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diff --git a/14581-h/14581-h.htm b/14581-h/14581-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c237abd --- /dev/null +++ b/14581-h/14581-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,9483 @@ +<!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 The Just and the Unjust, by Vaughan Kester</title> +<style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + 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: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + .linenum {position: absolute; top: auto; left: 4%;} /* poetry number */ + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%;} + .pagenum {position: absolute; left: 92%; font-size: smaller; text-align: right;} /* page numbers */ + .sidenote {width: 20%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em; margin-left: 1em; + float: right; clear: right; margin-top: 1em; + font-size: smaller; background: #eeeeee; border: dashed 1px;} + + .bb {border-bottom: solid 2px;} + .bl {border-left: solid 2px;} + .bt {border-top: solid 2px;} + .br {border-right: solid 2px;} + .bbox {border: solid 2px;} + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .figleft {float: left; clear: left; margin-left: 0; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: + 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .figright {float: right; clear: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 0; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .footnotes {border: dashed 1px;} + .footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + .footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + .fnanchor {vertical-align: super; font-size: .8em; text-decoration: none;} + + .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.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 14581 ***</div> +<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Just and the Unjust, by Vaughan Kester, +Illustrated by M. Leone Bracker</h1> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<div class="figcenter"><a href="images/001.jpg"><img src= +"images/001.jpg" width="40%" alt="" title="" /></a><br /> +<b>"Oh, I want you, Elizabeth!"</b> +<br /> +<br /> +</div> +<div> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<h1>THE JUST<br /> +AND THE UNJUST</h1> +</div> +<h4><i>By</i></h4> +<h2>VAUGHAN KESTER</h2> +<div class="center">Author of<br /> +<i>THE PRODIGAL JUDGE</i>, ETC.<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +ILLUSTRATIONS BY<br /> +<h3>M. LEONE BRACKER</h3> +<br /> +<h6>Indianapolis<br /> +The Bobbs-Merrill Company<br /> +Publishers</h6> +<br /> +<h4>1912</h4> +</div> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>TO MY WIFE</h2> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> +<div class="center"> +<table summary=""> +<tr> +<td>CHAPTER</td> +<td> </td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_ONE">I.</a></td> +<td><a href="#CHAPTER_ONE">FIGHTING SHRIMPLIN</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_TWO">II.</a></td> +<td><a href="#CHAPTER_TWO">THE PRICE OF FOLLY</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_THREE">III.</a></td> +<td><a href="#CHAPTER_THREE">STRANGE BEDFELLOWS</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_FOUR">IV.</a></td> +<td><a href="#CHAPTER_FOUR">ADVENTURE IN EARNEST</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_FIVE">V.</a></td> +<td><a href="#CHAPTER_FIVE">COLONEL GEORGE HARBISON</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_SIX">VI.</a></td> +<td><a href="#CHAPTER_SIX">PUTTING ON THE SCREWS</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_SEVEN">VII.</a></td> +<td><a href="#CHAPTER_SEVEN">THE BEAUTY OF ELIZABETH</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_EIGHT">VIII.</a></td> +<td><a href="#CHAPTER_EIGHT">A GAMBLER AT HOME</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_NINE">IX.</a></td> +<td><a href="#CHAPTER_NINE">THE STAR WITNESS</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_TEN">X.</a></td> +<td><a href="#CHAPTER_TEN">HUSBAND AND WIFE</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_ELEVEN">XI.</a></td> +<td><a href="#CHAPTER_ELEVEN">THE FINGER OF SUSPICION</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_TWELVE">XII.</a></td> +<td><a href="#CHAPTER_TWELVE">JOE TELLS HIS STORY</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_THIRTEEN">XIII.</a></td> +<td><a href="#CHAPTER_THIRTEEN">LIGHT IN DARKNESS</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_FOURTEEN">XIV.</a></td> +<td><a href="#CHAPTER_FOURTEEN">THE GAMBLER'S THEORY</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_FIFTEEN">XV.</a></td> +<td><a href="#CHAPTER_FIFTEEN">LOVE THAT ENDURES</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_SIXTEEN">XVI.</a></td> +<td><a href="#CHAPTER_SIXTEEN">AT HIS OWN DOOR</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_SEVENTEEN">XVII.</a></td> +<td><a href="#CHAPTER_SEVENTEEN">AN UNWILLING GUEST</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_EIGHTEEN">XVIII.</a></td> +<td><a href="#CHAPTER_EIGHTEEN">FATHER AND SON</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_NINETEEN">XIX.</a></td> +<td><a href="#CHAPTER_NINETEEN">SHRIMPLIN TO THE RESCUE</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_TWENTY">XX.</a></td> +<td><a href="#CHAPTER_TWENTY">THE CAT AND THE MOUSE</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_TWENTY_ONE">XXI.</a></td> +<td><a href="#CHAPTER_TWENTY_ONE">THE HOUSE OF CARDS</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_TWENTY_TWO">XXII.</a></td> +<td><a href="#CHAPTER_TWENTY_TWO">GOOD MEN AND TRUE</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_TWENTY_THREE">XXIII.</a></td> +<td><a href="#CHAPTER_TWENTY_THREE">THE LAST APPEAL</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_TWENTY_FOUR">XXIV.</a></td> +<td><a href="#CHAPTER_TWENTY_FOUR">THE LAST LONG DAY</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_TWENTY_FIVE">XXV.</a></td> +<td><a href="#CHAPTER_TWENTY_FIVE">ON THE HIGH IRON BRIDGE</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_TWENTY_SIX">XXVI.</a></td> +<td><a href="#CHAPTER_TWENTY_SIX">CUSTER'S IDOL FALLS</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_TWENTY_SEVEN">XXVII.</a></td> +<td><a href="#CHAPTER_TWENTY_SEVEN">FAITH IS RESTORED</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_TWENTY_EIGHT">XXVIII.</a></td> +<td><a href="#CHAPTER_TWENTY_EIGHT">THE LAST NIGHT IN JAIL</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_TWENTY_NINE">XXIX.</a></td> +<td><a href="#CHAPTER_TWENTY_NINE">AT IDLE HOUR</a></td> +</tr> +</table> +</div> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div> +<h1>THE JUST<br /> +AND THE UNJUST</h1> +</div> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_ONE" id="CHAPTER_ONE"></a>CHAPTER ONE</h2> +<h3>FIGHTING SHRIMPLIN</h3> +<p>Custer felt it his greatest privilege to sit of a Sunday morning +in his mother's clean and burnished kitchen and, while she washed +the breakfast dishes, listen to such reflections as his father +might care to indulge in.</p> +<p>On these occasions the senior Shrimplin, commonly called Shrimp +by his intimates, was the very picture of unconventional +ease-taking as he lolled in his chair before the kitchen stove, a +cracker box half filled with sawdust conveniently at hand.</p> +<p>As far back as his memory went Custer could recall vividly these +Sunday mornings, with the church bells ringing peacefully beyond +the windows of his modest home, and his father in easy undress, +just emerged from his weekly bath and pleasantly redolent of strong +yellow soap, his feet incased in blue yarn socks—white at toe +and heel—and the neckband of his fresh-starched shirt sawing +away at the lobes of his freckled ears. On these occasions Mr. +Shrimplin inclined to a certain sad conservatism as he discussed +with his son those events of the week last passed which had left +their impress on his mind. But what pleased Custer best was when +his father, ceasing to be gently discursive and becoming vigorously +personal, added yet another canto to the stirring epic of William +Shrimplin.</p> +<p>Custer was wholly and delightfully sympathetic. There was, he +felt, the very choicest inspiration in the narrative, always +growing and expanding, of his father's earlier career, before Mrs. +Shrimplin came into his life, and as Mr. Shrimplin delicately +intimated, tied him hand and foot. The same grounds of mutual +understanding and intellectual dependence which existed between +Custer and his father were lacking where Mrs. Shrimplin was +concerned. She was unromantic, with a painfully literal cast of +mind, though Custer—without knowing what is meant by a sense +of humor, suspected her of this rare gift, a dangerous and +destructive thing in woman. Privately considering her relation to +his father, he was forced to the conclusion that their union was a +most distressing instance of the proneness of really great minds to +leave their deep channels and seek the shallow waters in the +every-day concerns of life. He felt vaguely that she was narrow and +provincial; for had she not always lived on the flats, a region +bounded by the Square on the north and by Stoke's furniture factory +on the south? On the west the flats extended as far as civilization +itself extended in that direction, that is, to the gas house and +the creek bank, while on the east they were roughly defined by +Mitchell's tannery and the brick slaughter-house, beyond which +vacant lots merged into cow pastures, the cow pastures yielding in +their turn to the real country, where the level valley rolled up +into hills which tilted the great green fields to the sun.</p> +<p>Mrs. Shrimplin had been born on the flats, and the flats had +witnessed her meeting and mating with Shrimplin, when that +gentleman had first appeared in Mount Hope in the interest of +Whiting's celebrated tooth-powder, to the use of which he was not +personally committed. At that time he was also an itinerant +bill-poster and had his lodgings at Maxy Schaffer's Railroad Hotel +hard by the B. & O. tracks.</p> +<p>Mr. Shrimplin was five feet three, and narrow chested. A +drooping flaxen mustache shaded a sloping chin and a loose under +lip, while a pair of pale eyes looked sadly out upon the world from +the shadow of a hooked nose.</p> +<p>Mr. Joe Montgomery, Mrs. Shrimplin's brother-in-law, present on +the occasion of her marriage to the little bill-poster, had +critically surveyed the bridegroom and had been moved to say to a +friend, "Shrimp certainly do favor a peanut!"</p> +<p>Mr. Montgomery's comparative criticism of her husband's +appearance had in due season reached the ears of the bride, and had +caused a rupture in the family that the years had not healed, but +her resentment had been more a matter of justice to herself than +that she felt the criticism to be wholly inapt.</p> +<p>Mr. Shrimplin had now become a public servant, for certain +gasolene lamps in the town of Mount Hope were his proud and +particular care. Any night he could be seen seated in his high +two-wheeled cart drawn by a horse large in promise of speed but +small in achievement, a hissing gasolene torch held between his +knees, making his way through that part of the town where gas-lamps +were as yet unknown. He still further added to his income by +bill-posting and paper-hanging, for he belonged to the rank and +file of life, with a place in the procession well toward the +tail.</p> +<p>But Custer had no suspicion of this. He never saw his father as +the world saw him. He would have described his eye as piercing; he +would have said, in spite of the slouching uncertainty that +characterized all his movements, that he was as quick as a cat; and +it was only Custer who detected the note of authority in the meek +tones of his father's voice.</p> +<p>And Custer was as like the senior Shrimplin as it was possible +for fourteen to be like forty-eight. His mother said, "He certainly +looks for all the world like his pa!" but her manner of saying it +left doubt as to whether she rejoiced in the fact; for, while Mr. +Shrimplin was undoubtedly a hero to Custer, he was not and never +had been and never could be a hero to Mrs. Shrimplin. She saw in +him only what the world saw—a stoop-shouldered little man who +spent six days of the seven in overalls that were either greasy or +pasty.</p> +<p>It was a vagary of Mr. Shrimplin's that ten reckless years of +his life had been spent in the West, the far West, the West of +cow-towns and bad men; that for this decade he had flourished on +bucking broncos and in gilded bars, the admired hero of a variety +of deft homicides. Out of his inner consciousness he had evolved a +sprightly epic of which he was the central figure, a figure, +according to Custer's firm belief, sinister, fateful with big +jingling silver spurs at his heels and iron on his hips, whose +specialty was manslaughter.</p> +<p>In the creation of his romance he might almost be said to have +acquired a literary habit of mind, to which he was measurably +helped by the fiction he read.</p> +<p>Custer devoured the same books; but he never suspected his +father of the crime of plagiarism, nor guessed that his choicest +morsels of adventure involved a felony. Mrs. Shrimplin felt it +necessary to protest:</p> +<p>"No telling with what nonsense you are filling that boy's +head!"</p> +<p>"I hope," said Mr. Shrimplin, narrowing his eyes to a slit, as +if he expected to see pictured on the back of their lids the +panorama of Custer's future, "I hope I am filling his head with +just nonsense enough so he will never crawfish, no matter what kind +of a proposition he goes up against!"</p> +<p>Custer colored almost guiltily. Could he ever hope to attain to +the grim standard his father had set for him?</p> +<p>"I wasn't much older than him when I shot Murphy at Fort Worth," +continued Mr. Shrimplin, "You've heard me tell about him, +son—old one-eye Murphy of Texarcana?"</p> +<p>"He died, I suppose!" said. Mrs. Shrimplin, wringing out her +dish-rag. "Dear knows! I wonder you ain't been hung long ago!"</p> +<p>"Did he die!" rejoined Mr. Shrimplin ironically. "Well, they +usually die when I begin to throw lead!" He tugged fiercely at the +ends of his drooping flaxen mustache and gazed into the wide and +candid eyes of his son.</p> +<p>"Like I should give you the particulars, Custer?" he +inquired.</p> +<p>Custer nodded eagerly, and Mr. Shrimplin cleared his throat.</p> +<p>"He was called one-eye Murphy because he had only one +eye—he'd lost the other in a rough-and-tumble fight; it had +been gouged out by a feller's thumb. Murphy got the feller's ear, +chewed it off as they was rolling over and over on the floor, so +you might say they swapped even."</p> +<p>"I wonder you'd pick on an afflicted person like that," observed +Mrs. Shrimplin.</p> +<p>"Afflicted! Well, he could see more and see further with that +one eye than most men could with four!"</p> +<p>"I should think four eyes would be confusin'," said Mrs. +Shrimplin.</p> +<p>Mr. Shrimplin folded his arms across his narrow chest and +permitted his glance to follow Mrs. Shrimplin's ample figure as she +moved to and fro about the room; and when he spoke again a gentle +melancholy had crept into his tone.</p> +<p>"I dunno but a man makes a heap of sacrifices he never gets no +credit for when he marries and settles down. The ladies ain't what +they used to be. They look on a man now pretty much as a +meal-ticket. I guess if a feller chewed off another feller's ear in +Mount Hope he'd never hear the last of it!"</p> +<p>As neither Mrs. Shrimplin nor Custer questioned this point, Mr. +Shrimplin reverted to his narrative.</p> +<p>"I started in to tell you how I put Murphy out of business, +didn't I, son? The facts brought out by the coroner's jury," +embarking on what he conceived to be a bit of happy and elaborate +realism, "was that I'd shot him in self-defense after he'd drawed a +gun on me. He had heard I was at Fort Worth—not that I was +looking for trouble, which I never done; but I never turned it down +when any one was at pains to fetch it to me; I was always willing +they should leave it with me for to have a merry time. Murphy heard +I'd said if he'd come to Fort Worth I'd take him home and make a +pet of him; and he'd sent back word that he was looking for a man +with two ears to play with; and I'd said mine was on loose and for +him to come and pull 'em off. After that there was just one thing +he could do if he wanted to be well thought of, and he done it. He +hit the town hell-snorting, and so mad he was fit to be tied." Mr. +Shrimplin paused to permit this striking phrase to lay hold of +Custer's imagination. "Yes, sir, hell-snorting, and so bad he was +plum scairt of himself. He said he was looking for a gentleman who +had sent him word he had two ears to contribute to the evening's +gaiety, by which I knowed he meant me and was in earnest. He was +full of boot-leg whisky—"</p> +<p>"What kind of whisky's that, pa?" asked Custer.</p> +<p>"That," said Mr. Shrimplin, looking into the round innocent face +of his son, "that's the stuff the traders used to sell the Indians. +Strong? Well, you might say it was middling strong—just +middling—about three drops of it would make a rabbit spit in +a bulldog's face!"</p> +<p>It was on one memorable twenty-seventh of November that Mr. +Shrimplin reached this height of verbal felicity, and being +Thanksgiving day, it was, aside from the smell of strong yellow +soap and the fresh-starched white shirt, very like a Sunday.</p> +<p>He and Custer sat before the kitchen stove and in the intervals +of his narrative listened to the wind rise without, and watched the +sparse flakes of fine snow that it brought coldly out of the north, +where the cloud banks lay leaden and chill on the far horizon.</p> +<div class="figcenter"><br /> +<a href="images/016.jpg"><img src="images/016.jpg" width="45%" alt= +"" title="" /></a><br /> +<b>"I started to tell you how I put Murphy out of +business."</b> +<br /></div> +<p>Mr. Shrimplin had risen early that day, or, as he told Custer, +he had "got up soon", and long before his son had left his warm bed +in the small room over the kitchen, was well on his rounds in his +high two-wheeled cart, with the rack under the seat which held the +great cans of gasolene from which the lamps were filled. He had +only paused at Maxy Schaffer's Railroad Hotel to partake of what he +called a Kentucky breakfast—a drink of whisky and a chew of +tobacco—a simple dietary protection against the evils of an +empty stomach, to which he particularly drew Custer's +attention.</p> +<p>His father's occupation was entirely satisfactory to Custer. +Being employed by the town gave him an official standing, perhaps +not so distinguished as that of a policeman, but still eminently +worth while; and Mr. Shrimplin added not a little to the sense of +its importance by dilating on the intrigues of ambitious rivals who +desired to wrest his contract from him; and he impressed Custer, +who frequently accompanied him on his rounds, with the wisdom of +keeping the lamps that shone upon the homes of members of the town +council in especially good order. Furthermore, there were +possibilities of adventure in the occupation; it took Mr. Shrimplin +into out-of-the-way streets and unfrequented alleys, and, as Custer +knew, he always went armed. Sometimes, when in an unusually +gracious mood, his father permitted him to verify this fact by +feeling his bulging hip pocket. The feel of it was vastly pleasing +to Custer, particularly when Mr. Shrimplin had to tell of strangers +engaged in mysterious conversation on dark street corners, who +slunk away as he approached. More than this, it was a matter of +public knowledge that he had had numerous controversies in low +portions of the town touching the right of the private citizen to +throw stones at the street lamps; to Custer he made dire threats. +He'd "toss a scare into them red necks yet! They'd bust his lamps +once too often—he was laying for them! He knowed pretty well +who done it, and when he found out for sure—" He winked at +Custer, leaving it to his son's imagination to determine just what +form his vengeance would take, and Custer, being nothing if not +sanguinary, prayed for bloodshed.</p> +<p>But the thing that pleased the boy best was his father's account +of those meetings with mysterious strangers. How as he approached +they moved off with many a furtive backward glance; how he made as +if to drive away in the opposite direction, and then at the first +corner turned swiftly about and raced down some parallel street in +hot pursuit, to come on them again, to their great and manifest +discomfiture. Circumstantially he described each turn he made, down +what streets he drove Bill at a gallop, up which he walked that +trustworthy animal; all was elaborately worked out. The chase, +however, always ended one way—the strangers disappeared +unaccountably, and, search as he might, he could not find them +again, but he and Custer felt certain that his activity had +probably averted some criminal act.</p> +<p>In short, to Mr. Shrimplin and his son the small events of life +magnified themselves, becoming distorted and portentous. A man, +emerging suddenly from an alley in the dusk of the early evening, +furnished them with a theme for infinite speculation and varied +conjecture; that nine times out of ten the man said, "Hello, +Shrimp!" and passed on his way perfectly well known to the little +lamplighter was a matter of not the slightest importance. +Sometimes, it is true, Mr. Shrimplin told of the salutation, but +the man was always a stranger to him, and that he should have +spoken, calling him by name, he and Custer agreed only added to the +sinister mystery of the encounter.</p> +<p>It was midday on that twenty-seventh of November when Mr. +Shrimplin killed Murphy of the solitary eye, and he reached the +climax of the story just as Mrs. Shrimplin began to prepare the +dressing for the small turkey that was to be the principal feature +of their four-o'clock dinner. The morning's scanty fall of snow had +been so added to as time passed that now it completely whitened the +strip of brown turf in the little side yard beyond the kitchen +windows.</p> +<p>"I think," said Mr. Shrimplin, "we are going to see some +weather. Well, snow ain't a bad thing." His dreamy eyes rested on +Custer for an instant; they seemed to invite a question.</p> +<p>"No?" said Custer interrogatively.</p> +<p>"If I was going to murder a man, I don't reckon I'd care to do +it when there was snow on the ground."</p> +<p>Mrs. Shrimplin here suggested cynically that perhaps he dreaded +cold feet, but her husband ignored this. To what he felt to be the +commonplaceness of her outlook he had long since accustomed +himself. He merely said:</p> +<p>"I suppose more criminals has been caught because they done +their crimes when it was snowing than any other way. Only chance a +feller would have to get off without leaving tracks would be in a +balloon; I don't know as I ever heard of a murderer escaping in a +balloon, but I reckon it could be done."</p> +<p>He disliked to relinquish such an original idea, and the subject +of murderers and balloons, with such ramifications as suggested +themselves to his mind, occupied him until dinner-time. He quitted +the table to prepare for his night's work, and at five o'clock +backed wild Bill into the shafts of his high cart, lighted the +hissing gasolene torch, and mounted to his seat.</p> +<p>"I expect he'll want his head to-night; he's got a game look," +he said to Custer, nodding toward Bill. Then, as he tucked a horse +blanket snugly about his legs, he added: "It's a caution the way he +gets over the ground. I never seen a horse that gets over the +ground like Bill does."</p> +<p>Which was probably true enough, for Bill employed every known +gait.</p> +<p>"He's a mighty well-broke horse!" agreed Custer in a tone of +sincere conviction.</p> +<p>"He is. He's got more gaits than you can shake a stick at!" said +Mr. Shrimplin.</p> +<p>Privately he labored under the delusion that Bill was dangerous; +even years of singular rectitude on Bill's part had failed to alter +his original opinion on this one point, and he often told Custer +that he would have felt lost with a horse just anybody could have +driven, for while Bill might not and probably would not have suited +most people, he suited him all right.</p> +<p>"Well, good-by, son," said Mr. Shrimplin, slapping Bill with the +lines.</p> +<p>Bill went out of the alley back of Mr. Shrimplin's small barn, +his head held high, and taking tremendous strides that somehow +failed in their purpose if speed was the result desired.</p> +<p>Twilight deepened; the snow fell softly, silently, until it +became a ghostly mist that hid the town—hid the very houses +on opposite sides of the street, and through this flurry Bill +shuffled with unerring instinct, dragging Mr. Shrimplin from +lamp-post to lamp-post, until presently down the street a long row +of lights blazed red in the swirling smother of white.</p> +<p>Custer reëntered the house. The day held the sentiment of +Sunday and this he found depressing. He had also dined ambitiously, +and this he found even more depressing. He wondered vaguely, but +with no large measure of hope, if there would be sledding in the +morning. Probably it would turn warm during the night; he knew how +those things went. From his seat by the stove he watched the +hurrying flakes beyond the windows, and as he watched, the darkness +came down imperceptibly until he ceased to see beyond the four +walls of the room.</p> +<p>Mrs. Shrimplin was busy with her mending. She did not attempt +conversation with her son, though she occasionally cast a curious +glance in his direction; he was not usually so silent. All at once +the boy started.</p> +<p>"What's that?" he cried.</p> +<p>"La, Custer, how you startle a body! It's the town bell. I +should think you'd know; you've heard it often enough." As she +spoke she glanced at the clock on the shelf in the corner of the +room. "I guess that clock's stopped again," she added, but in the +silence that followed her words they both heard it tick.</p> +<p>The bell rang on.</p> +<p>"It ain't half past seven yet. Maybe it's a fire!" said Custer. +He quitted his chair and moved to the window. "I wish they'd give +the ward. They'd ought to. How's a body to know—"</p> +<p>"Set down, Custer!" commanded his mother sharply. "You ain't +going out! You know your pa don't allow you to go to no fires after +night."</p> +<p>"You don't call this night!" He was edging toward the door.</p> +<p>"Yes, I do!"</p> +<p>"A quarter after seven ain't night!" he expostulated.</p> +<p>"No arguments, Custer! You sit down! I won't have you trapesing +about the streets."</p> +<p>Custer turned back from the door and resumed his seat.</p> +<p>"Why don't they give the ward? I never heard such a fool way of +ringing for a fire!" he said.</p> +<p>They were silent, intent and listening. Now the wind was driving +the sound clamorously across the town.</p> +<p>"They ain't give the ward yet!" said Custer at length, in a tone +of great disgust. "I could ring for a fire better than that!"</p> +<p>"I wish your pa was to home!" said Mrs. Shrimplin.</p> +<p>As she spoke they caught the muffled sound of hurrying feet, +then the clamor of voices, eager and excited; but presently these +died away in the distance, and again they heard only the bell, +which rang on and on and on.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_TWO" id="CHAPTER_TWO"></a>CHAPTER TWO</h2> +<h3>THE PRICE OF FOLLY</h3> +<p>John North occupied the front rooms on the first floor of the +three-story brick structure that stood at the corner of Main Street +and the Square. The only other tenant on the floor with him was +Andy Gilmore, who had apartments at the back of the building. Until +quite recently Mr. North and Mr. Gilmore had been friends and boon +companions, but of late North had rather avoided this neighbor of +his.</p> +<p>Mount Hope said that North had parted with the major portion of +his small fortune to Gilmore. Mount Hope also said and believed, +and with most excellent justification for so doing, that North was +a fool—a truth he had told himself so many times within the +last month that it had become the utter weariness of iteration.</p> +<p>He was a muscular young fellow of twenty-six, with a handsome +face, and, when he chose, a kindly charming manner. He had +been—and he was fully aware of this—as idle and as +worthless as any young fellow could possibly be; he was even aware +that the worst Mount Hope said of him was much better than he +deserved. In those hours that were such a new experience to him, +when he denied himself other companionship than his own accusing +conscience; when the contemplation of the naked shape of his folly +absorbed him to the exclusion of all else, he would sit before his +fire with the poker clutched in his hands and his elbows resting on +his knees, poking between the bars of the grate, poking moodily, +while under his breath he cursed the weakness that had made him +what he was.</p> +<p>With his hair in disorder on his handsome shapely head, he would +sit thus hours together, not wholly insensible to a certain grim +sense of humor, since in all his schemes of life he had made no +provision for the very thing that had happened. He wondered +mightily what a fellow could do with his last thousand dollars, +especially when a fellow chanced to be in love and meditated +nothing less than marriage; for North's day-dream, coming like the +sun through a rift in the clouds to light up the somberness of his +solitary musings, was all of love and Elizabeth Herbert. He +wondered what she had heard of him—little that was good, he +told himself, and probably much that was to his discredit. Yet as +he sat there he was slowly shaping plans for the future. One point +was clear: he must leave Mount Hope, where he had run his course, +where he was involved and committed in ways he could not bear to +think of. To go meant that he would be forsaking much that was +evil; a situation from which he could not extricate himself +otherwise. It also meant that he would be leaving Elizabeth +Herbert; but perhaps she had not even guessed his secret, for he +had not spoken of love; or perhaps having divined it, she cared +nothing for him. Even so, his regeneration seemed in itself a thing +worth while. What he was to do, how make a place for himself, he +had scarcely considered; but his inheritance was wasted, and of the +comfortable thousands that had come to him, next to nothing +remained.</p> +<p>In the intervals between his musings Mr. North got together such +of his personal belongings as he deemed worth the removal; he was +surprised to find how few were the things he really valued. On the +grounds of a chastened taste in such matters he threw aside most of +his clothes; he told himself that he did not care to be judged by +such mere externals as the shade of a tie or the color of a pair of +hose. Under his hands—for the spirit of reform was strong +upon him—his rooms took on a sober appearance. He amused +himself by making sundry penitential offerings to the flames; +numerous evidences of his unrighteous bachelorhood disappearing +from walls and book-shelves. Coincident with this he owned to a +feeling of intense satisfaction. What remained he would have his +friend Marshall Langham sell after he was gone, his finances having +suddenly become of paramount importance.</p> +<p>But the days passed, and though he was not able to bring himself +to leave Mount Hope, his purpose in its final aspect underwent no +change. He lived to himself, and his old haunts and his old friends +saw nothing of him. Evelyn Langham, whom he had known before she +married his friend Marshall, was fortunately absent from town. Her +letters to him remained unanswered; the last one he had burned +unread. He was sick of the devious crooked paths he had trodden; he +might not be just the stuff of which saints are made, but there was +the hope in his heart of better things than he had yet known.</p> +<p>At about the time Mr. Shrimplin was attacking his Thanksgiving +turkey, North, from his window, watched the leaden clouds that +overhung the housetops. From the frozen dirt of the unpaved streets +the keen wind whipped up scanty dust clouds, mingling them with +sudden flurries of fine snow. Save for the passing of an occasional +pedestrian who breasted the gale with lowered head, the Square was +deserted. Staring down on it, North drummed idly on the +window-pane. What an unspeakable fool he had been, and what a price +his folly was costing him! As he stood there, heavy-hearted and +bitter in spirit, he saw Marshall Langham crossing the Square in +the direction of his office. He watched his friend's wind-driven +progress for a moment, then slipped into his overcoat and, +snatching up his hat, hurried from the room.</p> +<p>Langham, with Moxlow, his law partner, occupied two handsomely +furnished rooms on the first floor, of the one building in Mount +Hope that was distinctly an office building, since its sky-scraping +five stories were reached by an elevator. Here North found +Langham—a man only three or four years older than himself, +tall, broad-shouldered, with an oratorical air of distinction and a +manner that proclaimed him the leading young lawyer at the local +bar.</p> +<p>He greeted North cordially, and the latter observed that his +friend's face was unusually flushed, and that beads of perspiration +glistened on his forehead, which he frequently wiped with a large +linen handkerchief.</p> +<p>"What have you been doing with yourself, Jack?" he demanded, +sliding his chair back from the desk at which he was seated. "I +haven't had a glimpse of you in days."</p> +<p>"I have been keeping rather quiet."</p> +<p>"What's the matter? Liver out of whack?" Langham smiled +complacently.</p> +<p>"Worse than that!" North rejoined moodily.</p> +<p>"That's saying a good deal? What is it, Jack?"</p> +<p>But North was not inclined to lay bare his heart; he doubted if +Langham could be made to comprehend any part of his suffering.</p> +<p>"I am getting down to my last dollar, Marsh. I don't know where +the money went, but it's gone," he finally said.</p> +<p>Langham nodded.</p> +<p>"You have certainly had your little time, Jack, and it's been a +perfectly good little time, too! What are you going to do when you +are cleaned out?"</p> +<p>"That's part of the puzzle, Marsh, that's the very hell and all +of it."</p> +<p>"Well, you have had your fun—lots of it!" said Langham, +swabbing his face.</p> +<p>North noticed the embroidered initial in the corner of the +handkerchief.</p> +<p>"Fun! Was it fun?" he demanded with sudden heat.</p> +<p>"You took it for fun. Personally I think it was a pretty fair +imitation."</p> +<p>"Yes, I took it for fun, or mistook it; that's the pity of it! I +can forgive myself for almost everything but having been a +fool!"</p> +<p>"That's always a hard dose to swallow," agreed Langham. He was +willing to enter into his friend's mood.</p> +<p>"Have you ever tried to swallow it?" asked North.</p> +<p>"I can't say I have. Some of us haven't any business with a +conscience—our blood's too red. I've made up my mind that, +while I may be a man of moral impulses I am also a creature of +purest accident. It's the same with you, Jack. You are a pretty +decent fellow down under the skin; there's still the divine spark +in you, though perhaps it doesn't burn bright enough to warm the +premises. But it's there, like a shaft of light from a gem, a gem +in the rough—though I believe I'm mixing my metaphors."</p> +<p>"Why don't you say a pearl in the mire?"</p> +<p>"But that doesn't really take from your pearlship, though it may +dim your luster. No, Jack, the accidents have been to your morals +instead of your arms and legs. That's how I explain it in my own +case, and it's saved me many a bad quarter of an hour with myself. +I know I'd be on crutches if the vicissitudes of which I have been +the victim could be given physical expression."</p> +<p>"Marsh," said North soberly, "I am going away."</p> +<p>"You are going to do what, Jack?" demanded the lawyer.</p> +<p>"I am going to leave Mount Hope. I am going West for a bit, and +after I am gone I want you to sell the stuff in my rooms for me; +have an auction and get rid of every stick of the fool truck!"</p> +<p>"Why, what's wrong? Going away—when?"</p> +<p>"At once, to-morrow—to-night maybe. I don't know quite +when, but very soon. I want you to get rid of all my stuff, do you +understand? Before long I'll write you my address and you can send +me whatever it brings. I expect I'll need the money—"</p> +<p>"Why, you're crazy, man!" cried Langham.</p> +<p>North moved impatiently. He had not come to discuss the merit of +his plans.</p> +<p>"On the contrary I am having my first gleam of reason," he said +briefly.</p> +<p>"Of course you know best, Jack," acquiesced Langham after a +moment's silence.</p> +<p>"You'll do what I ask of you, Marsh?"</p> +<p>"Oh, hang it, yes." He hesitated for an instant and then said +'frankly. "You know I'm rather in your debt; I don't suppose five +hundred dollars would square what I have had from you first and +last."</p> +<p>"I hope you won't mention it! Whenever it is quite convenient, +that will be soon enough."</p> +<p>"Thank you, Jack!" said Langham gratefully. "The fact is the +pickings here are pretty small."</p> +<p>Again the lawyer mopped his brow and again North moved +impatiently.</p> +<p>"Don't say another word about it, Marsh," he repeated. "McBride +has agreed to take the last of my gas bonds off my hands; that will +get me away from here."</p> +<p>"How many have you left?" asked Langham curiously.</p> +<p>"Ten," said North.</p> +<p>Langham whistled.</p> +<p>"Do you mean to tell me you are down to that? Why, you told me +once you held a hundred!"</p> +<p>"So I did once, but it costs money to be the kind of fool I've +been! said North.</p> +<p>"Well, I suppose you are doing the sensible thing in getting out +of this. Have you any notion where you are going or what you'll +do?"</p> +<p>North shook his head.</p> +<p>"Oh, you'll get into something!" the lawyer encouraged. "When +shall you see McBride?"</p> +<p>"This afternoon. Why?"</p> +<p>"I was going to say that I was just there with Atkinson. He and +McBride have been in a timber speculation, and Atkinson handed over +three thousand dollars in cash to the old man. I suppose he has +banked it in some heap of scrap-iron on the premises!" said Langham +laughing.</p> +<p>"I think I shall go there now," resolved North. While he was +speaking he had moved to the door leading into the hail, and had +opened it.</p> +<p>"Hold on, John!" said Langham, detaining him. "Evelyn is home. +She came quite unexpectedly to-day; you won't leave town without +getting up to the house to see her?"</p> +<p>"I think I shall," replied North hastily. "I much prefer not to +say good-by."</p> +<p>"Oh, nonsense!" cried Langham.</p> +<p>"No, Marsh, I don't intend to say good-by to any one!" North +quietly turned back into the room.</p> +<p>"I had intended having you up to the house to-night for a +blow-out," urged Langham, but North shook his head. "You and +Gilmore, Jack; and by the way, this puts me in a nice hole! I have +already asked Gilmore, and he's coming. Now, how the devil am to +get out of it? I can't spring him alone on the family circle, and I +don't want to hurt his feelings!"</p> +<p>"Call it off, Marsh; say I couldn't come; that's a good enough +excuse to give Gilmore. Why, that fellow's a common card-sharp, you +can't ask Evelyn to meet him!"</p> +<p>A slight noise in the hall caused both men to glance toward the +door, where they saw just beyond the threshold the swarthy-faced +Gilmore.</p> +<p>There was a brief embarrassed silence, and then North nodded to +the new-comer, but the salutation was not returned.</p> +<p>"Well, good-by, Marsh!" he said, and turned to the door. As he +brushed past the gambler their eyes met for an instant, and in that +instant Gilmore's face turned livid with rage.</p> +<p>"I'll fix you for that, so help me God, I will!" he said, but +North made no answer. He passed down the hall, down the stairs, and +out into the street.</p> +<p>McBride's was directly opposite on the corner of High Street and +the Square; a mean two-story structure of frame, across the shabby +front of which hung a shabby creaking sign bearing witness that +within might be found: "Archibald McBride, Hardware and Cutlery, +Implements and Bar Iron." McBride had kept store on that corner +time out of mind.</p> +<p>He was an austere unapproachable old man, having no relatives of +whom any one knew; with few friends and fewer intimates; a rich +man, according to the Mount Hope standard, and a miser according to +the Mount Hope gossip, with the miser's traditional suspicion of +banks. It was rumored that he had hidden away vast sums of money in +his dingy store, or in the closely-shuttered rooms above, where the +odds and ends of the merchandise in which he dealt had accumulated +in rusty and neglected heaps.</p> +<p>The old man wore an air of mystery, and this air of mystery +extended to his place of business. It was dark and dirty and +ill-kept. On the brightest summer day the sunlight stole vaguely in +through grimy cobwebbed windows. The dust of years had settled deep +on unused shelves and, in abandoned corners, and whole days were +said to pass when no one but the ancient merchant himself entered +the building. Yet in spite of the trade that had gone elsewhere he +had grown steadily richer year by year.</p> +<p>When North entered the store he found McBride busy with his +books in his small back office, a lean black cat asleep on the desk +at his elbow.</p> +<p>"Good afternoon, John!" said the old merchant as he turned from +his high desk, removing as he did so a pair of heavy steel-rimmed +spectacles, that dominated a high-bridged nose which in turn +dominated a wrinkled and angular face.</p> +<p>"I thought I should find you here!" said North.</p> +<p>"You'll always find me here of a week-day," and he gave the +young fellow the fleeting suggestion of a smile. He had a liking +for North, whose father, years before, had been one of the few +friends he had made in Mount Hope.</p> +<p>The Norths had been among the town's earliest settlers, John's +grandfather having taken his place among the pioneers when Mount +Hope had little but its name to warrant its place on the map. At +his death Stephen, his only son, assumed the family headship, +married, toiled, thrived and finished his course following his wife +to the old burying-ground after a few lonely heart-breaking months, +and leaving John without kin, near or far, but with a good name and +fair riches.</p> +<p>"I have brought you those gas bonds, Mr. McBride," said North, +going at once to the purpose of his visit.</p> +<p>The old merchant nodded understandingly.</p> +<p>"I hope you can arrange to let me have the money for them +to-day," continued North.</p> +<p>"I think I can manage it, John. Atkinson and Judge Langham's +boy, Marsh, were just here and left a bit of cash. Maybe I can make +up the sum." While he was speaking, he had gone to the safe which +stood open in one corner of the small office.</p> +<p>In a moment he returned to the desk with a roll of bills in his +hands which he counted lovingly, placing them, one by one, in a +neat pile before him.</p> +<p>"You're still in the humor to go away?" he asked, when he had +finished counting the money.</p> +<p>"Never more so!" said North briefly.</p> +<p>"What do you think of young Langham, John? Will he ever be as +sharp a lawyer as the judge?"</p> +<p>"He's counted very brilliant," evaded North.</p> +<p>He rather dreaded the old merchant when his love of gossip got +the better of his usual reserve.</p> +<p>"I hadn't seen the fellow in months to speak to until to-day. +He's a clever talker and has a taking way with him, but if the half +I hear is true, he's going the devil's own gait. He's a pretty good +friend to Andy Gilmore, ain't he—that horse-racing, +card-playing neighbor of yours?" He pushed the bills toward North. +"Run them over, John, and see if I have made any mistake." He +slipped off his glasses again and fell to polishing them with his +handkerchief. "It's all right, John?" he asked at length.</p> +<p>"Yes, quite right, thank you." And North produced the bonds from +an inner pocket of his coat and handed them to McBride.</p> +<p>"So you are going to get out of this place, John? You're going +West, you say. What will you do there?" asked the old merchant as +he carefully examined the bonds.</p> +<p>"I don't know yet."</p> +<p>"I'm trusting you're through with your folly, John; that your +crop of wild oats is in the ground. You've made a grand +sowing!"</p> +<p>"I have," answered North, laughing in spite of himself.</p> +<p>"You'll be empty-handed I'm thinking, but for the money you take +from here."'</p> +<p>"Very nearly so."</p> +<p>"How much have you gone through with, John, do you mind +rightly?"</p> +<p>"Fifteen or twenty thousand dollars."</p> +<p>"A nice bit of money!" He shook his head and chuckled dryly. +"It's enough to make your father turn in his grave. He's said to me +many a time when he was a bit close in his dealings with me, 'I'm, +saving for my boy, Archie.' Eh? But it ain't always three +generations from shirt-sleeves to shirt-sleeves; you've made a +short cut of it! But you're going to do the wise thing, John; +you've been a fool here, now go away and be a man! Let all +devilishness alone and work hard; that's the antidote for idleness, +and it's overmuch of idleness that's been your ruin."</p> +<p>"I imagine it is," said North cheerfully.</p> +<p>"You'll be making a clever man out of yourself, John," McBride +continued graciously. "Not a flash in the pan like your friend +Marshall Langham yonder. It's drink will do for him the same as it +did for his grandfather, it's in the blood; but that was before +your time."</p> +<p>"I've heard of him; a remarkably able lawyer, wasn't he?"