook your arm around like that! You hold the left arm out and saw +it up and down—like this."</p> +<p>He snatched the bewildered Mr. Meech from Mr. Moseley's embrace, +and humming a waltz, stepped briskly about the limited space, to +the consternation of the onlookers, who hastened to tuck their feet +under their chairs.</p> +<p>Mr. Meech, looking as if he were being backed into eternity, +stumbled on the rug and clutched violently at the table-cover. In +his downfall he carried his instructor with <!-- Page 159 --> +him, and a deluge of tracts from the table above followed.</p> +<p>In the midst of the confusion there was a sound from the church +next door. Mr. Meech sat up among the debris and listened. It was +the opening hymn for prayer-meeting.</p> +<p> </p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<!-- Page 160 --> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"></a>CHAPTER XV</h2> +<p>HELL AND HEAVEN</p> +<p>The events of the afternoon, stirring as they had been, were +soon dismissed from Sandy's mind. The approaching hop possessed +right of way over every other thought.</p> +<p>By the combined assistance of Mrs. Hollis and Aunt Melvy, he had +been ready at half-past seven. The dance did not begin until nine; +but he was to take Annette, and the doctor, whose habits were as +fixed as the numbers on a clock, had insisted that she should +attend prayer-meeting as usual before the dance.</p> +<p>In the little Hard-Shell Baptist Church the congregation had +assembled and services had begun before Mr. Meech arrived. He +appeared singularly flushed and breathless, <!-- Page 161 --> +and caused some confusion by giving out the hymn which had just +been sung. It was not until he became stirred by the power of his +theme that he gained composure.</p> +<p>In the front seat Dr. Fenton drowsed through the discourse. Next +to him, her party dress and slipper-bag concealed by a rain-coat, +sat Annette, hot and rebellious, and in anything but a prayerful +frame of mind. Beside her sat Sandy, rigid with elegance, his eyes +riveted on the preacher, but his thoughts on his feet. For, +stationary though he was, he was really giving himself the benefit +of a final rehearsal, and mentally performing steps of intricate +and marvelous variety.</p> +<p>"Stop moving your feet!" whispered Annette. "You'll step on my +dress."</p> +<p>"Is it the mazurka that's got the hiccoughs in the middle?" +asked Sandy, anxiously.</p> +<p>Mr. Meech paused and looked at them over his spectacles in +plaintive reproach.</p> +<p><!-- Page 162 --> +Then he wandered on into sixthlies and seventhlies of increasing +length. Before the final amen had died upon the air, Annette and +Sandy had escaped to their reward.</p> +<p>The hop was given in the town hall, a large, dreary-looking room +with a raised platform at one end, where Johnson's band introduced +instruments and notes that had never met before.</p> +<p>To Sandy it was a hall of Olympus, where filmy-robed goddesses +moved to the music of the spheres.</p> +<p>"Isn't the floor g-grand?" cried Annette, with a little run and +a slide. "I could just d-die dancing."</p> +<p>"What may the chalk line be for?" asked Sandy.</p> +<p>"That's to keep the stags b-back."</p> +<p>"The stags?" His spirits fell before this new complication.</p> +<p>"Yes; the boys without partners, you know. They have to stay +b-back of the chalk line and b-break in from there. You'll catch on +right away. There's your d-dressing-room <!-- Page 163 --> +over there. Don't bother about my card; it's been filled a week. Is +there anyb-body you want to dance with especially?"</p> +<p>Sandy's eyes answered for him. They were held by a vision in the +center of the room, and he was blinded to everything else.</p> +<p>Half surrounded by a little group stood Ruth Nelson, red-lipped, +bright-eyed, eager, her slender white-clad figure on tiptoe with +buoyant expectancy. The crimson rose caught in her hair kept +impatient time to the tap of her restless high-heeled slipper, and +she swayed and sang with the music in a way to set the sea-waves +dancing.</p> +<p>It was small matter to Sandy that the lace on her dress had +belonged to her great-grandmother, or that the pearls about her +round white throat had been worn by an ancestor who was lady in +waiting to a queen of France. He only knew she meant everything +beautiful in the world to him,—music and springtime and +dawn,—and that when she smiled it was sunlight in his +heart.</p> +<!-- Page 164 --> +<p>"I don't think you can g-get a dance there," said Annette, +following his gaze. "She is always engaged ahead. But I'll find +out, if you w-want me to."</p> +<p>"Would you, now?" cried Sandy, fervently pressing her hand. Then +he stopped short. "Annette," he said wistfully, "do you think +she'll be caring to dance with a boy like me?"</p> +<p>"Of course she will, if you k-keep off her toes and don't forget +to count the time. Hurry and g-get off your things; I want you to +try it before the crowd comes. There are only a few couples for you +to bump into now, and there will be a hundred after a while."</p> +<p>O the fine rapture of that first moment when Sandy found he +could dance! Annette knocked away his remaining doubts and fears +and boldly launched him into the merry whirl. The first rush was +breathless, carrying all before it; but after a moment's awful +uncertainty he settled into the step and glided away over the +shining floor, <!-- Page 165 --> +counting his knots to be sure, but sailing triumphantly forward +behind the flutter of Annette's pink ribbons.</p> +<p>He was introduced right and left, and he asked every girl he met +to dance. It made little difference who she happened to be, for in +imagination she was always the same. Annette had secured for him +the last dance with Ruth, and he intended to practise every moment +until that magic hour should arrive.</p> +<p>But youth reckons not with circumstance. Just when all sails +were set and he was nearing perfection, he met with a disaster +which promptly relegated him to the dry-dock. His partner did not +dance!</p> +<p>When he looked at her, he found that she was tall and thin and +vivacious, and he felt that she must have been going to hops for a +very long time.</p> +<p>"I hate dancing, don't you?" she said. "Let's go over there, out +of the crowd, and have a nice long talk."</p> +<p><!-- Page 166 --> +Sandy glanced at the place indicated. It seemed a long way from +base.</p> +<p>"Wouldn't you like to stand here and watch them?" he floundered +helplessly.</p> +<p>"Oh, dear, no; it's too crowded. Besides," she added playfully, +"I have heard <i>so</i> much about you and your awfully romantic +life. I just want to know all about it."</p> +<p>As a trout, one moment in mid-stream swimming and frolicking +with the best, finds himself suddenly snatched out upon the bank, +gasping and helpless, so Sandy found himself high and dry against +the wall, with the insistent voice of his captor droning in his +ears.</p> +<p>She had evidently been wound and set, and Sandy had unwittingly +started the pendulum.</p> +<p>"Have you ever been to Chicago, Mr. Kilday? No? It is such a +dear place; I simply adore it. I'm on my way home from there now. +All my men friends begged me to stay; they sent me so many flowers +I had to keep <!-- Page 167 --> +them in the bath-tub. Wasn't it darling of them? I just love men. +How long have you been in Clayton, Mr. Kilday?"</p> +<p>He tried to answer coherently, but his thoughts were in eager +pursuit of a red rose that flashed in and out among the +dancers.</p> +<p>"And you really came over from England by yourself when you were +just a small boy? Weren't you clever! But I know the captain and +all of them made a great pet of you. Then you made a walking tour +through the States; I heard all about it. It was just too romantic +for any use. I love adventure. My two best friends are at the +theological seminary. One's going to India,—he's a +blond,—and one to Africa. Just between us, I am going with +one of them, but I can't for the life of me make up my mind which. +I don't know why I am telling you all these things, Mr. Kilday, +except that you are so sweet and sympathetic. You understand, don't +you?"</p> +<p>He assured her that he did with more vehemence than was +necessary, for he did not <!-- Page 168 --> +want her to suspect that he had not heard what she said.</p> +<p>"I knew you did. I knew it the moment I shook hands with you. I +felt that we were drawn to each other. I am like you; I am just +full of magnetism."</p> +<p>Sandy unconsciously moved slightly away: he had a sudden +uncomfortable realization that he was the only one within the +sphere of influence.</p> +<p>After two intermissions he suggested that they go out to the +drug-store and get some soda-water. On the steps they met +Annette.</p> +<p>"You old f-fraud," she whispered to Sandy in passing, "I thought +you didn't like to sit out d-dances."</p> +<p>He smiled feebly.</p> +<p>"Don't you mind her teasing," pouted his partner; "if we like to +talk better than to dance, it's our own affair."</p> +<p>Sandy wished devoutly that it was somebody else's. When they +returned, they went back to their old corner. The chairs, evidently +considering them permanent occupants, <!-- Page 169 --> +assumed an air of familiarity which he resented.</p> +<p>"Do you know, you remind me of an old sweetheart of mine," +resumed the voice of his captor, coyly. "He was the first real +lover I ever had. His eyes were big and pensive, just like yours, +and there was always that same look in his face that just made me +want to stay with him all the time to keep him from being lonely. +He was awfully fond of me, but he had to go out West to make his +fortune, and he married before he got back."</p> +<p>Sandy sighed, ostensibly in sympathy, but in reality at his own +sad fate. At that moment Prometheus himself would not have envied +him his state of mind. The music set his nerves tingling and the +dancers beckoned him on, yet he was bound to his chair, with no +relief in view. At the tenth intermission he suggested soda-water +again, after which they returned to their seats.</p> +<p>"I hope people aren't talking about us," she said, with a +pleased laugh. "I oughtn't <!-- Page 170 --> +to have given you all these dances. It's perfectly fatal for a girl +to show such preference for one man. But we are so congenial, and +you do remind me—"</p> +<p>"If it's embarrassing to you—" began Sandy, grasping the +straw with both hands.</p> +<p>"Not one bit," she asserted. "If you would rather have a good +confidential time here with me than to meet a lot of silly little +girls, then I don't care what people say. But, as I was telling +you, I met him the year I came out, and he was interested in me +right off—"</p> +<p>On and on and on she went, and Sandy ceased to struggle. He sank +in his chair in dogged dejection. He felt that she had been talking +ever since he was born, and was going to continue until he died, +and that all he could do was to wait in anguish for the end. He +watched the flushed, happy faces whirling by. How he envied the +boys their wilted collars! After eons and eons of time the band +played "Home, Sweet Home."</p> +<p>"It's the last dance," said she. "Aren't <!-- Page 171 --> +you sorry? We've had a perfectly divine time—" She got no +further, for her partner, faithful through many numbers, had +deserted his post at last.</p> +<p>Sandy pushed eagerly through the crowd and presented himself at +Ruth's side. She was sitting with several boys on the stage steps, +her cheeks flushed from the dance, and a loosened curl falling +across her bare shoulder. He tried to claim his dance, but the +words, too long confined, rushed to his lips so madly as to form a +blockade.</p> +<p>She looked up and saw him—saw the longing and doubt in his +eyes, and came to his rescue.</p> +<p>"Isn't this our dance, Mr. Kilday?" she said, half smiling, half +timidly.</p> +<p>In the excitement of the moment he forgot his carefully +practised bow, and the omission brought such chagrin that he +started out with the wrong foot. There was a gentle, ripping sound, +and a quarter of a yard of lace trailed from the hem of his +partner's skirt.</p> +<!-- Page 172 --> +<p>"Did I put me foot in it?" cried Sandy, in such burning +consternation that Ruth laughed.</p> +<p>"It doesn't matter a bit," she said lightly, as she stooped to +pin it up. "It shows I've had a good time. Come! Don't let's miss +the music."</p> +<p>He took her hand, and they stepped out on the polished floor. +The blissful agony of those first few moments was intolerably +sweet.</p> +<p>She was actually dancing with him (one, two, three; one, two, +three). Her soft hair was close to his cheek (one, two, three; one, +two, three). What if he should miss a step (one, two, +three)—or fall?</p> +<p>He stole a glance at her; she smiled reassuringly. Then he +forgot all about the steps and counting time. He felt as he had +that morning on shipboard when the <i>America</i> passed the +<i>Great Britain</i>. All the joy of boyhood resurged through his +veins, and he danced in a wild abandonment of bliss; for the band +was playing "Home, Sweet <!-- Page 175 --> +Home," and to Sandy it meant that, come what might, within her +shining eyes his gipsy soul had found its final home.</p> +<!-- Page 173 (Illustration) --> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 443px;"><a name="i173" id= +"i173"></a> <img src="images/173.gif" width="443" height="700" alt= +"Illustration: Then he forgot all about the steps and counting time" /> +</div> +<!-- Page 174 (blank facing page) --> +<p>When the music stopped, and they stood, breathless and laughing, +at the dressing-room door, Ruth said:</p> +<p>"I thought Annette told me you were just learning to dance!"</p> +<p>"So I am," said Sandy; "but me heart never kept time for me +before!"</p> +<p>When Annette joined them she looked up at Sandy and smiled.</p> +<p>"Poor f-fellow!" she said sympathetically. "What a perfectly +horrid time you've had!"</p> +<p> </p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<!-- Page 176 --> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI"></a>CHAPTER XVI</h2> +<p>THE NELSON HOME</p> +<p>Willowvale, the Nelson homestead, lay in the last curve of the +river, just before it left the restrictions of town for the freedom +of fields and meadows.</p> +<p>It was a quaint old house, all over honeysuckles and bow-windows +and verandas, approached by an oleander-bordered walk, and +sheltered by a wide circle of poplar-and oak-trees that had nodded +both approval and disapproval over many generations of Nelsons.</p> +<p>In the dining-room, on the massive mahogany table, lunch was +laid for three. Carter sat at the foot, absorbed in a newspaper, +while at the head Mrs. Nelson languidly partook of her second +biscuit. It was vulgar, <!-- Page 177 --> +in her estimation, for a lady to indulge in more than two biscuits +at a meal.</p> +<p>When old Evan Nelson died six years before, he had left the bulk +of his fortune to his two grandchildren, and a handsome allowance +to his eldest son's widow, with the understanding that she was to +take charge of Ruth until that young lady should become of age.</p> +<p>Mrs. Nelson accepted the trust with becoming resignation. The +prospect of guiding a wealthy and obedient young person through the +social labyrinth to an eligible marriage wakened certain faculties +that had long lain dormant. It was not until the wealthy and +obedient young person began to develop tastes of her own that she +found the burden irksome.</p> +<p>Nine months of the year Ruth was at boarding-school, and the +remaining three she insisted upon spending in the old home at +Clayton, where Carter kept his dogs and horses and spent his +summers. Hitherto Mrs. Nelson had compromised with her. By +<!-- Page 178 --> +adroit management she contrived to keep her, for weeks at a time, +at various summer resorts, where she expected her to serve a sort +of social apprenticeship which would fit her for her future +career.</p> +<p>At nineteen Ruth developed alarming symptoms of obstinacy. Mrs. +Nelson confessed tearfully to the rest of the family that it had +existed in embryo for years. Instead of making the most of her +first summer out of school, the foolish girl announced her +intention of going to Willowvale for an indefinite stay.</p> +<p>It was indignation at this state of affairs that caused Mrs. +Nelson to lose her appetite. Clayton was to her the limit of +civilization; there was too much sunshine, too much fresh air, too +much out of doors. She disliked nature in its crude state; she +preferred it softened and toned down to drawing-room pitch.</p> +<p>She glanced up in disapproval as Ruth's laugh sounded in the +hall.</p> +<p>"<!-- Page 179 -->Rachel, tell her that lunch is waiting," she +said to the colored girl at her side.</p> +<p>Carter looked up as Ruth came breezily into the room. She wore +her riding-habit, and her hair was tossed by her brisk morning +canter.</p> +<p>"You don't look as if you had danced all night," he said. "Did +the mare behave herself?"</p> +<p>"She's a perfect beauty, Carter. I rode her round the old +mill-dam, 'cross the ford, and back by the Hollises'. Now I'm +perfectly famished. Some hot rolls, Rachel, and another croquette, +and—and everything you have."</p> +<p>Mrs. Nelson picked several crumbs from the cloth and laid them +carefully on her plate. "When I was a young lady I always slept +after being out in the evening. I had a half-cup of coffee and one +roll brought to me in bed, and I never rose until noon."</p> +<p>"But I hate to stay in bed," said Ruth; "and, besides, I hate to +miss a half-day."</p> +<!-- Page 180 --> +<p>"Is there anything on for this afternoon?" asked Carter.</p> +<p>"Why, yes—" Ruth began, but her aunt finished for her:</p> +<p>"Now, Carter, it's too warm to be proposing anything more. You +aren't well, and Ruth ought to stay at home and put cold cream on +her face. It is getting so burned that her pink evening-dresses +will be worse than useless. Besides, there is absolutely nothing to +do in this stupid place. I feel as if I couldn't stand it all +summer."</p> +<p>This being a familiar opening to a disagreeable subject, the two +young people lapsed into silence, and Mrs. Nelson was constrained +to address her communications to the tea-pot. She glanced about the +big, old-fashioned room and sighed.</p> +<p>"It's nothing short of criminal to keep all this old mahogany +buried here in the country, and the cut-glass and silver. And to +think that the house cannot be sold for two more years! Not until +Ruth is of age! <!-- Page 181 --> +What <i>do</i> you suppose your dear grandfather <i>could</i> have +been thinking of?"</p> +<p>This question, eliciting no reply from the tea-pot, remained +suspended in the air until it attracted Ruth's wandering +attention.</p> +<p>"I beg your pardon, aunt. What grandfather was thinking of? +About the place? Why, I guess he hoped that Carter and I would keep +it."</p> +<p>Carter looked over his paper. "Keep this old cemetery? Not I! +The day it is sold I start for Europe. If one lung is gone and the +other going, I intend to enjoy myself while it goes."</p> +<p>"Carter!" begged Ruth, appealingly.</p> +<p>He laughed. "You ought to be glad to get rid of me, Ruth. You've +bothered your head about me ever since you were born."</p> +<p>She slipped her hand into his as it lay on the table, and looked +at him wistfully.</p> +<p>"The idea of the old governor thinking we'd want to stay here!" +he said, with a curl of the lip.</p> +<!-- Page 182 --> +<p>"Perfectly ridiculous!" echoed Mrs. Nelson.</p> +<p>"I don't know," said Ruth; "it's more like home than any place +else. I don't think I could ever bear to sell it."</p> +<p>"Now, my dear Ruth," said Mrs. Nelson, in genuine alarm, "don't +be sentimental, I beg of you. When once you make your deacute;but, +you'll feel very different about things. Of course the place must +be sold: it can't be rented, and I'm sure you will never get me to +spend another summer in Clayton. You could not stay here +alone."</p> +<p>Ruth sat with her chin in her hands and gazed absently out of +the window. She remembered when that yard was to her as the garden +of Eden. As a child she had been brought here, a delicate, faded +little hot-house plant, and for three wonderful years had been +allowed to grow and blossom at will in the freedom of outdoor life. +The glamour of those old days still clung to the place, and made +her love everything connected with it. The front gate, with its +wide <!-- Page 183 --> +white posts, still held the records of her growth, for each year +her grandfather had stood her against it and marked her progress. +The huge green tub holding the crape myrtle was once a park where +she and Annette had played dolls, and once it had served as a +burying-ground when Carter's sling brought down a sparrow. The ice +house, with its steep roof, recalled a thrilling tobogganing +experience when she was six. Grandfather had laughed over the torn +gown, and bade her do it again.</p> +<p>It was the trees, though, that she loved best of all; for they +were friendly old poplar-trees on which the bark formed itself into +all sorts of curious eyes. One was a wicked old stepfather eye with +a heavy lid; she remembered how she used to tiptoe past it and +pretend to be afraid. Beyond, by the arbor, were two smaller trees, +where a coquettish eye on one looked up to an adoring eye on the +other. She had often built a romance about them as she watched them +peeping at each other through the leaves.</p> +<p><!-- Page 184 --> +Down behind the house the waving fields of blue-grass rippled away +to the little river, where weeping willows hung their heads above +the lazy water, and ferns reached up the banks to catch the +flowers. And the fields and the river and the house and the trees +were hers,—hers and Carter's,—and neither could sell +without the consent of the other. She took a deep breath of +satisfaction. The prospect of living alone in the old homestead +failed to appal her.</p> +<p>"A letter came this morning," said Mrs. Nelson, tracing the +crest on the silver creamer. "It's from your Aunt Elizabeth. She +wants us to spend ten days with her at the shore. They have taken a +handsome cottage next to the Warrentons. You remember young Mr. +Warrenton, Ruth? He is a grandson of Commodore Warrenton."</p> +<p>"Warrenton? Oh, yes, I do remember him—the one that didn't +have any neck."</p> +<p>Mrs. Nelson closed her eyes for a moment, as if praying for +patience; then she went on: "Your Aunt Elizabeth thinks, as I do, +<!-- Page 185 --> +that it is absurd for you to bury yourself down here. She wants you +to meet people of your own class. Do you think you can be ready to +start on Wednesday?"</p> +<p>"Why, we have been here only a week!" cried Ruth. "I am having +such a good time, and—" she broke off impulsively. "But I +know it's dull for you, Aunt Clara. You go, and leave me here with +Carter. I'll do everything you say if you will only let me +stay."</p> +<p>Carter laughed. "One would think that Ruth's sole aim in life +was to cultivate Clayton—the distinguished, exclusive, +aristocratic society of Clayton."</p> +<p>She put her hand on his arm and looked at him pleadingly: +"Please don't laugh at me, Carter! I love it here, and I want to +stay. You know Aunt Elizabeth; you know what her friends are like. +They think I am queer. I can't be happy where they are."</p> +<p>Mrs. Nelson resorted to her smelling-bottle. "Of course my +opinions are of no <!-- Page 186 --> +weight. I only wish to remind you that it would be most impolitic +to offend your Aunt Elizabeth. She could introduce you into the +most desirable set; and even if she is a little—" she +searched a moment for a word—"a little liberal in her views, +one can overlook that on account of her generosity. She is a very +influential woman, Ruth, and a very wealthy one."</p> +<p>Ruth made a quick, impatient gesture. "I don't like her, Aunt +Clara; and I don't want you to ask me to go there."</p> +<p>Mrs. Nelson folded her napkin with tragic deliberation. "Very +well," she said; "it is not my place to urge it. I can only point +out your duty and leave the rest to you. One thing I must speak +about, and that is your associating so familiarly with these +townspeople. They are impertinent; they take advantages, and forget +who we are. Why, the blacksmith had the audacity to refer to the +dear major as 'Bob.'"</p> +<p>"Old Uncle Dan?" asked Ruth, laughing. "I saw him yesterday, and +he shook hands <!-- Page 187 --> +with me and said: 'Golly, sissy, how you've growed!'"</p> +<p>"Ruth," cried Mrs. Nelson, "how can you! Haven't you <i>any</i> +family pride?" The tears came to her eyes, for the invitation to +visit the Hunter-Nelsons was one for which she had angled +skilfully, and its summary dismissal was a sore trial to her.</p> +<p>In a moment Ruth was at her side, all contrition: "I'm sorry, +Aunt Clara; I know I'm a disappointment to you. I'll +try—"</p> +<p>Mrs. Nelson withdrew her hand and directed her injured reply to +Carter. "I have done my duty by your sister. She has been given +every advantage a young lady could desire. If she insists upon +throwing away her opportunities, I can't help it. I suppose I am no +longer to be consulted—no longer to be considered." She +sought the seclusion of her pocket-handkerchief, and her pompadour +swayed with emotion.</p> +<p>Ruth stood at the table, miserably pulling a rose to pieces. +This discussion was an old one, but it lost none of its sting by +repetition. <!-- Page 188 --> +Was she queer and obstinate and unreasonable?</p> +<p>"Ruth's all right," said Carter, seeing her discomfort. "She +will have more sense when she is older. She's just got her little +head turned by all the attention she has had since coming home. +There isn't a boy in the county who wouldn't make love to her at +the drop of her eyelash. She was the belle of the hop last night; +had the boys about her three deep most of the time."</p> +<p>"The hop!" Mrs. Nelson so far forgot herself as to uncover one +eye. "Don't speak of that wretched affair! The idea of her going! +What do you suppose your Aunt Elizabeth would say? A country dance +in a public hall!"</p> +<p>"I only dropped in for the last few dances," said Carter, +pouring himself another glass of wine. "It was beastly hot and +stupid."</p> +<p>"I danced every minute the music played," cried Ruth; "and when +they played, 'Home, Sweet Home,' I could <!-- Page 189 --> +have begun and gone right through it again."</p> +<p>"By the way," said her brother, "didn't I see you dancing with +that Kilday boy?"</p> +<p>"The last dance," said Ruth. "Why?"</p> +<p>"Oh, I was a little surprised, that's all."</p> +<p>Mrs. Nelson, scenting the suggestion in Carter's voice, was +instantly alert.</p> +<p>"Who, pray, is Kilday?"</p> +<p>"Oh, Kilday isn't anybody; that's the trouble. If he had been, +he would never have stayed with that old crank Judge Hollis. The +judge thinks he is appointed by Providence to control this bright +particular burg. He is even attempting to regulate me of late. The +next time he interferes he'll hear from me."</p> +<p>"But Kilday?" urged Mrs. Nelson, feebly persistent.</p> +<p>"Oh, Kilday is good enough in his place. He's a first-class +athlete, and has made a record up at the academy. But he was a +peddler, you know—an Irish peddler; came <!-- Page 190 --> +here three or four years ago with a pack on his back."</p> +<p>"And Ruth danced with him!" Mrs. Nelson's words were punctuated +with horror.</p> +<p>Ruth looked up with blazing eyes. "Yes, I danced with him; why +shouldn't I? You made me dance with Mr. Warrenton, last summer, +when I told you he was drinking."</p> +<p>"But, my dear child, you forget who Mr. Warrenton is. And you +actually danced with a peddler!" Her voice grew faint. "My dear, +this must never occur again. You are young and easily imposed upon. +I will accompany you everywhere in the future. Of course you need +never recognize him hereafter. The impertinence of his addressing +you!"</p> +<p>A step sounded on the gravel outside. Ruth ran to the window and +spoke to some one below. "I'll be there as soon as I change my +habit," she called.</p> +<p>"Who is it?" asked her aunt, hastily arranging her disturbed +locks.</p> +<p>Ruth paused at the door. There was a <!-- Page 191 --> +slight tremor about her lips, but her eyes flashed their first open +declaration of independence.</p> +<p>"It's Mr. Kilday," she said; "we are going out on the +river."</p> +<p>There was an oppressive silence of ten minutes after she left, +during which Carter smiled behind his paper and Mrs. Nelson gazed +indignantly at the tea-pot. Then she tapped the bell.</p> +<p>"Rachel," she said impressively, "go to Miss Ruth's room and get +her veil and gloves and sun-shade. Have Thomas take them to the +boat-house at once."</p> +<p> </p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<!-- Page 192 --> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII"></a>CHAPTER XVII</h2> +<p>UNDER THE WILLOWS</p> +<p>Between willow-fringed banks of softest green, and under the +bluest of summer skies, the little river took its lazy Southern +way. Tall blue lobelias and golden flags played hide-and-seek in +the reflections of the gentle stream, and an occasional spray of +goldenrod, advance-guard of the autumn, stood apart, a silent +warning to the summer idlers.</p> +<p>Somewhere overhead a vireo, dainty poet of bird-land, proclaimed +his love to the wide world; while below, another child of nature, +no less impassioned, no less aching to give vent to the joy that +was bursting his being, sat silent in a canoe that swung softly +with the pulsing of the stream.</p> +<p><!-- Page 193 --> +For Sandy had followed the highroad that led straight into the Land +of Enchantment. No more wanderings by intricate byways up golden +hills to golden castles; the Love Road had led him at last to the +real world of the King Arthur days—the world that was lighted +by a strange and wondrous light of romance, wherein he dwelt, a +knight, waiting and longing to prove his valor in the eyes of his +lady fair.</p> +<p>Burning deeds of prowess rioted in his brain. Oh for dungeons +and towers and forbidding battlements! Any danger was welcome from +which he might rescue her. Fire, flood, or bandits—he would +brave them all. Meanwhile he sat in the prow of the boat, his hands +clasped about his knees, utterly powerless to break the spell of +awkward silence that seemed to possess him.</p> +<!-- Page 195 (Illustration) --> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 700px;"><a name="i195" id= +"i195"></a> <img src="images/195.gif" width="700" height="461" alt= +"Illustration: Burning deeds of prowess rioted in his brain" /></div> +<!-- Page 196 (blank facing page) --> +<p>They had paddled in under the willows to avoid the heat of the +sun, and had tied their boat to an overhanging bough.</p> +<p>Ruth, with her sleeve turned back to the elbow, was trailing her +hand in the cool <!-- Page 194 --> +water and watching the little circles that followed her fingers. +Her hat was off, and her hair, where the sun fell on it through the +leaves, was almost the color of her eyes.</p> +<p>But what was the real color of her eyes? Sandy brought all his +intellect to bear upon the momentous question. Sometimes, he +thought, they were as dark as the velvet shadows in the heart of +the stream; sometimes they were lighted by tiny flames of gold that +sparkled in the brown depths as the sunshine sparkled in the +shadows. They were deep as his love and bright as his hope.</p> +<p>Suddenly he realized that she had asked him a question.</p> +<p>"It's never a word I've heard of what ye are saying!" he +exclaimed contritely. "My mind was on your eyes, and the brown of +them. Do they keep changing color like that all the time?"</p> +<p>Ruth, thus earnestly appealed to, blushed furiously.</p> +<p>"I was talking about the river," she said quickly. "It's jolly +under here, isn't it? <!-- Page 197 --> +So cool and green! I was awfully cross when I came."</p> +<p>"You cross?"</p> +<p>She nodded her head. "And ungrateful, and perverse, and queer, +and totally unlike my father's family." She counted off her +shortcomings on her fingers, and raised her brows in comical +imitation of her aunt.</p> +<p>"A left-hand blessing on the one that said so!" cried Sandy, +with such ardor that she fled to another subject.</p> +<p>"I saw Martha Meech yesterday. She was talking about you. She +was very weak, and could speak only in a whisper, but she seemed +happy."</p> +<p>"It's like her soul was in Heaven already," said Sandy.</p> +<p>"I took her a little picture," went on Ruth; "she loves them so. +It was a copy of one of Turner's."</p> +<p>"Turner?" repeated Sandy. "Joseph Mallord William Turner, born +in London, 1775. Member of the Royal Academy. Died in 1851."</p> +<p><!-- Page 198 --> +She looked so amazed at this burst of information that he +laughed.</p> +<p>"It's out of the catalogue. I learned what it said about the +ones I liked best years ago."</p> +<p>"Where?"</p> +<p>"At the Olympian Exposition."</p> +<p>"I was there," said Ruth; "it was the summer we came home from +Europe. Perhaps that was where I saw you. I know I saw you +somewhere before you came here."</p> +<p>"Perhaps," said Sandy, skipping a bit of bark across the +water.</p> +<p>A band of yellow butterflies on wide wings circled about them, +and one, mistaking Ruth's rosy wet fingers for a flower, settled +there for a long rest.</p> +<p>"Look!" she whispered; "see how long it stays!"</p> +<p>"It's not meself would be blaming it for forgetting to go away," +said Sandy.</p> +<p>They both laughed, then Ruth leaned over the boat's side and +pretended to be absorbed in her reflection in the water. Sandy had +<!-- Page 199 --> +not learned that unveiled glances are improper, and if his lips +refrained from echoing the vireo's song, his eyes were less +discreet.</p> +<p>"You've got a dimple in your elbow!" he cried, with the air of +one discovering a continent.</p> +<p>"I haven't," declared she, but the dimple turned State's +evidence.</p> +<p>The sun had gone under a cloud as the afternoon shadows began to +lengthen, and a light tenderer than sunlight and warmer than +moonlight fell across the river. The water slipped over the stones +behind them with a pleasant swish and swirl, and the mint that was +crushed by the prow of their boat gave forth an aromatic +perfume.</p> +<p>Ever afterward the first faint odor of mint made Sandy close his +eyes in a quick desire to retain the memory it recalled, to bring +back the dawn of love, the first faint flush of consciousness in +the girlish cheeks and the soft red lips, and the quick, uncertain +<!-- Page 200 --> +breath as her heart tried not to catch beat with his own.</p> +<p>"Can't you sing something?" she asked presently. "Annette Fenton +says you know all sorts of quaint old songs."</p> +<p>"They're just the bits I remember of what me mother used to sing +me in the old country."</p> +<p>"Sing the one you like best," demanded Ruth.</p> +<p>Softly, with the murmur of the river ac-companying the song, he +began:</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"><span>"Ah! The moment was sad when my love and +I parted,<br /></span> <span class="i2">Savourneen deelish, signan +O!<br /></span> <span>As I kiss'd off her tears, I was nigh +broken-hearted!—<br /></span> <span class="i2">Savourneen +deelish, signan O!"<br /></span></div> +</div> +<p>Ruth took her hand out of the water and looked at him with +puzzled eyes. "Where have I heard it? On a boat somewhere, and the +moon was shining. I remember the refrain perfectly."</p> +<p>Sandy remembered, too. In a moment he <!-- Page 201 --> +felt himself an impostor and a cheat. He had stumbled into the +Enchanted Land, but he had no right to be there. He buried his head +in his hands and felt the dream-world tottering about him.</p> +<p>"Are you trying to remember the second verse?" asked Ruth.</p> +<p>"No," said he, his head still bowed; "I'm trying to help you +remember the first one. Was it the boat ye came over from Europe +in?"</p> +<p>"That was it!" she cried. "It was on shipboard. I was standing +by the railing one night and heard some one singing it in the +steerage. I was just a little girl, but I've never forgotten that +'Savourneen deelish,' nor the way he sang it."</p> +<p>"Was it a man'?" asked Sandy, huskily.</p> +<p>"No," she said, half frowning in her effort to remember; "it was +a boy—a stowaway, I think. They said he had tried to steal +his way in a life-boat."</p> +<p>"He had!" cried Sandy, raising his head and leaning toward her. +"He stole on <!-- Page 202 --> +board with only a few shillings and a bundle of clothes. He sneaked +his way up to a life-boat and hid there like a thief. When they +found him and punished him as he deserved, there was a little lady +looked down at him and was sorry, and he's traveled over all the +years from then to now to thank her for it."</p> +<p>Ruth drew back in amazement, and Sandy's courage failed for a +moment. Then his face hardened and he plunged recklessly on:</p> +<p>"I've blacked boots, and sold papers; I've fought dogs, and +peddled, and worked on the railroad. Many's the time I've been glad +to eat the scraps the workmen left on the track. And just because a +kind, good man—God prosper his soul!—saw fit to give me +a home and an education, I turned a fool and dared to think I was a +gentleman!"</p> +<p>For a moment pride held Ruth's pity back. Every tradition of her +family threw <!-- Page 203 --> +up a barrier between herself and this son of the soil.</p> +<p>"Why did you come to Kentucky?" she asked.</p> +<p>"Why?" cried Sandy, too miserable to hold anything back. +"Because I saw the name of the place on your bag at the pier. I +came here for the chance of seeing you again, of knowing for sure +there was something good and beautiful in the world to offset all +the bad I'd seen. Every page I've learned has been for you, every +wrong thought I've put out of me mind has been to make more room +for you. I don't even ask ye to be my friend; I only ask to be +yours, to see ye sometime, to talk to you, and to keep ye first in +my heart and to serve ye to the end."</p> +<p>The vireo had stopped singing and was swinging on a bough above +them.</p> +<p>Ruth sat very still and looked straight before her. She had +never seen a soul laid bare before, and the sight thrilled and +<!-- Page 204 --> +troubled her. All the petty artifices which the world had taught +her seemed useless before this shining candor.</p> +<p>"And—and you've remembered me all this time?" she asked, +with a little tremble in her voice. "I did not know people cared +like that."</p> +<p>"And you're not sorry?" persisted Sandy. "You'll let me be your +friend?"</p> +<p>She held out her hand with an earnestness as deep as his own. In +an instant he had caught it to his lips. All the bloom of the +summer rushed to her cheeks, and she drew quickly away.</p> +<p>"Oh! but I'll take it back—I never meant it," cried Sandy, +wild with remorse. "Me heart crossed the line ahead of me head, +that was all. You've given me your friendship, and may the sorrow +seize me if I ever ask for more!"</p> +<p>At this the vireo burst into such mocking, derisive laughter of +song that they both looked up and smiled.</p> +<p>"He doesn't think you mean it," said <!-- Page 205 --> +Ruth; "but you must mean it, else I can't ever be your friend."</p> +<p>Sandy shook his fist at the bird.</p> +<p>"You spalpeen, you! If I had ye down here I'd throw ye out of +the tree! But you mustn't believe him. I'll stick to my word as the +wind to the tree-tops. No—I don't mean that. As the stream to +the shore. No-"</p> +<p>He stopped and laughed. All figures of speech conspired to make +him break his word.</p> +<p>Somewhere from out the forgotten world came six long, lingering +strokes of a bell. Sandy and Ruth untied the canoe and paddled out +into midstream, leaving the willow bower full of memories and the +vireo still hopping about among the branches.</p> +<p>"I'll paddle you up to the bridge," said Ruth; "then you will be +near the post-office."</p> +<p>Sandy's voice was breaking to say that she could paddle him up +to the moon if she would only stay there between him and the +<!-- Page 206 --> +sun, with her hair forming a halo about her face. But they were +going down-stream, and all too soon he was stepping out of the +canoe to earth again.</p> +<p>"And will I have to be waiting till the morrow to see you?" he +asked, with his hand on the boat.</p> +<p>"To-morrow? Not until Sunday."</p> +<p>"But Sunday is a month off! You'll be coming for the mail?"</p> +<p>"We send for the mail," said Ruth, demurely.</p> +<p>"Then ye'll be sending in vain for yours. I'll hold it back till +ye come yourself, if I lose my position for it."</p> +<p>Ruth put three feet of water between them, then she looked up +with mischief in her eyes. "I don't want you to lose your +position," she said.</p> +<p>"Then you'll come?"</p> +<p>"Perhaps."</p> +<p>Sandy watched her paddle away straight into the heart of the +sun. He climbed the bank and waved her out of sight. He had +<!-- Page 207 --> +to use a maple branch, for his hat and handkerchief, not to mention +less material possessions, were floating down-stream in the boat +with Ruth.</p> +<p>"Hello, Kilday!" called Dr. Fenton from the road above. "Going +up-town? I'll give you a lift."</p> +<p>Sandy turned and looked up at the doctor impatiently. The +presence of other people in the world seemed an intrusion.</p> +<p>"I've been out to the Meeches' all afternoon," said the doctor, +wearily, mopping his face with a red-bordered handkerchief.</p> +<p>"Is Martha worse?" asked Sandy, in quick alarm.</p> +<p>"No, she's better," said the doctor, gruffly; "she died at four +o'clock."</p> +<p> </p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<!-- Page 208 --> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII"></a>CHAPTER +XVIII</h2> +<p>THE VICTIM</p> +<p>Some poet has described love as a little glow and a little +shiver; to Sandy it was more like a ravaging fire in his heart, +which lighted up a world of such unutterable bliss that he +cheerfully added fresh fuel to the flames that were consuming him. +The one absorbing necessity of his existence was to see Ruth daily, +and the amount of strategy, forethought, and subtilty with which he +accomplished it argued well for his future ability at the bar.</p> +<p>In the long hours of the night Wisdom urged prudence; she +presented all the facts in the case, and convinced him of his +folly. But with the dawn he threw discretion to <!-- Page 209 --> +the winds, and rushed valiantly forward, leading a forlorn hope +under cover of a little Platonic flag of truce.</p> +<p>With all the fervor and intensity of his nature he tried to fit +himself to Ruth's standards. Every unconscious suggestion that she +let fall, through word, or gesture, or expression, he took to heart +and profited by. With almost passionate earnestness he sought to be +worthy of her. Fighting, climbing, struggling upward, he closed his +eyes to the awful depth to which he would fall if his quest were +vain.</p> +<p>Meanwhile his cheeks became hollow and he lost his appetite. The +judge attributed it to Martha Meech's death; for Sandy's genuine +grief and his continued kindness to the bereft neighbors confirmed +an old suspicion. Mrs. Hollis thought it was malaria, and dosed him +accordingly. It was Aunt Melvy who made note of his symptoms and +diagnosed his case correctly.</p> +<p>"He's sparkin' some gal, Miss Sue; dat's what ails him," she +said one evening <!-- Page 210 --> +as she knelt on the sitting-room hearth to kindle the first fire of +the season. "Dey ain't but two t'ings onder heaben dat'll keep a +man f'om eatin'. One's a woman, t' other is lack ob food."</p> +<p>Judge Hollis looked over his glasses and smiled.</p> +<p>"Who do you think the lady is, Melvy?"</p> +<p>Aunt Melvy wagged her head knowingly as she held a paper across +the fireplace to start the blaze.</p> +<p>"I ain't gwine tell no tales on Mist' Sandy. But yer can't fool +dis heah ole nigger. I mind de signs; I knows mo' 'bout de young +folks in dis heah town den dey t'ink I do. Fust t'ing you know, I'm +gwine tell on some ob 'em, too. I 'spect de doctor would put' near +die ef he knowed dat Miss Annette was a-havin' incandescent +meetin's wif Carter Nelson 'most ever' day."</p> +<p>"Is Sandy after Annette, too?"</p> +<p>"No, sonny, no!" said Aunt Melvy, to whom all men were "sonny" +until they died of old age. "Mist' Sandy he's aimin' at +<!-- Page 211 -->high game. He's fix' his eyeball on de +shore-'nough quality."</p> +<p>"Do you mean Ruth Nelson?" asked Mrs. Hollis, snapping her +scissors sharply. "He surely wouldn't be fool enough to think she +would look at him. Why, the Nelsons think they are the only +aristocratic people that ever lived in Clayton. If they had paid +less attention to their ancestors and more to their descendants, +they might have had a better showing."</p> +<p>"I nebber said it was Miss Rufe," said Aunt Melvy from the +doorway; "but den ag'in I don't say hit ain't."</p> +<p>"Well, I hope it's not," said the judge to his wife as he laid +down his paper; "though I must say she is as pretty and friendly a +girl as I ever saw. No matter how long she stays away, she is +always glad to see everybody when she comes back. Some of old +Evan's geniality must have come down to her."</p> +<p>"Geniality!" cried Mrs. Hollis. "It was mint-juleps and brandy +and soda. He was <!-- Page 212 -->just as snobbish as the rest of +them when he was sober. If she has any good in her, it's from her +mother's side of the house."</p> +<p>"I hope Sandy isn't interested there," went on the judge, +thoughtfully. "It would not do him any good, and would spoil his +taste for what he could get. How long has it been going on, +Sue?"</p> +<p>"He's been acting foolish for a month, but it gets worse all the +time. He moons around the house, with his head in the clouds, and +sits up half the night hanging out of his window. He has raked out +all those silly old poetry-books of yours, and I find them strewn +all over the house. Here's one now; look at those pencil-marks all +round the margin!"</p> +<p>"Some of the marks were there before," said the judge, as he +read the title.</p> +<p>"Then there are more fools than one in the world. Here is where +he has turned down a leaf. Now just read that bosh and +nonsense!"</p> +<p><!-- Page 213 -->The judge took the book from her hand and read +with a reminiscent smile:</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"><span>"When cold in the earth lies the friend +thou hast loved,<br /></span> <span class="i2">Be his faults and +his follies forgot by thee then;<br /></span> <span>Or if from +their slumber the veil be removed,<br /></span> <span class= +"i2">Weep o'er them in silence and close it again.<br /></span> +<span>And, oh! if 't is pain to remember how far<br /></span> +<span class="i2">From the pathway of light he was tempted to +roam,<br /></span> <span>Be it bliss to remember that thou wert the +star<br /></span> <span class="i2">That arose on his darkness and +guided him home."<br /></span></div> +</div> +<p>The judge paused, with his eyes on the fire; then he said: "I +think I'll wait up for the boy to-night, Sue. I want to tell him +the good news myself. You haven't spoken of it?"</p> +<p>"No, indeed. I haven't seen him since breakfast. Melvy says he +spends his spare time on the river. That's what's giving him the +malaria, too, you mark my words."</p> +<p>It was after eleven when Sandy's step sounded on the porch. At +the judge's call he opened the sitting-room door and stood +<!-- Page 214 --> +dazed by the sudden light. The judge noticed that he was pale and +dejected, and he suppressed a smile over the imaginary troubles of +youth.</p> +<p>"What's the matter? Are you sick?" he asked.</p> +<p>"No, sir."</p> +<p>"Come in to the fire; it's a bit chilly these nights."</p> +<p>Sandy dropped listlessly into a chair, with his back to the +light.</p> +<p>"There are several things I want to talk over," continued the +judge. "One is about Ricks Wilson. He has behaved very badly ever +since that affair in August. Everybody who goes near the jail comes +away with reports of his threats against me. He seems to think I am +holding his trial over until January, when the fact is I have been +trying to get him released on your account. It is of no use, +though; he will have to wait his turn."</p> +<p>"I'm sorry, sir," said Sandy, without looking up.</p> +<!-- Page 215 --> +<p>"Then there's Carter Nelson encouraging him in his feeling +against me. It seems that Nelson wants the fellow to drive for him +at the fall trots, and he has given me no end of trouble about +getting him off. What an insolent fellow Nelson is! He talked very +ugly in my office yesterday, and made various threats about making +me regret any interference. I wouldn't have stood it from any one +else; but Carter is hardly responsible. I have watched him from the +time he was born. He came into the world with a mortal illness, and +I doubt if he ever had a well day in his life. He's a degenerate, +Sandy; he's bearing the sins of a long line of dissolute ancestors. +We have to be patient with men like that; we have to look on them +as we do on the insane."</p> +<p>He waited for some response, but, getting none, pulled his chair +in confidential proximity and laid his hand on Sandy's knee. +"However, that's neither here nor there," he said. "I have a +surprise for you. I <!