</p> +<p>"Pooh! You'll hear a plenty of nonsense talked, and by very +sensible people, too, about most drunken fools! He was a spender +and a profligate, was old Marshall Langham; a tavern loafer, but a +man of parts. Yes, he had a bit of a brain, when he was sober and +of a mind to use it."</p> +<p>One would scarcely have supposed that Archibald McBride, silent, +taciturn, money-loving, possessed the taste for scandal that North +knew he did possess. The old merchant continued garrulously.</p> +<p>"They are a bad lot, John, those Langhams, but it took the +smartest one of the whole tribe to get the better of me. I never +told you that before, did I? It was old Marshall himself, and he +flattered me into loaning him a matter of a hundred dollars once; I +guess I have his note somewhere yet. But I swore then I'd have no +more dealings with any of them, and I'm likely to keep my word as +long as I keep my senses. It's the little things that prick the +skin; that make a man bitter. I suppose the judge's boy has had his +hand in your pocket? He looks like a man who'd be free enough with +another's purse."</p> +<p>But North shook his head.</p> +<p>"No, no, I have only myself to blame," he said.</p> +<p>"What do you hear of his wife? How's the marriage turning out?" +and he shot the young fellow a shrewd questioning glance.</p> +<p>"I know nothing about it," replied North, coloring slightly.</p> +<p>"She'll hardly be publishing to the world that she's married a +drunken profligate—"</p> +<p>This did not seem to North to call for an answer, and he +attempted none. He turned and moved toward the front of the store, +followed by the old merchant. At the door he paused.</p> +<p>"Thank you for your kindness, Mr. McBride!"</p> +<p>"It was no kindness, just a matter of business" said McBride +hastily. "I'm no philanthropist, John, but just a plain man of +business who'll drive a close bargain if he can."</p> +<p>"At any rate, I'm going to thank you," insisted North, smiling +pleasantly. "Good-by," and he extended his hand, which the old +merchant took.</p> +<p>"Good-by, and good luck to you, John, and you might drop me a +line now and then just to say how you get on."</p> +<p>"I will. Good-by!"</p> +<p>"I know you'll succeed, John. A bit of application, a bit of +necessity to spur you on, and we'll be proud of you yet!"</p> +<p>North laughed as he opened the door and stepped out; and +Archibald McBride, looking through his dingy show-windows, watched +him until he disappeared down the street; then he turned and +reëntered his office.</p> +<p>Meanwhile North hurried away with the remnant of his little +fortune in his pocket. Five minutes' walk brought him to the +building that had sheltered him for the last few years. He climbed +the stairs and entered the long hail above. He paused, key in hand, +before his door, when he heard behind him a light footfall on the +uncarpeted floor and the swish of a woman's skirts. As he turned +abruptly, the woman who had evidently followed him up from the +street, came swiftly down the hall toward him.</p> +<p>"Jack!" she said, when she was quite near.</p> +<p>The short winter's day had brought an early twilight to the +place, and the woman was closely veiled, but the moment she spoke +North recognized her, for there was something in the mellow +full-throated quality of her speech which belonged only to one +voice that he knew.</p> +<p>"Mrs. Langham!—Evelyn!" he exclaimed, starting back in +dismay.</p> +<p>"Hush, Jack, you needn't call it from the housetops!" As she +spoke she swept aside her veil and he saw her face, a superlatively +pretty face with scarlet smiling lips and dark luminous eyes that +were smiling, too.</p> +<p>"Do you want to see me, Evelyn?" he asked awkwardly.</p> +<p>But she was neither awkward nor embarrassed; she was still +smiling up into his face with reckless eyes and brilliant lips. She +pointed to the door with her small gloved hand.</p> +<p>"Open it, Jack!" she commanded.</p> +<p>For a moment he hesitated. She was the one person he did not +wish to see, least of all did he wish to see her there. She was not +nicely discreet, as he well knew. She did many things that were not +wise, that were, indeed, frankly imprudent. But clearly they could +not stand there in the hallway. Gilmore or some of Gilmore's +friends might come up the stairs at any moment. Langham himself +might be of these.</p> +<p>Something of all this passed through North's mind as he stood +there hesitating. Then he unlocked the door, and standing aside, +motioned her to precede him into the room.</p> +<p>This room, the largest of several, he occupied, was his parlor. +On entering it he closed the door after him, and drew forward a +chair for Evelyn, but he did not himself sit down, nor did he +remove his overcoat.</p> +<p>He had known Evelyn all his life, they had played together as +children; more than this, though now he would have been quite +willing to forget the whole episode and even more than willing that +she should forget it, there had been a time when he had moped in +wretched melancholy because of what he had then considered her +utter fickleness. Shortly after this he had been sent East to +college and had borne the separation with a fortitude that had +rather surprised him when he recalled how bitter a thing her +heartlessness had seemed.</p> +<p>When they met again he had found her more alluring than ever, +but more devoted to her pleasures also; and then Marshall Langham +had come into her life. North had divined that the course of their +love-making was far from smooth, for Langham's temper was high and +his will arbitrary, nor was he one to bear meekly the crosses she +laid on him, crosses which other men had borne in smiling +uncomplaint, reasoning no doubt, that it was unwise to take her +favors too seriously; that as they were easily achieved they were +quite as easily forfeited. But Langham was not like the other men +with whom she had amused herself. He was not only older and more +brilliant, but was giving every indication that his professional +success would be solid and substantial. Evelyn's father had +championed his cause, and in the end she had married him.</p> +<p>In the five years that had elapsed since then, her romance had +taken its place with the accepted things of life, and she revenged +herself on Langham, for what she had come to consider his +unreasonable exactions, by her recklessness, by her thirst for +pleasure, and above all by her extravagance.</p> +<p>Through all the vicissitudes of her married life, the smallest +part of which he only guessed, North had seen much of Evelyn. There +was a daring dangerous recklessness in her mood that he had sensed +and understood and to which he had made quick response. He knew +that she was none too happy with Langham, and although he had been +conscious of no wish to wrong the husband he had never paused to +consider the outcome of his intimacy with the wife.</p> +<p>Evelyn was the first to break the silence.</p> +<p>"You wonder why I came here, don't you, Jack?" she said.</p> +<p>"You should never have done it!" he replied quickly.</p> +<p>"What about my letters, why didn't you answer them?" she +demanded. "I hadn't one word from you in weeks. It quite spoiled my +trip East. What was I to think? And then you sent me just a line +saying you were leaving Mount Hope—" she drew in her breath +sharply. There was a brief silence. "Why?" she asked at length.</p> +<p>"It is better that I should," he answered awkwardly.</p> +<p>He felt a sudden remorseful tenderness for her; he wished that +she might have divined the change that had come over him; even how +worthless a thing his devotion had been, the utter selfishness of +it.</p> +<p>"Why is it better?" she asked. He was near enough for her to put +out a small hand and rest it on his arm. "Jack, have I done +anything to make you hate me? Don't you care any longer for +me?"</p> +<p>"I care a great deal, Evelyn. I want you to think the best of +me."</p> +<p>"But why do you go? And when do you think of going, Jack?" The +hand that she had rested there a moment before, left his arm and +dropped at her side.</p> +<p>"I don't know yet, my plans are very uncertain. I am quite at +the end of my money. I have been a good deal of a fool, +Evelyn."</p> +<p>Something in his manner restrained her, she was not so sure as +she had been of her hold on him. She looked up appealingly into his +face, the smile had left her lips and her eyes were sad, but he +mistrusted the genuineness of this swift change of mood, certainly +its permanence.</p> +<p>"What will there be left for me, Jack, when you go? I +thought—I thought—" her full lips quivered.</p> +<p>She was realizing that this separation which her imagination had +already invested with a tragic significance, meant much less to him +than she believed it would mean to her; more than this, the cruel +suspicion was certifying itself that in her absence from Mount +Hope, North had undergone some strange transformation; was no +longer the reckless, dissipated, young fellow who for months had +been as her very shadow.</p> +<p>"I am going to-night, Evelyn," he said with sudden +determination.</p> +<p>She gave a half smothered cry.</p> +<p>"To-night! To-night!" she repeated.</p> +<p>He changed his position uncomfortably.</p> +<p>"I am at the end of my string, Evelyn," he said slowly.</p> +<p>"I—I shall miss you dreadfully, Jack! You know I am +frightfully unhappy; what will it be when you go? Marsh has made a +perfect wreck of my life!"</p> +<p>"Nonsense, Evelyn!" he replied bruskly. "You must be careful +what you say to me!"</p> +<p>"I haven't been careful before!" she asserted.</p> +<p>He bit his lips. She went swiftly on.</p> +<p>"I have told you everything! I don't care what happens to +me—you know I don't, Jack! I am deadly desperately tired!" +She paused, then she cried vehemently. "One endures a situation as +long as one can, but there comes a time when it is impossible to go +on with the falsehood any longer, and I have reached that time! It +is my life, my happiness that are at stake!"</p> +<p>"Sometimes it is better to do without happiness," he +philosophized.</p> +<p>"That is silly, Jack, no one believes that sort of thing any +more; but it is good to teach to women and children, it saves a lot +of bother, I suppose. But men take their happiness regardless of +the rights of others!"</p> +<p>"Not always," he said.</p> +<p>"Yes, always!" she insisted.</p> +<p>"But you knew what Marsh was before you married him."</p> +<p>"It's a woman's vanity to believe she can reform, can control a +man." She glanced at him furtively. What had happened to change +him? Always until now he had responded to the recklessness of her +mood, he had seemed to understand her without the need of words. +Her brows met in an angry frown. Was he a coward? Did he fear +Marshall Langham? Once more she rested her hand on his arm. "Jack, +dear Jack, are <i>you</i> going to fail me, too?"</p> +<p>"What would you have me say or do, Evelyn?" he demanded +impatiently.</p> +<p>She regarded him sadly.</p> +<p>"What has made you change, Jack? What is it; what have I done? +Why did you not answer my letters? Why did you not come to see +me?"</p> +<p>"I only learned that you were in town this afternoon," he +said.</p> +<p>"Yes, but you had no intention of coming, I know you hadn't! You +would have left Mount Hope without even a good-by to me!"</p> +<p>"It is hard enough to have to go, Evelyn!"</p> +<p>"It isn't that, Jack. What have I done? How have I displeased +you?"</p> +<p>"You haven't displeased me, Evelyn," he faltered.</p> +<p>"Then why have you treated me as you have?"</p> +<p>"I thought it would be easier," he said.</p> +<p>"Have you forgotten what friends we were once?" she asked +softly. "You always helped me out of my difficulties then, and you +told me once that you cared—a great deal for me, more than +you should ever care for any woman!"</p> +<p>"Yes," he answered shortly, and was silent.</p> +<p>He would scarcely have admitted to himself how foolish his early +passion had been, for it was at least sincere and there could have +been no sacrifice, at one time, that he would not have willingly +made for her sake. His later sentiment for her had been a +disgracing and a disgraceful thing, and he was glad to think of +this boyish love, since it carried him back to a time before he had +wrought only misery for himself. She misunderstood his reticence, +she could not realize that she had lost the power that had once +been hers.</p> +<p>"What a mistake I made, Jack!" she cried, and stretched out her +hands toward him.</p> +<p>He fell back a step.</p> +<p>"Nonsense!" he said. He glanced sharply at her.</p> +<p>"How stupid you are!" she exclaimed.</p> +<p>She half rose from her chair with her hands still extended +toward him. For a moment he met her glance, and then, disgusted and +ashamed, withdrew his eyes from hers.</p> +<p>Evelyn sank back in her chair, and her face turned white and she +covered it with her hands. North was the first to break the +silence.</p> +<p>"We would both of us better forget this," he said quietly.</p> +<p>She rose and stood at his side. The color had returned to her +cheeks.</p> +<p>"What a fool you are, John North!" she jeered softly. "And I +might have made the tragic mistake of really caring for you!" She +gave a little shiver of dismay, and then after a moment's tense +silence: "What a boy you are,—almost as much of a boy as when +we used to play together."</p> +<p>"I think there is nothing more to say, Evelyn," North said +shortly. "It is growing late. You must not be seen leaving +here!"</p> +<p>She laughed.</p> +<p>"Oh, it would take a great deal to compromise me; though if +Marsh ever finds out that I have been here he'll be ready to kill +me!" But she still lingered, still seemed to invite.</p> +<p>North was silent.</p> +<p>"You must be in love, Jack! You see, I'll not grant that you are +the saint you'd have me think you! Yes, you are in love!" for he +colored angrily at her words. "Is it—"</p> +<p>He interrupted her harshly.</p> +<p>"Don't speak her name!"</p> +<p>"Then it is true! I'd heard that you were, but I did not believe +it! Yes, you are right, we must forget that I came here +to-day."</p> +<p>While she was speaking she had moved toward the door, and +instinctively he had stepped past her to open it. When he turned +with his hand on the knob, it brought them again face to face. The +smile had left her lips, they were mere delicate lines of color. +She raised herself on tiptoe and her face, gray-white, was very +close to his.</p> +<p>"What a fool you are, Jack, what a coward you must be!" and she +struck him on the cheek with her gloved hand. "You <i>are</i> a +coward!" she cried.</p> +<p>His face grew as white as her own, and he did not trust himself +to speak. She gave him a last contemptuous glance and drew her +veil.</p> +<p>"Now open the door," she said insolently.</p> +<p>He did so, and she brushed past him swiftly and stepped out into +the long hall. For a moment North stood staring after her, and then +he closed the door.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_THREE" id="CHAPTER_THREE"></a>CHAPTER +THREE</h2> +<h3>STRANGE BEDFELLOWS</h3> +<p>When North quitted Marshall Langham's office, Gilmore, after a +brief instant of irresolution, stepped into the room. He was +crudely, handsome, a powerfully-built man of about Langham's own +age, swarthy-faced and with ruthless lips showing red under a black +waxed mustache. His hat was inclined at a "sporty" angle and the +cigar which he held firmly between his strong even teeth was tilted +in the same direction, imparting a rakish touch to Mr. Gilmore's +otherwise sturdy and aggressive presence.</p> +<p>"Howdy, Marsh!" said his new-comer easily.</p> +<p>From his seat before his desk Langham scowled across at him.</p> +<p>"What the devil brings you here, Andy?" he asked, ungraciously +enough.</p> +<p>Gilmore buried his hands deep in his trousers pockets and with +one eye half closed surveyed the lawyer over the tip of his tilted +cigar.</p> +<p>"You're a civil cuss, Marsh," he said lightly, "but one wouldn't +always know it. Ain't I a client, ain't I a friend,—and damn +it all, man, ain't I a creditor? There are three excuses, any one +of which is: sufficient to bring me into your esteemed +presence!"</p> +<p>"We may as well omit the first," growled Langham, wheeling his +chair back from the desk and facing Gilmore.</p> +<p>"Why?" asked Gilmore, lazily tolerant of the other's mood.</p> +<p>"Because there is nothing more that I can do for you," said +Langham shortly.</p> +<p>"Oh, yes there is, Marsh, there's a whole lot more you can do +for me. There's Moxlow, the distinguished prosecuting attorney; +without you to talk sense to him he's liable to listen to all sorts +of queer people who take more interest in my affairs than is good +for them; but as long as he's got you at his elbow he won't forget +my little stake in his election."</p> +<p>"If you wish him not to forget it, you'd better not be so +particular in reminding him of it; he'll get sick of you and your +concerns!" retorted Langham.</p> +<p>Gilmore laughed.</p> +<p>"I ain't going to remind him of it; what have I got you for, +Marsh? It's your job." He took a step nearer Langham while his +black brows met in a sullen frown. "I know I ain't popular here in +Mount Hope, I know there are plenty of people who'd like to see me +run out of town; but I'm no quitter, they'll find. It suits me to +stay here, and they can't touch me if Moxlow won't have it. That's +your job, that's what I hire you for, Marsh; you're Moxlow's +partner, you're your father's son, it's up to you to see I ain't +interfered with. Don't tell me you can't do anything more for me. I +won't have it!"</p> +<p>Langham's face was red, and his eyes blazed angrily, but Gilmore +met his glance with a look of stern insistence that could not be +misunderstood.</p> +<p>"I have done what I could for you," the lawyer said at last, +choking down his rage.</p> +<p>"Oh, go to hell! You know you haven't hurt yourself," said +Gilmore insolently.</p> +<p>"Well, then, why do you come here?" demanded Langham.</p> +<p>"Same old business, Marsh." He lounged across the room and +dropped, yawning, into a chair near the window.</p> +<p>There was silence between them for a little space. Langham +fussed with the papers on his desk, while Gilmore squinted at him +over the end of his cigar.</p> +<p>"Same old business, Marsh!" Gilmore repeated lazily. "What's the +enemy up to, anyhow? Are the good people of Mount Hope worrying +Moxlow? Is their sleepless activity going to interfere with my +sleepless profession, eh? Can you answer me that?"</p> +<p>"Moxlow has cut the office of late," said Langham briefly.</p> +<p>"He's happened on a good thing in the prosecuting attorney's +office, I suppose? It's a pity you didn't strike out for that, +Marsh; you'd have been of some use to your friends if you'd got the +job."</p> +<p>"Not necessarily," said Langham.</p> +<p>"Well, when's Moxlow going after me?" inquired Gilmore.</p> +<p>"I, haven't heard him say. He told me he had sufficient evidence +for your indictment."</p> +<p>"Yes, of course," agreed Gilmore placidly.</p> +<p>"I guess yours is a case for the next grand jury!"</p> +<p>"So Moxlow's in earnest about wishing to make trouble for me?" +said Gilmore, still placidly.</p> +<p>"Oh, he's in earnest, all right." Langham shrugged his shoulders +petulantly. "He'll go after you, and perhaps by the time he's done +with you you'll wish you'd taken my advice and made yourself +scarce!"</p> +<p>"I'm no quitter!" rejoined Gilmore, chewing thoughtfully at the +end of his cigar.</p> +<p>"By all means stay in Mount Hope if you think it's worth your +while," said Langham indifferently.</p> +<p>"Can you give me some definite idea as to when the fun +begins?"</p> +<p>"No, but it will be soon enough, Andy. He wants the support of +the best element. He can't afford to offend it."</p> +<p>"And he knows you are my lawyer?" asked Gilmore still +thoughtfully.</p> +<p>"Of course."</p> +<p>"Ain't that going to cut any figure with him?"</p> +<p>"Certainly not."</p> +<p>"Is that so, Marsh?" He crossed his legs and nursed an ankle +with both hands. "Well, somebody ought to lose Moxlow,—take +him out and forget to find him again. He's much too good for this +world; it ain't natural. He's about the only man of his age in +Mount Hope who ain't drifted into my rooms at one time or another." +He paused and took the cigar from between his teeth. "You call him +off, Marsh, make him agree to let me alone; ain't there such a +thing as friendship in this profession of yours?"</p> +<p>Langham shook his head, and again Gilmore's black brows met in a +frown. He made a contemptuous gesture.</p> +<p>"You're a hell of a lawyer!" he sneered.</p> +<p>"Be careful what you say to me!" cried Langham, suddenly giving +way to the feeling of rage that until now he had held in check.</p> +<p>"Oh, I'm careful enough. I guess if you stop to think a minute +you'll understand you got to take what I choose to say as I choose +to say it!"</p> +<p>Langham sprang to his feet shaking with anger.</p> +<p>"No, by—" he began hoarsely.</p> +<p>"Sit down," said Gilmore coldly. "You can't afford to row with +me; anyhow, I ain't going to row with you. I'll tell you what I +think of you and what I expect of you, so sit down!"</p> +<p>There was a long pause. Gilmore gazed out the window. He seemed +to watch the hurrying snowflakes with no interest in Langham who +was still standing by his desk, with one shaking hand resting on +the back of his chair. Presently the lawyer resumed his seat and +Gilmore turned toward him.</p> +<p>"Don't talk about my quitting here, Marsh," he said menacingly. +"That's the kind of legal advice I won't have from you or any one +else."</p> +<p>"You may as well make up your mind first as last to it," said +Langham, not regarding what Gilmore had just said. "I can't keep +Moxlow quiet any longer; the sentiment of the community is against +gamblers. If you are not a gambler, what are you?"</p> +<p>"You mean you are going to throw me over, you two?"</p> +<p>"With Moxlow it is a case of bread and butter; personally I +don't care whom you fleece, but I've got my living to make here in +Mount Hope, too, and I can't afford to go counter to public +opinion."</p> +<p>"You have had some favors out of me, Marsh."</p> +<p>"I am not likely to forget them, you give me no chance," +rejoined Langham bitterly.</p> +<p>"Why should I, eh?" asked Gilmore coolly. He leaned back in his +chair and stared at the ceiling above his head. "Marsh, what was +that North was saying about me when I came down the hall?" and his +swarthy cheeks were tinged with red.</p> +<p>"I don't recall that he was speaking of you."</p> +<p>"You don't? Well, think again. It was about our going up to your +house to-night, wasn't it? Your wife's back, eh? Well, don't worry, +I came here partly to tell you that I had made other arrangements +for the evening."</p> +<p>"It's just as well," said Langham.</p> +<p>"Do you mean your wife wouldn't receive me?" demanded Gilmore. +There was a catch in his voice and a pallor in his face.</p> +<p>"I didn't say that."</p> +<p>Gilmore's chair resounded noisily on the floor as he came to his +feet. He strode to the lawyer's side.</p> +<p>"Then what in hell <i>do</i> you say?" he stormed.</p> +<p>In spite of himself Langham quailed before the gambler's +fury.</p> +<p>"Oh, keep still, Andy! What a nasty-tempered beast you are!" he +said pacifically.</p> +<p>There was a pause, and Gilmore resumed his chair, turning to the +window to hide his emotion; then slowly his scowling glance came +back to Langham.</p> +<p>"He said I was a common card-sharp, eh?" Langham knew that he +spoke of North. "Damn him! What does he call himself?" He threw the +stub of his cigar from him across the room. "Marsh, what does your +wife know about me?" And again there was the catch to his +voice.</p> +<p>Langham looked at him in astonishment.</p> +<p>"Know about you—my wife—nothing," he said +slowly.</p> +<p>"I suppose she's heard my name?" inquired the gambler.</p> +<p>"No doubt."</p> +<p>"Thinks I rob you at cards, eh?" But Langham made no answer to +this. "Thinks I take your money away from you," continued the +gambler. "And it's your game to let her think that! I wonder what +she'd think if she knew the account stood the other way about? I've +been a handy sort of a friend, haven't I, Marsh? The sort you could +use,—and you have used me up to the limit! I've been good +enough to borrow money from, but not good enough to take +home—"</p> +<p>"Oh, come, Andy, what's the use," placated Langham. "I'm sorry +if your feelings are hurt."</p> +<p>"It's time you and I had a settlement, Marsh. I want you to take +up those notes of yours."</p> +<p>"I haven't the money!" said Langham.</p> +<p>"Well, I can't wait on you any longer."</p> +<p>"I don't see but that you'll have to," retorted Langham.</p> +<p>"I'm going to offer a few inducements for haste, Marsh. I'm +going to make you see that it's worth your while to find that money +for me quick,—understand? You owe me about two thousand +dollars; are you fixed to turn it in by the end of the month?"</p> +<p>The gambler bit off the end of a fresh cigar and held it a +moment between his fingers as he gazed at Langham, waiting for his +reply. The latter shook his head but said nothing.</p> +<p>"Well, then, by George, I am going to sue you!"</p> +<p>"Because I can't protect you longer!"</p> +<p>"Oh, to hell with your protection! Go dig up the money for me or +I'll raise a fuss here that'll hurt more than one reputation! The +notes are good, ain't they?"</p> +<p>"They are good when I have the money to meet them."</p> +<p>"They are good even if you haven't the money to meet them! I +guess Judge Langham's indorsement is worth something, and +Linscott's a rich man; even Moxlow's got some property. Those are +the three who are on your paper, and the paper's considerably +overdue."</p> +<p>Langham turned a pale face on the gambler.</p> +<p>"You won't do that, Andy!" he said, in a voice which he vainly +strove to hold steady.</p> +<p>"Won't I? Do you think I'm in business for my health?" And he +laughed shortly, then he wheeled on Langham with unexpected +fierceness. "I'll give you until the first of the month, Marsh, and +then I'm going after you without gloves. I don't care a damn who +squares the account; your indorsers' cash will suit me as well as +your own." He caught the expression on Langham's face, its deathly +pallor, the hunted look in his eyes, and paused suddenly. The +shadow of a slow smile fixed itself at the corners of his mouth, he +put out a hand and rested it on Langham's shoulder. "You damn fool! +Have you tried that trick on me? I'll take those notes to the bank +in the morning and see if the signatures are genuine."</p> +<p>"Do it!" Langham spoke in a whisper.</p> +<p>"Maybe you think I won't!" sneered the gambler. "Maybe you'd +rather I didn't, eh? It will hardly suit you to have me show those +notes?"</p> +<p>"Do what you like; whatever suggests itself to a scurvy whelp +like you!" said Langham.</p> +<p>Gilmore merely grinned at this.</p> +<p>"If you are trying to encourage me to smash you, Marsh, you have +got the right idea as to how it is to be done." But his tone was +now one of lazy good nature.</p> +<p>"Smash me then; I haven't the money to pay you."</p> +<p>"Get it!" said Gilmore tersely.</p> +<p>"Where?"</p> +<p>"You are asking too much of me, Marsh. If I could finance you +I'd cut out cards in the future. How about the judge,—no? +Well, I just threw that out as a hint, but I suppose you have been +there already, for naturally you'd compliment him by giving him the +chance to pull you up out of your troubles. Since your own father +won't help you, how about Linscott? Is he going to want to see his +son-in-law disgraced? I guess he's your best chance, Marsh. Put it +on strong and for once tell the truth. Tell him you've dabbled in +forgery and that it won't work!"</p> +<p>Langham had dropped back in his chair. He was seeking to devise +some expedient that would meet his present difficulties. His +bondage to the gambler had become intolerable, anything would be +better than a continuance of that. The monstrous folly of those +forgeries seemed beyond anything he could have perpetrated in his +sober senses. He must have been mad! But then he had needed the +money desperately.</p> +<p>He might go to his, father, but he had been to him only +recently, and the judge himself was burdened with debt. He might go +to Mr. Linscott, he might even try North. He could tell the latter +the whole circumstance and borrow a part of what was left of his +small fortune; of course he was in his debt as it was, but North +would never think of that; he was a man to share his last dollar +with a friend.</p> +<p>He passed a shaking hand across his eyes. On every side the +nightmare of his obligations confronted him, for who was there that +he could owe whom he did not already owe? He was notorious for his +inability to pay his debts. This notoriety was hurting his +professional standing, and now if Gilmore carried out his threat he +must look forward to the shame of a public exposure. His very +reputation for common honesty was at stake.</p> +<p>He wondered what men did in a crisis such as this. He wondered +what happened to them when they could do nothing more. Usually he +was fertile in expedients, but to-day his brain seemed wholly +inert. He realized only a certain dull terror of the future; the +present eluded him utterly.</p> +<p>He had never been over-scrupulous perhaps, he had always taken +what he pleased to call long chances, and it was in almost +imperceptible gradations that he had descended in the scale of +honesty to the point that had at last made possible these +forgeries. Until now he had always felt certain of himself and of +his future; time was to bring him into the presence of his dear +desires, when he should have money to lift the burden of debt, +money to waste, money to scatter, money to spend for the good +things of life.</p> +<p>But he had made the fatal mistake of anticipating the success in +which he so firmly believed. Those notes—he dashed his hand +before his face; suddenly the air of the room seemed to stifle him, +courage and cunning had left him; there was only North to whom he +could turn for a few hundreds with which to quiet Gilmore. Let him +but escape the consequences of his folly this time and he promised +himself he would retrench; he would live within his income, he +would apply himself to his profession as he had never yet applied +himself. He scowled heavily at Gilmore, who met his scowl with a +cynical smile.</p> +<p>"Well, what are you going to do?" he queried.</p> +<p>But Langham did not answer at once. He had turned and was +looking from the window. It was snowing now very hard, and +twilight, under the edges of torn gray clouds was creeping over the +Square; he could barely see the flickering lights in Archibald +McBride's dingy shop-windows.</p> +<p>"Give me a chance, Andy!" he said at last appealingly.</p> +<p>"To the end of the month, not a day more," asserted Gilmore.</p> +<p>"Where am I to get such a sum in that time? You know I can't do +it!"</p> +<p>"Don't ask me, but turn to and get it, Marsh. That's your only +hope."</p> +<p>"By the first of the year perhaps," urged Langham.</p> +<p>"No, get rid of the notion that I am going to let up on you, for +I ain't! I'm going to squat on your trail until the money's in my +hand; otherwise I know damn well I won't ever see a cent of it! I +ain't your only creditor, but the one who hounds you hardest will +see his money first, and I got you where I want you."</p> +<p>"I can't raise the money; what will you gain by ruining me?" +demanded Langham. He wished to impress this on Gilmore, and then he +would propose as a compromise the few hundreds it would be possible +to borrow from North.</p> +<p>"To get square with you, Marsh, will be worth something, and +frankly, I ain't sure that I ever expected to see any of that +money, but as long as you stood my friend I was disposed to be easy +on you."</p> +<p>"I am still your friend."</p> +<p>"Just about so-so, but you won't keep Moxlow—"</p> +<p>"I can't!"</p> +<p>"Then I can't see where your friendship comes in." Gilmore +quitted his chair.</p> +<p>"Wait, Andy!" said Langham hastily.</p> +<p>"No use of any more talk, Marsh, I want my money! Go dig it +up."</p> +<p>"Suppose, by straining every nerve, I can raise five hundred +dollars by the end of the month—"</p> +<p>"Oh, pay your grocer with that!"</p> +<p>Langham choked down his rage. "You haven't always been so +contemptuous of such sums."</p> +<p>"I'm feeling proud to-day, Marsh. I'm going to treat myself to a +few airs, and you can pat yourself on the back when you've dug up +the money by the end of the month! You'll have done something to +feel proud of, too."</p> +<p>"Suppose we say a thousand," urged Langham.</p> +<p>"Good old Marsh! If you keep on raising yourself like this +you'll soon get to a figure where we can talk business!" Gilmore +laughed.</p> +<p>"Perhaps I can raise a thousand dollars. I don't know why I +should think I can, but I'm willing to try; I'm willing to say I'll +try—"</p> +<p>Gilmore shook his head.</p> +<p>"I've told you what you got to do, Marsh, and I mean every damn +word I say,—understand that? I'm going to have my money or +I'm going to have the fun of smashing you."</p> +<p>"Listen to me, Andy!" began Langham desperately.</p> +<p>"Why take me into your confidence?" asked the gambler +coldly.</p> +<p>"What will you gain by ruining me?" repeated Langham +fiercely.</p> +<p>The gambler only grinned.</p> +<p>"I am always willing to spend money on my pleasures; and besides +when those notes turn up, your father or some one else will have to +come across."</p> +<p>Langham was silent. He was staring out across the empty +snow-strewn Square at the lights in Archibald McBride's +windows.</p> +<p>"Remember," said Gilmore, moving toward the door. "I'll talk to +you when you got two thousand dollars."</p> +<p>"Damn you, where do you think I'll get it?" cried Langham.</p> +<p>"I'm not good at guessing," laughed Gilmore.</p> +<p>He turned without another word or look and left the room. His +footsteps echoed loudly in the hall and on the stairs, and then +there was silence in the building. Langham was again looking out +across the Square at the lights in Archibald McBride's windows.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_FOUR" id="CHAPTER_FOUR"></a>CHAPTER FOUR</h2> +<h3>ADVENTURE IN EARNEST</h3> +<p>Mr. Shrimplin had made his way through a number of back streets +without adventure of any sort, and as the night and the storm +closed swiftly in about him, the shapes of himself, his cart and of +wild Bill disappeared, and there remained to mark his progress only +the hissing sputtering flame, that flared spectrally six feet in +air as the little lamplighter drove in and out of shabby +unfrequented streets and alleys.</p> +<p>It had grown steadily colder with the approach of night, and the +wind had risen. The streets seemed deserted, and Mr. Shrimplin +being as he was of a somewhat fanciful turn of mind, could almost +imagine himself and Bill the only living things astir in all the +town.</p> +<p>He reached Water Street, the western boundary of that part of +Mount Hope known as the flats. He jogged past Maxy Schaffer's +Railroad Hotel at the corner of Front Street, which flung the +wicked radiance of its bar-room windows along the shining railroad +track where it crossed the creek on the new iron bridge; and +keeping on down Water Street with its smoky tenements, entered an +outlying district where the lamps were far apart and where red and +blue and green switch lights blinked at him out of the storm.</p> +<p>It was nearly six o'clock when he at last wheeled into the +Square; here only three gasolene burners—survivors of the old +régime—held their own against the fast encroaching +gas-lamp.</p> +<p>He lighted the one in Division Street and was ready to turn and +traverse the north side of the Square to the second lamp which +stood a block away at the corner of High Street. He was drawing +Bill's head about—Bill being smitten with a sudden desire to +go directly home leaving the night's work unfinished—when the +muffled figure of a man appeared in the street in front of him. The +inch or more of snow that now covered the pavement had deadened the +sound of his steps, while the eddying flakes had made possible his +near approach unseen. As he came rapidly into the red glare of Mr. +Shrimplin's hissing torch that hero was exceeding well pleased to +recognize a friendly face.</p> +<p>"How are you, Mr. North!" he said, and John North halted +suddenly.</p> +<p>"Oh, it's you, Shrimp! A nasty night, isn't it?"</p> +<p>"It's the suffering human limit!" rejoined Mr. Shrimplin with +feeling.</p> +<p>As he spoke the town bell rang the hour; unconsciously, perhaps, +the two men paused until the last reverberating stroke had spent +itself in the snowy distance.</p> +<p>"Six o'clock," observed Mr. Shrimplin.</p> +<p>"Good night, Shrimp," replied North irrelevantly.</p> +<p>He turned away and an instant later was engulfed in the wintry +night.</p> +<p>Having at last pointed Bill's head in the right direction Mr. +Shrimplin drove that trusty beast up to the lamp-post on the corner +of High Street, when suddenly and for no apparent reason Bill +settled back in the shafts and exhibited unmistakable, though +humiliating symptoms of fright.</p> +<p>"Go on, you!" cried Mr. Shrimplin, slapping bravely with both +the lines, but his voice was far from steady, for suppose Bill +should abandon the rectitude of a lifetime and begin to kick.</p> +<p>"Go on, you!" repeated Mr. Shrimplin and slapped the lines +again, but less vigorously, for by this time Bill was +unquestionably backing away from the curb.</p> +<p>"Be done! Be done!" expostulated Mr. Shrimplin, but he gave over +slapping the lines, for why irritate Bill in his present uncertain +mood? "Want I should get out and lead you?" asked Mr. Shrimplin, +putting aside with one hand the blankets in which he was wrapped. +"You're a game old codger, ain't you? I guess you ain't aware +you've growed up!"</p> +<p>While he was still speaking he slipped to the ground and worked +his way hand over hand up the lines to Bill's bit. Bill was now +comfortably located on his haunches, but evidently still +dissatisfied for he continued to back vigorously, drawing the +protesting little lamplighter after him. When he had put perhaps +twenty feet between himself and the lamp-post Bill achieved his +usual upright attitude and his countenance assumed its habitual +contemplative expression, the haunted look faded from his sagacious +eye and his flaming nostrils resumed their normal benevolent +expression. Taking note of these swift changes, it occurred to Mr. +Shrimplin that rather than risk a repetition of his recent +experience he would so far sacrifice his official dignity as to go +on foot to the lamp-post. Bill would probably stand where he was, +indefinitely, standing being one of his most valued +accomplishments. The lamplighter took up his torch which he had put +aside in the struggle with Bill and walked to the curb.</p> +<p>And here Mr. Shrimplin noticed that which had not before caught +his attention. McBride's store was apparently open, for the +bracketed oil lamps that hung at regular intervals the full length +of the long narrow room, were all alight.</p> +<p>Mr. Shrimplin, whose moods were likely to be critical and +censorious, realized that there was something personally offensive +in the fact that Archibald McBride had chosen to disregard a +holiday which his fellow-merchants had so very generally +observed.</p> +<p>"And him, I may say, just rotten rich!" he thought.</p> +<p>Mr. Shrimplin further discovered that though the lamps were lit +they were burning low, and he concluded that they had been lighted +in the early dusk of the winter afternoon and that McBride, for +reasons of economy, had deferred turning them up until it should be +quite dark.</p> +<p>"Well, I'm a poor man, but I couldn't think of them things like +he does!" reflected Mr. Shrimplin; and then even before he had +ceased to pride himself on his superior liberality, he made still +another discovery, and this, that the store door stood wide open to +the night.</p> +<p>"Well," thought Mr. Shrimplin, "maybe he's saving oil, but he's +wasting fuel."</p> +<p>Approaching the door he peered in. The store was empty, +Archibald McBride was nowhere visible. Evidently the door had been +open some little time, for he could see where the snow, driven by +the strong wind, had formed a miniature snow-drift just beyond the +threshold.</p> +<p>"Either he's stepped out and the door's blowed open," muttered +Mr. Shrimplin, "or he's in his back office and some customer went +out without latching it."</p> +<p>He paused irresolutely, then he put his hand on the knob of the +door to close it, and paused again. With his taste for fictitious +horrors, usually indulged in, however, by his own warm fireside, he +found the present time and place slightly disquieting; and then +Bill's singular and erratic behavior had rather weakened his nerve. +From under knitted brows he gazed into the room. The storm rattled +the shuttered windows above his head, the dingy sign creaked on its +rusty fastenings, and with each fresh gust the bracketed lamps +rocked gently to and fro, and as they rocked their trembling +shadows slid back and forth along the walls. The very air of the +place was inhospitable, forbidding, and Mr. Shrimplin was strongly +inclined to close the door and beat a hasty retreat.</p> +<p>Still peering down the narrow room with its sagging shelves and +littered counters, he crossed the threshold. Now he could see the +office, a space partitioned off at the rear of the building and +having a glass front that gave into the store itself. Here, as he +knew, stood Mr. McBride's big iron safe, and here was the high +desk, his heavy ledgers—row after row of them; these +histories of commerce covered almost the entire period during which +men had bought and sold in Mount Hope.</p> +<p>A faint light burned beyond the dirty glass partition, but the +tall meager form of the old merchant was nowhere visible. Mr. +Shrimplin advanced yet farther into the room and urged by his sense +of duty and his public spirit, he directed his steps toward the +office, treading softly as one who fears to come upon the +unexpected. Once he paused, and addressing the empty air, broke the +heavy silence:</p> +<p>"Oh, Mr. McBride, your door's open!"</p> +<p>The room echoed to his words.</p> +<p>"Well," carped Mr. Shrimplin, "I don't see as it's any of my +business to attend to his business!" But the very sound of his +voice must have given him courage, for now he stepped forward, +briskly.</p> +<p>On his right was a show-case in which was displayed a varied +assortment of knives, cutlery, and revolvers with shiny silver or +nickel mountings; then the show-case gave place to a long pine +counter, and at the far end of this was a pair of scales. Near the +scales on a low iron standard rested an oil lamp, but this lamp was +not lighted nor were the lamps in the bracket that hung immediately +above the scales, for behind the counter at this point was a door, +the upper half glass, that opened on a small yard which, in turn, +was inclosed by a series of low sheds where the old merchant stored +heavy castings, bar-iron, and the like. Mr. Shrimplin was shrewdly +aware that it was one of McBride's small economies not to light the +lamps by that door so long as he could see to read the figures on +the scales without their artificial aid.</p> +<p>And then Mr. Shrimplin saw a thing that sent the blood leaping +from his heart, while an icy hand seemed to hold him where he +stood. On the floor at his very feet was a strange huddled shape. +He lowered his gasolene torch which he still carried, and the shape +resolved itself into the figure of a man; an old man who lay face +down on the floor, his arms extended as if they had been arrested +while he was in the very act of raising them to his head. The thick +shock of snow-white hair, worn rather long, was discolored just +back of the left ear, and from this Mr. Shrimplin's horrified gaze +was able to trace another discoloration that crossed in a thin red +line the dead man's white collar; for the man was dead past all +peradventure.</p> +<div class="figcenter"><br /> +<a href="images/072.jpg"><img src="images/072.jpg" width="45%" alt= +"" title="" /></a><br /> +<b>On the floor at his feet was a strange huddled shape.</b> +<br /></div> +<p>Mr. Shrimplin saw and grasped the meaning of it all in an +instant. Then with a feeble cry he turned and fled down the long +room, pursued by a million phantom terrors. His heart seemed to die +within him as he scurried down that long room; then, mercifully, +the keen fresh air filled his lungs. He fairly leaped through the +open door, and again the storm roared about him with a kind of +boisterous fellowship. It smote him in the face and twisted his +shaking legs from under him. Then he fell, speechless, terrified, +into the arms of a passer-by.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_FIVE" id="CHAPTER_FIVE"></a>CHAPTER FIVE</h2> +<h3>COLONEL GEORGE HARBISON</h3> +<p>Terror-stricken as he was, Mr. Shrimplin recognized the man into +whose arms he had fallen. There was no mistaking the nose, thin and +aquiline, the bristling mustache and white imperial, the soft gray +slouch hat, or the military cloak that half concealed the stalwart +form of its wearer.</p> +<p>Colonel George Harbison, much astonished and in utter ignorance +of the cause of Mr. Shrimplin's alarm, took that gentleman by the +collar and deftly jerked him into an erect posture.</p> +<p>"My dear sir!" the colonel began in a tone of mild +expostulation, evidently thinking he had a drunken man to deal +with. "My dear sir, do be more careful—" then he recognized +the lamplighter. "Well, upon my word, Shrimp, what's gone wrong +with you?" he demanded, with military asperity.