-- Page 216 --> +couldn't let you go to bed without telling you about it. It's about +your future, Sandy. I've been talking it over with Mr. Moseley, and +he is confident—"</p> +<p>Suddenly Sandy rose and stood by the table.</p> +<p>"Don't be making any more plans for me," he said desperately; +"I've made up me mind to enlist."</p> +<p>"Enlist! In the army?"</p> +<p>"Yes; I've got to get away. I must go so far that I can't come +back; and, judge—I want to go to-morrow!"</p> +<p>"Is it money matters?"</p> +<p>A long silence followed—of the kind that ripens +confidence. Presently Sandy lifted his haggard eyes: "It's nothing +I'm ashamed of, judge; ye must take me word for that. It's like +taking the heart out of me body to go, but I've made up me mind. +Nothing on earth can change me purpose; I enlist on the +morrow."</p> +<p>The judge looked at him long and earnestly <!-- Page 217 --> +over his glasses, then he asked in calm, judicial tones: "Is her +answer final?"</p> +<p>Sandy started from his chair. How finite intelligence could have +discovered the innermost secret of his soul seemed little short of +miraculous. But the relief of being able to pour out his feelings +mastered all other considerations.</p> +<p>"Oh, sir, there was never a question. Like the angel she is, she +let me be near her so long as I held my peace; but, fool that I am, +I break me promise again and again. I can't keep silent when I see +her. The truth would burst from me lips if I was dumb."</p> +<p>"And you think you would be better if you were out of her +sight?"</p> +<p>"Is a starving man better when he is away from food?" asked +Sandy, fiercely. "Heaven knows it's not of meself I'm thinking. +It's breaking her tender heart to see me misery staring her in the +face, and I'll put it out of her sight."</p> +<p>"Is it Ruth?" asked the judge.</p> +<p><!-- Page 218 --> +Sandy assented with bowed head.</p> +<p>The judge got up and stood before the fire.</p> +<p>"Didn't you know," he began as kindly as he could put it, "that +you were not in her—that is, that she was not of +your—"</p> +<p>Sandy lifted blazing eyes, hot with the passion of youth.</p> +<p>"If she'd been in heaven and I'd been in hell, I'd have +stretched out my arms to her still!"</p> +<p>Something in his eyes, in his voice, in his intensity, brought +the judge to his side.</p> +<p>"How long has this thing been going on?" he asked seriously.</p> +<p>"Four years!"</p> +<p>"Before you came here?"</p> +<p>"Yes."</p> +<p>"You followed her here?"</p> +<p>"Yes."</p> +<p>Whereupon the judge gave vent to the one profane word in his +vocabulary.</p> +<p>Then Sandy, having confided so far, made a clean breast of it, +breaking down <!-- Page 219 --> +at the end when he tried to describe Ruth's goodness and the sorrow +his misery had caused her.</p> +<p>When it was over the judge had hold of his hand and was +bestowing large, indiscriminate pats upon his head and +shoulders.</p> +<p>"It's hard luck, Sandy; hard luck. But you must brace up, boy. +Everybody wants something in the world he can't get. We all go +under, sooner or later, with some wish ungratified. Now I've always +wanted—" he pressed his fingers on his lips for a moment, +then went on—"the one thing I've wanted was a son. It seemed +to me there was nothing else in the world would make up to me for +that lack. I had money more than enough, and health and friends; +but I wanted a boy. When you came I said to Sue: 'Let's keep him a +while just to see how it would feel.' It's been worth while, Sandy; +you have done me credit. It almost seemed as if the Lord didn't +mean me to be disappointed, after all. And to-day, when Mr. Moseley +said you ought to have a year <!-- Page 220 --> +or two at the big university, I said: 'Why not? He's just like my +own. I'll send him this year and next, and then he can come home +and be a comfort to me all the rest of my days.' That's what I was +sitting up to tell you, Sandy; but now—"</p> +<p>"And ye sha'n't be disappointed!" cried Sandy. "I'll go anywhere +you say, do anything you wish. Only you wouldn't be asking me to +stay here?"</p> +<p>"Not now, Sandy; not for a while."</p> +<p>"Never!—so long as she's here. I'll never bring me sorrow +between her and the sun again-so help me, Heaven! And if the Lord +gives me strength, I'll never see her face again, so long as I +live!"</p> +<p>"Go to bed, boy; go to bed. You are tired out. We will ship you +off to the university next week."</p> +<p>"Can't I be going to-morrow? Friday, then? I'd never dare trust +meself over the week."</p> +<p>"Friday, then. But mind, no more prancing to-night; we must both +go to bed."</p> +<p><!-- Page 221 --> +Neither of them did so, however. Sandy went to his room and sat in +his window, watching a tiny light that flickered, far across the +valley, in the last bend of the river before it left the town. His +muscles were tense, his nerves a-tingle, as he strained his eyes in +the darkness to keep watch of the beacon. It was the last glimpse +of home to a sailor who expected never to return.</p> +<p>Down in the sitting-room the judge was lost in the pages of a +worn old copy of Tom Moore. He fingered the pages with a tenderness +of other days, and lingered over the forgotten lines with a +half-quizzical, half-sad smile on his lips. For he had been a lover +once, and Sandy's romance stirred dead leaves in his heart that +sent up a faint perfume of memory.</p> +<p>"Yes," he mused half aloud; "I marked that one too:</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"><span>"Be it bliss to remember that thou wert +the star<br /></span> <span class="i3">That arose on his darkness +and guided him home."<br /></span></div> +</div> +<p> </p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<!-- Page 222 --> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIX" id="CHAPTER_XIX"></a>CHAPTER XIX</h2> +<p>THE TRIALS OF AN ASSISTANT POSTMASTER</p> +<p>By all laws of mercy the post-master in a small town should be +old and mentally near-sighted. Jimmy Reed was young and curious. He +had even yielded to temptation once in removing a stamp on a letter +from Annette Fenton to a strange suitor. Not that he wanted to +delay the letter. He only wanted to know if she put tender messages +under the stamp when she wrote to other people.</p> +<p>During the two years Sandy remained at the university, Jimmy +handed his letters out of the post-office window to the judge once +a week, following them half-way with his body to pick up the verbal +crumbs of interest the judge might let fall while perusing +<!-- Page 223 --> + them. The supremacy which Sandy had established in the base-ball +days had lent him a permanent halo in the eyes of the younger boys +of Clayton. "Letter from Sandy this morning," Jimmy would announce, +adding somewhat anxiously, "Ain't he on the team yet?"</p> +<p>The judge was obliging and easy-going, and he frequently +gratified Jimmy's curiosity.</p> +<p>"No; he's studying pretty hard these days. He says he is through +with athletics."</p> +<p>"Does he like it up there?"</p> +<p>"Oh, yes, yes; I guess he likes it well enough," the judge would +answer tentatively; "but I am afraid he's working too hard."</p> +<p>"Looks like a pity to spoil such a good pitcher," said Jimmy, +thoughtfully. "I never saw him lose but one game, and that nearly +killed him."</p> +<p>"Disappointment goes hard with him," said the judge, and he +sighed.</p> +<p><!-- Page 224 -->Jimmy's chronic interest developed into acute +curiosity the second winter—about the time the Nelsons +returned to Clayton after a long absence.</p> +<p>On Thanksgiving morning he found two letters bearing his hero's +handwriting. One was to Judge Hollis and one to Miss Ruth Nelson. +The next week there were also two, both of which went to Miss +Nelson. After that it became a regular occurrence.</p> +<p>Jimmy recognized two letters a week from one person to one +person as a danger-signal. His curiosity promptly rose to +fever-heat. He even went so far as to weigh the letters, and +roughly to calculate the number of pages in each. Once or twice he +felt something hard inside, and upon submitting the envelop to his +nose, he distinguished the faint fragrance of pressed flowers. It +was perhaps a blessing in disguise that the duty of sorting the +outgoing mail did not fall to his lot. One added bit of information +would have resulted in spontaneous combustion.</p> +<p><!-- Page 225 --> +By and by letters came daily, their weight increasing until they +culminated, about Christmas-time, in a special-delivery letter +which bristled under the importance of its extra stamp.</p> +<p>The same morning the telegraph operator stopped in to ask if the +Nelsons had been in for their mail. "I have a message for Miss +Nelson, but I thought they started for California this +morning."</p> +<p>"It's to-morrow morning they go," said Jimmy. "I'll send the +message out. I've got a special letter for her, and they can both +go out by the same boy."</p> +<p>When the operator had gone, Jimmy promptly unfolded the yellow +slip, which was innocent of envelop.</p> +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>Do not read special-delivery letter. Will explain.</p> +<p>S.K.</p> +</div> +<p>For some time he sat with the letter in one hand and the message +in the other. Why had Sandy written that huge letter if he did not +want her to read it? Why didn't <!-- Page 226 --> +he want her to read it? Questions buzzed about him like bees.</p> +<p>Large ears are said to be indicative of an inquisitive nature. +Jimmy's stood out like the handles on a loving-cup. With all this +explosive material bottled up in him, he felt like a torpedo-boat +deprived of action.</p> +<p>After a while he got up and went into the drug-store next door. +When he came back he made sure he was alone in the office. Then he +propped up the lid of his desk with the top of his head, in a +manner acquired at school, and hiding behind this improvised +screen, he carefully took from his pocket a small bottle of +gasolene. Pouring a little on his handkerchief, he applied it to +the envelop of the special-delivery letter.</p> +<p>As if by magic, the words within showed through; and by frequent +applications of the liquid the engrossed Jimmy deciphered the +following:</p> +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>—like the moan of the sea in my heart, and it<br /> +will not be still. Heart, body, and soul will call<br /> +to you, Ruth, so long as the breath is in my body.<br /> +<!-- Page 227 --> +I have not the courage to be your friend. I swear,<br /> +with all the strength I have left, never to see you<br /> +nor write you again. God bless you, my—</p> +</div> +<p>A noise at the window brought Jimmy to the surface. It was +Annette Fenton, and she seemed nervous and excited.</p> +<p>"Mercy, Jimmy! What's the m-matter? You looked like you were +caught eating doughnuts in study hour. What a funny smell! Say, +Jimmy; don't you want to do something for me?"</p> +<p>Jimmy had spent his entire youth in urging her to accept +everything that was his, and he hailed this as a good omen.</p> +<p>"I have a l-letter here for dad," she went on, fidgeting about +uneasily and watching the door. "I don't want him to g-get it until +after the last train goes to-night. Will you see that he d-doesn't +get it before nine o'clock?"</p> +<p>Jimmy took the letter and looked blankly from it to Annette.</p> +<p>"Why, it's from you!"</p> +<p>"What if it is, you b-booby?" she cried <!-- Page 228 --> +sharply; then she changed her tactics and looked up appealingly +through the little square window.</p> +<p>"Oh, Jimmy, do help me out! That's a d-dear! I'm in no end of a +scrape. You'll do as I ask, now w-w-won't you?"</p> +<p>Jimmy surrendered on the spot.</p> +<p>"Now," said Annette, greatly relieved, "find out what time the +d-down train starts, and if it's on time."</p> +<p>"It ought to start at three," reported Jimmy after consulting +the telegraph operator. "It's an hour late on account of the snow. +Expecting somebody?"</p> +<p>She shook her head.</p> +<p>"Going to the city yourself?"</p> +<p>"Of course not. Whatever made you think that?" she cried with +unnecessary vehemence. Then, changing the subject abruptly, she +added: "G-guess who has come home?"</p> +<p>"Who?" cried Jimmy, with palpitating ears.</p> +<p>"Sandy Kilday. You never saw anybody <!-- Page 229 --> +look so g-grand. He's gotten to be a regular swell, and he walks +like this."</p> +<p>Annette held her umbrella horizontally, squared her shoulders, +and swung bravely across the room.</p> +<p>"Sandy Kilday?" gasped Jimmy, with a clutch at the letter in his +pocket. "Where's he at?"</p> +<p>"He's trying to get up from the d-depot. He has been an hour +coming two squares. Everybody has stopped him, from Mr. Moseley on +down to the b-blacksmith's twins."</p> +<p>"Is he coming this way?" asked Jimmy, wild-eyed and anxious.</p> +<p>Annette stepped to the window.</p> +<p>"Yes; they are crossing the street now." She opened the sash +and, snatching a handful of snow, rolled it into a ball, which she +sailed out of the window. It was promptly answered by one from +below, which whirled past her and shattered itself against the +wall.</p> +<p>"Dare, dare, double dare!" she called as she flung handfuls of +loose snow from the <!-- Page 230 --> +window-ledge. A quick volley of balls followed, then the door burst +open. Sandy and Ruth Nelson stood laughing on the threshold.</p> +<p>"Hello, partner!" sang out Sandy to Jimmy. "Still at the old +work, I see! Do you mind how you taught me to count the change when +I first sold stamps?"</p> +<p>Jimmy tried to smile, but his effort was a failure. The +interesting tangle of facts and circumstances faded from his mind, +and he resorted instinctively to nature's first law. With an +agitated countenance, he sought self-preservation by waving Sandy's +letter behind him in a frantic effort to banish, if possible, the +odor of his guilt.</p> +<p>Sandy stayed at the door with Annette, but Ruth came to the +window and asked for her mail. When she smiled at the contrite +Jimmy she scattered the few remaining ideas that lingered in his +brain. With crimson face and averted eyes, he handed her the +letter, forgetting that telegrams existed.</p> +<p><!-- Page 231 --> +He saw her send a quick, puzzled glance from the letter to Sandy; +he saw her turn away from the door and tear open the envelop; then, +to his everlasting credit, he saw no more.</p> +<p>When he ventured forth from behind his desk the office was +empty. He made a cautious survey of the premises; then, opening a +back window, he seized a small bottle by the neck and hurled it +savagely against the brick wall opposite.</p> +<p> </p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<!-- Page 232 --> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XX" id="CHAPTER_XX"></a><b>CHAPTER XX</b></h2> +<p>THE IRONY OF CHANCE</p> +<p>The snow, which had begun as an insignificant flurry in the +morning, developed into a storm by afternoon.</p> +<p>Four miles from town, in a dreary stretch of country, a +dejected-looking object tramped along the railroad-track. His hat +was pulled over his eyes and his hands were thrust in his pockets. +Now and again he stopped, listened, and looked at his watch.</p> +<p>It was Sandy Kilday, and he was waiting for the freight-train +with the fixed intention of committing suicide.</p> +<p>The complications arising from Jimmy Reed's indiscretion had +resulted disastrously. When Sandy found that Ruth had +<!-- Page 233 --> +read his letter, his common sense took flight. Instead of a +supplicant, he became an invader, and stormed the citadel with such +hot-headed passion and fervor that Ruth fled in affright to the +innermost chamber of her maidenhood, and there, barred and +barricaded, withstood the siege.</p> +<p>His one desire in life now was to quit it. He felt as if he had +read his death-warrant, and it was useless ever again to open his +eyes on this gray, impossible world.</p> +<p>He did not know how far he had come. Everything about him was +strange and unfriendly: the woods had turned to gaunt and gloomy +skeletons that shivered and moaned in the wind; the sunny fields of +ragweed were covered with a pall; and the river—his dancing, +singing river—was a black and sullen stream that closed +remorselessly over the dying snowflakes. His woods, his fields, his +river,—they knew him not; he stared at them blankly and they +stared back at him.</p> +<p>A rabbit, frightened at his approach, jumped out of the bushes +and went bounding <!-- Page 234 --> +down the track ahead of him. The sight of the round little +cottontail leaping from tie to tie brought a momentary diversion; +but he did not want to be diverted.</p> +<p>With an effort he came back to his stern purpose. He forced +himself to face the facts and the future. What did it matter if he +was only twenty-one, with his life before him? What satisfaction +was it to have won first honors at the university? There was but +one thing in the world that made life worth living, and that was +denied him. Perhaps after he was gone she would love him.</p> +<p>This thought brought remarkable consolation. He pictured to +himself her remorse when she heard the tragic news. He attended in +spirit his own funeral, and even saw her tears fall upon his still +face. Meanwhile he listened impatiently for the train.</p> +<p>Instead of the distant rumble of the cars, he heard on the road +below the sound of a horse's hoofs, quickly followed by voices. +Slipping behind the embankment, he waited for the vehicle to pass. +The horse was evidently <!-- Page 235 --> +walking, and the voices came to him distinctly.</p> +<p>"I'm not a coward—any s-such thing! We oughtn't to have +c-come, in the first place. I can't go with you. Please turn round, +C-Carter,—please!"</p> +<p>There was no mistaking that high, childlike voice, with its +faltering speech.</p> +<p>Sandy's gloomy frown narrowed to a scowl. What business had +Annette out there in the storm? Where was she going with Carter +Nelson?</p> +<p>He quickened his steps to keep within sight of the slow-moving +buggy.</p> +<p>"There's nothing out this road but the Junction," he thought, +trying to collect his wits. "Could they be taking the train there? +He goes to California in the morning, but where's he taking Nettie +to-day? And she didn't want to be going, either; didn't I hear her +say it with her own lips?"</p> +<p>He moved cautiously forward, now running a few paces to keep up, +now crouching behind the bushes. Every sense was keenly +<!-- Page 236 --> +alert; his eyes never left the buggy for a moment.</p> +<p>When the freight thundered up the grade, he stepped mechanically +to one side, keeping a vigilant eye on the couple ahead, and +begrudging the time he lost while the train went by. It was not +until an hour later that he remembered he had forgotten to commit +suicide.</p> +<p>Stepping back on the ties, he hurried forward. He was convinced +now that they meant to take the down train which would pass the +Clayton train at the Junction in half an hour. Something must be +done to save Annette. The thought of her in the city, at the mercy +of the irresponsible Carter, sent him running down the track. He +waited until he was slightly in advance before he descended +abruptly upon them.</p> +<p>Annette was sitting very straight, talking excitedly, and Carter +was evidently trying to reassure her.</p> +<p>As Sandy plunged down the embankment, they started apart, and +Carter reached for <!-- Page 237 --> +the whip. Before he could urge the horse forward, Sandy had swung +himself lightly to the step of the buggy, and was leaning back +against the dash-board. He looked past Carter to Annette. She was +making a heroic effort to look unconcerned and indifferent, but her +eyelids were red, and her handkerchief was twisted into a damp +little string about her fingers. Sandy wasted no time in diplomacy; +he struck straight out from the shoulder.</p> +<p>"If it's doing something you don't want to, you don't have to, +Nettie. I'm here."</p> +<p>Carter stopped his horse.</p> +<p>"Will you get down?" he demanded angrily.</p> +<p>"After you," said Sandy.</p> +<p>Carter measured his man, then stepped to the ground. Sandy +promptly followed.</p> +<p>"And now," said Carter, "you'll perhaps be good enough to +explain what you mean."</p> +<p>Sandy still kept his hand on the buggy <!-- Page 238 --> +and his eyes on Annette; when he spoke it was to her.</p> +<p>"If it's your wish to go on, say the word."</p> +<p>The tearful young person in the buggy looked very limp and +miserable, but declined to make any remarks.</p> +<p>"Miss Fenton and I expect to be married this evening," said +Carter, striving for dignity, though his breath came short with +excitement. "We take the train in twenty minutes. Your interference +is not only impudent—it's useless. I know perfectly well who +sent you: it was Judge Hollis. He was the only man we met after we +left town. Just return to him, with my compliments, and tell him I +say he is a meddler and a fool!"</p> +<p>"Annette," said Sandy, softly, coming toward her, "the doctor'll +be wanting his coffee by now."</p> +<p>"Let me pass," cried Carter, "you common hound! Take your foot +off that step or I'll—" He made a quick motion toward +<!-- Page 239 --> +his hip, and Sandy caught his hand as it closed on a pearl-handled +revolver.</p> +<p>"None of that, man! I'll be going when I have her word. Is it +good-by, Annette? Must I be taking the word to your father that +you've left him now and for always? Yes? Then a shake of the hand +for old times' sake."</p> +<p>Annette slipped a cold little hand into his free one, and +feeling the solid grasp of his broad palm, she clung to it as a +drowning man clings to a spar.</p> +<p>"I can't go!" she cried, in a burst of tears. "I can't leave dad +this way! Make him take me b-back, Sandy! I want to go home!"</p> +<p>Carter stood very still and white. His thin body was trembling +from head to foot, and the veins stood out on his forehead like +whip-cord. He clenched his hands in an effort to control himself. +At Annette's words he stepped aside with elaborate courtesy.</p> +<p>"You are at perfect liberty to go with <!-- Page 240 --> +Mr. Kilday. All I ask is that he will meet me as soon as we get +back to town."</p> +<p>"I can't go b-back on the train!" cried Annette, with a glance +at her bags and boxes. "Every one would suspect something if I did. +Oh, why d-did I come?"</p> +<p>"My buggy is at your disposal," said Carter; "perhaps your +disinterested friend, Mr. Kilday, could be persuaded to drive you +back."</p> +<p>"But, Carter," cried Annette, in quick dismay, "you must come, +too. I'll bring dad r-round; I always do. Then we can be married at +home, and I can have a veil and a r-ring and presents."</p> +<p>She smiled at him coaxingly, but he folded his arms and +scowled.</p> +<p>"You go with me to the city, or you go back to Clayton with him. +You have just three minutes to make up your mind."</p> +<!-- Page 241 (Illustration) --> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 474px;"><a name="i241" id= +"i241"></a> <img src="images/241.gif" width="474" height="700" alt= +"Illustration: Sandy saw her waver" /></div> +<!-- Page 242 (blank facing page) --> +<p>Sandy saw her waver. The first minute she looked at him, the +second at Carter. He took no chances on the third. With a quick +<!-- Page 243 --> +bound, he was in the buggy and turning the horse homeward.</p> +<p>"But I've decided to go with Carter!" cried Annette, +hysterically. "Turn b-back, Sandy! I've changed my mind."</p> +<p>"Change it again," advised Sandy as he laid the whip gently +across the horse's back.</p> +<p>Carter Nelson flung furiously off to catch the train for town, +while the would-be bride shed bitter tears on the shoulder of the +would-be suicide.</p> +<p>The snow fell faster and faster, and the gray day deepened to +dusk. For a long time they drove along in silence, both busy with +their own thoughts.</p> +<p>Suddenly they were lurched violently forward as the horse shied +at something in the bushes. Sandy leaned forward in time to see a +figure on all fours plunging back into the shrubbery.</p> +<p>"Annette," he whispered excitedly, "did you see that man's +face?"</p> +<p>"Yes," she said, clinging to his arm; "don't leave me, +Sandy!"</p> +<!-- Page 244 --> +<p>"What did he look like? Tell me, quick!"</p> +<p>"He had little eyes like shoe-buttons, and his teeth stuck out. +Do you suppose he was hiding?"</p> +<p>"It was Ricks Wilson, or I am a blind man!" cried Sandy, +standing up in the buggy and straining his eyes in the +darkness.</p> +<p>"Why, he's in jail!"</p> +<p>"May I never trust me two eyes to speak the truth again if that +wasn't Ricks!"</p> +<p>When they started they found that the harness was broken, and +all efforts to fix it were in vain.</p> +<p>"It's half-past five now," cried Annette. "If I don't get home +b-before dad, he'll have out the fire department."</p> +<p>"There's a farm-house a good way back," said Sandy; "but it's +too far for you to walk. Will you be waiting here in the buggy +until I go for help?"</p> +<p>"Well, I guess not!" said Annette, indignantly.</p> +<p>Sandy looked at the round baby face beside <!-- Page 245 --> +him and laughed. "It's not one of meself that blames you," he said; +"but how are we ever to get home?"</p> +<p>Annette was not without resources.</p> +<p>"What's the matter with riding the horse b-back to the +farm?"</p> +<p>"And you?" asked Sandy.</p> +<p>"I'll ride behind."</p> +<p>They became hilarious over the mounting, for the horse bitterly +resented a double burden.</p> +<p>When he found he could not dispose of it he made a dash for +freedom, and raced over the frozen road at such a pace that they +were soon at their destination.</p> +<p>"He won the handicap," laughed Sandy as he lifted his disheveled +companion to the ground.</p> +<p>"It was glorious!" cried Annette, gathering up her flying locks. +"I lost every hair-pin but one."</p> +<p>At the farm-house they met with a warm reception.</p> +<p>"Jes step right in the kitchen," said the <!-- Page 246 --> +farmer. "Mommer'll take care of you while I go out to the stable +for some rope and another hoss."</p> +<p>The kitchen was a big, cheerful room, full of homely comfort. +Bright red window-curtains were drawn against the cold white world +outside, and the fire crackled merrily in the stove.</p> +<p>Sandy and Annette stood, holding out their hands to the friendly +warmth. She was watching with interest the preparations for supper, +but he had grown silent and preoccupied.</p> +<p>The various diversions of the afternoon had acted as a temporary +narcotic, through which he struggled again and again to wretched +consciousness. A surge of contempt swept over him that he could +have forgotten for a moment. He did not want to forget; he did not +want to think of anything else.</p> +<p>"They smell awfully g-good," whispered Annette.</p> +<p>"What?"</p> +<!-- Page 247 --> +<p>"The hoe-cakes. I didn't have any dinner."</p> +<p>"Neither did I."</p> +<p>Annette looked up quickly. "What were you d-doing out there on +the track, Sandy?"</p> +<p>The farmer's wife fortunately came to the rescue.</p> +<p>"Hitch up yer cheers, you two, and take a little snack afore you +go out in the cold ag'in."</p> +<p>Annette promptly accepted, but Sandy declared that he was not +hungry. He went to the window and, pulling back the curtain, stared +out into the night. Was all the rest of life going to be like this? +Was that restless, nervous, intolerable pain going to gnaw at his +heart forever?</p> +<p>Meanwhile the savory odor of the hoe-cakes floated over his +shoulder and bits of the conversation broke in upon him.</p> +<p>"Aw, take two or three and butter 'em while they are hot. Long +sweetening or short?"</p> +<p>"Both," said Annette. "I never tasted <!-- Page 248 --> +anything so g-good. Sandy, what's the matter with you? I never saw +you when you weren't hungry b-before. Look! Won't you try this +s-sizzly one?"</p> +<p>Sandy looked and was lost. He ate with a coming appetite.</p> +<p>The farmer's wife served them with delighted zeal; she made trip +after trip from the stove to the table, pausing frequently to +admire her guests.</p> +<p>"I've had six," said Annette; "do you suppose I'll have time for +another one?"</p> +<p>"Lemme give you <i>both</i> a clean plate and some pie," +suggested the eager housewife.</p> +<p>Sandy looked at her and smiled.</p> +<p>"I'll take the clean plate," he said, "and—and more +hoe-cakes."</p> +<p>When the farmer returned, and they rode back to the buggy, +Annette developed a sudden fever of impatience. She fidgeted about +while the men patched up the harness, and delayed their progress by +her fire of questions.</p> +<p>After they started, Sandy leaned back in <!-- Page 249 --> +the buggy, lost in the fog of his unhappiness. Off in the distance +he could see the twinkling lights of Clayton. One was apart from +the rest; that was Willowvale.</p> +<p>A sob aroused him. Annette, left to herself, had collapsed. He +patiently put forth a fatherly hand and patted her shoulder.</p> +<p>"There, there, Nettie! You'll be all right in the morning."</p> +<p>"I won't!" she declared petulantly. "You don't know anything +ab-b-bout being in love."</p> +<p>Sandy surveyed her with tolerant sadness. Little her childish +heart knew of the depths through which he was passing.</p> +<p>"Do you love him very much?" he asked.</p> +<p>She nodded violently. "Better than any b-boy I was ever engaged +to."</p> +<p>"He's not worth it."</p> +<p>"He is!"</p> +<p>A strained silence, then he said:</p> +<p>"Nettie, could you be forgiving me if I told you the Lord's +truth?"</p> +<p>"Don't you suppose dad's kept me <!-- Page 250 --> +p-posted about his faults? Why, he would walk a mile to find out +something b-bad about Carter Nelson."</p> +<p>"He wouldn't have to. Nelson's a bad lot, Nettie. It isn't all +his fault; it's the price he pays for his blue blood. Your father's +the wise man to try to keep you from being his wife."</p> +<p>"Everyb-body's down on him," she sobbed, "just because he has to +d-drink sometimes on account of his lungs. I didn't know you were +so mean."</p> +<p>"Will you pass the word not to see him again before he leaves in +the morning?"</p> +<p>"Indeed, I won't!"</p> +<p>Sandy stopped the horse. "Then I'll wait till you do."</p> +<p>She tried to take the lines, but he held her hands. Then she +declared she would walk. He helped her out of the buggy and watched +her start angrily forth. In a few minutes she came rushing +back.</p> +<p>"Sandy, you know I can't g-go by myself; I am afraid. Take me +home."</p> +<!-- Page 251 --> +<p>"And you promise?"</p> +<p>She looked appealingly at him, but found no mercy. "You are the +very m-meanest boy I ever knew. Get me home before d-dad finds out, +and I'll promise anything. But this is the last word I'll ever +s-speak to you as long as I live."</p> +<p>At half-past seven they drove into town. The streets were full +of people and great excitement prevailed.</p> +<p>"They've found out about me!" wailed Annette, breaking her long +silence. "Oh, Sandy, what m-must I do?"</p> +<p>Sandy looked anxiously about him. He knew that an elopement +would not cause the present commotion. "Jimmy!" He leaned out of +the buggy and called to a boy who was running past. "Jimmy Reed! +What's the matter?"</p> +<p>Jimmy, breathless and hatless, his whole figure one huge +question-mark, exploded like a bunch of fire-crackers.</p> +<p>"That you, Sandy? Ricks Wilson's broke jail and shot Judge +Hollis. It was at <!-- Page 252 --> +half-past five. Dr. Fenton's been out there ever since. They say +the judge can't live till midnight. We're getting up a crowd to go +after Wilson."</p> +<p>At the first words Sandy had sprung to his feet. "The judge +shot! Ricks Wilson! I'll kill him for that. Get out, Annette. I +must go to the judge. I'll be out to the farm in no time and back +in less. Don't you be letting them start without me, Jimmy."</p> +<p>Whipping the already jaded horse to a run, he dashed through the +crowded streets, over the bridge, and out the turnpike.</p> +<p>Ruth stood at one of the windows at Willowvale, peering +anxiously out into the darkness. Her figure showed distinctly +against the light of the room behind her, but Sandy did not see +her.</p> +<p>His soul was in a wild riot of grief and revenge. Two thoughts +tore at his brain: one was to see the judge before he died, and the +other was to capture Ricks Wilson.</p> +<p> </p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<!-- Page 253 --> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXI" id="CHAPTER_XXI"></a> <b>CHAPTER +XXI</b></h2> +<p>IN THE DARK</p> +<p>An ominous stillness hung over Hollis farm as Sandy ran up the +avenue. The night was dark, but the fallen snow gave a +half-mysterious light to the quiet scene.</p> +<p>He stepped on the porch with a sinking heart. In the dimly +lighted hall Mr. Moseley and Mr. Meech kept silent watch, their +faces grave with apprehension. Without stopping to speak to them, +Sandy hurried to the door of the judge's room. Before he could turn +the knob, Dr. Fenton opened it softly and, putting his finger on +his lips, came out, cautiously closing the door behind him.</p> +<p>"You can't go in," he whispered; "the <!-- Page 254 --> +slightest excitement might finish him. He's got one chance in a +hundred, boy; we've got to nurse it."</p> +<p>"Does he know?"</p> +<p>"Never has known a thing since the bullet hit him. He was coming +into the sitting-room when Wilson fired through the window."</p> +<p>"The black-hearted murderer!" cried Sandy. "I could swear I saw +him hiding in the bushes between here and the Junction."</p> +<p>The doctor threw a side glance at Mr. Meech, then said +significantly:</p> +<p>"Have they started?"</p> +<p>"Not yet. If there's nothing I can do for the judge, I'm going +with them."</p> +<p>"That's right. I'd go, too, if I were not needed here. Wait a +minute, Sandy." His face looked old and worn. "Have you happened to +see my Nettie since noon?"</p> +<p>"That I have, doctor. She was driving with me, and the harness +broke. She's home now."</p> +<!-- Page 255 --> +<p>"Thank God!" cried the doctor. "I thought it was Nelson."</p> +<p>Sandy passed through the dining-room and was starting up the +steps when he heard his name spoken.</p> +<p>"Mist' Sandy! 'Fore de Lawd, where you been at? Oh, we been +habin' de terriblest times! My pore old mas'r done been shot down +wifout bein' notified or nuthin'. Pray de Lawd he won't die! I +knowed somepin' was gwine happen. I had a division jes 'fore +daybreak; dey ain't no luck worser den to dream 'bout a tooth +fallin' out. Oh, Lordy! Lordy! I hope he ain't gwine die!"</p> +<p>"Hush, Aunt Melvy! Where's Mrs. Hollis?"</p> +<p>"She's out in de kitchen, heatin' water an' waitin' on de +doctor. She won't let me do nuthin'. Seems lak workin' sorter lets +off her feelin's. Pore Miss Sue!" She threw her apron over her head +and swayed and sobbed.</p> +<p>As Sandy tried to pass, she stopped him again, and after looking +furtively around <!-- Page 256 --> +she fumbled in her pocket for something which she thrust into his +hand.</p> +<p>"Hit's de pistol!" she whispered. "I's skeered to give it to +nobody else, 'ca'se I's skeered dey'd try me for a witness. He done +drap it 'longside de kitchen door. You won't let on I found it, +honey? You won't tell nobody?"</p> +<p>He reassured her, and hastened to his room. Lighting his lamp, +he hurriedly changed his coat for a heavier, and was starting in +hot haste for the door when his eyes fell upon the pistol, which he +had laid on the table.</p> +<p>It was a fine, pearl-handled revolver, thirty-eight caliber. He +looked at it closer, then stared blankly at the floor. He had seen +it before that afternoon.</p> +<p>"Why, Carter must have given Ricks the pistol," he thought. "But +Carter was out at the Junction. What time did it happen?"</p> +<p>He sat on the side of the bed and, pressing his hands to his +temples, tried to force the events to take their proper +sequence.</p> +<!-- Page 257 --> +<p>"I don't know when I left town," he thought, with a shudder; "it +must have been nearly four when I met Carter and Annette. He took +the train back. Yes, he would have had time to help Ricks. But I +saw Ricks out the turnpike. It was half-past five, I remember now. +The doctor said the judge was shot at a quarter of six."</p> +<p>A startled look of comprehension flashed over his face. He +sprang to his feet and tramped up and down the small room.</p> +<p>"I know I saw Ricks," he thought, his brain seething with +excitement. "Annette saw him, too; she described him. He couldn't +have even driven back in that time."</p> +<p>He stopped again and stood staring intently before him. Then he +took the lamp and slipped down the back stairs and out the side +door.</p> +<p>The snow was trampled about the window and for some space beyond +it. The tracks had been followed to the river, the eager searchers +keeping well away from the tell-tale footsteps in order not to +obliterate <!-- Page 258 --> +them. Sandy knelt in the snow and held his lamp close to the single +trail. The print was narrow and long and ended in a tapering toe. +Ricks's broad foot would have covered half the space again. He +jumped to his feet and started for the house, then turned back +irresolute.</p> +<p>When he entered his little room again the slender footprints had +been effaced. He put the lamp on the bureau, and looked vacantly +about him. On the cushion was pinned a note. He recognized Ruth's +writing, and opened it mechanically.</p> +<p>There were only three lines:</p> +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>I must see you again before I leave. Be sure to come +to-night.</p> +</div> +<p>The words scarcely carried a meaning to him. It was her brother +that had shot the judge—the brother whom she had defended and +protected all her life. It would kill her when she knew. And he, +Sandy Kilday, was the only one who suspected the truth. A momentary +temptation seized him to <!-- Page 259 --> +hold his peace; if Ricks were caught, it would be time enough to +tell what he knew; if he escaped, one more stain on his name might +not matter.</p> +<p>But Carter, the coward, where was he? It was his place to speak. +Would he let Ricks bear his guilt and suffer the blame? Such +burning rage against him rose in Sandy that he paced the room in +fury.</p> +<p>Then he re-read Ruth's note and again he hesitated. What a +heaven of promise it opened to him! Ruth was probably waiting for +him now. Everything might be different when he saw her again.</p> +<p>All his life he had followed the current; the easy way was his +way, and he came back to it again and again. His thoughts shifted +and formed and shifted again like the bits of color in a +kaleidoscope.</p> +<p>Presently his restless eyes fell on an old chromo hanging over +the mantel. It represented the death-bed of Washington. The dying +figure on the bed recalled that other figure down-stairs. In an +instant all the <!-- Page 260 --> +floating forms in his brain assumed one shape and held it.</p> +<p>The judge must be his first consideration. He had been shot down +without cause, and might pay his life for it. There was but one +thing to do: to find the real culprit, give him up, and take the +consequences.</p> +<p>Slipping the note in one pocket and the revolver in another, he +hurried down-stairs.</p> +<p>On the lowest step he found Mrs. Hollis sitting in the dark. Her +hands were locked around her knees, and hard, dry sobs shook her +body.</p> +<p>In an instant he was down beside her, his arms about her. "He +isn't dead?" he whispered fearfully.</p> +<p>Mrs. Hollis shook her head. "He hasn't moved an inch or spoken +since we put him on the bed. Are you going with the men?"</p> +<p>"I'm going to town now," said Sandy, evasively.</p> +<p>She rose and caught him by the arm. Her eyes were fierce with +vindictiveness.</p> +<p>"Don't let them stop till they've caught <!-- Page 261 --> +him, Sandy. I hope they will hang him to-night!"</p> +<p>A movement in the sick-room called her within, and Sandy hurried +out to the buggy, which was still standing at the gate.</p> +<p>He lighted the lantern and, throwing the robe across his knees, +started for town. The intense emotional strain under which he had +labored since noon, together with fatigue, was beginning to play +tricks with his nerves. Twice he pulled in his horse, thinking he +heard voices in the wood. The third time he stopped and got out. At +infrequent intervals a groan broke the stillness.</p> +<p>He climbed the snake-fence and beat about among the bushes. The +groan came again, and he followed the sound.</p> +<p>At the foot of a tall beech-tree a body was lying face downward. +He held his lantern above his head and bent over it. It was a man, +and, as he tried to turn him over, he saw a slight red stain on the +snow beneath his mouth. The figure, thus roused, stirred and tried +to sit up. As he did so, the light <!-- Page 262 --> +from Sandy's lantern fell full on the dazed and swollen face of +Carter Nelson. The two faced each other for a space, then Sandy +asked him sharply what he did there.</p> +<p>"I don't know," said Carter, weakly, sinking back against the +tree. "I'm sick. Get me some whisky."</p> +<p>"Wake up!" said Sandy, shaking him roughly. "This is +Kilday—Sandy Kilday."</p> +<p>Carter's eyes were still closed, but his lip curled +contemptuously. "<i>Mr.</i> Kilday," he said, and smiled +scornfully. "The least said about <i>Mr.</i> Kilday the +better."</p> +<p>Sandy laid a heavy hand on his shoulder.</p> +<p>"Nelson, listen! Do you remember going out to the Junction with +Annette Fenton?"</p> +<p>"That's nobody's business but mine. I'll shoot the—"</p> +<p>"Do you remember coming home on the train?"</p> +<p>Carter's stupid, heavy eyes were on Sandy now, and he was +evidently trying to understand what he was saying. "Home on the +train? Yes; I came home on train."</p> +<!-- Page 263 --> +<p>"And afterward?" demanded Sandy, kneeling before him and looking +intently in his eyes.</p> +<p>"Gus Heyser's saloon, and then—"</p> +<p>"And then?" repeated Sandy.</p> +<p>Carter shook his head and looked about him bewildered.</p> +<p>"Where am I now I What did you bring me here for?"</p> +<p>"Look me straight, Nelson," said Sandy. "Don't you move your +eyes. You left Gus Heyser's and came out the pike to the Hollis +farm, didn't you?"</p> +<p>"Hollis farm?" Carter repeated vaguely. "No; I didn't go +there."</p> +<p>"You went up to the window and waited. Don't you remember the +snow on the ground and the light inside the window?"</p> +<p>Carter seemed struggling to remember, but his usually sensitive +face was vacant and perplexed.</p> +<p>Sandy moved nearer. "You waited there by the window," he went on +with subdued excitement, for the hope was high in his +<!-- Page 264 --> +heart that Carter was innocent. "You waited ever so long, until a +pistol was fired—"</p> +<p>"Yes," broke in Carter, his lips apart; "a pistol-shot close to +my head! It woke me up. I ran before they could shoot me again. +Where was it—Gus Heyser's? What am I doing here?"</p> +<p>For answer Sandy pulled Carter's revolver from his pocket. "Did +you have that this afternoon?"</p> +<p>"Yes," said Carter, a troubled look coming into his eyes. "Where +did you get it, Kilday?"</p> +<p>"It was found outside Judge Hollis's window after he had been +shot."</p> +<p>"Judge Hollis shot! Who did it?"</p> +<p>Sandy again looked at the pistol.</p> +<p>"My God, man!" cried Carter; "you don't mean that I—" He +cowered back against the tree and shook from head to foot. +"Kilday!" he cried presently, seizing Sandy by the wrist with his +long, delicate hands, "does any one else know?"</p> +<p><!-- Page 265 --> +Sandy shook his head.</p> +<p>"Then I must get away; you must help me. I didn't know what I +was doing. I don't know now what I have done. Is he—"</p> +<p>"He's not dead yet."</p> +<p>Carter struggled to his feet, but a terrible attack of coughing +seized him, and he sank back exhausted. The handkerchief which he +held to his mouth was red with blood.</p> +<p>Sandy stretched him out on the snow, where he lay for a while +with closed eyes. He was very white, and his lips twitched +convulsively.</p> +<p>A vehicle passed out the road, and Sandy started up. He must +take some decisive step at once. The men were probably waiting in +the square for him now. He must stop them at any cost.</p> +<p>Carter opened his eyes, and the terror returned to them.</p> +<p>"Don't give me up, Kilday!" he cried, trying to rise. "I'll pay +you anything you ask. It was the drink. I didn't know what I was +doing. For the Lord's sake, don't <!-- Page 266 --> +give me up! I haven't long to live at best. I can't disgrace the +family. I—I am the last of the line—last Nelson—" +His voice was high and uncontrolled, and his eyes were glassy and +fixed.</p> +<p>Sandy stood before him in an agony of indecision. He had fought +it out with himself there in his bedroom, and all personal +considerations were swept from his mind. All he wanted now was to +do right. But what was right? He groped blindly about in the +darkness of his soul, and no guiding light showed him the way.</p> +<p>With a groan, he knotted his fingers together and prayed the +first real prayer his heart had ever uttered. It was wordless and +formless, just an inarticulate cry for help in the hour of +need.</p> +<p>The answer came when he looked again at Carter. Something in the +frenzied face brought a sudden recollection to his mind.</p> +<p>"We can't judge him by usual standards; he's bearing the sins of +his fathers. We have to look on men like that as we do on +<!-- Page 267 --> +the insane." They were the judge's own words.</p> +<p>Sandy jumped to his feet, and, helping and half supporting +Carter, persuaded him to go out to the buggy, promising that he +would not give him up.</p> +<p>At the Willowvale gate he led the horse into the avenue, then +turned and ran at full speed into town. As he came into the square +he found only a few groups shivering about the court-house steps, +discussing the events of the day.</p> +<p>"Where's the crowd?" he cried breathless. "Aren't they going to +start from here?"</p> +<p>An old negro pulled off his cap and grinned.</p> +<p>"Dey been gone purty near an hour, Mist' Sandy. I 'spec' dey's +got dat low-down rascal hanged by now."</p> +<p> </p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<!-- Page 268 --> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXII" id="CHAPTER_XXII"></a>CHAPTER XXII</h2> +<p>AT WILLOWVALE</p> +<p>There was an early tea at Willowvale that evening, and Ruth sat +at the big round table alone. Mrs. Nelson always went to bed when +the time came for packing, and Carter was late, as usual.</p> +<p>Ruth was glad to be alone. She had passed through too much to be +able to banish all trace of the storm. But though her eyes were red +from recent tears, they were bright with anticipation. Sandy was +coming back. That fact seemed to make everything right.</p> +<p>She leaned her chin on her palm and tried to still the beating +of her heart. She knew he would come. Irresponsible, hot-headed, +<!-- Page 269 --> +impulsive as he was, he had never failed her. She glanced +impatiently at the clock.</p> +<p>"Miss Rufe, was you ever in love?" It was black Rachel who broke +in upon her thoughts. She was standing at the foot of the table, +her round, good-humored face comically serious.</p> +<p>"No-yes. Why, Rachel?" stammered Ruth.</p> +<p>"I was just axin'," said Rachel, "'cause if you been in love, +you'd know how to read a love-letter, wouldn't you, Miss Rufe?"</p> +<p>Ruth smiled and nodded.</p> +<p>"I got one from my beau," went on Rachel, in great +embarrassment; "but dat nigger knows I can't read."</p> +<p>"Where does he live?" asked Ruth.</p> +<p>"Up in Injianapolis. He drives de hearse."</p> +<p>Ruth suppressed a smile. "I'll read the love-letter for you," +she said.</p> +<p>Rachel sat down on the floor and began taking down her hair. It +was divided into many tight braids, each of which was +<!-- Page 270 --> +wrapped with a bit of shoe-string. From under the last one she took +a small envelope and handed it to Ruth.</p> +<p>"Dat's it," she said. "I was so skeered I'd lose it I didn't +trust it no place 'cept in my head."</p> +<p>Ruth unfolded the note and read:</p> +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>"DEAR RACHEL: I mean biznis if you mean biznis send me fore +dollars to git a devorce.</p> +<p>"<i>George</i>."</p> +</div> +<p>Rachel sat on the floor, with her hair standing out wildly and +anxiety deepening on her face.</p> +<p>"I ain't got but three dollars," she said.</p> +<p>"I was gwine to buy my weddin' dress wif dat."</p> +<p>"But, Rachel," protested Ruth, in laughing remonstrance, "he has +one wife."</p> +<p>"Yes,'m. Pete Lawson ain't got no wife; but he ain't got but one +arm, neither. Whicht one would you take, Miss Rufe?"</p> +<p>"Pete," declared Ruth. "He's a good boy, what there is of +him."</p> +<!-- Page 271--> +<p>"Well, I guess I better notify him to-night," sighed Rachel; but +she held the love-letter on her knee and regretfully smoothed its +crumpled edges.</p> +<p>Ruth pushed back her chair from the table and crossed the wide +hall to the library.</p> +<p>It was a large room, with heavy wainscoting, above which +simpered or frowned a long row of her ancestors.</p> +<p>She stepped before the one nearest her and looked at it long and +earnestly. The face carried no memory with it, though it was her +father. It was the portrait of a handsome man in uniform, in the +full bloom of a dissipated youth. Her mother had seldom spoken of +him, and when she did her eyes filled with tears.