</p> +<p>"My God, Colonel, if he ain't lying there dead—" a shudder +passed through the little man; he was well-nigh dumb in his terror. +"And I stumbled right on to him there on the floor!" he cried with +a gasp.</p> +<p>He collapsed again, and again the colonel, whose gloved hand +still retained its hold on his collar, set him on his trembling +legs with admirable expertness.</p> +<p>"I tell you he's dead!" cried Mr. Shrimplin, lost to everything +but that one dreadful fact.</p> +<p>"Who's dead?" demanded the colonel. "Stand up, man, don't fall +about like that or you may do yourself some injury!" for Mr. +Shrimplin seemed about to collapse once more.</p> +<p>"Old man McBride, Colonel—if he ain't dead I wish I may +never see death!"</p> +<p>"Dead!" cried the colonel. "Archibald McBride dead!" He released +his hold on Mr. Shrimplin and took a step toward the door; +Shrimplin, however, detained him with a shaking hand, though he was +calmer now.</p> +<p>"Colonel, you'd better be careful, he's lying there in a pool of +blood; some one's killed him for his money! How do we know the +murderer ain't there!" This conjecture was made to the empty +street, for Colonel Harbison had entered the store.</p> +<p>"Why does he want to leave me like that!" wailed Shrimplin, and +his panic threatened a return.</p> +<p>He dragged himself to the door. Here he paused, since he could +not bring himself to enter, for before his eyes was the ghastly +vision of that old man huddled on the blood-stained floor. He heard +the colonel's steps echo down the long room, and when their sound +ceased he knew he was standing beside the dead man. After what +seemed an age of waiting the steps sounded again, and a moment +later the colonel's tall form filled the doorway.</p> +<p>"Andy!" said the colonel.</p> +<p>Mr. Shrimplin turned with a start. At his back within reach of +his hand stood Andy Gilmore. He had been utterly unaware of the +gambler's approach, but now conscious of it he dropped in a +miserable heap on the door-sill, while the white and unfamiliar +world reeled before his bleached blue eyes; it was the very +drunkenness of fear.</p> +<p>"Howdy, Colonel," said the gambler, as he gave Harbison a +half-military salute.</p> +<p>He admired the colonel, who had once threatened to horsewhip him +if he ever permitted his nephew, Watt, to enter his rooms.</p> +<p>"Come here, Andy!" ordered the colonel briefly.</p> +<p>"God's sake, Colonel!" gasped the wretched little lamplighter, +struggling to his feet, "don't leave me here—"</p> +<p>"What's wrong, Colonel?" asked Gilmore.</p> +<p>"Archibald McBride's been murdered!"</p> +<p>Mr. Gilmore took the butt of the half-smoked cigar from between +his teeth, tossed it into the gutter, and pushing past Mr. +Shrimplin entered the room.</p> +<p>Colonel Harbison, a step or two in advance of his companion, led +the way to the rear of the store. The colonel paused, and Gilmore +gained a place at his elbow.</p> +<p>"You are sure he's dead?" questioned the gambler.</p> +<p>Kneeling beside the crumpled figure Gilmore slipped his hand in +between the body and the floor; his manner was cool and +businesslike. After a moment he withdrew his hand and looked, up +into the colonel's face.</p> +<p>"Well?" asked the colonel.</p> +<p>"Oh, he's dead, all right!" Gilmore glanced about him, and the +colonel's eyes following, they both discovered that the door +leading into the side yard was partly open.</p> +<p>"He went that way, eh, Colonel?"</p> +<p>"It's altogether likely," agreed the veteran.</p> +<p>"It's a nasty business!" said Gilmore reflectively.</p> +<p>"Shocking!" snapped the colonel.</p> +<p>"He took big chances," commented the gambler, "living the way he +did." He spoke of the dead man.</p> +<p>"Poor old man!" said the colonel pityingly.</p> +<p>What had it all amounted to, those chances for the sake of gain, +which Gilmore had in mind.</p> +<p>"He can't have been dead very long," said Gilmore. "Did +<i>you</i> find him, Colonel?" he asked as he stood erect.</p> +<p>"No, Shrimplin found him."</p> +<p>Again the two men looked about them. On the floor by the counter +at their right was a heavy sledge. Gilmore called Harbison's +attention to this.</p> +<p>"I guess the job was done with that," he said.</p> +<p>"Possibly," agreed Harbison.</p> +<p>Gilmore picked up the sledge and examined it narrowly.</p> +<p>"Yes, you can see, there is blood on it." He handed it to +Harbison, who stepped under the nearest lamp with the clumsy weapon +in his hand.</p> +<p>"You are right, Andy!" and he glanced at the rude instrument of +death with a look of repugnance on his keen sensitive face, then he +carefully, placed it under the wooden counter. "Horrible!" he +muttered to himself.</p> +<p>"It was no joke for him!" said the gambler, catching the last +word. "But some one was bound to try this dodge sooner or later. +Why, as far back as I can remember, people said he kept his money +hidden away at the bottom of nail kegs and under heaps of +scrap-iron." He took a cigar from his pocket, bit off the end, and +struck a match. "Well, I wouldn't want to be the other fellow, +Colonel; I'd be in all kinds of a panic; it takes nerve for a job +like this."</p> +<p>"It's a shocking circumstance," said the colonel.</p> +<p>"I wonder if it paid!" speculated the gambler. "And I wonder +who'll get what he leaves. Has he any family or relatives?"</p> +<p>"No, not so far as any one knows. He came here many years ago, a +close-mouthed Scotchman, who never had any intimates, never +married, and never spoke of his private affairs."</p> +<p>There was a slight commotion at the door. They could hear +Shrimplin's agitated voice, and a moment later two men, chance +passers-by with whom he had been speaking, shook themselves free of +the little lamplighter and entered the room. The new-comers nodded +to the colonel and Gilmore as they paused to stare mutely at the +body on the floor.</p> +<p>"He bled like a stuck pig!" said one of the men at last. He was +a ragged slouching creature with a splotched and bloated face half +hidden by a bristling red beard. He glanced at Gilmore for an +uncertain instant out of a pair of small shifty eyes. "It's murder, +ain't it, boss?" he added.</p> +<p>"No doubt about that, Joe!" rejoined the gambler.</p> +<p>"I suppose it was robbery?" said the other man, who had not +spoken before.</p> +<p>"Very likely," answered the colonel. "We have not examined the +place, however; we shall wait for the proper officials."</p> +<p>"Who do you want, Colonel?"</p> +<p>"Coroner Taylor, and I suppose the sheriff," replied +Harbison.</p> +<p>The man nodded.</p> +<p>"All right, I'll bring them; and say, what about the prosecuting +attorney?" as he turned to leave.</p> +<p>"Yes, bring Moxlow, too, if you can find him."</p> +<p>The man hurried from the room. Gilmore leaned against the +counter and smoked imperturbably. Joe Montgomery, with his great +slouching shoulders arched, and his grimy hands buried deep in his +trousers pockets, stared at the dead man in stolid wonder. Colonel +Harbison's glance sought the same object but with a sensitive +shrinking as from an ugly brutal thing. A clock ticked loudly in +the office; there was the occasional fall of cinders from the grate +of the rusted stove that heated the place; these were sounds that +neither Gilmore nor the colonel had heard before. Presently a lean +black cat stole from the office and sprang upon the counter; it +purred softly.</p> +<p>"Hello, puss!" said the gambler, putting out a hand. The cat +stole closer. "I guess I'll have to take you home with me, eh? This +ain't a place for unprotected females!" The cat crept back and +forth under his caressing touch.</p> +<p>At the street-door Shrimplin appeared and disappeared, now his +head was thrust into the room, and now his nose was flattened +against the dingy show-windows; from neither point could he quite +command the view he desired nor could he bring himself to enter the +building; then he vanished entirely, but after a brief interval +they heard his voice. He was evidently speaking with some one in +the street. A little crowd was rapidly gathering about him, but it +disintegrated almost immediately, his listeners abandoning him to +hurry into the store.</p> +<p>"You must stand back, all of you!" said the colonel. "Unless you +are very careful you may destroy important evidence!"</p> +<p>The crowd assembled itself silently for the most part; here and +there a man removed his hat, or made some whispered comment, or +asked some eager low-voiced question of Gilmore or the colonel. Men +stood on boxes, on nail kegs, and on counters. Except for the +little circle left about the dead man on the floor, every vantage +point of observation was soon occupied. It was scarcely half an +hour since Shrimplin had fallen speechless into Colonel Harbison's +arms, yet fully two hundred men had gathered in that long room or +were struggling about the door to gain admittance to it.</p> +<p>At a suggestion from Harbison, the gambler, followed by Joe, +elbowed his way to the front door, which in spite of the protest of +those outside, he closed and locked. A moment later, however, he +opened it to admit Doctor Taylor, the coroner, and Conklin, the +sheriff. The latter instantly set about clearing the room.</p> +<p>Gilmore and the colonel remained with the officials and during +the succeeding ten minutes the gambler, who had kept his post at +the door, opened, it to Moxlow, young Watt Harbison and two +policemen.</p> +<p>As the coroner finished his examination of the body, the sound +of wheels was heard in the Square and an undertaker's wagon drew up +to the door. The murdered man was placed on a stretcher and covered +with a black cloth, then four men raised the stretcher and for the +last time the old merchant passed out under his creaking sign into +the night.</p> +<p>"I've agreed to watch at the house, Andy," said Colonel +Harbison. "I want you and Watt to come with me."</p> +<p>The gambler lighted a fresh cigar and the three men left the +store.</p> +<p>On the Square groups of men discussed the murder. Though none +was permitted to enter the store, the windows afforded occasional +glimpses of the little group of officials within, until a policeman +closed and fastened the heavy wooden shutters. Then the crowd +slowly and reluctantly dispersed.</p> +<p>Meanwhile the town marshal, under cover of the excitement, had +descended on the gas house where tramps congregated of winter +nights for warmth and shelter. Here he found shivering over a can +of beer, two homeless wretches, whom he arrested as suspicious +characters. After this, official activity languished, for the +official mind could think of nothing more to do.</p> +<p>With the scattering of the crowd on the Square, Shrimplin +climbed into his cart and drove off home. The smother of +wind-driven snow still enveloped the, town, the very air seemed +charged with mystery and horror, and before the little +lamplighter's eyes was ever the haunting vision of the murdered +man.</p> +<p>He drove into the alley back of his house, unhitched Bill and +led him into the barn. His torch made the gloom of the place more +terrifying than utter darkness would have been. Suppose the +murderer should be hiding there! Mr. Shrimplin's mind fastened on +the hay-mow as the most likely place of concealment, and the cold +sweat ran from him in icy streams; he could, almost see the +murderer's evil eyes fixed upon him from the blackness above. But +at last Bill was stripped of his harness, and the little +lamplighter, escaping from the barn with its fancied terrors, +hurried across his small back yard to his kitchen door.</p> +<p>"Well!" said Mrs. Shrimplin, as he entered the room. "I was +beginning to wonder if you'd ever think it worth your while to come +home!"</p> +<p>"What's the bell been ringing for?" asked Custer. Mrs. Shrimplin +was seated by the table, which was littered with her sewing; Custer +occupied his usual chair by the stove, and it was evident that they +knew nothing of the tragedy in which Mr. Shrimplin had played so +important, and as he now felt, so worthy a part.</p> +<p>"I suppose I've been out quite a time, and I may say I've seen +times, too! I guess there ain't no one in the town fitter to say +they seen times than just me!"</p> +<p>The light and comfort of his own pleasant kitchen had quite +restored Mr. Shrimplin.</p> +<p>"I may say I seen times!" he repeated significantly. "There's +something doing in this here old town after all! I take back a heap +of the hard things I've said about it; a feller can scare up a +little excitement if he knows where to look for it. I ain't +bragging none, but I guess you'll hear my name mentioned—I +guess you'll even see it in print in the newspapers!" He warmed his +cold hands over the stove. "Throw in a little more coal, sonny; I'm +half froze, but I guess that's the worst any one can say of +me!"</p> +<p>"You make much of it, whatever it is," said Mrs. Shrimplin.</p> +<p>"Maybe I do and maybe I don't," equivocated Mr. Shrimplin +genially.</p> +<p>"Maybe you're not above telling a body what kept you out half +the night?" inquired his wife.</p> +<p>"If you done and seen what I've did and saw," replied Mr. +Shrimplin impressively, "you'd look for a little respect in your +own home."</p> +<p>"I'd be a heap quicker telling about it," said Mrs. +Shrimplin.</p> +<p>Mr. Shrimplin turned to Custer.</p> +<p>"I guess, you're thinking it was a burglar; but, sonny, it +wasn't no burglar—so you got another guess coming to you," he +concluded benevolently.</p> +<p>"I know!" cried Custer. "Some one's been killed!"</p> +<p>"Exactly!" said Mr. Shrimplin with increasing benevolence. "Some +one has been killed!"</p> +<p>"You done it!" cried Custer.</p> +<p>"I found the party," admitted Mr. Shrimplin with calm +dignity.</p> +<p>"Oh!" But perhaps Custer's first emotion was on the whole one of +disappointment.</p> +<p>"How you talk!" said Mrs. Shrimplin.</p> +<p>"I reckon I might say more, most any one would," retorted Mr. +Shrimplin quietly. "It was old man McBride—someone's murdered +him for his money; I never seen the town so on end over anything +before, but whoever wants to be well posted's got to come to me for +the particulars. I seen the old man before Colonel Harbison seen +him, I seen him before Andy Gilmore seen him, I seen him before the +coroner seen him, or the sheriff or <i>any one</i> seen him! I was +on the spot ahead of 'em all. If any one wants to know how he +looked just after he was killed, they got to come to me to find +out. Colonel Harbison can't tell 'em, and Andy Gilmore can't tell +'em; it's only me knows them particulars!"</p> +<p>The effect of this stirring declaration was quite all he had +hoped for. Out of the tail of his eye he saw that Mrs. Shrimplin +was, as she afterward freely confessed, taken aback. As for Custer, +he had forgotten his disappointment that a death by violence had +occurred for which his father was not directly responsible.</p> +<p>"Did you see the man that killed old Mr. McBride?" asked Custer, +breaking the breathless spell that was upon him.</p> +<p>"No; if I'd been just about fifteen minutes sooner I'd have seen +him; but I was just about that much too late, sonny. I guess he's a +whole lot better off, though."</p> +<p>"What would you have done if you'd seen him?" Custer's voice +sank to a whisper.</p> +<p>"Well, I don't pack a gun for nothing. If I'd seen him there, +he'd had to go 'round to the jail with me. I guess I could have +coaxed him there; I was ready for to offer extra inducements!"</p> +<p>"And does everybody know you seen old Mr. McBride the first of +any?" asked Custer.</p> +<p>"I guess they do; I ain't afraid about that. Colonel Harbison's +too much of a gentleman to claim any credit that ain't his; he'd be +the first one to own up that he don't deserve no credit."</p> +<p>"What took you into McBride's store? You hadn't no errand +there." Mrs. Shrimplin was a careful and acquisitive wife.</p> +<p>"I allow I made an errand there," said Mr. Shrimplin bridling. +"I reckon many another man might have thought he hadn't no errand +there either, but I feel different about them things. I was just +turned into the Square when along comes young John +North—"</p> +<p>"What was he doing there?" suddenly asked Mrs. Shrimplin.</p> +<p>"I expect he was attending strictly to his own business," +retorted Mr. Shrimplin, offended by the utter irrelevancy of the +question.</p> +<p>"Go on, pal" begged Custer.</p> +<p>He felt that his mother's interruptions were positively cruel, +and—so like a woman!</p> +<p>"Me and young John North passed the time of day," continued Mr. +Shrimplin, thus abjured, "and I started around the north side of +the Square to light the lamp on old man McBride's own corner. If +I'd knowed then—" he paused impressively, "if I'd just knowed +then, that was my time! I could have laid hands on the murderer. He +was there somewheres, most likely he was watching me; well, maybe +it was all for the best, I don't know as a married man's got any +right to take chances. Anyway, I got to within, well—I should +say, thirty feet of that lamp-post when all of a sudden Bill began +to act up. You never saw a horse act up like he done! He rose in +his britching and then the other end of him come up and he acted +like he wanted to set down on the singletree!"</p> +<p>"Why did he do that?" asked Custer.</p> +<p>"Well, I guess you've got some few things to learn, Custer;" +said Mr. Shrimplin indulgently. "He smelt blood—that's what +he smelt!"</p> +<p>"Oh!" gasped Custer.</p> +<p>"I've knowed it to happen before. It's instinct," explained +Shrimplin. "'Singular,' says I, and out I jumps to have a look +about. I walked to the lamp-post, and then I seen what I hadn't +seen before, that old man McBride's store door was open, so I +stepped on to the sidewalk intending to close it, but as I put my +hand on the knob I seen where the snow had drifted into the room, +so I knew the door must have been open some little time. That's +mighty odd, I thinks, and then it sort of come over me the way Bill +had acted, and I went along into the store in pretty considerable +of a hurry."</p> +<p>"Were you afraid?" demanded Custer in an awe-struck whisper.</p> +<p>"I'll tell you the truth, Custer, I wasn't. I own I'd drawed my +gun, wishing to be on the safe side. First thing I noticed was that +the lamps hadn't been turned up, though they was all lit. I got +back to the end of the counter when I came to a halt, for there in +a heap on the floor was old man McBride, with his head mashed in +where some one had hit him with a sledge. There was blood all over +the floor, and it was a mighty sickenin' spectacle. I sort of +looked around hoping I'd see the murderer, but he'd lit out, and +then I went back to the front of the store, where I seen Colonel +Harbison coming across the Square. I told him what I'd seen and he +went inside to look; while he was looking, along come Andy Gilmore +and I told him, too, and he went in. They knowed the murderer +wasn't there, that I'd been in ahead of them. After, that the +people seemed to come from every direction; then presently some one +started to ring the town bell and that fetched more people, until +the Square in front of the store was packed and jammed with 'em. +Everybody' wanted to hear about it first-hand from me; they wanted +the <i>full particulars</i> from the only one who knowed 'em."</p> +<p>Mr. Shrimplin paused for breath. The recollection of his +splendid publicity was dazzling. He imagined the morrow with its +possibility of social triumph; he went as far as to feel that Mrs. +Shrimplin now had a certain sneaking respect for him.</p> +<p>"Did you see tracks in the snow?" demanded Custer.</p> +<p>"No, I didn't see nothing," declared Mr. Shrimplin.</p> +<p>"You seen young John North."</p> +<p>It was Mrs. Shrimplin who spoke.</p> +<p>"Well, yes, I seen young John North—I said I seen +him!"</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_SIX" id="CHAPTER_SIX"></a>CHAPTER SIX</h2> +<h3>PUTTING ON THE SCREWS</h3> +<p>A score of men and boys followed the undertaker's wagon to the +small frame cottage that had been Archibald McBride's home for half +a century, and a group of these assembled about the gate as the +wagon drew up before it. Along the quiet street, windows were +raised and doors were opened. It was perhaps the first time, as it +was to be the last, that Archibald McBride's neighbors took note of +his home-coming.</p> +<p>His keys had been found and intrusted to one of the policemen +who accompanied the undertaker and his men; now, as the wagon came +to a stand, this officer sprang to the ground, and pushing open the +gate went quickly up the path to the front door. There in the +shelter of the porch he paused to light a lantern, then he tried +key after key until he found the one that fitted the lock; he +opened the door and entered the house, the undertaker following +him. A second officer stationed himself at the door and kept back +the crowd. Their preparations were soon made and the two men +reappeared on the porch.</p> +<p>"It's all right," the undertaker said, and four men raised the +stretcher again and carried the old merchant into the house.</p> +<p>At this juncture Colonel Harbison, followed by his nephew and +Gilmore, made his way through the crowd before the door. Gilmore, +even, gave an involuntary shudder as they entered the small hall +lighted by the single lantern, while the colonel could have wished +himself anywhere else; he had come from a sense of duty; he had +known McBride as well as any one in Mount Hope had known him, and +it had seemed a lack of respect to the dead man to leave him to the +care of the merely curious; but he was painfully conscious of the +still presence in the parlor; he felt that they were unwelcome +intruders in the home of that austere old man, who had made no +friends, who had no intimates, but had lived according to his +choice, solitary and alone. The colonel and Watt Harbison followed +the gambler into what had been the old merchant's sitting-room. +There were two lamps on the chimneypiece, both of which Gilmore +lighted.</p> +<p>"That's a whole lot better," he said.</p> +<p>"Anything more we can do, gentlemen?" asked the undertaker, +coming into the room.</p> +<p>"Nothing, thank you," answered the colonel in a tone of +abstraction, and he felt a sense of relief when the officials had +gone their way into the night, leaving him and his two companions +to their vigil.</p> +<p>Now for the first time they had leisure and opportunity to look +about them. It was a poor enough place, all things considered; the +furniture was dingy with age and neglect, for Archibald McBride had +kept no servant; a worn and faded carpet covered the floor; there +was an engraving of Washington Crossing the Delaware and a few +old-fashioned woodcuts on the wall; at one side of the room was a +desk, opposite it a rusted sheet-iron stove in which Watt Harbison +was already starting a fire; there was a scant assortment of +uncomfortable chairs, a table, with one leg bandaged, and near the +desk an old mahogany davenport.</p> +<p>"This wouldn't have suited you, eh, Colonel?" said Gilmore at +last.</p> +<p>"He could hardly be said to live here, he merely came here to +sleep," answered the colonel.</p> +<p>"No, he couldn't have cared for anything but the one thing," +said Gilmore. "Were you ever here before, Colonel?" he added.</p> +<p>"Never."</p> +<p>"I don't suppose half a dozen people in the town were ever +inside his door until to-night," said Watt Harbison, speaking for +the first time.</p> +<p>Gilmore turned to look at the colonel's nephew as if he had only +that moment become aware of his presence. What he saw did not +impress him greatly, for young Watt, save for an unusually large +head, was much like other young men of his class. His speech was +soft, his face beardless and his gray eyes gazed steadily but +without curiosity on, what was for him, an uncliented world. For +the eighteen months that he had been an "attorney and counselor at +law" the detail of office rent had been taken care of by the +colonel.</p> +<p>"Sort of makes the game he played seem rotten poor sport," +commented Gilmore, replying to the nephew but looking at the +uncle.</p> +<p>The colonel was silent.</p> +<p>"Rotten poor sport!" repeated Gilmore.</p> +<p>"Who'll come in for his property?" asked Watt Harbison.</p> +<p>"Oh, some one will claim that," said Gilmore. "They were saying +down at the store, that once, years ago, a brother of his turned +up, here, but McBride got rid of him."</p> +<p>"Suppose we have a look around before we settle ourselves for +the night," suggested Watt Harbison.</p> +<p>"Will you join us, Colonel?" asked the gambler.</p> +<p>But the colonel shook his head. Gilmore took up one of the lamps +as he spoke and opened a door that led into what had evidently once +been a dining-room, but it was now only partly furnished; back of +this was a kitchen, and beyond the kitchen a woodshed. Returning to +the front of the house, they mounted to the floor above. Here had +been the old merchant's bedroom; adjoining it were two smaller +rooms, one of which had been used as a place of storage for trunks +and boxes and broken bits of furniture; the other room was +empty.</p> +<p>"We may as well go back down-stairs," said the gambler, halting, +lamp in hand, in the center of the empty room.</p> +<p>Harbison nodded, and leading the way to the floor below, they +rejoined the colonel in the sitting-room, where they made +themselves as comfortable as possible.</p> +<p>The colonel and his nephew talked in subdued tones, principally +of the murdered man; they had no desire to exclude their companion +from the conversation, but Gilmore displayed no interest in what +was said. He sat at the colonel's elbow, preoccupied and +thoughtful, smoking cigar after cigar. Presently the colonel and +his nephew lapsed into silence. Their silence seemed to rouse +Gilmore to what was passing about him. He glanced at the elder +Harbison.</p> +<p>"You look tired, Colonel," he said. "Why don't you stretch out +on that lounge yonder and take a nap?"</p> +<p>"I think I shall, Andy, if you and Watt don't mind." And the +colonel quitted his chair.</p> +<p>"Better put your coat over you," advised the gambler.</p> +<p>He watched the colonel as he made himself comfortable on the +lounge, then he lighted a fresh cigar, tilted his chair against the +wall and with head thrown back studied the ceiling. Watt Harbison +made one or two tentative attempts at conversation, to which +Gilmore briefly responded, then the young fellow also became +thoughtful. He fell to watching the gambler's strong profile which +the lamp silhouetted against the opposite wall; then drowsiness +completely overcame him and he slept in his chair with his head +fallen forward on his breast.</p> +<p>Gilmore, alert and sleepless, smoked on; he was thinking of +Evelyn Langham. After his interview with her husband that afternoon +he had gone to his own apartment. His bedroom adjoined North's +parlor and through the flimsy lath and plaster partition he had +distinctly heard a woman's voice. The sound of that voice and the +suspicion it instantly begot added to his furious hatred of North, +for he had long suspected that something more than friendship +existed between Marshall Langham's wife and Marshall Langham's +friend.</p> +<p>"Damn him!" thought the gambler. "I'll fix him yet!" And he +puffed at his cigar viciously.</p> +<p>He had made sure that North's mysterious visitor was Evelyn +Langham, for when she left the building he himself had followed +her. Out of the dregs of his nature this foolish mad passion of his +had arisen to torture him; he had never spoken with Langham's wife, +probably she knew him by sight, nothing more; but still his game, +the waiting game he had been forced to play, was working itself out +better than he had even hoped! At last he had Marshall Langham +where he wanted him, where he could make him feel his power. +Langham would not be able to raise the money required to cover up +those forgeries, and on the basis of silence he would make his +bargain with the lawyer.</p> +<p>Gilmore pondered this problem for the better part of an hour, +considering it from every conceivable angle; then suddenly the +expression of his face changed, he forgot for the moment his +ambitions and his desires, his hatred and his love; he thought he +heard the click of the old-fashioned latch on the front gate. He +remembered that it could be raised only with difficulty. Next he +heard the sound of footsteps approaching the house. They seemed to +come haltingly down the narrow brick path which the wind had swept +clear of snow.</p> +<p>Mr. Gilmore was blessed with a steadiness of nerve known to but +few men, yet the hour and the occasion had their influence with +him. He stood erect: now the steps which had paused for a moment +seemed to recede; it was as if the intruder, whoever he might be, +had come almost to the front door and had then, for some +inexplicable reason, gone back to the street. Gilmore even imagined +him as standing there with his hand on the latch of the gate. He +was tempted to rouse his two companions, but he did not, and then, +as he still stood with his senses tense, he heard the steps again +approach the front door. With a glance in the direction of the +colonel and his nephew to assure himself that they still slept, +Gilmore rather shamefacedly slipped his right hand under the tails +of his coat, tiptoed into the hall and paused there close by the +parlor door. The steps outside continued, he heard the porch floor +give under a weight, and then some one rapped softly on the +door.</p> +<p>Gilmore waited an instant; the rap was repeated; he stepped to +the door, shot the bolt and opened it. The storm had passed; it was +now cold and clear, a brilliant, starlit, winter's night. He saw +the man on the porch clearly as he stood there with the world in +white at his back. Gilmore instantly recognized him, and his hand +came from under the tails of his coat; he closed the door +softly.</p> +<p>"What sort of a joke is this, Marsh?" he demanded in a +whisper.</p> +<p>"Joke?" repeated the lawyer in a thick husky voice, as he took +an uncertain step toward the gambler.</p> +<p>"Your coming here at this hour; if it isn't a joke, what is +it?"</p> +<p>Gilmore saw that his face was flushed with drink while his eyes +shone with a light he had never seen in them before. He must have +been abroad in the storm for some time, for the snow had lodged in +the rim of his hat and his shoulders were still white with it; now +and again a paroxysm of shivering seized him.</p> +<p>"Whisky chill," thought the gambler. "Come in, Marsh!" he said, +but Langham seemed to draw back instinctively.</p> +<p>"No, I guess not, Andy!" and a sickly pallor overspread his +face.</p> +<p>"What's the matter with you?" demanded Gilmore.</p> +<p>"I want to see you," said the other. "I can't go home yet." He +swayed heavily. "I need to talk to you on a matter of business. +Come on out—come on off of here;" and he led the way down the +porch steps. "Whom have you in there with you?" he questioned when +he had drawn Gilmore a little way along the path.</p> +<p>"The colonel and Watt Harbison."</p> +<p>"No one else?"</p> +<p>"No."</p> +<p>"Do they know I'm here?"</p> +<p>"I guess not, they were asleep two minutes ago."</p> +<p>"That's good. I don't want to see them, I want to see you."</p> +<p>"Wouldn't it keep, Marsh?" asked Gilmore.</p> +<p>"No, sir, it wouldn't keep; I want to tell you just what I think +of you, you damn—"</p> +<p>"Oh, that will keep, Marsh, any time will do for that; anyway, +you have told me something like that already! When you sober +up—"</p> +<p>"Do you think I'm drunk?"</p> +<p>"I don't think anything about it."</p> +<p>"Well, maybe I am, I have been under a strain. But I'm not too +drunk to attend to business; I am never too drunk for that. I wish +to say I have the money—"</p> +<p>His lips twitched, and Gilmore, watching him furtively, saw that +he was again shivering.</p> +<p>"You got what, Marsh?" demanded Gilmore in a whisper.</p> +<p>"The money, the money I owe you!"</p> +<p>"Oh, I see!" He fell back a step and stared at Langham; there +was apprehension dawning in his eyes. "Where did you get it?" he +asked.</p> +<p>But Langham shook his head.</p> +<p>"That's my business; it's enough for you to get your money."</p> +<p>"Well, you were quick about it," said Gilmore, and he rested his +hand on the lawyer's arm.</p> +<p>Langham moved a step aside.</p> +<p>"You threatened me," he said resentfully, but with drunken +dignity. "You were going to smash me; I wish to say that now you +can smash and be damned! I have the money—"</p> +<p>"Oh, come, Marsh! Don't you feel cut up about that; I didn't +mean to make you mad; you mustn't hold that against me!"</p> +<p>"You come to my office to-morrow and get your money," said +Langham, still with dignity. "I've been under a great strain +getting that money, and now I'm done with you—"</p> +<p>Gilmore laughed.</p> +<p>"What are you laughing at?"</p> +<p>"You, you fool! But you aren't done with me; we'll be closer +friends than ever after this. Just now you are too funny for me to +take seriously. You go home and sleep off this drunk; that's my +advice to you! I'd give a good deal to know where you have been and +what sort of a fool you have been making of yourself since I saw +you last!" added Gilmore.</p> +<p>"Don't you worry about me; I'm all right. What I want to say is, +lend me your keys; I can't go home this way—lend me your keys +and I'll go to your rooms and sleep it off."</p> +<p>"All right, Marsh; think you can get there?"</p> +<p>"Of course; I'm all right."</p> +<p>"And you'll go there if I give you my keys—you'll go +nowhere else?"</p> +<p>"Of course I won't, Andy!"</p> +<p>"You won't stop to talk with any one?"</p> +<p>"Who'll I find to talk with at this time of the night?" laughed +the drunken man derisively. "It's three o'clock! Say, Andy, who'll +I find to talk to?"</p> +<p>"By God, I hope no one, you fool!" muttered Gilmore.</p> +<p>"Well, give me the keys, Andy. I'll go along and get to bed, and +I want you to forget this conversation—"</p> +<p>"Oh, I'll forget it all right, Marsh—but you won't after +you come to your senses!" he added under his breath.</p> +<p>"Give me the keys—thanks. Good night, Andy! I'll see you +in the morning."</p> +<p>He reeled uncertainly down the path, cursing his treacherous +footing as he went. At the gate he paused and waved an unsteady +farewell to the gambler, who stood on the porch staring after +him.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_SEVEN" id="CHAPTER_SEVEN"></a>CHAPTER +SEVEN</h2> +<h3>THE BEAUTY OF ELIZABETH</h3> +<p>His interview with Evelyn Langham left North with a sense of +moral nausea, yet he felt he had somehow failed in his +comprehension of her, that she had not meant him to understand her +as he had; that, after all, perhaps the significance he had given +to her words was of his own imagining.</p> +<p>He waited in his room until she should have time to be well on +her way home, then hurried down-stairs. He was to dine at the +Herberts' at seven o'clock, and as their place was but scant two +miles from town, he determined to walk. He crossed the Square, only +stopping to speak with the little lamplighter, and twenty minutes +later Mount Hope, in the cold breath of the storm, had dwindled to +a huddle of faint ghostly lights on the hillside and in the +valley.</p> +<p>The Herbert home, a showy country-place in a region of farms, +merited a name; but no one except Mrs. Herbert, who in the first +flush of possession determined so to dignify it, had ever made use +of the name she had chosen after much deliberation. General Herbert +himself called it simply the farm, while to the neighbors and the +dwellers in Mount Hope it was known as the general's place, which +perhaps sufficiently distinguished it; for its owner was still +always spoken of as the general, though since the war he had been +governor of his state.</p> +<p>Rather less than half a century before, Daniel Herbert, then a +country urchin tending cattle on the hillside where now stood his +turreted stone mansion, had decided that some day when he should be +rich he would return and buy that hillside and the great reach of +flat river-bottom that lay adjacent to it, and there build his +home. His worldly goods at the time of this decision consisted of a +pair of jeans trousers, a hickory shirt, and a battered straw hat. +For years he had forgotten his boyish ambition. He had made his way +in the world; he had won success in his profession, the law; he had +won even greater distinction as a soldier in the Civil War; he had +been a national figure in politics, and he had been governor of his +state. And then had come the country-bred man's hunger for the +soil. He had remembered that hillside where as a boy he had tended +his father's herds.</p> +<p>He was not a rich man, but he had married a rich woman, and it +was her money that bought the many acres and built the +many-turreted mansion. Wishing, perhaps, to mark the impermanency +of the life there and to give it a purely holiday aspect, Mrs. +Herbert had christened the place Idle Hour; but the governor, +beyond occasional participation in local politics, never again +resumed those activities by which he had so distinguished himself. +He wore top-boots and rode about the farm on an old gray horse, +while his intimates were the neighboring farmers, with whom he +talked crops and politics by the hour.</p> +<p>In pained surprise Mrs. Herbert, a woman of great ambition, had +endured five years of this kind of life; with unspeakable +bitterness of spirit she had seen the once potent name of Daniel +Herbert disappear from the newspapers, and then she had died.</p> +<p>On her death the general became a rich and, in a way, a free +man, for now he could, without the silent protest of his wife, +recover the neglected lore of wood and field, and practise +forgotten arts that had in his boyhood come under the elastic head +of chores. Elizabeth, his daughter, had never shared her mother's +ambitions. Perhaps because she had always had it she cared nothing +for society. She was well content to ride about the farm with her +father, whom she greatly admired, and at whose eccentricities she +only smiled.</p> +<p>In this agreeable comradeship with his daughter, General Herbert +had lived through the period of his bereavement with very tolerable +comfort. He had rendered the dead the dead's due of regretful +tenderness; but Elizabeth never asked him when he was going to make +his reëntry into politics; and she never reproached him with +having wasted the very best years of his life in trying to make +four hundred acres of scientifically farmed land show a profit, a +feat he had not yet accomplished.</p> +<p>Quitting the highway, North turned in at two stone pillars that +marked the entrance to Idle Hour and walked rapidly up the +maple-lined driveway to the great arched vestibule that gave to the +house the appearance of a Norman-French château.</p> +<p>Answering the summons of the bell, a maid ushered him into the +long drawing-room, and into the presence of the general and his +daughter. The former received North with a perceptible shade of +reserve. He knew more about the young man than he would have cared +to tell his daughter, since he believed it would be better for her +to make her own discoveries where North was concerned. He had not +opposed his frequent visits to Idle Hour, for he felt that if +Elizabeth was interested in the young fellow opposition would only +strengthen it. Glancing at North as he greeted Elizabeth, the +general admitted that whatever he might be, he was presentable, +indeed good-looking, handsome. Why hadn't he done something other +than make a mess of his life! He wondered, too, wishing to be quite +fair, if North had not been the subject of a good deal of unmerited +censure, if, after all, his idleness had not been the worst thing +about him. He hoped this might be true. Still he regretted that +Elizabeth should have allowed their boy and girl +friendship—they had known each other always—to grow +into a closer intimacy.</p> +<p>In the minds of these two men there was absolute accord on one +point. Either would have said that Elizabeth Herbert's beauty was a +supreme endowment, and more nearly perfect than the beauty of any +other woman. She was slender, not tall, but poised and graceful +with a distinction of bearing that added to her inches. Her hair +was burnished copper and her coloring the tint of warm ivory with +the sunlight showing through. North gazed at her as though he would +store in his memory the vision of her loveliness. Then they walked +out to the dining-room.</p> +<p>The dinner was rather a somber feast. North felt the restraint +of the general's presence; he sensed his disfavor; and with added +bitterness he realized that this was his last night in Mount Hope, +that the morrow would find him speeding on his way West. He had +given up everything for nothing, and now that a purpose, a hope, a +great love had come to him, he must go from this place, the town of +his birth, where he had become a bankrupt in both purse and +reputation.</p> +<p>It was a relief when they returned to the drawing-room. There +the general excused himself, and North and Elizabeth were left +alone. She seated herself before the open fire of blazing hickory +logs, whose light, and that of the shaded lamps, filled the long +room with a soft radiance. She had never seemed so desirable to +North as now when he was about to leave her. He stood silent, +leaning against the corner of the chimneypiece, looking down on all +her springlike radiance. Usually he was neither preoccupied nor +silent, but to-night he was both. The thought that he was seeing +her for the last time—Ah, this was the price of all his +folly! At length he spoke.</p> +<p>"I came to-night to say good-by, Elizabeth!"</p> +<p>She glanced up, startled.</p> +<p>"To say good-by?" she repeated.</p> +<p>He nodded gloomily.</p> +<p>"Do you mean that you are going to leave Mount Hope?" she asked +slowly.</p> +<p>"Yes, to-night maybe."</p> +<p>Her glance no longer met his, but he was conscious that she had +lost something of her serenity.</p> +<p>"Are you sorry, Elizabeth?" he ventured.</p> +<p>To pass mutely out of her life had suddenly seemed an +impossibility, and his tenderness and yearning trembled in his +voice. She answered obliquely, by asking:</p> +<p>"Must you go?"</p> +<p>"I want to get away from Mount Hope. I want to leave it +all,—all but you, dear!" he said. "You haven't answered me, +Elizabeth; will you care?"</p> +<p>"I am sorry," she said slowly, and the light in her gray-blue +eyes darkened.</p> +<p>She heard the sigh that wasted itself on his lips.</p> +<p>"I am glad you can say that,—I wish you would look up!" he +said wistfully.</p> +<p>"Are you going to-night?" she questioned.</p> +<p>"Yes, but I am coming back. I shan't find that you have +forgotten me when I come, shall I, Elizabeth?"</p> +<p>She looked up quickly into his troubled face, and it was not the +warm firelight that brought the rich color in a sudden flame to her +cheeks.</p> +<p>"I shall not forget you."</p> +<p>There was a determined gentleness in her speech and manner that +gave him courage.</p> +<p>"I haven't any right to talk to you in this way; I know I +haven't, but—Oh, I want you, Elizabeth!" And all at once he +was on his knees beside her, his arms about her. "Don't forget me, +dear! I love you, I Love you—I want you—Oh, I want you +for my wife!"</p> +<p>The girl looked into the passionate face upturned to hers, and +then her head drooped. And so they remained long; his dark head +resting in her arms; her fair face against it.</p> +<p>"Why do you go, John?" she asked at length, out of the rich +content of their silence.</p> +<p>"I haven't any choice, dear heart; there isn't any place for me +here. I have thought it all over, and I know I am doing the wise +thing,—I am quite sure of this! I shall write you of +everything that concerns me!" he added hastily, as he heard the +tread of the general's slippered feet in the hall.</p> +<p>North released her hands as the general entered the room. +Elizabeth sank back in her chair. Her father glanced sharply at +them, and North turned toward him frankly.</p> +<p>"I am leaving on the midnight train, General, and I must say +good-by; I have to get a few things together for my trip!"</p> +<p>General Herbert glanced again at Elizabeth, but her face was +averted and he learned nothing from its expression.</p> +<p>"So you are going away! Well, North, I hope you will have a +pleasant trip,—better let me send you into town?"</p> +<p>And he reached for the bell-rope. North shook his head.</p> +<p>"I'll walk, thank you," he said briefly.</p> +<p>In silence he turned to Elizabeth and held out his hand. For an +instant she rested hers in it, a cold little hand that trembled; +their eyes met in a brief glance of perfect understanding, and then +North turned from her. The general followed him into the hall.</p> +<p>"It's stopped snowing, and you will have clear starlight for +your walk home,—the wind's gone down, too!" he said, as he +opened the hall door.</p> +<p>"Don't come any farther, General Herbert!" said North.</p> +<p>But the general followed him into the stone arched +vestibule.</p> +<p>"It's a fine night for your walk,—but you're quite sure +you don't want to be driven into town?"</p> +<p>"No, no,—good night." And North held out his hand.</p> +<p>"Good night."</p> +<p>North went down the carriageway, and Herbert reëntered the +house.</p> +<p>North kept to the beaten path for a little while, then left it +and tramped out across the fields until he came to a strip of +woodland that grew along a stony hillside. He followed this ridge +back a short distance and presently emerged upon a sloping meadow +that overhung a narrow ravine. Not two hundred yards distant loomed +Idle Hour, somber and dark and massive. He found a stump on the +edge of the woods and brushed the snow from it, then drawing his +overcoat closely about him, he sat down and lit his pipe.