</p> +<p>A few feet farther away hung a portrait of her grandfather, +brave in a high stock and ruffled shirt, the whole light of a +bibulous past radiating from the crimson tip of his incriminating +nose.</p> +<p>Next him hung Aunt Elizabeth, supercilious, arrogant, haughty. +Ruth recalled a <!-- Page 272 --> +tragic day of her past when she was sent to bed for climbing upon +the piano and pasting a stamp on the red-painted lips.</p> +<p>She glanced down the long line: velvets, satins, jewels, and +uniforms, and, above them all, the same narrow face, high-arched +nose, brilliant dark eyes, and small, weak mouth.</p> +<p>On the table was a photograph of Carter. Ruth sighed as she +passed it. It was a composite of all the grace, beauty, and +weakness of the surrounding portraits.</p> +<p>She went to the fire and, sitting down on an ottoman, took two +pictures from the folds of her dress. One was a miniature in a +small old-fashioned locket. It was a grave, sweet, motherly face, +singularly pure and childlike in its innocence. Ruth touched it +with reverent fingers.</p> +<p>"They say I am like her," she whispered to herself.</p> +<p>Then she turned to the other picture in her lap. It was a cheap +photograph with an ornate border. Posed stiffly in a photographer's +<!-- Page 273 --> +chair, against a background which represented a frightful storm at +sea, sat Sandy Kilday. His feet were sadly out of focus, and his +head was held at an impossible angle by the iron rest which stood +like a half-concealed skeleton behind him. He wore cheap +store-clothes, and a turn-down collar which rested upon a +ready-made tie of enormous proportions. It was a picture he had had +taken in his first new clothes soon after coming to Clayton. Ruth +had found it in an old book of Annette's.</p> +<p>How crude and ludicrous the awkward boy looked beside the +elegant figures on the walls about her! She leaned nearer the fire +to get the light on the face, then she smiled with a sudden rush of +tenderness.</p> +<p>The photographer had done his worst for the figure, but even an +unskilled hand and a poor camera had not wholly obliterated the +fineness of the face. Spirit, honor, and strength were all there. +The eyes that met hers were as fine and fearless as her own, and +the honest smile that hovered on his lips <!-- Page 274 --> +seemed to be in frank amusement at his own sorry self.</p> +<p>Ruth turned to see that the door was closed, then she put the +picture to her cheek, which was crimson in the firelight, and with +hesitating shyness gradually drew it to her lips and held it +there.</p> +<p>A noise of wheels in the avenue brought her to her feet with a +little start of joy. He had come, and she was possessed of a sudden +desire to run away. But she waited, with glad little tremors +thrilling her and her heart beating high. She was sure she heard +wheels. She went to the window, and, shading her eyes, looked out. +A buggy was standing at the gate, but no one got out.</p> +<p>A sudden apprehension seized her, and she hurried into the hail +and opened the front door.</p> +<p>"Carter," she called softly out into the night—"Carter, is +it you?"</p> +<p>There was no answer, and she came back into the hall and closed +the door. On each side of the door was a panel of leaded glass, +<!-- Page 275 --> +and she pressed her face to one of the little square panes, and +peered anxiously out. The light from the newel-post behind her +emphasized the darkness, so that she could distinguish only the dim +outline of the buggy.</p> +<p>Twice she touched the knob before she turned it again; then she +resolutely gathered her long white dress in her hand, and passed +down the broad stone steps. The wind blew sharply against her, and +the pavement was cold to her slippered feet.</p> +<p>"Carter," she called again and again—"Carter, is it +you?"</p> +<p>At the gate her scant supply of courage failed. Some one was in +the buggy, half lying, half sitting, with his face turned from her. +She looked back to the light in the cabin, where the servants would +hear if she called. Then the thought of any one else seeing Carter +as she had seen him before drove the fear back, and she resolutely +opened the gate and went forward.</p> +<p>At her first touch Carter started up <!-- Page 276 --> +wildly and pushed her from him. "You said you wouldn't give me up; +you promised," he said.</p> +<p>"I know it, Carter. I'll help you, dear. Don't be so afraid! +Nobody shall see you. Put your arm on my shoulder—there! Step +down a little farther!"</p> +<p>With all her slight strength she supported and helped him, the +keen wind blowing her long, thin dress about them both, and the +lace falling back from her arms, leaving them bare to the +elbow.</p> +<p>Half-way up the walk he broke away from her and cried out: "I'll +have to go away. It's dangerous for me to stay here an hour."</p> +<p>"Yes, Carter dear, I know. The doctor says it's the climate. We +are going early in the morning. Everything's packed. See how cold I +am getting out here! You'll come in with me now, won't you?"</p> +<p>Coaxing and helping him, she at last succeeded in getting him to +bed. The blood on his handkerchief told its own story.</p> +<p><!-- Page 277 --> +She straightened the room, drew a screen between him and the fire, +and then went to the bed, where he had already fallen into a deep +sleep. Sinking on her knees beside him, she broke into heavy, +silent sobs. The one grief of her girlhood had been the waywardness +of her only brother. From childhood she had stood between him and +blame, shielding him, helping him, loving him. She had fought +valiantly against his weakness, but her meager strength had been +pitted against the accumulated intemperance of generations.</p> +<p>She chafed his thin wrists, which her fingers could span; she +tenderly smoothed his face as it lay gray against the pillows; then +she caught up his hand and held it to her breast with a quick, +motherly gesture.</p> +<p>"Take him soon, God!" she prayed. "He is too weak to try any +more."</p> +<p>At midnight she slipped away to her own room and took off the +dainty gown she had put on for Sandy's coming.</p> +<p>For long hours she lay in her great canopied <!-- Page 278 --> +bed with wide-open eyes. The night was a noisy one, for there was a +continual passing on the road, and occasional shouts came faintly +to her.</p> +<p>With heavy heart she lay listening for some sound from Carter's +room. She was glad he was home. It was worse to sit up in bed and +listen for the wheels to turn in at the gate, to start at every +sound on the road, and to wait and wait through the long night. She +could scarcely remember the time when she had not waited for Carter +at night.</p> +<p>Once, long ago, she had confided her secret to one of her +uncles, and he had laughed and told her that boys would be boys. +After that she had kept things to herself.</p> +<p>There was but one other person in the world to whom she had +spoken, and that was Sandy Kilday. As she looked back it seemed to +her there was nothing she had withheld from Sandy Kilday. Nothing? +Sandy's face, as she had last seen it, despairing, reckless, +hopeless, rose before her. <!-- Page 279 --> +But she had asked him to come back, she was ready to surrender, she +could make him understand if she could only see him.</p> +<p>Why had he not come? The question multiplied itself into +numerous forms and hedged her in. Was he too angry to forgive her? +Had her seeming indifference at last killed his love? Why had he +not sent her a note or a message? He knew that she was to leave on +the early train, that there would be no chance to speak with her +alone in the morning.</p> +<p>A faint streak of misty light shone through the window. She +watched it deepen to rose.</p> +<p>By and by Rachel came in to make the fire. She tiptoed to the +bed and peeped through the curtains.</p> +<p>"You 'wake, Miss Rufe? Dey's been terrible goings on in town +last night! Didn't you hear de posse goin' by?"</p> +<p>"What was it? What's the matter?" cried Ruth, sitting up in +bed.</p> +<p>"Dat jail-bird Wilson done shot Jedge <!-- Page 280 --> +Hollis. 'Mos' ebery man in town went out to ketch him. Dey been +gone all night."</p> +<p>"Sandy went with them," thought Ruth, in sudden relief; then she +thought of the judge.</p> +<p>"Oh, Rachel, is he dangerously hurt? Will he die?"</p> +<p>"De las' accounts was mighty bad. Dey say de big doctors is +a-comin' up from de city to prode fer de bullet."</p> +<p>"What made him shoot him? How could he be so cruel, when the +dear old judge is so good and kind to everybody?"</p> +<p>"Jes pore white trash, dat Wilson," said Rachel, contemptuously, +as she coaxed the kindling into a blaze.</p> +<p>Ruth got up and dressed. Beneath the deep concern which she felt +was the flutter of returning hope. Sandy's first duty was to his +benefactor. She knew how he loved the old judge and with what +prompt action he would avenge his wrong. She could trust him to +follow honor every time.</p> +<p>"Some ob 'em 's comin' back now!" <!-- Page 281 --> +cried Rachel from the window. "I's gwine down to de road an' ax 'em +if dey ketched him."</p> +<p>"Rachel, wait! I'm coming, too. Give me my +traveling-coat—there on the trunk. What can I put on my head? +My hat is in auntie's room."</p> +<p>Rachel, rummaging in the closet, brought forth an old white +tam-o'-shanter. "That will do!" cried Ruth. "Now, don't make any +noise, but come."</p> +<p>They tiptoed through the house and out into the early morning. +It was still half dark, and the big-eyed poplars watched them +suspiciously as they hurried down to the road. Every branch and +twig was covered with ice, and the snow crackled under their +feet.</p> +<p>"I 'spec' it's gwine be summer-time where you gwine at, Miss +Rufe," said Rachel.</p> +<p>"I don't care," cried Ruth. "I don't want to be anywhere in the +world except right here."</p> +<!-- Page 282 --> +<p>"Dey're comin'," announced Rachel. "I hear de hosses."</p> +<p>Ruth leaned across the top bar of the gate, her figure enveloped +in her long coat, and her white tam a bright spot in the +half-light.</p> +<p>On came the riders, three abreast.</p> +<p>"Dat's him in de middle," whispered Rachel, excitedly; "next to +de sheriff. I's s'prised dey didn't swing him up—I shorely +is. He's hangin' down his head lak he's mighty 'shamed."</p> +<p>Ruth bent forward to get a glimpse of the prisoner's face, and +as she did so he lifted his head.</p> +<p>It was Sandy Kilday, his clothes disheveled, his brows lowered, +and his lips compressed info a straight, determined line.</p> +<p>Ruth's startled gaze swept over the riders, then came back to +him. She did not know what was the matter; she only knew that he +was in trouble, and that she was siding with him against the rest. +In the one moment their eyes met she sent him her full assurance of +compassion and sympathy. It was <!-- Page 283 --> +the same message a little girl had sent years ago over a ship's +railing to a wretched stowaway on the deck below.</p> +<p>The men rode on, and she stood holding to the gate and looking +after them.</p> +<p>"Here comes Mr. Sid Gray," said Rachel. The approaching rider +drew rein when he saw Ruth and dismounted.</p> +<p>"Tell me what's happened!" she cried.</p> +<p>He hitched his horse and opened the gate. He, too, showed signs +of a hard night.</p> +<p>"May I come in a moment to the fire?" he asked.</p> +<p>She led the way to the dining-room and ordered coffee.</p> +<p>"Now tell me," she demanded breathlessly.</p> +<p>"It's a mixed-up business," said Gray, holding his numb hands to +the blaze. "We left here early in the night and worked on a wrong +trail till midnight. Then a train-man out at the Junction gave us a +clue, and we got a couple of bloodhounds and traced Wilson as far +as Ellersberg."</p> +<!-- Page 284 --> +<p>"Go on!" said Ruth, shuddering.</p> +<p>"You see, a rumor got out that the judge had died. We didn't say +anything before the sheriff, but it was understood that Ricks +wouldn't be brought back to town alive. We located him in an old +barn. We surrounded it, and were just about to fire it when Kilday +came tearing up on horseback."</p> +<p>"Yes?" cried Ruth.</p> +<p>"Well," he went on, "he hadn't started with us, and he had been +riding like mad all night to overtake the crowd. His horse dropped +under him before he could dismount. Kilday jumped out in the crowd +and began to talk like a crazy man. He said we mustn't harm Ricks +Wilson; that Ricks hadn't shot the judge, for he was sure he had +seen him out the Junction road about half-past five. We all saw it +was a put-up job; he was Ricks Wilson's old pal, you know."</p> +<p>"But Sandy Kilday wouldn't lie!" cried Ruth.</p> +<!-- Page 285 --> +<p>"Well, that's what he did, and worse. When we tried to close in +on Wilson, Kilday fought like a tiger. You never saw anything like +the mix-up, and in the general skirmish Wilson escaped."</p> +<p>"And—and Sandy?" Ruth was leaning forward, with her hands +clasped and her lips apart.</p> +<p>"Well, he showed what he was, all right. He took sides with that +good-for-nothing scoundrel who had shot a man that was almost his +father. Why, I never saw such a case of ingratitude in my +life!"</p> +<p>"Where are they taking him?" she almost whispered.</p> +<p>"To jail for resisting an officer."</p> +<p>"Miss Rufe, de man's come fer de trunks. Is dey ready?" asked +Rachel from the hall.</p> +<p>Ruth rose and put her hand on the back of the chair to steady +herself.</p> +<p>"Yes; yes, they are ready," she said with an effort. "And, +Rachel, tell the man to go as quietly as possible. Mr. Carter must +not be disturbed until it is time to start."</p> +<p> </p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<!-- Page 286 --> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIII" id="CHAPTER_XXIII"></a>CHAPTER +XXIII</h2> +<p>"THE SHADOW ON THE HEART"</p> +<p>Just off Main street, under the left wing of the court-house, +lay the little county jail. It frowned down from behind its fierce +mask of bars and spikes, and boldly tried to make the town forget +the number of prisoners that had escaped its walls.</p> +<p>In a small front cell, beside a narrow grated window, Ricks +Wilson had sat and successfully planned his way to freedom.</p> +<p>The prisoner who now occupied the cell spent no time on thoughts +of escape. He paced restlessly up and down the narrow chamber, or +lay on the cot, with his hands under his head, and stared at the +grimy ceiling. The one question which he continually +<!-- Page 287 --> +put to the jailer was concerning the latest news of Judge +Hollis.</p> +<p>Sandy had been given an examining trial on the charge of +resisting an officer and assisting a prisoner to escape. Refusing +to tell what he knew, and no bail being offered, he was held to +answer to the grand jury. For two weeks he had seen the light of +day only through the deep, narrow opening of one small window.</p> +<p>At first he had had visitors—indignant, excited visitors +who came in hotly to remonstrate, to threaten, to abuse. Dr. Fenton +had charged in upon him with a whole battery of reproaches. In +stentorian tones he rehearsed the judge's kindness in befriending +him, he pointed out his generosity, and laid stress on Sandy's +heinous ingratitude. Mr. Moseley had arrived with arguments and +reasons and platitudes, all expressed in a polysyllabic monotone. +Mr. Meech had come many times with prayers and petitions and gentle +rebuke.</p> +<p>To them all Sandy gave patient, silent <!-- Page 288 --> +audience, wincing under the blame, but making no effort to defend +himself. All he would say was that Ricks Wilson had not done the +shooting, and that he could say no more.</p> +<p>A wave of indignation swept the town. Almost the only friend who +was not turned foe was Aunt Melvy. Her large philosophy of life +held that all human beings were "chillun," and "chillun was bound +to act bad sometimes." She left others to struggle with Sandy's +moral welfare and devoted herself to his physical comfort.</p> +<p>With a clear conscience she carried to her home flour, sugar, +and lard from the Hollises' store-room, and sat up nights in her +little cabin at "Who'd 'a' Thought It" to bake dumplings, rolls, +and pies for her "po' white chile."</p> +<p>Sandy felt some misgivings about the delicacies which she +brought, and one day asked her where she made them.</p> +<p>"I makes 'em out home," she declared stoutly. "I wouldn't cook +nuffin' fer you <!-- Page 289 --> +on Miss Sue's stove while she's talkin' 'bout you lak she is. She +'lows she don't never want to set eyes on you ag'in as long as she +lives."</p> +<p>"Has the judge asked for me?" said Sandy.</p> +<p>"Yas, sir; but de doctor he up and lied. He tol' him you'd went +back to de umerversity. De doctor 'lowed ef he tole him de trufe it +might throw him into a political stroke."</p> +<p>Sandy leaned his head on his hand. "You're the only one that's +stood by me, Aunt Melvy; the rest of them think me a bad lot."</p> +<p>"Dat's right," assented Aunt Melvy, cheerfully. "You jes orter +hear de way dey slanders you! I don't 'spec' you got a friend in +town 'ceptin' me." Then, as if reminded of something, she produced +a card covered with black dots. "Honey, I's gittin' up a little +collection fer de church. You gib me a nickel and I punch a pin +th'u' one ob dem dots to sorter certify it."</p> +<!-- Page 290 --> +<p>"Have you got religion yet?" he asked as he handed her some +small change.</p> +<p>Her expression changed, and her eyes fell. "Not yit," she +acknowledged reluctantly; "but I's countin' on comin' th'u' before +long. I's done j'ined de Juba Choir and de White Doves."</p> +<p>"The White Doves?" repeated Sandy.</p> +<p>"Yas, sir; de White Doves ob Perfection. We wears purple +calicoes and sets up wid de sick."</p> +<p>"Have you seen Miss Annette?"</p> +<p>"Lor', honey! ain't I tol' you 'bout dat? De very night de jedge +was shot, dat chile wrote her paw de sassiest letter, sayin' she +gwine run off and git married wif dat sick boy, Carter Nelson. De +doctor headed 'em off some ways, and de very nex' day what you +think he done? He put dat gal in a Cafolic nunnery convent! Dey say +she cut up scan'lous at fust, den she sorter quiet down, an' 'gin +to count her necklace, an' make signs on de waist ob her dress, an' +say she lak it so much she gwine be a Cafolic <!-- Page 291 --> +nunnery sister herself. Now de doctor's jes tearin' his shirt to +git her out, he's so skeered she'll do what she says."</p> +<p>Sandy laughed in spite of himself, and Aunt Melvy wagged her +head knowingly.</p> +<p>"He needn't pester hisseif 'bout dat. Now Mr. Carter's 'bout to +die, an' you's shut up in jail, she's done turnin' her 'tention on +Mr. Sid Gray. Dey ain't no blinds in de world big enough to keep +dat gal from shinin' her eyes at de boys!"</p> +<p>"Is Carter about to die?" Sandy had become suddenly grave.</p> +<p>"Yas, sir; so dey say. He's got somepin' that sounds lak +tuberoses. Him and Mrs. Nelson and Miss Rufe never did git to +Californy. Dey stopped off in Mobile or Injiany, I can't ricollec' +which. He took de fever de day dey lef', an' he ain't knowed +nothin' since."</p> +<p>After Aunt Melvy left, Sandy went to the window and leaned +against the bars. Below him flowed the life of the little town, the +men going home from work, the girls chattering <!-- Page 292 --> +and laughing through the dusk on their way from the post-office. +Every figure that passed, black or white, was familiar to him. +Jimmy Reed's little Skye terrier dashed down the street, and a +whistle sprang to his lips.</p> +<p>How he loved every living creature in the place! For five years +he had been one of them, sharing their interests, part and parcel +of the life of the community. Now he was an outcast, an alien, as +much a stranger to friendly faces as the lad who had knelt long ago +at the window of a great tenement and had been afraid to be +alone.</p> +<p>"I'll have to go away," he thought wistfully. "They'll not be +wanting me here after this."</p> +<p>It grew darker and darker in the gloomy room. The mournful voice +of a negro singing in the next cell came to him faintly:</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"><span>"We'll hunt no moah fo' de possum and de +coon,<br /></span> <span class="i2">On de medder, de hill, an' de +shoah.<br /></span> <span>We'll sing no moah by de glimmer ob de +moon,<br /></span> <span class="i2">On de bench by de old cabin +doah.<br /></span></div> +<div class="stanza"><!-- Page 293 --> +<span>"De days go by like de shadow on do heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wid sorrer, wha' all wuz so bright;<br /></span> +<span>De time am come when do darkies hab to +part—<br /></span> <span class="i2">Den, my ole Kaintucky +home, good night."<br /></span></div> +</div> +<p>Sandy's arm was against the grating and his head was bowed upon +it. Through all the hours of trial one image had sustained him. It +was of Ruth, as he had seen her last, leaning toward him out of the +half-light, her brown hair blowing from under her white cap and her +great eyes full of wondering compassion.</p> +<p>But to-night the darkness obscured even that image. The judge's +life still hung in the balance, and the man who had shot him lay in +a distant city, unconscious, waiting for death. Sandy felt that by +his sacrifice he had put the final barrier between himself and +Ruth.</p> +<p>With a childish gesture of despair, he flung out his arms and +burst into a passion of tears. The intense emotional impulse of his +race swept him along like a <!-- Page 294 --> +feather in a gale. His grief, like his joy, was elemental.</p> +<p>When the lull came at last, he pressed his hot head against the +cold iron grating, and his thoughts returned again and again to +Ruth. He thought of her tender ministries in the sick room, of her +intense love and loyalty for her brother. His whole soul rose up to +bless her, and the thought of what she had been spared brought him +peace.</p> +<p>Through days of struggle and nights of pain he fought back all +thoughts of the future and of self.</p> +<p>These times were ever afterward a twilight-place in his soul, +hallowed and sanctified by the great revelation they brought him, +blending the blackness of despair with the white light of perfect +love. Here his thoughts would often turn even in the stress and +strain of the daily life, as a devotee stops on his busy round and +steps within the dim cathedral to gain strength and inspiration on +his way.</p> +<p><!-- Page 295 --> +The next time Aunt Melvy came he asked for some of his law-books, +and from that on there was no more idling or dreaming.</p> +<p>Among the volumes she brought was the old note-book in which the +judge had made him jot down suggestions during those long evening +readings in the past. It was full of homely advice, the result of +forty years' experience, and Sandy found comfort in following it to +the letter.</p> +<p>For the first time in his life he learned the power of +concentration. Seven hours' study a day, without diversion or +interruption, brought splendid results. He knew the outline of the +course at the university, and he forged ahead with feverish +energy.</p> +<p>Meanwhile the judge's condition was slowly improving.</p> +<p>One afternoon Sandy sat at his table, deep in his work. He heard +the key turn in its lock and the door open, but he did not look up. +Suddenly he was aware of the soft rustle of skirts, and, lifting +his eyes, he saw <!-- Page 296 --> +Ruth. For a moment he did not move, thinking she must be but the +substance of his dream. Then her black dress caught his attention, +and he started to his feet.</p> +<p>"Carter?" he cried—"is he—"</p> +<p>Ruth nodded; her face was white and drawn, and purple shadows +lay about her eyes.</p> +<p>"He's dead," she whispered, with a catch in her voice; then she +went on in breathless explanation: "but he told me first. He said, +'Hurry back, Ruth, and make it right. They can come for me as soon +as I can travel. Tell Kilday I wasn't worth it.' Oh, Sandy! I don't +know whether it was right or wrong,—what you did,—but +it was merciful: if you could have seen him that last week, crying +all the time like a little child, afraid of the shadows on the +wall, afraid to be alone, afraid to live, afraid to die—"</p> +<p>Her voice broke, and she covered her face with her hands.</p> +<p>Sandy started forward, then he paused <!-- Page 299 --> +and gripped the chair-back until his fingers were white.</p> +<p>"Ruth," he said impatiently, "you'd best be going quick. It'll +break the heart of me to see you standing there suffering, unless I +can take you in me arms and comfort you. I've sworn never to speak +the word; but, by the saints—"</p> +<p>"You may!" sobbed Ruth, and with a quick, timid little gesture +she laid her hands in his.</p> +<p>For a moment he held her away from him. "It's not pity," he +cried, searching her face, "nor gratitude!"</p> +<p>She lifted her eyes, as honest and clear as her soul.</p> +<p>"It's been love, Sandy," she whispered, "ever since the +first."</p> +<!-- Page 297 (Illustration) --> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 457px;"><a name="i297" id= +"i297"></a> <img src="images/297.gif" width="457" height="700" alt= +"Illustration: 'It's been love, Sandy, ... ever since the first'" /> +</div> +<!-- Page 298 (Blank facing page) --> +<p>Two hours later, when the permit came, Sandy walked out of the +jail into the court-house square. A crowd had collected, for Ruth +had told her story and the news had spread; public favor was +rapidly turning in his direction.</p> +<p><!-- Page 300 --> +He looked about vaguely, as a man who has gazed too long at the sun +and is blinded to everything else.</p> +<p>"I've got my buggy," cried Jimmy Reed, touching him on the arm. +"Where do you want to go?"</p> +<p>Sandy hesitated, and a dozen invitations were shouted in one +breath. He stood irresolute, with his foot on the step of the +buggy; then he pulled himself up.</p> +<p>"To Judge Hollis," he said.</p> +<p> </p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<!-- Page 301 --> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIV" id="CHAPTER_XXIV"></a>CHAPTER XXIV</h2> +<p>THE PRIMROSE WAY</p> +<p>Spring and winter, and spring again, and flying rumors fluttered +tantalizing wings over Clayton. Just when it was definitely +announced that Willowvale was to be sold, Ruth Nelson returned, +after a year's absence, and opened the old home.</p> +<p>Mrs. Nelson did not come with her. That excellent lady had +concluded to bestow her talents upon a worthier object. In her +place came Miss Merritt, a quiet little sister of Ruth's mother, +who proved to be to the curious public a pump without a handle.</p> +<p>About this time Sandy Kilday returned from his last term at the +university, and gossip was busy over the burden of honors +<!-- Page 302 --> +under which he staggered, and the brilliance of the position he had +accepted in the city. In prompt contradiction of this came the +shining new sign, "Hollis & Kilday," which appeared over the +judge's dingy little office.</p> +<p>Nobody but Ruth knew what that sign had cost Sandy. He had come +home, fresh from his triumphs, and burning with ambition to make +his way in the world,—to make a name for her to share, and a +record for her to be proud of. The opportunity that had been +offered him was one in a lifetime. It had taken all his courage and +strength and loyalty to refuse it, but Ruth had helped him.</p> +<p>"We must think of the judge first, Sandy," she said. "While he +lives we must stay here; there'll be time enough for the big world +after a while."</p> +<p>So Sandy gave up his dream for the present and tacked the new +sign over the office door with his own hand.</p> +<p>The old judge watched him from the pavement. "That's right," he +said, rubbing his hands together with childish satisfaction; " +<!-- Page 303 --> +that's just about the best-looking sign I ever saw!"</p> +<p>"If you ever turn me down in court I'll stand it on its head and +make my own name come first," threatened Sandy; and the judge +repeated the joke to every one he saw that day.</p> +<p>It was not long until the flying rumors settled down into +positive facts, and Clayton was thrilled to its willow-fringed +circumference. There was to be a wedding! Not a Nelson wedding of +the olden times, when a special car brought grand folk down from +the city, and the townspeople stayed apart and eyed their fine +clothes and gay behavior with ill-concealed disfavor. This was to +be a Clayton wedding for high and low, rich and poor.</p> +<p>There was probably not a shutter opened in the town, on the +morning of the great day, that some one did not smile with pleasure +to find that the sun was shining.</p> +<p>Mrs. Hollis woke Sandy with the dawn, and insisted upon helping +him pack his <!-- Page 304 --> +trunk before breakfast. For a week she had been absorbed in his +nuptial outfit, jealously guarding his new clothes, to keep him +from wearing them all before the wedding.</p> +<p>Aunt Melvy was half an hour late in arriving, for she had +tarried at "Who'd 'a' Thought It" to perform the last mystic rites +over a rabbit's foot which was to be her gift to the groom.</p> +<p>The whole town was early astir and wore a holiday air. By noon +business was virtually abandoned, for Clayton was getting ready to +go to the wedding.</p> +<p>Willowvale extended a welcome to the world. The wide front gates +stood open, the big-eyed poplars beamed above the oleanders and the +myrtle, while the thrushes and the redwings twittered and caroled +their greetings from on high. The big white house was open to the +sunshine and the spring; flowers filled every nook and corner; even +the rose-bush which grew outside the dining-room window sent a few +venturesome <!-- Page 305 --> +roses over the sill to lend their fragrance to those within.</p> +<p>And such a flutter of expectancy and romance and joy as pervaded +the place! All the youth of Clayton was there, loitering about the +grounds in gay little groups, or lingering in couples under the +shadow of the big porches.</p> +<p>In the library Judge and Mrs. Hollis did the honors, and +presented the guests to little Miss Merritt, whose cordial, homely +greetings counteracted the haughty disapproval of the portraits +overhead.</p> +<p>Mr. Moseley rambled through the rooms, indulging in a flowing +monologue which was as independent of an audience as a summer +brook.</p> +<p>Mr. Meech sought a secluded spot under the stairway and +nervously practised the wedding service, while Mrs. Meech, tucked +up for once in her life, smiled bravely on the company, and thought +of a little green mound in the cemetery, which Sandy had helped her +keep bright with flowers.</p> +<p><!-- Page 306 --> +They were all there, Dr. Fenton slapping everybody on the back and +roaring at his own jokes; Sid Gray carrying Annette's flowers with +a look of plump complacency; Jimmy Reed constituting himself a +bureau of information, giving and soliciting news concerning +wedding presents, destination of wedding journey, and future +plans.</p> +<p>Up-stairs, at a hall window, the groom was living through +rapturous throes of anticipation. For the hundredth time he made +sure the ring was in the left pocket of his waistcoat.</p> +<p>From down-stairs came the hum of voices mingled with the music. +The warm breath of coming summer stole through the window.</p> +<p>Sandy looked joyously out across the fields of waving blue-grass +to the shining river. Down by the well was an old windmill, and at +its top a weather-vane. When he spied it he smiled. Once again he +was a ragged youngster, back on the Liverpool dock; the fog was +closing in, and the coarse voices of the sailors rang in his ears. +In <!-- Page 307 --> +quick flashes the scenes of his boyhood came before him,—the +days on shipboard, on the road with Ricks, at the Exposition, at +Hollis Farm, at the university,—and through them all that +golden thread of romance that had led him safe and true to the very +heart of the enchanted land where he was to dwell forever.</p> +<p>"'Fore de Lawd, Mist' Sandy, ef you ain't fergit yer +necktie!"</p> +<p>It was Aunt Melvy who burst in upon his reverie with these +ominous words. She had been expected to assist with the wedding +breakfast, but the events above-stairs had proved too alluring.</p> +<p>Sandy's hand flew to his neck. "It's at the farm," he cried in +great excitement, "wrapped in tissue-paper in the top drawer. Send +Jim, or Joe, or Nick—any of the darkies you can find!"</p> +<p>"Send nuthin'," muttered Aunt Melvy, shuffling down the stairs. +"I's gwine myself, ef I has to take de bridal kerridge."</p> +<p>Messengers were sent in hot haste, one <!-- Page 308 --> +to the farm and one to town, while Jimmy Reed was detailed to +canvass the guests and see if a white four-in-hand might be +procured.</p> +<p>"The nearest thing is Mr. Meech's," he reported on his fourth +trip up-stairs; "it's a white linen string-tie, but he doesn't want +to take it off."</p> +<p>"Faith, and he'll have to!" said Sandy, in great agitation. +"Don't he know that nobody will be looking at him?"</p> +<p>Annette appeared at a bedroom door, a whirl of roses and +pink.</p> +<p>"What's the m-matter? Ruth will have a f-fit if you wait much +longer, and my hair is coming out of curl."</p> +<p>"Take it off him," whispered Sandy, recklessly, to Jimmy Reed; +and violence was prevented only by the timely arrival of Aunt Melvy +with the original wedding tie.</p> +<p>The bridal march had sounded many times, and the impatient +guests were becoming seriously concerned, when a handkerchief +fluttered from the landing and <!-- Page 309 --> +Sandy and Ruth came down the wide white steps together.</p> +<p>Mr. Meech cleared his throat and, with one hand nervously +fidgeting under his coattail, the other thrust into the bosom of +his coat, began:</p> +<p>"We are assembled here to-day to witness the greatest and most +time-hallowed institution known to man."</p> +<p>Sandy heard no more. The music, the guests, the flowers, even +his necktie, faded from his mind.</p> +<p>A sacred hush filled his soul, through which throbbed the vows +he was making before God and man. The little hand upon his arm +trembled, and his own closed upon it in instant sympathy and +protection.</p> +<p>"In each of the ages gone," Mr. Meech was saying with increasing +eloquence, "man has wooed and won the sweet girl of his choice, and +then, with the wreath of fairest orange-blossoms encircling her +pure brow, while yet the blush of innocent love crimsoned her +cheek, led her away in trembling <!-- Page 310 --> +joy to the hymeneal altar, that their names, their interests, their +hearts, might all be made one, just as two rays of light, two drops +of dew, sometimes meet, to kiss—to part no more forever."</p> +<p>Suddenly a loud shout sounded from the upper hall, followed by +sounds like the repeated fall of a heavy body. Mr. Meech paused, +and all eyes were turned in consternation toward the door. Then +through the stillness rang out a hallelujah from above.</p> +<p>"Praise de Lawd, de light's done come! De darkness, lak de +thunder, done roll away. I's saved at last, and my name is done +written in de Promised Land! Amen! Praise de Lawd! Amen!"</p> +<p>To part of the company at least the situation was clear. Aunt +Melvy, after seeking religion for nearly sixty years, had chosen +this inopportune time to "come th'u'."</p> +<p>She was with some difficulty removed to the wash-house, where +she continued her thanksgiving in undisturbed exultation.</p> +<p><!-- Page 311 --> +Amid suppressed merriment, the marriage service was concluded, Mr. +Meech heroically foregoing his meteoric finale.</p> +<p>Clayton still holds dear the memory of that wedding: of the +beautiful bride and the happy groom, of the great feast that was +served indoors and out, and of the good fellowship and good cheer +that made it a gala day for the country around.</p> +<p>When it was over, Sandy and Ruth drove away in the old town +surrey, followed by such a shower of rice and flowers and blessings +as had never been known before. They started, discreetly enough, +for the railroad-station, but when they reached the river road +Sandy drew rein. Overhead the trees met in a long green arch, and +along the wayside white petals strewed the road. Below lay the +river, dancing, murmuring, beckoning.</p> +<p>"Let's not be going to the city to-day!" cried Sandy, +impulsively. "Let's be following the apple-blossoms wherever they +lead."</p> +<!-- Page 312 --> +<p>"It's all the same wherever we are," said Ruth, in joyful +freedom.</p> +<p>They turned into the road, and before them, through the trees, +lay the long stretch of smiling valley.</p> + +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SANDY***</p> +<p>******* This file should be named 14079-h.txt or 14079-h.zip *******</p> +<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> +<a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/4/0/7/14079">https://www.gutenberg.org/1/4/0/7/14079</a></p> +<p>Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed.</p> + +<p>Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: Sandy + +Author: Alice Hegan Rice + +Release Date: November 18, 2004 [eBook #14079] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SANDY*** + + +E-text prepared by Rick Niles, Ronald Holder, and the Project Gutenberg +Online Distributed Proofreading Team + + + +Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this + file which includes the original illustrations. + See 14079-h.htm or 14079-h.zip: + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/4/0/7/14079/14079-h/14079-h.htm) + or + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/4/0/7/14079/14079-h.zip) + + Images of the original pages are available through Kentuckiana + Digital Library. See http://kdl.kyvl.org + + + + + +SANDY + +by + +ALICE HEGAN RICE + +Author of _Mrs. Wiggs of the Cabbage Patch_ + +New York, The Century Co. + +1905 + + + + + + + +[Illustration: "Looking up, he saw a slender little girl in a long +tan coat and a whit tam-o'-shanter"] + + + +TO MY AUNT + +MISS MARY A. HEGAN +WHO USED TO TELL ME BETTER STORIES +THAN I SHALL EVER WRITE + + + + +CONTENTS + + CHAPTER + + I THE STOWAWAY + II ON SHIPBOARD + III THE CURSE OF WEALTH + IV SIDE-TRACKED + V SANDY RETIRES FROM BUSINESS + VI HOLLIS FARM + VII CONVALESCENCE + VIII AUNT MELVY AS A SOOTHSAYER + IX TRANSITION + X WATERLOO + XI "THE LIGHT THAT LIES" + XII ANTICIPATION + XIII THE COUNTY FAIR + XIV A COUNCIL OF WAR + XV HELL AND HEAVEN + XVI THE NELSON HOME + XVII UNDER THE WILLOWS + XVIII THE VICTIM + XIX THE TRIALS OF AN ASSISTANT POSTMASTER + XX THE IRONY OF CHANCE + XXI IN THE DARK + XXII AT WILLOWVALE + XXIII "THE SHADOW ON THE HEART" + XXIV THE PRIMROSE WAY + + + + +LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS + + +"Looking up, he saw a slender little girl in a long tan coat and a +white tam-o-shanter" Frontispiece + +"He sent up yell after yell of victory for the land of his adoption" + +"He smiled away his debt of gratitude" + +"Then he forgot all about the steps and counting time" + +"Burning deeds of prowess rioted in his brain" + +"Sandy saw her waver" + +"'It's been love, Sandy, ... ever since the first'" + + + + +CHAPTER I + +THE STOWAWAY + + +An English mist was rolling lazily inland from the sea. It half +enveloped the two great ocean liners that lay tugging at their +moorings in the bay, and settled over the wharf with a grim +determination to check, as far as possible, the traffic of the +morning. + +But the activity of the wharf, while impeded, was in no wise stopped. +The bustle, rattle, and shouting were, in fact, augmented by the +temporary interference. Everybody seemed in a hurry, and everybody +seemed out of temper, save a boy who lay at full length on the quay +and earnestly studied a weather-vane that was lazily trying to make +up its mind which way to point. + +He was ragged and brawny and picturesque. His hands, bronzed by the +tan of sixteen summers, were clasped under his head, and his legs were +crossed, one soleless shoe on high vaunting its nakedness in the face +of an indifferent world. A sailor's blouse, two sizes too large, was +held together at the neck by a bit of red cambric, and his trousers +were anchored to their mooring by a heavy piece of yellow twine. The +indolence of his position, however, was not indicative of the state of +his mind; for under his weather-beaten old cap, perched sidewise on a +tousled head, was a commotion of dreams and schemes, ambitions and +plans, whose activities would have put to shame the busiest wharf in +the world. + +"It's your show, Sandy Kilday!" he said, half aloud, with a bit of a +brogue that flavored his speech as the salt flavors the sea air. "You +don't want to be a bloomin' old weather-vane, a-changin' your mind +every time the wind blows. Is it go, or stay?" + +The answer, instead of coming, got sidetracked by the train of thought +that descended upon him when he was actually face to face with his +decision. All sorts of memories came rushing pell-mell through his +brain. The cold and hungry ones were the most insistent, but he +brushed them aside. + +The one he clung to longest was the earliest and most shadowy of the +lot. It was of a little white house on an Irish heath, and inside was +the biggest fireplace in the world, where crimson flames went roaring +up the big, dark chimney, and where witches and fairies held high +carnival. There was a big chair on each side the hearth, and between +them a tiny red rocker with flowers painted on the arms of it. That +was the clearest of all. There were persons in the large chairs, one a +silent Scotchman who, instinct told him, must have been his father, +and the other--oh, tricky memory that faltered when he wanted it to be +so clear!--was the maddest, merriest little mother that ever came +back to haunt a lad. By holding tight to the memory he could see that +her eyes were blue like his own, but her hair was black. He could hear +the ring of her laugh as she told him Irish stories, and the soft +drone of her voice as she sang him old Irish songs. It was she who +told him about the fairies and witches that lived up behind the +peat-flames. He remembered holding her hand and putting his cheek +against it when the goblins came too near. Then the picture would go +out, like a picture in a magic-lantern show, and sometimes Sandy could +make it come back, and sometimes he could not. + +After that came a succession of memories, but none of them held the +silent father and the merry mother and the little white house on the +heath. They were of new faces and new places, of temporary homes with +relatives in Ireland and Scotland, of various schools and unceasing +work. Then came the day, two years ago, when, goaded by some +injustice, real or imagined, he had run away to England and struck out +alone and empty-handed to care for himself. It had been a rough +experience, and there were days that he was glad to forget; but +through it all the taste of freedom had been sweet in his mouth. + +For three weeks he had been hanging about the docks, picking up jobs +here and there, accommodating any one who wanted to be accommodated, +making many friends and little money. He had had no thought of +embarking until the big English liner _Great Britain_ arrived in port +after breaking all records on her homeward passage. She was to start +on her second trip to-day, and an hour later her rival, the steamship +_America_, was to take her departure. The relative merits of the two +vessels had been the talk of the wharf for days. + +Sandy had made it a rule in life to be on hand when anything was +happening. He had viewed cricket-matches from tree-tops, had answered +the call of fire at midnight, and tramped ten miles to see the finish +of a great regatta. But something was about to take place which seemed +entirely beyond his attainment. Two hours passed before he solved the +problem. + +"Takin' the rest-cure, kid?" asked a passing sailor as he shied a +stick at Sandy's shins. + +Sandy stretched himself and smiled up at the sailor. It was a smile +that waited for an answer and usually got it--a smile so brimming over +with good-fellowship and confidence that it made a lover of a friend +and a friend of an enemy. + +"It's a trip that I'm thinkin' of takin'," he cried blithely as he +jumped to his feet. "Here's the shillin' I owe you, partner, and may +the best luck ye've had be the worst luck that's comin'." + +He tossed a coin to the sailor, and thrusting his hands in his +pockets, executed a brief but brilliant _pas seul_, and then went +whistling away down the wharf. He swung along right cheerily, his rags +fluttering, his chin in the air, for the wind had settled in one +direction, and the weather-vane and Sandy had both made up their +minds. + +The sailor looked after him fondly. "He's a bloomin' good little +chap," he said to a man near by. "Carries a civil tongue in his head +for everybody." + +The man grunted. "He's too off and on," he said. "He'll never come to +naught." + +Two days later, the _America_, cutting her way across the Atlantic, +carried one more passenger than she registered. In the big life-boat +swung above the hurricane-deck lay Sandy Kilday, snugly concealed by +the heavy canvas covering. + +He had managed to come aboard under cover of the friendly fog, and had +boldly appropriated a life-boat and was doing light housekeeping. The +apartment, to be sure, was rather small and dark, for the only light +came through a tiny aperture where the canvas was tucked back. At this +end Sandy attended to his domestic duties. + +Here were stored the fresh water and hardtack which the law requires +every life-boat to carry in case of an emergency. Added to these was +Sandy's private larder, consisting of several loaves of bread, a bag +of apples, and some canned meat. The other end of the boat was +utilized as a bedroom, a couple of life-preservers serving as the bed, +and his own bundle of personal belongings doing duty as a pillow. + +There were some drawbacks, naturally, especially to an energetic, +restless youngster who had never been in one place so long before in +his life. It was exceedingly inconvenient to have to lie down or +crawl; but Sandy had been used to inconveniences all his life, and +this was simply a difference in kind, not in degree. Besides, he could +steal out at night and, by being very careful and still, manage to +avoid the night watch. + +The first night out a man and a girl had come up from the cabin deck +and sat directly under his hiding-place. At first he was too much +afraid of discovery to listen to what they were saying, but later his +interest outweighed his fear. For they were evidently lovers, and +Sandy was at that inflammable age when to hear mention of love is +dangerous and to see a manifestation of it absolute contagion. When +the great question came, his heart waited for the answer. Perhaps it +was the added weight of his unspoken influence that turned the scale. +She said yes. During the silence that followed, Sandy, unable to +restrain his joy, threw his arms about a life-preserver and embraced +it fervently. + +When they were gone he crawled out to stretch his weary body. On the +deck he found a book which they had left; it was a green book, and on +the cover was a golden castle on a golden hill. All the rest of his +life he loved a green book best, for it was through this one that he +found his way back again to that enchanted land that lay behind the +peat-flames in the shadowy memory. Early in the morning he read it, +with his head on the box of hardtack and his feet on the water-can. +Twice he reluctantly tore himself from its pages and put it back where +he had found it. No one came to claim it, and it lay there, with the +golden castle shining in the sun. Sandy decided to take one more peep. + +It was all about gallant knights and noble lords, of damsels passing +fair, of tourneys and feasts and battles fierce and long. Story after +story he devoured, until he came to the best one of all. It told of a +beautiful damsel with a mantle richly furred, who was girt with a +cumbrous sword which did her great sorrow; for she might not be +delivered of it save by a knight who was of passing good name both of +his lands and deeds. And after that all the great knights had striven +in vain to draw the sword from its sheath, a poor knight, poorly +arrayed, felt in his heart that he might essay it, but was abashed. At +last, however, when the damsel was departing, he plucked up courage to +ask if he might try; and when she hesitated he said: "Fair damsel, +worthiness and good deeds are not only in arrayment, but manhood and +worship are hid within man's person." Then the poor knight took the +sword by the girdle and sheath and drew it out easily. + +And it was not until then that Sandy knew that he had had no dinner, +and that the sun had climbed over to the other side of the steamer, +and that a continual cheering was coming up from the deck below. +Cautiously he pulled back the canvas flap and emerged like the head of +a turtle from his shell. The bright sunshine dazzled him for a moment, +then he saw a sight that sent the dreams flying. There, just ahead, +was the _Great Britain_ under full way, valiantly striving to hold her +record against the oncoming steamer. + +Sandy sat up and breathlessly watched the champion of the sea, her +smoke-stacks black against the wide stretch of shining waters. The +Union Jack was flying in insolent security from her flagstaff. There +were many figures on deck, and her music was growing louder every +minute. Inch by inch the _America_ gained upon her, until they were +bow and bow. The crowd below grew wilder, cheers went up from both +steamers, the decks were white with the flutter of handkerchiefs. +Suddenly the band below struck up "The Star-Spangled Banner." Sandy +gave one triumphant glance at the Stars and Stripes floating overhead, +and in that moment became naturalized. He leaped to his feet in the +boat, and tearing the blouse from his back, waved the tattered banner +in the face of the vanquished _Great Britain_, as he sent up yell +after yell of victory for the land of his adoption. + +[Illustration: "He sent up yell after yell of victory for the land of +his adoption"] + +Then he was seized by the ankle and jerked roughly down upon the deck. +Over him stood the deck steward. + +"You`re a rum egg for that old boat to hatch out," he said. "I guess +the cap'n will be wantin' to see you." + +Sandy, thus peremptorily summoned from the height of patriotic +frenzy, collapsed in terror. Had the deck steward not been familiar +with stowaways, he doubtless would have been moved by the flood of +eloquent persuasion which Sandy brought to bear. + +As it was, he led him ruthlessly down the narrow steps, past the long +line of curious passengers, then down again to the steerage deck, +where he deposited him on a coil of rope and bade him stay there until +he was sent for. + +Here Sandy sat for the remainder of the afternoon, stared at from +above and below, an object of lively curiosity. He bit his nails until +the blood came, and struggled manfully to keep back the tears. He was +cold, hungry, and disgraced, and his mind was full of sinister +thoughts. Inch by inch he moved closer to the railing. + +Suddenly something fell at his feet. It was an orange. Looking up, he +saw a slender little girl in a long tan coat and a white +tam-o'-shanter leaning over the railing. He only knew that her eyes +were brown and that she was sorry for him, but it changed his world. +He pulled off his cap, and sent her such an ardent smile of gratitude +that she melted from the railing like a snowflake under the kiss of +the sun. + +Sandy ate the orange and took courage. Life had acquired a new +interest. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +ON SHIPBOARD + + +The days that followed were not rose-strewn. Disgrace sat heavily upon +the delinquent, and he did penance by foregoing the joys of society. +Menial labor and the knowledge that he would not be allowed to land, +but would be sent back by the first steamer, were made all the more +unbearable by his first experience with illness. He had accepted his +fate and prepared to die when the ship's surgeon found him. + +The ship's surgeon was cruel enough to laugh, but he persuaded Sandy +to come back to life. He was a small, white, round little man; and +when he came rolling down the deck in his white linen suit, his face +beaming from its white frame of close-cropped hair and beard, he was +not unlike one of his own round white little pills, except that their +sweetness stopped on the outside and his went clear through. + +He discovered Sandy lying on his face in the passageway, his right +hand still dutifully wielding the scrub-brush, but his spirit broken +and his courage low. + +"Hello!" he exclaimed briskly; "what's your name?" + +"Sandy Kilday." + +"Scotch, eh?" + +"Me name is. The rest of me's Irish," groaned Sandy. + +"Well, Sandy, my boy, that's no way to scrub. Come out and get some +air, and then go back and do it right." + +He guided Sandy's dying footsteps to the deck and propped him against +the railing. That was when he laughed. + +"Not much of a sailor, eh?" he quizzed. "You'll be all right soon; we +have been getting the tail-end of a big nor'wester." + +"A happy storm it must have been, sir, to wag its tail so gay," said +Sandy, trying to smile. + +The doctor clapped him on the back. "You're better. Want something to +eat?" + +Sandy declined with violence. He explained his feelings with all the +authority of a first experience, adding in conclusion: "It was Jonah I +used to be after feelin' sorry for; it ain't now. It's the whale." + +The doctor prevailed upon him to drink some hot tea and eat a +sandwich. It was a heroic effort, but Sandy would have done even more +to prolong the friendly conversation. + +"How many more days have we got, sir?" + +"Five; but there's the return trip for you." + +Sandy's face flushed. "If they send me home, I'll be comin' back!" he +cried, clinging to the railing as the ship lurched forward. "I'm goin' +to be an American. I am goin'--" Further declarations as to his +future policy were cut short. + +From that time on the doctor took an interest in him. He even took up +a collection of clothes for him among the officers. His professional +services were no longer necessary, for Sandy enjoyed a speedy recovery +from his maritime troubles. + +"You are luckier than the rest," he said, one day, stopping on his +rounds. "I never had so many steerage patients before." + +The work was so heavy, in fact, that he obtained permission to get a +boy to assist him. The happy duty devolved upon Sandy, who promptly +embraced not only the opportunity, but the doctor and the profession +as well. He entered into his new work with such energy and enthusiasm +that by the end of the week he knew every man below the cabin deck. So +expeditious did he become that he found many idle moments in which to +cultivate acquaintances. + +His chosen companion at these times was a boy in the steerage, +selected not for congeniality, but for his unlimited knowledge of all +things terrestrial, from the easiest way of making a fortune to the +best way of spending it. He was a short, heavy-set fellow of some +eighteen years. His hair grew straight up from an overhanging +forehead, under which two small eyes seemed always to be furtively +watching each other over the bridge of his flat snub nose. His lips +met with difficulty across large, irregular teeth. Such was Ricks +Wilson, the most unprepossessing soul on board the good ship +_America_. + +"You see, it's this way," explained Ricks as the boys sat behind the +smokestack and Sandy became initiated into the mysteries of a +wonderful game called "craps." "I didn't have no more 'n you've got. I +lived down South, clean off the track of ever'thing. I puts my foot in +my hand and went out and seen the world. I tramps up to New York, +works my way over to England, tramps and peddles, and gits enough +dough to pay my way back. Say, it's bum slow over there. Why, they +ain't even on to street-cars in London! I makes more in a week at home +than I do in a month in England. Say, where you goin' at when we +land?" + +Sandy shook his head ruefully. "I got to go back," he said. + +Ricks glanced around cautiously, then moved closer. + +"You ain't that big a sucker, are you? Any feller that couldn't hop +the twig offen this old boat ain't much, that's all I got to say." + +"Oh, it's not the gettin' away," said Sandy, more certain than ever, +now that he was sure of an ally. + +"Homesick?" asked Ricks, with a sneer. + +Sandy gave a short laugh. "Home? Why, I ain't got any home. I've just +lived around since I was a young one. It's a chance to get on that I'm +after." + +"Well, what in thunder is takin' you back?" + +"I don't know," said Sandy, "'cep'n' it ain't in me to give 'em the +slip now I know 'em. Then there's the doctor--" + +"That old feather-bed? O Lord! He's so good he gives me a pain. Goes +round with his mouth hiked up in a smile, and I bet he's as mean as +the--" + +Before Hicks could finish he found himself inextricably tangled in +Sandy's arms and legs, while that irate youth sat upon him and +pommeled him soundly. + +"So it's the good doctor ye'd be after blasphemin' and abusin' and +makin' game of! By the powers, ye'll take it back! Speak one time +more, and I'll make you swaller the lyin' words, if I have to break +every bone in your skin!" + +There was an ugly look in Ricks's face as he threw the smaller boy +off, but further trouble was prevented by the appearance of the second +mate. + +Sandy hurried away to his duties, but not without an anxious glance at +the upper deck. He had never lost an opportunity, since that first +day, of looking up; but this was the first time that he was glad she +was not there. Only once had he caught sight of a white tam and a tan +coat, and that was when they were being conducted hastily below by a +sympathetic stewardess. + +But Sandy needed no further food for his dreams than he already had. +On sunny afternoons, when he had the time, he would seek a secluded +corner of the deck, and stretching himself on the boards with the +green book in his hand, would float in a sea of sentiment. The fact +that he had decided to study medicine and become a ship's surgeon in +no wise interfered with his fixed purpose of riding forth into the +world on a cream-white charger in search of a damsel in distress. + +So thrilled did he become with the vision that he fell to making +rhymes, and was surprised to find that the same pair of eyes always +rhymed with skies--and they were brown. + +Sometimes, at night, a group would gather on the steerage deck and +sing. A black-haired Italian, with shirt open at the throat, would +strike a pose and fling out a wild serenade; or a fat, placid German +would remove his pipe long enough to troll forth a mighty +drinking-song. Whenever the air was a familiar one, the entire circle +joined in the chorus. At such times Sandy was always on hand, singing +with the loudest and telling his story with the best. + +"Make de jolly little Irish one to sing by hisself!" called a woman +one night from the edge of the crowd. The invitation was taken up and +repeated on every side. Sandy, laughing and protesting, was pushed to +the front. Being thus suddenly forced into prominence, he suffered an +acute attack of stage fright. + +"Chirp up there now and give us a tune!" cried some one behind him. + +"Can't ye remember none?" asked another. + +"Sure," said Sandy, laughing sheepishly; "but they all come wrong end +first." + +Some one had thrust an old guitar in his hands, and he stood +nervously picking at the strings. He might have been standing there +still had not the moon come to his rescue. It climbed slowly out of +the sea and sent a shimmer of silver and gold over the water, across +the deck, and into his eyes. He forgot himself and the crowd. The +stream of mystical romance that flows through the veins of every true +Irishman was never lacking in Sandy. His heart responded to the +beautiful as surely as the echo answers the call. + +He seized the guitar, and picking out the notes with clumsy, faltering +fingers, sang: + + "Ah! The moment was sad when my love and I parted, + Savourneen deelish, signan O!" + +His boyish voice rang out clear and true, softening on the refrain to +an indescribable tenderness that steeped the old song in the very +essence of mystery and love. + + "As I kiss'd off her tears, I was nigh broken-hearted!-- + Savourneen deelish, signan O!" + +He could remember his mother singing him to sleep by it, and the +bright red of her lips as they framed the words: + + "Wan was her cheek which hung on my shoulder; + Chill was her hand, no marble was colder; + I felt that again I should never behold her; + Savourneen deelish, signan O!" + +As the song trembled to a close, a slight burst of applause came from +the cabin deck. Sandy looked up, frowned, and bit his lip. He did not +know why, but he was sorry he had sung. + +The next morning the _America_ sailed into New York harbor, band +playing and flags flying. She was bringing home a record and a +jubilant crew. On the upper decks passengers were making merry over +what is probably the most joyful parting in the world. In the steerage +all was bustle and confusion and anticipation of the disembarking. + +Eagerly, wistfully watching it all, stood Sandy, as alert and +distressed as a young hound restrained from the hunt. It is something +to accept punishment gracefully, but to accept punishment when it can +be avoided is nothing short of heroism. Sandy had to shut his eyes and +grip the railing to keep from planning an escape. Spread before him in +brave array across the water lay the promised land--and, like Moses, +he was not to reach it. + +"That's the greatest city in America," said the ship's surgeon as he +came up to where he was standing. "What do you think of it?" + +"I never seen one stand on end afore!" exclaimed Sandy, amazed. + +"Would you like to go ashore long enough to look about?" asked the +doctor, with a smile running around the fat folds of his cheeks. + +"And would I?" asked Sandy, his eyes flying open. "It's me word of +honor I'd give you that I'd come back." + +"The word of a stowaway, eh?" asked the doctor, still smiling. + +In a moment Sandy's face was crimson. "Whatever I be, sir, I ain't a +liar!" + +The doctor pursed up his lips in comical dismay: "Not so hot, my man; +not so hot! So you still want to be a doctor?" + +Sandy cooled down sufficiently to say that it was the one ambition of +his life. + +"I know the physician in charge of the City Hospital here in New York. +He's a good fellow. He'd put you through--give you work and put you in +the way of going to the Medical School. You'd like that?" + +"But," cried Sandy, bewildered but hopeful, "I have to go back!" + +The doctor shook his head. "No, you don't. I've paid your passage." + +Sandy waited a moment until the full import of the words was taken in, +then he grabbed the stout little doctor and almost lifted him off his +feet. + +"Oh! But ain't you a brick!" he cried fervently, adding earnestly: "It +ain't a present you're makin' me, though! I'll pay it back, so help me +bob!" + +At the pier the crowd of immigrants pushed and crowded impatiently as +they waited for the cabin passengers to go ashore. Among them was +Sandy, bareheaded and in motley garb, laughing and shoving with the +best of them, hanging over the railing, and keeping up a fire of +merriment at the expense of the crowd below. In his hand was a letter +of recommendation to the physician in charge at the City Hospital, and +in his inside pocket a ten-dollar bill was buttoned over a heart that +had not a care in the world. In the great stream of life Sandy was one +of the bubbles that are apt to come to the top. + +"You better come down to Kentucky with me," urged Ricks Wilson, +resuming an old argument. "I'm goin' to peddle my way back home, then +git a payin' job at the racetrack." + +"Wasn't I tellin' ye that it was a doctor I'm goin' to be?" asked +Sandy, impatiently. Already Ricks's friendship was proving irksome. + +On the gang-plank above him the passengers were leaving the ship. +Some delay had arisen, and for a moment the procession halted. +Suddenly Sandy caught his breath. There, just above him, stood "the +damsel passing fair." Instead of the tam-o'-shanter she wore a big +drooping hat of brown, which just matched the curls that were loosely +tied at the back of her neck. + +Sandy stood motionless and humbly adored her. He was a born lover, +lavishing his affection, without discrimination or calculation, upon +whatever touched his heart. It surely was no harm just to stand aside +and look. He liked the way she carried her head; he liked the way her +eyes went up a little at the outer corners, and the round, soft curve +of her chin. She was gazing steadfastly ahead of her down the +gang-plank, and he ventured a step nearer and continued his +observations. As he did so, he made a discovery. The soft white of her +cheek was gradually becoming pinker and pinker; the color which began +under her lace collar stole up and up until it reached her eyes, +which still gazed determinedly before her. + +Sandy admired it as a traveler admires a sunrise, and with as little +idea of having caused it. + +The line of passengers moved slowly forward, and his heart sank. +Suddenly his eyes fell upon the little hand-bag which she carried. On +one end, in small white letters, was: "Ruth Nelson, Kentucky, U.S.A." +He watched her until she was lost to view, then he turned eagerly back +into the crowd. Elbowing his way forward, he seized Ricks by the arm. + +"Hi, there!" he cried; "I've changed me mind. I'm goin' with you to +Kentucky!" + +So this impetuous knight errant enlisted under the will-o'-the-wisp +love, and started joyously forth upon his quest. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +THE CURSE OF WEALTH + + +It is an oft-proved adage that for ten who can stand adversity there +is but one who can stand prosperity. Sandy, alas! was no exception to +any rule which went to prove the frailty of human nature. The sudden +acquisition of ten dollars cast him into a whirlpool of temptation +from which he made little effort to escape. + +"I ain't goin' on to-day," announced Ricks. "I'm goin' to lay in my +goods for peddlin'. I reckon you kin come along of me." + +Sandy accepted a long and strong cigar, tilted his hat, and +unconsciously caught Ricks's slouching gait as they went down the +street. After all, it was rather pleasant to associate with +sophistication. + +"We'll git on the outside of a little dinner," said Ricks; "and I'll +mosey round in the stores awhile, then I'll take you to a show or two. +It's a mighty good thing for you that you got me along." + +Sandy thought so too. He cheerfully stood treat for the rest of the +day, and felt that it was small return for Ricks's condescension. + +"How much you got left?" asked Ricks, that night, as they stopped +under a street light to take stock. + +Sandy held out a couple of dollars and a fifty-cent piece. + +"Enough to put on the eyes of two and a half dead men," he said as he +curiously eyed the strange money. + +"One, two,--two and a half," counted Ricks. + +"Shillings?" asked Sandy, amazed. + +Ricks nodded. + +"And have I blowed all that to-day?" + +"What of it?" asked Ricks. "I seen a bloke onct what lit his cigar +with a bill like the one you had!" + +"But the doctor said it was two pounds," insisted Sandy, +incredulously. He did not realize the expense of a personally +conducted tour of the Bowery. + +"Well, it's went," said Ricks, resignedly. "You can't count on settin' +up biz with what's left." + +Sandy's brows clouded, and he shifted his position restlessly. "Now I +ax yerself, Ricks, what'u'd you do?" he said. + +"Me? I don't give advice to nobody. But effen it was me I'd know +mighty quick what to do." + +"What?" said Sandy, eagerly. + +"Buy a dawg." + +"A dog? I ain't goin' blind." + +"Lor'! but you're a softhorn," said Ricks, contemptuously. "I s'pose +you'd count on leadin' him round by a pink ribbon." + +"Oh, you mean a fighter?" + +"Sure. My last dawg could do ever'thing in sight. She was so game she +went after herself in a lookin'-glass and got kilt. Oh, they's money +in dawgs, and I knows how to make 'em win ever' time." + +Sandy, tired as he was from the day's excitement, insisted upon going +in search of one at once. He already had visions of becoming the proud +owner of a canine champion that would put him immediately into the +position of lighting his cigar with a two-pound note. + +The first three weeks of their experience on the road went far to +realize their expectations. The bulldog, which had been bought in +partnership, proved a conquering hero. Through the long summer days +the boys tramped over the country, peddling their wares, and by night +they conducted sundry unlawful encounters wherever an opponent could +be found. + +Sandy enjoyed the peddling. It was astonishing what friendly +sociability and confidential intimacy were established by the sale of +blue suspenders and pink soap. He left a line of smiling testimonials +in his wake. + +But if the days were proving satisfactory, so much could not be said +of the nights. Even the phenomenal luck that followed his dog failed +to keep up his enthusiasm. + +"You ain't a nachrul sport," complained Ricks. "That's your trouble. +When the last fight was on, you set on the fence and listened at a' +ole idiot scrapin' a fiddle down in the valley." + +Sandy made a feeble defense, but he knew in his soul it was so. + +Affairs reached a climax one night in an old barn on the outskirts of +a town. A fight was about to begin when Sandy discovered Ricks +judiciously administering a sedative to the enemy's dog. + +Then understanding dawned upon him, and his rage was elemental. With a +valor that lacked the better part of discretion, he hurled himself +through the crowd and fell upon Ricks. + +An hour later, bruised, bloody, and vanquished, he stumbled along +through the dreary night. Hot with rage and defeat, utterly ignorant +of his whereabouts, his one friend turned foe, he was indeed in sorry +plight. + +He climbed over the fence and lay face downward in the long, cool +grass, stretching his bruised and aching body along the ground. A +gentle night wind rustled above him, and by and by a star peeped out, +then another and another. Before he knew it, he was listening to the +frogs and katydids, and wondering what they were talking about. He +ceased to think about Ricks and his woes, and gave himself up to the +delicious, drowsy peace that was all about him. For, child of nature +that he was, he had turned to the only mother he knew. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +SIDE-TRACKED + + +The next morning, at the nearest railroad station, an irate cattleman +was trying to hire some one to take charge of a car of live stock +which was on its way to a great exposition in a neighboring city. The +man he had counted on had not appeared, and the train was about due. + +As he was turning away in desperation he felt a tug at his elbow. +Looking around, he saw a queer figure with a countenance that +resembled a first attempt at a charcoal sketch from life: one cheek +was larger than the other, the mouth was sadly out of drawing, the +eyes shone out from among the bruises like the sun from behind the +clouds. But if the features were disfigured, the smile was none the +less courageous. + +Sandy had found a friendly sympathizer at a neighboring farm-house, +had been given a good breakfast, had made his toilet, and was ready +for the next round in the fight of life. + +"I'll be doin' yer job, sir, whatever it is," he said pleasantly. + +The man eyed him with misgiving, but his need was urgent. + +"All you have to do is to stay in the car and look after the cattle. +My man will meet you when you reach the city. Do you think you can do +it?" + +"Just keep company with the cows?" cried Sandy. "Sure and I can!" + +So the bargain was struck, and that night found him in the great city +with a dollar in his pocket and a promise of work in the morning. + +Tired and sore from the experiences of the night before, he sought a +cheap lodging-house near by. A hook-nosed woman, carrying a smoking +lamp, conducted him to a room under the eaves. It was small and +suffocating. He involuntarily lifted his hands and touched the +ceiling. + +"It's like a boilin' potato I feel," he said; "and the pot's so little +and the lid so tight!" + +He went to the window, and taking out the nail that held down the +sash, pushed it up. Below him lay the great, bustling city, cabs and +cars in constant motion, long lines of blazing lights marking the +thoroughfares, the thunder of trains in the big station, and above and +below and through it all a dull monotonous roar, like the faraway +unceasing cry of a hungry beast. + +He sank on his knees by the window, and a restless, nervous look came +into his eyes. + +"It presses in, too," he thought. "It's all crowdin' over me. I'm just +me by myself, all alone." A tear made a white course down his grimy +cheek, then another and another. He brushed them impatiently away with +the cap he still held in his hand. + +Rising abruptly, he turned away from the window, and the hot air of +the room again smote him. The smoking lamp had blackened the chimney, +and as he bent to turn it down, he caught his reflection in a small +mirror over the table. What the bruises and swelling had left undone +the cheap mirror completed. He started back. Was that the boy he knew +as himself? Was that Sandy Kilday who had come to America to seek his +fortune? He stared in a sort of fascinated horror at that other boy in +the mirror. Before he had been afraid to be by himself, now he was +afraid of himself. + +He seized his cap, and blowing out the lamp, plunged down four flights +of steep narrow steps and out into the street. A number of people were +crowding into a street-car marked "Exposition." Sandy, ever a straw in +the current, joined them. Once more down among his fellow-men, he +began to feel more comfortable. He cheerfully paid his entrance fee +with one of the two silver coins in his pocket. + +The first building he entered was the art gallery, and the first +picture that caught his eye held him spellbound. He sat before it all +the evening with fascinated eyes, devouring every detail and oblivious +to the curious interest he was attracting; for the huge canvas +represented the Knights of the Round Table, and he had at last found +friends. + +All the way back he thought about the picture; it was not until he +reached his room that the former loneliness returned. + +But even then it was not for long. A pair of yellow eyes peered around +the window-sill, and a plaintive "meow" begged for admittance. It was +plainly Providence that guided that thin and ill-treated kitten to +Sandy's window. The welcome it received must have completely restored +its shaken faith in human nature. Tired as he was, Sandy went out and +bought some milk. He wanted to establish a firm friendship; for if he +was to stay in this lonely city, he must have something to love, if +only a prodigal kitten of doubtful pedigree. + +During the long, hot days that followed Sandy worked faithfully at the +depot. The regular hours and confinement seemed doubly irksome after +the bohemian life on the road. + +The Exposition was his salvation. No sacrifice seemed too great to +enable him to get beyond that magic gate. For the "Knights of the +Round Table" was but the beginning of miles and miles of wonderful +pictures. He even bought a catalogue, and, prompted by a natural +curiosity for anything that interested him, learned the names of the +artists he liked best, and the bits of biography attached to each. He +would recite these to the yellow kitten when he got back to his little +hot-box of a room. + +One night the art gallery was closed, and he went into another big +building where a crowd of people were seated. At one end of it was a +great pipe-organ, and after a while some one began to play. With his +cap tightly grasped in both hands, he tiptoed down the center aisle +and stood breathlessly drinking in the wonderful tones that seemed to +be coming from his own heart. + +"Get out of the way, boy," said an usher. "You are blocking the +aisle." + +A queer-appearing lady who looked like a man touched his elbow. + +"Here's a seat," she said in a deep voice. + +"Thank you, sir," said Sandy, absently. He scarcely knew whether he +was sitting or standing. He only wanted to be let alone, so that he +could listen to those strange, beautiful sounds that made a shiver of +joy go down his back. Art had had her day; it was Music's turn. + +When the last number had been played, he turned to the queer lady: + +"Do they do it every night?" + +She smiled at his enthusiasm: "Wednesdays and Saturdays." + +"Say," said Sandy, confidentially, "if you come first do you save me +a seat, and I'll do the same by you." + +From that time on he decided to be a musician, and he lived on two +scanty meals a day in order to attend the concerts. + +But this exalted scheme of high thinking and plain living soon became +irksome. One day, when his loneliness weighed most heavily upon him, +he was sent with a message out to the switch-station. As he tramped +back along the track he spied a familiar figure ahead of him. There +was no mistaking that short, slouching body with the peddler's pack +strapped on its back. With a cry of joy, Sandy bounded after Ricks +Wilson. He actually hugged him in his joy to be once more with some +one he knew. + +Ricks glanced uneasily at the scar above his eye. + +Sandy clapped his hand over it and laughed. "It's all right, Ricks; a +miss is as good as a mile. I ain't mad any more. It's straight home +with me you are goin'; and if we can get the two feet of you into me +bit of a room, we'll have a dinner that's fit for a king." + +On the way they laid in a supply of provisions, Sandy even going to +the expense of a bottle of beer for Ricks. + +The yellow kitten arched her back and showed general signs of +hostility when the stranger was introduced. But her unfriendly +demonstrations were ignored. Ricks was the honored guest, and Sandy +extended to him the full hospitality of the establishment. + +"Put your pack on the floor and yerself in the chair, and I'll get ye +filled up in the blink of an eyelash. Don't be mindin' the cat, Ricks. +She's just lettin' on she don't take to you. She give me the wink on +the sly." + +Ricks, expanding under the influence of food and drink, became +eloquent. He recounted courageous adventures of the past, and outlined +marvelous schemes for the future, by which he was going to make a +short cut to fame and glory. + +When it was time for him to go, Sandy heaved a sigh of regret. For +two hours he had been beguiled by Ricks's romances, and now he had to +go back to the humdrum duties at the depot, and receive a sound rating +for his belated appearance. + +"Which way might you be goin', Ricks?" he asked wistfully. + +"Same place I started fer," said Ricks. "Kentucky." + +The will-o'-the-wisp, which had been hiding his light, suddenly swung +it full in the eyes of Sandy. Once more he saw the little maid of his +dreams, and once more he threw discretion to the winds and followed +the vision. + +Hastily collecting his few possessions, he rolled them into a bundle, +and slipping the surprised kitten into his pocket, he gladly followed +Ricks once more out into the broad green meadows, along the white and +shining roads that lead over the hills to Kentucky. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +SANDY RETIRES FROM BUSINESS + + +"This here is too blame slow fer me," said Ricks, one chilly night in +late September, as he and Sandy huddled against a haystack and settled +up their weekly accounts. + +"Fifty-five cents! Now ain't that a' o'nery dab? Here's a quarter fer +you and thirty cents fer me; that's as even as you kin split it." + +"It's the microscopes that'll be sellin'," said Sandy, hopefully, as +he pulled his coat collar about his ears and shivered. "The man as +sold 'em to me said they was a great bargain entirely. He thought +there was money in 'em." + +"For him," said Ricks, contemptuously. "It's like the man what gulled +us on the penknives. I lay to git even with him, all right." + +"But he give us the night's lodgin' and some breakfast," said Sandy. + +Ricks took a long drink from a short bottle, then holding it before +him, he said impressively: "A feller could do me ninety-nine good +turns, and if he done me one bad one it would wipe 'em all out. I got +to git even with anybody what does me dirty, if it takes me all my +life." + +"But don't you forget to remember?" + +"Not me. I ain't that kind." + +Sandy leaned wearily against the haystack and tried to shelter himself +from the wind. A continued diet of bread and water had made him +sensitive to the changes in the weather. + +"This here grub is kinder hard on yer head-rails," said Ricks, trying +to bite through a piece of stale bread. A baker had let them have +three loaves for a dime because they were old and hard. + +Sandy cast a longing look at Ricks's short bottle. It seemed to +remedy so many ills, heat or cold, thirst or hunger. But the strict +principles applied during his tender years made him hesitate. + +"I wish we hadn't lost the kitten," he said, feeling the need of a +more cheerful companion. + +"I'm a-goin' to git another dawg," announced Ricks. "I'm sick of this +here doin's." + +"Ain't we goin' to be turfmen?" asked Sandy, who had listened by the +hour to thrilling accounts of life on the track, and had accepted +Ricks's ambition as his own. + +"Not on twenty cents per week," growled Ricks. + +Sandy's heart sank; he knew what a new dog meant. He burrowed in the +hay and tried to sleep, but there was a queer pain that seemed to +catch hold of his breath whenever he breathed down deep. + +It rained the next day, and they tramped disconsolately through +village after village. + +They had oil-cloth covers for their baskets, but their own backs were +soaked to the skin. + +Toward evening they came to the top of a hill, from which they could +look directly down upon a large town lying comfortably in the crook of +a river's elbow. The rain had stopped, and the belated sun, struggling +through the clouds, made up for lost time by reflecting itself in +every curve of the winding stream, in every puddle along the road, and +in every pane of glass that faced the west. + +"That's a nobby hoss," said Ricks, pointing down the hill. "What's the +matter with the feller?" + +A slight, delicate-looking young man was lying in the road, between +the horse and the fence. As the boys came up he stirred and tried to +rise. + +"He's off his nut," said Ricks, starting to pass on; but Sandy +stopped. + +"Get a fall?" he asked. + +The strange boy shook his head. "I guess I fainted. I must have +ridden too hard. I'll be all right in a minute." He leaned his head +against a tree and closed his eyes. + +Sandy eyed him curiously, taking in all the details of his +riding-costume down to the short whip with the silver mounting. + +"I say, Ricks," he called to his companion, who was inspecting the +horse, "can't we do somethin' for him?" + +Ricks reluctantly produced the short bottle. + +"I'm all right," insisted the boy, "if you'll just give me a lift to +the saddle." But his eager eyes followed the bottle, and before Ricks +had returned it to his pocket he held out his hand. "I believe I will +take a drink if you don't mind." He drained the contents and then +handed a coin to Ricks. + +"Now, if you'll help me," continued the stranger. "There! Thank you +very much." + +"Say, what town is this, anyway?" asked Ricks. + +"Clayton," said the boy, trying to keep his horse from backing. + +"Looks like somethin' was doin'," said Ricks. + +"Circus, I believe." + +"Then I don't blame your nag for wantin' to go back!" cried Sandy. +"Come on, Ricks; let's take in the show!" + +Half-way down the hill he turned. "Haven't we seen that fellow before, +Ricks?" + +"Not as I knows of. He looked kinder pale and shaky, but you bet yer +life he knowed how to hit the bottle." + +"He was sick," urged Sandy. + +"An' thirsty," added Ricks, with a smile of superior wisdom. + +The circus seemed such a timely opportunity to do business that they +decided to rent a stand that night and sell their wares on the street +corner. Ricks went on into town to arrange matters, while Sandy +stopped in a grocery to buy their supper. His interest in the show had +been of short duration. He felt listless and tired, something seemed +to be buzzing continually in his head, and he shivered in his damp +clothes. In the grocery he sat on a barrel and leaned his head against +the wall. + +"What you shivering about?" asked the fat woman behind the counter, as +she tied up his small package. + +"I feel like me skeleton was doin' a jig inside of me," said Sandy +through chattering teeth. + +"Looks to me like you got a chill," said the fat woman. "You wait +here, and I'll go git you some hot coffee." + +She disappeared in the rear of the store, and soon returned with a +small coffee-pot and a cup and saucer. Sandy drank two cups and a +half, then he asked the price. + +"Price?" repeated the woman, indignantly. "I reckon you don't know +which side of the Ohio River you're on!" + +Sandy made up in gratitude what she declined in cash, and started on +his way. At the corner of Main street and the bridge he found Ricks, +who had rented a stand and was already arranging his wares. Sandy +knelt on the sidewalk and unpacked his basket. + +"Only three bars of soap and seventy-five microscopes!" he exclaimed +ruefully. "Let's be layin' fine stress on the microscopes, Ricks." + +"You do the jawin', Sandy. I ain't much on givin' 'em the talk," said +Ricks. "Chuck a jolly at 'em and keep 'em hangin' round." + +As dark came on, trade began. The three bars of soap were sold, and a +purple necktie. Sandy saw that public taste must be guided in the +proper direction. He stepped up on a box and began eloquently to +enumerate the diverse uses of microscopes. + +At each end of the stand a flaring torch lighted up the scene. The +light fell on the careless, laughing faces in front, on Ricks Wilson, +black-browed and suspicious, in the rear, and it fell full on Sandy, +who stood on high and harangued the crowd. It fell on his broad, +straight shoulders and on his shining tumbled hair; but it was not +the light of the torch that gave the brightness to his eyes and the +flush to his cheek. His head was throbbing, but he felt a curious +sense of elation. He felt that he could stand there and talk the rest +of his life. He made the crowd listen, he made it laugh, he made it +buy. He told stories and sang songs, he coaxed and persuaded, until +only a few microscopes were left and the old cigar-box was heavy with +silver. + +"Step right up and take a look at a fly's leg! Every one ought to have +a microscope in his home. When you get hard up it will make a dime +look like a dollar, and a dollar like a five-dollar gold piece. Step +right up! I ain't kiddin' you. Five cents for two looks, and fifteen +for the microscope." + +Suddenly he faltered. At the edge of the crowd he had recognized two +faces. They were sensitive slender faces, strangely alike in feature +and unlike in expression. The young horseman of the afternoon was +impatiently pushing his way through the crowd, while close behind him +was a dainty girl with brown eyes slightly lifted at the outer +corners, who held back in laughing wonder to watch the scene. + +"Ricks," said Sandy, lowering his voice unsteadily, "is this +Kentucky?" + +"Yep; we crossed the line to-day." + +"I can't talk no more," said Sandy. "You'll have to be doin' it. I'm +sick." + +It was not only the fever that was burning in his veins, and making +him bury his hot head in his hands and wish he had never been born. It +was shame and humiliation, and all because of the look on the face of +the girl at the edge of the crowd. He sat in the shadow of the big box +and fought his fight. The coffee and the excitement no longer kept him +up; he was faint, and his breath came short. Above him he heard +Ricks's rasping voice still talking to the few customers who were +left. He knew, without glancing up, just how Ricks looked when he said +the words; he knew how his teeth pushed his lips back, and how his +restless little eyes watched everything at once. A sudden fierce +repulsion swept over him for peddling, for Ricks, for himself. + +"And to think," he whispered, with a sob in his throat, "that I can't +ever speak to a girl like that!" + +Ricks, jubilant over the success of the evening, decided to follow the +circus, which was to be in the next town on the following day. + +"It ain't fur," he said. "We kin push on to-night and be ready to open +early in the morning." + +Sandy, miserable in body and spirit, mechanically obeyed instructions. +His head was getting queerer all the time, and he could not remember +whether it was day or night. About a mile from Clayton he sank down by +the road. + +"Say, Ricks," he said abruptly; "I'm after quittin' peddlin'." + +"What you goin' to do?" + +"I'm goin' to school." + +If Sandy had announced his intention of putting on baby clothes and +being wheeled in a perambulator, Ricks could not have been more +astonished. + +"What?" he asked in genuine doubt. + +"'Cause I want to be the right sort," burst out Sandy, passionately. +"This ain't the way you get to be the right sort." + +Ricks surveyed him contemptuously. "Look-a here, are you comin' along +of me or not?" + +"I can't," said Sandy, weakly. + +Ricks shifted his pack, and with never a parting word or a backward +look he left his business partner of three months lying by the +roadside, and tramped away in the darkness. + +Sandy started up to follow him; he tried to call, but he had no +strength. He lay with his face on the road and talked. He knew there +was nobody to listen, but still he kept on, softly talking about +microscopes and pink soap, crying out again and again that he +couldn't ever speak to a girl like that. + +After a long while somebody came. At first he thought he must have +gone back to the land behind the peat-flames, for it was a great black +witch who bent over him, and he instinctively felt about in the grass +for the tender, soft hand which he used to press against his cheek. He +found instead the hand of the witch herself, and he drew back in +terror. + +"Fer de Lawd sake, honey, what's de matter wif you?" asked a kindly +voice. Sandy opened his eyes. A tall old negro woman bent over him, +her head tied up in a turban, and a shawl about her shoulders. + +"Did you git runned over?" she asked, peering down at him anxiously. + +Sandy tried to explain, but it was all the old mixture of soap and +microscopes and never being able to speak to her. He knew he was +talking at random, but he could not say the things he thought. + +"Where'd you come from, boy?" + +"Curragh Chase, Limerick," murmured Sandy. + +"'Fore de Lawd, he's done been cunjered!" cried the old woman, aghast. +"I'll git it outen of you, chile. You jus' come home wif yer Aunt +Melvy; she'll take keer of you. Put yer arm on my shoulder; dat's +right. Don't you mind where you gwine at. I got yer bundle. It ain't +fur. Hit's dat little house a-hangin' on de side of de hill. Dey calls +it 'Who'd 'a' Thought It,' 'ca'se you nebber would 'a' thought of +puttin' a house dere. Dat's right; lean on yer mammy. I'll git dem old +cunjers outen you." + +Thus encouraged and supported, Sandy stumbled on through the dark, up +a hillside that seemed never to end, across a bridge, then into a tiny +log cabin, where he dropped exhausted. + +Off and on during the night he knew that there was a fire in the room, +and that strange things were happening to him. But it was all so queer +and unnatural that he did not know where the dreams left off and the +real began. He was vaguely conscious of his left foot being tied to +the right bedpost, of a lock of his hair being cut off and burned on +the hearth, and of a low monotonous chant that seemed to rise and fall +with the flicker of the flames. And when he cried out with the pain in +his sleep, a kindly black face bent over him, and the chant changed +into a soothing murmur: + +"Nebber you min', sonny; Aunt Melvy gwine git dem cunjers out. She +gwine stay by you. You hol' on to her han', an' go to sleep; she'll +git dem old cunjers out." + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +HOLLIS FARM + + +Clayton was an easy-going, prosperous old town which, in the +enthusiasm of youth, had started to climb the long hill to the north, +but growing indolent with age, had decided instead to go around. + +Main street, broad and shady under an unbroken arch of maple boughs, +was flanked on each side by "Back street," the generic term applied to +all the parallel streets. The short cross-streets were designated by +the most direct method: "the street by the Baptist church," "the +street by Dr. Fenton's," "the street going out to Judge Hollis's," or +"the street where Mr. Moseley used to live." In the heart of the town +was the square, with the gray, weather-beaten court-house, the new and +formidable jail, the post-office and church. + +For twenty years Dr. Fenton's old high-seated buggy had jogged over +the same daily course. It started at nine o'clock and passed with +never-varying regularity up one street and down another. When any one +was ill a sentinel was placed at the gate to hail the doctor, who was +as sure to pass as the passenger-train. It was a familiar joke in +Clayton that the buggy had a regular track, and that the wheels always +ran in the same rut. Once, when Carter Nelson had taken too much +egg-nog and his aunt thought he had spinal meningitis, the usual route +had been reversed, and again when the blacksmith's triplets were born. +But these were especial occasions. It was a matter for investigation +when the doctor's buggy went over the bridge before noon. + +"Anybody sick out this way?" asked the miller. + +The doctor stopped the buggy to explain. + +He was a short, fat man dressed in a suit of Confederate gray. The +hand that held the reins was minus two fingers, his willing +contribution to the Lost Cause, which was still to him the great +catastrophe of all history. His whole personality was a bristling +arsenal of prejudices. When he spoke it was in quick, short volleys, +in a voice that seemed to come from the depths of a megaphone. + +"Strange boy sick at Judge Hollis's. How's trade?" + +"Fair to middlin'," answered the miller. "Do you reckon that there boy +has got anything ketchin'?" + +"Catching?" repeated the doctor savagely. "What if he has?" he +demanded. "Two epidemics of typhoid, two of yellow fever, and one of +smallpox--that's my record, sir!" + +"Looks like my children will ketch a fly-bite," said the miller, +apologetically. + +A little farther on the doctor was stopped again--this time by a +maiden in a pink-and-white gingham, with a mass of light curls +bobbing about her face. + +"Dad!" she called as she scrambled over the fence. "Where you g-going, +dad?" + +The doctor flapped the lines nervously and tried to escape, but she +pursued him madly. Catching up with the buggy, she pulled herself up +on the springs and thrust an impudent, laughing face through the +window at the back. + +"Annette," scolded her father, "aren't you ashamed? Fourteen years +old, and a tomboy! Get down!" + +"Where you g-going, dad?" she stammered, unabashed. + +"To Judge Hollis's. Get down this minute!" + +"What for?" + +"Somebody's sick. Get down, I say!" + +Instead of getting down, she got in, coming straight through the small +window, and arriving in a tangle of pink and white at his side. + +The doctor heaved a prodigious sigh. As a colonel of the Confederacy +he had exacted strict discipline and unquestioning obedience, but he +now found himself ignominiously reduced to the ranks, and another +Fenton in command. + +At Hollis Farm the judge met them at the gate. He was large and +loose-jointed, with the frame of a Titan and the smile of a child. He +wore a long, loose dressing-gown and a pair of slippers elaborately +embroidered in green roses. His big, irregular features were softened +by an expression of indulgent interest toward the world at large. + +"Good morning, doctor. Howdy, Nettie. How are you all this morning?" + +"Who's sick?" growled the doctor as he hitched his horse to the fence. + +"It's a stray lad, doctor; my old cook, Melvy, played the good +Samaritan and picked him up off the road last night. She brought him +to me this morning. He's out of his head with a fever." + +"Where'd he come from?" asked the doctor. + +"Mrs. Hollis says he was peddling goods up at Main street and the +bridge last night." + +"Which one is he?" demanded Annette, eagerly, as she emerged from the +buggy. "Is he g-good-looking, with blue eyes and light hair? Or is he +b-black and ugly and sort of cross-eyed?" + +The judge peered over his glasses quizzically. "Thinking about the +boys, as usual! Now I want to know what business you have noticing the +color of a peddler's eyes?" + +Annette blushed, but she stood her ground. "All the g-girls noticed +him. He wasn't an ordinary peddler. He was just as smart and f-funny +as could be." + +"Well, he isn't smart and funny now," said the judge, with a grim +laugh. + +The two men passed up the long avenue and into the house. At the door +they were met by Mrs. Hollis, whose small angular person breathed +protest. Her black hair was arranged in symmetrical bands which were +drawn tightly back from a straight part. When she talked, a +gold-capped tooth was disclosed on each side of her mouth, giving rise +to the judge's joke that one was capped to keep the other company, +since Mrs. Hollis's sense of order and regularity rebelled against one +eye-tooth of one color and the other of another. + +"Good morning, doctor," she said shortly; "there's the door-mat. No, +don't put your hat there; I'll take it. Isn't this a pretty business +for Melvy to come bringing a sick tramp up here--on general +cleaning-day, too?" + +"Aren't all days cleaning-days to you, Sue?" asked the judge, +playfully. + +"When you are in the house," she answered sharply. Then she turned to +the doctor, who was starting up the stairs: + +"If this boy is in for a long spell, I want him moved somewhere. I +can't have my carpets run over and my whole house smelling like a +hospital." + +"Now, Susan," remonstrated the judge, gently, "we can't turn the lad +out. We've got room and to spare. If he's got the fever, he'll have +to stay." + +"We'll see, we'll see," said the doctor. + +But when he tiptoed down from the room above there was no question +about it. + +"Very sick boy," he said, rubbing his hand over his bald head. "If he +gets better, I might take him over to Mrs. Meech's; he can't be moved +now." + +"Mrs. Meech!" cried Mrs. Hollis, in fine scorn. "Do you think I would +let him go to that dirty house--and with this fever, too? Why, Mrs. +Meech's front curtains haven't been washed since Christmas! She and +the preacher and Martha all sit around with their noses in books, and +never even know that the water-spout is leaking and the porch needs +mopping! You can't tell me anything about the Meeches!" + +Neither of the men tried to do so; they stood silent in the doorway, +looking very grave. + +"For mercy sake! what is that in the front lot?" exclaimed Mrs. +Hollis. + +The doctor had an uncomfortable premonition, which was promptly +verified. One of the judge's friskiest colts was circling madly about +the driveway, while astride of it, in triumph, sat Annette, her dress +ripped at the belt, her hair flying. + +"If she don't need a woman's hand!" exclaimed Mrs. Hollis. "I could +manage her all right." + +The doctor looked from Mrs. Hollis, with her firm, close-shut mouth, +to the flying figure on the lawn. + +"Perhaps," he said, lifting his brows; but he put the odds on Annette. + +That night, when Aunt Melvy brought the lamp into the sitting-room, +she waited nervously near Mrs. Hollis's chair. + +"Miss Sue," she ventured presently, "is de cunjers comin' out?" + +"The what?" + +"De cunjers what dat pore chile's got. I done tried all de spells I +knowed, but look lak dey didn't do no good." + +"He has the fever," said Mrs. Hollis; "and it means a long spell of +nursing and bother for me." + +The judge stirred uncomfortably. "Now, Sue," he remonstrated, "you +needn't take a bit of bother. Melvy will see to him by day, and I will +look after him at night." + +Mrs. Hollis bit her lip and heroically refrained from expressing her +mind. + +"He's a mighty purty chile," said Aunt Melvy, tentatively. + +"He's a common tramp," said Mrs. Hollis. + +After supper, arranging a tray with a snowy napkin and a steaming bowl +of broth, Mrs. Hollis went up to the sick-room. Her first step had +been to have the patient bathed and combed and made presentable for +the occupancy of the guest-chamber. It had been with rebellion of +spirit that she placed him there, but the judge had taken one of those +infrequent stands which she knew it was useless to resist. She put the +tray on a table near the big four-poster bed, and leaned over to look +at the sleeper. + +Sandy lay quiet among the pillows, his fair hair tumbled, his lips +parted. As the light fell on his flushed face he stirred. + +"Here's your supper," said Mrs. Hollis, her voice softening in spite +of herself. He was younger than she had thought. She slipped her arm +under the pillow and raised his head. + +"You must eat," she said kindly. + +He looked at her vacantly, then a momentary consciousness flitted over +his face, a vague realization that he was being cared for. He put up a +hot hand and gently touched her cheek; then, rallying all his +strength, he smiled away his debt of gratitude. It was over in a +moment, and he sank back unconscious. + +[Illustration: "He smiled away his debt of gratitude"] + +Through the dreary hours of the night Mrs. Hollis sat by the bed, +nursing him with the aching tenderness that only a childless woman can +know. Below, in the depths of a big feather-bed, the judge slept in +peaceful unconcern, disturbing the silence by a series of long, loud, +and unmelodious snores. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +CONVALESCENCE + + +"Is that the Nelson phaeton going out the road?" asked Mrs. Hollis as +she peered out through the dining-room window one morning. "I +shouldn't be a bit surprised if it was Mrs. Nelson making her yearly +visits, and here my bricks haven't been reddened." + +Sandy's heart turned a somersault. He was sitting up for the first +time, wrapped in blankets and wearing a cap to cover his close-cropped +head. All through his illness he had been tortured by the thought that +he had talked of Ruth, though now wild horses could not have dragged +forth a question concerning her. + +"Melvy," continued Mrs. Hollis, as she briskly rubbed the sideboard +with some unsavory furniture-polish, "if Mrs. Nelson does come here, +you be sure to put on your white apron before you open the door; and +for pity sake don't forget the card-tray! You ought to know better +than to stick out your hand for a lady's calling-card. I told you +about that last week." + +Aunt Melvy paused in her dusting and chuckled: "Lor', honey, dat's +right! You orter put on airs all de time, wid all de money de judge is +got. He says to me yisterday, says he, 'Can't you 'suade yer Miss Sue +not to be cleanin' up so much, an' not to go out in de front yard wid +dat ole sunbonnet on?'" + +"Well, I'd like to know how things would get done if I didn't do +them," exclaimed Mrs. Hollis, hotly. "I suppose he would like me to +let things go like the Meeches! The only time I ever saw Mrs. Meech +work was when she swept the front pavement, and then she made Martha +walk around behind her and read out loud while she was doing it." + +"It's Mr. Meech that's in the yard now," announced Sandy from the +side window. "He's raking the leaves with one hand and a-reading a +book with the other." + +"I knew it!" cried Mrs. Hollis. "I never saw such doings. They say she +even leaves the dishes overnight. And yet she can sit on her porch and +smile at people going by, just like her house was cleaned up. I hate a +hypocrite." + +Sandy had had ample time to watch the Meeches during his long +convalescence. He had been moved from the spare room to a snug little +room over the kitchen, which commanded a fine view of the neighbors. +When the green book got too heavy to hold, or his eyes grew too tired +to look at the many magazines with which the judge supplied him, he +would lie still and watch the little drama going on next door. + +Mrs. Meech was a large, untidy woman who always gave the impression of +needing to be tucked up. The end of her gray braid hung out behind one +ear, her waist hung out of her belt, and even the buttons on her +shoes hung out of the buttonholes in shameless laziness. + +Mr. Meech did not need tucking in; he needed letting out. He seemed to +have shrunk in the wash of life. In spite of the fact that he was +three sizes too small for his wife, to begin with, he emphasized it by +wearing trousers that cleared his shoe-tops and sleeves half-way to +his elbows. But this was only on week-days, for on Sunday Sandy would +see him emerge, expand, and flutter forth in an ample suit of shiny +broadcloth. For Mr. Meech was the pastor of the Hard-Shell Baptist +Church in Clayton, and if his domestic economy was a matter of open +gossip, there was no question concerning the fact of his learning. It +had been the boast of the congregation for years that Judge Hollis was +the only man in town who was smart enough to understand his sermons. +When Mr. Meech started out in the morning with a book under his arm +and one sticking out of each pocket, Sandy would pull up on his elbow +to watch proceedings. He loved to see fat Mrs. Meech pat the little +man lovingly on the head and kiss him good-by; he loved to see Martha +walk with him to the gate and throw kisses after him until he turned +the curve in the road. + +Martha was a pale, thin girl with two long, straight plaits and a +long, straight dress. She went to school in the morning, and when she +came home at noon her mother always hurried to meet her and kissed her +on both cheeks. Sandy had got quite in the habit of watching for her +at the side window where she came to study. He leaned forward now to +see if she were there. + +"I thought so!" cried Mrs. Hollis, looking over his shoulder. "There +comes the Nelson phaeton this minute! Melvy, get on your white apron. +I'll wind up the cuckoo-clock and unlock the parlor door." + +"Who is it?" ventured Sandy, with internal tremors. + +"Hit's Mrs. Nelson an' her niece, Miss Rufe," said Aunt Melvy, +nervously trying to reverse her apron after tying the bow in the +front. "Dey's big bugs, dey is. Dey is quality, an' no mistake. I +b'longed to Miss Rufe's grandpaw; he done lef' her all his money, she +an' Mr. Carter. Poor Mr. Carter! Dey say he ain't got no lungs to +speak of. Ain't no wonder he's sorter wild like. He takes after his +grandpaw, my ole mars'. Lor', honey, de mint-juleps jus' nachelly ooze +outen de pores ob his grandpaw's skin! But Miss Rufe she ain't like +none ob dem Nelsons; she favors her maw. She's quality inside an' +out." + +A peal of the bell cut short further interesting revelations. Aunt +Melvy hurried through the hall, leaving doors open behind her. At the +front door she paused in dismay. Before her stood the Nelsons in +calling attire, presenting two immaculate cards for her acceptance. +Too late she remembered her instructions. + +"'Fore de Lawd!" she cried in consternation, "ef I ain't done fergit +dat pan ag'in!" + +Sandy, left alone in the dining-room, was listening with every nerve +a-quiver for the sound of Ruth's voice. The thought that she was here +under the same roof with him sent the blood bounding through his +veins. He pulled himself up, and trailing the blanket behind him, made +his way somewhat unsteadily across the room and up the back stairs. + +Behind the door of his room hung the pride of his soul, a new suit of +clothes, whole, patchless, clean, which the judge had bought him two +days before. He had sat before it in speechless admiration; he had +hung it in every possible light to get the full benefit of its beauty; +he had even in the night placed it on a chair beside the bed, so that +he could put out his hand in the dark and make sure it was there. For +it was the first new suit of clothes that he remembered ever to have +possessed. He had not intended to wear it until Sunday, but the +psychological moment had arrived. + +With trembling fingers and many pauses for rest, he made his toilet. +He looked in the mirror, and his heart nearly burst with pride. The +suit, to be sure, hung limp on his gaunt frame, and his shaven head +gave him the appearance of a shorn lamb, but to Sandy the reflection +was eminently satisfying. One thing only seemed to be lacking. He +meditated a moment, then, with some misgiving, picked up a small linen +doily from the dresser, and carefully folding it, placed it in his +breast-pocket, with one corner just visible. + +Triumphant in mind, if weak in body, he slipped down the back steps, +skirted Aunt Melvy's domain, and turned the corner of the house just +as the Nelson phaeton rolled out of the yard. Before he had time to +give way to utter despair a glimmer of hope appeared on the horizon, +for the phaeton stopped, and there was evidently something the matter. +Sandy did not wait for it to be remedied. He ran down the road with +all the speed he could muster. + +Near the gate where the little branch crossed the turnpike was a +slight embankment, and two wheels of the phaeton had slipped over the +edge and were buried deep in the soft earth. Beside it, sitting +indignantly in the water, was an irate lady who had evidently +attempted to get out backward and had taken a sudden and unexpected +seat. Her countenance was a pure specimen of Gothic architecture; a +massive pompadour reared itself above two Gothic eyebrows which +flanked a nose of unquestioned Gothic tendencies. Her mouth, with its +drooping corners, completed the series of arches, and the whole +expression was one of aspiring melancholy and injured majesty. + +Kneeling at her side, reassuring her and wiping the water from her +hands, was Ruth Nelson. + +"God send you ain't hurt, ma'am!" cried Sandy, arriving breathless. + +The girl looked up and shook her head in smiling protest, but the +Gothic lady promptly suffered a relapse. + +"I am--I know I am! Just look at my dress covered with mud, and my +glove is split. Get my smelling-salts, Ruth!" + +Ruth, upon whom the lady was leaning, turned to Sandy. + +"Will you hand it to me? It is in the little bag there on the seat." + +Sandy rushed to do her bidding. He was rather hazy as to the object of +his search; but when his fingers touched a round, soft ball he drew it +forth and hastily presented it to the lady's Roman nose. + +She, with closed eyes, was taking deep whiffs when a laugh startled +her. + +"Oh, Aunt Clara, it's your powder-puff!" cried Ruth, unable to +restrain her mirth. + +Mrs. Nelson rose with as much dignity as her draggled condition would +permit. "You'd better get me home," she said solemnly. "I may be +internally injured." She turned to Sandy. "Boy, can't you get that +phaeton back on the road?" + +Sandy, whose chagrin over his blunder had sent him to the background, +came promptly forward. Seizing the wheel, he made several ineffectual +efforts to lift it back to the road. + +"It is not moving an inch!" announced the mournful voice from above. +"Can't you take hold of it nearer the back, and exert a little more +strength?" + +Sandy bit his lip and shot a swift glance at Ruth. She was still +smiling. With savage determination he fell upon the wheel as if it had +been a mortal foe; he pushed and shoved and pulled, and finally, with +a rally of all his strength, he went on his knees in the mud and +lifted the phaeton back on the road. + +Then came a collapse, and he leaned against the nearest tree and +struggled with the deadly faintness that was stealing over him. + +"Why--why, you are the boy who was sick!" cried Ruth, in dismay. + +Sandy, white and trembling, shook his head protestingly. "It's me +bellows that's rocky," he explained between gasps. + +Mrs. Nelson rustled back into the phaeton, and taking a piece of money +from her purse, held it out to him. + +"That will amply repay you," she said. + +Sandy flushed to the roots of his close-cropped hair. A tip, +heretofore a gift of the gods, had suddenly become an insult. Angry, +impetuous words rushed to his lips, and he took a step forward. Then +he was aware of a sudden change in the girl, who had just stepped into +the phaeton. She shot a quick, indignant look at her aunt, then turned +around and smiled a good-by to him. + +He lifted his cap and said, "I thank ye." But it was not to Mrs. +Nelson, who still held the money as they drove out of the avenue. + +Sandy went wearily back to the house. He had made his first trial in +behalf of his lady fair, but his soul knew no elation. His beautiful +new armor had sustained irreparable injury, and his vanity had +received a mortal wound. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +AUNT MELVY AS A SOOTHSAYER + + +It was a crisp afternoon in late October. The road leading west from +Clayton ran the gantlet of fiery maples and sumac until it reached the +barren hillside below "Who'd 'a' Thought It." The little cabin clung +to the side of the steep slope like a bit of fungus to the trunk of a +tree. + +In the doorway sat three girls, one tall and dark, one plump and fair, +and the third straight and thin. They were anxiously awaiting the +revelation of the future as disclosed by Aunt Melvy's far-famed +tea-leaves. The prophetess kept them company while waiting for the +water to boil. + +"He sutenly is a peart boy," she was saying. "De jedge done start him +in plumb at de foot up at de 'cademy, an' dey tell me he's ketchin' up +right along." + +"Wasn't it g-grand in Judge Hollis to send him to school?" said +Annette. "Of course he's going to work for him b-between times. They +say even Mrs. Hollis is glad he is going to stay." + +"'Co'se she is," said Aunt Melvy; "dere nebber was nobody come it over +Miss Sue lak he done." + +"Father says he is very quick," ventured Martha Meech, a faint color +coming to her dull cheek at this unusual opportunity of descanting +upon such an absorbing subject. "Father told Judge Hollis he would +help him with his lessons, and that he thought it would be only a +little while before he was up with the other boys." + +"Dad says he's a d-dandy," cried Annette. "And isn't it grand he's +going to be put on the ball team and the glee club!" + +Ruth rose to break a branch laden with crimson maple-leaves. "Was he +ever here before?" she asked in puzzled tones. "I have seen him +somewhere, and I can't think where." + +"Well, I'd never f-forget him," said Annette. "He's got the jolliest +face I ever saw. M-Martha says he can jump that high fence b-back of +the Hollises' without touching it. I d-drove dad's buggy clear up over +the curbstone yesterday, so he would come to the r-rescue, and he +swung on to old B-Baldy's neck like he had been a race-horse." + +"But you don't know him," protested Ruth. "And, besides, he was--he +was a peddler." + +"I don't care if he was," said Annette. "And if I don't know him, it's +no sign I am not g-going to." + +Aunt Melvy chuckled as she rose to encourage the fire with a pair of +squeaking old bellows. + +Martha looked about the room curiously. "Can you really tell what's +going to happen?" she asked timidly. + +"Indeed she can," said Annette. "She told Jane Lewis that she was +g-going to have some g-good luck, and the v-very next week her aunt +died and left her a turquoise-ring!" + +"Yas, chile," said Aunt Melvy, bending over the fire to light her +pipe; "I been habin' divisions for gwine on five year. Dat's what made +me think I wuz gwine git religion; but hit ain't come yit--not yit. +I'm a mourner an' a seeker." Her pipe dropped unheeded, and she gazed +with fixed eyes out of the window. + +"Tell us about your visions," demanded Annette. + +"Well," said Aunt Melvy, "de fust I knowed about it wuz de lizards in +my legs. I could feel 'em jus' as plain as day, dese here little green +lizards a-runnin' round inside my legs. I tole de doctor 'bout hit, +Miss Nettie; but he said 't warn't nothin' but de fidgits. I knowed +better 'n he did dat time. Dat night I had a division, an' de dream +say, 'Put on yer purple mournin'-dress an' set wid yer feet in a +barrel ob b'ilin' water till de smoke comes down de chimbly.' An' so +I done, a-settin' up dere on dat chist o' drawers all night, wid my +purple mournin'-dress on an' my feet in de b'ilin' water, an' de +lizards run away so fur dat dey ain't even stopped yit." + +"Aunt Melvy, do you tell fortunes by palmistry?" asked Ruth. + +"Yas'm; I reckon dat's what you call hit. I tells by de tea-leaves. +Lor', Miss Rufe, you sutenly put me in min' o' yer grandmaw! She +kerried her haid up in de air jus' lak you do, an' she wuz jus' as +putty as you is, too. We libed in de ole plantation what's done burned +down now, an' I lubed my missus--I sutenly did. When my ole man fust +come here from de country I nebber seen sech a fool. He didn't know no +more 'bout courtin' dan nothin'; but I wuz better qualified. I jus' +tole ole miss how 't wuz, an' she fixed up de weddin'. I nebber will +fergit de day we walk ober de plantation an' say we wuz married. +George he had on a brand-new pair pants dat cost two hundred an' +sixty-four dollars in Confederate money." + +"Isn't the water b-boiling yet?" asked Annette, impatiently. + +"So 't is, so 't is," said Aunt Melvy, lifting the kettle from the +crane. She dropped a few tea-leaves in three china cups, and then with +great solemnity and occasional guttural ejaculations poured the water +over them. + +Before the last cup was filled, Annette, with a wry face, had drained +the contents of hers and held it out to Aunt Melvy. + +"There are my leaves. If they don't tell about a lover with b-blue +eyes and an Irish accent, I'll never b-believe them." + +Aunt Melvy bent over the cup, and her sides shook. "You gwine be a +farmer's wife," she said, chuckling at the girl's grimace. "You gwine +raise chickens an' chillun." + +"Ugh!" said Annette as the other girls laughed; "are his eyes b-blue?" + +Aunt Melvy pondered over the leaves. "Well, now, 'pears to me he's +sorter dark-complected an' fat, like Mr. Sid Gray," she said. + +"Never!" declared Annette. "I loathe Sid." + +"Tell my future!" cried Martha, pushing her cup forward eagerly. + +"Dey ain't none!" cried Aunt Melvy, aghast, as she saw the few broken +leaves in the bottom of the cup. "You done drinked up yer fortune. +Dat's de sign ob early death. I gwine fix you a good-luck bag; dey say +ef you carry it all de time, hit's a cross-sign ag'in' death." + +"But can't you tell me anything?" persisted Martha. + +"Dey ain't nothin' to tell," repeated Aunt Melvy, "'cep'n' to warn you +to carry dat good-luck bag all de time." + +"Now, mine," said Ruth, with an incredulous but curious smile. + +For several moments Aunt Melvy bent over the cup in deep +consideration, and then she rose and took it to the window, with +fearsome, anxious looks at Ruth meanwhile. Once or twice she made a +sign with her fingers, and frowned anxiously. + +"What is it, Aunt Melvy?" Ruth demanded. "Am I going to be an old +maid?" + +"'T ain't no time to joke, chile," whispered Aunt Melvy, all the +superstition of her race embodied in her trembling figure. "What I +see, I see. Hit's de galluses what I see in de bottom ob yer cup!" + +"Do you m-mean suspenders?" laughed Annette. + +Aunt Melvy did, not hear her; she was looking over the cup into space, +swaying and moaning. + +"To t'ink ob my ole missus' gran'chile bein' mixed up wif a gallus lak +dey hang de niggers on! But hit's dere, jus' as plain as day, de two +poles an' de cross-beam." + +Ruth laughed as she looked into the cup. + +"Is it for me?" + +"Don't know, honey; de signs don't p'int to no one person: but hit's +in yer life, an' de shadow rests ag'in' you." + +By this time Martha was at the door, urging the others to hurry. Her +face was pale and her eyes were troubled. Ruth saw her nervousness and +slipped her arm about her. "It's all in fun," she whispered. + +"Of course," said Annette. "You m-mustn't mind her foolishness. +Besides, I g-got the worst of it. I'd rather die young or be hanged, +any day, than to m-marry Sid Gray." + +Aunt Melvy followed them to the door, shaking her head. "I'se gwine +make you chillun some good-luck bags. De fust time de new moon holds +water I'se sholy gwine fix 'em. 'T ain't safe not to mind de signs; 't +ain't safe." + +And with muttered warnings she watched them until they were lost to +view behind the hill. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +TRANSITION + + +The change from the road to the school-room was not without many a +struggle on Sandy's part. The new life, the new customs, and the +strange language, were baffling. + +The day after the accident in the road, Mrs. Hollis had sent him to +inquire how old Mrs. Nelson was, and he had returned with the +astonishing report that she was sixty-one. + +"But you didn't ask her age?" cried Mrs. Hollis, horrified. + +Sandy looked perplexed. "I said what ye bid me," he declared. + +Everything he did, in fact, seemed to be wrong; and everything he +said, to bring a smile. He confided many a woe to Aunt Melvy as he +sat on the kitchen steps in the evenings. + +"Hit's de green rubbin' off," she assured him sympathetically. "De +same ones dat laugh at you now will be takin' off dey hats to you some +day." + +"Oh, it ain't the guyin' I mind," said Sandy; "it's me wooden head. +Them little shavers that can't see a hole in a ladder can beat me +figurin'." + +"You jus' keep on axin' questions," advised Aunt Melvy. "Dat's what I +always tole Rachael. Rachael's dat yaller gal up to Mrs. Nelson's. I +done raise her, an' she ain't a bit o'count. I use' ter say, 'You fool +nigger, how you ebber gwine learn nothin' effen you don't ax +questions?' An' she'd stick out her mouth an' say, 'Umph, umph; you +don't ketch me lettin' de white folks know how much sense I ain't +got.' Den she'd put on a white dress an' a white sunbonnet an' go +switchin' up de street, lookin' jus' lak a fly in a glass ob +buttermilk." + +"It's the mixed-up things that bother me," said Sandy. "Mr. Moseley +was telling of us to-day how ye lost a day out of the week when ye +went round the world one way, and gained a day when ye went round the +other." + +Aunt Melvy paused with the tea-towel in her hand. "Lost a day outen de +week? Where'd he say you lost it at?" + +Sandy shook his head in perplexity. + +"Dat's plumb foolishness," said Aunt Melvy, indignantly. "I'se +s'prised at Mr. Moseley, I sholy is. Dey sorter gits notions, dem +teachers does. When dey tells you stuff lak dat, honey, don't you pay +'em no mind." + +But Sandy did "pay 'em mind." He followed Aunt Melvy's advice about +asking questions, and wrestled with each new proposition until he +mastered it. It did not take him long, moreover, to distinguish the +difference between himself and those about him. The words and phrases +that had passed current on the street seemed to ring false here. He +watched the judge covertly and took notes. + +His progress at the academy was a singular succession of triumphs and +failures. His natural quickness, together with an enthusiastic +ambition to get on, enabled him soon to take his place among the boys +of his own age. But a superabundance of high spirits and an inordinate +love of fun caused many a dark entry on the debit side of his school +ledger. There were many times when he exasperated the judge to the +limit of endurance, for he was reckless and impulsive, charged to the +exploding-point with vitality, and ever and always the victim of his +last caprice; but when it came to the final issue, and the judge put a +question fairly before him, the boy was always on the side of right, +even though it proved him guilty. + +At first Mrs. Hollis had been strongly opposed to his remaining on the +farm, but she soon became silent on the subject. It was a heretofore +unknown luxury to have the outside work promptly and efficiently +attended to. He possessed "the easy grace that makes a joke of toil"; +and when he despatched his various chores and did even more than was +required of him, Mrs. Hollis capitulated. + +It was something more, however, than his ability and service that won +her. The affection of the world, which seemed to eddy around her, as a +rule, found an exception in Sandy. His big, exuberant nature made no +distinction: he swept over her, sharp edges and all; he teased her, +coaxed her, petted her, laughed at her, turned her tirades with a bit +of blarney, and in the end won her in spite of herself. + +"He's ketchin' on," reported Aunt Melvy, confidently. "I heared him +puttin' on airs in his talk. When dey stops talkin' nachel, den I +knows dey are learnin' somethin'." + + + + +CHAPTER X + +WATERLOO + + +It was not until three years had passed and Sandy had reached his +junior year that his real achievement was put to the test. + +After that harrowing experience in the Hollis driveway, he had seen +Ruth Nelson but twice. She had spent the winters at boarding-school, +and in the summers she traveled with her aunt. She was still the +divinity for whom he shaped his end, the compass that always brought +him back to the straight course. He looked upon her possible +recognition and friendship as a man looks upon his reward in heaven. +In the meantime he suffered himself to be consoled by less distant +joys. + +The greatest spur he had to study was Martha Meech. She thought he +was a genius; and while he found it a bit irksome to live up to his +reputation, he made an honest effort to deserve it. + +One spring afternoon the two were under the apple-trees, with their +books before them. The years that had lifted Sandy forward toward +vigor and strength and manhood had swept over Martha relentlessly, +beating out her frail strength, and leaving her weaker to combat each +incoming tide. Her straight, straw-colored hair lay smooth about her +delicate face, and in her eyes was the strained look of one who seeks +but is destined never to attain. + +"Let's go over the Latin once more," she was saying patiently, "just +to make sure you understand." + +"Devil a bit more!" cried Sandy, jumping up from where he lay in the +grass and tossing the book lightly from her hand; "it's the sin and +the shame to keep you poking in books, now the spring is here. +Martha, do you mind the sound of the wind in the tree-tops?" + +She nodded, and he went on: + +"Does it put strange words in your heart that you can't even think out +in your head? If I could be translating the wind and the river, I'd +never be minding the Latin again." + +Martha looked at him half timidly. + +"Sometimes, do you know, I almost think you are a poet, Sandy; you are +always thinking the things the poets write about." + +"Do you, now, true?" he asked seriously, dropping down on the grass +beside her. Then he laughed. "You'll be having me writing rhymes, now, +in a minute." + +"Why not?" she urged. + +"I must stick to my course," he said. "I'd never be a real one. They +work for the work's sake, and I work for the praise. If I win the +scholarship, it'll be because you want me to, Martha; if I come to be +a lawyer, it's because it's the wish of the judge's heart; and if I +win out in the end, it will be for the love of some one--some one who +cares more for that than for anything else in the world." + +She dropped her eyes, while he watched the flight of a song-bird as it +wheeled about overhead. Presently she opened an old portfolio and took +from it a little sketch. + +"I have been trying to get up courage to show it to you all week," she +said, with a deprecatory laugh. + +"It's the river," cried Sandy, "just at sundown, when the shadows are +slipping away from the bank! Martha, why didn't ye tell me? Are there +more?" + +He ransacked the portfolio, drawing out sketch after sketch and +exclaiming over each. They were crude little efforts, faulty in +drawing and in color; but the spirit was there, and Sandy had a vague +instinct for the essence of things. + +"I believe you're the real kind, Martha. They're crooked a bit, but +they've got the feel of the woods in 'em, all right. I can just hear +the water going over those stones." + +Martha's eyes glowed at the praise. For a year she had reached +forward blindly toward some outlet for her cramped, limited existence, +and suddenly a way seemed open toward the light. + +"I wanted to learn how before I showed you," she said. "I am never +going to show them to any one but you and mother and father." + +"But you must go somewhere to study," cried Sandy. "It's a great +artist you'll be some day." + +She shook her head. "It's not for me, Sandy. I'll always be like a +little beggar girl that peeps through the fence into a beautiful +garden. I know all the wonderful things are there, but I'll never get +to them." + +"But ye will," cried Sandy, hot with sympathy. "I'll be making money +some day, and I'll send ye to the finest master in the country; and +you will be getting well and strong, and we'll go--" + +Mr. Meech, shuffling up the walk toward them, interrupted. "Studying +for the examination, eh? That's right, my boy. The judge tells me +that you have a good chance to win the scholarship." + +"Did he, now?" said Sandy, with shameless pleasure; "and you, Mr. +Meech, do ye think the same?" + +"I certainly do," said Mr. Meech. "Anybody that can accomplish the +work you do at home, and hold your record at the academy, stands an +excellent chance." + +Sandy thought so, too, but he tried to be modest. "If it'll be in me, +it will come out," he said with suppressed triumph as he swung his +books across his shoulder and started home. + +Martha's eyes followed him wistfully, and she hoped for a backward +look before he turned in at the door. But he was absorbed in sailing a +broomstick across Aunt Melvy's pathway, causing her to drop her +basket and start after him in hot pursuit. + +That evening the judge glanced across the table with great +satisfaction at Sandy, who was apparently buried in his Vergil. The +boy, after all, was a student; he was justifying the money and time +that had been spent upon him; he was proving a credit to his +benefactor's judgment and to his knowledge of human nature. + +"Would ye mind telling me a word that rhymes with lance?" broke in +Sandy after an hour of absorbed concentration. + +"Pants," suggested the judge. But he woke up in the night to wonder +again what part of Vergil Sandy had been studying. + +"How about the scholarship?" he asked the next day of Mr. Moseley, the +principal of the academy. + +Mr. Moseley pursed his lips and considered the matter ponderously. He +regarded it as ill befitting an instructor of youth to dispose of any +subject in words of less than three syllables. + +"Your protege, Judge Hollis, is an ambiguous proposition. He possesses +invention and originality, but he is sadly lacking in sustained +concentration." + +"But if he studies," persisted the judge, "you think he may win it?" + +Mr. Moseley wrinkled his brows and looked as if he were solving a +problem in Euclid. "Probably," he admitted; "but there is a most +insidious enemy with which he has to contend." + +"An enemy?" repeated the judge, anxiously. + +"My dear sir," said Mr. Moseley, sinking his voice to husky solemnity, +"the boy is stung by the tarantula of athletics!" + +It was all too true. The Ambiguous Proposition had found, soon after +reaching Clayton, that base-ball was what he had been waiting for all +his life. It was what he had been born for, what he had crossed the +ocean for, and what he would gladly have died for. + +There could have been no surer proof of his growing power of +concentration than that he kept a firm grasp on his academy work +during these trying days. It was a hand-to-hand fight with the great +mass of knowledge that had been accumulating at such a cruel rate +during the years he had spent out of school. He was making gallant +progress when a catastrophe occurred. + +The great ball game of the season, which was to be played in Lexington +between the Clayton team and the Lexington nine, was set for June 2. +And June 2 was the day which cruel fate--masked as the board of +trustees--had set for the academy examinations. Sandy was the only +member of the team who attended the academy, and upon him alone rested +the full agony of renunciation. His disappointment was so utterly +crushing that it affected the whole family. + +"Couldn't they postpone the game?" asked the judge. + +"It was the second that was the only day the Lexingtons could play," +said Sandy, in black despair. "And to think of me sitting in the +bloomin' old school-room while Sid Gray loses the game in me place!" + +For a week before the great event he lived in retirement. The one +topic of conversation in town was the ball game, and he found the +strain too great to be borne. The team was to go to Lexington on the +noon train with a mighty company of loyal followers. Every boy and +girl who could meet the modest expenses was going, save the +unfortunate victims of the junior class at the academy. Annette Fenton +had even had a dress made in the Clayton colors. + +As Sandy went into town on the important day, his heart was like a +rock in his breast. There was glorious sunshine everywhere, and a cool +little undercurrent of breezes stirred every leaf into a tiny banner +of victory. Up in the square, Johnson's colored band was having a +final rehearsal, while on the court-house steps the team, glorious in +new uniforms, were excitedly discussing the plan of campaign. Little +boys shouted, and old boys left their stores to come out and give a +bit of advice or encouragement to the waiting warriors. Maidens in +crisp lawn dresses and flying ribbons fluttered about in a tremor of +anticipation. + +Sandy Kilday, with his cap pulled over his eyes, went up Back street. +If he could not make the devil get behind him, he at least could get +behind the devil. Without a moment's hesitation he would have given +ten years of sober middle-age life for that one glorious day of youth +on the Lexington diamond, with the victory to be fought for, and the +grand stand to be won. + +He tried not to keep step with the music--he even tried to think of +quadratic equations--as he marched heroically on to the academy. His +was the face of a Christian martyr relinquishing life for a good but +hopeless cause. + +Late that afternoon Judge Hollis left his office and walked around to +the academy. He had sympathized fully with Sandy, and wanted, if +possible, to find out the result of the examination before going home. +The report of the scholarship won would reconcile him to his +disappointment. + +At the academy gate he met Mr. Moseley, who greeted him with a queer +smile. They both asked the same question: + +"Where's Sandy?" + +As if in answer, there came a mighty shout from the street leading +down to the depot. Turning, they saw a cheering, hilarious crowd; +bright-flowered hats flashed among college caps, while shrill girlish +voices rang out with the manly ones. Carried high in the air on the +shoulders of a dozen boys, radiant with praise and success, sat the +delinquent Sandy, and the tumult below resolved itself into one mighty +cheer: + + "Kilday, Kilday! + Won the day. + Hooray!" + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +"THE LIGHT THAT LIES" + + +During the summer Sandy worked faithfully to make amends for his +failure to win the scholarship. He had meekly accepted the torrent of +abuse which Mrs. Hollis poured forth, and the open disapproval shown +by the Meeches; he had winced under Martha's unspoken reproaches, and +groaned over the judge's quiet disappointment. + +"You see, my boy," the judge said one day when they were alone, "I had +set my heart on taking you into the office after next year. I had +counted on the scholarship to put you through your last year at the +academy." + +"It was the fool I was," cried Sandy, in deep contrition, "but if +ye'll trust me the one time more, may I die in me traces if I ever +stir out of them!" + +So sincere was his desire to make amends that he asked to read law +with the judge in the evenings after his work was done. Nothing could +have pleased the judge more; he sat with his back to the lamp and his +feet on the window-sill, expounding polemics to his heart's desire. + +Sandy sat in the shadow and whittled. Sometimes he did not listen at +all, but when he did, it was with an intensity of attention, an utter +absorption in the subject, that carried him straight to the heart of +the matter. Meanwhile he was unconsciously receiving a life-imprint of +the old judge's native nobility. + +From the first summer Sandy had held a good position at the +post-office. His first earnings had gone to a round little surgeon on +board the steamship _America_. But since then his funds had run rather +low. What he did not lend he contributed, and the result was a chronic +state of bankruptcy. + +"You must be careful with your earnings," the judge warned. "It is +not easy to live within an income." + +"Easier within it than without it, sir," Sandy answered from deep +experience. + +After the Lexington episode Sandy had shunned Martha somewhat; when he +did go to see her, he found she was sick in bed. + +"She never was strong," said Mrs. Meech, sitting limp and disconsolate +on the porch. "Mr. Meech and I never thought to keep her this long. +The doctor says it's the beginning of the end. She's so patient it's +enough to break your heart." + +Sandy went without his dinner that day, and tramped to town and back, +in the glare of the noon sun, to get her a basket of fruit. Then he +wrote her a letter so full of affection and sympathy that it brought +the tears to his own eyes as he wrote. He took the basket with the +note and left them at her door, after which he promptly forgot all +about her. For his whole purpose in life these days, aside from +assisting the government in the distribution of mail and reading a +musty old volume of Blackstone, was learning to dance. + +In ten days was the opening of the county fair, and Sandy had received +an invitation to be present at the fair hop, which was the social +excitement of the season. It was to be his introduction into society, +and he was determined to acquit himself with credit. + +He assiduously practised the two-step in the back room of the +post-office when the other clerk was out for lunch; he tried elaborate +and ornate bows upon Aunt Melvy, who considered even the mildest "reel +chune" a direct communication from the devil. The moment the +post-office closed he hastened to Dr. Fenton's, where Annette was +taking him through a course of private lessons. + +Dr. Fenton's house was situated immediately upon the street. Opening +the door, one passed into a small square hall where the Confederate +flag hung above a life-size portrait of General Lee. On every side +were old muskets and rusty swords, large pictures of decisive +battles, and maps of the siege of Vicksburg and the battle of Bull +Run. In the midst of this warlike atmosphere sat the unreconstructed +little doctor, wearing his gray uniform and his gray felt hat, which +he removed only when he ate and slept. + +Here he ostensibly held office hours, but in reality he was doing +sentry duty. His real business in life was keeping up with Annette, +and his diversion was in the constant perusal of a slim sheet known as +"The Confederate Veteran." + +It was Sandy's privilege to pass the lines unchallenged. In fact, the +doctor's strict surveillance diminished, and he was occasionally +guilty of napping at the post when Sandy was with Annette. + +"Come in, come in," he said one day. "Just looking over the 'Veteran.' +Ever hear of Sam Davis? Greatest hero South ever knew! That's his +picture. Wasn't afraid of any damned Yankee that ever pulled a +trigger." + +"Was he a rebel?" asked the unfortunate Sandy. + +The doctor swelled with indignation. "He was a Confederate, sir! I +never knew a rebel." + +"It was the Confederates that wore the gray?" asked Sandy, trying to +cover his blunder. + +"They did," said the doctor. "I put it on at nineteen, and I'll be +buried in it. Yes, sir; and my hat. Wouldn't wear blue for a farm. +Hate the sight of it so, that I might shoot myself by mistake. Ever +look over these maps? This was the battle of--" + +A door opened and a light head was thrust out. + +"Now, d-dad, you hush this minute! You've told him that over and over. +Sandy's my company. Come in here, Sandy." + +A few moments later there was a moving of chairs, and Annette's voice +was counting, "One, two, three; one, two, three," while Sandy went +through violent contortions in his efforts to waltz. He had his +tongue firmly between his teeth and his eyes fixed on vacancy as he +revolved in furniture--destroying circles about the small parlor. + +"That isn't right," cried Annette. "You've lost the time. You d-dance +with the chair, Sandy, and I'll p-play the p-piano." + +"No, you don't!" he cried. "I'll dance with you and put the chair at +the piano, but I'll dance with no chair." + +Annette sank, laughing and exhausted, upon the sofa and looked up at +him hopelessly. Her hair had tumbled down, making her look more like a +child than ever. + +"You are so b-big," she said; "and you've got so m-many feet!" + +"The more of me to love ye." + +"I wonder if you d-do?" She put her chin on her palms, looking at him +sidewise. + +"Don't ye do that again!" he cried. "Haven't I passed ye the warning +never to look at me when you fix your mouth like that?" + +She tried to call him a goose, though she knew that _g_'s were fatal. + +A moment later she sat at one end of the sofa in pretended dudgeon, +while Sandy tried to make his peace from the other. + +"May the lightning strike me dead if I ever do it again without the +asking! I'll be good now--honest to goodness, Nettie. I'll shut me +eyes when you take the hurdles, and be blind to temptation. Won't ye +be putting me on about the hop now, and what I must do?" + +Annette counted her fraternity pins and tried to look severe. She used +them in lieu of scalps, and they encircled her neck, fastened her +belt, and on state occasions even adorned her shoe-buckles. + +"Well," she at last said, "to b-begin with, you must be nice to +everyb-body. You mustn't sit out more than one d-dance with one +g-girl, and you must b-break in on every dance I'm not sitting out." + +"Break in? Sit out?" repeated Sandy, realizing that the intricacies +of society are manifold. + +"Of course," said his mentor. "Whenever you see the g-girl you like +dancing with any one else, you just p-put your hand on the man's +shoulder, and then she d-dances with you." + +"And will they all stop for me?" cried Sandy, not understanding at all +why he should have the preference. + +"Surely," said Annette. "And sitting out is when you like a girl so +m-much that you would rather take her away to some quiet little corner +and talk to her than to d-dance with her." + +"That'll never be me," cried Sandy--"not while the band plays." + +"Shall we try it again?" she asked; and with much scoffing and +scolding on her part, and eloquent apologies and violent exertion on +his, they struggled onward toward success. + +In the midst of the lesson there was a low whistle at the side +window. Annette dropped Sandy's hands and put her finger to her lips. + +"It's Carter," she whispered. "D-dad doesn't allow him to come here." + +"Little's the wonder," grumbled Sandy. + +Annette's eyes were sparkling at the prospect of forbidden fruit. She +tiptoed to the window and opened the shutter a few inches. + +At the opening Carter's face appeared. It was a pale, delicate face, +over-sensitive, over-refined, with the stamp of weakness on every +feature. His restless, nervous eyes were slightly bloodshot, and there +was a constant twitching about his lips. But as he pushed back the +shutter and leaned carelessly against the sill, there was an easy +grace in his figure and a devil-may-care light in his eyes that would +have stirred the heart of a maiden less susceptible than the one who +smiled upon him from between the muslin curtains. + +He laughed lightly as he caught at a flying lock of her hair. + +"You little coward! Why didn't you meet me?" + +She frowned significantly and made warning gestures toward the +interior of the room. + +At the far window, standing with his back to them, was Mr. Sandy +Kilday. He was engaged in a fierce encounter with an unnamed monster +whose eyes were green. During his pauses for breath he composed a few +comprehensive and scathing remarks which he intended to bestow upon +Miss Fenton at his earliest convenience. Fickleness was a thing not to +be tolerated. She had confessed her preference for him over all +others; she must and should prove it. Just when his indignation had +reached the exploding-point, he heard his name called. + +"Sandy," cried Annette, "what do you think? Ruth is coming home! +Carter is on his way to the d-depot to meet her now. She's been gone +nearly a year. I never was so crazy to see anyb-body in all my life." + +Sandy wheeled about. "Which depot?" he cried excitedly; and without +apologies or farewell he dashed out of the house and down the street. + +When the Pullman train came into the Clayton station, he was leaning +against a truck in a pose of studied indifference. Out of the tail of +his eye he watched the passengers alight. + +There were the usual fat women and thin men, tired women with +children, and old women with baskets, but no sign of a small girl with +curls hanging down her back and dresses to her shoe-tops. + +Suddenly he caught his breath. Standing in the car door, like a saint +in a niche, was a radiant figure in a blue traveling-suit, with a bit +of blue veil floating airily from her hat brim. She was not the little +girl he was looking for, but he transferred his devotion at a bound; +for long skirts and tucked-up curls rendered her tenfold more +worshipful than before. + +He watched her descend from her pedestal, bestow an affectionate kiss +upon her brother, then look eagerly around for other familiar faces. +In one heart-suspending instant her eyes met his, she hesitated in +confusion, then blushed and bowed. + +Sandy reeled home in utter intoxication of spirit. Even the town pump +wore a halo of glorified rosy mist. + +At the gate he met Mrs. Hollis returning from a funeral. With a sudden +descent from his ethereal mood he pounced upon her and, in spite of +violent protestations, danced her madly down the walk and deposited +her breathless upon the milk-bench. + +"He's getting worse all the time," she complained to Aunt Melvy, who +had watched the performance with great glee. + +"Yas,'m," said Aunt Melvy, with a fond look at his retreating figure. +"He's jus' like a' Irish potato: when he ain't powerful cold, he's +powerful hot." + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +ANTICIPATION + + +The day before the fair Sandy employed a substitute at the +post-office, in order to give the entire day to preparation for the +festivities to come. + +Early in the morning he went to town, where, after much consultation +and many changes of mind, he purchased a suit of clothes. Then he +rented the town dress-suit, to the chagrin of three other boys who had +each counted upon it for the coming hop. + +With the precious burden under his arm, Sandy hastened home. He spread +the two coats on the bed, placing a white shirt inside each, and a +necktie about each collar. Then he stood back and admired. + +"It's meself I can see in them both this minute!" he exclaimed with +delight. + +His shoes were polished until they were resplendent, but they lost +much of their glory during subsequent practising of steps before the +mirror. He even brushed and cleaned his old clothes, for he foresaw +the pain of laying aside the raiment of Solomon for dingy every-day +garments. + +Toward noon he went down-stairs to continue his zealous efforts in the +kitchen. This met with Aunt Melvy's instant disapproval. + +"For mercy sake, git out ob my way!" she cried, as she squeezed past +the ironing-board to get to the stove. "I'll press yer pants, ef +you'll jus' take yourself outen de kitchen. Be sure don't burn 'em? +Look a-heah, chile; I was pressin' pants 'fore yer paw was wearin' +'em!" + +Aunt Melvy's temper was a thing not to be trifled with when a +"protracted meeting" was in session. For years she had been the black +sheep in the spiritual fold. Her earnest desire to get religion and +the untiring efforts of the exhorters had alike proved futile. Year +after year she sat on the mourners' bench, seeking the light and +failing each time to "come th'u'." + +This discouraging condition of affairs sorely afflicted her, and +produced a kind of equinoctial agitation in the Hollis kitchen. + +Sandy went on into the dining-room, but he found no welcome there. +Mrs. Hollis was submerged in pastry. The county fair was her one +dissipation, and her highest ambition was to take premiums. Every year +she sent forth battalions of cakes, pies, sweet pickles, beaten +biscuit, crocheted doilies, and crazy-quilts to capture the blue +ribbon. + +"Don't put the window up!" she warned Sandy. "I know it's stifling, +but I can't have the dust coming in. Why don't you go on in the +house?" + +Mrs. Hollis always spoke of the kitchen and dining-room as if they +were not a part of the house. + +"Can't ye tell me something that's good for the sunburn?" asked +Sandy, anxiously. "It's a dressed-up shooting-cracker I'll be +resembling the morrow, in spite of me fine clothes." + +"Buttermilk and lemon-juice," recommended Mrs. Hollis, as she placed +the last marshmallow on the roof of a four-story cake. + +Sandy would have endured any discomfort that day in order to add one +charm to his personal appearance. He used so many lemons there were +none left for the judge's lemonade when he came home for dinner. + +"Just home from the post-office?" he asked when he saw Sandy enter the +dining-room with his hat on. + +"Jimmy Reed's doing my work to-day," Sandy said apologetically. "And +if you please, sir, I'll be keeping my hat on. I have just washed my +hair, and I want it to dry straight." + +The judge looked at the suspicious turn of the thick locks around the +brim of the stiff hat and smiled. + +"Vanitas vanitatum, et omnia vanitas," he quoted. "How many pages of +Blackstone to-day?" + +Sandy made a wry face and winked at Mrs. Hollis, but she betrayed him. + +"He has been primping since sun-up," she said. "Anybody would think he +was going to get married." + +"Sweet good luck if I was!" cried Sandy, gaily. + +The judge put down his fork and laid his hand on Sandy's arm. "You +mustn't neglect the learning, Sandy. You've made fine progress, and +I'm proud of you. You've worked your way this far; I'll help you to +the top if you'll keep a steady head." + +"That I'll do," cried Sandy, grasping his hand. "It's old Moseley's +promise I have for steady work at the academy. If I can't climb the +ladder, with you at one end and success at the other, then I'm not +much of a chicken--I mean I'm not much." + +"Well, you better begin by leaving the girls alone," said Mrs. Hollis +as she moved the sugar out of his reach. "Just let one drive by the +gate, and we don't have any peace until you know who it is." + +"By the way," said the judge, as he helped himself to a corn-dodger +and two kinds of preserves, "I'm sorry to see the friendship that's +sprung up between Annette Fenton and young Nelson. I don't know what +the doctor's thinking about to let it go on. Nelson is hitting a +pretty lively pace for a youngster. He'll never live to reap his wild +oats, though. He came into the world with consumption, and I don't +think he will be long getting out of it. He's always getting into +difficulty. I have had to fine him twice in the past month for +gambling. Do you see anything of him, Sandy?" + +"No," said Sandy, biting his lip. His pride had suffered more than +once at Carter's condescension. + +"Martha Meech must be worse," said Mrs. Hollis. "The up-stairs blinds +have been closed all day." + +Sandy pushed back the apple-dumpling which Aunt Melvy had made at his +special request. + +"Perhaps I can be helping them," he said as he rose from the table. + +When he came back he sat for a long time with his head on his hand. + +"Is she much worse?" asked Mrs. Hollis. + +"Yes," said Sandy; "and it's little that I can do, though she's +coughing her life away. It's a shame--and a shame!" he cried in hot +rebellion. + +All his vanity of the morning was dispelled by the tragedy taking +place next door. He paced back and forth between the two houses, +begging to be allowed to help, and proposing all sorts of impossible +things. + +When inaction became intolerable, he plunged into his law books, at +first not comprehending a line, but gradually becoming more and more +interested, until at last the whole universe seemed to revolve about a +case that was decided in a previous century. + +When he rose it was almost dusk, and he came back to the present +world with a start. His first thought was of Ruth and the rapturous +prospect of seeing her on the morrow; a swift doubt followed as to +whether a white tie or a black one was proper; then a sudden fear that +he had forgotten how to dance. He jumped to his feet, took a couple of +steps--when he remembered Martha. + +The house seemed suddenly quiet and lonesome. He went from the +sitting-room to the kitchen, but neither Mrs. Hollis nor Aunt Melvy +was to be found. Returning through the front hall, he opened the door +to the parlor. + +The sight that met him was somewhat gruesome. Everything was carefully +wrapped in newspapers. Pictures enveloped in newspapers hung on the +walls, newspaper chairs stood primly around a newspaper table. In the +dim twilight it looked like the very ghost of a room. + +Sandy threw open the window, and going over to the newspaper piano, +untied the wrappings. He softly touched the keys and began to sing in +an undertone. Old Irish love-songs, asleep in his heart since they +were first dropped there by the merry mother lips, stirred and awoke. +The accompaniment limped along lamely enough; but the singer, with hat +over his eyes and lemon-juice on his nose, sang on as only a poet and +lover can. His rich, full voice lingered on the soft Celtic syllables, +dwelt tenderly on the diminutive endearments, while his heart, +overcharged with sorrow and joy and romance and dreams, spilled over +in an ecstasy of song. + +Next door, in an upper bedroom, a tired soul paused in its final +flight. Martha Meech, stretching forth her thin arms in the twilight, +listened as one might listen to the strains of an angel choir. + +"It's Sandy," she said, and the color came to her cheeks, the light to +her eyes. For, like Sandy, she had youth and she had love, and life +itself could give no more. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +THE COUNTY FAIR + + +The big amphitheater at the fair grounds was filled as completely and +evenly as a new paper of pins. Through the air floated that sweetest +of all music to the childish ear--the unceasing wail of expiring +balloons; and childish souls were held together in one sticky ecstasy +of molasses candy and pop-corn balls. + +Behind the highest row of seats was a promenade, and in front of the +lowest was another. Around these circled a procession which, though +constantly varying, held certain recurring figures like the charging +steeds on a merry-go-round. There was Dr. Fenton, in his tight +Confederate suit; he had been circling in that same procession at +every fair for twenty years. There was the judge, lank of limb and +loose of joint, who stopped to shake hands with all the strangers and +invite them to take dinner in his booth, where Mrs. Hollis reveled in +a riot of pastry. A little behind him strutted Mr. Moseley, sending +search-lights of scrutiny over the crowd in order to discover the +academy boys who might be wasting their time upon unlettered +femininity. + +At one side of the amphitheater, raised to a place of honor, was the +courting-box. Here the aristocratic youth of the country-side met to +measure hearts, laugh at the rustics, and enjoy the races. + +In previous years Sandy had watched the courting-box from below, but +this year he was in the center of it. Jests and greetings from the +boys, and cordial glances from maidens both known and unknown, bade +him welcome. But, in spite of his reception, and in spite of his +irreproachable toilet, he was not having a good time. With hands in +pockets and a scowl on his face, he stared gloomily over the crowd. +Twice a kernel of pop-corn struck his ear, but he did not turn. + +Above him, Annette Fenton was fathoms deep in a flirtation with Carter +Nelson; while below him, Ruth, in the daintiest of gowns and the +largest of hats, was wasting her sweetness on the desert countenance +of Sid Gray. + +Sandy refused to seek consolation elsewhere; he sat like a Spartan +hero, and calmly watched his heart being consumed in the flames. + +This hour, for which he had been living, this longed-for opportunity +of being near Ruth and possibly of speaking to her, was slipping away, +and she did not even know he was there. + +He became fiercely critical of Sid Gray. He rejoiced in his stoutness +and took grim pleasure in the fact that his necktie had slipped up at +the back. He looked at his hand as it rested on the back of the seat; +it was plump and white. Sandy held out his own broad, muscular palm, +hardened and roughened by work. Then he put it in his pocket again and +sighed. + +The afternoon wore gaily on. Louder grew the chorus of balloons and +stickier grew the pop-corn balls. The courting-box was humming with +laughter and jest. The Spartan hero began to rebel. Why should he +allow himself to be tortured thus when there might be a way of escape? +He recklessly resolved to put his fate to the test. Rising abruptly, +he went down to the promenade and passed slowly along the +courting-box, scanning the occupants as if in search of some one. It +was on his fourth round that she saw him, and the electric shock +almost lost him his opportunity. He looked twice to make sure she had +spoken; then, with a bit of his heart in his throat and the rest in +his eyes, he went up the steps and awkwardly held out his hand. + +The world made several convulsive circuits in its orbit and the bass +drum performed a solo inside his head during the moment that +followed. When the tumult subsided he found a pair of bright brown +eyes smiling up at him and a small hand clasped in his. + +This idyllic condition was interrupted by a disturbance on the +promenade, which caused them both to look in that direction. Some one +was pushing roughly through the crowd. + +"Hi, there, Kilday! Sandy Kilday!" + +A heavy-set fellow was making his way noisily toward them. His suit of +broad checks, his tan shoes, and his large diamond stud were +strangers, but his little close-set eyes, protruding teeth, and bushy +hair were hatefully familiar. + +Sandy started forward, and those nearest laughed when the stranger +looked at him and said: + +"My guns! Git on to his togs! Ain't he a duke!" + +Sandy got Ricks out of the firing-line, around the corner of the +courting-box. His face was crimson with mortification, but it never +occurred to him to be angry. + +"What brought you back?" he asked huskily. + +"Hosses." + +"Are you going to drive this afternoon?" + +"Yep. One of young Nelson's colts in the last ring. Say," he added, +"he's game, all right. Me and him have done biz before. Know him?" + +"Carter Nelson? Oh, yes; I know him," said Sandy, impatient to be rid +of his companion. + +"Me and him are a winnin' couple," said Ricks. "We plays the races +straight along. He puts up the dough, and I puts up the tips. Say, +he's one of these here tony toughs; he won't let on he knows me when +he's puttin' on dog. What about you, Sandy? Makin' good these days?" + +"I guess so," said Sandy, indifferently. + +"You ain't goin' to school yet?" + +"That I am," said Sandy; "and next year, too, if the money holds out." + +"Golly gosh!" said Ricks, incredulously. "Well, I got to be hikin' +back. The next is my entry. I'll look you up after while. So-long!" + +He shambled off, and Sandy watched his broad-checked back until it was +lost in the crowd. + +That Ricks should have turned up at that critical moment seemed a +wilful prank on the part of fate. Sandy bit his lip and raged +inwardly. He had a wild impulse to rush back to Ruth, seize her hand, +and begin where he had left off. He might have done it, too, had not +the promenade happened to land Dr. Fenton before him at that moment. + +The doctor was behaving in a most extraordinary and unmilitary way. He +had stepped out of the ranks, and was performing strange manoeuvers +about a knothole that looked into the courting-box. When he saw Sandy +he opened fire. + +"Look at her! Look at her!" he whispered. "Whenever I pass she talks +to Jimmy Reed on this side; but the moment she thinks I'm not looking, +sir, she talks to Nelson on the other! Kilday," he went on, shaking +his finger impressively, "that little girl is as slick as--a blame +Yankee! But she'll not outwit me. I'm going right up there and take +her home." + +Sandy laughingly held his arm. It was not the first time the doctor +had confided in him. "No, no, doctor," he said; "I'll be the watch-dog +for ye. Let me go and stay with Annette, and if Carter Nelson gets a +word in her ear, it'll be because I've forgotten how to talk." + +"Will you?" asked the doctor, anxiously. "Nelson's a drunkard. I'd +rather see my little girl dead than married to him. But she's wilful, +Kilday; when she was just a baby she'd sit with her little pink toes +curled up for an hour to keep me from putting on her shoes when she +wanted to go barefoot! She's a fighter," he added, with a gruff +chuckle that ended in a sigh, "but she's all I've got." + +Sandy gripped him by the hand, then turned the corner into the +courting-box. Instantly his eager eyes sought Ruth, but she did not +look up as he passed. + +He unceremoniously took his seat beside Annette, to the indignation of +little Jimmy Reed. It was hard to accept Carter's patronizing +tolerance, but a certain curve to his eyebrows and the turn of his +head served as perpetual reminders of Ruth. + +Annette greeted Sandy effusively. She had found Jimmy entirely too +limber a foil to use with any degree of skill, and she knew from past +experience that Sandy and Carter were much better matched. If Sid Gray +had been there also, she would have been quite happy. In Annette's +estimation it was all a mistake about love being a game for two. + +"Who was your stylish friend?" she asked Sandy. + +"Ricks Wilson," said Sandy, shortly. + +Carter smiled condescendingly. "Your old business partner, I believe?" + +"Before he was yours," said Sandy. + +This was not at all to Annette's taste. They were not even thinking +about her. + +"How m-many dances do you want for to-night?" she asked Sandy. + +"The first four." + +She wrote them on the corner of her fan. "Yes?" + +"The last four." + +"Yes?" + +"And the four in between. What's that on your fan?" + +"Nothing." + +"But it is. Let me see." + +"Will you look at it easy and not tell?" she whispered, taking +advantage of Carter's sudden interest in the judges' stand. + +"Sure and I will. Just a peep. Come!" + +She opened the fan half-way, and disclosed a tiny picture of himself +sewed on one of the slats. + +"And it's meself that you care for, Annette!" he whispered. "I knew +it, you rascal, you rogue!" + +"Let g-go my hand," she whispered, half laughing, half scolding. +"Look, Carter, what I have on my fan!" and, to Sandy's chagrin, she +opened the fan on the reverse side and disclosed a picture of Nelson. + +But Carter had neither eyes nor ears for her now. His whole attention +was centered on the ring, where the most important event of the day +was about to take place. + +It was a trial of two-year-olds for speed and durability. There were +four entries--two bays, a sorrel, and Carter's own little thoroughbred +"Nettie." He watched her as she pranced around the ring under Ricks's +skilful handling; she had nothing to fear from the bays, but the +sorrel was a close competitor. + +"Oh, this is your race, isn't it?" cried Annette as the band struck up +"Dixie." "Where's my namesake? The pretty one just c-coming, with the +ugly driver? Why, he's Sandy's friend, isn't he?" + +Sandy winced under her teasing, but he held his peace. + +The first heat Nettie won; the second, the sorrel; the third brought +the grand stand to its feet. Even the revolving procession halted +breathless. + +"Now they're off!" cried Annette, excitedly. "Mercy, how they g-go! +Nettie is a little ahead; look, Sandy! She's gaining! No; the sorrel's +ahead. Carter, your driver is g-going too close! He's g-going to smash +in--Oh, look!" + +There was a crash of wheels and a great commotion. Several women +screamed, and a number of men rushed into the ring. When Sandy got +there, the greater crowd was not around the sorrel's driver, who lay +in a heap against the railing with a broken leg and a bruised head; it +was around Ricks Wilson in angry protest and indignation. + +The most vehement of them all was Judge Hollis,--the big, easy-going +judge,--whose passion, once roused, was a thing to be reckoned with. + +"It was a dastardly piece of cowardice," he cried. "You all saw what +he did! Call the sheriff, there! I intend to prosecute him to the full +extent of the law." + +Ricks, with snapping eyes and snarling mouth, glanced anxiously +around at the angry faces. He was looking for Carter Nelson, but +Carter had discreetly departed. It was Sandy whom he spied, and +instantly called: "Kilday, you'll see me through this mess? You know +it wasn't none of my fault." + +Sandy pushed his way to the judge's side. He had never hated the sight +of Ricks so much as at that moment. + +"It's Ricks Wilson," he whispered to the judge--"the boy I used to +peddle with. Don't be sending him to jail, sir. I'll--I'll go his bail +if you'll be letting him go." + +"Indeed you won't!" thundered the judge. "You to take money you've +saved for your education to help this scoundrel, this rascal, this +half murderer!" + +The crowd shouted its approval as it opened for the sheriff. Ricks was +not the kind to make it easy for his captors, and a lively skirmish +ensued. + +As he was led away he turned to the crowd back of him and shook his +fist in the judge's face. + +"You done this," he cried. "I'll git even with you, if I go to hell +fer it!" + +The judge laughed contemptuously, but Sandy watched Ricks depart with +troubled eyes. He knew that he meant what he said. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +A COUNCIL OF WAR + + +While the frivolous-minded of Clayton were bent upon the festivities +of fair week, it must not be imagined that the grave and thoughtful +contingent, which acts as ballast in every community, was idle. + +Mr. Moseley was a self-constituted leader in a crusade against +dancing. At his earnest suggestion, every minister in town agreed to +preach upon the subject at prayer-meeting the Wednesday evening of the +hop. + +They held a preliminary meeting before services in the study of the +Hard-Shell Baptist Church. Mr. Moseley occupied the chair, a Jove of +righteousness dispensing thunderbolts of indignation to his +satellites. A fringe of scant hair retreated respectfully from the +unadorned dome which crowned his personal edifice. His manner was most +serious and his every utterance freighted with importance. + +Beside him sat his rival in municipal authority, the Methodist +preacher. He had a short upper lip and a square lower jaw, and a way +of glaring out of his convex glasses that gave a comical imitation of +a bullfrog in debate. This was the first occasion in the history of +the town when he and Mr. Moseley had met in friendly concord. For the +last few days the united war upon a common enemy had knitted their +souls in a bond of brotherly affection. + +When the half-dozen preachers had assembled, Mr. Moseley rose with +dignity. "My dear brethren," he began impressively, "the occasion is +one which permits of no trifling. The dancing evil is one which has +menaced our community for generations--a viper to be seized and +throttled with a firm hand. The waltz, the--the Highland fling, +the--the--" + +"German?" suggested some one faintly. + +"Yes, the german--are all invasions of the Evil One. The crowded +rooms, the unholy excitement, are degenerating and debasing. I am glad +to report one young soul who has turned from temptation and told me +only to-day of his intention of refraining from partaking in the +unrighteous amusement of this evening. That, brethren, was the nephew +of my pastor." + +The little Presbyterian preacher, thus thrust into the light cast from +the halo of his regenerate nephew, stirred uneasily. He was +contemplating the expediency of his youthful kinsman in making the +lack of a dress-suit serve as a means of lightening his coming +examinations at the academy. + +Mr. Moseley, now fully launched upon a flood of eloquence, was just +concluding a brilliant argument. "Look at the round dance!" he cried. +"Who can behold and not shudder?" + +Mr. Meech, who had not beheld and therefore could not shudder, +ventured a timid inquiry: + +"Mr. Moseley, just what is a round dance?" + +Mr. Moseley pushed back his chair and wheeled the table nearer the +window. "Will you just step forward, Mr. Meech?" + +With difficulty Mr. Meech extricated himself from the corner to which +the pressure of so many guests had relegated him. He slipped +apologetically to the front and took his stand beneath the shadow of +Mr. Moseley's presence. Prayer-meeting being but a semi-official +occasion, he wore his second-best coat, and it had followed the +shrinking habit established by its predecessors. + +"Now," commanded Mr. Moseley, "place your hand upon my shoulder." + +Mr. Meech did so with self-conscious gravity and serious apprehensions +as to the revelations to follow. + +"Now," continued Mr. Moseley, "I place my arm about your waist--thus." + +"Surely not," objected Mr. Meech, in embarrassment. + +But Mr. Moseley was relentless. "I assure you it is true. And the +other hand--" He stopped in grave deliberation. The Methodist brother, +who had been growing more and more overcharged with suppressed +knowledge, could contain himself no longer. + +"That's not right at all!" he burst forth irritably. "You don't hook +your arm around like that! You hold the left arm out and saw it up and +down--like this." + +He snatched the bewildered Mr. Meech from Mr. Moseley's embrace, and +humming a waltz, stepped briskly about the limited space, to the +consternation of the onlookers, who hastened to tuck their feet under +their chairs. + +Mr. Meech, looking as if he were being backed into eternity, stumbled +on the rug and clutched violently at the table-cover. In his downfall +he carried his instructor with him, and a deluge of tracts from the +table above followed. + +In the midst of the confusion there was a sound from the church next +door. Mr. Meech sat up among the debris and listened. It was the +opening hymn for prayer-meeting. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +HELL AND HEAVEN + + +The events of the afternoon, stirring as they had been, were soon +dismissed from Sandy's mind. The approaching hop possessed right of +way over every other thought. + +By the combined assistance of Mrs. Hollis and Aunt Melvy, he had been +ready at half-past seven. The dance did not begin until nine; but he +was to take Annette, and the doctor, whose habits were as fixed as the +numbers on a clock, had insisted that she should attend prayer-meeting +as usual before the dance. + +In the little Hard-Shell Baptist Church the congregation had assembled +and services had begun before Mr. Meech arrived. He appeared +singularly flushed and breathless, and caused some confusion by +giving out the hymn which had just been sung. It was not until he +became stirred by the power of his theme that he gained composure. + +In the front seat Dr. Fenton drowsed through the discourse. Next to +him, her party dress and slipper-bag concealed by a rain-coat, sat +Annette, hot and rebellious, and in anything but a prayerful frame of +mind. Beside her sat Sandy, rigid with elegance, his eyes riveted on +the preacher, but his thoughts on his feet. For, stationary though he +was, he was really giving himself the benefit of a final rehearsal, +and mentally performing steps of intricate and marvelous variety. + +"Stop moving your feet!" whispered Annette. "You'll step on my dress." + +"Is it the mazurka that's got the hiccoughs in the middle?" asked +Sandy, anxiously. + +Mr. Meech paused and looked at them over his spectacles in plaintive +reproach. + +Then he wandered on into sixthlies and seventhlies of increasing +length. Before the final amen had died upon the air, Annette and Sandy +had escaped to their reward. + +The hop was given in the town hall, a large, dreary-looking room with +a raised platform at one end, where Johnson's band introduced +instruments and notes that had never met before. + +To Sandy it was a hall of Olympus, where filmy-robed goddesses moved +to the music of the spheres. + +"Isn't the floor g-grand?" cried Annette, with a little run and a +slide. "I could just d-die dancing." + +"What may the chalk line be for?" asked Sandy. + +"That's to keep the stags b-back." + +"The stags?" His spirits fell before this new complication. + +"Yes; the boys without partners, you know. They have to stay b-back of +the chalk line and b-break in from there. You'll catch on right away. +There's your d-dressing-room over there. Don't bother about my card; +it's been filled a week. Is there anyb-body you want to dance with +especially?" + +Sandy's eyes answered for him. They were held by a vision in the +center of the room, and he was blinded to everything else. + +Half surrounded by a little group stood Ruth Nelson, red-lipped, +bright-eyed, eager, her slender white-clad figure on tiptoe with +buoyant expectancy. The crimson rose caught in her hair kept impatient +time to the tap of her restless high-heeled slipper, and she swayed +and sang with the music in a way to set the sea-waves dancing. + +It was small matter to Sandy that the lace on her dress had belonged +to her great-grandmother, or that the pearls about her round white +throat had been worn by an ancestor who was lady in waiting to a queen +of France. He only knew she meant everything beautiful in the world to +him,--music and springtime and dawn,--and that when she smiled it was +sunlight in his heart. + +"I don't think you can g-get a dance there," said Annette, following +his gaze. "She is always engaged ahead. But I'll find out, if you +w-want me to." + +"Would you, now?" cried Sandy, fervently pressing her hand. Then he +stopped short. "Annette," he said wistfully, "do you think she'll be +caring to dance with a boy like me?" + +"Of course she will, if you k-keep off her toes and don't forget to +count the time. Hurry and g-get off your things; I want you to try it +before the crowd comes. There are only a few couples for you to bump +into now, and there will be a hundred after a while." + +O the fine rapture of that first moment when Sandy found he could +dance! Annette knocked away his remaining doubts and fears and boldly +launched him into the merry whirl. The first rush was breathless, +carrying all before it; but after a moment's awful uncertainty he +settled into the step and glided away over the shining floor, +counting his knots to be sure, but sailing triumphantly forward +behind the flutter of Annette's pink ribbons. + +He was introduced right and left, and he asked every girl he met to +dance. It made little difference who she happened to be, for in +imagination she was always the same. Annette had secured for him the +last dance with Ruth, and he intended to practise every moment until +that magic hour should arrive. + +But youth reckons not with circumstance. Just when all sails were set +and he was nearing perfection, he met with a disaster which promptly +relegated him to the dry-dock. His partner did not dance! + +When he looked at her, he found that she was tall and thin and +vivacious, and he felt that she must have been going to hops for a +very long time. + +"I hate dancing, don't you?" she said. "Let's go over there, out of +the crowd, and have a nice long talk." + +Sandy glanced at the place indicated. It seemed a long way from base. + +"Wouldn't you like to stand here and watch them?" he floundered +helplessly. + +"Oh, dear, no; it's too crowded. Besides," she added playfully, "I +have heard _so_ much about you and your awfully romantic life. I just +want to know all about it." + +As a trout, one moment in mid-stream swimming and frolicking with the +best, finds himself suddenly snatched out upon the bank, gasping and +helpless, so Sandy found himself high and dry against the wall, with +the insistent voice of his captor droning in his ears. + +She had evidently been wound and set, and Sandy had unwittingly +started the pendulum. + +"Have you ever been to Chicago, Mr. Kilday? No? It is such a dear +place; I simply adore it. I'm on my way home from there now. All my +men friends begged me to stay; they sent me so many flowers I had to +keep them in the bath-tub. Wasn't it darling of them? I just love +men. How long have you been in Clayton, Mr. Kilday?" + +He tried to answer coherently, but his thoughts were in eager pursuit +of a red rose that flashed in and out among the dancers. + +"And you really came over from England by yourself when you were just +a small boy? Weren't you clever! But I know the captain and all of +them made a great pet of you. Then you made a walking tour through the +States; I heard all about it. It was just too romantic for any use. I +love adventure. My two best friends are at the theological seminary. +One's going to India,--he's a blond,--and one to Africa. Just between +us, I am going with one of them, but I can't for the life of me make +up my mind which. I don't know why I am telling you all these things, +Mr. Kilday, except that you are so sweet and sympathetic. You +understand, don't you?" + +He assured her that he did with more vehemence than was necessary, for +he did not want her to suspect that he had not heard what she said. + +"I knew you did. I knew it the moment I shook hands with you. I felt +that we were drawn to each other. I am like you; I am just full of +magnetism." + +Sandy unconsciously moved slightly away: he had a sudden uncomfortable +realization that he was the only one within the sphere of influence. + +After two intermissions he suggested that they go out to the +drug-store and get some soda-water. On the steps they met Annette. + +"You old f-fraud," she whispered to Sandy in passing, "I thought you +didn't like to sit out d-dances." + +He smiled feebly. + +"Don't you mind her teasing," pouted his partner; "if we like to talk +better than to dance, it's our own affair." + +Sandy wished devoutly that it was somebody else's. When they returned, +they went back to their old corner. The chairs, evidently considering +them permanent occupants, assumed an air of familiarity which he +resented. + +"Do you know, you remind me of an old sweetheart of mine," resumed the +voice of his captor, coyly. "He was the first real lover I ever had. +His eyes were big and pensive, just like yours, and there was always +that same look in his face that just made me want to stay with him all +the time to keep him from being lonely. He was awfully fond of me, but +he had to go out West to make his fortune, and he married before he +got back." + +Sandy sighed, ostensibly in sympathy, but in reality at his own sad +fate. At that moment Prometheus himself would not have envied him his +state of mind. The music set his nerves tingling and the dancers +beckoned him on, yet he was bound to his chair, with no relief in +view. At the tenth intermission he suggested soda-water again, after +which they returned to their seats. + +"I hope people aren't talking about us," she said, with a pleased +laugh. "I oughtn't to have given you all these dances. It's perfectly +fatal for a girl to show such preference for one man. But we are so +congenial, and you do remind me--" + +"If it's embarrassing to you--" began Sandy, grasping the straw with +both hands. + +"Not one bit," she asserted. "If you would rather have a good +confidential time here with me than to meet a lot of silly little +girls, then I don't care what people say. But, as I was telling you, I +met him the year I came out, and he was interested in me right off--" + +On and on and on she went, and Sandy ceased to struggle. He sank in +his chair in dogged dejection. He felt that she had been talking ever +since he was born, and was going to continue until he died, and that +all he could do was to wait in anguish for the end. He watched the +flushed, happy faces whirling by. How he envied the boys their wilted +collars! After eons and eons of time the band played "Home, Sweet +Home." + +"It's the last dance," said she. "Aren't you sorry? We've had a +perfectly divine time--" She got no further, for her partner, faithful +through many numbers, had deserted his post at last. + +Sandy pushed eagerly through the crowd and presented himself at Ruth's +side. She was sitting with several boys on the stage steps, her cheeks +flushed from the dance, and a loosened curl falling across her bare +shoulder. He tried to claim his dance, but the words, too long +confined, rushed to his lips so madly as to form a blockade. + +She looked up and saw him--saw the longing and doubt in his eyes, and +came to his rescue. + +"Isn't this our dance, Mr. Kilday?" she said, half smiling, half +timidly. + +In the excitement of the moment he forgot his carefully practised bow, +and the omission brought such chagrin that he started out with the +wrong foot. There was a gentle, ripping sound, and a quarter of a yard +of lace trailed from the hem of his partner's skirt. + +"Did I put me foot in it?" cried Sandy, in such burning consternation +that Ruth laughed. + +"It doesn't matter a bit," she said lightly, as she stooped to pin it +up. "It shows I've had a good time. Come! Don't let's miss the music." + +He took her hand, and they stepped out on the polished floor. The +blissful agony of those first few moments was intolerably sweet. + +She was actually dancing with him (one, two, three; one, two, three). +Her soft hair was close to his cheek (one, two, three; one, two, +three). What if he should miss a step (one, two, three)--or fall? + +He stole a glance at her; she smiled reassuringly. Then he forgot all +about the steps and counting time. He felt as he had that morning on +shipboard when the _America_ passed the _Great Britain_. All the joy +of boyhood resurged through his veins, and he danced in a wild +abandonment of bliss; for the band was playing "Home, Sweet Home," +and to Sandy it meant that, come what might, within her shining eyes +his gipsy soul had found its final home. + +[Illustration: "Then he forgot all about the steps and counting time"] + +When the music stopped, and they stood, breathless and laughing, at +the dressing-room door, Ruth said: + +"I thought Annette told me you were just learning to dance!" + +"So I am," said Sandy; "but me heart never kept time for me before!" + +When Annette joined them she looked up at Sandy and smiled. + +"Poor f-fellow!" she said sympathetically. "What a perfectly horrid +time you've had!" + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +THE NELSON HOME + +Willowvale, the Nelson homestead, lay in the last curve of the river, +just before it left the restrictions of town for the freedom of fields +and meadows. + +It was a quaint old house, all over honeysuckles and bow-windows and +verandas, approached by an oleander-bordered walk, and sheltered by a +wide circle of poplar-and oak-trees that had nodded both approval and +disapproval over many generations of Nelsons. + +In the dining-room, on the massive mahogany table, lunch was laid for +three. Carter sat at the foot, absorbed in a newspaper, while at the +head Mrs. Nelson languidly partook of her second biscuit. It was +vulgar, in her estimation, for a lady to indulge in more than two +biscuits at a meal. + +When old Evan Nelson died six years before, he had left the bulk of +his fortune to his two grandchildren, and a handsome allowance to his +eldest son's widow, with the understanding that she was to take charge +of Ruth until that young lady should become of age. + +Mrs. Nelson accepted the trust with becoming resignation. The prospect +of guiding a wealthy and obedient young person through the social +labyrinth to an eligible marriage wakened certain faculties that had +long lain dormant. It was not until the wealthy and obedient young +person began to develop tastes of her own that she found the burden +irksome. + +Nine months of the year Ruth was at boarding-school, and the remaining +three she insisted upon spending in the old home at Clayton, where +Carter kept his dogs and horses and spent his summers. Hitherto Mrs. +Nelson had compromised with her. By adroit management she contrived +to keep her, for weeks at a time, at various summer resorts, where she +expected her to serve a sort of social apprenticeship which would fit +her for her future career. + +At nineteen Ruth developed alarming symptoms of obstinacy. Mrs. Nelson +confessed tearfully to the rest of the family that it had existed in +embryo for years. Instead of making the most of her first summer out +of school, the foolish girl announced her intention of going to +Willowvale for an indefinite stay. + +It was indignation at this state of affairs that caused Mrs. Nelson to +lose her appetite. Clayton was to her the limit of civilization; there +was too much sunshine, too much fresh air, too much out of doors. She +disliked nature in its crude state; she preferred it softened and +toned down to drawing-room pitch. + +She glanced up in disapproval as Ruth's laugh sounded in the hall. + +"Rachel, tell her that lunch is waiting," she said to the colored +girl at her side. + +Carter looked up as Ruth came breezily into the room. She wore her +riding-habit, and her hair was tossed by her brisk morning canter. + +"You don't look as if you had danced all night," he said. "Did the +mare behave herself?" + +"She's a perfect beauty, Carter. I rode her round the old mill-dam, +'cross the ford, and back by the Hollises'. Now I'm perfectly +famished. Some hot rolls, Rachel, and another croquette, and--and +everything you have." + +Mrs. Nelson picked several crumbs from the cloth and laid them +carefully on her plate. "When I was a young lady I always slept after +being out in the evening. I had a half-cup of coffee and one roll +brought to me in bed, and I never rose until noon." + +"But I hate to stay in bed," said Ruth; "and, besides, I hate to miss +a half-day." + +"Is there anything on for this afternoon?" asked Carter. + +"Why, yes--" Ruth began, but her aunt finished for her: + +"Now, Carter, it's too warm to be proposing anything more. You aren't +well, and Ruth ought to stay at home and put cold cream on her face. +It is getting so burned that her pink evening-dresses will be worse +than useless. Besides, there is absolutely nothing to do in this +stupid place. I feel as if I couldn't stand it all summer." + +This being a familiar opening to a disagreeable subject, the two young +people lapsed into silence, and Mrs. Nelson was constrained to address +her communications to the tea-pot. She glanced about the big, +old-fashioned room and sighed. + +"It's nothing short of criminal to keep all this old mahogany buried +here in the country, and the cut-glass and silver. And to think that +the house cannot be sold for two more years! Not until Ruth is of age! +What _do_ you suppose your dear grandfather _could_ have been +thinking of?" + +This question, eliciting no reply from the tea-pot, remained suspended +in the air until it attracted Ruth's wandering attention. + +"I beg your pardon, aunt. What grandfather was thinking of? About the +place? Why, I guess he hoped that Carter and I would keep it." + +Carter looked over his paper. "Keep this old cemetery? Not I! The day +it is sold I start for Europe. If one lung is gone and the other +going, I intend to enjoy myself while it goes." + +"Carter!" begged Ruth, appealingly. + +He laughed. "You ought to be glad to get rid of me, Ruth. You've +bothered your head about me ever since you were born." + +She slipped her hand into his as it lay on the table, and looked at +him wistfully. + +"The idea of the old governor thinking we'd want to stay here!" he +said, with a curl of the lip. + +"Perfectly ridiculous!" echoed Mrs. Nelson. + +"I don't know," said Ruth; "it's more like home than any place else. I +don't think I could ever bear to sell it." + +"Now, my dear Ruth," said Mrs. Nelson, in genuine alarm, "don't be +sentimental, I beg of you. When once you make your debut, you'll feel +very different about things. Of course the place must be sold: it +can't be rented, and I'm sure you will never get me to spend another +summer in Clayton. You could not stay here alone." + +Ruth sat with her chin in her hands and gazed absently out of the +window. She remembered when that yard was to her as the garden of +Eden. As a child she had been brought here, a delicate, faded little +hot-house plant, and for three wonderful years had been allowed to +grow and blossom at will in the freedom of outdoor life. The glamour +of those old days still clung to the place, and made her love +everything connected with it. The front gate, with its wide white +posts, still held the records of her growth, for each year her +grandfather had stood her against it and marked her progress. The huge +green tub holding the crape myrtle was once a park where she and +Annette had played dolls, and once it had served as a burying-ground +when Carter's sling brought down a sparrow. The ice house, with its +steep roof, recalled a thrilling tobogganing experience when she was +six. Grandfather had laughed over the torn gown, and bade her do it +again. + +It was the trees, though, that she loved best of all; for they were +friendly old poplar-trees on which the bark formed itself into all +sorts of curious eyes. One was a wicked old stepfather eye with a +heavy lid; she remembered how she used to tiptoe past it and pretend +to be afraid. Beyond, by the arbor, were two smaller trees, where a +coquettish eye on one looked up to an adoring eye on the other. She +had often built a romance about them as she watched them peeping at +each other through the leaves. + +Down behind the house the waving fields of blue-grass rippled away to +the little river, where weeping willows hung their heads above the +lazy water, and ferns reached up the banks to catch the flowers. And +the fields and the river and the house and the trees were hers,--hers +and Carter's,--and neither could sell without the consent of the +other. She took a deep breath of satisfaction. The prospect of living +alone in the old homestead failed to appal her. + +"A letter came this morning," said Mrs. Nelson, tracing the crest on +the silver creamer. "It's from your Aunt Elizabeth. She wants us to +spend ten days with her at the shore. They have taken a handsome +cottage next to the Warrentons. You remember young Mr. Warrenton, +Ruth? He is a grandson of Commodore Warrenton." + +"Warrenton? Oh, yes, I do remember him--the one that didn't have any +neck." + +Mrs. Nelson closed her eyes for a moment, as if praying for patience; +then she went on: "Your Aunt Elizabeth thinks, as I do, that it is +absurd for you to bury yourself down here. She wants you to meet +people of your own class. Do you think you can be ready to start on +Wednesday?" + +"Why, we have been here only a week!" cried Ruth. "I am having such a +good time, and--" she broke off impulsively. "But I know it's dull for +you, Aunt Clara. You go, and leave me here with Carter. I'll do +everything you say if you will only let me stay." + +Carter laughed. "One would think that Ruth's sole aim in life was to +cultivate Clayton--the distinguished, exclusive, aristocratic society +of Clayton." + +She put her hand on his arm and looked at him pleadingly: "Please +don't laugh at me, Carter! I love it here, and I want to stay. You +know Aunt Elizabeth; you know what her friends are like. They think I +am queer. I can't be happy where they are." + +Mrs. Nelson resorted to her smelling-bottle. "Of course my opinions +are of no weight. I only wish to remind you that it would be most +impolitic to offend your Aunt Elizabeth. She could introduce you into +the most desirable set; and even if she is a little--" she searched a +moment for a word--"a little liberal in her views, one can overlook +that on account of her generosity. She is a very influential woman, +Ruth, and a very wealthy one." + +Ruth made a quick, impatient gesture. "I don't like her, Aunt Clara; +and I don't want you to ask me to go there." + +Mrs. Nelson folded her napkin with tragic deliberation. "Very well," +she said; "it is not my place to urge it. I can only point out your +duty and leave the rest to you. One thing I must speak about, and that +is your associating so familiarly with these townspeople. They are +impertinent; they take advantages, and forget who we are. Why, the +blacksmith had the audacity to refer to the dear major as 'Bob.'" + +"Old Uncle Dan?" asked Ruth, laughing. "I saw him yesterday, and he +shook hands with me and said: 'Golly, sissy, how you've growed!'" + +"Ruth," cried Mrs. Nelson, "how can you! Haven't you _any_ family +pride?" The tears came to her eyes, for the invitation to visit the +Hunter-Nelsons was one for which she had angled skilfully, and its +summary dismissal was a sore trial to her. + +In a moment Ruth was at her side, all contrition: "I'm sorry, Aunt +Clara; I know I'm a disappointment to you. I'll try--" + +Mrs. Nelson withdrew her hand and directed her injured reply to +Carter. "I have done my duty by your sister. She has been given every +advantage a young lady could desire. If she insists upon throwing away +her opportunities, I can't help it. I suppose I am no longer to be +consulted--no longer to be considered." She sought the seclusion of +her pocket-handkerchief, and her pompadour swayed with emotion. + +Ruth stood at the table, miserably pulling a rose to pieces. This +discussion was an old one, but it lost none of its sting by +repetition. Was she queer and obstinate and unreasonable? + +"Ruth's all right," said Carter, seeing her discomfort. "She will have +more sense when she is older. She's just got her little head turned by +all the attention she has had since coming home. There isn't a boy in +the county who wouldn't make love to her at the drop of her eyelash. +She was the belle of the hop last night; had the boys about her three +deep most of the time." + +"The hop!" Mrs. Nelson so far forgot herself as to uncover one eye. +"Don't speak of that wretched affair! The idea of her going! What do +you suppose your Aunt Elizabeth would say? A country dance in a public +hall!" + +"I only dropped in for the last few dances," said Carter, pouring +himself another glass of wine. "It was beastly hot and stupid." + +"I danced every minute the music played," cried Ruth; "and when they +played, 'Home, Sweet Home,' I could have begun and gone right through +it again." + +"By the way," said her brother, "didn't I see you dancing with that +Kilday boy?" + +"The last dance," said Ruth. "Why?" + +"Oh, I was a little surprised, that's all." + +Mrs. Nelson, scenting the suggestion in Carter's voice, was instantly +alert. + +"Who, pray, is Kilday?" + +"Oh, Kilday isn't anybody; that's the trouble. If he had been, he +would never have stayed with that old crank Judge Hollis. The judge +thinks he is appointed by Providence to control this bright particular +burg. He is even attempting to regulate me of late. The next time he +interferes he'll hear from me." + +"But Kilday?" urged Mrs. Nelson, feebly persistent. + +"Oh, Kilday is good enough in his place. He's a first-class athlete, +and has made a record up at the academy. But he was a peddler, you +know--an Irish peddler; came here three or four years ago with a pack +on his back." + +"And Ruth danced with him!" Mrs. Nelson's words were punctuated with +horror. + +Ruth looked up with blazing eyes. "Yes, I danced with him; why +shouldn't I? You made me dance with Mr. Warrenton, last summer, when I +told you he was drinking." + +"But, my dear child, you forget who Mr. Warrenton is. And you actually +danced with a peddler!" Her voice grew faint. "My dear, this must +never occur again. You are young and easily imposed upon. I will +accompany you everywhere in the future. Of course you need never +recognize him hereafter. The impertinence of his addressing you!" + +A step sounded on the gravel outside. Ruth ran to the window and spoke +to some one below. "I'll be there as soon as I change my habit," she +called. + +"Who is it?" asked her aunt, hastily arranging her disturbed locks. + +Ruth paused at the door. There was a slight tremor about her lips, +but her eyes flashed their first open declaration of independence. + +"It's Mr. Kilday," she said; "we are going out on the river." + +There was an oppressive silence of ten minutes after she left, during +which Carter smiled behind his paper and Mrs. Nelson gazed indignantly +at the tea-pot. Then she tapped the bell. + +"Rachel," she said impressively, "go to Miss Ruth's room and get her +veil and gloves and sun-shade. Have Thomas take them to the boat-house +at once." + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +UNDER THE WILLOWS + + +Between willow-fringed banks of softest green, and under the bluest of +summer skies, the little river took its lazy Southern way. Tall blue +lobelias and golden flags played hide-and-seek in the reflections of +the gentle stream, and an occasional spray of goldenrod, advance-guard +of the autumn, stood apart, a silent warning to the summer idlers. + +Somewhere overhead a vireo, dainty poet of bird-land, proclaimed his +love to the wide world; while below, another child of nature, no less +impassioned, no less aching to give vent to the joy that was bursting +his being, sat silent in a canoe that swung softly with the pulsing of +the stream. + +For Sandy had followed the highroad that led straight into the Land +of Enchantment. No more wanderings by intricate byways up golden hills +to golden castles; the Love Road had led him at last to the real world +of the King Arthur days--the world that was lighted by a strange and +wondrous light of romance, wherein he dwelt, a knight, waiting and +longing to prove his valor in the eyes of his lady fair. + +Burning deeds of prowess rioted in his brain. Oh for dungeons and +towers and forbidding battlements! Any danger was welcome from which +he might rescue her. Fire, flood, or bandits--he would brave them all. +Meanwhile he sat in the prow of the boat, his hands clasped about his +knees, utterly powerless to break the spell of awkward silence that +seemed to possess him. + +[Illustration: "Burning deeds of prowess rioted in his brain"] + +They had paddled in under the willows to avoid the heat of the sun, +and had tied their boat to an overhanging bough. + +Ruth, with her sleeve turned back to the elbow, was trailing her hand +in the cool water and watching the little circles that followed her +fingers. Her hat was off, and her hair, where the sun fell on it +through the leaves, was almost the color of her eyes. + +But what was the real color of her eyes? Sandy brought all his +intellect to bear upon the momentous question. Sometimes, he thought, +they were as dark as the velvet shadows in the heart of the stream; +sometimes they were lighted by tiny flames of gold that sparkled in +the brown depths as the sunshine sparkled in the shadows. They were +deep as his love and bright as his hope. + +Suddenly he realized that she had asked him a question. + +"It's never a word I've heard of what ye are saying!" he exclaimed +contritely. "My mind was on your eyes, and the brown of them. Do they +keep changing color like that all the time?" + +Ruth, thus earnestly appealed to, blushed furiously. + +"I was talking about the river," she said quickly. "It's jolly under +here, isn't it? So cool and green! I was awfully cross when I +came." + +"You cross?" + +She nodded her head. "And ungrateful, and perverse, and queer, and +totally unlike my father's family." She counted off her shortcomings +on her fingers, and raised her brows in comical imitation of her aunt. + +"A left-hand blessing on the one that said so!" cried Sandy, with such +ardor that she fled to another subject. + +"I saw Martha Meech yesterday. She was talking about you. She was very +weak, and could speak only in a whisper, but she seemed happy." + +"It's like her soul was in Heaven already," said Sandy. + +"I took her a little picture," went on Ruth; "she loves them so. It +was a copy of one of Turner's." + +"Turner?" repeated Sandy. "Joseph Mallord William Turner, born in +London, 1775. Member of the Royal Academy. Died in 1851." + +She looked so amazed at this burst of information that he laughed. + +"It's out of the catalogue. I learned what it said about the ones I +liked best years ago." + +"Where?" + +"At the Olympian Exposition." + +"I was there," said Ruth; "it was the summer we came home from Europe. +Perhaps that was where I saw you. I know I saw you somewhere before +you came here." + +"Perhaps," said Sandy, skipping a bit of bark across the water. + +A band of yellow butterflies on wide wings circled about them, and +one, mistaking Ruth's rosy wet fingers for a flower, settled there for +a long rest. + +"Look!" she whispered; "see how long it stays!" + +"It's not meself would be blaming it for forgetting to go away," said +Sandy. + +They both laughed, then Ruth leaned over the boat's side and pretended +to be absorbed in her reflection in the water. Sandy had not learned +that unveiled glances are improper, and if his lips refrained from +echoing the vireo's song, his eyes were less discreet. + +"You've got a dimple in your elbow!" he cried, with the air of one +discovering a continent. + +"I haven't," declared she, but the dimple turned State's evidence. + +The sun had gone under a cloud as the afternoon shadows began to +lengthen, and a light tenderer than sunlight and warmer than moonlight +fell across the river. The water slipped over the stones behind them +with a pleasant swish and swirl, and the mint that was crushed by the +prow of their boat gave forth an aromatic perfume. + +Ever afterward the first faint odor of mint made Sandy close his eyes +in a quick desire to retain the memory it recalled, to bring back the +dawn of love, the first faint flush of consciousness in the girlish +cheeks and the soft red lips, and the quick, uncertain breath as her +heart tried not to catch beat with his own. + +"Can't you sing something?" she asked presently. "Annette Fenton says +you know all sorts of quaint old songs." + +"They're just the bits I remember of what me mother used to sing me in +the old country." + +"Sing the one you like best," demanded Ruth. + +Softly, with the murmur of the river ac-companying the song, he began: + + "Ah! The moment was sad when my love and I parted, + Savourneen deelish, signan O! + As I kiss'd off her tears, I was nigh broken-hearted!