</p> +<p>The windows of Idle Hour still showed their many lights. At his +feet a thread-like stream, swollen by the recent rains, splashed +and murmured ceaselessly. He sat there a long time silent and +absorbed, watching the lights, until at last they vanished from the +drawing-room and the library. Then other lights appeared behind +curtained windows on the second floor. These in their turn were +extinguished, and Idle Hour sank deeper into the shadows as the +crescent moon slipped behind the horizon.</p> +<p>"God bless her!" North said aloud.</p> +<p>He knocked the ashes from his pipe, and retraced his steps to +the drive. He had but turned from this into the public road when he +heard the clatter of wheels and the beat of hoofs, and a rapidly +driven team swung around a bend in the road in front of him. He +stepped aside to let it pass, but the driver pulled up abreast of +him with a loud command to his horses.</p> +<p>"Heard the news?" he asked, leaning out over the dash-board of +his buggy.</p> +<p>"What news?" asked North.</p> +<p>"Oh, I guess you haven't heard!" said the stranger. "Well, old +man McBride, the hardware merchant, is dead! Murdered!"</p> +<p>"Murdered!" cried North.</p> +<p>"Yes, sir,—murdered! They found him in his store this +evening a little after six. No one knows who did it. Well, good +night, I thought maybe you'd like to know. Awful, ain't it?"</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_EIGHT" id="CHAPTER_EIGHT"></a>CHAPTER +EIGHT</h2> +<h3>A GAMBLER AT HOME</h3> +<p>It was morning, and Mr. Gilmore sat by his cheerful open fire in +that front room of his, where by night were supposed to flourish +those games of chance which were such an offense to the "better +element" in Mount Hope. Mr. Gilmore was hardly a person of +unexceptional taste, though he had no suspicion of this fact, since +he counted that room quite all that any gentleman's parlor should +be.</p> +<p>It was a large room furnished in dark velvet and heavy walnut. +The red velvet curtains at the windows, when drawn at night, +permitted no ray of light to escape; the carpet was a gorgeous +Brussels affair, the like of which both as to cost and enduring +splendor was not to be found elsewhere on any floor in Mount Hope. +Seated as he then was, Gilmore could look, if so disposed, at the +reflection of his own dark but not unhandsome face in a massive +gilt-framed mirror that reached from chimneypiece to ceiling; or, +glancing about the room, his eyes could dwell with genuine artistic +pleasure on numerous copies in crayon of French figure-studies; nor +were the like of these to be found elsewhere in Mount Hope.</p> +<p>Gilmore had quitted the McBride cottage some three hours before, +and in the interim had breakfasted well and napped abstemiously. +Presently he must repair to the court-house, where, it had already +been intimated, the coroner might wish to confer with him.</p> +<p>Marshall Langham he had not seen. He had expected to find him +still in his rooms, but the lawyer had left the key under the mat +at the door, presumably at an early hour. Gilmore wondered idly if +Langham had not made a point of getting away before he himself +should arrive; he rather thought so, and he smiled with cheerful +malevolence at his own reflection in the mirror.</p> +<p>Here his reveries were broken in on by the awkward shuffling of +heavy feet in the hallway, and then some one knocked loudly on his +door. Gilmore glanced hastily about to assure himself that the +tell-tale paraphernalia of his craft were nowhere visible, and that +the room was all he liked to fancy it—the parlor of a +gentleman with sufficient income and quiet taste.</p> +<p>"Come in," he called at last, without quitting his chair.</p> +<p>The door slowly opened and the crown of a battered cap first +appeared, then a long face streaked with coal-dust and grime and +further decorated about the chin by a violently red stubble of +several days' growth. With so much of himself showing; the +new-comer paused on the threshold in apparent doubt as to whether +he would be permitted to enter, or ordered to withdraw.</p> +<p>"Come in, Joe, and shut the door!" said Gilmore.</p> +<p>At his bidding the shoulders and trunk, and lastly the legs of a +slouching shambling man of forty-eight or fifty entered the +room.</p> +<p>Closing the door Joe Montgomery slipped off one patched and +ragged cloth mitten and removed his battered cap.</p> +<p>"Well, what the devil do you want?" demanded Gilmore +sharply.</p> +<p>Joe, shuffling and shambling, edged toward the grate.</p> +<p>"Boss, I want to drop a word with you!" he said in a husky +voice. His glance did not quite meet Gilmore's, but the moment +Gilmore shifted his gaze, that moment Joe's small, bright blue eyes +sought the gambler's.</p> +<p>Gilmore and Joe Montgomery were distantly related, and while the +latter never presumed on the score of this remote connection, the +gambler himself tacitly admitted it by the help he now and then +extended him, for Montgomery's means of subsistence were at the +best precarious. If he had been called on to do so, he would have +described himself as a handy-man, since he lived by the doing of +odd jobs. He cleaned carpets in the spring; he cut lawns in the +summer; in the fall he carried coal into the cellars of Mount Hope, +and in the winter he shoveled the snow off Mount Hope's pavements; +and at all times and in all seasons, whether these industries +flourished or languished, he drank.</p> +<p>He now established himself on Mr. Gilmore's hearth,—a +necessity—for he bent his hulking body and stuck his curly +red head well into the grate; then as he withdrew it, he passed the +back of his hand across his discolored lip.</p> +<p>"Excuse me, boss, I had to!" he apologized.</p> +<p>In Mr. Gilmore's presence Joe inclined toward a humble decency, +for he was vaguely aware that he was an unclean thing, and that +only the mysterious bond of blood gave him this rich and powerful +patron.</p> +<p>"Well, you old sot!" said Gilmore pleasantly. "You haven't drunk +yourself to death since I saw you in McBride's last night?"</p> +<p>The handy-man gave him a wide toothless grin, and his bashful +blue eyes shifted, shuttle-wise, in their sockets until he was able +to survey in full the splendor of the apartment.</p> +<p>"Boss, you got a sure-enough well-dressed room; I never seen +anything that could hold a candle to it,—it's a bird!" He +stole a shy abashed glance at the pictures on the wall, but +becoming aware that Gilmore was watching him, he dropped his eyes +in some confusion. "I reckon' them female pictures cost a fortune!" +he said.</p> +<p>"They cost enough!" rejoined Gilmore, and again Montgomery +ventured a covert glance in the direction of one of the works of +art.</p> +<p>"I reckon it was summer-time!" he hinted modestly.</p> +<p>Gilmore laughed.</p> +<p>"How would you like one of them?" he asked.</p> +<p>Montgomery gave him a swift glance of alarm.</p> +<p>"No, boss, I'm a respectable married man, and if I lugged one of +them ladies home with me, my old woman wouldn't do a thing but +raise hell! Boss, they're raw; yes, sir, that's it—they're +raw!" Then fearing he had gone too far in an adverse criticism, he +added, "Friends of yours, boss?"</p> +<p>"Not all of them!" said Gilmore, with lazy amusement.</p> +<p>"Catched unawares?" hinted Montgomery. But Gilmore changed the +subject abruptly.</p> +<p>"Well, what did you come here for?" he demanded.</p> +<p>"I got a lot of things on my mind, boss! I been a-worryin' all +morning and then I thinks of you. 'Mr. Gilmore's the man to go to,' +I tells myself, and I quit my job and come here."</p> +<p>He stuck his head into the grate again, but this time without +apology.</p> +<p>"I suppose you are in trouble?" said Gilmore, and his genial +mood seemed to chill suddenly.</p> +<p>"You're right, boss, I'm in a heap of trouble!"</p> +<p>"Well, then, clear out of here!" said Gilmore.</p> +<p>"Hold on, boss, it ain't that kind of trouble" interposed the +handy-man hastily.</p> +<p>"What do you want?"</p> +<p>"Advice."</p> +<p>Gilmore leaned back in his easy-chair and crossed his legs.</p> +<p>"Go on!" he ordered briefly.</p> +<p>"A handy-man like me doin' all kinds of jobs for all kinds of +people is sure to see some curious things, ain't he, boss?"</p> +<p>"Well?"</p> +<p>"I'm here to tell you what I seen, boss; and every word of it +will be God A'mighty's truth!"</p> +<p>"It had better be!" rejoined Gilmore quietly, but with +significant emphasis.</p> +<p>"I don't want no better friend than you been to me," said +Montgomery in a sudden burst of grateful candor. "You've paid two +fines for me, and you done what you could for me that time I was +sent up, when old man Murphy said he found me in his +hen-house."</p> +<p>Gilmore nodded.</p> +<p>"I was outrageous put upon! The judge appointed that fellow +Moxlow to defend me! Say, it was a hell of a defense he put up, and +I had a friend who was willin' to swear he'd seen me in the alley +back of Mike Lonigan's saloon cleaning spittoons when old man +Murphy said I was in his chicken house; Moxlow said he wouldn't +touch my case except on its merits, and the only merit it had was +that friend, ready and willin' to swear to anything!" Montgomery +shrugged his great slanting shoulders. "He's too damn +perpendicular!"</p> +<p>"He is," agreed Gilmore. "But what's this got to do with what +you saw?"</p> +<p>"Not a thing; but it makes me sweat blood whenever I think of +the trick Moxlow served me,—it ain't as if I had no one but +myself! I got a family, see? <i>I</i> can't afford to go to +jail,—it ain't as if I was single!"</p> +<p>"Get back to your starting-point, Joe!" said Gilmore.</p> +<p>"Who do you think killed old man McBride, boss?"</p> +<p>"How should I know?"</p> +<p>"You ain't got any ideas about that?" asked Montgomery.</p> +<p>Gilmore shot him a swift glance.</p> +<p>"I don't know whether I have or not," he replied.</p> +<p>"I have, boss."</p> +<p>"You?" His tone betrayed neither eagerness nor interest.</p> +<p>"That's what fetches me here, boss!" Joe replied, sinking his +voice to a whisper. "I got a damn good notion who killed old +McBride; I could go out on the street and put my hand on the man +who done it!"</p> +<p>"You mustn't come here with these pipe dreams of yours, Joe; you +have been drunk and all this talk about the McBride murder's gone +to your head!" retorted Gilmore contemptuously.</p> +<p>"I hope I may die if I ain't as sober as you this minute, boss!" +returned the handy-man impressively.</p> +<p>"Well, what do you know—or think you know?" asked Gilmore +with affected indifference.</p> +<p>"Boss, did I ever lie to you?" demanded Montgomery.</p> +<p>"If you did I never found you out."</p> +<p>"And why? You never had no chance to find me out; for the reason +that I always tell you the almighty everlastin' truth!"</p> +<p>"Well?" prompted Mr. Gilmore.</p> +<p>"Boss," and again Montgomery dropped his voice to a confidential +whisper, "boss, I seen a man climb over old man McBride's shed +yesterday just before six. I seen him come up on top of the shed +from the inside, look all around, slide down to the eaves and drop +into the alley, and then streak off as if all hell was after +him!"</p> +<p>Gilmore's features were under such admirable control that they +betrayed nothing of what was passing in his mind.</p> +<p>"Stuff!" he ejaculated at last, disdainfully.</p> +<p>"You think I lie, boss?" cried Montgomery, in an intense +whisper.</p> +<p>"You know best about that," said Gilmore quietly.</p> +<p>"He come so close to me I could feel his breath in my face! +Boss, he was puffin' and pantin' and his breath burnt,—yes, +sir, it burnt; and I heard him say, 'Oh, my God!' like that, 'Oh, +my God!'"</p> +<p>"And where were you when this happened?" demanded Gilmore with +sudden sternness.</p> +<p>Montgomery hesitated.</p> +<p>"What's that got to do with it, boss?"</p> +<p>"A whole lot; come, out with it. Where were you to see and hear +all this?"</p> +<p>"I was in White's woodshed," said Montgomery rather +sullenly.</p> +<p>"Oh, ho, you were up to your old tricks!"</p> +<p>"He'll never miss it; I couldn't freeze to death; there's a +livin' comin' to me," said the handy-man doggedly.</p> +<p>"You'll probably have a try for it back of iron bars!" said +Gilmore.</p> +<p>But it was plain that Montgomery did not enjoy Mr. Gilmore's +humor.</p> +<p>"White's coal house is right acrost the alley from old McBride's +shed. You can go look, boss, if you don't believe me, and there's a +small door opening out on to the alley, where the coal is put +in."</p> +<p>"All the same you should keep out of people's coal houses, or +one of these days you'll bring off more than you bargained for; say +a load of shot."</p> +<p>"Maybe you'd like to know who I seen come over that roof?" said +the handy-man impatiently.</p> +<p>"How many people have you told this yarn to already?" asked +Gilmore, who seemed more anxious to discredit the handy-man in his +own eyes than anything else.</p> +<p>"Not a living soul, boss; I guess I know enough to hang a +man—"</p> +<p>"Pooh!" said Gilmore.</p> +<p>"You don't believe me?"</p> +<p>"Yes, I'll believe that you were stealing White's coal."</p> +<p>"Leave me tell it to you just as it happened, boss," said +Montgomery. "Then if you say I lie, I won't answer you back; we'll +let it go at that."</p> +<p>Gilmore appeared to consider for a moment, his look of mingled +indifference and contempt had quite passed away.</p> +<p>"I guess it sounds straight, Joe!" he said at length slowly.</p> +<p>"Why? Because it <i>is</i> straight, every damn word of it, +boss."</p> +<p>And as if to give emphasis to his words the handy-man swung out +a grimy fist and dropped it into an equally grimy palm.</p> +<p>"What did you do after that?" asked Gilmore.</p> +<p>"Not much. I laid low and presently lifted my sack of coal out +and ducked around to Lonigan's saloon. I went in there by the back +door and left my sack leanin' against the building. Mike wanted his +mail and he give me a drink of whisky if I'd take his keys and go +to the post-office for him; I'd just come into the Square when I +run into Shrimp who was tellin' how old man McBride was murdered. I +went into the store and found you there with Colonel Harbison, you +remember, boss?" Gilmore nodded and Montgomery continued. "I hadn't +a chance to tell you what I'd seen, and all night long I kept +hearin' him say it!"</p> +<p>"Say what, Joe?"</p> +<p>"Say, 'Oh, my God!' like I told you, boss; I couldn't sleep for +it,—I wonder if he slept!"</p> +<p>"Joe," said the gambler, "I'll tell you something that I have +only told the sheriff. I was in Langham's office late yesterday and +John North was there; he left to go to McBride's. Conklin's been +looking for him this morning, but he can't find him, and no one +seems to know what's become of him. Do you follow me?"</p> +<p>"What's North got to do with it, boss?"</p> +<p>"How do you know it wasn't North you saw in the alley?" urged +Gilmore.</p> +<p>"It were not!" said Joe Montgomery positively.</p> +<p>"You saw the man's face?"</p> +<p>"As plain as I see yours!"</p> +<p>"And you know the man?"</p> +<p>"Yes."</p> +<p>"Then I'll tell you who you saw," said the gambler coolly; "it +was Marshall Langham."</p> +<p>The handy-man swore a great oath.</p> +<p>"You've guessed it, boss! You've guessed it."</p> +<p>"It ain't a guess as it happens."</p> +<p>"Boss, do you mean to tell me you knew all along?" demanded +Montgomery incredulously.</p> +<p>"Yes."</p> +<p>"But what about North?"</p> +<p>"That's his lookout, let him clear himself."</p> +<p>Joe, shambling and shuffling, took a turn about the room.</p> +<p>"Boss, if it was me that stood in his boots the halter would be +as good as about my neck; they wouldn't give me no chance to clear +myself,—they wouldn't let me! Them smart lawyers would twist +and turn everything I said so that God A'mighty wouldn't know His +own truth!"</p> +<p>"Well, you were in that alley, Joe; if you feel for him, I +expect we could somehow shift it to you!" said Gilmore.</p> +<p>The handy-man slouched to the hearth again.</p> +<p>"None of that, boss!" he cried. "I've told you what took me +there, so none of that!"</p> +<p>His voice shook with suppressed feeling, as he stood there +scowling down on the gambler.</p> +<p>"Sit down, Joe!" said Mr. Gilmore, unruffled.</p> +<p>Reluctantly the handy-man sank into the chair indicated.</p> +<p>"Now you old sot," began the gambler, "you listen to me! I +suppose if they could shift suspicion so that it would appear you +had had something to do with the old man's murder, it would take +Moxlow and the judge and any decent jury no time at all to hang +you; for who would care a damn whether you were hanged or not! But +you needn't worry, I'm going to manage this thing for you, I'm +going to see that you don't get into trouble. Now, listen, you're +to let well enough alone. North is already under suspicion +apparently. All right, we'll help that suspicion along. If you have +anything to tell, you'll say that the man who came over that shed +looked like North!"</p> +<p>"Boss, I won't say a word about the shed or the alley!"</p> +<p>"Oh, yes you will, Joe! The man looked like North,—you +remember, at the time you thought he looked like North, and you +thought you recognized his voice when he spoke, and you thought it +was North's voice. He had on a black derby hat and a dark brown +overcoat; don't forget that, Joe, for we are going to furnish young +Mr. North with a bunch of worries."</p> +<p>The handy-man looked at him doubtfully, sullenly.</p> +<p>"I don't want to hang <i>him</i>, he's always treated <i>me</i> +white enough, though I never liked him to hurt."</p> +<p>Gilmore laughed unpleasantly.</p> +<p>"Oh, there's no chance of that, your evidence won't hang him, +but it will give him a whole lot to think about; and Langham's a +pretty decent fellow; if you treat him right, he'll keep you drunk +for the rest of your days; you'll own him body and soul."</p> +<p>"A ignorant man like me couldn't go up against a sharp lawyer +like Marsh Langham! Do you know what'd happen to me? I'll tell you; +I'd get so damned well fixed I'd never look at daylight except +through jail windows; that's the trick I'd serve myself, boss."</p> +<p>"I'll take that off your hands," said Gilmore.</p> +<p>"And what do you get out of it, boss?" inquired the astute Mr. +Montgomery.</p> +<p>"You'll have to put your trust in my benevolence, Joe!" said the +gambler. "But I am willing to admit I want to see North put where +he'll have every inducement to attend strictly to his own +business!"</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_NINE" id="CHAPTER_NINE"></a>CHAPTER NINE</h2> +<h3>THE STAR WITNESS</h3> +<p>It was between nine and ten o'clock when Marshall Langham +reached his office. He scarcely had time to remove his hat and +overcoat when a policeman entered the room and handed him a note. +It was a hasty scrawl from Moxlow who wished him to come at once to +the court-house.</p> +<p>As Moxlow's messenger quitted the room Langham leaned against +his desk with set lips and drawn face; this was but the beginning +of the ordeal through which he must pass! Then slowly he resumed +his hat and overcoat.</p> +<p>The prosecuting attorney's office was on the second floor of the +court-house, at the back of the building, and its windows +overlooked the court-house yard.</p> +<p>On the steps and in the long corridors, men stood about, +discussing the murder. Langham pushed his way resolutely through +these groups and mounted the stairs. Moxlow's door was locked, as +he found when he tried to open it, but in response to his knock a +bolt was drawn and a policeman swung open the door, closing it the +instant Marshall had entered.</p> +<p>Langham glanced around. Doctor Taylor—the +coroner—was seated before the desk; aside from this official +Colonel Harbison, Andy Gilmore, Shrimplin, Moxlow, Mr. Allison, the +mayor, Conklin, the sheriff, and two policemen were present.</p> +<p>"Thank you, that is all, Mr. Gilmore," the coroner had said as +Langham entered the room.</p> +<p>He turned and motioned one of the policemen to place a chair for +the prosecuting attorney beside his own at the desk.</p> +<p>"As you know, Mr. Moxlow," the coroner began, "these gentlemen, +Mr. Shrimplin, Colonel Harbison and Mr. Gilmore, were the first to +view the murdered man. Later I was summoned, and with the sheriff +spent the greater part of the night in making an examination of the +building. We found no clue. The murderer had gone without leaving +any trace of his passing. It is probable he entered by the front +door, which Mr. Shrimplin found open, and left by the side door, +which was also open, but the crowd gathered so quickly both in the +yard and in the street, that it has been useless to look for +footprints in the freshly fallen snow. One point is quite clear, +however, and that is the hour when the crime was committed. We can +fix that almost to a certainty. The murderer did his work between +half past five and six o'clock. Mr. Shrimplin has just informed us +that the only person he saw on the Square, until he met Colonel +Harbison, was John North, whom he encountered within a block of +McBride's store and with whom he spoke. While Mr. Shrimplin stopped +to speak with Mr. North the town bell rang the hour—six +o'clock."</p> +<p>The coroner paused.</p> +<p>There was a moment's silence, then Marshall Langham made a half +step forward. A sudden palsy had seized him, yet he was determined +to speak; he felt that he must be heard, that he had something +vital to say. An impulse he could not control compelled him to turn +in the direction of Andy Gilmore, and for a brief instant his eyes +fastened themselves on the gambler, who returned his gaze with a +cynical smile, as though to say: "You haven't the nerve to do it." +With the tip of his tongue Langham moistened his swollen lips. He +was about to speak now, and Gilmore, losing his former air of bored +indifference, leaned forward, eager to catch every word.</p> +<p>"I would like to say," he began in a tolerably steady voice, +"that North left my office at half past four o'clock yesterday +afternoon intending to see Mr. McBride; indeed, happening to glance +from my window, I saw him enter the store. Before he left my office +he had explained the business that was taking him to McBride's; we +had discussed it at some length."</p> +<p>"What took him to McBride's?" demanded Doctor Taylor.</p> +<p>"He went there to raise money on some local gas company bonds +which he owned. Mr. McBride had agreed to buy them from him. I was +able to tell North that I knew McBride could let him have the money +in spite of the fact that it was a holiday and the banks were +closed."</p> +<p>"How did you happen to know that, Langham?" asked Moxlow.</p> +<p>"Earlier in the day one of my clients had placed in McBride's +hand a much larger sum of money than North expected to receive from +him."</p> +<p>"You told North that?" asked Moxlow eagerly.</p> +<p>"I did. Perhaps you are not aware that McBride and North were on +friendly terms; for years it had been North's habit to go to Mr. +McBride whenever he had a sudden need of money. This I know to be a +fact."</p> +<p>He glanced about him and could see that what he had said was +making its impression on his hearers.</p> +<p>"When did you see McBride, at what hour?" asked Moxlow.</p> +<p>"A little before two."</p> +<p>"Do you feel at liberty to state the sum paid by your +client?"</p> +<p>"It was three thousand and fifty-seven dollars, all in +cash."</p> +<p>"There are one or two more questions I should like to ask you," +said Moxlow. "You saw the money paid into Mr. McBride's hands +before two o'clock yesterday afternoon?"</p> +<p>"Yes."</p> +<p>"Do you know what disposition he made of the money?"</p> +<p>"No, I do not."</p> +<p>"I mean, did he put it in his safe—in his +pocket—"</p> +<p>"He did neither in my presence, the bundle of bills was lying on +his desk when I left."</p> +<p>"You were not interrupted while you were transacting this +business, no customer happened into the store?" asked Moxlow.</p> +<p>"So far as I know, we three were absolutely alone in the +building."</p> +<p>"Afterward, when North called at your office, you mentioned this +transaction?"</p> +<p>"Yes."</p> +<p>"Do you know how many shares Mr. North expected to dispose +of?"</p> +<p>"Five, I think."</p> +<p>Langham paused and glanced again in the direction of the +gambler, but Gilmore seemed to have lost all interest in what was +passing.</p> +<p>Moxlow turned to Conklin.</p> +<p>"You found no such sum as Mr. Langham mentions, either on the +person of the dead man, or in the safe?"</p> +<p>"No, the safe doors were standing open; as far as I am able to +judge, the valuable part of its contents had been removed," replied +the sheriff.</p> +<p>"How about McBride himself?"</p> +<p>"We found nothing in his pockets."</p> +<p>"Of course, if he bought North's bonds, that would account for a +part of the sum Mr. Langham has just told us of," said Moxlow. "But +where are the bonds?" he added.</p> +<p>"They were not among McBride's papers, that's sure," said the +sheriff.</p> +<p>"Probably they were taken also, though it's hardly conceivable +that the murderer waited to sort over the papers in the safe. I +tell you, gentlemen, his position was a ticklish one." It was the +coroner who spoke.</p> +<p>"It would seem a very desirable thing to communicate with +North," suggested Moxlow.</p> +<p>"I guess you are right; yes, I guess we had better try and find +Mr. North," said the coroner. "Suppose you go after him, Mr. +Conklin. Don't send—go yourself," he added.</p> +<p>Again Langham dragged himself forward; the coils of this hideous +thing seemed to be tightening themselves about John North. +Langham's face still bore traces of his recent debauch, and during +the last few minutes a look of horror had slowly gathered in his +bloodshot eyes. He now studiously avoided Gilmore's glance, though +he was painfully aware of his presence. The gambler coolly puffed +at a cigar as he leaned against the casing of the long window at +Doctor Taylor's back; there was the faint shadow of a smile on his +lips as he watched Langham furtively.</p> +<p>"I doubt if North will be found," said the latter. "I doubt if +he is in Mount Hope," he continued haltingly.</p> +<p>"What?" It was Moxlow who spoke.</p> +<p>"This morning I received a brief communication from him; it was +written late last night; he informed me that he should leave for +the West on the Chicago express. He inclosed the keys to his +rooms."</p> +<p>Marshall Langham glanced at Gilmore, who seemed deeply absorbed. +The coroner fidgeted in his seat; dismay and unspeakable surprise +were plainly stamped on Colonel Harbison's face; Moxlow appeared +quite nonplussed by what his partner had last said.</p> +<p>"I was aware that he contemplated this trip West," said Langham +quickly. "He had asked me to dispose of the contents of his rooms +when he should be gone."</p> +<p>"Did he tell you where he was going, Marshall?" asked +Moxlow.</p> +<p>Langham raised his bloodshot eyes.</p> +<p>"No; he seemed in some doubt as to his plans."</p> +<p>"For how long a time have you known of Mr. North's intention to +leave Mount Hope?" asked Moxlow.</p> +<p>"Only since yesterday, but I have known for quite a while that +he planned some radical move of this sort. I think he had grown +rather tired of Mount Hope."</p> +<p>"Isn't it true that his money was about gone?" questioned Moxlow +significantly.</p> +<p>"I know nothing of his private affairs," answered Langham +hastily. "He has never seemed to lack money; he has always had it +to spend freely."</p> +<p>"It would appear that Mr. North is our star witness; what do you +think, gentlemen?" and Moxlow glanced from one to another of the +little group that surrounded him.</p> +<p>"At any rate he is a most <i>important</i> witness," emphasized +the coroner.</p> +<p>"North took the Chicago express as he had planned," said Gilmore +quietly. "The bus driver for the United States Hotel, where I +breakfasted, told me that he saw him at the depot last night."</p> +<p>"I think we'd better wire North's description to the Chicago +police; I see no other way to reach him." As he spoke, Moxlow +turned to the sheriff. "You get ready to start West, Mr. Conklin. +And don't let there be any hitch about it, either."</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_TEN" id="CHAPTER_TEN"></a>CHAPTER TEN</h2> +<h3>HUSBAND AND WIFE</h3> +<p>Marshall Langham paused on the court-house steps; he was shaking +as with an ague. He passed a tremulous hand again and again across +his eyes, as though to shut out something, a memory—a fantasy +he wanted to forget; but he well knew that at no time could he +forget. Gilmore, coming from the building, stepped to his side.</p> +<p>"Well, Marsh, what do you think?" he said.</p> +<p>"What do I think?" the lawyer, repeated dully.</p> +<p>"Doesn't it seem to you that Jack North has been rather unlucky +in his movements?"</p> +<p>"Oh, they make me tired!" cried Langham, with sudden +passion.</p> +<p>Gilmore stared at him, coldly critical. The lawyer moved +away.</p> +<p>"Going to your office, Marsh?" the gambler asked.</p> +<p>"No, I'm going home," Langham said shortly, and went down the +steps into the street.</p> +<p>Home—until he could pull up and get control of himself, +that was the best place for him!</p> +<p>He turned into the Square, and from the Square into High Street, +and ten minutes later paused before his own door. After a brief +instant of irresolution he entered the house. Evelyn was probably +down-town at that hour, on one of the many errands she was always +making for herself.</p> +<p>Without removing his hat or overcoat he dropped into a chair +before the library fire. A devastating weariness possessed him, but +he knew he could not hide there in his home. To-day he might, +to-morrow even, but the time would come when he must go out and +face the world, must listen to the endless speculation concerning +Mount Hope's one great sensation, the McBride murder. Five minutes +passed while he sat lost in thought, then he quitted his chair and +went to a small cabinet at the other side of the room, which he +unlocked; from it he took a glass and a bottle. With these he +returned to his place before the fire and poured himself a stiff +drink.</p> +<p>"I was mad!" he said with quivering lips. "Mad!" he repeated, +and again he passed his shaking hand across his eyes. Once more he +filled his glass and emptied it, for the potent stuff gave him a +certain kind of courage. Placing the bottle and glass on the table +at his elbow, he resumed his seat.</p> +<p>The bottle was almost empty when, half an hour later, he heard +the house door open and close. It was Evelyn. Presently she came +into the room, still dressed as if for the street.</p> +<p>"Why, what's the matter, Marsh?" she asked in surprise.</p> +<p>"Matter? Nothing," he said shortly.</p> +<p>She glanced at the bottle and then at her husband.</p> +<p>"Aren't you well?" she demanded.</p> +<p>"I'm all right."</p> +<p>"I hope you aren't going to start that now!" and she nodded +toward the bottle.</p> +<p>He made an impatient gesture.</p> +<p>"Marshall, I am going to speak to the judge; perhaps if he knew +he could do or say something; I am not going to bear this burden +alone any longer!"</p> +<p>"Oh, what's the use of beginning that; can't you see I'm done +up?" he said petulantly.</p> +<p>"I don't wonder; the way you live is enough to do any one up, as +you call it; it's intolerable!" she cried.</p> +<p>"What does it matter to you?"</p> +<p>"It makes a brute of you; it's killing you!"</p> +<p>"The sooner the better," he said.</p> +<p>"For you, perhaps; but what about me?"</p> +<p>"Don't you ever think of any one but yourself?" he sneered.</p> +<p>"Is that the way it impresses you?" she asked coldly.</p> +<p>She slipped into the chair opposite him and began slowly to draw +off her gloves. Langham was silent for a minute or two; he gazed +intently at her and by degrees the hard steely glitter faded from +his heavy bloodshot eyes. Fascinated, his glance dwelt upon her; +nothing of her fresh beauty was lost on him; the smooth curve of +her soft white throat, the alluring charm of her warm sensuous +lips, the tiny dimple that came and went when she smiled, the +graceful pliant lines of her figure, the rare poise of her small +head—his glance observed all. For better or for worse he +loved her with whatever of the man there was in him; he might hate +her in some sudden burst of fierce anger because of her +shallowness, her greed, her utter selfishness; but he loved her +always, he could never be wholly free from the spell her beauty had +cast over him.</p> +<div class="figcenter"><br /> +<a href="images/136.jpg"><img src="images/136.jpg" width="45%" alt= +"" title="" /></a><br /> +<b>"Why, what's the matter, Marsh?"</b> +<br /></div> +<p>"Look here, Evelyn," he said at last. "What's the use of going +on in this way, why can't we get back to some decent +understanding?" He was hungry for tenderness from her; acute +physical fear was holding him in its grip. He leaned back in his +chair and found support for his head. "You're right," he went on, +"I can't stand this racket much longer—this work and worry; +we are living beyond our means; we'll have to slow up, get down to +a more sane basis." The words came from his blue lips in jerky +disjointed sentences. "What's the use, it's too much of a struggle! +I do a thousand things I don't want to do, shady things in my +practice, things no reputable lawyer should stoop to, and all to +make a few dollars to throw away. I tell you, I am sick of it! Why +can't we be as other people, reasonable and patient—that's +the thing, to be patient, and just bide our time. We can't live +like millionaires on my income, what's the use of trying—I +tell you we are fools!"</p> +<p>"Are matters so desperate with us?" Evelyn asked. "And is it all +my fault?"</p> +<p>"I can't do anything to pull up unless you help, me," Langham +said.</p> +<p>"Well, are matters so desperate?" she repeated.</p> +<p>He did not answer her at once.</p> +<p>"Bad enough," he replied at length and was silent.</p> +<p>A sense of terrible loneliness swept over him; a loneliness +peopled with shadows, in which he was the only living thing, but +the shadows were infinitely more real than he himself. He had the +brute instinct to hide, and the human instinct to share his fear. +He poured himself a drink. Evelyn watched him with compressed lips +as he drained the glass. He drew himself up out of the depths of +his chair and began to tramp the floor; words leaped to his lips +but he pressed them back; he was aware that only the most +intangible barriers held between them; an impulse that grew in his +throbbing brain seemed driving him forward to destroy these +barriers; to stand before her as he was; to emerge from his mental +solitude and claim her companionship. What was marriage made for, +if not for this?</p> +<p>"Look here," he said, wheeling on her suddenly. "Do you still +love me; do you still care as you once did?" He seized one of her +hands in his.</p> +<p>"You hurt me, Marsh!" she said, drawing away from him.</p> +<p>He dropped her hand and with a smothered oath turned from +her.</p> +<p>"You women don't know what love is!" he snarled. "Talk about a +woman giving up; talk about her sacrifices—it's nothing to +what a man does, where he loves!"</p> +<p>"What does <i>he</i> do that is so wonderful, Marsh?" she asked +coldly.</p> +<p>He paused and regarded her with a wolfish glare.</p> +<p>"It's no damned anemic passion!" he burst out.</p> +<p>"Thank you," she mocked. "Really, Marsh, you are outdoing +yourself!"</p> +<p>"You have never let me see into your heart,—never +once!"</p> +<p>"Perhaps it's just as well I haven't; perhaps it is a +forbearance for which you should be only grateful," she jeered.</p> +<p>"If you were the sort of woman I once thought you, I'd want to +hide nothing from you; but a woman—she's secretive and petty, +she always keeps her secrets; the million little things she won't +tell, the little secrets that mean so much to her—and a man +wastes his life in loving such a woman, and is bitter when he finds +he's given all for nothing!"</p> +<p>His heavy tramping went on.</p> +<p>"Is that the way you feel about it?" she asked.</p> +<p>"Yes!" he cried. "I'm infinitely more lonely than when I married +you! Look here; I came to you, and in six months' time you knew a +thousand things you had no right to know, unless you, too, were +willing to come as close! But I'm <i>damned</i> if I know the first +thing about you—sometimes you are one thing, sometimes +another. I never know where to find you!"</p> +<p>"And I am to blame that we are unhappy? Of course you live in a +way to make any woman perfectly happy—you are never at fault +there!"</p> +<p>"You never really loved me!"</p> +<p>"Didn't I?" she sighed with vague emotion.</p> +<p>"No."</p> +<p>"Then why did I marry you, Marsh?"</p> +<p>"Heaven knows—I don't!"</p> +<p>"Then why did you marry <i>me</i>?" She gave him a fleeting +smile.</p> +<p>"Because I loved you—because you had crept into my heart +with your pretty ways, your charm, and the fascination of you. I +hadn't any thought but you; you seemed all of my life, and I was +going to do such great things for you. By God, I was going to +amount to something for your sake! I was going to make you a proud +and happy woman, but you wouldn't have it! You never got past the +trivial things; the annoyances, the need of money, the little +self-denials, the little inconveniences; you stopped there and +dragged me back when I wanted to go on; you wouldn't have it, you +couldn't or wouldn't understand my hopes—my ambitions!"</p> +<p>"Marsh, I was only a girl!" she said.</p> +<p>He put out his hand toward the bottle.</p> +<p>"Don't, Marsh!" she entreated.</p> +<p>He turned away and fell to pacing the floor again.</p> +<p>"What happiness do we get out of life, what good? We go on from +day to day living a life that is perfectly intolerable to us both; +what's the use of it—I wonder we stand it!"</p> +<p>"I have sometimes wondered that, too," Evelyn half +whispered.</p> +<p>"You had it in your power to make our life different, but you +wouldn't take the trouble; and see where we have drifted; you don't +trust me and I don't trust you—" She started. "What sort of a +basis is that for a man and wife, for our life together?"</p> +<p>"It's what we—what you have made it!" she answered.</p> +<p>"No, it isn't; it's what <i>you</i> have made it! I tell you, +you were bored to death; you wanted noise and world! Remember how I +used to come home from the office every night, and begrudged the +moments when any one called? I wanted only you; I talked over my +cases with you, my hopes and my ambitions; but you mighty soon got +sick of that—you yawned, you were sleepy, and you wanted to +go about; you thought it was silly staying cooped up like that, and +seeing no one, going nowhere! It was stupid for you, you were bored +to death, you wanted noise and excitement, to spend money, to see +and be seen,—as if that game was worth the candle in a +God-forsaken hole of a place like Mount Hope! You killed my +ambition then and there; I saw it was no use. You wanted the +results, but you wouldn't pay the price in self-denial and +patience, and so we rushed into debt and it's been a scramble ever +since! I've begged and borrowed and cheated to keep afloat!"</p> +<p>"And I was the cause of it all?" she demanded with lazy scorn of +him.</p> +<p>"There was a time when I stood a chance of doing something, but +I've fooled my opportunities away!"</p> +<p>"What of the promises you made me when we were +married—what about them?" she asked.</p> +<p>"You created conditions in which I could not keep them!" he +said.</p> +<p>"I seem to have been wholly, at fault; at least from your point +of view; but don't you suppose there is something <i>I</i> could +say? Do you suppose <i>I</i> sit here silent because I am convinced +that it is all my fault?"</p> +<p>He did not answer her at once but continued to pace the floor; +at length he jerked out:</p> +<p>"No, I was at fault too. I've a nasty temper. I should have had +more patience with you, Evelyn—but it was so hard to deny you +anything you wanted that I could possibly give you—I'd have +laid the whole world at your feet if I could!"</p> +<p>"I believe you would, Marsh—then!" she said.</p> +<p>"It's a pity you didn't understand me," he answered +indifferently.</p> +<p>Nothing he could say led in the direction he would have had it +lead, for he wanted her to realize her part in what had happened, +to know that the burden beneath which he had gone down was in a +measure the work of her hands. His instinct was as primitive as a +child's fear of the dark; he must escape from the horror of his +isolation; his secret was made doubly terrifying because he knew he +dared not share it with any living creature. Yet his mind played +strange tricks with him; he was ready to risk much that he might +learn what part of the truth he could tell her; he was even ready +to risk all in a dumb brute impulse to gather up the remnants of +his strength of heart and brain, and be the center of some +widespread catastrophe; to put his fear in her soul just as it was +in his own. How was she ever to comprehend the horror that held him +in its cruel grasp, the thousand subtle shades of thought and +feeling that had led up to this thing, from the memory of which he +revolted! He turned his bloodshot eyes upon her, something of the +old light was there along with the new; he had indeed loved her, +but the fruit of this love had been rotten. He was silent, and +again his heavy tread resounded in the room as he dragged himself +back and forth.</p> +<p>The force in him was stirring her. Sensation of any sort had +always made its strong appeal to her. Without knowing what was +passing in his mind she yet understood that it was some powerful +emotion, and her pliant nerves responded. For the moment she forgot +that she no longer loved him. She rose and went to his side.</p> +<p>"Is it all my fault, Marsh?" she said.</p> +<p>"What is your fault?" he asked, pausing.</p> +<p>"That we are so unhappy; am I the only one at fault there?"</p> +<p>He looked down into her face relentingly.</p> +<p>"I don't know—I swear I don't know!" he said hoarsely.</p> +<p>"What is it, Marsh—why are you so unhappy? Just because +you love me? What an unkind thing to say!"</p> +<p>He turned to the table to pour himself a drink, but she caught +his hand.</p> +<p>"For my sake, Marsh!" she entreated.</p> +<p>Again he looked down into her eyes.</p> +<p>"For my sake," she repeated softly.</p> +<p>"By God, I'll never touch another drop!" he said.</p> +<p>"Oh, you make me so happy!" she exclaimed.</p> +<p>He crushed her in his arms until his muscles were tense. She did +not struggle for release, but abandoned herself without a word to +the emotion of the moment. Her head thrown back, her cheeks pale, +her full lips smiling, she gazed up into his face with eyes burning +with sudden fire.</p> +<p>"How I love you!" he whispered.</p> +<p>She slipped her arms about his neck with a little cry of +ecstasy.</p> +<p>"Oh, Marsh, I have been foolish, too, but this is the place for +me—my place—against your very heart!" she said +softly.</p> +<p>For a long minute Langham held her so, and then tortured by +sudden memory he came back sharply to the actualities. His arms +dropped from about her.</p> +<p>"What is it, dear?" she asked.</p> +<p>She was not yet ready to pass from the passion of that +moment.</p> +<p>"It's too late—" he muttered brokenly.</p> +<p>"No, dear, it's not too late, we have only been a little +foolish. Of course we can go back; of course we can begin all over, +and we know now what to avoid; that was it, we didn't know before, +we were ignorant of ourselves—of each other. Why, don't you +see, we are only just beginning to live, dear—you must have +faith!" and again her arms encircled him.</p> +<p>"But you don't know—" he stammered.</p> +<p>"Don't know what, dear?"</p> +<p>He dropped into his chair, and she sank on her knees at his +side. A horrible black abyss into which he was falling, seemed to +open at his feet. Her hands were the only ones that could draw him +back and save him.</p> +<p>"Don't know what?" she repeated.</p> +<p>The mystery of his man's nature, with its mingled strength and +weakness, was something she could not resist.</p> +<p>"Does it ever do any good to pray, I wonder?" he gasped.</p> +<p>"I wonder, too!" she echoed breathlessly.</p> +<p>He laughed.</p> +<p>"What rot I'm talking!" he said.</p> +<p>"What is it that is wrong, Marsh?"</p> +<p>"Nothing—nothing—I can't tell you—"</p> +<p>"You can tell me anything, I would always +understand—always, dear. Prove to me that our love is +everything; take me back into your confidence!"</p> +<p>"No," he gasped hoarsely. "I can't tell you—you'd hate me +if I did; you'd never forget—you couldn't!"</p> +<p>She turned her eyes on him in breathless inquiry.</p> +<p>"I would—I promise you now! Marsh, I promise you, can't +you believe—?"</p> +<p>He shook his head and gazed somberly into her eyes. She rested +her cheek against the back of his hand where it lay on the arm of +his chair. There was a long silence.</p> +<p>"But what is it, Marsh? What has happened?"</p> +<p>"Nothing's happened," he said at last. "I'm a bit worried, +that's all, about myself—my debts—my extravagance; +isn't that enough to upset me? Every one's crowding me!"</p> +<p>There was another long pause. Evelyn sighed softly; she felt +that they were coming back too swiftly to the every-day concerns of +life.</p> +<p>"I'm worried, too, about North!" Langham said presently.</p> +<p>"About North—what about North?"</p> +<p>"They are going to bring him back; didn't you know he had gone +West? He went last night."</p> +<p>"But <i>who</i> is going to bring him back?"</p> +<p>"They want him as a witness in the McBride case. +They—Moxlow, that is—seems to think he knows something +that may be of importance. He's a crazy fool, with his +notions!"</p> +<p>"But North—" Evelyn began.</p> +<p>"It may make a lot of trouble for him. They are going to bring +him back as a witness, and unless he gives a pretty good account of +himself, Moxlow's scheme is to try and hold him—"</p> +<p>"What do you mean by a good account of himself?"</p> +<p>"He'll, have to be able to tell just where he was between half +past five and six o'clock last night; that's when the murder was +committed, according to Taylor."</p> +<p>"Do you mean he's suspected, Marsh? But he couldn't have done +it!" she cried.</p> +<p>"How do you know?" he asked quickly.</p> +<p>"Why, I was there—"</p> +<p>"Where?"</p> +<p>"With him—"</p> +<p>"Here—was he here?" A great load seemed lifted from +him.</p> +<p>She was silent.</p> +<p>"He was here between five and six?" he repeated. He glanced at +her sharply. "Why don't you answer me?"</p> +<p>"No, he was not here," she said slowly.</p> +<p>"Where was he, then?" he demanded. "What's the secret, +anyhow?"</p> +<p>"Marsh, I'm going to tell you something," she said slowly. +"Nothing shall stand between our perfect understanding, our perfect +trust for the future. You know I have been none too happy for the +last year—I don't reproach you—but we had gotten very +far apart somehow. I've never been really bad—I've been your +true and faithful wife, dear, always—always, but—you +had made me very unhappy—" She felt him shiver. "And I am not +a very wise or settled person—and we haven't any children to +keep me steady—"</p> +<p>"Thank God!" the man muttered hoarsely under his breath.</p> +<p>"What do you say?" she asked.</p> +<p>"Nothing—go on; what is it you want to tell me?"</p> +<p>"Something—and then perhaps you will trust me more fully +with the things that are oppressing you. I believe you love me, I +believe it absolutely—" she paused.</p> +<p>The light died out of his eyes.</p> +<p>"Marsh," she began again. "Could you forgive me if you knew that +I'd thought I cared for some one else? Could you, if I told you +that for a moment I had the thought—the silly thought, that I +cared for another man?" She was conscious that his hand had grown +cold beneath her cheek. "It was just a foolish fancy, quite as +innocent as it was foolish, dear; you left me so much alone, and I +thought you really didn't care for me any more, and so—and +so—"</p> +<p>"Go on!"</p> +<p>"Well, that is all, Marsh."</p> +<p>"All?"</p> +<p>"Yes, it went no further than that, just a silly fancy, and I'd +known him all my life—"</p> +<p>"Of whom are you speaking?"</p> +<p>"Of John North—"</p> +<p>"Damn him!" he cried. "And so that's what brought him +here—and you were with him last night!" He sprang to his +feet, his face livid. "What do you take me for? Do you expect me to +forgive you for that—"</p> +<p>"But Marsh, it was just a silly sentimental fancy! Oh, why did I +tell you!"</p> +<p>"Yes, why <i>did</i> you tell me!" he stormed.</p> +<p>"Because I thought it would make it easier for you to confess to +<i>me</i>—"</p> +<p>"Confess to you? I've nothing to confess—I've loved you +honestly! Did you think I'd been carrying on some nasty sneaking +intrigue with a friend's wife—did you think I was that sort +of a fellow—the sort of a fellow North is? Do you take me for +a common blackguard?"</p> +<p>"Marsh, don't! Marshall, please—for my sake—" and +she clung to him, but he cast her off roughly.</p> +<p>"Keep away from me!" he said with sullen repression, but there +was a murderous light in his eyes. "Don't touch me!" he warned.</p> +<p>"But say you forgive me!"</p> +<p>"Forgive you—" He laughed.</p> +<p>"Yes, forgive me—Marsh!"</p> +<p>"Forgive you—no, by God!"</p> +<p>He reached for the bottle.</p> +<p>"Not that—not that, Marsh; your promise only a moment +ago—your promise, Marsh!"</p> +<p>But he poured himself half a tumbler of whisky and emptied it at +a swallow.</p> +<p>"To hell with my promise!" he said, and strode from the +room.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_ELEVEN" id="CHAPTER_ELEVEN"></a>CHAPTER +ELEVEN</h2> +<h3>THE FINGER OF SUSPICION</h3> +<p>In Chicago Conklin found an angry young man at police +headquarters, and the name of this young man was John North.</p> +<p>"This is a most damnable outrage!" he cried hotly the moment he +espied Mount Hope's burly sheriff.</p> +<p>"I am mighty sorry to have interfered with your plans, +John—just mighty sorry." The sheriff's tone was meant to +soothe and conciliate. "But you see we are counting on you to throw +some light on the McBride murder."</p> +<p>"So that's it! I tell you, Conklin, I consider that I have been +treated with utter discourtesy; I've been a virtual prisoner here +over night!"</p> +<p>"That's too bad, John," said the sheriff sympathetically, "but +we didn't know where a wire would reach you, so there didn't seem +any other way than this—"</p> +<p>"Well, what do you want with me?" demanded North, with rather +less heat than had marked his previous speech.</p> +<p>"They got the idea back home that you can help in the McBride +matter," explained the sheriff again. "I see that you know he's +been murdered."</p> +<p>"Yes, I knew that before I left Mount Hope," rejoined North.</p> +<p>"Did you, though?" said the sheriff briefly, and this admission +of North's appeared to furnish him with food for reflection.</p> +<p>"Well, what do I know that will be of use to you?" asked North +impatiently.</p> +<p>"You ain't to make any statement to me, John," returned the +sheriff hastily.</p> +<p>"Do you mean you expect me to go back to Mount Hope?" inquired +North in a tone of mingled wonder and exasperation.</p> +<p>The sheriff nodded.</p> +<p>"That's the idea, John," he said placidly.</p> +<p>"What if I refuse to go back?"</p> +<p>The sheriff looked pained.</p> +<p>"Oh, you won't do that—what's the use?"</p> +<p>"Do you mean—" began North savagely, but Conklin +interposed.</p> +<p>"Never mind what I mean, that's a good fellow; say you'll take +the next train back with me; it will save a lot of, bother!"</p> +<p>"But I strongly object to return to Mount Hope!" said North.</p> +<p>"Be reasonable—" urged the sheriff.</p> +<p>"This is an infernal outrage!" cried North.</p> +<p>"I'm sorry, John, but make it easy for me, make it easy for +yourself; we'll have a nice friendly trip and you will be back here +by the first of the week."</p> +<p>For a moment North hesitated. He had so many excellent reasons +why he did not wish to return to Mount Hope, but he knew that there +was something back of Mr. Conklin's mild eye and yet milder +speech.</p> +<p>"Well, John?" prompted the sheriff encouragingly.</p> +<p>"I suppose I'll go with you," said North grudgingly.</p> +<p>"Of course you will," agreed the sheriff.</p> +<p>He had never entertained any doubts on this point.</p> +<p>It was ten o'clock Saturday morning when North and the sheriff +left the east-bound express at Mount Hope and climbed into the bus +that was waiting for them.</p> +<p>North's annoyance had given place to a certain humorous +appreciation of the situation. His plans had gone far astray in the +past forty-eight hours, and here he was back in Mount Hope. +Decidedly his return, in the light of his parting with Elizabeth, +was somewhat in the nature of an anticlimax.</p> +<p>They were driven at once to the court-house. There in his office +they found Moxlow with the coroner and North was instantly aware of +restraint in the manner of each as they greeted him, for which he +could not account.</p> +<p>"Sit down, North," said Moxlow, indicating a chair.</p> +<p>"Now what is it?" North spoke pleasantly as he took his seat. +"I've been cursing you two all the way home from Chicago."</p> +<p>"I am sorry you were subjected to any annoyance in the matter, +but it couldn't be helped," said Moxlow.</p> +<p>"I'm getting over my temper," replied North. "Fire away with +your questions!"</p> +<p>The prosecuting attorney glanced at his fellow official.</p> +<p>"You are already acquainted with the particulars of the shocking +tragedy that has occurred here?" said Taylor with ponderous +dignity.</p> +<p>"Yes," said North soberly. "And when I think of it, I am more +than willing to help you in your search for the guilty man."</p> +<p>"You knew of the murder before you left town?" remarked Moxlow +casually.</p> +<p>"Yes."</p> +<p>"But you weren't on the Square or in the store Thanksgiving +night?" said Moxlow.</p> +<p>"No, I dined with General Herbert." The prosecuting attorney +elevated his eyebrows. "I must have been on my way there when the +crime was discovered; I was returning home perhaps a little after +eleven when I met a man who stopped me to tell me of the +murder—"</p> +<p>"You were with Mr. McBride Thanksgiving afternoon, were you +not?" Moxlow now asked.</p> +<p>"Yes."</p> +<p>"What was the hour, can you state?"</p> +<p>"About half past four, I should say; certainly no later than +that. I went there on a matter of business, to dispose of some +bonds Mr. McBride had agreed to take off my hands; I was with him, +maybe twenty minutes."</p> +<p>"What were those bonds?"</p> +<p>"Local gas bonds."</p> +<p>"How many were there in the lot you sold?"</p> +<p>"Five."</p> +<p>"He paid you the money for them?"</p> +<p>"Yes, a thousand dollars."</p> +<p>"Do you know, we haven't unearthed those bonds yet?" said the +doctor.</p> +<p>Moxlow frowned slightly.</p> +<p>"I suppose they were taken," said North.</p> +<p>"But it will be a dangerous thing, to attempt to realize on +them," snapped Moxlow.</p> +<p>"Decidedly," agreed North.</p> +<p>"You left McBride's store at, say, five o'clock?" said +Moxlow.</p> +<p>"Not later than that—see here, Moxlow, what are you +driving at?" demanded North, with some show of temper.</p> +<p>For an instant Moxlow hesitated, then he said:</p> +<p>"The truth is, North, there is not a clue to go on, and we are +thrashing this thing over in the hope that we may sooner or later +hit on something that will be of service to us."</p> +<p>"Oh, all right," said North, with a return of good nature.</p> +<p>"During your interview with McBride you were not interrupted, no +one came into the store?"</p> +<p>"No one; we were alone the entire time."</p> +<p>"And you saw no one hanging about the place as you left it?"</p> +<p>"Not that I can remember; if I did it made no impression on +me."</p> +<p>"But didn't you see Shrimplin?" asked Moxlow quickly.</p> +<p>"Oh, come, Moxlow, you can't play the sleuth,—that was +afterward, you know it was!"</p> +<p>"Afterward—"</p> +<p>"Yes, just as I was starting for the general's place, fully an +hour later."</p> +<p>"In the meantime you had been where—"</p> +<p>"From McBride's store I went to my rooms. I remained there until +it was time to start for the Herberts', and as I intended to walk +out I started earlier than I otherwise should have done."</p> +<p>"Then you were coming from your rooms when you met +Shrimplin?"</p> +<p>"Yes, it was just six o'clock when I stopped to speak to +him."</p> +<p>"Shrimplin was the only person you met as you crossed the +Square?"</p> +<p>"As far as I can remember now, I saw no one but Shrimp."</p> +<p>"And just where did you meet him, North?" asked Moxlow.</p> +<p>"On the corner, near McBride's store."</p> +<p>"Do you know whether he had just driven into the Square or +not?"</p> +<p>"No, I, don't know that; it was snowing hard and I came upon him +suddenly."</p> +<p>"You continued on your way out of town after speaking with him, +North?"</p> +<p>"Yes."</p> +<p>"And later, at eleven o'clock, as you were returning to town you +met a stranger, probably a countryman, you say, who told you that +McBride had been murdered?"</p> +<p>"Yes, you have that all straight."</p> +<p>"On your return to town you went where?"</p> +<p>"To my rooms again and finished packing."</p> +<p>"Did that take you two hours?"</p> +<p>"No, but I had a lot of things to see to there."</p> +<p>"What?" asked Moxlow.</p> +<p>"Oh, papers to destroy, and things of that sort that kept me +pretty busy until train-time."</p> +<p>"You walked to the depot?"</p> +<p>"Yes, I was too late for the hotel bus; in fact, I barely caught +the train. I just had time to jump aboard as it pulled out."</p> +<p>"Excuse me a moment, North!" said Moxlow as he rose from his +chair.</p> +<p>He quitted the room and North heard him pass down the hall.</p> +<p>"It's a bad business," said Taylor.</p> +<p>"And you haven't a suspicion as to the guilty man?"</p> +<p>"No, as Moxlow says, we haven't a clue to go on. It's incredible +though, isn't it, that a crime like that could have been committed +here almost in broad daylight, and its perpetrator get away without +leaving a trace behind?"</p> +<p>"It <i>is</i> incredible," agreed North, and they lapsed into +silence.</p> +<p>North thought of Elizabeth. He would slip out to Idle Hour that +afternoon or evening; he couldn't leave Mount Hope without seeing +her. The coroner drummed on his desk; he wondered what had taken +Moxlow from the room in such haste. The prosecuting attorney's +brisk step sounded in the hall again, and he reëntered the +room and resumed his chair.</p> +<p>"Just one or two more questions, North, and then I guess we'll +have to let you go," he said. "You have been on very friendly terms +with the murdered man for some time, have you not?"</p> +<p>"He was very kind to me on numerous occasions."</p> +<p>"In a business way, perhaps?"</p> +<p>"Largely in a business way, yes."</p> +<p>"It—pardon me—usually had to do with raising money, +had it not?"</p> +<p>North laughed.</p> +<p>"It had."</p> +<p>"You were familiar with certain little peculiarities of his, +were you not, his mistrust of banks for instance?"</p> +<p>"Yes, he had very little confidence in banks, judging from what +he said of them."</p> +<p>"Did he ever tell you that he had large sums of money hidden +away about the store?"</p> +<p>"Never."</p> +<p>"But always when you had business dealings with him he gave you +the ready money, very rarely a check?"</p> +<p>"Never in all my experience a check, always the cash."</p> +<p>"Yet the sums involved were usually considerable?"</p> +<p>"In one or two instances they reached a thousand dollars, if you +call that considerable."</p> +<p>"And he always had the money on hand?"</p> +<p>"Well, I can't quite say that; it always involved a preliminary +discussion of the transaction; I had to see him and tell him what I +wanted and then go again after the money. It was as if he wished me +to think he did not keep any large sum about him at the store."</p> +<p>"Did he ever, in talking with you, express any apprehension of +robbery or violence?"</p> +<p>"No, never."</p> +<p>"You had spoken to him about those bonds before?"</p> +<p>"Yes, Monday I saw him and asked him if he would take them off +my hand."</p> +<p>"And he gave you to understand that if you would wait a day or +two he would buy the bonds."</p> +<p>North nodded.</p> +<p>"Hadn't you learned prior to going to the store that McBride had +just received three thousand dollars in cash from Atkinson?"</p> +<p>"Yes, I knew that,—Langham told me."</p> +<p>"So that it is reasonable to suppose that McBride had at least +four thousand dollars in his safe Thursday afternoon."</p> +<p>"I suppose it is, but I saw only the thousand he paid me for the +bonds."</p> +<p>"That came from the safe?"</p> +<p>"Yes."</p> +<p>"I guess that's all for the present, North."</p> +<p>"Do you mean you shall want to see me again?" asked North, +rising.</p> +<p>"Yes, you won't leave town to-day; the inquest is to be held +this afternoon, you will probably be wanted then, so hold yourself +in readiness."</p> +<p>"I hope you will arrange to get through with me as soon as +possible, Moxlow!"</p> +<p>"We won't put you to any unnecessary inconvenience if we can +help it," returned Moxlow, with a queer cold smile.</p> +<p>"Thank you," said North and quitted the room.</p> +<p>He sauntered out into the street; he was disposed to consider +Mr. Moxlow as something of a fool, as a rank amateur in the present +crisis. He turned into the Square and halted for an instant before +the dingy store that had been the scene of the recent tragedy. +People on the street paused when they had passed and turned to +stare after him, but North was unaware of this, as he was unaware +that his name had come to be the one most frequently mentioned in +connection with the McBride murder. Suddenly he quickened his step; +just ahead of him was Marshall Langham.</p> +<p>"Hello, Marsh!" he said, and stepped eagerly forward with +extended hand.</p> +<p>The lawyer paused irresolutely and turned on him a bloated face, +but there was no welcome in the sullen glance.</p> +<p>"Marsh—"</p> +<p>Langham's lips twitched and an angry murmur came from them, but +the words were indistinct.</p> +<p>"What's wrong?" asked North, falling back a step in +astonishment.</p> +<p>"Yes, what's wrong!" said Langham in a hoarse whisper. "Hell! +You have nerve to stick out your hand to me—you have bigger +nerve to ask me that,—get out of my way!" and he pushed past +North and strode down the street without a single backward +glance.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_TWELVE" id="CHAPTER_TWELVE"></a>CHAPTER +TWELVE</h2> +<h3>JOE TELLS HIS STORY</h3> +<p>The inquest was held late Saturday afternoon in the bleak +living-room of the McBride house. The coroner had explained the +manner in which the murdered man had come to his death, and as he +finished he turned to Moxlow. The prosecuting attorney shifted his +position slightly, thrust out his long legs toward the wood-stove, +and buried his hands deep in his trousers pockets, then he +addressed the jury.</p> +<p>They were there, he told them, to listen to certain facts that +bore on the death of Archibald McBride. If, after hearing these +facts, they could say they pointed to any person or persons as +being implicated in the murder, they were to name the person or +persons, and he would see that they were brought before the grand +jury for indictment. They were to bear in mind, however, that no +one was on trial, and that no one was accused of the crime about to +be investigated, yet they must not forget that a cold-blooded +murder had been committed; human hands had raised the weapon that +had crushed out the life of the old merchant, human intelligence +had made choice of the day and hour and moment for that brutal +deed; the possibility of escape had been nicely calculated, nothing +had been left to chance. He would venture the assertion that if the +murderer were ever found he would prove to be no ordinary +criminal.</p> +<p>All this Moxlow said with judicial deliberation and with the +lawyer's careful qualifying of word and phrase.</p> +<p>Shrimplin was the first witness. He described in his own fashion +the finding of Archibald McBride's body. Then a few skilful +questions by Moxlow brought out the fact of his having met John +North on the Square immediately before his own gruesome discovery. +The little lamplighter was excused, and Colonel Harbison took his: +place. He, in his turn, quickly made way for Andy Gilmore. Moxlow +next interrogated Atkinson, Langham's client, who explained the +nature of his business relations with McBride which had terminated +in the payment of three thousand dollars to him on Thanksgiving +afternoon, the twenty-seventh of November.</p> +<p>"You are excused, Mr. Atkinson," said Moxlow.</p> +<p>For an instant his eyes roved over the room; they settled on +Marshall Langham, who stood near the door leading into the hall. By +a gesture he motioned him to the chair Atkinson had vacated.</p> +<p>Langham's testimony was identical with that which he had already +given in the informal talk at Moxlow's office; he told of having +called on Archibald McBride with his client and, urged on by +Moxlow, described his subsequent conversation with North.</p> +<p>Up to this point John North had felt only an impersonal interest +in the proceedings, but now it flashed across him that Moxlow was +seeking to direct suspicion toward him. How well the prosecuting +attorney was succeeding was apparent. North realized that he had +suddenly become the most conspicuous person in the room; whichever +way he turned he met the curious gaze of his townsmen, and each +pair of eyes seemed to hold some portentous question. As if +oblivious of this he bent forward in his chair and followed +Moxlow's questions and Langham's replies with the closest +attention. And as he watched Langham, so Gilmore watched him.</p> +<p>"That will do, Mr. Langham. Thank you," said Moxlow at last.</p> +<p>North felt sure he would be the next witness, and he was not +mistaken. Moxlow's examination, however, was along lines quite +different from those he had anticipated. The prosecuting attorney's +questions wholly concerned themselves with the sale of the gas +bonds to McBride; each detail of that transaction was gone into, +but a very positive sense of relief had come to North. This was not +what he had expected and dreaded, and he answered Moxlow's queries +frankly, eagerly, for where his relations with the old merchant +were under discussion he had nothing to hide. Finally Moxlow turned +from him with a characteristic gesture.</p> +<p>"That's all," he said.</p> +<p>Again his glance wandered over the room. It became fixed on a +grayish middle-aged man seated at Gilmore's elbow.</p> +<p>"Thomas Nelson," he called.</p> +<p>This instantly revived North's apprehensions. Nelson was the +janitor of the building in which he had roomed. He asked himself +what could be Moxlow's purpose in examining him.</p> +<p>There was just one thing North feared, and that—the +bringing of Evelyn Langham's name into the case. How this could +happen he did not see, but the law dug its own channels and +sometimes they went far enough afield. While this was passing +through his mind, Nelson was sworn and Moxlow began his +examination.</p> +<p>Mr. Nelson was in charge of the building on the corner of Main +Street and the Square,—he referred to the brick building on +the southeast corner? The witness answered in the affirmative, and +Moxlow's next question brought out the fact that for some weeks the +building had had only two tenants; John North and Andrew +Gilmore.</p> +<p>What was the exact nature of his duties? The witness could +hardly say; he was something of a carpenter for one thing, and at +the present time was making certain repairs in the vacant +store-room on the ground floor. Did he take care of the entrance +and the two halls? Yes. Had he anything to do with the rooms of the +two tenants on the first floor? Yes. What?</p> +<p>Sometimes he swept and dusted them and he was supposed to look +after the fires. He carried up the coal, Moxlow suggested? Yes. He +carried out the ashes? Again yes. Moxlow paused for a moment. Was +he the only person who ever carried out the ashes? Yes. What did he +do with the ashes? He emptied them into a barrel that stood in the +yard back of the building. And what became of them then? Whenever +necessary, the barrel was carted away and emptied. How long did it +usually take to fill the barrel? At this season of the year one or +two weeks. When was it emptied last? A week ago, perhaps, the +witness was not quite sure about the day, but it was either Monday +or Tuesday of the preceding week. And how often did the ashes from +the fireplaces in Mr. North's and Mr. Gilmore's rooms find their +way into the barrel? Every morning he cleaned out the grates the +first thing, and usually before Mr. North or Mr. Gilmore were +up.</p> +<p>Again Moxlow paused and glanced over the room. He must have been +aware that to his eager audience the connection between Mr. North's +and Mr. Gilmore's fireplaces and the McBride murder, was anything +but clear.</p> +<p>"Did you empty the ashes from the fireplaces in the apartments +occupied by Mr. North and Mr. Gilmore on Friday morning?" he +asked.</p> +<p>"Yes; that is, I took up the ashes in Mr. North's rooms."</p> +<p>"But not in Mr. Gilmore's?"</p> +<p>"No, sir, I didn't go into his rooms Friday morning."</p> +<p>"Why was that,—was there any reason for it?"</p> +<p>"Yes, I knew that Mr. Gilmore's rooms had not been occupied +Thursday night; that was the night of the murder, and he was at +McBride's house," explained the witness.</p> +<p>"But you emptied the grate in Mr. North's rooms?"</p> +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> +<p>"And disposed of the ashes in the usual way?"</p> +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> +<p>"In the barrel in the yard back of the building?"</p> +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> +<p>"Did you notice anything peculiar about the ashes from Mr. +North's rooms on Friday morning?"</p> +<p>The witness looked puzzled.</p> +<p>"Hadn't Mr. North burnt a good many papers in his grate?"</p> +<p>"Oh, yes, but then he was going away."</p> +<p>"That will do,—you are excused," interposed Moxlow +quickly.</p> +<p>The sheriff was next sworn. Without interruption from Moxlow he +told his story. He had made a thorough search of the ash barrel +described by the witness Thomas Nelson, and had come upon a number +of charred fragments of paper.</p> +<p>"We think these may be of interest to the coroner's jury," said +Moxlow quietly.</p> +<p>He drew a small pasteboard box from an inner pocket of his coat +and carefully arranged its contents on the table before him. In all +there were half a dozen scraps of charred or torn paper displayed; +one or two of these fragments were bits of envelopes on which +either a part or all of the name was still decipherable. North, +from where he sat, was able to recognize a number of these as +letters which he had intended to destroy that last night in his +rooms; but the refuse from his grate and the McBride murder still +seemed poles apart; he could imagine no possible connection.</p> +<p>The president of Mount Hope's first national bank was the next +witness called. He was asked by Moxlow to examine a Mount Hope Gas +Company bond, and then the prosecuting attorney placed in his hands +a triangular piece of paper which he selected from among the other +fragments on the table.</p> +<p>"Mr. Harden, will you kindly tell the jury of what, in your +opinion, that bit of paper in your hand was once a part?" said +Moxlow.</p> +<p>Very deliberately the banker put on his glasses, and then with +equal deliberation began a careful examination of the scrap of +paper.</p> +<p>"Well?" said Moxlow.</p> +<p>"A second, please!" said the banker.</p> +<p>But the seconds grew into minutes before he was ready to risk an +opinion.</p> +<p>"We are waiting on you, Mr. Harden," said Moxlow at length.</p> +<p>"I should say that this is a marginal fragment of a Gas Company +bond," said the banker slowly. "Indeed there can be no doubt on the +point. The paper is the same, and these lines in red ink are a part +of the decoration that surrounds the printed matter. +No,—there is no doubt in my mind as to what this paper +is."</p> +<p>"What part of the bond is it?" asked Moxlow.</p> +<p>"The lower right-hand corner," replied the banker promptly. +"That is why I hesitated to identify it; with this much of the +upper left-hand corner for instance, I should not have been in +doubt."</p> +<p>"Excused," said Moxlow briefly.</p> +<p>The room became blank before John North's eyes as he realized +that a chain of circumstantial evidence was connecting him with the +McBride murder. He glanced about at a score of men—witnesses, +officials, and jury, and felt their sudden doubt of him, as +intangibly but as certainly as he felt the dead presence just +beyond the closed door.</p> +<p>"We have one other witness," said Moxlow.</p> +<p>And Joe Montgomery, seeming to understand that he was this +witness, promptly quitted his chair at the back of the room and, +cap in hand, slouched forward and was duly sworn by the +coroner.</p> +<p>If Mr. Montgomery had shown promptness he had also evinced +uneasiness, since his fear of the law was as rock-ribbed as his +respect for it. He was not unfamiliar with courts, though never +before had he appeared in the character of a witness; and he had +told himself many times that day that the business in which he had +allowed Mr. Gilmore to involve him carried him far behind his +depths. Now his small blue eyes slid round in their sockets +somewhat fearfully until they rested on Mr. Gilmore, who had just +taken up his position at Marshall Langham's elbow. The gambler +frowned and the handy-man instantly shifted his gaze. But the +prosecuting attorney's first questions served to give Joe a measure +of ease; this was transitory, however, as he seemed to stand alone +in the presence of some imminent personal danger when Moxlow +asked:</p> +<p>"Where were you on the night of the twenty-seventh of November +at six o'clock?"</p> +<p>Joe stole a haunted glance in the direction of Gilmore. Moxlow +repeated his question.</p> +<p>"Boss, I was in White's woodshed," answered Montgomery.</p> +<p>"Tell the jury what you saw," said Moxlow.</p> +<p>"Well, I seen a good deal," evaded the handy-man, shaking his +great head.</p> +<p>"Go on!" urged Moxlow impatiently.</p> +<p>"It was this way," said Joe. "I was lookin' out into the alley +through a crack in the small door where they put in the coal; right +across the alley is the back of McBride's store and the sheds about +his yard—" the handy-man paused and mopped his face with his +ragged cap.</p> +<p>At the opposite end of the room Gilmore placed a hand on +Langham's arm. The lawyer had uttered a smothered exclamation and +had made a movement as if about to quit his seat. The gambler +pushed him back.</p> +<p>"Sit tight, Marsh!" he muttered between his teeth.</p> +<p>Mr. Montgomery, taking stock of his courage, prepared to +adventure further with his testimony.</p> +<p>"All at once as I stood by that door lookin' out into the alley, +I heard a kind of noise in old man McBride's yard. It sounded like +something heavy was bein' scraped across the frozen ground, say a +box or barrel. Then I seen a man's derby hat come over the edge of +the shed, and next the man who was under that hat drawed himself +up; he come up slow and cautious until he was where he could throw +himself over on to the roof. He done that, squatted low, and slid +down the roof toward the alley. There was some snow and he slid +easy. He was lookin' about all the time like he wasn't anxious to +be seen. Well, boss, he never seen me, and he never seen no one +else, so he dropped off, kind of givin' himself a shove out from +the eaves, and fetched up against White's woodshed. He was pantin' +like he'd run a mile, and I heard him say in a whisper, 'Oh, my +God!'—just like that,—'Oh, my God!'" The handy-man +paused with this grotesque mimicry of terror.</p> +<p>"And then?" prompted Moxlow, in the breathless silence.</p> +<p>"And then he took off up the alley as if all hell was whoopin' +after him!"</p> +<p>Again Montgomery's ragged cap served him in lieu of a +handkerchief, and as he swabbed his blotched and purple face he +shot a swift furtive glance in Gilmore's direction. So far he had +told only the truth, but he was living in terror of Moxlow's next +question.</p> +<p>"Can you describe the man who crossed the roof,—for +instance, how was he dressed?" said Moxlow, with slow +deliberation.</p> +<p>"He had on a derby hat and a dark overcoat," answered Montgomery +after a moment's pause.</p> +<p>He was speaking for Gilmore now, and his grimy lists closed +convulsively about the arms of his chair.</p> +<p>"Did you see his face?" asked Moxlow.</p> +<p>"Yes—" the monosyllable was spoken unwillingly, but with a +kind of dogged resolution.</p> +<p>"Was it a face you knew?"</p> +<p>Montgomery looked at Gilmore, whose fierce insistent glance was +bent compellingly on him. The recollection of the gambler's threats +and promises flashed through his mind.</p> +<p>"Was it a face you knew?" repeated Moxlow.</p> +<p>The handy-man gave him a sudden glare.</p> +<p>"Yes," he said in a throaty whisper.</p> +<p>"How could you tell in the dark?"</p> +<div class="figcenter"><br /> +<a href="images/174.jpg"><img src="images/174.jpg" width="45%" alt= +"" title="" /></a><br /> +<b>"Then I seen a man's derby hat come over the edge of the +shed."</b> +<br /></div> +<p>"It wasn't so terrible dark, with the snow on the ground. And I +was so close to him I could have put an apple in his pocket," Joe +explained.</p> +<p>"Who was the man?" asked Moxlow.</p> +<p>"I thought he looked like John North," said Montgomery.</p> +<p>There was the silence of death in the room.</p> +<p>"You thought it was John North?" began Moxlow.</p> +<p>"Yes."</p> +<p>"When he spoke, you thought you recognized North's voice?"</p> +<p>"Yes."</p> +<p>"Were you sure?"</p> +<p>"I was pretty sure, boss—"</p> +<p>"Only pretty sure?"</p> +<p>"I thought it was Mr. North,—it looked like Mr. North, and +I thought it was him,—I thought so then and I think so now," +said Montgomery desperately.</p> +<p>"Are you willing to swear positively that it was John North?" +demanded Moxlow.</p> +<p>"No—" said the handy-man, "No,—I only say I thought +it was John North. He looked like John North, and I thought it was +John North,—I'd have said it was John North, but it all +happened in a minute. I wasn't thinkin' I'd ever have to say who it +was I seen on the shed!"</p> +<p>"But your first distinct impression was that it was John +North?"</p> +<p>"Yes."</p> +<p>"You have known John North for years?"</p> +<p>"All his life."</p> +<p>"Had you seen him recently?"</p> +<p>"I seen him Thanksgiving day along about four o'clock crossing +the Square."</p> +<p>"How was he dressed, did you notice?"</p> +<p>"He was dressed like the man in the alley,—he had on a +black derby hat and a dark brown overcoat."</p> +<p>"That's all," said Moxlow quietly.</p> +<p>The coroner and the jury drew aside and began a whispered +consultation. In the vitiated atmosphere of that overcrowded room, +heavy as it was with the stifling heat and palpably dense with the +escaping smoke from the cracked wood-stove, men coughed nervously +with every breath they drew, but their sense of physical discomfort +was unheeded in their tense interest in the developments of the +last few moments. The jury's deliberation was brief and then the +coroner announced its verdict.</p> +<p>North heard the doctor's halting words without at once grasping +their meaning. A long moment of silence followed, and then a man +coughed, and then another, and another; this seemed to break the +spell, for suddenly the room buzzed with eager whisperings.</p> +<p>North's first definite emotion was one of intense astonishment. +Were they mad? But the faces turned toward him expressed nothing +beyond curiosity. His glance shifted to the official group by the +table. These good-natured commonplace men who, whether they liked +him or not, had invariably had a pleasant word for him, instantly +took on an air of grim aloofness. Conklin, the fat jolly sheriff; +the coroner; Moxlow, the prosecuting attorney in his baggy trousers +and seam-shining coat,—why, he had known these men all his +life, he had met them daily,—what did they mean by suspecting +him! The mere suspicion was a monstrous wrong! His face reddened; +he glanced about him haughtily.</p> +<p>Now at a sign from the coroner, Conklin placed his fat hands on +the arms of his chair and slowly drew himself out of its depths, +then he crossed to North. The young fellow rose, and turned a pale +face toward him.</p> +<p>"John," said the sheriff gently, "I have an unpleasant duty to +perform."</p> +<p>In spite of himself the pallor deepened on North's face.</p> +<p>"I understand," he said in a voice that was low and none too +steady.</p> +<p>During this scene Moxlow's glance had been centered on North in +a fixed stare of impersonal curiosity, now he turned with quick +nervous decision and snatching up his shabby hat from the table, +left the room.</p> +<p>Langham had preceded him by a few moments, escaping unobserved +when there were eyes only for North.</p> +<p>"I am ready, Conklin."</p> +<p>And a moment later North and the sheriff passed out into the +twilight. Neither spoke until they came to the court-house +Square.</p> +<p>"We'll go in this way, John!" said the sheriff in a tone that +was meant to be encouraging, but failed.</p> +<p>They ascended the court-house steps, and went down the long +corridor to the rear of the building. Here they passed out through +wide doors and into a narrow yard that separated the court-house +from the jail. Crossing this sandy strip they entered the sheriff's +office. Conklin paused; North gazed at him inquiringly.</p> +<p>"It's too bad, John," said the sheriff.</p> +<p>Then without further words he led North to a door opposite that +by which they had entered. It opened on a long brick-paved +passageway, at the end of which was a flight of narrow stairs. +Ascending these North found himself in another long hall. Conklin +paused before the first of three doors on the right and pushed it +open.</p> +<p>"I guess this will do, John!" he said.</p> +<p>North stepped quickly in and glanced about him. The room held an +iron bedstead, a wooden chair and, by the window which overlooked +the jail yard and an alley beyond, a wash-stand with a tin basin +and pitcher.</p> +<p>"Say, ain't you going to see a lawyer?" asked the sheriff. "He +may be able to get you out of this, you can't tell—"</p> +<p>"Can you send a message to young Watt Harbison for me?" +interrupted North.</p> +<p>"Certainly, but you don't call him much of a lawyer, do you? I +tell you, John, you want a <i>good</i> lawyer; what's the matter +with Marsh Langham?"</p> +<p>"Watt will do for the present. He can tell me the one or two +things I need to know now," rejoined North indifferently.</p> +<p>"All right, I'll send for him then."</p> +<p>The sheriff quitted the room, closing and locking the door after +him. North heard his footsteps die out in the long passage. At last +he was alone! He threw himself down on the cot for manhood seemed +to forsake him.</p> +<p>"My God,—Elizabeth—" he groaned and buried his face +in his hands.</p> +<p>The law had lifted a sinister finger and leveled it at him.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_THIRTEEN" id="CHAPTER_THIRTEEN"></a>CHAPTER +THIRTEEN</h2> +<h3>LIGHT IN DARKNESS</h3> +<p>The expression on General Herbert's face was one of mingled +doubt and impatience.</p> +<p>"You must be mistaken, Thompson!" he was saying to his foreman, +who had, with the coming of night, returned from an errand in +town.</p> +<p>"General, there's no mistake; every one was talking about it! +Looks like the police had something to go on, too—"</p> +<p>He hesitated, suddenly remembering that John North had been a +frequent guest at Idle Hour.</p> +<p>"I had heard that Mr. North was wanted as a witness," observed +the general.</p> +<p>"No, they say Moxlow had his eye on him from the start!" +rejoined the foreman with repressed enthusiasm for Moxlow.</p> +<p>The general sensed the enthusiasm and was affected unpleasantly +by it.</p> +<p>"It would be a great pity if Mr. Moxlow should be so unfortunate +as to make a fool of himself!" he commented with unusual acidity. +"What else did you hear?"</p> +<p>"Not much, General, only just what I've told you—that +they've arrested North, and that young Watt Harbison's been trying +to get him out on bail, but they've refused to accept bond in his +case. Don't that look like they thought the evidence was pretty +strong against him—"</p> +<p>"Well, they, might have arrested you or me," said the general. +"That signifies nothing."</p> +<p>He moved off in the direction of the house, and Thompson, after +a backward glance at his retreating figure, entered the barn. Out +of sight of his foreman, the general's sturdy pace lagged. That +young man had been at Idle Hour entirely too often; he had thought +so all along, and now he was very sure of it!</p> +<p>"This comes of being too kind," he muttered.</p> +<p>Then he paused suddenly—but no, that was +absurd—utterly absurd; Elizabeth would have told him! He was +certain of this, for had she not told him all her secrets? But +suppose—suppose—and again he put the idea from him.</p> +<p>He found Elizabeth in the small, daintily furnished sitting-room +which Mrs. Herbert had called her "boudoir", and seated himself, +none too gently, in a fragile gilt chair which his bulk of bone and +muscle threatened to wreck. Elizabeth glanced up from <i>Their +Wedding Journey</i>, which she was reading for the second time.</p> +<p>"What is it, father?" she asked, for his feeling of doubt and +annoyance was plainly shown in his expressive face.</p> +<p>"Thompson has just come out from town—he says that John +North has been arrested for the McBride murder—"</p> +<p>The book slipped from Elizabeth's hand and fell to the floor; +the smile with which she had welcomed her father faded from her +lips; she gazed at him with pale face and wide eyes. The general +instantly regretted that he had spoken with such cruel +abruptness.</p> +<p>"You don't think it is true?" she asked in a whisper.</p> +<p>"Thompson seemed to know what he was talking about."</p> +<p>"It's monstrous!" she cried.</p> +<p>"If North is innocent—" began the general.</p> +<p>"Father!" She regarded him with a look of horror and +astonishment. "You don't like him! It's that, isn't it?" she added +after a moment's silence.</p> +<p>"I don't like any one who gets into a scrape such as this!" +replied the general with miserable and unnecessary heat.</p> +<p>"But it wasn't <i>his</i> fault—he couldn't help it!"</p> +<p>"I don't suppose he could," replied her father grimly.</p> +<p>She rose and came close to his side.</p> +<p>"Father!" she said in a tone of entreaty, placing a hand on his +arm.</p> +<p>"What is it, dear?"</p> +<p>There was both tenderness and concern in his keen gray eyes as +he glanced up into her troubled face.</p> +<p>"I want you to go to him—to Mr. North, I mean. I want you +to tell him how sorry you are; I want him to know—I—" +she paused uncertainly.</p> +<p>Perhaps for the first time in her life she was not quite sure of +her father's sympathy. She dreaded his man's judgment in this +crisis.</p> +<p>"Now seriously, Elizabeth, don't you think I'd better keep away +from him? I can do nothing—"</p> +<p>"Oh, how cowardly that would be!" she cried. "How cowardly!"</p> +<p>The old general winced at this. He was far from being a coward, +but appearances had their value in his eyes; and even, in its least +serious aspect, young North's predicament was not pleasant to +contemplate.</p> +<p>"But there is nothing I can do, Elizabeth; why should I become +involved?" he urged.</p> +<p>"Then you must go to him from me!" she cried.</p> +<p>"Child—child; what are you saying!" cried the general.</p> +<p>"Either you must go to him, or I shall go!" she said with fine +firmness.</p> +<p>Her father groaned.</p> +<p>"Be frank with me, Elizabeth. Has North ever told you that he +cared for you?"</p> +<p>"Yes."</p> +<p>"When?"</p> +<p>"Before he went away—I mean that last night he was +here."</p> +<p>"I feared as much!" he muttered. "And you, dear?" he continued +gently.</p> +<p>"He said we might have to wait a long time—or I should +have told you! He went away because he was too poor—"</p> +<p>There was a pause.</p> +<p>"Do you care for him, Elizabeth?" her father asked at length. +"Do you wish me to understand that you are +committed—are—"</p> +<p>"Yes," she answered quite simply.</p> +<p>"You are sure it is not just pity—you are sure, Elizabeth? +For you know, right or wrong, he will probably come out of this +with his reputation smirched."</p> +<p>"But he is <i>innocent</i>!"</p> +<p>"That is not quite the point!" urged the general. "We must see +things as they are. You must understand what it may mean to you in +the future, to have given your love to a man who has fallen under +such suspicion. There will always be those who will remember this +against him."</p> +<p>"But <i>I</i> shall know!" she said proudly.</p> +<p>"And that will be enough—you will ask no more than that, +Elizabeth?"</p> +<p>"If my faith in him has never been shaken, could I ask +more?"</p> +<p>He looked at her wistfully. Her courage he comprehended. It was +fine and true, like her sweet unspoiled youth; in its presence he +felt a sudden sense of age and loneliness. He asked himself, had he +lived beyond his own period of generous enthusiasm?</p> +<p>"It would be a poor kind of friendship, a poorer kind of love, +if we did not let him know at once that this has not changed +our—our, regard for him!" she said softly.</p> +<p>"It is not your ready sympathy; you are quite certain it is not +that, Elizabeth?"</p> +<p>"I am sure, father—sure of myself as I am of him! You say +he has been arrested, does that mean—" and she hesitated.</p> +<p>"It means, my dear, that he is in jail," answered the general as +he came slowly to his feet.</p> +<p>She gave a little cry, and running to him hid her face against +his arm.</p> +<p>"In jail!" she moaned, and her imagination and her ignorance +clothed the thought with indescribable horrors.</p> +<p>"Understand, dear, he isn't even indicted yet and he may not be! +It's bad enough, of course, but it might be a great deal worse. Now +what am I to tell him for you?"</p> +<p>"Wait," she said, slipping from his side. "I will write +him—"</p> +<p>"Write your letter then," said her father. "I'll order the +horses at once," he added, as he quitted the room.</p> +<p>Ten minutes later when he drove up from the stables, Elizabeth +met him at the door.</p> +<p>"After you have seen him, father, come home at once, won't you?" +she said as she handed him her letter.</p> +<p>"Yes, I am only going for this," he replied.</p> +<p>It was plain that his errand had not grown less distasteful to +him. Perhaps Elizabeth was aware of this, for she reached up and +passed an arm about his neck.</p> +<p>"I don't believe any girl ever had such a father!" she whispered +softly.