-- + Savourneen deelish, signan O!" + +Ruth took her hand out of the water and looked at him with puzzled +eyes. "Where have I heard it? On a boat somewhere, and the moon was +shining. I remember the refrain perfectly." + +Sandy remembered, too. In a moment he felt himself an impostor and a +cheat. He had stumbled into the Enchanted Land, but he had no right to +be there. He buried his head in his hands and felt the dream-world +tottering about him. + +"Are you trying to remember the second verse?" asked Ruth. + +"No," said he, his head still bowed; "I'm trying to help you remember +the first one. Was it the boat ye came over from Europe in?" + +"That was it!" she cried. "It was on shipboard. I was standing by the +railing one night and heard some one singing it in the steerage. I was +just a little girl, but I've never forgotten that 'Savourneen +deelish,' nor the way he sang it." + +"Was it a man'?" asked Sandy, huskily. + +"No," she said, half frowning in her effort to remember; "it was a +boy--a stowaway, I think. They said he had tried to steal his way in a +life-boat." + +"He had!" cried Sandy, raising his head and leaning toward her. "He +stole on board with only a few shillings and a bundle of clothes. He +sneaked his way up to a life-boat and hid there like a thief. When +they found him and punished him as he deserved, there was a little +lady looked down at him and was sorry, and he's traveled over all the +years from then to now to thank her for it." + +Ruth drew back in amazement, and Sandy's courage failed for a moment. +Then his face hardened and he plunged recklessly on: + +"I've blacked boots, and sold papers; I've fought dogs, and peddled, +and worked on the railroad. Many's the time I've been glad to eat the +scraps the workmen left on the track. And just because a kind, good +man--God prosper his soul!--saw fit to give me a home and an +education, I turned a fool and dared to think I was a gentleman!" + +For a moment pride held Ruth's pity back. Every tradition of her +family threw up a barrier between herself and this son of the soil. + +"Why did you come to Kentucky?" she asked. + +"Why?" cried Sandy, too miserable to hold anything back. "Because I +saw the name of the place on your bag at the pier. I came here for the +chance of seeing you again, of knowing for sure there was something +good and beautiful in the world to offset all the bad I'd seen. Every +page I've learned has been for you, every wrong thought I've put out +of me mind has been to make more room for you. I don't even ask ye to +be my friend; I only ask to be yours, to see ye sometime, to talk to +you, and to keep ye first in my heart and to serve ye to the end." + +The vireo had stopped singing and was swinging on a bough above them. + +Ruth sat very still and looked straight before her. She had never seen +a soul laid bare before, and the sight thrilled and troubled her. All +the petty artifices which the world had taught her seemed useless +before this shining candor. + +"And--and you've remembered me all this time?" she asked, with a +little tremble in her voice. "I did not know people cared like that." + +"And you're not sorry?" persisted Sandy. "You'll let me be your +friend?" + +She held out her hand with an earnestness as deep as his own. In an +instant he had caught it to his lips. All the bloom of the summer +rushed to her cheeks, and she drew quickly away. + +"Oh! but I'll take it back--I never meant it," cried Sandy, wild with +remorse. "Me heart crossed the line ahead of me head, that was all. +You've given me your friendship, and may the sorrow seize me if I ever +ask for more!" + +At this the vireo burst into such mocking, derisive laughter of song +that they both looked up and smiled. + +"He doesn't think you mean it," said Ruth; "but you must mean it, +else I can't ever be your friend." + +Sandy shook his fist at the bird. + +"You spalpeen, you! If I had ye down here I'd throw ye out of the +tree! But you mustn't believe him. I'll stick to my word as the wind +to the tree-tops. No--I don't mean that. As the stream to the shore. +No-" + +He stopped and laughed. All figures of speech conspired to make him +break his word. + +Somewhere from out the forgotten world came six long, lingering +strokes of a bell. Sandy and Ruth untied the canoe and paddled out +into midstream, leaving the willow bower full of memories and the +vireo still hopping about among the branches. + +"I'll paddle you up to the bridge," said Ruth; "then you will be near +the post-office." + +Sandy's voice was breaking to say that she could paddle him up to the +moon if she would only stay there between him and the sun, with her +hair forming a halo about her face. But they were going down-stream, +and all too soon he was stepping out of the canoe to earth again. + +"And will I have to be waiting till the morrow to see you?" he asked, +with his hand on the boat. + +"To-morrow? Not until Sunday." + +"But Sunday is a month off! You'll be coming for the mail?" + +"We send for the mail," said Ruth, demurely. + +"Then ye'll be sending in vain for yours. I'll hold it back till ye +come yourself, if I lose my position for it." + +Ruth put three feet of water between them, then she looked up with +mischief in her eyes. "I don't want you to lose your position," she +said. + +"Then you'll come?" + +"Perhaps." + +Sandy watched her paddle away straight into the heart of the sun. He +climbed the bank and waved her out of sight. He had to use a maple +branch, for his hat and handkerchief, not to mention less material +possessions, were floating down-stream in the boat with Ruth. + +"Hello, Kilday!" called Dr. Fenton from the road above. "Going +up-town? I'll give you a lift." + +Sandy turned and looked up at the doctor impatiently. The presence of +other people in the world seemed an intrusion. + +"I've been out to the Meeches' all afternoon," said the doctor, +wearily, mopping his face with a red-bordered handkerchief. + +"Is Martha worse?" asked Sandy, in quick alarm. + +"No, she's better," said the doctor, gruffly; "she died at four +o'clock." + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +THE VICTIM + + +Some poet has described love as a little glow and a little shiver; to +Sandy it was more like a ravaging fire in his heart, which lighted up +a world of such unutterable bliss that he cheerfully added fresh fuel +to the flames that were consuming him. The one absorbing necessity of +his existence was to see Ruth daily, and the amount of strategy, +forethought, and subtilty with which he accomplished it argued well +for his future ability at the bar. + +In the long hours of the night Wisdom urged prudence; she presented +all the facts in the case, and convinced him of his folly. But with +the dawn he threw discretion to the winds, and rushed valiantly +forward, leading a forlorn hope under cover of a little Platonic flag +of truce. + +With all the fervor and intensity of his nature he tried to fit +himself to Ruth's standards. Every unconscious suggestion that she let +fall, through word, or gesture, or expression, he took to heart and +profited by. With almost passionate earnestness he sought to be worthy +of her. Fighting, climbing, struggling upward, he closed his eyes to +the awful depth to which he would fall if his quest were vain. + +Meanwhile his cheeks became hollow and he lost his appetite. The judge +attributed it to Martha Meech's death; for Sandy's genuine grief and +his continued kindness to the bereft neighbors confirmed an old +suspicion. Mrs. Hollis thought it was malaria, and dosed him +accordingly. It was Aunt Melvy who made note of his symptoms and +diagnosed his case correctly. + +"He's sparkin' some gal, Miss Sue; dat's what ails him," she said one +evening as she knelt on the sitting-room hearth to kindle the first +fire of the season. "Dey ain't but two t'ings onder heaben dat'll keep +a man f'om eatin'. One's a woman, t' other is lack ob food." + +Judge Hollis looked over his glasses and smiled. + +"Who do you think the lady is, Melvy?" + +Aunt Melvy wagged her head knowingly as she held a paper across the +fireplace to start the blaze. + +"I ain't gwine tell no tales on Mist' Sandy. But yer can't fool dis +heah ole nigger. I mind de signs; I knows mo' 'bout de young folks in +dis heah town den dey t'ink I do. Fust t'ing you know, I'm gwine tell +on some ob 'em, too. I 'spect de doctor would put' near die ef he +knowed dat Miss Annette was a-havin' incandescent meetin's wif Carter +Nelson 'most ever' day." + +"Is Sandy after Annette, too?" + +"No, sonny, no!" said Aunt Melvy, to whom all men were "sonny" until +they died of old age. "Mist' Sandy he's aimin' at high game. He's +fix' his eyeball on de shore-'nough quality." + +"Do you mean Ruth Nelson?" asked Mrs. Hollis, snapping her scissors +sharply. "He surely wouldn't be fool enough to think she would look at +him. Why, the Nelsons think they are the only aristocratic people that +ever lived in Clayton. If they had paid less attention to their +ancestors and more to their descendants, they might have had a better +showing." + +"I nebber said it was Miss Rufe," said Aunt Melvy from the doorway; +"but den ag'in I don't say hit ain't." + +"Well, I hope it's not," said the judge to his wife as he laid down +his paper; "though I must say she is as pretty and friendly a girl as +I ever saw. No matter how long she stays away, she is always glad to +see everybody when she comes back. Some of old Evan's geniality must +have come down to her." + +"Geniality!" cried Mrs. Hollis. "It was mint-juleps and brandy and +soda. He was just as snobbish as the rest of them when he was sober. +If she has any good in her, it's from her mother's side of the house." + +"I hope Sandy isn't interested there," went on the judge, +thoughtfully. "It would not do him any good, and would spoil his taste +for what he could get. How long has it been going on, Sue?" + +"He's been acting foolish for a month, but it gets worse all the time. +He moons around the house, with his head in the clouds, and sits up +half the night hanging out of his window. He has raked out all those +silly old poetry-books of yours, and I find them strewn all over the +house. Here's one now; look at those pencil-marks all round the +margin!" + +"Some of the marks were there before," said the judge, as he read the +title. + +"Then there are more fools than one in the world. Here is where he has +turned down a leaf. Now just read that bosh and nonsense!" + +The judge took the book from her hand and read with a reminiscent +smile: + + "When cold in the earth lies the friend thou hast loved, + Be his faults and his follies forgot by thee then; + Or if from their slumber the veil be removed, + Weep o'er them in silence and close it again. + And, oh! if 't is pain to remember how far + From the pathway of light he was tempted to roam, + Be it bliss to remember that thou wert the star + That arose on his darkness and guided him home." + +The judge paused, with his eyes on the fire; then he said: "I think +I'll wait up for the boy to-night, Sue. I want to tell him the good +news myself. You haven't spoken of it?" + +"No, indeed. I haven't seen him since breakfast. Melvy says he spends +his spare time on the river. That's what's giving him the malaria, +too, you mark my words." + +It was after eleven when Sandy's step sounded on the porch. At the +judge's call he opened the sitting-room door and stood dazed by the +sudden light. The judge noticed that he was pale and dejected, and he +suppressed a smile over the imaginary troubles of youth. + +"What's the matter? Are you sick?" he asked. + +"No, sir." + +"Come in to the fire; it's a bit chilly these nights." + +Sandy dropped listlessly into a chair, with his back to the light. + +"There are several things I want to talk over," continued the judge. +"One is about Ricks Wilson. He has behaved very badly ever since that +affair in August. Everybody who goes near the jail comes away with +reports of his threats against me. He seems to think I am holding his +trial over until January, when the fact is I have been trying to get +him released on your account. It is of no use, though; he will have to +wait his turn." + +"I'm sorry, sir," said Sandy, without looking up. + +"Then there's Carter Nelson encouraging him in his feeling against +me. It seems that Nelson wants the fellow to drive for him at the fall +trots, and he has given me no end of trouble about getting him off. +What an insolent fellow Nelson is! He talked very ugly in my office +yesterday, and made various threats about making me regret any +interference. I wouldn't have stood it from any one else; but Carter +is hardly responsible. I have watched him from the time he was born. +He came into the world with a mortal illness, and I doubt if he ever +had a well day in his life. He's a degenerate, Sandy; he's bearing the +sins of a long line of dissolute ancestors. We have to be patient with +men like that; we have to look on them as we do on the insane." + +He waited for some response, but, getting none, pulled his chair in +confidential proximity and laid his hand on Sandy's knee. "However, +that's neither here nor there," he said. "I have a surprise for you. I +couldn't let you go to bed without telling you about it. It's about +your future, Sandy. I've been talking it over with Mr. Moseley, and he +is confident--" + +Suddenly Sandy rose and stood by the table. + +"Don't be making any more plans for me," he said desperately; "I've +made up me mind to enlist." + +"Enlist! In the army?" + +"Yes; I've got to get away. I must go so far that I can't come back; +and, judge--I want to go to-morrow!" + +"Is it money matters?" + +A long silence followed--of the kind that ripens confidence. Presently +Sandy lifted his haggard eyes: "It's nothing I'm ashamed of, judge; ye +must take me word for that. It's like taking the heart out of me body +to go, but I've made up me mind. Nothing on earth can change me +purpose; I enlist on the morrow." + +The judge looked at him long and earnestly over his glasses, then he +asked in calm, judicial tones: "Is her answer final?" + +Sandy started from his chair. How finite intelligence could have +discovered the innermost secret of his soul seemed little short of +miraculous. But the relief of being able to pour out his feelings +mastered all other considerations. + +"Oh, sir, there was never a question. Like the angel she is, she let +me be near her so long as I held my peace; but, fool that I am, I +break me promise again and again. I can't keep silent when I see her. +The truth would burst from me lips if I was dumb." + +"And you think you would be better if you were out of her sight?" + +"Is a starving man better when he is away from food?" asked Sandy, +fiercely. "Heaven knows it's not of meself I'm thinking. It's breaking +her tender heart to see me misery staring her in the face, and I'll +put it out of her sight." + +"Is it Ruth?" asked the judge. + +Sandy assented with bowed head. + +The judge got up and stood before the fire. + +"Didn't you know," he began as kindly as he could put it, "that you +were not in her--that is, that she was not of your--" + +Sandy lifted blazing eyes, hot with the passion of youth. + +"If she'd been in heaven and I'd been in hell, I'd have stretched out +my arms to her still!" + +Something in his eyes, in his voice, in his intensity, brought the +judge to his side. + +"How long has this thing been going on?" he asked seriously. + +"Four years!" + +"Before you came here?" + +"Yes." + +"You followed her here?" + +"Yes." + +Whereupon the judge gave vent to the one profane word in his +vocabulary. + +Then Sandy, having confided so far, made a clean breast of it, +breaking down at the end when he tried to describe Ruth's goodness +and the sorrow his misery had caused her. + +When it was over the judge had hold of his hand and was bestowing +large, indiscriminate pats upon his head and shoulders. + +"It's hard luck, Sandy; hard luck. But you must brace up, boy. +Everybody wants something in the world he can't get. We all go under, +sooner or later, with some wish ungratified. Now I've always wanted--" +he pressed his fingers on his lips for a moment, then went on--"the +one thing I've wanted was a son. It seemed to me there was nothing +else in the world would make up to me for that lack. I had money more +than enough, and health and friends; but I wanted a boy. When you came +I said to Sue: 'Let's keep him a while just to see how it would feel.' +It's been worth while, Sandy; you have done me credit. It almost +seemed as if the Lord didn't mean me to be disappointed, after all. +And to-day, when Mr. Moseley said you ought to have a year or two at +the big university, I said: 'Why not? He's just like my own. I'll send +him this year and next, and then he can come home and be a comfort to +me all the rest of my days.' That's what I was sitting up to tell you, +Sandy; but now--" + +"And ye sha'n't be disappointed!" cried Sandy. "I'll go anywhere you +say, do anything you wish. Only you wouldn't be asking me to stay +here?" + +"Not now, Sandy; not for a while." + +"Never!--so long as she's here. I'll never bring me sorrow between her +and the sun again-so help me, Heaven! And if the Lord gives me +strength, I'll never see her face again, so long as I live!" + +"Go to bed, boy; go to bed. You are tired out. We will ship you off to +the university next week." + +"Can't I be going to-morrow? Friday, then? I'd never dare trust meself +over the week." + +"Friday, then. But mind, no more prancing to-night; we must both go to +bed." + +Neither of them did so, however. Sandy went to his room and sat in +his window, watching a tiny light that flickered, far across the +valley, in the last bend of the river before it left the town. His +muscles were tense, his nerves a-tingle, as he strained his eyes in +the darkness to keep watch of the beacon. It was the last glimpse of +home to a sailor who expected never to return. + +Down in the sitting-room the judge was lost in the pages of a worn old +copy of Tom Moore. He fingered the pages with a tenderness of other +days, and lingered over the forgotten lines with a half-quizzical, +half-sad smile on his lips. For he had been a lover once, and Sandy's +romance stirred dead leaves in his heart that sent up a faint perfume +of memory. + +"Yes," he mused half aloud; "I marked that one too: + + "Be it bliss to remember that thou wert the star + That arose on his darkness and guided him home." + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +THE TRIALS OF AN ASSISTANT POSTMASTER + + +By all laws of mercy the post-master in a small town should be old and +mentally near-sighted. Jimmy Reed was young and curious. He had even +yielded to temptation once in removing a stamp on a letter from +Annette Fenton to a strange suitor. Not that he wanted to delay the +letter. He only wanted to know if she put tender messages under the +stamp when she wrote to other people. + +During the two years Sandy remained at the university, Jimmy handed +his letters out of the post-office window to the judge once a week, +following them half-way with his body to pick up the verbal crumbs of +interest the judge might let fall while perusing them. The supremacy +which Sandy had established in the base-ball days had lent him a +permanent halo in the eyes of the younger boys of Clayton. "Letter +from Sandy this morning," Jimmy would announce, adding somewhat +anxiously, "Ain't he on the team yet?" + +The judge was obliging and easy-going, and he frequently gratified +Jimmy's curiosity. + +"No; he's studying pretty hard these days. He says he is through with +athletics." + +"Does he like it up there?" + +"Oh, yes, yes; I guess he likes it well enough," the judge would +answer tentatively; "but I am afraid he's working too hard." + +"Looks like a pity to spoil such a good pitcher," said Jimmy, +thoughtfully. "I never saw him lose but one game, and that nearly +killed him." + +"Disappointment goes hard with him," said the judge, and he sighed. + +Jimmy's chronic interest developed into acute curiosity the second +winter--about the time the Nelsons returned to Clayton after a long +absence. + +On Thanksgiving morning he found two letters bearing his hero's +handwriting. One was to Judge Hollis and one to Miss Ruth Nelson. The +next week there were also two, both of which went to Miss Nelson. +After that it became a regular occurrence. + +Jimmy recognized two letters a week from one person to one person as a +danger-signal. His curiosity promptly rose to fever-heat. He even went +so far as to weigh the letters, and roughly to calculate the number of +pages in each. Once or twice he felt something hard inside, and upon +submitting the envelop to his nose, he distinguished the faint +fragrance of pressed flowers. It was perhaps a blessing in disguise +that the duty of sorting the outgoing mail did not fall to his lot. +One added bit of information would have resulted in spontaneous +combustion. + +By and by letters came daily, their weight increasing until they +culminated, about Christmas-time, in a special-delivery letter which +bristled under the importance of its extra stamp. + +The same morning the telegraph operator stopped in to ask if the +Nelsons had been in for their mail. "I have a message for Miss Nelson, +but I thought they started for California this morning." + +"It's to-morrow morning they go," said Jimmy. "I'll send the message +out. I've got a special letter for her, and they can both go out by +the same boy." + +When the operator had gone, Jimmy promptly unfolded the yellow slip, +which was innocent of envelop. + + Do not read special-delivery letter. Will explain. + + S.K. + +For some time he sat with the letter in one hand and the message in +the other. Why had Sandy written that huge letter if he did not want +her to read it? Why didn't he want her to read it? Questions buzzed +about him like bees. + +Large ears are said to be indicative of an inquisitive nature. Jimmy's +stood out like the handles on a loving-cup. With all this explosive +material bottled up in him, he felt like a torpedo-boat deprived of +action. + +After a while he got up and went into the drug-store next door. When +he came back he made sure he was alone in the office. Then he propped +up the lid of his desk with the top of his head, in a manner acquired +at school, and hiding behind this improvised screen, he carefully took +from his pocket a small bottle of gasolene. Pouring a little on his +handkerchief, he applied it to the envelop of the special-delivery +letter. + +As if by magic, the words within showed through; and by frequent +applications of the liquid the engrossed Jimmy deciphered the +following: + + --like the moan of the sea in my heart, and it will not be still. + Heart, body, and soul will call to you, Ruth, so long as the + breath is in my body. I have not the courage to be your friend. + I swear, with all the strength I have left, never to see you nor + write you again. God bless you, my-- + +A noise at the window brought Jimmy to the surface. It was Annette +Fenton, and she seemed nervous and excited. + +"Mercy, Jimmy! What's the m-matter? You looked like you were caught +eating doughnuts in study hour. What a funny smell! Say, Jimmy; don't +you want to do something for me?" + +Jimmy had spent his entire youth in urging her to accept everything +that was his, and he hailed this as a good omen. + +"I have a l-letter here for dad," she went on, fidgeting about +uneasily and watching the door. "I don't want him to g-get it until +after the last train goes to-night. Will you see that he d-doesn't get +it before nine o'clock?" + +Jimmy took the letter and looked blankly from it to Annette. + +"Why, it's from you!" + +"What if it is, you b-booby?" she cried sharply; then she changed her +tactics and looked up appealingly through the little square window. + +"Oh, Jimmy, do help me out! That's a d-dear! I'm in no end of a +scrape. You'll do as I ask, now w-w-won't you?" + +Jimmy surrendered on the spot. + +"Now," said Annette, greatly relieved, "find out what time the d-down +train starts, and if it's on time." + +"It ought to start at three," reported Jimmy after consulting the +telegraph operator. "It's an hour late on account of the snow. +Expecting somebody?" + +She shook her head. + +"Going to the city yourself?" + +"Of course not. Whatever made you think that?" she cried with +unnecessary vehemence. Then, changing the subject abruptly, she added: +"G-guess who has come home?" + +"Who?" cried Jimmy, with palpitating ears. + +"Sandy Kilday. You never saw anybody look so g-grand. He's gotten to +be a regular swell, and he walks like this." + +Annette held her umbrella horizontally, squared her shoulders, and +swung bravely across the room. + +"Sandy Kilday?" gasped Jimmy, with a clutch at the letter in his +pocket. "Where's he at?" + +"He's trying to get up from the d-depot. He has been an hour coming +two squares. Everybody has stopped him, from Mr. Moseley on down to +the b-blacksmith's twins." + +"Is he coming this way?" asked Jimmy, wild-eyed and anxious. + +Annette stepped to the window. + +"Yes; they are crossing the street now." She opened the sash and, +snatching a handful of snow, rolled it into a ball, which she sailed +out of the window. It was promptly answered by one from below, which +whirled past her and shattered itself against the wall. + +"Dare, dare, double dare!" she called as she flung handfuls of loose +snow from the window-ledge. A quick volley of balls followed, then +the door burst open. Sandy and Ruth Nelson stood laughing on the +threshold. + +"Hello, partner!" sang out Sandy to Jimmy. "Still at the old work, I +see! Do you mind how you taught me to count the change when I first +sold stamps?" + +Jimmy tried to smile, but his effort was a failure. The interesting +tangle of facts and circumstances faded from his mind, and he resorted +instinctively to nature's first law. With an agitated countenance, he +sought self-preservation by waving Sandy's letter behind him in a +frantic effort to banish, if possible, the odor of his guilt. + +Sandy stayed at the door with Annette, but Ruth came to the window and +asked for her mail. When she smiled at the contrite Jimmy she +scattered the few remaining ideas that lingered in his brain. With +crimson face and averted eyes, he handed her the letter, forgetting +that telegrams existed. + +He saw her send a quick, puzzled glance from the letter to Sandy; he +saw her turn away from the door and tear open the envelop; then, to +his everlasting credit, he saw no more. + +When he ventured forth from behind his desk the office was empty. He +made a cautious survey of the premises; then, opening a back window, +he seized a small bottle by the neck and hurled it savagely against +the brick wall opposite. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +THE IRONY OF CHANCE + + +The snow, which had begun as an insignificant flurry in the morning, +developed into a storm by afternoon. + +Four miles from town, in a dreary stretch of country, a +dejected-looking object tramped along the railroad-track. His hat was +pulled over his eyes and his hands were thrust in his pockets. Now and +again he stopped, listened, and looked at his watch. + +It was Sandy Kilday, and he was waiting for the freight-train with the +fixed intention of committing suicide. + +The complications arising from Jimmy Reed's indiscretion had resulted +disastrously. When Sandy found that Ruth had read his letter, his +common sense took flight. Instead of a supplicant, he became an +invader, and stormed the citadel with such hot-headed passion and +fervor that Ruth fled in affright to the innermost chamber of her +maidenhood, and there, barred and barricaded, withstood the siege. + +His one desire in life now was to quit it. He felt as if he had read +his death-warrant, and it was useless ever again to open his eyes on +this gray, impossible world. + +He did not know how far he had come. Everything about him was strange +and unfriendly: the woods had turned to gaunt and gloomy skeletons +that shivered and moaned in the wind; the sunny fields of ragweed were +covered with a pall; and the river--his dancing, singing river--was a +black and sullen stream that closed remorselessly over the dying +snowflakes. His woods, his fields, his river,--they knew him not; he +stared at them blankly and they stared back at him. + +A rabbit, frightened at his approach, jumped out of the bushes and +went bounding down the track ahead of him. The sight of the round +little cottontail leaping from tie to tie brought a momentary +diversion; but he did not want to be diverted. + +With an effort he came back to his stern purpose. He forced himself to +face the facts and the future. What did it matter if he was only +twenty-one, with his life before him? What satisfaction was it to have +won first honors at the university? There was but one thing in the +world that made life worth living, and that was denied him. Perhaps +after he was gone she would love him. + +This thought brought remarkable consolation. He pictured to himself +her remorse when she heard the tragic news. He attended in spirit his +own funeral, and even saw her tears fall upon his still face. +Meanwhile he listened impatiently for the train. + +Instead of the distant rumble of the cars, he heard on the road below +the sound of a horse's hoofs, quickly followed by voices. Slipping +behind the embankment, he waited for the vehicle to pass. The horse +was evidently walking, and the voices came to him distinctly. + +"I'm not a coward--any s-such thing! We oughtn't to have c-come, in +the first place. I can't go with you. Please turn round, +C-Carter,--please!" + +There was no mistaking that high, childlike voice, with its faltering +speech. + +Sandy's gloomy frown narrowed to a scowl. What business had Annette +out there in the storm? Where was she going with Carter Nelson? + +He quickened his steps to keep within sight of the slow-moving buggy. + +"There's nothing out this road but the Junction," he thought, trying +to collect his wits. "Could they be taking the train there? He goes to +California in the morning, but where's he taking Nettie to-day? And +she didn't want to be going, either; didn't I hear her say it with her +own lips?" + +He moved cautiously forward, now running a few paces to keep up, now +crouching behind the bushes. Every sense was keenly alert; his eyes +never left the buggy for a moment. + +When the freight thundered up the grade, he stepped mechanically to +one side, keeping a vigilant eye on the couple ahead, and begrudging +the time he lost while the train went by. It was not until an hour +later that he remembered he had forgotten to commit suicide. + +Stepping back on the ties, he hurried forward. He was convinced now +that they meant to take the down train which would pass the Clayton +train at the Junction in half an hour. Something must be done to save +Annette. The thought of her in the city, at the mercy of the +irresponsible Carter, sent him running down the track. He waited until +he was slightly in advance before he descended abruptly upon them. + +Annette was sitting very straight, talking excitedly, and Carter was +evidently trying to reassure her. + +As Sandy plunged down the embankment, they started apart, and Carter +reached for the whip. Before he could urge the horse forward, Sandy +had swung himself lightly to the step of the buggy, and was leaning +back against the dash-board. He looked past Carter to Annette. She was +making a heroic effort to look unconcerned and indifferent, but her +eyelids were red, and her handkerchief was twisted into a damp little +string about her fingers. Sandy wasted no time in diplomacy; he struck +straight out from the shoulder. + +"If it's doing something you don't want to, you don't have to, Nettie. +I'm here." + +Carter stopped his horse. + +"Will you get down?" he demanded angrily. + +"After you," said Sandy. + +Carter measured his man, then stepped to the ground. Sandy promptly +followed. + +"And now," said Carter, "you'll perhaps be good enough to explain what +you mean." + +Sandy still kept his hand on the buggy and his eyes on Annette; when +he spoke it was to her. + +"If it's your wish to go on, say the word." + +The tearful young person in the buggy looked very limp and miserable, +but declined to make any remarks. + +"Miss Fenton and I expect to be married this evening," said Carter, +striving for dignity, though his breath came short with excitement. +"We take the train in twenty minutes. Your interference is not only +impudent--it's useless. I know perfectly well who sent you: it was +Judge Hollis. He was the only man we met after we left town. Just +return to him, with my compliments, and tell him I say he is a meddler +and a fool!" + +"Annette," said Sandy, softly, coming toward her, "the doctor'll be +wanting his coffee by now." + +"Let me pass," cried Carter, "you common hound! Take your foot off +that step or I'll--" He made a quick motion toward his hip, and Sandy +caught his hand as it closed on a pearl-handled revolver. + +"None of that, man! I'll be going when I have her word. Is it good-by, +Annette? Must I be taking the word to your father that you've left him +now and for always? Yes? Then a shake of the hand for old times' +sake." + +Annette slipped a cold little hand into his free one, and feeling the +solid grasp of his broad palm, she clung to it as a drowning man +clings to a spar. + +"I can't go!" she cried, in a burst of tears. "I can't leave dad this +way! Make him take me b-back, Sandy! I want to go home!" + +Carter stood very still and white. His thin body was trembling from +head to foot, and the veins stood out on his forehead like whip-cord. +He clenched his hands in an effort to control himself. At Annette's +words he stepped aside with elaborate courtesy. + +"You are at perfect liberty to go with Mr. Kilday. All I ask is that +he will meet me as soon as we get back to town." + +"I can't go b-back on the train!" cried Annette, with a glance at her +bags and boxes. "Every one would suspect something if I did. Oh, why +d-did I come?" + +"My buggy is at your disposal," said Carter; "perhaps your +disinterested friend, Mr. Kilday, could be persuaded to drive you +back." + +"But, Carter," cried Annette, in quick dismay, "you must come, too. +I'll bring dad r-round; I always do. Then we can be married at home, +and I can have a veil and a r-ring and presents." + +She smiled at him coaxingly, but he folded his arms and scowled. + +"You go with me to the city, or you go back to Clayton with him. You +have just three minutes to make up your mind." + +[Illustration: "Sandy saw her waver"] + +Sandy saw her waver. The first minute she looked at him, the second at +Carter. He took no chances on the third. With a quick bound, he was +in the buggy and turning the horse homeward. + +"But I've decided to go with Carter!" cried Annette, hysterically. +"Turn b-back, Sandy! I've changed my mind." + +"Change it again," advised Sandy as he laid the whip gently across the +horse's back. + +Carter Nelson flung furiously off to catch the train for town, while +the would-be bride shed bitter tears on the shoulder of the would-be +suicide. + +The snow fell faster and faster, and the gray day deepened to dusk. +For a long time they drove along in silence, both busy with their own +thoughts. + +Suddenly they were lurched violently forward as the horse shied at +something in the bushes. Sandy leaned forward in time to see a figure +on all fours plunging back into the shrubbery. + +"Annette," he whispered excitedly, "did you see that man's face?" + +"Yes," she said, clinging to his arm; "don't leave me, Sandy!" + +"What did he look like? Tell me, quick!" + +"He had little eyes like shoe-buttons, and his teeth stuck out. Do you +suppose he was hiding?" + +"It was Ricks Wilson, or I am a blind man!" cried Sandy, standing up +in the buggy and straining his eyes in the darkness. + +"Why, he's in jail!" + +"May I never trust me two eyes to speak the truth again if that wasn't +Ricks!" + +When they started they found that the harness was broken, and all +efforts to fix it were in vain. + +"It's half-past five now," cried Annette. "If I don't get home +b-before dad, he'll have out the fire department." + +"There's a farm-house a good way back," said Sandy; "but it's too far +for you to walk. Will you be waiting here in the buggy until I go for +help?" + +"Well, I guess not!" said Annette, indignantly. + +Sandy looked at the round baby face beside him and laughed. "It's not +one of meself that blames you," he said; "but how are we ever to get +home?" + +Annette was not without resources. + +"What's the matter with riding the horse b-back to the farm?" + +"And you?" asked Sandy. + +"I'll ride behind." + +They became hilarious over the mounting, for the horse bitterly +resented a double burden. + +When he found he could not dispose of it he made a dash for freedom, +and raced over the frozen road at such a pace that they were soon at +their destination. + +"He won the handicap," laughed Sandy as he lifted his disheveled +companion to the ground. + +"It was glorious!" cried Annette, gathering up her flying locks. "I +lost every hair-pin but one." + +At the farm-house they met with a warm reception. + +"Jes step right in the kitchen," said the farmer. "Mommer'll take +care of you while I go out to the stable for some rope and another +hoss." + +The kitchen was a big, cheerful room, full of homely comfort. Bright +red window-curtains were drawn against the cold white world outside, +and the fire crackled merrily in the stove. + +Sandy and Annette stood, holding out their hands to the friendly +warmth. She was watching with interest the preparations for supper, +but he had grown silent and preoccupied. + +The various diversions of the afternoon had acted as a temporary +narcotic, through which he struggled again and again to wretched +consciousness. A surge of contempt swept over him that he could have +forgotten for a moment. He did not want to forget; he did not want to +think of anything else. + +"They smell awfully g-good," whispered Annette. + +"What?" + +"The hoe-cakes. I didn't have any dinner." + +"Neither did I." + +Annette looked up quickly. "What were you d-doing out there on the +track, Sandy?" + +The farmer's wife fortunately came to the rescue. + +"Hitch up yer cheers, you two, and take a little snack afore you go +out in the cold ag'in." + +Annette promptly accepted, but Sandy declared that he was not hungry. +He went to the window and, pulling back the curtain, stared out into +the night. Was all the rest of life going to be like this? Was that +restless, nervous, intolerable pain going to gnaw at his heart +forever? + +Meanwhile the savory odor of the hoe-cakes floated over his shoulder +and bits of the conversation broke in upon him. + +"Aw, take two or three and butter 'em while they are hot. Long +sweetening or short?" + +"Both," said Annette. "I never tasted anything so g-good. Sandy, +what's the matter with you? I never saw you when you weren't hungry +b-before. Look! Won't you try this s-sizzly one?" + +Sandy looked and was lost. He ate with a coming appetite. + +The farmer's wife served them with delighted zeal; she made trip after +trip from the stove to the table, pausing frequently to admire her +guests. + +"I've had six," said Annette; "do you suppose I'll have time for +another one?" + +"Lemme give you _both_ a clean plate and some pie," suggested the +eager housewife. + +Sandy looked at her and smiled. + +"I'll take the clean plate," he said, "and--and more hoe-cakes." + +When the farmer returned, and they rode back to the buggy, Annette +developed a sudden fever of impatience. She fidgeted about while the +men patched up the harness, and delayed their progress by her fire of +questions. + +After they started, Sandy leaned back in the buggy, lost in the fog +of his unhappiness. Off in the distance he could see the twinkling +lights of Clayton. One was apart from the rest; that was Willowvale. + +A sob aroused him. Annette, left to herself, had collapsed. He +patiently put forth a fatherly hand and patted her shoulder. + +"There, there, Nettie! You'll be all right in the morning." + +"I won't!" she declared petulantly. "You don't know anything ab-b-bout +being in love." + +Sandy surveyed her with tolerant sadness. Little her childish heart +knew of the depths through which he was passing. + +"Do you love him very much?" he asked. + +She nodded violently. "Better than any b-boy I was ever engaged to." + +"He's not worth it." + +"He is!" + +A strained silence, then he said: + +"Nettie, could you be forgiving me if I told you the Lord's truth?" + +"Don't you suppose dad's kept me p-posted about his faults? Why, he +would walk a mile to find out something b-bad about Carter Nelson." + +"He wouldn't have to. Nelson's a bad lot, Nettie. It isn't all his +fault; it's the price he pays for his blue blood. Your father's the +wise man to try to keep you from being his wife." + +"Everyb-body's down on him," she sobbed, "just because he has to +d-drink sometimes on account of his lungs. I didn't know you were so +mean." + +"Will you pass the word not to see him again before he leaves in the +morning?" + +"Indeed, I won't!" + +Sandy stopped the horse. "Then I'll wait till you do." + +She tried to take the lines, but he held her hands. Then she declared +she would walk. He helped her out of the buggy and watched her start +angrily forth. In a few minutes she came rushing back. + +"Sandy, you know I can't g-go by myself; I am afraid. Take me home." + +"And you promise?" + +She looked appealingly at him, but found no mercy. "You are the very +m-meanest boy I ever knew. Get me home before d-dad finds out, and +I'll promise anything. But this is the last word I'll ever s-speak to +you as long as I live." + +At half-past seven they drove into town. The streets were full of +people and great excitement prevailed. + +"They've found out about me!" wailed Annette, breaking her long +silence. "Oh, Sandy, what m-must I do?" + +Sandy looked anxiously about him. He knew that an elopement would not +cause the present commotion. "Jimmy!" He leaned out of the buggy and +called to a boy who was running past. "Jimmy Reed! What's the matter?" + +Jimmy, breathless and hatless, his whole figure one huge +question-mark, exploded like a bunch of fire-crackers. + +"That you, Sandy? Ricks Wilson's broke jail and shot Judge Hollis. It +was at half-past five. Dr. Fenton's been out there ever since. They +say the judge can't live till midnight. We're getting up a crowd to go +after Wilson." + +At the first words Sandy had sprung to his feet. "The judge shot! +Ricks Wilson! I'll kill him for that. Get out, Annette. I must go to +the judge. I'll be out to the farm in no time and back in less. Don't +you be letting them start without me, Jimmy." + +Whipping the already jaded horse to a run, he dashed through the +crowded streets, over the bridge, and out the turnpike. + +Ruth stood at one of the windows at Willowvale, peering anxiously out +into the darkness. Her figure showed distinctly against the light of +the room behind her, but Sandy did not see her. + +His soul was in a wild riot of grief and revenge. Two thoughts tore at +his brain: one was to see the judge before he died, and the other was +to capture Ricks Wilson. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +IN THE DARK + + +An ominous stillness hung over Hollis farm as Sandy ran up the avenue. +The night was dark, but the fallen snow gave a half-mysterious light +to the quiet scene. + +He stepped on the porch with a sinking heart. In the dimly lighted +hall Mr. Moseley and Mr. Meech kept silent watch, their faces grave +with apprehension. Without stopping to speak to them, Sandy hurried to +the door of the judge's room. Before he could turn the knob, Dr. +Fenton opened it softly and, putting his finger on his lips, came out, +cautiously closing the door behind him. + +"You can't go in," he whispered; "the slightest excitement might +finish him. He's got one chance in a hundred, boy; we've got to nurse +it." + +"Does he know?" + +"Never has known a thing since the bullet hit him. He was coming into +the sitting-room when Wilson fired through the window." + +"The black-hearted murderer!" cried Sandy. "I could swear I saw him +hiding in the bushes between here and the Junction." + +The doctor threw a side glance at Mr. Meech, then said significantly: + +"Have they started?" + +"Not yet. If there's nothing I can do for the judge, I'm going with +them." + +"That's right. I'd go, too, if I were not needed here. Wait a minute, +Sandy." His face looked old and worn. "Have you happened to see my +Nettie since noon?" + +"That I have, doctor. She was driving with me, and the harness broke. +She's home now." + +"Thank God!" cried the doctor. "I thought it was Nelson." + +Sandy passed through the dining-room and was starting up the steps +when he heard his name spoken. + +"Mist' Sandy! 