</p> +<p>"I suppose I should not be susceptible to such manifest +flattery," said the general, kissing her, "but I find I am! There, +you keep up your courage! This old father of yours is a person of +such excellent sense that he is going to aid and abet you in this +most outrageous folly; I expect, even, that in time, my interest in +this very foolish young man will be only second to your own, my +dear!"</p> +<p>As he drove away he turned in his seat to glance back at the +graceful girlish figure standing in the shelter of Idle Hour's +stone arched vestibule, and as he did so there was a flutter of +something white, which assured him that her keen eyes were +following him and would follow him until the distance and the +closing darkness intervened, and hid him from her sight.</p> +<p>"I hope it will come out all right!" he told himself and +sighed.</p> +<p>If it did <i>not</i> come out all right, where was his peace of +mind; where was the calm, where the long reposeful days he had so +valued? But this thought he put from him as unworthy. After all +Elizabeth's happiness was something he desired infinitely more than +he desired his own. But why could it not have been some one else? +Why was it North; what unkind fate had been busy there?</p> +<p>"She sees more in him than I could ever see!" he said aloud, as +he touched his horse with the whip.</p> +<p>Twenty minutes later he drove up before the court-house, hitched +and blanketed his horse, and passing around the building, now dark +and deserted, reached the entrance to the jail. In the office he +found Conklin at his desk. The sheriff was rather laboriously +engaged in making the entry in his ledger of North's committal to +his charge, a formality which, out of consideration for his +prisoner's feelings, he had dispensed with at the time of the +arrest.</p> +<p>"I wish to see Mr. North. I suppose I may?" his visitor said, +after he had shaken hands with Conklin.</p> +<p>"Certainly, General! Want to go up, or shall I bring him down +here to you?"</p> +<p>"I'd prefer that—I'd much prefer that!" answered the +general hastily.</p> +<p>He felt that it would be something to tell Elizabeth that the +interview had taken place in the sheriff's office.</p> +<p>"All right, just as you say; have a chair." And Conklin left the +room.</p> +<p>The general glanced about him dubiously. Had it not been for his +deep love for Elizabeth he could have wished himself anywhere else +and charged with any other mission. He dropped heavily into a +chair. North's arrest, and the results of that arrest as he now saw +them in that cheerless atmosphere, loomed large before his mind's +eye. He reflected that a trial for murder was a horrible and +soul-racking experience. He devoutly and prayerfully hoped that it +would not come to this in North's case.</p> +<p>His meditation was broken in on by the sound of echoing steps in +the brick-paved passageway, and then North and Conklin entered the +room. On their entrance the general quitted his chair and advanced +to meet the young fellow, whose hand he took in silence. The +sheriff glanced from one to the other; and understanding that there +might be something intimate and personal in their relation, he +said:</p> +<p>"I'll just step back into the building, General; when you and +Mr. North have finished your talk, you can call me."</p> +<p>"Thank you!" said General Herbert, and Conklin withdrew, leaving +the two alone.</p> +<p>There was an awkward pause as they faced each other. The older +man was the first to speak.</p> +<p>"I regret this!" he said at length.</p> +<p>"Not more than I do!" rejoined North, with a fleeting sense of +humor.</p> +<p>He wondered what it was that had brought Elizabeth's father +there.</p> +<p>"What's the matter with Moxlow, anyhow?" the general +demanded.</p> +<p>He glanced sharply into North's face. He saw that the young +fellow was rather pale, but otherwise his appearance was +unchanged.</p> +<p>"All the evidence seems to point my way," said North, and added +a trifle nervously: "I don't understand it—it isn't clear to +me by any means! It came so suddenly, and I was totally unprepared +to meet the situation. I had talked to Moxlow in the morning, but +he had let drop nothing that led me to suppose I was under +suspicion. Of course I am not afraid. I know that it will come out +all right in the end—"</p> +<p>"Do you want anything, North? Is there anything I can do for +you?" asked General Herbert almost roughly.</p> +<p>"Thank you, but apparently there is nothing that any one can do +just now," said North quietly.</p> +<p>The color was creeping back into his face.</p> +<p>"Well, we can't sit idle! Look here, you tried for bail, I +understand?"</p> +<p>"Yes, but it has been refused."</p> +<p>"Do you know when the grand jury sits?"</p> +<p>"Next week. Of course my hope is that it won't go beyond that; I +don't see how it can!"</p> +<p>"Why didn't you send for me at once?" asked the older man with +increasing bruskness. He took a turn about the room. "What does it +all mean? What do you know about McBride's death?" he continued, +halting suddenly.</p> +<p>"Absolutely nothing," said North.</p> +<p>And for an instant the two men looked straight into each other's +eyes.</p> +<p>"You are sure you don't need anything—money, for +instance?" the general asked, shifting his glance.</p> +<p>"I am quite sure, but I am very grateful to you all the +same—"</p> +<p>"Of course the evidence against you is purely +circumstantial?"</p> +<p>"I believe so—yes," answered North. "But there are points +I don't understand."</p> +<p>"I am coming in to-morrow morning to see you, and talk the whole +thing over with you, North."</p> +<p>"I shall be very glad to talk matters over with you, General," +said North.</p> +<p>"I wish I could do something for you to-night!" the general said +with real feeling, for he realized the long evening, and the longer +night that were before the young fellow.</p> +<p>There was a pause. The general could not bring himself to speak +of Elizabeth, and North lacked the courage to ask concerning +her.</p> +<p>"I heard through one of my men of your arrest. He brought word +of it to the farm," the farmer said at length.</p> +<p>"Miss Herbert knows—of course you told her—"</p> +<p>"Yes, North; yes, she knows!" her father replied. "She knows and +she urged me to come!"</p> +<p>He saw North's face light up with a sudden look of joy.</p> +<p>"She urged you to come?" repeated North.</p> +<p>"Yes—I think she would have come herself if I had not been +willing."</p> +<p>"I am glad she did not!" said North quickly.</p> +<p>"Of course! I told her it would only distress you."</p> +<p>"It would only distress her—which is all that is worth +considering," rejoined North.</p> +<p>"That's so!" said the general, approaching the young man and +resting a brown and muscular hand on his shoulder.</p> +<p>"She has told you?" asked North.</p> +<p>The older man nodded.</p> +<p>"Yes, she's told me," he said briefly.</p> +<p>"I can't ask if it was pleasant news at this time," said North. +"What do you wish me to do?" he continued. "She must forget what +was said that night, and I, too, will endeavor to forget—tell +her that." He passed a shaking hand before his face.</p> +<p>"I've a note here for you, North—" General Herbert was +fumbling in his pocket—"from Elizabeth. Don't you be too +quick to decide!"</p> +<p>"With your permission," said North as he took the letter.</p> +<p>He tore it open, and Elizabeth's father, watching him, saw the +expression of his face change utterly, as the lines of tense +repression faded from it. It was clear that for the moment all else +was lost in his feeling of great and compelling happiness. Twice he +read the letter before he could bring himself to replace it in its +envelope. As he did so, he caught the general's eyes fixed on him. +For a moment he hesitated, then he said with the frankness that was +habitual to him:</p> +<p>"I think you should know just what that letter means to me. It +is brave and steadfast—just as she is; no, you were right, I +can't decide—I won't!"</p> +<p>"I wouldn't," said the general. There was a pause and then he +added, "After all, it is not given to every woman to show just how +deep her faith is in the man she loves. It would be too bad if you +could not know that!"</p> +<p>"The situation may become intolerable, General Herbert! Suppose +I am held for the murder—suppose a long trial follows; think +what she will suffer, the uncertainty, the awful doubt of the +outcome, although she knows,—she must know I am +innocent."</p> +<p>"Of course, of course!" cried the general hastily, for these +were points he did not wish to discuss.</p> +<p>"It's a serious matter when you consider the possibility of an +indictment," said North soberly enough.</p> +<p>"That's true; yet we mustn't count the cost now, or at any +future time. But I promised Elizabeth I'd come back at once. What +shall I say to her, North?"</p> +<p>"Tell her that her letter has changed the whole aspect of things +for me. You must try to make her feel the fresh hope she has given +me," John replied, extending his hand.</p> +<p>"Conklin!" called the general. He took North's hand. "Good +night; I'm infinitely sorry to leave you here, North, but I suppose +it can't be helped—"</p> +<p>The sheriff entered the room while he was yet speaking.</p> +<p>"Finished your chat, General?" he asked.</p> +<p>"Yes, thank you, Conklin. Good night. Good night, North," and +Elizabeth's father hurried from the room.</p> +<p>For a moment North stood silent, staring absently at the door +that had just closed on the general's burly figure. He still held +Elizabeth's letter in his hand. In fancy he was seeing her as she +had bent above it, her face tender, compassionate; and then there +rose the vision of that crowded room with its palpable atmosphere, +its score of curious faces all turned toward him in eager +expectation. In the midst of these unworthy surroundings, her face, +beautiful and high bred, eluded him; the likeness, even as he saw +it, was lost, nor could he call it back.</p> +<p>Slowly but certainly that day's experience was fixing itself +unalterably in his memory. He caught the pungent reek from the +wood-stove, and mingling with it the odor of strong cheap tobacco +filled his nostrils again; he was left with the very dregs of +sordid shameful things.</p> +<p>The sheriff touched him on the arm.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_FOURTEEN" id="CHAPTER_FOURTEEN"></a>CHAPTER +FOURTEEN</h2> +<h3>THE GAMBLER'S THEORY</h3> +<p>Gilmore, leaving his apartment, paused to light a cigar, then +sauntered down the steps and into the street. As he did so he saw +Marshall Langham come from the post-office, half a block distant, +and hurry across the Square. Gilmore strode after him.</p> +<p>"Oh, say, Marsh, I want to see you!" he called when he had +sufficiently reduced the distance that separated him from his +friend.</p> +<p>Instantly Langham paused, turning a not too friendly face toward +the gambler.</p> +<p>"You want to see me?" he asked.</p> +<p>"Didn't I say so?" demanded Gilmore, as he gained a place at his +side. "Where are you going, to the office?"</p> +<p>"Yes, I have some letters to answer," and Langham quickened his +pace.</p> +<p>Gilmore kept his place at the lawyer's elbow. For a moment there +was silence between them, and then Gilmore said:</p> +<p>"You got away from McBride's in a hurry Saturday; why didn't you +wait and see the finish?"</p> +<p>Langham made no answer to this, and Gilmore, after another brief +silence, turned on him with an unexpected question:</p> +<p>"How would you like to be in North's shoes, Marsh?" As he spoke, +the gambler rested a hand on Langham's shoulder. He felt him shrink +from the physical contact. "Gives you a chill just to think of it, +doesn't it?" he said. "I suppose Moxlow believes there's the making +of a pretty strong case against him; eh, Marsh?"</p> +<p>"I don't know; I can't tell what he thinks," said Langham +briefly.</p> +<p>"But in North's place, back there in the jail in one of those +brand-new iron cages over the yard, how would you feel? That's what +I want to know!"</p> +<p>Langham met his glance for an instant and then his eyes fell. He +sensed the insinuation that was back of Gilmore's words.</p> +<p>"Can't you put yourself in his place, with the evidence, such as +it is, all setting against you?"</p> +<p>"I'm due at the office," said the lawyer suddenly.</p> +<p>Gilmore took his arm.</p> +<p>"If North didn't kill McBride, who did?" he persisted.</p> +<p>"Why do you ask me such questions?" demanded Langham +resentfully.</p> +<p>"My lord—can't we consider the matter?" asked the gambler +laughing.</p> +<p>"What's the use? Here, I've got to go to the office, +Andy—" and he sought to release himself, but Gilmore retained +his hold.</p> +<p>"I suppose you are going to see North?" he asked.</p> +<p>Langham came to a sudden stop.</p> +<p>"What's that?" he asked hoarsely.</p> +<p>"You have been his intimate for years; surely you are too good a +friend to turn your back on him now!"</p> +<p>"If he wants me, he'll send for me!" muttered Langham.</p> +<p>"Do you mean you aren't <i>going</i> to him, Marsh?" asked the +gambler with well simulated astonishment.</p> +<p>"He knows where I'm to be found," said Langham, striding forward +again, "and, damn it, this is no concern of yours!"</p> +<p>"Well, by thunder!" ejaculated Gilmore.</p> +<p>"I don't need any points from you, Andy!" said Langham, with a +sullen sidelong glance at his companion.</p> +<p>They had crossed the Square, and Langham now halted at the +curb.</p> +<p>"Good-by, Andy!" he said, and shook himself free of the other's +detaining hand.</p> +<p>"Hold on a minute, Marsh!" objected Gilmore.</p> +<p>"Well, what is it, can't you see I am in a hurry?"</p> +<p>"Oh, nothing here, Marsh—" and striding forward, Gilmore +disappeared in the building before which they had paused.</p> +<p>For an instant Langham hesitated, and then he followed the +gambler.</p> +<p>A step or two in advance of him, Gilmore mounted the stairs, and +passing down the hall entered Langham's office. Langham followed +him into the room; he closed the door, and without a glance at +Gilmore removed his hat and overcoat and hung them up on a nail +back of the door; the gambler meanwhile had drawn an easy chair +toward the open grate at the far end of the room, before which he +now established himself with apparent satisfaction.</p> +<p>"I suppose the finding of the coroner's jury doesn't amount to +much," he presently said but without looking in Langham's +direction.</p> +<p>The lawyer did not answer him. He crossed to his desk which +filled the space between the two windows overlooking the +Square.</p> +<p>"You're damn social!" snarled Gilmore over his shoulder.</p> +<p>"I told you I was busy," said Langham, and he began to finger +the papers on his desk.</p> +<p>Gilmore swung around in his chair and faced him.</p> +<p>"So you won't see him—North, I mean?" he queried. "Well, +you're a hell of a friend, Marsh. You've been as thick as thieves, +and now when he's up against it good and hard, you're the first man +to turn your back on him!"</p> +<p>Seating himself, Langham took up his pen and began to write. +Gilmore watched him in silence for a moment, a smile of lazy +tolerance on his lips.</p> +<p>"Suppose North is acquitted, Marsh; suppose the grand jury +doesn't hold him," he said at length; "will the search for the +murderer go on?"</p> +<p>The pen slipped from Langham's fingers to the desk.</p> +<p>"Look here, I don't want to discuss North or his affairs with +you. It's nothing to me; can't you get that through your head?"</p> +<p>"As his friend—" began Gilmore.</p> +<p>"Get rid of that notion, too!"</p> +<p>"That's what I wanted to hear you say, Marsh! So you're not his +friend?"</p> +<p>"No!" exclaimed Langham briefly, and his shaking fingers +searched among the papers on his desk for the pen he had just +dropped.</p> +<p>"So you're not his friend any more?" repeated Gilmore slowly. +"Well, I expect when a fellow gets hauled up for murder it's asking +a good deal of his friends to stand by him! Do you know, Marsh, I'm +getting an increased respect for the law; it puts the delinquents +to such a hell of a lot of trouble. It's a good thing to let alone! +I'm thinking mighty seriously of cutting out the games up at my +rooms; what would you think of my turning respectable, Marsh? Would +you be among the first to extend the warm right hand of +fellowship?"</p> +<p>"Oh, you are respectable enough, Andy!" said Langham.</p> +<p>He seemed vastly relieved at the turn the conversation had +taken. He leaned back in his chair and thrust his hands in his +trousers pockets.</p> +<p>"Say, why can't I put myself where I want to be? What's the +matter with my style, anyhow? It's as good as yours any day, Marsh; +and no one ever saw me drunk—that is a whole lot more than +can be said of you; and yet you stand in with the best people, you +go to houses where I'd be thrown out if I as much as stuck my nose +inside the door!"</p> +<p>"Your style's all right, Andy!" Langham hastened to assure +him.</p> +<p>"Well, it's as good as yours any day!"</p> +<p>"Better!" said Langham, laughing.</p> +<p>"Well, what's the matter with it, then?" persisted Gilmore.</p> +<p>"There's a good deal of it sometimes, it's rather +oppressive—" said the lawyer.</p> +<p>"I'll fix that," said Gilmore shortly.</p> +<p>"I would if I wanted what you seem to think you want," replied +Langham chuckling.</p> +<p>"Marsh, I'm dead serious; I'm sick of being outside all the good +things. I know plenty of respectable fellows, fellows like you; but +I want to know respectable women; why can't I?"</p> +<p>"If you hanker for it, you can; it's up to you, Andy," said +Langham.</p> +<p>The gambler appeared very ingenuous in this new rôle of +his.</p> +<p>"Look here, Marsh, I've never asked anything of you, and you +must admit that I've done you one or two good turns; now I'm going +to ask a favor of you and I don't expect to be refused; fact is, I +ain't going to take a refusal—"</p> +<p>"What is it, Andy?" asked Langham cautiously, "I want you to +introduce me to your wife."</p> +<p>"The hell you do!" ejaculated Langham.</p> +<p>The gambler's brow darkened.</p> +<p>"What do you mean by that?" he demanded angrily.</p> +<p>"Nothing, I was only thinking of Mrs. Langham's probable +attitude in the matter, that was all."</p> +<p>"You mean you think she won't want to meet me?" and in spite of +himself Gilmore's voice sounded strained and unnatural.</p> +<p>"I'm <i>sure</i> she won't," said Langham with cruel candor.</p> +<p>"Well," observed Gilmore coolly, "I'm going to put my case in +your hands, Marsh; you come to my rooms, you drink my whisky, and +smoke my cigars and borrow my money; now I'm going to make a new +deal with you. I'm going to know your wife. I like her +style—she and I'll get on fine together, once we know each +other. You make it plain to her that I'm your friend, your best +friend, about your <i>only</i> friend!"</p> +<p>"You fool—" began Langham.</p> +<p>Gilmore quitted his chair at a bound and strode to Langham's +side.</p> +<p>"None of that, Marsh!" he protested sternly, placing a heavy +hand on Langham's shoulder. "I see we got to understand each other, +you and me! You don't take hints; I have to bang it into you with a +club or you don't see what I'm driving at—"</p> +<p>"I've paid you all I owe you, Gilmore!" said Langham +conclusively. "You can't hold that over me any longer."</p> +<p>"I don't want to!" retorted Gilmore quietly.</p> +<p>"You kept your thumb on me good and hard while you could!"</p> +<p>"Not half so hard as I am going to if you try to get away from +me now—"</p> +<p>"What do you mean by these threats?" cried Langham.</p> +<p>The gambler laughed in his face.</p> +<p>"You've paid me all you owe me, but I want to ask you just one +question. Where did you get the money?"</p> +<p>"That," said Langham, steadying himself by a mighty effort, "is +none of your business!"</p> +<p>"Think not?" and again Gilmore laughed, but before his eyes, +fierce, compelling, Langham's glance wavered and fell.</p> +<p>"I got the money from my father," he muttered huskily.</p> +<p>"You're a liar!" said the gambler. "I know where you got that +money, and you know I know." There was a long pause, and then +Gilmore jerked out:</p> +<p>"But don't you worry about that. In your own fashion you have +been my friend, and it's dead against my creed to go back on a +friend unless he tries to throw me down; so don't you make the +mistake of doing that, or I'll spoil your luck! You think you got +North where you want him; don't you be too sure of that! There's +one person, just one, who can clear him, at least there's only one +who is likely to try, and I'll tell you who it is—it's your +wife—" For an instant Langham thought Gilmore had taken leave +of his senses, but the gambler's next question filled him with +vague terror.</p> +<p>"Where was she late that afternoon, do you know?"</p> +<p>"What afternoon?" asked Langham.</p> +<p>Gilmore gave him a contemptuous glance.</p> +<p>"Thanksgiving afternoon, the afternoon of the murder," he +snapped.</p> +<p>"She was at my father's, she dined there," said Langham +slowly.</p> +<p>"That may be true enough, but she didn't get there until after +six o'clock—I'll bet you what you like on that, and I'll bet +you, too, that I know where she was from five to six. Do you take +me up? No? Of course you don't! Well, I'll tell you all the same. +She was in North's rooms—"</p> +<p>"You lie, damn you!" cried Langham, springing to his feet. He +made an ineffectual effort to seize Gilmore by the throat, but the +gambler thrust him aside with apparent ease.</p> +<p>"Don't try that or you'll get the worst of it, Marsh; you've +been soaking up too much whisky to be any good at that game with +me!" said Gilmore.</p> +<div class="figcenter"><br /> +<a href="images/204.jpg"><img src="images/204.jpg" width="45%" alt= +"" title="" /></a><br /> +<b>"She was in North's rooms—"</b> +<br /></div> +<p>His manner was cool and determined. He took Langham roughly by +the shoulders and threw him back in his chair. The lawyer's face +was ghastly in the gray light that streamed in through the windows, +but he had lost his sense of personal fear in another and deeper +and less selfish emotion. Yet he realized the gambler's power over +him, the power of a perfect and absolute knowledge of his most +secret and hidden concerns.</p> +<p>Gilmore surveyed him with a glance of quiet scorn.</p> +<p>"It was about half past five when she turned up at North's +rooms. He had just come up the stairs ahead of her; I imagine he +knew she was coming. I guess I could tell you a few things you +don't know! All during the summer and fall they've been meeting on +the quiet—" he laughed insolently. "Oh, you have been all +kinds of a fool, Marsh; I guess you've got on to the fact at last. +And I don't wonder you are anxious to see North hang, and that you +won't go near him; I'd kill him if I stood in your place. But maybe +we can fix it so the law will do that job for you. It seems to have +the whip-hand with him just now. Well, he was the whole thing with +your wife when she went away this fall and then he began to take up +with the general's girl—sort of to keep his hand in, I +suppose—the damn fool! For she ain't a patch on your wife. I +guess Mrs. Langham had been tipped off to this new +deal—that's what brought her back to Mount Hope in such a +hurry, and she went to his rooms to have it out with him and learn +just where she stood. I was in my bedroom and I could hear them +talking through the partition. It wasn't peaches and cream, for she +was rowing all right!"</p> +<p>"It's a lie!" cried Langham, and he strove to rise to his feet, +but Gilmore's strong hand kept him in his chair.</p> +<p>"No, I don't lie, Marsh, you ought to know that by this time; +but there's just one point you want to get through your head; with +your wife's help North can prove an alibi. He won't want to +compromise her, or himself with the Herbert girl, for that matter; +but how long do you think he's going to keep his mouth shut with +the gallows staring him in the face? I'm willing to go as far in +this matter as the next, but you got to do your part and pay the +price, or I'll throw you down so hard you'll never get over the +jar!" His heavy jaws protruded. "Now, I've a notion I want to know +your wife. I like her style. I guess you can trust her with +me—you ain't afraid of that, are you?"</p> +<p>"Take your hands off me!" cried Langham, struggling +fiercely.</p> +<p>He tore at the gambler's wrists, but Gilmore only laughed his +tantalizing laugh.</p> +<p>"Oh, come, Marsh, let's get back to the main point. If North's +indicted and your wife's summoned as a witness, she's got to chip +in with us, she's got to deny that she was in his room that +day—you got to see to that, I can't do everything—"</p> +<p>"On your word—"</p> +<p>"Well, you needn't quote me to her—it wouldn't help my +standing with her—but ask her where she was between half past +five and six the day of the murder; and mind this, you must make +her understand she's got to keep still no matter what happens! Put +aside the notion that North won't summon her; wait until he is +really in danger and then see how quick he squeals!"</p> +<p>"She may have gone to his rooms," said Langham chokingly, "but +that doesn't prove anything wrong—"</p> +<p>"Oh, come, Marsh, you ain't fool enough to feel that way about +it—"</p> +<p>"Let me up, Gilmore!"</p> +<p>"No, I won't; I'm trying to make you see things straight for +your own good. What's the matter, anyhow; don't you and your wife +get on?"</p> +<p>Langham's face was purple with rage and shame, while his eyes +burned with a murderous hate. Rude hands had uncovered his hidden +sore; yet ruder speech was making mock of the disgraceful secret. +It was of his wife that this coarse bully was speaking! That what +he said was probably true—Evelyn herself had admitted +much—did not in the least ease the blow that had crushed his +pride and self-respect. He lay back in his chair, limp and panting +under Gilmore's strong hands. Where was his own strength of heart +and arm that he should be left powerless in this moment of +unspeakable degradation?</p> +<p>"It behooves you to do something more than soak up whisky," said +the gambler. "You must find out what took your wife to North's +rooms, and you must make her keep quiet no matter what happens. If +you go about it right it ought to be easy, for they had some sort +of a row and he's mixed up with the Herbert girl; you got that to +go on. Now, the question is, is she mad enough to see him go to the +penitentiary or hang without opening her mouth to save him? Come, +you should know something about her by this time; I would, if I had +been married to her as long as you have."</p> +<p>Suddenly he released Langham and fell back a step. The lawyer +staggered to his feet, adjusting his collar and cravat which +Gilmore's grasp on his throat had disarranged. He glanced about him +with a vague notion of obtaining some weapon that would put him on +an equality with his more powerful antagonist, but nothing offered, +and he took a step toward the door.</p> +<p>"Don't be a fool, Marsh," said the gambler coldly. "I'm going to +change my tactics with you. I'm not going to wear myself out +keeping your nose pointed in the right direction; you must do +something for yourself, you drunken fool!"</p> +<p>Langham took another step toward the door, but his +eyes—the starting bloodshot eyes of a hunted +animal—still searched the room for some weapon. Except for +the heavy iron poker by the grate, there was nothing that would +serve his purpose, and he must pass the gambler to reach that. +Still fumbling with his collar he paused irresolutely, midway of +the room. Pride and self-respect would have taken him from the +place but hate and fear kept him there.</p> +<p>Gilmore threw himself down in a chair before the fire and lit a +cigar. In spite of himself Langham watched him, fascinated. There +was such conscious power and mastery in everything the gambler did, +that he felt the various purposes that were influencing him +collapse with miserable futility. What was the use of +struggling?</p> +<p>"You can do as you blame please in this matter, Marsh," said the +gambler at length. "I haven't meant to offend you or insult you, +but if you want to see it that way—all right, it suits me. +You needn't look about you, for you won't find any sledges here; +you ought to know that."</p> +<p>"What do you mean—" asked Langham in a whisper.</p> +<p>"Draw up a chair and sit down, Marsh, and we'll thrash this +thing out if it takes all night. Here, have a cigar!" for Langham +had drawn forward a chair. With trembling fingers he took the cigar +the gambler handed him. "Now light up," said Gilmore. He watched +Langham strike a match, watched his shaking hands as he brought its +flame to the cigar's end. "That's better," he said as the first +puff of smoke left Langham's colorless lips. "So you think you want +to know what I mean, eh? Well, I'm going to take you into my +confidence, Marsh, and just remember you can't possibly reach the +poker without having me on top of you before you get to it! You +were pretty sober for you the afternoon of the murder, not more +than half shot, we'll say, but later on when you hunted me up at +the McBride house, you were as drunk as you will ever be, and +slobbering all sorts of foolishness!"</p> +<p>He puffed his cigar in silence for a moment. Langham's had gone +out and he was nervously chewing the end of it.</p> +<p>"What did I say?" he asked at length.</p> +<p>"Oh, all sorts of damn nonsense. You're smart enough sober, but +get you drunk and you ain't fit to be at large!"</p> +<p>"What did I say?" repeated Langham.</p> +<p>"Better let me forget that," rejoined Gilmore significantly. +"And look here, Marsh, I was sweating blood Saturday when they had +Nelson on the stand, but it's clear he had no suspicion that my +rooms were occupied on the night of the murder. You were blue about +the gills while Moxlow was questioning him, and I don't wonder; as +I tell you, I wasn't comfortable myself, for I knew well enough how +that bit of burnt bond got into the ash barrel—"</p> +<p>"Hush! For God's sake—" whispered Langham in +uncontrollable terror.</p> +<p>Gilmore laughed.</p> +<p>"My lord, man, you got to keep your nerve! Look here, Mount Hope +ain't going to talk of anything but the McBride murder; you are +going to hear it from morning to night, and that's one of the +reasons you got to keep sober. You've done your best so far to +queer yourself, and unless you listen to reason you may do it +yet."</p> +<p>"I don't know what you mean—" said Langham.</p> +<p>"Don't you, Marsh? Well, I got just one more surprise in store +for you, but I'll keep it to myself a while longer before I spring +it on you."</p> +<p>He was thinking of Joe Montgomery's story; if Langham did not +prove readily tractable, that should be the final weapon with which +he would beat him into submission. Presently he said:</p> +<p>"I've all along had my own theory about old man McBride's +murder, and now I'm going to see what you think of it, Marsh."</p> +<p>An icy hand seemed to be clutching Langham's heart. Gilmore's +cruel smiling eyes noted his suffering. He laughed.</p> +<p>"Of course, I don't think North killed McBride, not for one +minute I don't; in fact, it's a dead moral certainty he didn't!" He +leaned forward in his chair and looked into his companion's eyes. +For an instant Langham met his glance without flinching and then +his eyes shifted and sought the floor. "I'll bet," said Gilmore's +cool voice, "I'll bet you what you like I could put my hand on the +man who did the murder!" and as he spoke he reached out and by an +apparently accidental gesture, rested his hand on Langham's +shoulder. "You wouldn't like to risk any money on that little bet, +eh, Marsh?" He sank back in his chair and applied himself to his +cigar in silence, but his eyes never left Langham's face.</p> +<p>Presently he took the cigar from between his strong even teeth. +"Now, I'm going to give you my theory," he said. "I want to see +what you think of it—but remember always, I believe in +letting well enough alone! They got North caged in one of those +nice new cells down at the jail and that suits me all right! My +theory is that the man who killed McBride was needing money mighty +badly and he went to McBride as a sort of a last chance. He found +the old fellow alone in the office—understand, he didn't go +there with any fixed purpose of killing him, his ideas had not +carried him that far—he was willing to borrow the money if +the old man would lend it to him. He probably needed quite a sum, +say two or three thousand dollars, and the need was urgent, you +must keep that in mind and then you'll see perfectly how it all +happened. Possibly my man was of the sort who don't fancy +disagreeable interviews and had put off going to the store until +the last moment, but once he had settled that point with himself he +was determined he wouldn't come away without the money. The old +fellow, however, took a different view of the situation; he +couldn't see why he should lend any money, especially when the +borrower was vague on the matter of security.</p> +<p>"Well, I guess they talked quite a while there at the back of +the store, McBride standing in the doorway of the office all the +time. At last it got to my man that he wasn't to have the money. +But there was trouble ahead of him if he didn't get it and he +wouldn't give up; he kept on making promises—urging his +need—and his willingness and ability to meet his obligations. +He was like a starving man in the presence of food, for he knew +McBride had the money in his safe and the safe door was open. His +need seemed the only need in all the world, and it came to him that +since McBride would not lend him the money he wanted, why not take +it from him anyhow? He couldn't see consequences, he could only +realize that he must have two or three thousand dollars! Perhaps he +got a glimmer of reason just here, and if he did he was pretty +badly frightened to think that he should even consider violence; he +turned away to leave McBride and the old man followed him a ways +down the store, explaining why they couldn't do business."</p> +<p>Gilmore paused. His cigar had gone out; now he struck a match, +but he did not take his eyes from Langham's face. He did not speak +at once even when his cigar was lighted.</p> +<p>Great beads of perspiration stood thick on Langham's brow, his +hair was damp and clammy. He was living that unspeakable moment +over again, with all its madness and horror. He saw himself as he +had walked scowling toward the front of the store; he had paused +irresolutely with his hand on the door-knob and then had turned +back. The old merchant was standing close by the scales, a tall +gaunt figure in the waning light of day.</p> +<p>"Why do you tell me you can't do it?" he had demanded with dull +anger. "You have the money, I know that!"</p> +<p>"I didn't tell you I couldn't do it, Mr. Langham, I merely +intimated that I wouldn't," the old man had rejoined dryly.</p> +<p>"You have the money in your safe!"</p> +<p>"What if I have? It's mine to do with as I think proper."</p> +<p>"A larger sum than I want—than I need!"</p> +<p>"Quite likely."</p> +<p>A furious gust of passion had laid hold of him, the +consciousness of his necessity, all-compelling and relentless, +swept through his brain. Money he must have!—his success, his +happiness, everything depended on it, and what could money mean to +this feeble old man whose days were almost spent?</p> +<p>"I want you to let me have two thousand dollars!" he had +insisted, as he placed his hand on the old merchant's shoulder. +"Get it for me; I swear I'll pay it back. I'll give you such +security as I can—my note—"</p> +<p>McBride had laughed dryly at this, and he turned on his heel as +though to reënter the office. Langham shot a quick glance +about him; the store was empty, the street before it deserted; he +saw through the dingy windows the swirling scarfs of white that the +wind sent flying across the Square. Now was his time if ever! +Bitter resentment urged him on—it was a monstrous thing that +those who could, would not help him!</p> +<p>Near the scales was an anvil, and leaning against the +anvil-block was a heavy sledge. As the old merchant turned from +him, he had caught up the sledge and had struck him a savage blow +on the head. McBride had dropped to the floor without cry or +groan.</p> +<p>Langham passed his hand before his eyes to blot out the vision +of that still figure on the floor, and a dry sob burst from his +lips.</p> +<p>"Eh, did you speak, Marsh?" asked Gilmore.</p> +<p>"No," said Langham in a whisper.</p> +<p>Gilmore laughed.</p> +<p>"You are seeing just how it all happened, Marsh. There was a +sledge by the anvil that stood near those scales, and when the old +fellow wouldn't come to time, my man lost all restraint and +snatched it up, and a second later McBride was dead. After that my +man had things all his own way. He went through the safe and took +what was useful to him,—and those damn bonds of North's which +weren't useful,—and skipped by the side door and out over the +shed roof and down the alley, just as Joe said."</p> +<p>Gilmore paused, and flicked away a bit of cigar ash that had +lodged in a crease of his coat.</p> +<p>"That's the whole story of the McBride murder. Now what do you +think of my theorizing, Marsh; how does it strike you?"</p> +<p>But Langham did not answer him. The gambler's words had brought +it all back; he was living again the agony of that first conscious +moment when he realized the thing he had done. He remembered his +hurried search for the money, and his flight through the side door; +he remembered crossing the shed roof and the panic that had seized +him as he dropped into the alley beyond, unseen, safe as he +supposed. A debilitating reaction, such as follows some tremendous +physical effort, had quickly succeeded. He had wandered through the +deserted streets seeking control of himself in vain. Finally he had +gone home. Evelyn was at his father's and the servant absent for +the day. He had let himself in with his latchkey and had gone at +once to the library. There he fell to pacing to and fro; +ten—twenty minutes had passed, when the sudden noisy clamor +of the town bell had taken him, cowering, to the window; but the +world beyond was a vaguely curtained white.</p> +<p>He raised his heavy bloodshot eyes and looked into the gambler's +smiling face. He realized the futility of his act, since it had +placed him irrevocably in Gilmore's power. He had endured +unspeakable anguish all to no purpose, since Gilmore knew; knew +with the certitude of an eye-witness. And there the gambler sat +smiling and at ease, torturing him with his cunning speech.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_FIFTEEN" id="CHAPTER_FIFTEEN"></a>CHAPTER +FIFTEEN</h2> +<h3>LOVE THAT ENDURES</h3> +<p>A melancholy wind raked the bare hills which rose beyond the +flats, and found its way across half the housetops in Mount Hope to +the solitary window that gave light and air to John North's narrow +cell. For seven long days, over the intervening housetops, he had +been observing those undulating hills, gazing at them until they +seemed like some great live thing continually crawling along the +horizon's rim, and continually disappearing in the distance. Now he +was watching their misted shapes sink deep into the twilight.</p> +<p>North, by his counsel, had waved the usual preliminary hearing +before the mayor, his case had gone at once to the grand jury, he +had been indicted and his trial was set for the February term of +court. Watt Harbison had warned him that he might expect only this, +yet his first feeling of astonished horror remained with him.</p> +<p>As he stood by his window he was recalling the separate events +of the day. The court room had been crowded to the verge of +suffocation; when he entered it a sudden hush and a mighty craning +of necks had been his welcome, and he had felt his cheeks redden +and pale with a sense of shame at his hapless plight. Those many +pairs of eyes that were fixed on him seemed to lay bare his inmost +thoughts; he had known no refuge from their pitiless +insistence.</p> +<p>In that close overheated room the vitiated air had slowly +mounted to the brain; soon a third of the spectators nodded in +their chairs scarcely able to keep awake; others moved restlessly +with a dull sense of physical discomfort, while the law, expressing +itself in archaic terms, wound its way through a labyrinth of +technicalities, and reached out hungrily for his very life.</p> +<p>He knew that he would be given every opportunity to establish +his innocence, but he could not rid himself of the ugly +disconcerting belief that a man hunt was on, and that he, the +hunted creature, was to be driven from cover to cover while the +state drew its threads of testimony about him strand by strand, +until they finally reached his very throat, choking, strangling, +killing!</p> +<p>He thought of Elizabeth and was infinitely sorry. She must +forget him, she must go her way and leave him to go his—or +the law's. He could face the ruin of his own life, but it must stop +there! He wondered what they were saying and doing at Idle Hour; he +wondered what the whole free world was doing, while he stood there +gazing from behind his bars at the empurpled hills in the +distance.</p> +<p>He fell to pacing the narrow limits of his room; four steps took +him to the door, then he turned and four steps took him back to his +starting-point, the barred window. Presently a footfall sounded in +the corridor, a key was fitted in the heavy lock, and the door was +opened by Brockett, the sheriff's deputy, a round-faced, jolly, +little man with a shiny bald head and a closely cropped gray +mustache.</p> +<p>"You've got visitors, John!" said Brockett cheerfully, pausing +in the doorway.</p> +<p>North turned on him swiftly.</p> +<p>"The general and Miss Herbert,—you see your friends ain't +forgot you! You'll want to see them, I suppose, and you'd rather go +down in the office, wouldn't you?"</p> +<p>"I should much prefer it!" said North.</p> +<p>His first emotion had been one of keen delight, but as he +followed Brockett down the corridor the memory of what he was, and +where he was, came back to him. He had no right to demand anything +of love or friendship,—guilty or innocent mattered not at +all! They were nearing the door now beyond which stood Elizabeth +and her father, and North paused, placing a hand on the deputy's +arm. The spirit of his renunciation had been strong within him, but +another feeling was stronger still, he found; an ennobling pride in +her devotion and trust. What a pity the finer things of life were +so often the impractical! He pushed past the deputy and entered the +office.</p> +<p>Elizabeth came toward him with hands extended. Her cheeks were +quite colorless but the smile that parted her lips was infinitely +tender and compassionate.</p> +<p>"You should not have come here!" North said, almost +reproachfully, as his hands closed about hers.</p> +<p>General Herbert stood gravely regarding the two, and his glance +when it rested on North was troubled and uncertain. The +difficulties which beset this luckless fellow were only beginning, +and what would the end be?</p> +<p>"Father!"</p> +<p>Elizabeth had turned toward him, and he advanced with as brave a +show of cordiality as he could command; but North read and +understood the look of pain in his frank gray eyes.</p> +<p>"You agree with me that she should never have come here," North +said quietly. "But you couldn't refuse her!" he added, and his +glance went back to Elizabeth.</p> +<p>"Under the circumstances it was right for her to come!" said the +general. But in his heart he was none too sure.</p> +<p>"I couldn't remain away after to-day; I had been waiting for +that stupid jury to act—" She ended abruptly with a little +laugh that became a sob, and her father rested a large and gentle +hand upon her shoulder.</p> +<p>"There, dear, I told you all along it wouldn't do to count on +any jury!"</p> +<p>"My affairs are worth considering only as they affect you, +Elizabeth!" said North. "I was thinking of you when Brockett came +to tell me you were here. Won't you go away from Mount Hope? I want +you to forget,—no—" for she was about to speak; "wait +until I have finished;—even if I am acquitted this will +always be something discreditable in the eyes of the world, it's +going to follow me through life! It is going to be hard for me to +bear, it will be doubly hard for you, dear. I want your father to +take you away and keep you away until this thing is settled. I +don't want your name linked with mine; that's why I am sorry you +came here, that's why you must never come here again."</p> +<p>"You mustn't ask me to go away from Mount Hope, John!" said +Elizabeth. "I am ready and willing to face the future with you; I +was never more willing than now!"</p> +<p>"You don't understand, Elizabeth!" said North. "We are just at +the beginning. The trial, and all that, is still before +us—long days of agony—"</p> +<p>"And you would send me away when you will most need me!" she +said, with gentle reproach.</p> +<p>"I wish to spare you—"</p> +<p>"But wherever I am, it will be the same!"</p> +<p>"No, no,—you must forget—!"</p> +<p>"If I can't,—what then?" she asked, looking up into his +face.</p> +<p>"I want you to try!" he urged.</p> +<p>She shook her head.</p> +<p>"Dear, I have lived through all this; I have asked myself if I +really cared so much that nothing counted against the little +comfort I might be to you; so much that the thought of what I am to +you would outweigh every other consideration, and I am sure of +myself. If I were not, I should probably wish to escape from it +all. I am as much afraid of public opinion as any one, and as +easily hurt, but my love has carried me beyond the point where such +things matter!"