'Fore de Lawd, where you been at? Oh, we been habin' de +terriblest times! My pore old mas'r done been shot down wifout bein' +notified or nuthin'. Pray de Lawd he won't die! I knowed somepin' was +gwine happen. I had a division jes 'fore daybreak; dey ain't no luck +worser den to dream 'bout a tooth fallin' out. Oh, Lordy! Lordy! I +hope he ain't gwine die!" + +"Hush, Aunt Melvy! Where's Mrs. Hollis?" + +"She's out in de kitchen, heatin' water an' waitin' on de doctor. She +won't let me do nuthin'. Seems lak workin' sorter lets off her +feelin's. Pore Miss Sue!" She threw her apron over her head and swayed +and sobbed. + +As Sandy tried to pass, she stopped him again, and after looking +furtively around she fumbled in her pocket for something which she +thrust into his hand. + +"Hit's de pistol!" she whispered. "I's skeered to give it to nobody +else, 'ca'se I's skeered dey'd try me for a witness. He done drap it +'longside de kitchen door. You won't let on I found it, honey? You +won't tell nobody?" + +He reassured her, and hastened to his room. Lighting his lamp, he +hurriedly changed his coat for a heavier, and was starting in hot +haste for the door when his eyes fell upon the pistol, which he had +laid on the table. + +It was a fine, pearl-handled revolver, thirty-eight caliber. He looked +at it closer, then stared blankly at the floor. He had seen it before +that afternoon. + +"Why, Carter must have given Ricks the pistol," he thought. "But +Carter was out at the Junction. What time did it happen?" + +He sat on the side of the bed and, pressing his hands to his temples, +tried to force the events to take their proper sequence. + +"I don't know when I left town," he thought, with a shudder; "it must +have been nearly four when I met Carter and Annette. He took the train +back. Yes, he would have had time to help Ricks. But I saw Ricks out +the turnpike. It was half-past five, I remember now. The doctor said +the judge was shot at a quarter of six." + +A startled look of comprehension flashed over his face. He sprang to +his feet and tramped up and down the small room. + +"I know I saw Ricks," he thought, his brain seething with excitement. +"Annette saw him, too; she described him. He couldn't have even driven +back in that time." + +He stopped again and stood staring intently before him. Then he took +the lamp and slipped down the back stairs and out the side door. + +The snow was trampled about the window and for some space beyond it. +The tracks had been followed to the river, the eager searchers keeping +well away from the tell-tale footsteps in order not to obliterate +them. Sandy knelt in the snow and held his lamp close to the single +trail. The print was narrow and long and ended in a tapering toe. +Ricks's broad foot would have covered half the space again. He jumped +to his feet and started for the house, then turned back irresolute. + +When he entered his little room again the slender footprints had been +effaced. He put the lamp on the bureau, and looked vacantly about him. +On the cushion was pinned a note. He recognized Ruth's writing, and +opened it mechanically. + +There were only three lines: + + I must see you again before I leave. Be sure to come to-night. + +The words scarcely carried a meaning to him. It was her brother that +had shot the judge--the brother whom she had defended and protected +all her life. It would kill her when she knew. And he, Sandy Kilday, +was the only one who suspected the truth. A momentary temptation +seized him to hold his peace; if Ricks were caught, it would be time +enough to tell what he knew; if he escaped, one more stain on his name +might not matter. + +But Carter, the coward, where was he? It was his place to speak. Would +he let Ricks bear his guilt and suffer the blame? Such burning rage +against him rose in Sandy that he paced the room in fury. + +Then he re-read Ruth's note and again he hesitated. What a heaven of +promise it opened to him! Ruth was probably waiting for him now. +Everything might be different when he saw her again. + +All his life he had followed the current; the easy way was his way, +and he came back to it again and again. His thoughts shifted and +formed and shifted again like the bits of color in a kaleidoscope. + +Presently his restless eyes fell on an old chromo hanging over the +mantel. It represented the death-bed of Washington. The dying figure +on the bed recalled that other figure down-stairs. In an instant all +the floating forms in his brain assumed one shape and held it. + +The judge must be his first consideration. He had been shot down +without cause, and might pay his life for it. There was but one thing +to do: to find the real culprit, give him up, and take the +consequences. + +Slipping the note in one pocket and the revolver in another, he +hurried down-stairs. + +On the lowest step he found Mrs. Hollis sitting in the dark. Her hands +were locked around her knees, and hard, dry sobs shook her body. + +In an instant he was down beside her, his arms about her. "He isn't +dead?" he whispered fearfully. + +Mrs. Hollis shook her head. "He hasn't moved an inch or spoken since +we put him on the bed. Are you going with the men?" + +"I'm going to town now," said Sandy, evasively. + +She rose and caught him by the arm. Her eyes were fierce with +vindictiveness. + +"Don't let them stop till they've caught him, Sandy. I hope they will +hang him to-night!" + +A movement in the sick-room called her within, and Sandy hurried out +to the buggy, which was still standing at the gate. + +He lighted the lantern and, throwing the robe across his knees, +started for town. The intense emotional strain under which he had +labored since noon, together with fatigue, was beginning to play +tricks with his nerves. Twice he pulled in his horse, thinking he +heard voices in the wood. The third time he stopped and got out. At +infrequent intervals a groan broke the stillness. + +He climbed the snake-fence and beat about among the bushes. The groan +came again, and he followed the sound. + +At the foot of a tall beech-tree a body was lying face downward. He +held his lantern above his head and bent over it. It was a man, and, +as he tried to turn him over, he saw a slight red stain on the snow +beneath his mouth. The figure, thus roused, stirred and tried to sit +up. As he did so, the light from Sandy's lantern fell full on the +dazed and swollen face of Carter Nelson. The two faced each other for +a space, then Sandy asked him sharply what he did there. + +"I don't know," said Carter, weakly, sinking back against the tree. +"I'm sick. Get me some whisky." + +"Wake up!" said Sandy, shaking him roughly. "This is Kilday--Sandy +Kilday." + +Carter's eyes were still closed, but his lip curled contemptuously. +"_Mr._ Kilday," he said, and smiled scornfully. "The least said about +_Mr._ Kilday the better." + +Sandy laid a heavy hand on his shoulder. + +"Nelson, listen! Do you remember going out to the Junction with +Annette Fenton?" + +"That's nobody's business but mine. I'll shoot the--" + +"Do you remember coming home on the train?" + +Carter's stupid, heavy eyes were on Sandy now, and he was evidently +trying to understand what he was saying. "Home on the train? Yes; I +came home on train." + +"And afterward?" demanded Sandy, kneeling before him and looking +intently in his eyes. + +"Gus Heyser's saloon, and then--" + +"And then?" repeated Sandy. + +Carter shook his head and looked about him bewildered. + +"Where am I now I What did you bring me here for?" + +"Look me straight, Nelson," said Sandy. "Don't you move your eyes. You +left Gus Heyser's and came out the pike to the Hollis farm, didn't +you?" + +"Hollis farm?" Carter repeated vaguely. "No; I didn't go there." + +"You went up to the window and waited. Don't you remember the snow on +the ground and the light inside the window?" + +Carter seemed struggling to remember, but his usually sensitive face +was vacant and perplexed. + +Sandy moved nearer. "You waited there by the window," he went on with +subdued excitement, for the hope was high in his heart that Carter +was innocent. "You waited ever so long, until a pistol was fired--" + +"Yes," broke in Carter, his lips apart; "a pistol-shot close to my +head! It woke me up. I ran before they could shoot me again. Where was +it--Gus Heyser's? What am I doing here?" + +For answer Sandy pulled Carter's revolver from his pocket. "Did you +have that this afternoon?" + +"Yes," said Carter, a troubled look coming into his eyes. "Where did +you get it, Kilday?" + +"It was found outside Judge Hollis's window after he had been shot." + +"Judge Hollis shot! Who did it?" + +Sandy again looked at the pistol. + +"My God, man!" cried Carter; "you don't mean that I--" He cowered back +against the tree and shook from head to foot. "Kilday!" he cried +presently, seizing Sandy by the wrist with his long, delicate hands, +"does any one else know?" + +Sandy shook his head. + +"Then I must get away; you must help me. I didn't know what I was +doing. I don't know now what I have done. Is he--" + +"He's not dead yet." + +Carter struggled to his feet, but a terrible attack of coughing seized +him, and he sank back exhausted. The handkerchief which he held to his +mouth was red with blood. + +Sandy stretched him out on the snow, where he lay for a while with +closed eyes. He was very white, and his lips twitched convulsively. + +A vehicle passed out the road, and Sandy started up. He must take some +decisive step at once. The men were probably waiting in the square for +him now. He must stop them at any cost. + +Carter opened his eyes, and the terror returned to them. + +"Don't give me up, Kilday!" he cried, trying to rise. "I'll pay you +anything you ask. It was the drink. I didn't know what I was doing. +For the Lord's sake, don't give me up! I haven't long to live at +best. I can't disgrace the family. I--I am the last of the line--last +Nelson--" His voice was high and uncontrolled, and his eyes were +glassy and fixed. + +Sandy stood before him in an agony of indecision. He had fought it out +with himself there in his bedroom, and all personal considerations +were swept from his mind. All he wanted now was to do right. But what +was right? He groped blindly about in the darkness of his soul, and no +guiding light showed him the way. + +With a groan, he knotted his fingers together and prayed the first +real prayer his heart had ever uttered. It was wordless and formless, +just an inarticulate cry for help in the hour of need. + +The answer came when he looked again at Carter. Something in the +frenzied face brought a sudden recollection to his mind. + +"We can't judge him by usual standards; he's bearing the sins of his +fathers. We have to look on men like that as we do on the insane." +They were the judge's own words. + +Sandy jumped to his feet, and, helping and half supporting Carter, +persuaded him to go out to the buggy, promising that he would not give +him up. + +At the Willowvale gate he led the horse into the avenue, then turned +and ran at full speed into town. As he came into the square he found +only a few groups shivering about the court-house steps, discussing +the events of the day. + +"Where's the crowd?" he cried breathless. "Aren't they going to start +from here?" + +An old negro pulled off his cap and grinned. + +"Dey been gone purty near an hour, Mist' Sandy. I 'spec' dey's got dat +low-down rascal hanged by now." + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +AT WILLOWVALE + + +There was an early tea at Willowvale that evening, and Ruth sat at the +big round table alone. Mrs. Nelson always went to bed when the time +came for packing, and Carter was late, as usual. + +Ruth was glad to be alone. She had passed through too much to be able +to banish all trace of the storm. But though her eyes were red from +recent tears, they were bright with anticipation. Sandy was coming +back. That fact seemed to make everything right. + +She leaned her chin on her palm and tried to still the beating of her +heart. She knew he would come. Irresponsible, hot-headed, impulsive +as he was, he had never failed her. She glanced impatiently at the +clock. + +"Miss Rufe, was you ever in love?" It was black Rachel who broke in +upon her thoughts. She was standing at the foot of the table, her +round, good-humored face comically serious. + +"No-yes. Why, Rachel?" stammered Ruth. + +"I was just axin'," said Rachel, "'cause if you been in love, you'd +know how to read a love-letter, wouldn't you, Miss Rufe?" + +Ruth smiled and nodded. + +"I got one from my beau," went on Rachel, in great embarrassment; "but +dat nigger knows I can't read." + +"Where does he live?" asked Ruth. + +"Up in Injianapolis. He drives de hearse." + +Ruth suppressed a smile. "I'll read the love-letter for you," she +said. + +Rachel sat down on the floor and began taking down her hair. It was +divided into many tight braids, each of which was wrapped with a bit +of shoe-string. From under the last one she took a small envelope and +handed it to Ruth. + +"Dat's it," she said. "I was so skeered I'd lose it I didn't trust it +no place 'cept in my head." + +Ruth unfolded the note and read: + + "DEAR RACHEL: I mean biznis if you mean biznis send me fore + dollars to git a devorce. + + "_George_." + +Rachel sat on the floor, with her hair standing out wildly and anxiety +deepening on her face. + +"I ain't got but three dollars," she said. + +"I was gwine to buy my weddin' dress wif dat." + +"But, Rachel," protested Ruth, in laughing remonstrance, "he has one +wife." + +"Yes,'m. Pete Lawson ain't got no wife; but he ain't got but one arm, +neither. Whicht one would you take, Miss Rufe?" + +"Pete," declared Ruth. "He's a good boy, what there is of him." + +"Well, I guess I better notify him to-night," sighed Rachel; but she +held the love-letter on her knee and regretfully smoothed its crumpled +edges. + +Ruth pushed back her chair from the table and crossed the wide hall to +the library. + +It was a large room, with heavy wainscoting, above which simpered or +frowned a long row of her ancestors. + +She stepped before the one nearest her and looked at it long and +earnestly. The face carried no memory with it, though it was her +father. It was the portrait of a handsome man in uniform, in the full +bloom of a dissipated youth. Her mother had seldom spoken of him, and +when she did her eyes filled with tears. + +A few feet farther away hung a portrait of her grandfather, brave in a +high stock and ruffled shirt, the whole light of a bibulous past +radiating from the crimson tip of his incriminating nose. + +Next him hung Aunt Elizabeth, supercilious, arrogant, haughty. Ruth +recalled a tragic day of her past when she was sent to bed for +climbing upon the piano and pasting a stamp on the red-painted lips. + +She glanced down the long line: velvets, satins, jewels, and uniforms, +and, above them all, the same narrow face, high-arched nose, brilliant +dark eyes, and small, weak mouth. + +On the table was a photograph of Carter. Ruth sighed as she passed it. +It was a composite of all the grace, beauty, and weakness of the +surrounding portraits. + +She went to the fire and, sitting down on an ottoman, took two +pictures from the folds of her dress. One was a miniature in a small +old-fashioned locket. It was a grave, sweet, motherly face, singularly +pure and childlike in its innocence. Ruth touched it with reverent +fingers. + +"They say I am like her," she whispered to herself. + +Then she turned to the other picture in her lap. It was a cheap +photograph with an ornate border. Posed stiffly in a photographer's +chair, against a background which represented a frightful storm at +sea, sat Sandy Kilday. His feet were sadly out of focus, and his head +was held at an impossible angle by the iron rest which stood like a +half-concealed skeleton behind him. He wore cheap store-clothes, and a +turn-down collar which rested upon a ready-made tie of enormous +proportions. It was a picture he had had taken in his first new +clothes soon after coming to Clayton. Ruth had found it in an old book +of Annette's. + +How crude and ludicrous the awkward boy looked beside the elegant +figures on the walls about her! She leaned nearer the fire to get the +light on the face, then she smiled with a sudden rush of tenderness. + +The photographer had done his worst for the figure, but even an +unskilled hand and a poor camera had not wholly obliterated the +fineness of the face. Spirit, honor, and strength were all there. The +eyes that met hers were as fine and fearless as her own, and the +honest smile that hovered on his lips seemed to be in frank amusement +at his own sorry self. + +Ruth turned to see that the door was closed, then she put the picture +to her cheek, which was crimson in the firelight, and with hesitating +shyness gradually drew it to her lips and held it there. + +A noise of wheels in the avenue brought her to her feet with a little +start of joy. He had come, and she was possessed of a sudden desire to +run away. But she waited, with glad little tremors thrilling her and +her heart beating high. She was sure she heard wheels. She went to the +window, and, shading her eyes, looked out. A buggy was standing at the +gate, but no one got out. + +A sudden apprehension seized her, and she hurried into the hail and +opened the front door. + +"Carter," she called softly out into the night--"Carter, is it you?" + +There was no answer, and she came back into the hall and closed the +door. On each side of the door was a panel of leaded glass, and she +pressed her face to one of the little square panes, and peered +anxiously out. The light from the newel-post behind her emphasized the +darkness, so that she could distinguish only the dim outline of the +buggy. + +Twice she touched the knob before she turned it again; then she +resolutely gathered her long white dress in her hand, and passed down +the broad stone steps. The wind blew sharply against her, and the +pavement was cold to her slippered feet. + +"Carter," she called again and again--"Carter, is it you?" + +At the gate her scant supply of courage failed. Some one was in the +buggy, half lying, half sitting, with his face turned from her. She +looked back to the light in the cabin, where the servants would hear +if she called. Then the thought of any one else seeing Carter as she +had seen him before drove the fear back, and she resolutely opened the +gate and went forward. + +At her first touch Carter started up wildly and pushed her from him. +"You said you wouldn't give me up; you promised," he said. + +"I know it, Carter. I'll help you, dear. Don't be so afraid! Nobody +shall see you. Put your arm on my shoulder--there! Step down a little +farther!" + +With all her slight strength she supported and helped him, the keen +wind blowing her long, thin dress about them both, and the lace +falling back from her arms, leaving them bare to the elbow. + +Half-way up the walk he broke away from her and cried out: "I'll have +to go away. It's dangerous for me to stay here an hour." + +"Yes, Carter dear, I know. The doctor says it's the climate. We are +going early in the morning. Everything's packed. See how cold I am +getting out here! You'll come in with me now, won't you?" + +Coaxing and helping him, she at last succeeded in getting him to bed. +The blood on his handkerchief told its own story. + +She straightened the room, drew a screen between him and the fire, +and then went to the bed, where he had already fallen into a deep +sleep. Sinking on her knees beside him, she broke into heavy, silent +sobs. The one grief of her girlhood had been the waywardness of her +only brother. From childhood she had stood between him and blame, +shielding him, helping him, loving him. She had fought valiantly +against his weakness, but her meager strength had been pitted against +the accumulated intemperance of generations. + +She chafed his thin wrists, which her fingers could span; she tenderly +smoothed his face as it lay gray against the pillows; then she caught +up his hand and held it to her breast with a quick, motherly gesture. + +"Take him soon, God!" she prayed. "He is too weak to try any more." + +At midnight she slipped away to her own room and took off the dainty +gown she had put on for Sandy's coming. + +For long hours she lay in her great canopied bed with wide-open eyes. +The night was a noisy one, for there was a continual passing on the +road, and occasional shouts came faintly to her. + +With heavy heart she lay listening for some sound from Carter's room. +She was glad he was home. It was worse to sit up in bed and listen for +the wheels to turn in at the gate, to start at every sound on the +road, and to wait and wait through the long night. She could scarcely +remember the time when she had not waited for Carter at night. + +Once, long ago, she had confided her secret to one of her uncles, and +he had laughed and told her that boys would be boys. After that she +had kept things to herself. + +There was but one other person in the world to whom she had spoken, +and that was Sandy Kilday. As she looked back it seemed to her there +was nothing she had withheld from Sandy Kilday. Nothing? Sandy's face, +as she had last seen it, despairing, reckless, hopeless, rose before +her. But she had asked him to come back, she was ready to surrender, +she could make him understand if she could only see him. + +Why had he not come? The question multiplied itself into numerous +forms and hedged her in. Was he too angry to forgive her? Had her +seeming indifference at last killed his love? Why had he not sent her +a note or a message? He knew that she was to leave on the early train, +that there would be no chance to speak with her alone in the morning. + +A faint streak of misty light shone through the window. She watched it +deepen to rose. + +By and by Rachel came in to make the fire. She tiptoed to the bed and +peeped through the curtains. + +"You 'wake, Miss Rufe? Dey's been terrible goings on in town last +night! Didn't you hear de posse goin' by?" + +"What was it? What's the matter?" cried Ruth, sitting up in bed. + +"Dat jail-bird Wilson done shot Jedge Hollis. 'Mos' ebery man in town +went out to ketch him. Dey been gone all night." + +"Sandy went with them," thought Ruth, in sudden relief; then she +thought of the judge. + +"Oh, Rachel, is he dangerously hurt? Will he die?" + +"De las' accounts was mighty bad. Dey say de big doctors is a-comin' +up from de city to prode fer de bullet." + +"What made him shoot him? How could he be so cruel, when the dear old +judge is so good and kind to everybody?" + +"Jes pore white trash, dat Wilson," said Rachel, contemptuously, as +she coaxed the kindling into a blaze. + +Ruth got up and dressed. Beneath the deep concern which she felt was +the flutter of returning hope. Sandy's first duty was to his +benefactor. She knew how he loved the old judge and with what prompt +action he would avenge his wrong. She could trust him to follow honor +every time. + +"Some ob 'em 's comin' back now!" cried Rachel from the window. "I's +gwine down to de road an' ax 'em if dey ketched him." + +"Rachel, wait! I'm coming, too. Give me my traveling-coat--there on +the trunk. What can I put on my head? My hat is in auntie's room." + +Rachel, rummaging in the closet, brought forth an old white +tam-o'-shanter. "That will do!" cried Ruth. "Now, don't make any +noise, but come." + +They tiptoed through the house and out into the early morning. It was +still half dark, and the big-eyed poplars watched them suspiciously as +they hurried down to the road. Every branch and twig was covered with +ice, and the snow crackled under their feet. + +"I 'spec' it's gwine be summer-time where you gwine at, Miss Rufe," +said Rachel. + +"I don't care," cried Ruth. "I don't want to be anywhere in the world +except right here." + +"Dey're comin'," announced Rachel. "I hear de hosses." + +Ruth leaned across the top bar of the gate, her figure enveloped in +her long coat, and her white tam a bright spot in the half-light. + +On came the riders, three abreast. + +"Dat's him in de middle," whispered Rachel, excitedly; "next to de +sheriff. I's s'prised dey didn't swing him up--I shorely is. He's +hangin' down his head lak he's mighty 'shamed." + +Ruth bent forward to get a glimpse of the prisoner's face, and as she +did so he lifted his head. + +It was Sandy Kilday, his clothes disheveled, his brows lowered, and +his lips compressed info a straight, determined line. + +Ruth's startled gaze swept over the riders, then came back to him. She +did not know what was the matter; she only knew that he was in +trouble, and that she was siding with him against the rest. In the one +moment their eyes met she sent him her full assurance of compassion +and sympathy. It was the same message a little girl had sent years +ago over a ship's railing to a wretched stowaway on the deck below. + +The men rode on, and she stood holding to the gate and looking after +them. + +"Here comes Mr. Sid Gray," said Rachel. The approaching rider drew +rein when he saw Ruth and dismounted. + +"Tell me what's happened!" she cried. + +He hitched his horse and opened the gate. He, too, showed signs of a +hard night. + +"May I come in a moment to the fire?" he asked. + +She led the way to the dining-room and ordered coffee. + +"Now tell me," she demanded breathlessly. + +"It's a mixed-up business," said Gray, holding his numb hands to the +blaze. "We left here early in the night and worked on a wrong trail +till midnight. Then a train-man out at the Junction gave us a clue, +and we got a couple of bloodhounds and traced Wilson as far as +Ellersberg." + +"Go on!" said Ruth, shuddering. + +"You see, a rumor got out that the judge had died. We didn't say +anything before the sheriff, but it was understood that Ricks wouldn't +be brought back to town alive. We located him in an old barn. We +surrounded it, and were just about to fire it when Kilday came tearing +up on horseback." + +"Yes?" cried Ruth. + +"Well," he went on, "he hadn't started with us, and he had been riding +like mad all night to overtake the crowd. His horse dropped under him +before he could dismount. Kilday jumped out in the crowd and began to +talk like a crazy man. He said we mustn't harm Ricks Wilson; that +Ricks hadn't shot the judge, for he was sure he had seen him out the +Junction road about half-past five. We all saw it was a put-up job; he +was Ricks Wilson's old pal, you know." + +"But Sandy Kilday wouldn't lie!" cried Ruth. + +"Well, that's what he did, and worse. When we tried to close in on +Wilson, Kilday fought like a tiger. You never saw anything like the +mix-up, and in the general skirmish Wilson escaped." + +"And--and Sandy?" Ruth was leaning forward, with her hands clasped and +her lips apart. + +"Well, he showed what he was, all right. He took sides with that +good-for-nothing scoundrel who had shot a man that was almost his +father. Why, I never saw such a case of ingratitude in my life!" + +"Where are they taking him?" she almost whispered. + +"To jail for resisting an officer." + +"Miss Rufe, de man's come fer de trunks. Is dey ready?" asked Rachel +from the hall. + +Ruth rose and put her hand on the back of the chair to steady herself. + +"Yes; yes, they are ready," she said with an effort. "And, Rachel, +tell the man to go as quietly as possible. Mr. Carter must not be +disturbed until it is time to start." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +"THE SHADOW ON THE HEART" + + +Just off Main street, under the left wing of the court-house, lay the +little county jail. It frowned down from behind its fierce mask of +bars and spikes, and boldly tried to make the town forget the number +of prisoners that had escaped its walls. + +In a small front cell, beside a narrow grated window, Ricks Wilson had +sat and successfully planned his way to freedom. + +The prisoner who now occupied the cell spent no time on thoughts of +escape. He paced restlessly up and down the narrow chamber, or lay on +the cot, with his hands under his head, and stared at the grimy +ceiling. The one question which he continually put to the jailer was +concerning the latest news of Judge Hollis. + +Sandy had been given an examining trial on the charge of resisting an +officer and assisting a prisoner to escape. Refusing to tell what he +knew, and no bail being offered, he was held to answer to the grand +jury. For two weeks he had seen the light of day only through the +deep, narrow opening of one small window. + +At first he had had visitors--indignant, excited visitors who came in +hotly to remonstrate, to threaten, to abuse. Dr. Fenton had charged in +upon him with a whole battery of reproaches. In stentorian tones he +rehearsed the judge's kindness in befriending him, he pointed out his +generosity, and laid stress on Sandy's heinous ingratitude. Mr. +Moseley had arrived with arguments and reasons and platitudes, all +expressed in a polysyllabic monotone. Mr. Meech had come many times +with prayers and petitions and gentle rebuke. + +To them all Sandy gave patient, silent audience, wincing under the +blame, but making no effort to defend himself. All he would say was +that Ricks Wilson had not done the shooting, and that he could say no +more. + +A wave of indignation swept the town. Almost the only friend who was +not turned foe was Aunt Melvy. Her large philosophy of life held that +all human beings were "chillun," and "chillun was bound to act bad +sometimes." She left others to struggle with Sandy's moral welfare and +devoted herself to his physical comfort. + +With a clear conscience she carried to her home flour, sugar, and lard +from the Hollises' store-room, and sat up nights in her little cabin +at "Who'd 'a' Thought It" to bake dumplings, rolls, and pies for her +"po' white chile." + +Sandy felt some misgivings about the delicacies which she brought, and +one day asked her where she made them. + +"I makes 'em out home," she declared stoutly. "I wouldn't cook nuffin' +fer you on Miss Sue's stove while she's talkin' 'bout you lak she is. +She 'lows she don't never want to set eyes on you ag'in as long as she +lives." + +"Has the judge asked for me?" said Sandy. + +"Yas, sir; but de doctor he up and lied. He tol' him you'd went back +to de umerversity. De doctor 'lowed ef he tole him de trufe it might +throw him into a political stroke." + +Sandy leaned his head on his hand. "You're the only one that's stood +by me, Aunt Melvy; the rest of them think me a bad lot." + +"Dat's right," assented Aunt Melvy, cheerfully. "You jes orter hear de +way dey slanders you! I don't 'spec' you got a friend in town 'ceptin' +me." Then, as if reminded of something, she produced a card covered +with black dots. "Honey, I's gittin' up a little collection fer de +church. You gib me a nickel and I punch a pin th'u' one ob dem dots to +sorter certify it." + +"Have you got religion yet?" he asked as he handed her some small +change. + +Her expression changed, and her eyes fell. "Not yit," she acknowledged +reluctantly; "but I's countin' on comin' th'u' before long. I's done +j'ined de Juba Choir and de White Doves." + +"The White Doves?" repeated Sandy. + +"Yas, sir; de White Doves ob Perfection. We wears purple calicoes and +sets up wid de sick." + +"Have you seen Miss Annette?" + +"Lor', honey! ain't I tol' you 'bout dat? De very night de jedge was +shot, dat chile wrote her paw de sassiest letter, sayin' she gwine run +off and git married wif dat sick boy, Carter Nelson. De doctor headed +'em off some ways, and de very nex' day what you think he done? He put +dat gal in a Cafolic nunnery convent! Dey say she cut up scan'lous at +fust, den she sorter quiet down, an' 'gin to count her necklace, an' +make signs on de waist ob her dress, an' say she lak it so much she +gwine be a Cafolic nunnery sister herself. Now de doctor's jes +tearin' his shirt to git her out, he's so skeered she'll do what she +says." + +Sandy laughed in spite of himself, and Aunt Melvy wagged her head +knowingly. + +"He needn't pester hisseif 'bout dat. Now Mr. Carter's 'bout to die, +an' you's shut up in jail, she's done turnin' her 'tention on Mr. Sid +Gray. Dey ain't no blinds in de world big enough to keep dat gal from +shinin' her eyes at de boys!" + +"Is Carter about to die?" Sandy had become suddenly grave. + +"Yas, sir; so dey say. He's got somepin' that sounds lak tuberoses. +Him and Mrs. Nelson and Miss Rufe never did git to Californy. Dey +stopped off in Mobile or Injiany, I can't ricollec' which. He took de +fever de day dey lef', an' he ain't knowed nothin' since." + +After Aunt Melvy left, Sandy went to the window and leaned against the +bars. Below him flowed the life of the little town, the men going home +from work, the girls chattering and laughing through the dusk on +their way from the post-office. Every figure that passed, black or +white, was familiar to him. Jimmy Reed's little Skye terrier dashed +down the street, and a whistle sprang to his lips. + +How he loved every living creature in the place! For five years he had +been one of them, sharing their interests, part and parcel of the life +of the community. Now he was an outcast, an alien, as much a stranger +to friendly faces as the lad who had knelt long ago at the window of a +great tenement and had been afraid to be alone. + +"I'll have to go away," he thought wistfully. "They'll not be wanting +me here after this." + +It grew darker and darker in the gloomy room. The mournful voice of a +negro singing in the next cell came to him faintly: + + "We'll hunt no moah fo' de possum and de coon, + On de medder, de hill, an' de shoah. + We'll sing no moah by de glimmer ob de moon, + On de bench by de old cabin doah. + + "De days go by like de shadow on do heart, + Wid sorrer, wha' all wuz so bright; + De time am come when do darkies hab to part-- + Den, my ole Kaintucky home, good night." + +Sandy's arm was against the grating and his head was bowed upon it. +Through all the hours of trial one image had sustained him. It was of +Ruth, as he had seen her last, leaning toward him out of the +half-light, her brown hair blowing from under her white cap and her +great eyes full of wondering compassion. + +But to-night the darkness obscured even that image. The judge's life +still hung in the balance, and the man who had shot him lay in a +distant city, unconscious, waiting for death. Sandy felt that by his +sacrifice he had put the final barrier between himself and Ruth. + +With a childish gesture of despair, he flung out his arms and burst +into a passion of tears. The intense emotional impulse of his race +swept him along like a feather in a gale. His grief, like his joy, +was elemental. + +When the lull came at last, he pressed his hot head against the cold +iron grating, and his thoughts returned again and again to Ruth. He +thought of her tender ministries in the sick room, of her intense love +and loyalty for her brother. His whole soul rose up to bless her, and +the thought of what she had been spared brought him peace. + +Through days of struggle and nights of pain he fought back all +thoughts of the future and of self. + +These times were ever afterward a twilight-place in his soul, hallowed +and sanctified by the great revelation they brought him, blending the +blackness of despair with the white light of perfect love. Here his +thoughts would often turn even in the stress and strain of the daily +life, as a devotee stops on his busy round and steps within the dim +cathedral to gain strength and inspiration on his way. + +The next time Aunt Melvy came he asked for some of his law-books, and +from that on there was no more idling or dreaming. + +Among the volumes she brought was the old note-book in which the judge +had made him jot down suggestions during those long evening readings +in the past. It was full of homely advice, the result of forty years' +experience, and Sandy found comfort in following it to the letter. + +For the first time in his life he learned the power of concentration. +Seven hours' study a day, without diversion or interruption, brought +splendid results. He knew the outline of the course at the university, +and he forged ahead with feverish energy. + +Meanwhile the judge's condition was slowly improving. + +One afternoon Sandy sat at his table, deep in his work. He heard the +key turn in its lock and the door open, but he did not look up. +Suddenly he was aware of the soft rustle of skirts, and, lifting his +eyes, he saw Ruth. For a moment he did not move, thinking she must be +but the substance of his dream. Then her black dress caught his +attention, and he started to his feet. + +"Carter?" he cried--"is he--" + +Ruth nodded; her face was white and drawn, and purple shadows lay +about her eyes. + +"He's dead," she whispered, with a catch in her voice; then she went +on in breathless explanation: "but he told me first. He said, 'Hurry +back, Ruth, and make it right. They can come for me as soon as I can +travel. Tell Kilday I wasn't worth it.' Oh, Sandy! I don't know +whether it was right or wrong,--what you did,--but it was merciful: if +you could have seen him that last week, crying all the time like a +little child, afraid of the shadows on the wall, afraid to be alone, +afraid to live, afraid to die--" + +Her voice broke, and she covered her face with her hands. + +Sandy started forward, then he paused and gripped the chair-back +until his fingers were white. + +"Ruth," he said impatiently, "you'd best be going quick. It'll break +the heart of me to see you standing there suffering, unless I can take +you in me arms and comfort you. I've sworn never to speak the word; +but, by the saints--" + +"You may!" sobbed Ruth, and with a quick, timid little gesture she +laid her hands in his. + +For a moment he held her away from him. "It's not pity," he cried, +searching her face, "nor gratitude!" + +She lifted her eyes, as honest and clear as her soul. + +"It's been love, Sandy," she whispered, "ever since the first." + +[Illustration: "'It's been love, Sandy, ... ever since the first'"] + +Two hours later, when the permit came, Sandy walked out of the jail +into the court-house square. A crowd had collected, for Ruth had told +her story and the news had spread; public favor was rapidly turning in +his direction. + +He looked about vaguely, as a man who has gazed too long at the sun +and is blinded to everything else. + +"I've got my buggy," cried Jimmy Reed, touching him on the arm. "Where +do you want to go?" + +Sandy hesitated, and a dozen invitations were shouted in one breath. +He stood irresolute, with his foot on the step of the buggy; then he +pulled himself up. + +"To Judge Hollis," he said. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +THE PRIMROSE WAY + + +Spring and winter, and spring again, and flying rumors fluttered +tantalizing wings over Clayton. Just when it was definitely announced +that Willowvale was to be sold, Ruth Nelson returned, after a year's +absence, and opened the old home. + +Mrs. Nelson did not come with her. That excellent lady had concluded +to bestow her talents upon a worthier object. In her place came Miss +Merritt, a quiet little sister of Ruth's mother, who proved to be to +the curious public a pump without a handle. + +About this time Sandy Kilday returned from his last term at the +university, and gossip was busy over the burden of honors under which +he staggered, and the brilliance of the position he had accepted in +the city. In prompt contradiction of this came the shining new sign, +"Hollis & Kilday," which appeared over the judge's dingy little +office. + +Nobody but Ruth knew what that sign had cost Sandy. He had come home, +fresh from his triumphs, and burning with ambition to make his way in +the world,--to make a name for her to share, and a record for her to +be proud of. The opportunity that had been offered him was one in a +lifetime. It had taken all his courage and strength and loyalty to +refuse it, but Ruth had helped him. + +"We must think of the judge first, Sandy," she said. "While he lives +we must stay here; there'll be time enough for the big world after a +while." + +So Sandy gave up his dream for the present and tacked the new sign +over the office door with his own hand. + +The old judge watched him from the pavement. "That's right," he said, +rubbing his hands together with childish satisfaction; "that's just +about the best-looking sign I ever saw!" + +"If you ever turn me down in court I'll stand it on its head and make +my own name come first," threatened Sandy; and the judge repeated the +joke to every one he saw that day. + +It was not long until the flying rumors settled down into positive +facts, and Clayton was thrilled to its willow-fringed circumference. +There was to be a wedding! Not a Nelson wedding of the olden times, +when a special car brought grand folk down from the city, and the +townspeople stayed apart and eyed their fine clothes and gay behavior +with ill-concealed disfavor. This was to be a Clayton wedding for high +and low, rich and poor. + +There was probably not a shutter opened in the town, on the morning of +the great day, that some one did not smile with pleasure to find that +the sun was shining. + +Mrs. Hollis woke Sandy with the dawn, and insisted upon helping him +pack his trunk before breakfast. For a week she had been absorbed in +his nuptial outfit, jealously guarding his new clothes, to keep him +from wearing them all before the wedding. + +Aunt Melvy was half an hour late in arriving, for she had tarried at +"Who'd 'a' Thought It" to perform the last mystic rites over a +rabbit's foot which was to be her gift to the groom. + +The whole town was early astir and wore a holiday air. By noon +business was virtually abandoned, for Clayton was getting ready to go +to the wedding. + +Willowvale extended a welcome to the world. The wide front gates stood +open, the big-eyed poplars beamed above the oleanders and the myrtle, +while the thrushes and the redwings twittered and caroled their +greetings from on high. The big white house was open to the sunshine +and the spring; flowers filled every nook and corner; even the +rose-bush which grew outside the dining-room window sent a few +venturesome roses over the sill to lend their fragrance to those +within. + +And such a flutter of expectancy and romance and joy as pervaded the +place! All the youth of Clayton was there, loitering about the grounds +in gay little groups, or lingering in couples under the shadow of the +big porches. + +In the library Judge and Mrs. Hollis did the honors, and presented the +guests to little Miss Merritt, whose cordial, homely greetings +counteracted the haughty disapproval of the portraits overhead. + +Mr. Moseley rambled through the rooms, indulging in a flowing +monologue which was as independent of an audience as a summer brook. + +Mr. Meech sought a secluded spot under the stairway and nervously +practised the wedding service, while Mrs. Meech, tucked up for once in +her life, smiled bravely on the company, and thought of a little green +mound in the cemetery, which Sandy had helped her keep bright with +flowers. + +They were all there, Dr. Fenton slapping everybody on the back and +roaring at his own jokes; Sid Gray carrying Annette's flowers with a +look of plump complacency; Jimmy Reed constituting himself a bureau of +information, giving and soliciting news concerning wedding presents, +destination of wedding journey, and future plans. + +Up-stairs, at a hall window, the groom was living through rapturous +throes of anticipation. For the hundredth time he made sure the ring +was in the left pocket of his waistcoat. + +From down-stairs came the hum of voices mingled with the music. The +warm breath of coming summer stole through the window. + +Sandy looked joyously out across the fields of waving blue-grass to +the shining river. Down by the well was an old windmill, and at its +top a weather-vane. When he spied it he smiled. Once again he was a +ragged youngster, back on the Liverpool dock; the fog was closing in, +and the coarse voices of the sailors rang in his ears. In quick +flashes the scenes of his boyhood came before him,--the days on +shipboard, on the road with Ricks, at the Exposition, at Hollis Farm, +at the university,--and through them all that golden thread of romance +that had led him safe and true to the very heart of the enchanted land +where he was to dwell forever. + +"'Fore de Lawd, Mist' Sandy, ef you ain't fergit yer necktie!" + +It was Aunt Melvy who burst in upon his reverie with these ominous +words. She had been expected to assist with the wedding breakfast, but +the events above-stairs had proved too alluring. + +Sandy's hand flew to his neck. "It's at the farm," he cried in great +excitement, "wrapped in tissue-paper in the top drawer. Send Jim, or +Joe, or Nick--any of the darkies you can find!" + +"Send nuthin'," muttered Aunt Melvy, shuffling down the stairs. "I's +gwine myself, ef I has to take de bridal kerridge." + +Messengers were sent in hot haste, one to the farm and one to town, +while Jimmy Reed was detailed to canvass the guests and see if a white +four-in-hand might be procured. + +"The nearest thing is Mr. Meech's," he reported on his fourth trip +up-stairs; "it's a white linen string-tie, but he doesn't want to take +it off." + +"Faith, and he'll have to!" said Sandy, in great agitation. "Don't he +know that nobody will be looking at him?" + +Annette appeared at a bedroom door, a whirl of roses and pink. + +"What's the m-matter? Ruth will have a f-fit if you wait much longer, +and my hair is coming out of curl." + +"Take it off him," whispered Sandy, recklessly, to Jimmy Reed; and +violence was prevented only by the timely arrival of Aunt Melvy with +the original wedding tie. + +The bridal march had sounded many times, and the impatient guests were +becoming seriously concerned, when a handkerchief fluttered from the +landing and Sandy and Ruth came down the wide white steps together. + +Mr. Meech cleared his throat and, with one hand nervously fidgeting +under his coattail, the other thrust into the bosom of his coat, +began: + +"We are assembled here to-day to witness the greatest and most +time-hallowed institution known to man." + +Sandy heard no more. The music, the guests, the flowers, even his +necktie, faded from his mind. + +A sacred hush filled his soul, through which throbbed the vows he was +making before God and man. The little hand upon his arm trembled, and +his own closed upon it in instant sympathy and protection. + +"In each of the ages gone," Mr. Meech was saying with increasing +eloquence, "man has wooed and won the sweet girl of his choice, and +then, with the wreath of fairest orange-blossoms encircling her pure +brow, while yet the blush of innocent love crimsoned her cheek, led +her away in trembling joy to the hymeneal altar, that their names, +their interests, their hearts, might all be made one, just as two rays +of light, two drops of dew, sometimes meet, to kiss--to part no more +forever." + +Suddenly a loud shout sounded from the upper hall, followed by sounds +like the repeated fall of a heavy body. Mr. Meech paused, and all eyes +were turned in consternation toward the door. Then through the +stillness rang out a hallelujah from above. + +"Praise de Lawd, de light's done come! De darkness, lak de thunder, +done roll away. I's saved at last, and my name is done written in de +Promised Land! Amen! Praise de Lawd! Amen!" + +To part of the company at least the situation was clear. Aunt Melvy, +after seeking religion for nearly sixty years, had chosen this +inopportune time to "come th'u'." + +She was with some difficulty removed to the wash-house, where she +continued her thanksgiving in undisturbed exultation. + +Amid suppressed merriment, the marriage service was concluded, Mr. +Meech heroically foregoing his meteoric finale. + +Clayton still holds dear the memory of that wedding: of the beautiful +bride and the happy groom, of the great feast that was served indoors +and out, and of the good fellowship and good cheer that made it a gala +day for the country around. + +When it was over, Sandy and Ruth drove away in the old town surrey, +followed by such a shower of rice and flowers and blessings as had +never been known before. They started, discreetly enough, for the +railroad-station, but when they reached the river road Sandy drew +rein. Overhead the trees met in a long green arch, and along the +wayside white petals strewed the road. Below lay the river, dancing, +murmuring, beckoning. + +"Let's not be going to the city to-day!" cried Sandy, impulsively. +"Let's be following the apple-blossoms wherever they lead." + +"It's all the same wherever we are," said Ruth, in joyful freedom. + +They turned into the road, and before them, through the trees, lay the +long stretch of smiling valley. + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SANDY*** + + +******* This file should be named 14079.txt or 14079.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/4/0/7/14079 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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