</p> +<p>"My dear! My dear! I am not worthy of such love."</p> +<p>"You must let me be the judge of that."</p> +<p>"Suppose the verdict is—guilty?" he asked.</p> +<p>"No,—no, it will never be that!" But the color left her +cheeks.</p> +<p>"I don't suppose it will be," agreed North hastily.</p> +<p>It was a cruel thing to force this doubt on her.</p> +<p>"You won't send me away, John?" she entreated. "If I were to +leave Mount Hope now it would break my heart! I—we—my +father and I, wish every one to know that our confidence in you is +unshaken."</p> +<p>North turned to the general with a look of inquiry, of appeal. +Something very like a sigh escaped the older man's lips, but he +squared his shoulders manfully for the burdens they must bear. He +said quietly:</p> +<p>"Let us consider a phase of the situation that Elizabeth and I +have been discussing this afternoon. Watt Harbison is no doubt +doing all he can for you; but he was at Idle Hour last night, and +said he would, himself, urge on you the retention of some +experienced criminal lawyer. He suggested Ex-judge Belknap; I +approve of this suggestion—"</p> +<p>But North shook his head.</p> +<p>"Oh, yes, John, it must be Judge Belknap!" cried Elizabeth. +"Watt says it must be, and father agrees with him!"</p> +<p>"But I haven't the money, dear. His retainer would probably +swallow up all I have left."</p> +<p>"Leave Belknap to me, North!" interposed the general.</p> +<p>North's face reddened.</p> +<p>"You are very kind, and I—I appreciate it all,—but +don't you see I can't do that?" he faltered.</p> +<p>"Don't be foolish, John. You must reconsider this determination; +as a matter of fact I have taken the liberty of communicating with +Belknap by wire; he will reach Mount Hope in the morning. We are +vitally concerned, North, and you must accept +help—money—whatever is necessary!"</p> +<p>The expression on North's face softened, and tears stood in his +eyes.</p> +<p>"I knew you would prove reasonable," continued the general, and +he glanced at Elizabeth.</p> +<p>She was everything to him. He could have wished that North was +almost any one else than North; and in spite of himself this +feeling gave its color to their interview, something of his wonted +frankness was lacking. It was his unconscious protest.</p> +<p>"Very well, then, I will see Judge Belknap, and some +day—when I can—" said North, still struggling with his +emotion and his pride.</p> +<p>"Oh, don't speak of that!" exclaimed General Herbert +hastily.</p> +<p>"This miserable business could not have happened at a worse time +for me!" said the young fellow with bitterness.</p> +<p>"Don't say that, John!" pleaded Elizabeth. "For your +friends—"</p> +<p>"You and your father, you mean!" interrupted North.</p> +<p>"It is hard enough to think of you here alone, without—" +Her voice faltered, and this time her eyes filled with tears.</p> +<p>"I'll not object again, Elizabeth; that you should suffer is +much the worst part of the whole affair!"</p> +<p>Brockett had entered the room and General Herbert had drawn him +aside.</p> +<p>"I am coming every day, John!" said Elizabeth.</p> +<p>"Will your father agree to that?" asked North.</p> +<p>"Yes, can't you see how good and kind he is!"</p> +<p>"Indeed I can, it is far beyond what I should be in his place, +I'm afraid."</p> +<p>"It has been so horrible,—such nights of agony—" she +whispered.</p> +<p>"I know, dear,—I know!" he said tenderly.</p> +<p>"They are not looking for other clues and yet the man who killed +poor old man McBride may be somewhere in Mount Hope at this very +minute!"</p> +<p>"Until I am proved innocent, I suppose they see nothing to do," +said North.</p> +<p>"But, John, you are not afraid of the outcome?" And she rested a +hand on his arm.</p> +<p>"No, I don't suppose I really am,—I shall be able to clear +myself, of course; the law doesn't often punish innocent men, and I +am innocent."</p> +<p>He spoke with quiet confidence, and her face became radiant with +the hope that was in his words.</p> +<p>"You have taken to yourself more than your share of my evil +fortunes, Elizabeth, dear—I shall be a poor sort of a fellow +if my gratitude does not last to the end of my days!" said +North.</p> +<p>The general had shaken hands with the deputy and now crossed the +room to Elizabeth and North.</p> +<p>"We shall have to say good night, North. Can we do anything +before we go?" he asked.</p> +<p>"We will come again to-morrow, John,—won't we, father?" +said Elizabeth, as she gave North her hands. "And Judge Belknap +will be here in the morning!" She spoke with fresh courage and +looked her lover straight in the eyes. Then she turned to the +general.</p> +<p>North watched them as they passed out into the night, and even +after the door had closed on them he stood where she had left him. +It was only when the little deputy spoke that he roused himself +from his reverie.</p> +<p>"Well, John, are you ready now?"</p> +<p>"Yes," said North.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_SIXTEEN" id="CHAPTER_SIXTEEN"></a>CHAPTER +SIXTEEN</h2> +<h3>AT HIS OWN DOOR</h3> +<p>Judge Langham sat in his library before a brisk wood fire with +the day's papers in a heap on the floor beside him. In repose, the +one dominant expression of the judge's face was pride, an austere +pride, which manifested itself even in the most casual intercourse. +Yet no man in Mount Hope combined fewer intimacies with a wider +confidence, and his many years of public life had but augmented the +universal respect in which he was held.</p> +<p>Now in the ruddy light of his own hearth, but quite divorced +from any sentiment or sympathy, the judge was considering the case +of John North. His mind in all its operations was singularly clear +and dispassionate; a judicial calm, as though born to the bench, +was habitual to him. It was nothing that his acquaintance with John +North dated back to the day John North first donned +knee-breeches.</p> +<p>He shaded his face with his hand. In the long procession of +evil-doers who had gone their devious ways through the swinging +baize doors of his court, North stalked as the one great criminal. +Unconsciously his glance fixed itself on the hand he had raised to +shield his eyes from the light of the blazing logs, and it occurred +to him that that hand might yet be called on to sign away a man's +life.</p> +<p>The ringing of his door-bell caused him to start expectantly, +and a moment later a maid entered to say that a man and a woman +wished to see him.</p> +<p>"Show them in!" said the judge.</p> +<p>And Mr. Shrimplin with all that modesty of demeanor which one of +his sensitive nature might be expected to feel in the presence of +greatness, promptly insinuated himself into the room.</p> +<p>The little lamplighter was dressed in those respectable garments +which in the Shrimplin household were adequately described as his +"other suit," and as if to remove any doubt from the mind of the +beholder that he had failed to prepare himself for the occasion, he +wore a clean paper collar, but no tie, this latter being an +adornment Mr. Shrimplin had not attempted in years. Close on +Shrimplin's heels came a jaded unkempt woman in a black dress, worn +and mended. On seeing her the judge's cold scrutiny somewhat +relaxed.</p> +<p>"So it's you, Nellie?" he said, and motioned her to a chair +opposite his own.</p> +<p>Not knowing exactly what was expected of him, Mr. Shrimplin +remained standing in the middle of the room, hat in hand.</p> +<p>"Be seated, Shrimplin," said the judge, sensing something of the +lamplighter's embarrassment in his presence and rather liking him +for it.</p> +<p>"Thank you, Judge," replied Shrimplin, selecting a +straight-backed chair in a shadowy corner of the room, on the very +edge of which he humbly established himself.</p> +<p>"Better draw nearer the fire, Shrimplin!" advised the judge.</p> +<p>"Thank you, Judge, I ain't cold," rejoined Mr. Shrimplin in his +best manner.</p> +<p>The judge turned to the woman. She had once been a servant in +his household, but had quitted his employ to marry Joe Montgomery, +and to become by that same act Mr. Shrimplin's sister-in-law. The +judge knew that her domestic life had been filled with every known +variety of trouble, since from time to time she had appealed to him +for help or advice, and on more than one occasion at her urgent +request he had interviewed the bibulous Joe.</p> +<p>"I hope you are not in trouble, Nellie," he said, not +unkindly.</p> +<p>"Yes I am, Judge!" cried his visitor in a voice worn thin by +weariness.</p> +<p>"It's that disgustin' Joe!" interjected Mr. Shrimplin from his +corner, advancing his hooked nose from the shadows. "Don't take up +the judge's time, Nellie; time's money, and money's as infrequent +as a white crow."</p> +<p>And then suddenly and painfully conscious of his verbal +forwardness, the little lamplighter sank back into the grateful +gloom of his corner and was mute.</p> +<p>"It's my man, Judge—" said Nellie.</p> +<p>And the judge nodded comprehendingly.</p> +<p>"I don't know how me and my children are to live through the +winter, I declare I don't, Judge, unless he gives me a little +help!"</p> +<p>"And the winter ain't fairly here yet, and it's got a long belly +when it does come!" said Mr. Shrimplin.</p> +<p>Immediately the little man was conscious of the impropriety of +his language. He realized that the happy and forcefully expressed +philosophy with which he sought to open Custer's mind to the +practical truths of life, was a jarring note in the judge's +library.</p> +<p>"Joe's acting scandalous, Judge, just scandalous!" said Nellie +with sudden shrill energy. "That man would take the soul out of a +saint with his carryings-on!"</p> +<p>"It seems to me there is nothing new in this," observed the +judge a little impatiently. "Is he under arrest?"</p> +<p>"No, Judge, he ain't under arrest—" began Nellie.</p> +<p>"Which ain't saying he hadn't ought to be!" the little +lamplighter snorted savagely. He suddenly remembered he was there +to give his moral support to his sister-in-law.</p> +<p>"That man's got a new streak into him, Judge. I thought he'd +about done everything he could do that he shouldn't, but he's broke +out in a fresh spot!"</p> +<p>"What has he been doing, Nellie?" asked the judge, who felt that +his callers had so far lacked in directness and definiteness.</p> +<p>"What ain't he been doing, you'd better say, Judge!" cried +Nellie miserably.</p> +<p>"Is he abusing you or the children?"</p> +<p>"I don't see him from one week's end to another!"</p> +<p>"Am I to understand that he has deserted you?" questioned the +judge.</p> +<p>"No, I can't say that, for he sends his clothes home for me to +wash and mend."</p> +<p>"Ain't that the human sufferin' limit?" gasped Mr. +Shrimplin.</p> +<p>"I suppose you wash and mend them?" And the judge smiled +faintly.</p> +<p>"Of course," admitted Mrs. Montgomery simply.</p> +<p>"Does he contribute anything toward your support?" asked the +judge.</p> +<p>The woman laughed sarcastically at this.</p> +<p>"It takes a barkeeper to pry Joe loose from his coin," +interjected Mr. Shrimplin. "Get down to details, Nellie, and tell +the judge what kind of a critter you're hitched up to."</p> +<p>"He told Arthur, that's my oldest boy, if I didn't stop +bothering him, that he was just man enough to pay five dollars for +the fun of knocking the front off my face!"</p> +<p>"That was a choice one to hand out to an eldest son, wasn't it, +your Honor?" said the little lamplighter, tugging at his flaxen +mustache.</p> +<p>"I just manage to keep a roof over our heads," went on Nellie, +"and without any thanks to him; but he has plenty of money, and +where it comes from I'd like to know, for he ain't done a lick of +work in weeks!"</p> +<p>"Fact, Judge!" remarked Mr. Shrimplin. "I've made it my business +lately to keep one eye on Joe. He spends half his time loafin' at +Andy Gilmore's rooms, and the other half gettin' pickled."</p> +<p>"What do you wish me to do?" asked the judge, addressing himself +to Mrs. Montgomery.</p> +<p>"I wish, Judge, that you'd send word to him that you want to see +him!"</p> +<p>"And toss a good healthy scare into him!" added Mr. Shrimplin +aggressively.</p> +<p>"But he might not care to respect the summons; there is no +reason why he should," explained the judge.</p> +<p>"If he knows you want to see him, he'll come here fast enough!" +said Nellie.</p> +<p>The judge turned to Shrimplin.</p> +<p>"Will you tell him this, Shrimplin, the first time you see +him?"</p> +<p>"Won't I!" said the little lamplighter. "Certainly, +Judge—certainly!" and his agile fancy had already clothed the +message in verbiage that should terrify the delinquent Joe.</p> +<p>"Very well, then; but beyond giving him a word of advice and +warning; I can do nothing."</p> +<p>A night or two later, as the judge, who had spent the evening at +Colonel Harbison's, came to his own gate, he saw a slouching figure +detach itself from the shadows near his front door and advance to +meet him midway of the graveled path that led to the street. It was +Joe Montgomery.</p> +<p>"Well, my man!" said the judge, with some little show of +sternness. "I suppose you received my message?"</p> +<p>Montgomery uncovered his shock of red hair, while his bulk of +bone and muscle actually trembled in the presence of the small but +awesome figure confronting him. He might have crushed the judge +with a blow of his huge fist, but no possible provocation could +have induced him to lay hands on Nellie's powerful ally.</p> +<p>"That skunk Shrimplin says my old woman's been here," he +faltered, "poisonin' your mind agin me!" A sickly grin relaxed his +heavy jaws. "The Lord only knows what she expects of a man—I +dunno! The more I try, the worse she gets; nothin' satisfies +her!"</p> +<p>His breath, reeking of whisky, reached the judge.</p> +<p>"This is all very well, Montgomery, but I have a word or two to +say to you—come into the house."</p> +<p>He led his disreputable visitor into the library, turned up the +gas, and intrenched himself on the hearth-rug with his back to the +fire. The handy-man had kept near the door leading into the +hall.</p> +<p>"Come closer!" commanded the judge, and Montgomery, hat in hand, +advanced a step. "I wish to warn you, Montgomery, that if you +persist in your present course, it is certain to bring its own +consequences," began the judge.</p> +<p>"Sure, boss!" Joe faltered abjectly.</p> +<p>"I understand from Nellie that you have practically deserted +your family," continued the judge.</p> +<p>"Ain't she hateful?" cried Joe, shaking his great head.</p> +<p>"When she married you, she had a right to expect you would not +turn out the scoundrel you are proving yourself."</p> +<p>"Boss, that's so," agreed Montgomery.</p> +<p>"This won't do!" said the judge briskly. "Nellie says she +doesn't see you from one week's end to another; that you have money +and yet contribute nothing toward her support nor the support of +your family."</p> +<p>"I am willin' to go home, Judge!" said Montgomery, fingering his +cap with clumsy hands. He took a step nearer the slight figure on +the hearth-rug and dropped his voice to a husky half maudlin +whisper. "He won't let me—see—I'm a nigger slave to +him! I know I got a wife—I know I got a family, but he +says—no! He says—'Joe, you damned old sot, you'll go +home with a few drinks inside your freckled hide and begin to shoot +off your mouth, and there'll be hell to pay for all of us!'"</p> +<p>"He? What are you saying—who won't let you go home?" +demanded the judge.</p> +<p>"Andy Gilmore; he's afraid my old woman will get it out of me. I +tell him I'm a married man but he says, 'No, you old soak, you stay +here!'"</p> +<p>"What has Andy Gilmore to do with whether you go home or not?" +inquired the judge.</p> +<p>"It's him and Marsh," said the handy-man. "They bully me till +I'm that rattled—"</p> +<p>"Marsh—do you mean my son, Marshall?" interrupted the +judge.</p> +<p>"Yes, boss—"</p> +<p>"I don't understand this!" said the judge after a moment of +silence. "Why should Mr. Gilmore or my son wish to keep you away +from your wife?"</p> +<p>"It's just a notion of theirs," replied Montgomery with sudden +drunken loyalty. "And I'll say this—money never come so +easy—and stuff to drink! Andy's got it scattered all about +the place; there ain't many bars in this here town stocked up like +his rooms!"</p> +<p>The judge devoted a moment to a close scrutiny of his +caller.</p> +<p>"You are some sort of a relative of Mr. Gilmore's, are you not?" +he asked at length.</p> +<p>"We're cousins, boss."</p> +<p>"Why does he wish to keep you away from your family?" the judge +spoke after another brief pause.</p> +<p>"It's my old woman," and Montgomery favored the judge with a +drunken leer. "Suppose I was to go home full, what's to hinder her +from gettin' things out of me? I'm a talker, drunk or sober, and +Andy Gilmore knows it—that's what he's afraid of!"</p> +<p>"What have you to tell that could affect Mr. Gilmore? Do you +refer to the gambling that is supposed to go on in his rooms? If +so, he is at needless pains in the matter; Mr. Moxlow will take up +his case as soon as the North trial is out of the way."</p> +<p>Montgomery started, took a forward step, and dropping his voice +to an impressive whisper, said:</p> +<p>"Judge, what are you goin' to do with young John North?"</p> +<p>"I shall do nothing with John North; it is the +law—society, to which he is accountable," rejoined the +judge.</p> +<p>"Will he be sent up, do you reckon?" asked Montgomery, and his +small blue eyes searched the judge's face eagerly.</p> +<p>"If he is convicted, he will either be sentenced to the +penitentiary for a term of years or else hanged." The judge spoke +without visible feeling.</p> +<p>The effect of his words on the handy-man was singular. A hoarse +exclamation burst from his lips, and his bloated face became pale +and drawn.</p> +<p>"You mustn't do that, boss!" he cried, spreading out his great +hands in protest. "A term of years—how many's that?"</p> +<p>"In this particular instance it may mean the rest of his life," +said the judge.</p> +<p>Montgomery threw up his arms in a gesture of despair.</p> +<p>"Don't you be too rough on him, boss!" he cried. "For life!" he +repeated in a tone of horror. "But that ain't what Andy and Marsh +tell me; they say his friends will see him through, that he's got +the general back of him, and money—how's that, Judge?"</p> +<p>"They are making sport of your ignorance," said the judge, +almost pityingly.</p> +<p>"I'm done with them!" cried Joe Montgomery with a great oath. He +raised one clenched hand and brought it down in the opened palm of +the other. "Andy's everlastingly lied to me; I won't help send no +man up for life!"</p> +<p>"What do you mean?" demanded the judge, astonished at this +sudden outburst, and impressed, in spite of himself, by the man's +earnestness.</p> +<p>"Just what I say, boss! They can count me out—I'm agin +'em, I'm agin 'em every time!" And again, as if to give force to +his words, he swung his heavy first around and struck the open palm +of his other hand a stinging blow. "Eatin' and sleepin', I'm agin +'em! I ain't liked the look of this from the first, and now I'm +down and out, and they can go to hell for all of me!"</p> +<p>The judge rested an elbow on the chimneypiece and regarded +Montgomery curiously. He knew the man was drunk; he knew that sober +he would probably have said much less than he was now saying, but +he also knew that there was some powerful feeling back of his +words.</p> +<p>"If you are involved in any questionable manner with Mr. +Gilmore, I should advise you to think twice before you go further +with it. Mr. Gilmore is shrewd, he has money; you are a poor man +and you are an ignorant man. Your reputation is none of the +best."</p> +<p>"Thank you, boss!" said Montgomery gratefully.</p> +<p>"Mr. Gilmore probably expects to use you for his own ends +regardless of the consequences to you," finished the judge.</p> +<p>"Supposin'—" began the handy-man huskily, "supposin', +boss, I was to go into court and swear to something that wasn't so; +what's that?" and he bent a searching glance on the judge's +face.</p> +<p>"Perjury," said the judge laconically.</p> +<p>"What's it worth to a man? I reckon it's like drinkin' and +stealin', it's got so many days and costs chalked up agin it?"</p> +<p>"I think," said the judge quietly, "that you would better tell +me what you mean. Ordinarily I should not care to mix in your +concerns, but on Nellie's account—"</p> +<p>"God take a likin' to you, boss!" cried Montgomery. "I know I +ought to have kept out of this. I told Andy Gilmore how it would +be, that I hadn't the brains for it; but he was to stand back of +me. And so he will—to give me a kick and a shove when he's +done with me!"</p> +<p>He saw himself caught in that treacherous fabric Gilmore had +erected for John North, whose powerful friends would get him clear. +Andy and Marsh would go unscathed, too. Only Joe Montgomery would +suffer—Joe Montgomery, penniless and friendless, a cur in the +gutter for any decent man to kick! He passed the back of his hand +across his face.</p> +<p>"It's a hell of a world and be damned to it!" he muttered +hoarsely under his breath.</p> +<p>"You must make it clearer to me than this!" said the judge +impatiently.</p> +<p>Montgomery seemed to undergo a brief but intense mental +struggle, then he blurted out:</p> +<p>"Boss, I lied when I said it was North I seen come over old man +McBride's shed that night!"</p> +<p>"Do you mean to tell me that you perjured yourself in the North +case?" asked the judge sternly.</p> +<p>"Sure, I lied!" said the handy-man. "But Andy Gilmore was back +of that lie; it was him told me what I was to say, and it's him +that kept houndin' me, puttin' me up to say more than I ever agreed +to!" He slouched nearer the judge. "Boss, I chuck up the whole +business; do you understand? I want to take back all I said; I'm +willin' to tell the God A'mighty's truth!"</p> +<p>He paused abruptly. In his excitement he had forgotten what the +truth meant, what it would mean to the man before him. He was +vaguely aware that in abler hands than his own, this knowledge +which he possessed would have been molded into a terrible weapon, +but he was impotent to use it; with every advantage his, he felt +only the desperate pass in which he had placed himself. If Gilmore +and Marshall Langham could juggle with John North's life, what of +his own life when the judge should have become their ally!</p> +<p>"Me and you'll have to fix up what I got to say, boss!" he added +with a cunning grin.</p> +<p>"Do you mean you wish to make a statement to me?" asked the +judge.</p> +<p>The handy-man nodded. The judge hesitated.</p> +<p>"Perhaps we would better send for Mr. Moxlow?" he suggested.</p> +<p>But Montgomery shook his head vehemently.</p> +<p>"I got nothin' to say to that man Moxlow!" he growled with +sullen determination.</p> +<p>"Very well, then, if you prefer to make your statement to me," +and the judge turned to his desk.</p> +<p>"Hold on, boss, we ain't ready for that just yet!" Joe objected. +He was sober enough, by this time.</p> +<p>"What is it you wish to tell me?"</p> +<p>And the judge resumed his former position on the hearth-rug.</p> +<p>"First you got to agree to get me out of this."</p> +<p>"I can agree to nothing," answered the judge quietly.</p> +<p>"I ain't smart, boss, but Joe Montgomery's old hide means a +whole lot to Joe Montgomery! You give me your word that I'll be +safe, no matter what happens!"</p> +<p>"I can promise you nothing," repeated the judge.</p> +<p>"Then what's the use of my tellin' you the truth?" demanded +Montgomery.</p> +<p>"It has become the part of wisdom, since you have already +admitted that you have perjured yourself."</p> +<p>"Boss, if it wasn't John North I seen in the alley that day, who +was it?" and he strode close to the judge's side, dropping his +voice to a whisper.</p> +<p>"Perhaps the whole story was a lie."</p> +<p>The handy-man laughed and drew himself up aggressively.</p> +<p>"I'm a man as can do damage—I got to be treated right, or +by the Lord I'll <i>do</i> damage! I been badgered and hounded by +Marsh and Andy Gilmore till I'm fair crazy. They got to take their +hands off me and leave me loose, for I won't hang no man on their +say-so! John North never done me no harm, I got nothing agin +him!"</p> +<p>"You have admitted that your whole story of seeing John North on +the night of the McBride murder is a lie," said the judge.</p> +<p>"Boss, there is truth enough in it to hang a man!"</p> +<p>"You saw a man cross McBride's sheds?"</p> +<p>And the judge kept his eyes fastened on the handy-man's +face.</p> +<p>"I seen a man cross McBride's shed, boss."</p> +<p>"And you have sworn that that man was John North."</p> +<p>"I swore to a lie. Boss, we got to fix it this way: I seen a man +come over the roof and drop into the alley; I swore it was John +North, but I never meant to swear to that; the most I promised Andy +was that I'd say I thought it <i>looked</i> like John North, but +them infernal lawyers got after me, and the first thing I knowed +I'd said it <i>was</i> John North!"</p> +<p>"Your story is absurd!" exclaimed the judge, with a show of +anger.</p> +<p>The handy-man raised his right hand dramatically.</p> +<p>"It's God A'mighty's everlastin' truth!" he swore.</p> +<p>"Understand, I have made you no promises," said the judge, +disregarding him.</p> +<p>"You're goin' back on me!" cried Montgomery. "Then you look out. +I'm a man as can do harm if I have a mind to; don't you give me the +mind, boss!"</p> +<p>"I shall lay this matter before Mr. Moxlow in the morning," +replied the judge quietly and with apparent indifference, but +covertly he was watching the effect of his words on Montgomery.</p> +<p>"And then they'll be after me!" cried the handy-man.</p> +<p>"Very likely," said the judge placidly.</p> +<p>Montgomery glanced about as though he half expected to see +Gilmore rise up out of some shadowy corner.</p> +<p>"Boss, do you want to know who it was I seen come over old man +McBride's shed? Do you want to know why Andy and Marsh are so set +agin my goin' home to my old woman? Why they give me money? It's a +pity I ain't a smarter man! I'd own 'em, both body and soul!"</p> +<p>"Man, you are mad!" cried the judge.</p> +<p>But this man who was usually austere and always unafraid, was +feeling a strange terror of the debased and slouching figure before +him.</p> +<p>"Do you reckon you're man enough to hear what I got in me to +tell?" asked Montgomery, again raising his right hand high above +his head as if he called on Heaven to witness the truth of what he +said. "Why won't they let me go home to my old woman, boss? Why do +they keep me at Andy Gilmore's—why do they give me money? +Because what I'm tellin' you is all a lie, I suppose! Just because +they like old Joe Montgomery and want him 'round! I don't think!" +He threw back his head and laughed with rough sarcasm. "You're a +smarter man than me, boss; figure it out; give a reason for +it!"</p> +<p>But the judge, white-faced and shaken to his very soul, was +silent; yet he guessed no part of the terrible truth Montgomery +supposed he had made plain to him. At the most he believed Marshall +was shielding Gilmore from the consequences of a crime the gambler +had committed.</p> +<p>Montgomery, sinister and menacing, shuffled across the room and +then back to the judge's side.</p> +<p>"You ask Marsh, boss, what it all means. I got nothin' more to +say! Ask him who killed old man McBride! If he don't know, no man +on this green earth does!"</p> +<p>The judge's face twitched convulsively, but he made no answer to +this.</p> +<p>"Ask him!" repeated the handy-man, and swinging awkwardly on his +heel went from the room without a single backward glance.</p> +<p>An instant later the street-door closed with a noisy bang.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_SEVENTEEN" id="CHAPTER_SEVENTEEN"></a>CHAPTER +SEVENTEEN</h2> +<h3>AN UNWILLING GUEST</h3> +<p>Montgomery told himself he would go home; he had seen the last +of the gambler and Marsh Langham, he would look out for his own +skin now and they could look out for theirs. He laughed +boisterously as he strode along. He had fooled them both; he, Joe +Montgomery, had done this, and by a very master stroke of cunning +had tied the judge's hands. But as he shuffled down the street he +saw the welcoming lights of Lonigan's saloon and suddenly +remembered there was good hard money in his ragged pockets. He +would have just one drink and then go home to his old woman.</p> +<p>It was well on toward midnight when he came out on the street +again, and the one drink had become many drinks; still mindful of +his original purpose, however, he reeled across the Square on his +way home. He had just turned into Mulberry Street when he became +conscious of a brisk step on the pavement at his side, and at the +same instant a heavy hand descended on his shoulder and he found +himself looking into Andy Gilmore's dark face.</p> +<p>"Where have you been?" demanded Gilmore. "I thought I told you +to stay about to-night!"</p> +<p>"I have been down to Lonigan's saloon," faltered Joe, his +courage going from him at sight of the gambler.</p> +<p>"What took you there?" asked Gilmore angrily. "Don't you get +enough to drink at my place?"</p> +<p>"Lots to drink, boss, but it's mostly too rich for my blood. I +ain't used to bein' so pampered."</p> +<p>"Come along with me!" said Gilmore briefly.</p> +<p>"Where to, boss?" asked Montgomery, in feeble protest.</p> +<p>"You'll know presently."</p> +<p>"I thought I'd like to go home, maybe—" said Joe +irresolutely.</p> +<p>"Never mind what you thought you'd like, you come with me!" +insisted Gilmore.</p> +<p>Although the handy-man's first impulse had been that of revolt, +he now followed the gambler meekly back across the Square. They +entered the building at the corner of Main Street and mounted to +Mr. Gilmore's rooms. The latter silently unlocked the door and +motioned Montgomery to precede him into the apartment, then he +followed, pausing midway of the room to turn up the gas which was +burning low. Next he divested himself of his hat and coat, and +going to a buffet which stood between the two heavily curtained +windows that overlooked the Square, found a decanter and glasses. +These he brought to the center-table, where he leisurely poured his +unwilling guest a drink.</p> +<p>"Here, you old sot, soak this up!" he said genially.</p> +<p>"Boss, I want to go home to my old woman!" began the handy-man, +after he had emptied his glass.</p> +<p>"Your old woman will keep!" retorted Gilmore shortly.</p> +<p>"But, boss, I got to go to her; the judge says I must! She's +been there to see him; damn it, she cried and hollered and took on +awful because she ain't seein' me; it was pitiful!"</p> +<p>"What's that?" demanded Gilmore sharply.</p> +<p>"It was pitiful!" repeated Montgomery, shaking his great head +dolorously.</p> +<p>"Oh, cut that! Who have you seen?"</p> +<p>"Judge Langham."</p> +<p>"When did you see him?"</p> +<p>Mr. Gilmore spoke with a forced calm.</p> +<p>"To-night. My old woman—"</p> +<p>"Oh, to hell with your old woman!" shouted the gambler +furiously. "Do you mean that you were at Judge Langham's +to-night?"</p> +<p>"Yes, boss; he sent for me, see? I had to go!" explained +Montgomery.</p> +<p>"Why did you go there without letting me know, you drunken +loafer?" stormed Gilmore.</p> +<p>He took the handy-man by the arm and pushed him into a chair, +then he stood above him, black-browed and menacing.</p> +<p>"Boss, don't you blame me, it was my old woman; she wants me +home with the kids and her, and the judge, he says I got to +go!"</p> +<p>"If he wants to know why I'm keeping you here, send him round to +me!" said Gilmore.</p> +<p>"All right, I will." And Montgomery staggered to his feet.</p> +<p>But Gilmore pushed him back into his chair.</p> +<p>"What else did you talk about besides your old woman?" asked the +gambler, after an oppressive silence in which Montgomery heard only +the thump of his heart against his ribs.</p> +<p>"I told him you'd always been like a father to me—" said +the handy-man, ready to weep.</p> +<p>"I'm obliged to you for that!" replied Gilmore with a smile of +grim humor.</p> +<p>"He said he always knowed it," added Montgomery, misled by the +smile.</p> +<p>"Well, what else?" questioned Gilmore.</p> +<p>"Why, I reckon that was about all!" said Joe, who had ventured +as far afield into the realms of fancy as his drunken faculties +would allow.</p> +<p>"You're sure about that?"</p> +<p>"I hope I may die—"</p> +<p>"And the judge says you're to go home?"</p> +<p>"Say, Shrimp took my old woman there, and she cried and bellered +and carried on awful! She loves me, boss—the judge says I'm +to go home to her to-night or he'll have me pinched. He says that +you and Marsh ain't to keep me here no longer!"</p> +<p>His voice rose into a wail, for blind terror was laying hold of +him. There was something, a look on Gilmore's handsome cruel face, +he did not understand but which filled him with miserable +foreboding.</p> +<p>"What's that, about Marsh and me keeping you here?" inquired +Gilmore.</p> +<p>"You got to leave me loose—"</p> +<p>"So you told him that?"</p> +<p>"I had to tell him somethin'. My old woman made an awful fuss! +They had to throw water on her; Shrimp took her home in an +express-wagon. Hell, boss, I'm a married man—I got a family! +I know what I ought to do, and I'm goin' home, the judge says I got +to! Him and me talked it all over, and he's goin' to speak to Marsh +about keepin' me here!"</p> +<p>"So you've told him we keep you here?" And the gambler glowered +at him. He poured himself a drink of whisky and swallowed it at a +gulp. "Well, what else did you tell him?" he asked over the rim of +his glass.</p> +<p>"That's about all; only me and the judge understand each other," +said the handy-man vaguely.</p> +<p>"Well, it was enough!" rejoined Gilmore. "You are sure you +didn't say anything about North?"</p> +<p>Montgomery shook his head in vigorous denial.</p> +<p>"Sure?" repeated Gilmore, his glance intent and piercing. +"Sure?"</p> +<p>A sickly pallor was overspreading the handy-man's flame-colored +visage. It began at his heavy puffy jaws, and diffused itself about +his cheeks. He could feel it spread.</p> +<p>"Sure?" said the gambler. "Sure?"</p> +<p>There was an awful pause. Gilmore carefully replaced his glass +on the table, then he roared in a voice of thunder:</p> +<p>"Stand up, you hound!"</p> +<p>Montgomery realized that the consequences of his treachery were +to be swift and terrible. He came slowly to his feet, but no sooner +had he gained them than Gilmore drove his fist into his face, and +he collapsed on his chair.</p> +<p>"Stand up!" roared Gilmore again.</p> +<p>And again Montgomery came erect only to be knocked back into a +sitting posture, with a long gash across his jaw where the +gambler's diamond ring had left its mark.</p> +<p>"I tell you, stand up!" cried Gilmore.</p> +<p>Reaching forward he seized Montgomery by the throat with his +left hand and jerked him to his feet, then holding him so, he +coolly battered his face with his free hand.</p> +<p>"For God's sake, quit, boss—you're killin' me!" cried Joe, +as he vainly sought to protect his face with his arms.</p> +<p>But Mr. Gilmore had a primitive prejudice in favor of brute +force, and the cruel blows continued until Montgomery seemed to +lose power even to attempt to shield himself; his great hands hung +helpless at his side and his head fell over on his shoulder. Seeing +which the gambler released his victim, who, limp and quivering, +dropped to the floor.</p> +<p>Still crazed with rage, Gilmore kicked the handy-man into a +corner, and turning poured himself still another drink of whisky. +If he had spoken then of what was uppermost in his mind, it would +have been to complain of the rotten luck which in so ticklish a +business had furnished him with fools and sots for associates. He +should have known better than to have trusted drunken Joe +Montgomery; he should have kept out of the whole +business—</p> +<p>With the suddenness of revelation he realized his own +predicament, but with the realization came the knowledge that he +was now hopelessly involved; that he could not go back; that he +must go on, or—here he threw back his shoulders as though to +cast off his evil forebodings—or between the dusk of one day +and the dawn of another, he might disappear from Mount Hope.</p> +<p>With this cheering possibility in mind, he picked up the glass +of whisky beside him and emptied it at a single draught, then he +put on his overcoat and hat and went from the room, locking the +door behind him.</p> +<p>Presently the wretched heap on the floor stirred and moaned +feebly, and then lay still. A little later it moaned again. Lifting +his head he stared vacantly about him.</p> +<p>"Boss—" he began in a tone of entreaty, but realizing that +he was alone he fell weakly to cursing Gilmore.</p> +<p>It was a good five minutes from the time he recovered +consciousness until he was able to assume a sitting posture, when +he rested his battered face in his hands and nursed his +bruises.</p> +<p>"And me his cousin!" he muttered, and groaned again.</p> +<p>He feebly wiped his bloody hands on the legs of his trousers and +by an effort staggered to his feet. His only idea was escape; and +steadying himself he managed to reach the door; but the door was +locked, and he flung himself down in a convenient chair and once +more fell to nursing his wounds.</p> +<p>Fifteen or twenty minutes had passed when he heard steps in the +hallway. He knew it was Gilmore returning, but the gambler was not +alone; Montgomery heard him speak to his companion as a key was +fitted to the lock. The door swung open and Gilmore, followed by +Marshall Langham, entered the room.</p> +<p>"Here's the drunken hound, Marsh!" said the gambler.</p> +<p>"For God's sake, boss, let me out of this!" cried Montgomery, +addressing himself to Langham.</p> +<p>"Yes, we will—like hell!" said Gilmore. "By rights we +ought to take you down to the creek, knock you in the head and +heave you in—eh, Marsh? That's about the size of what we +<i>ought</i> to do!"</p> +<p>Langham's face was white and drawn with apprehension, yet he +surveyed the ruin the gambler had wrought with something like +pity.</p> +<p>"Why, what's happened to him, Andy?" he asked.</p> +<p>His companion laughed brutally.</p> +<p>"Oh, I punched him up some, I couldn't keep my hands off him, I +only wonder I didn't kill him—"</p> +<p>"Let me out of this, boss—" whined the handy-man.</p> +<p>"Shut up, you!" said the gambler roughly.</p> +<p>He drew back his hand, but Langham caught his arm.</p> +<p>"Don't do that, Andy!" he said. "He isn't in any shape to stand +much more of that; and what's the use, the harm's done!"</p> +<p>The gambler scowled on his cousin Joe with moody resentment.</p> +<p>"All the same I've got a good notion to finish the job!" he +said.</p> +<p>"Let me go home, boss!" entreated Montgomery, still addressing +himself to Langham. "God's sake, he pretty near killed me!"</p> +<p>He stood up on shaking legs.</p> +<p>Wretched, abject, his uneasy glance shifted first from one to +the other of his patrons, who were now his judges, and for aught he +knew would be his executioners as well. The gambler glared back at +him with an expression of set ferocity which told him he need +expect no mercy from that source; but with Langham it was +different; he at least was not wantonly brutal. The sight of +physical suffering always distressed him and Joe's bruised and +bloody face was more than he could bear to look at.</p> +<p>"For two cents I'd knock him on the head!" jerked out +Gilmore.</p> +<p>"Oh, quit, Andy; let him alone! I want to ask him a question or +two," said Langham.</p> +<p>"You'll never know from him what he said or didn't +say—you'll learn that from the judge himself," and Gilmore +laughed harshly.</p> +<p>A minute or two passed before Langham could trust himself to +speak. When he did, he turned to Montgomery to ask:</p> +<p>"I wish you'd tell me as nearly as you can what you said to my +father?"</p> +<p>"I didn't go there to tell him anything, boss; he just got it +out of me. What chance has a slob like me with him?"</p> +<p>"Got what out of you?" questioned Langham in a low voice.</p> +<p>"Well, he didn't get much, boss," replied Montgomery, shaking +his head.</p> +<p>"But what did you tell him?" insisted Langham.</p> +<p>"I don't remember, boss, I was full, see—and maybe I said +too much and then agin maybe I didn't!"</p> +<p>"I hope you like this, Marsh; it's the sort of thing I been up +against," said Gilmore.</p> +<p>By way of answer Langham made a weary gesture. The horror of the +situation was now a thing beyond fear.</p> +<p>"I'm for sending the drunken loafer to the other side of the +continent," said Gilmore.</p> +<p>"What's the use of that?" asked Langham dully.</p> +<p>"Every use," rejoined Gilmore with fresh confidence. "It's +enough, ain't it, that he's talked to your father; we can't take +chances on his talking to any one else. There's the west-bound +express; I'm for putting him on that—there's time enough. We +can give him a couple of hundred dollars and that will be the end +of him, for if he ever shows his face here in Mount Hope, I'll +break every bone in his body. What do you say?"</p> +<p>"Perhaps you are right!" And Langham glanced uncertainly at the +handy-man.</p> +<p>"Well, it's either that, or else I can knock him over the head. +Perhaps you had rather do that, it's more in your line."</p> +<p>"Boss, you give me the money and let me go now, and I won't +<i>ever</i> come back!" cried Montgomery eagerly. "I been lookin' +for the chance to get clear of this bum town! I'll stay away, don't +you lose no sleep about that; I ain't got nothin' to ever bring me +back."</p> +<p>And on the moment Mr. Montgomery banished from his mind and +heart all idea of the pure joys of domestic life. It was as if his +old woman had never been. He was sure travel was what he required, +and a great deal of it, and all in one direction—away from +Mount Hope.</p> +<p>No unnecessary time was wasted on Montgomery's appearance. A wet +towel in the not too gentle hands of Mr. Gilmore removed the blood +stains from his face, and then he was led forth into the +night,—the night which so completely swallowed up all trace +of him that his old woman and her brood sought his accustomed +haunts in vain. Nor was Mr. Moxlow any more successful in his +efforts to discover the handy-man's whereabouts. As for Mount Hope +she saw in the mysterious disappearance of the star witness only +the devious activities of John North's friends.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_EIGHTEEN" id="CHAPTER_EIGHTEEN"></a>CHAPTER +EIGHTEEN</h2> +<h3>FATHER AND SON</h3> +<p>While Mr. Gilmore was an exceedingly capable accomplice, at once +resourceful, energetic, unsentimental and conscienceless, he yet +combined with these solid merits, certain characteristics which +rendered uninterrupted intercourse with him a horror and a shame to +Marshall Langham who was daily and almost hourly paying the price +the gambler had set on his silence. And what a price it was! +Gilmore was his master, coarse, brutal, and fiercely exacting. How +he hated him, and yet how necessary he had become; for the gambler +never faltered, was never uncertain; he met each difficulty with a +callous readiness which Langham knew he himself would utterly have +lacked. He decided this was because Gilmore was without +imagination, since in his own many fearful, doubting moments, he +saw always what he had come to believe as the inevitable time when +the wicked fabric they were building would collapse like a house of +cards in a gale of wind, and his terrible secret would be revealed +to all men.</p> +<p>All this while, step by step, Gilmore, without haste but without +pause, was moving toward his desires. He came and went in the +Langham house as if he were master there.</p> +<p>When Marshall had first informed Evelyn that he expected to have +Mr. Gilmore in to dinner, there had been a scene, and she had +threatened to appeal to the judge; but he told her fiercely that he +would bring home whom he pleased, that it suited him to be decent +to Andy and that was all there was to it. And apparently she soon +found something to like in this strange intimate of her husband's; +at least she had made no protest after the gambler's first visit to +the house.</p> +<p>On his part Gilmore was quickly conscious of the subtle +encouragement she extended him. She understood him, she saw into +his soul, she divined his passion for her and she was not shocked +by it. In his unholy musings he told himself that here was a woman +who was dead game—and a lady, too, with all the pretty ways +and refinements that were so lacking in the other women he had +known.</p> +<p>Montgomery was some two days gone toward the West and Gilmore +had dropped around ostensibly to see Marshall Langham, but in +reality to make love to Marshall Langham's wife, when the judge, +looking gray and old, walked in on the little group unobserved. He +paused for an instant near the door.</p> +<p>Evelyn was seated before the piano and Gilmore was bending above +her, while Marshall, with an unread book in his hands and with a +half-smoked cigar between his teeth, was lounging in front of the +fire. The judge's glance rested questioningly on Gilmore, but only +for a moment. Then an angry flame of recognition colored his thin +cheeks.</p> +<p>Aware now of his father's presence, Marshall tossed aside his +book and quitted his chair. For two days he had been dreading this +meeting, and for two days he had done what he could to avert +it.</p> +<p>"You must have had a rather cold walk, father; let me draw a +chair up close to the fire for you," he said.</p> +<p>Evelyn had risen to greet the judge, while the gambler turned to +give him an easy nod. A smile hid itself in the shadow of his black +mustache; he was feeling very sure of himself and surer still of +Evelyn. The disfavor or approval of this slight man of sixty meant +nothing to him.</p> +<p>"How do you do, sir!" said the judge with icy civility.</p> +<p>Had he met Gilmore on the street he would not have spoken to +him. As he slowly withdrew his eyes from the gambler, he said to +his son:</p> +<p>"Can you spare me a moment or two, Marshall?"</p> +<p>"Come into the library," and Marshall led the way from the +room.</p> +<p>They walked the length of the hall in silence, Marshall a step +or two in advance of the judge. He knew his father was there on no +trivial errand. This visit was the result of his interview with Joe +Montgomery. How much had the handy-man told him? This was the +question that had been revolving in his mind for the last two days, +and he was about to find an answer to it.</p> +<p>The father and son entered the room, each heavily preoccupied. +Marshall seated himself and stared moodily into the fire. Already +the judge had found a chair and his glance was fixed on the carpet +at his feet. Presently looking up he asked:</p> +<p>"Will you be good enough to tell me what that fellow is doing +here?"</p> +<p>"Andy?"</p> +<p>The single word came from Langham as with a weary acceptance of +his father's anger.</p> +<p>"Yes, certainly—Gilmore—of whom do you imagine me to +be speaking?"</p> +<p>"Give a dog a bad name—"</p> +<p>"He has earned his name. I had heard something of this but did +not credit it!" said the judge.</p> +<p>There was another pause.</p> +<p>"Perhaps you will be good enough to explain how I happen to meet +that fellow here?"</p> +<p>The judge regarded his son fixedly. There had always existed a +cordial frankness in their intercourse, for though the judge was a +man of few intimacies, family ties meant much to him, and these +ties were now all centered in his son. He had shown infinite +patience with Marshall's turbulent youth; an even greater patience +with his dissipated manhood; he believed that in spite of the +terrible drafts he was making on his energies, his future would not +be lacking in solid and worthy achievement. In his own case the +traditional vice of the Langhams had passed him by. He was grateful +for this, but it had never provoked in him any spirit of +self-righteousness; indeed, it had only made him the more tender in +his judgment of his son's lapses.</p> +<p>"Marshall—" and the tone of anger had quite faded from his +voice—"Marshall, what is that fellow's hold on you?"</p> +<p>"You would not appreciate Andy's peculiar virtues even if I were +to try to describe them," said Marshall with a smile of sardonic +humor.</p> +<p>"Do you consider him the right sort of a person to bring into +your home?"</p> +<p>"It won't hurt him!" said Marshall.</p> +<p>The judge, with a look on his face that mingled astonishment and +injury, sank back in his chair. He never attempted anything that +even faintly suggested flippancy, and he was unappreciative of this +tendency in others.</p> +<p>"You have not told me what this fellow's hold on you is?" he +said, after a moment's silence.</p> +<p>"Oh, he's done me one or two good turns."</p> +<p>"You mean in the way of money?"</p> +<p>Marshall nodded.</p> +<p>"Are you in his debt now, may I ask?"</p> +<p>"No," and Marshall moved restlessly.</p> +<p>"Are you quite frank with me, Marshall?" asked the judge with +that rare gentleness of voice and manner that only his son +knew.</p> +<p>"Quite."</p> +<p>"Because it would be better to make every sacrifice and be rid +of the obligation."</p> +<p>Another long pause followed in which there came to the ears of +the two men the sound of a noisy waltz that Evelyn was playing. +Again it was the judge who broke the oppressive silence.</p> +<p>"I came here to-night, Marshall, because there is a matter I +must discuss with you. Perhaps you will tell me what you and +Gilmore have done with Joe Montgomery?"</p> +<p>Marshall had sought to prepare himself against the time when +this very question should be asked him, but the color left his +cheeks.</p> +<p>"I don't think I know what you mean," he said slowly.</p> +<p>His father made an impatient gesture.</p> +<p>"Don't tell me that! What has become of Montgomery? Look at me! +Two nights ago he came to see me; I had sent for him; I had learned +from Nellie that he had practically deserted her. I learned further +from the man himself that you and Gilmore were largely responsible +for this."</p> +<p>"He was drunk, of course."</p> +<p>"He had been drinking—yes—"</p> +<p>"Doesn't that explain his remarkable statement? What reason +could Andy or any one have for wishing to keep him from his wife?" +asked Marshall who had recovered his accustomed steadiness.</p> +<p>"He was ready with an answer for that question when I asked it. +Do you wish to know what that answer was?" said the judge.</p> +<p>Marshall did not trust himself to speak; he felt the judge's +eyes on him and could not meet them. He saw himself cowering there +in his chair with his guilt stamped large on every feature. His +throat was dry and his lips were parched, he did not know whether +he could speak. His shoulders drooped and his chin rested on his +breast. What was the use—was it worth the struggle? Suppose +Montgomery, in spite of his promises, came back to Mount Hope, +suppose Gilmore's iron nerve failed him!</p> +<p>"You don't answer me, Marshall," said the judge.</p> +<p>"I don't understand you—" evaded Marshall.</p> +<p>"From my soul I wish I could believe you!" exclaimed his father. +"If it's not debt, what is the nature of your discreditable +connection with Gilmore?"</p> +<p>Marshall glanced up quickly; he seemed to breathe again; perhaps +after all Montgomery had said less than he supposed him to have +said!</p> +<p>"I have already told you that I owe Gilmore nothing!"</p> +<p>"I should be glad to think it, but I warn you to stand clear of +him and his concerns, for I am going to investigate the truth of +Montgomery's story," declared the judge.</p> +<p>"What did he tell you?" Marshall spoke with an effort.</p> +<p>"That his evidence in the North case was false, that it was +inspired by Gilmore."</p> +<p>Marshall passed a shaking hand across his face.</p> +<p>"Nonsense!" he said.</p> +<p>"His story will be worth looking into. He stood for the truth of +what he said in part, he insisted that he saw a man cross McBride's +shed on the night of the murder and drop into the alley, and the +man was not John North. He seemed unwilling that North, through any +instrumentality of his, should suffer for a crime of which he was +innocent; his feeling on this point was unfeigned and +unmistakable."</p> +<p>There was silence again, while the two men stared at each other. +From the parlor the jarring sound of the music reached them, +inconceivably out of harmony with the seriousness of their +mood.</p> +<p>"I have wished to take no action in the matter of Montgomery's +disappearance until I saw you, Marshall," said the judge. "I have +been sick with this thing! Now I am going to lay such facts as I +have before Moxlow."</p> +<p>Marshall stared moodily into the fire. He told himself that the +prosecuting attorney would be in great luck if he got anything out +of Gilmore.</p> +<p>"I purpose to suggest to Moxlow a fresh line of investigation +where this important witness is concerned, and Mr. Gilmore as the +man most likely to clear up the mystery surrounding his +disappearance from Mount Hope. We may not be able to get anything +very tangible out of him in the way of information, but I imagine +we may cause him some little anxiety and annoyance. You can't +afford to be mixed up in this affair, and I warn you again to stand +clear of Gilmore! If there is any truth in Montgomery's statement +it can only have the most sinister significance, for I don't need +to tell you that some powerful motive must be back of Gilmore's +activity. If North was not responsible for McBride's death, where +do the indications all point? Who more likely to commit such a +crime than a social outcast—a man plying an illegal trade in +defiance of the laws?"</p> +<p>"Hush! For God's sake speak lower!" cried Marshall, giving way +to an uncontrollable emotion of terror.</p> +<p>Racked and shaken, he stared about him as if he feared another +presence in the room. The judge leaned forward and rested a thin +hand on his son's knee.</p> +<p>"Marshall, what do you know of Gilmore's connection with this +matter?"</p> +<p>"I want him let alone! To lay such stress on Montgomery's +drunken talk is absurd!"</p> +<p>The judge's lips met in a determined line.</p> +<p>"I scarcely expected to hear that from you! I am not likely, as +you know, to be influenced in the discharge of my duty by any +private consideration."</p> +<p>He quitted his chair and stood erect, his figure drawn to its +fullest height.</p> +<p>"Wait—I didn't mean that," protested Marshall.</p> +<p>The judge resumed his chair.</p> +<p>"What did you mean?" he asked.</p> +<p>"What's the use of throwing Moxlow off on a fresh scent?"</p> +<p>"That's a very remarkable point of view!" said the judge, with a +mirthless laugh.</p> +<p>In the utter selfishness that his fear had engendered, it seemed +a monstrous thing to Langham that any one should wish to clear +North, in whose conviction lay his own salvation. More than this, +he had every reason to hate North, and if he were hanged it would +be but a roundabout meting out of justice for that hideous wrong he +had done him, the shame of which was ever present. He saw one other +thing clearly, the necessity that Gilmore should be left alone; for +the very moment the gambler felt the judge was moving against him, +that moment would come his fierce demands that he be called +off—that Marshall quiet him, no matter how.</p> +<p>"Have you been near North since his arrest?" asked the judge, +apparently speaking at random.</p> +<p>"No," said Marshall.</p> +<p>"May I ask if you are offended because of his choice of +counsel?"</p> +<p>"That has nothing to do with it!" said the younger man, moving +impatiently in his chair.</p> +<p>"I do not like your attitude in this matter, Marshall; I like it +as little as I understand it. But I have given my warning. Keep +clear of that fellow Gilmore, do not involve yourself in his +fortunes, or the result may prove disastrous to you!"</p> +<p>"I want him let alone!" said Marshall doggedly, speaking with +desperate resolution.</p> +<p>"Why?" asked the judge.</p> +<p>"Because it is better for all concerned; you—you don't +know what you're meddling with—"</p> +<p>He quitted his chair and fell to pacing to and fro. His father's +glance, uncertain and uneasy, followed him as he crossed and +recrossed the room.</p> +<p>"I find I can not agree with you, Marshall!" said the judge at +length. "I do not like hints, and unless you can deal with me with +greater frankness than you have yet done, there is not much use in +prolonging this discussion."</p> +<p>"As you like, then," replied Marshall, wheeling on him with +sudden recklessness. "I want to tell you just this—you'll not +hurt Gilmore, but—"</p> +<p>Words failed him, and his voice died away on his white and +twitching lips into an inarticulate murmur.</p> +<p>He struggled vainly to recover the mastery of himself, but his +fear, now the growth of his many days and nights of torture, would +not let him finish what he had started to say.</p> +<p>"Very good, I don't want to hurt anybody, but I do want to find +that man, whoever he is, that you and Gilmore are shielding; the +man Joe Montgomery saw cross those sheds the night of the murder; I +am going to bend my every energy to learning who that man is, and +when I have discovered his identity—"</p> +<p>"You'll want to see him in North's place, will you?" asked +Marshall. The words came from him in a hoarse whisper and his arm +was extended threateningly toward his father. "You're sure about +that? You can't conceive of the possibility that you'd be glad not +to know? You want to have John North out of his cell and this other +man there in his place; you want to face him day after day in the +court room—you're sure?" His shaking arm continued to menace +the judge. "Well, you don't need to find Montgomery, and you don't +need to hound Gilmore; I can tell you more than they +can—"</p> +<p>His bloodshot eyes, fixed and staring, seemed starting from +their sockets.</p> +<p>"The facts you want to know are hidden here!" He struck his hand +savagely against his breast and lurched half-way across the room, +then he swung about and once more faced the judge. "Why haven't you +had the wisdom to keep out of this,—or have you expected to +find some one it would be easier to pronounce sentence on than +North? Did you think it would be Gilmore?"</p> +<p>He scowled down on his father. It was appalling and unnatural, +after all his frightful suffering, his fear, and his remorse which +never left him, that his safety should be jeopardized by his own +father! He had only asked that the law be left to deal with John +North, who, he believed, had so wronged him that no death he could +die would atone for the injury he had done.</p> +<p>Slowly but inexorably the full significance of Marshall's words +dawned on the judge. He had risen from his chair dumb and +terror-stricken. For a moment they stood without speech, each +staring into the other's face. Presently the judge stole to +Marshall's side.</p> +<p>"Tell me that I misunderstand you!" he whispered in entreaty, +resting a tremulous hand on his son's arm.</p> +<p>But the latter was bitterly resentful. His father had forced +this confession, from him, he had given him no choice!</p> +<p>"Why should I tell you that now?" he asked, as he roughly shook +off his father's hand.</p> +<p>"Tell me I misunderstand you!" repeated the judge, in a tone of +abject entreaty.</p> +<p>"It's too late!" said Marshall, his voice a mere whisper between +parched lips. He tossed up his arms in a gesture that betokened his +utter weariness of soul. "My God, how I've suffered!" he said +chokingly, and his eyes were wet with the sudden anguish of +self-pity.</p> +<p>"Marshall!"</p> +<p>The judge spoke in protest of his words. Marshall turned +abruptly from him and crossed the room. The spirit of his fierce +resentment was dying within him, for, after all, what did it +signify how his father learned his secret!</p> +<p>From the parlor there still came the strains of light music; +these and Marshall's echoing tread as he strode to and fro, filled +in the ghastly silence that succeeded. Then at length he paused +before his father, and once more they looked deep into each other's +eyes, and the little space between was for both as an open grave +filled with dead things—hopes, ambitions, future days and +months and years—days and months and years when they should +be for ever mindful of his crime! For henceforth they were to dwell +in the chill of this direful shadow that would tower above all the +concerns of life whether great or small; that would add despair to +every sorrow, and take the very soul and substance from every +joy.</p> +<p>The judge dropped into his chair, but his wavering glance still +searched his son's face for some sign that should tell him, not +what he already knew but what he hoped might be,—that +Marshall was either drunk or crazed; but he only saw there the +reflection of his own terror. He buried his head in his hands and +bitter age-worn sobs shook his bent shoulders. After a moment of +sullen waiting for him to recover, Marshall approached and touched +him on the arm.</p> +<p>"Father—" he whispered gently.</p> +<p>The judge glanced up.</p> +<p>"It's a lie, Marshall!"</p> +<p>But Marshall only stared at him until the judge again covered +his face with his hands.</p> +<p>When he glanced up a few moments later, he found himself alone. +Marshall had stolen from the room.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_NINETEEN" id="CHAPTER_NINETEEN"></a>CHAPTER +NINETEEN</h2> +<h3>SHRIMPLIN TO THE RESCUE</h3> +<p>Beyond the flats and the railroad tracks and over across the new +high, iron bridge, was a low-lying region much affected by the +drivers of dump-carts, whose activity was visibly attested by the +cinders, the ashes, the tin cans, the staved-in barrels and the +lidless boxes that everywhere met the eye.</p> +<p>On the verge of this waste, which civilization had builded and +shaped with its discarded odds and ends, were the meager beginnings +of a poor suburb. Here an enterprising landlord had erected a +solitary row of slab-sided dwellings of a uniform ugliness; and had +given to each a single coat of yellow paint of such exceeding +thinness, that it was possible to determine by the whiter daubs of +putty showing through, just where every nail had been driven.</p> +<p>Only the very poorest or the most shiftless of Mount Hope's +population found a refuge in this quarter. The Montgomerys being +strictly eligible, it was but natural that Joe should have taken up +his abode here on the day the first of the eight houses had been +finished. Joe was burdened by no troublesome convictions touching +the advantages of a gravelly soil or a southern exposure, and the +word sanitation had it been spoken in his presence would have +conveyed no meaning to his mind. He had never heard of germs, and +he had as little prejudice concerning stagnant water as he had +predilection for clear water. He knew in a general way that all +water was wet, but further than this he gave the element no +thought.</p> +<p>Thus it came about that his was the very oldest family seated in +this delectable spot. The young Montgomerys could with perfect +propriety claim precedence at all the stagnant pools that offered +superior advantages as yielding a rich harvest of tadpoles. While +the mature intelligence might have considered these miniature lakes +as highly undesirable, the young Montgomerys were not unmindful of +their blessings. As babies, clothed in shapeless garments, they +launched upon the green slime their tiny fleet of chips, and, grown +a little older, it was here they waded in the happy summer days. +The very dump-carts came and went like perpetual argosies, bringing +riches—discarded furniture and cast-off clothing—to +their very door.</p> +<p>In merciful defiance of those hidden perils that lurk where +sanitation and hygiene are unpractised sciences, Joe's numerous +family throve and multiplied. The baby carriage which had held his +firstborn,—Arthur, now aged fourteen,—was still in use, +the luster of its paint much dimmed and its upholstery but a +memory. It had trundled a succession of little Montgomerys among +the cinder piles; indeed, it was almost a feature of the landscape, +for Joe's family was his chiefest contribution to the wealth of his +country.</p> +<p>There had been periods varying from a few days to a few weeks +when the Montgomerys were sole tenants of that row of slab-sided +houses; their poverty being a fixed condition, they were merely +sometimes poorer. No transient gleam of a larger prosperity had +ever illuminated the horizon of their lives, and they had never +been tempted to move to other parts of the town where the ground +and the rents were higher.</p> +<p>Residents of this locality, not being burdened with any means of +locomotion beyond their own legs, usually came and went by way of +the high iron bridge; their legal right of way however was by a +neglected thoroughfare that had ambitiously set out to be a street, +but having failed of its intention, presently dwindled to a +pleasant country road which not far beyond crossed the river by the +old wooden bridge below the depot.</p> +<p>It was the iron bridge which Mrs. Montgomery, escorted by the +daring Shrimplin, had crossed that fateful night of her interview +with Judge Langham, and it was toward it that her glance was turned +for many days after in the hope that she might see Joe's bulk of +bone and muscle as he slouched in the direction of the home and +family he had so wanted only forsaken. But a veil of mystery +obscured every fact that bore on the handy-man's disappearance; no +eye penetrated it, no hand lifted it.</p> +<p>Soon after Montgomery's disappearance his deserted wife fell +upon evil times indeed. In spite of her bravest efforts the rent +fell hopelessly in arrears. For a time her pride kept her away from +the Shrimplins, who might have helped her. To go to the little +lamplighter's was to hear bitter truths about her husband; Mr. +Shrimplin's denunciations were especially fierce and scathing, for +here he felt that righteousness was all on his side and that in +abusing the absconding Joe he was performing a moral act.</p> +<p>But at last Nellie's fortunes reached a crisis. An obdurate +landlord set her few poor belongings in the gutter. Even in the +most prosperous days their roof-tree had flourished but +precariously and now it was down and level with the dust; seeing +which Mrs. Montgomery placed her youngest in the ancient vehicle +which had trundled all that generation of Montgomerys, drew her +apron before her eyes and wept. But quickly rallying to the need +for immediate action she swallowed her pride and sent Arthur in +quest of his uncle, who was well fitted by sobriety, industry and +thrift, to cope with such a crisis.</p> +<p>Mr. Shrimplin's only weaknesses were such as spring from an +eager childlike vanity, and a nature as shy as a fawn's of whatever +held even a suggestion of danger. To Custer he could brag of crimes +he had never committed, but an unpaid butcher's bill would have +robbed him of his sleep; also he wore a very tender heart in his +narrow chest, though he did his best to hide it by assuming a bold +and hardy air and by garnishing his conversation with what he +counted the very flower of a brutal worldly cynicism.</p> +<p>Thus it was that when Arthur had found his uncle and had stated +his case, Mr. Shrimplin instantly summoned to his aid all his +redoubtable powers of speech and fell to cursing the recreant +husband and father. Having eased himself in this manner, and not +wishing Arthur to be entirely unmindful of his vast superiority, he +called the boy's attention to the undeniable fact that he, +Shrimplin, could have been kicked out of doors and Joe Montgomery +would not have lifted a hand to save him. Yet all this while the +little lamplighter, with the boy at his heels, was moving rapidly +across the flats.</p> +<p>From the town end of the bridge, youthful eyes had descried his +coming and the word was quickly passed that the uncle of all the +little Montgomerys was approaching, presumably with philanthropic +intent. This rumor instantly stimulated an interest on the part of +the adult population, an interest which had somewhat languished +owing to the incapacity of human nature to sustain an emotional +climax for any considerable length of time. Untidy women and +idle-looking men with the rust of inaction consuming them, quickly +appeared on the scene, and when the little lamplighter descended +from the railway tracks it was to be greeted with something like an +ovation at the hands of his sister-in-law's neighbors.</p> +<p>His ears caught the murmur of approval that passed from lip to +lip and out of the very tail of his bleached eyes he noted the +expression of satisfaction that was on every face. Even the +previously obdurate landlord met him with words of apology and +conciliation. It was a happy moment for Mr. Shrimplin, but not by +so much as the flicker of an eyelash did he betray that this was +so. He had considered himself such a public character since the +night of the McBride murder that he now deemed it incumbent to +preserve a stoic manner; the admiration of his fellows could win +nothing from the sternness of his nature, so he ignored the +neighbors, while he was barely civil to the landlord. The big roll +of bills which, with something of a flourish, he produced from the +pocket of his greasy overalls, settled the rent, and the neighbors +noted with bated breath that the size of this roll was not +perceptibly diminished by the transaction.</p> +<p>Presently Mr. Shrimplin found himself standing alone with +Nellie; the landlord had departed with his money, while the +neighbors, having devoted the greater part of the day to a +sympathetic interest in Mrs. Montgomery's fortunes, now had leisure +for their own affairs.</p> +<p>"Why didn't you send for me sooner?" demanded the little man +with some asperity. "No sense in having your things put out like +this when you only got to put them back again!"</p> +<p>"If Joe was only here this would never have happened!" said Mrs. +Montgomery, giving way to copious tears.</p> +<p>But Mr. Shrimplin seemed not so sure of this. The settling of +the handy-man's difficulties had been one of the few extravagances +he had permitted himself. His glance now fell on the small occupant +of the decrepit baby carriage, and he gave a start of +astonishment.</p> +<p>"Lord!" he ejaculated, pointing to the child. "You don't mean to +tell me that's yours, too?"</p> +<p>"Three weeks next Sunday," said Mrs. Montgomery.</p> +<p>"Another one,—well, I don't wonder you've kept still about +it! What's the use of bringing children into the world when you +can't half take care of 'em?"</p> +<p>"I didn't keep still about it,—only I had so much to worry +me!" said Nellie, with a shadowy sort of resentment at the little +lamplighter's words and manner.</p> +<p>"It's a nice-looking baby!" admitted Mr. Shrimplin, +relenting.</p> +<p>"It's a boy, see—he's got his father's eyes and +nose—"</p> +<p>"I don't know about the eyes, but the nose is a durn sight +whiter than Joe's! Maybe, though, when it's Joe's age it will use +the same brand of paint."</p> +<p>"What you got it in for Joe for? He never done nothing to you!" +said Joe's wife, with palpable offense.</p> +<p>"He ought to be stood up and lammed over the head with a club!" +observed Mr. Shrimplin, with considerable acrimony of tone. "You'd +have thought that being a witness would have made a man out of Joe +if anything would,—and how does he act? Why, he lights out; +he gets to be good for something beside soaking up whisky and +spoiling his insides, and he skips the town; now if that ain't a +devil of a way for him to act, I'd like to know what you call +it!"</p> +<p>"He was a good man—" declared Mrs. Montgomery with +conviction. "A good man, but unfortunate!"</p> +<p>"Well, if he suits you, Nellie—"</p> +<p>"He does!"</p> +<p>"I'm glad of it," retorted Mr. Shrimplin, taking a chew of +tobacco. "For I don't reckon he'd ever suit any one else!"</p> +<p>"You and none of my family never liked Joe!" said Mrs. +Montgomery.</p> +<p>"Well, why should we?" demanded Mr. Shrimplin impatiently.</p> +<p>"Your wife,—my own sister, too,—said he should never +darken her door, and he was that proud he never did! You couldn't +have dragged him there!" said Mrs. Montgomery, and the ready tears +dimmed her eyes.</p> +<p>"And you couldn't have dragged him away quick enough if he had +a-come! Now don't you get tearful over Joe, you can't call him no +prodigal; his veal's tough old beef by this time! But I never had +nothing in particular against him more than I thought he ought to +be kicked clean off the face of the earth!" said Mr. Shrimplin, +rolling his drooping flaxen mustache fiercely between his stubby +thumb and its neighboring forefinger.</p> +<p>Such personal relations as the little lamplighter had sustained +with the handy-man had invariably been of the most friendly and +pacific description. Esteeming Joe a gentleman of uncertain habits, +and of criminal instincts that might at any moment be translated +into vigorous action, Mr. Shrimplin had always been at much pains +to placate him. In the heat of the moment, however, all this was +forgotten, and Mr. Shrimplin's love of decency and rectitude +promptly asserted itself.</p> +<p>"It's easy enough to pick flaws in a popular good-looking man +like Joe!" said Mrs. Montgomery, with whom time and absence had +been at work, also, and to such an extent that the first dim glint +of a halo was beginning to fix itself about the curly red head of +her delinquent spouse.</p> +<p>"And a whole lot of good them good looks of his has done you, +Nellie," rejoined Mr. Shrimplin, with a little cackle of mirth.</p> +<p>"He never even seen his youngest!" said Mrs. Montgomery, giving +completely away to tears at this moving thought of the handy-man's +deprivation.</p> +<p>"I reckon he could even stand that," observed Mr. Shrimplin +unfeelingly. "I bet he never knowed 'em apart."</p> +<p>"Why he was just wrapped up in them and me,—just wrapped +up!" cried Mrs. Montgomery.</p> +<p>"Well, he had a blame curious way of showing it; no one would +ever have suspected it of him!" said Mr. Shrimplin.</p> +<p>"I guess this wouldn't have happened if his own folks had had +more faith in Joe, that's what wore on him,—I seen it wear on +him!" declared Mrs. Montgomery, in a tone of melancholy +conviction.</p> +<p>"In the main I'm a truthful man, Nellie,—I wish to be +anyhow; and I'll tell you honest I was never able to see much in +Joe aside from his good looks, which I know he had, now that you +call them to mind. No,—I think a coat of tar and feathers +would be about the thing for Joe; he's the sort of bird to wear +that kind of plumage. My opinion is that you've seen the last of +him; no sense in your thinking otherwise, because you're just +leaving yourself open to disappointment!"</p> +<p>Yet Mr. Shrimplin remained to reinstate Mrs. Montgomery in her +home. It was his expert hands that set up the cracked and rusted +kitchen stove, and arranged the scanty and battered furniture in +the several rooms. Nor was he satisfied to do merely this, for he +presently despatched Arthur into town after an excellent assortment +of groceries. All the while, however, he neglected no opportunity +to elaborate for Nellie's benefit his opinions concerning the +handy-man's utter worthlessness. At length this good Samaritan +paused from his labors, and regaling himself with a fresh chew of +tobacco and a parting gibe at Joe, set briskly off for his own +home.</p> +<p>The street lamps demanded his immediate attention, and it was +not until his day's work was finished that he found opportunity to +tell Mrs. Shrimplin of these straits to which Nellie had been +reduced. He concluded by reiterating his opinion that her sister +had seen the last of Joe.</p> +<p>"I don't know why you say that!" was Mrs. Shrimplin's unexpected +rejoinder.</p> +<p>"Ain't I got mighty good reason to say it?" asked her husband. +"Don't you know, and ain't every one always said Joe was just too +low to live? I'd like to know if it wasn't you said he should never +set his foot inside your door?"</p> +<p>"I might say it again, and then I mightn't," rejoined Mrs. +Shrimplin, with aggravating composure.</p> +<p>Two days later when the Shrimplins were at breakfast Mrs. +Montgomery walked in on them. Her face was streaked with the traces +of recent tears, but there was the light of happy vindication in +her eyes, and a soiled and crumpled letter in her hand.</p> +<p>"Mercy, Nellie!" exclaimed her sister. "What's the matter +now?"</p> +<p>"Matter? Why, I'm so happy I just don't know what to do! I've +heard from my Joe!"</p> +<p>Mrs. Shrimplin rested her hands on her hips and surveyed Nellie +with eyes that seemed to hold pity and contempt in about equal +proportion.</p> +<p>"You've heard from Joe! Well, if he was my husband he'd have +heard from me long ago!" she said.</p> +<p>And it occurred to Mr. Shrimplin that his wife was wonderfully +consistent in her inconsistencies.</p> +<p>"Well, and what have <i>you</i> got against Joe?" demanded Mrs. +Montgomery with ready anger.</p> +<p>"She ain't got nothing new, Nellie!" said Mr. Shrimplin, +desirous of preserving the peace.</p> +<p>"Well, she's mighty quick to misjudge him! Look!" and she drew +from the envelope she held in her hand a dirty greenback. "He's +sent me twenty dollars—my man has! Does that look like he'd +forgotten me or his children?" protested Nellie, in a voice of +happy triumph.</p> +<p>"I'll bet it's counterfeit; I'd go slow on trying to pass it," +said Mr. Shrimplin when he had somewhat recovered from the shock of +the sudden announcement.</p> +<p>It was plain that Nellie had never thought of any such +possibility as this, for the light died out of her eyes.</p> +<p>"How can I find out whether it's good or not?" she faltered.</p> +<p>"Let me look at it!" said Mr. Shrimplin.</p> +<p>Mrs. Montgomery placed the bill in his hands. Her face was keen +and pinched with anxiety as she awaited the little man's +verdict.</p> +<p>"It's genu-ine all right," he at length admitted grudgingly.</p> +<p>"I knew it was!" cried Nellie, her miserable suspicions put at +rest.</p> +<p>"Well, you'd better spend it quick and get some good of it +before old Joe comes back and wants the change!" advised Mr. +Shrimplin.</p> +<p>"What does he say?" questioned Mrs. Shrimplin.</p> +<p>"He don't say a word, there was nothing but the bill."</p> +<p>"Well, maybe it wasn't Joe sent it after all!" said the little +lamplighter.</p> +<p>"The writing on the envelope's his, I'd know it anywhere. I +guess he couldn't trust himself to write; but he'll come back, my +man will! Maybe he's on his way now!" exclaimed Nellie.</p> +<p>"Ain't there no postmark?" asked Mrs. Shrimplin.</p> +<p>"Why, I never thought to look!"</p> +<p>But Nellie's face fell when she did look.</p> +<p>"It was mailed at Denver!" she said, in an awe-struck voice.</p> +<p>Her man seemed at the very ends of the earth, and his return +became a doubtful thing.</p> +<p>"Well, I wouldn't talk about this to the police or anybody; they +ain't been able to find Joe, and I wouldn't be the one to tell them +where he's at!" advised Mr. Shrimplin.</p> +<p>"They've stopped coming to the house," said Nellie.</p> +<p>But she looked inquiringly at Mr. Shrimplin. Where the police +were concerned she had faith in his masculine understanding; Joe +had always seemed to know a great deal about the police, she +remembered.</p> +<p>"I reckon old Joe had his own reasons for skipping out, and they +must have looked good to him. No, I can't see that you are bound to +help the police; the police ain't helped you." And Mr. Shrimplin +returned to the scrutiny of the bill in his hand.</p> +<p>That was the profound mystery. No one knew better than he that +Joe was not given to such prodigal generosity; neither were +twenty-dollar bills frequent with him.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_TWENTY" id="CHAPTER_TWENTY"></a>CHAPTER +TWENTY</h2> +<h3>THE CAT AND THE MOUSE</h3> +<p>Mr. Gilmore, having yielded once again to temptation, found +himself at Marshall Langham's door. He asked for the lawyer, but +was informed he was not at home, a fact of which Mr. Gilmore was +perfectly well aware, since he had parted from him not twenty +minutes before at the court-house steps. Mrs. Langham was at home, +however, and at this welcome information the gambler, smiling, +strode into the hall.</p> +<p>From the parlor, Evelyn heard his voice. She had found him +amusing in the first days of their acquaintance, and possibly she +might again find him diverting, but this afternoon he had chosen +ill for his call. She was quite sure she detested him. For the +first time she measured him by standards of which he could know +nothing, and found no good thing in him. What had Marsh meant when +he forced this most undesirable acquaintance on her!</p> +<p>"You wanted to see Marsh?" she asked, as she gave him her +hand.</p> +<p>"That will keep," said Gilmore cheerfully. "May I stay?" he +added.</p> +<p>"If you wish," she answered indifferently.</p> +<p>She felt a sense of shame at his presence there. Everything +about her seemed to sink to his level, which was a very low level, +she was sure. These afternoon calls were a recent feature of their +intimacy. Before Gilmore came, she had been thinking for the +hundredth time of John North—the man she had once loved and +now hated, but in whose honor she had such confidence that she knew +he would face death rather than compromise her. In spite of the +fact that he had scorned her, had thrown her aside for another, she +had had on his account many a soul-rending struggle with her +conscience, with her better self. She knew that a word from her, +and his prison doors would open to a free world. Time and again +this word had trembled on her lips unuttered. She knew also that it +was not hate of North that kept her silent. It was an intangible, +unformed, unthoughtout fear of what might follow after. North, she +knew, was innocent; who then was guilty? She closed her eyes and +shut her lips. That North would ultimately clear himself she never +seriously doubted, and yet the burden of her secret was +intolerable. In her present mood, she was accessible to every +passing influence, and to-day it was Gilmore's fate to find her +both penitent and rebellious, but he could not know this, he only +knew that she was quieter than usual.</p> +<p>He seated himself at her side, and his eyes, eager and animated, +fed on her beauty. He had come to the belief that only the lightest +barriers stood between himself and Evelyn Langham, and it was a +question in his mind of just how much he would be willing to +sacrifice for her sake. He boasted nothing in the way of position +or reputation, and no act of his could possibly add to the disfavor +in which he was already held; but to leave Mount Hope meant certain +definite financial losses; this had served as a check on his ardor, +for where money was concerned Gilmore was cautious. But his passion +was coming to be the supreme thing in his life; a fortunate chance +had placed him where he now stood in relation to her, and chance +again, as unkind as it had been kind, might separate them. The set +of Gilmore's heavy jaws became tense with this thought and with the +ruthless strength of his purpose. He would shake down one sensation +for Mount Hope before he got away,—and he would not go +alone.</p> +<p>"I suppose you were at the trial to-day?" Evelyn said.</p> +<p>"Yes, I was there for a little while this afternoon," he +answered. "It's rather tame yet, they're still fussing over the +jury."</p> +<p>"How is Jack bearing it?" she asked.</p> +<p>Her question seemed to depress Gilmore.</p> +<p>"Why do you care about how he takes it? I don't suppose he sees +any fun in it,—he didn't look to me as if he did," he said +slowly.</p> +<p>"But how did he <i>seem</i> to you?"</p> +<p>"Oh, he's got nerve enough, if that's what you mean!"</p> +<p>"Poor Jack!" she murmured softly.</p> +<p>"If you're curious, why don't you go take a look at poor Jack? +He'll be there all right for the next few weeks," said the gambler, +watching her narrowly.</p> +<p>"I'm afraid Marsh might object."</p> +<p>At this Gilmore threw back his head and laughed.</p> +<p>"Excuse <i>me</i>!" he said; and in explanation of his sudden +mirth, he added: "The idea of your trotting out Marsh to me!"</p> +<p>"I'm not trotting him out to you,—as you call it," Evelyn +said quietly, but her small foot tapped the floor. She intended +presently to rid herself of Gilmore for all time.</p> +<p>"Yes, but I was afraid you were going to."</p> +<p>"You mustn't speak to me as you do; I have done nothing to give +you the privilege."</p> +<p>Gilmore did not seem at all abashed at this reproof.</p> +<p>"If you want to go to the trial I'll take you, and I'll agree to +make it all right with Marsh afterward; what do you say?" he +asked.</p> +<p>Evelyn smiled brightly, but she did not explain to him the utter +impossibility of their appearing in public together either at the +North trial or anywhere else for the matter of that; there were +bounds set even to her reckless disregard of what Mount Hope held +to be right and proper.</p> +<p>"Oh, no, you're very kind, but I don't think I should care to +see poor Jack now."</p> +<p>She gave a little shiver of horror as if at the mere idea. This +was for the gambler, but her real feeling was far deeper than he, +suspicious as he was, could possibly know.</p> +<p>"Why do you 'poor Jack' him to me?" said Gilmore sullenly.</p> +<p>Evelyn opened her fine eyes in apparent astonishment.</p> +<p>"He is one of my oldest friends. I have known him all my life!" +she said.</p> +<p>"Well, one's friends should keep out of the sort of trouble he's +made for himself," observed Gilmore in surly tones.</p> +<p>"Yes,—perhaps—" answered Evelyn absently.</p> +<p>"Look here, I don't want to talk to you about North anyhow; +can't we hit on some other topic?" asked Gilmore.</p> +<p>It maddened him even to think of the part the accused man had +played in her life.</p> +<p>"Why have you and Marsh turned against him?" she asked.</p> +<p>The gambler considered for an instant.</p> +<p>"Do you really want to know? Well, you see he wasn't square; +that does a man up quicker than anything else."</p> +<p>"I don't believe it!" she cried.</p> +<p>"It's so,—ask Marsh; we found him to be an all-right +crook; then's when we quit him," he said, nodding and smiling +grimly.</p> +<p>There was something in his manner which warned her that his real +meaning was intentionally obscured. She remembered that Marsh had +once boasted of having proof that she was in North's rooms the +afternoon of the murder and it flashed across her mind that if any +one really knew of her presence there it was Gilmore himself. She +studied him furtively, and she observed that his black waxed +mustache shaded a pair of lips that wore a mirthless smile, and +what had at first been no more than an undefined suspicion grew +into a certainty. Gilmore shifted uneasily in his chair. He felt +that since their last meeting he had lost ground with her.</p> +<p>"What's the matter,—why do you keep me at arm's length; +what have I done, anyhow?" he asked impatiently.</p> +<p>"Do I keep you at arm's length? Well, perhaps you need to be +kept there," she said.</p> +<p>"You should know what brings me here,—why it is I can't +keep away—"</p> +<p>"How should I know, unless you tell me?" she said softly.</p> +<p>Gilmore bent toward her, his eyes lustrous with suppressed +feeling.</p> +<p>"Isn't that another of your little jokes, Evelyn? Do you really +want me to tell you?"</p> +<p>"I am dying with curiosity!"</p> +<p>Voice and manner seemed to encourage, and the gambler felt his +heart leap within him.</p> +<p>"Well, I guess it's principally to see you!" he muttered, but +his lips quivered with emotion.</p> +<p>She laughed.</p> +<p>"Just see how mistaken one may be, Andy; I thought all along it +was Marsh!"</p> +<p>At her use of his Christian name his heavy face became radiant. +His purposes were usually allied to an admirable directness of +speech that never left one long in doubt as to his full +meaning.</p> +<p>"Look here, aren't you about sick of Marsh?" he asked. "How long +are you going to stand for this sort of thing? You have a right to +expect something better than he has to offer you!"</p> +<p>She met the glance of his burning black eyes with undisturbed +serenity, but a cruel smile had come again to the corners of her +mouth. She was preparing to settle her score with Gilmore in a +fashion he would not soon forget. One of her hands rested on the +arm of her chair, and the gambler's ringed fingers closed about it; +but apparently she was unaware of this; at least she did not seek +to withdraw it.</p> +<p>"By God, you're pretty!" he cried.</p> +<p>"What do you mean?" she asked quietly.</p> +<p>"Mean,—don't you know that I love you? Have I got to make +it plain that I care for you,—that you are everything to me?" +he asked, bending toward her.</p> +<p>"So you care a great deal about me, do you, Andy?" she asked +slowly.</p> +<p>"I like to hear you call me that!" he said with a deep +breath.</p> +<p>"What is it, Andy—what do you want?" she continued.</p> +<p>"You—you!" he said hoarsely; his face was white, he had +come to the end of long days of hope and doubt; he had battered +down every obstacle that stood in his path and he was telling her +of his love, nor did she seem unwilling to hear him. "You are the +whole thing to me! I have loved you always—ever since I first +saw you! Tell me you'll quit this place with me—I swear I'll +make you happy—"</p> +<p>His face was very close to hers, and guessing his purpose she +snatched away her hand. Then she laughed.</p> +<p>As the sound of her merriment fell on Gilmore's startled ears, +there swiftly came to him the consciousness that something was +wrong.</p> +<p>"You and your love-making are very funny, Mr. Gilmore; but there +is one thing you don't seem to understand. There is such a thing as +taste in selection even when it has ceased to be a matter of +morals. I don't like you, Mr. Gilmore. You amused me, but you are +merely tiresome now."</p> +<p>She spoke with deliberate contempt, and his face turned white +and then scarlet, as if under the sting of a lash.</p> +<p>"If you were a man—" he began, infuriated by the insolence +of her speech.</p> +<p>"If I were a man I should be quite able to take care of myself. +Understand, I am seeing you for the last time—"</p> +<p>"Yes, by God, you are!" he cried.</p> +<p>His face was ashen. He had come to his feet, shaken and +uncertain. It was as if each word of hers had been a stab.</p> +<p>"I am glad we can agree so perfectly on that point. Will you +kindly close the hail door as you go out?"</p> +<p>She turned from him and took up a book from the table at her +elbow. Gilmore moved toward the door, but paused irresolutely. His +first feeling of furious rage was now tempered by a sense of coming +loss. This was to be the end; he was never to see her again! He +swung about on his heel. She was already turning the leaves of her +book, apparently oblivious of his presence.</p> +<p>"Am I to believe you—" he faltered.</p> +<p>She looked up and her eyes met his. There was nothing in her +glance to indicate that she comprehended the depth of his +suffering.</p> +<p>"Yes," she said, with a drawing in of her full lips.</p> +<p>"When I leave you—if you really mean that—it will be +to leave Mount Hope!" said he appealingly.</p> +<p>The savage vigor that was normally his had deserted him, his +very pride was gone; a sudden mistrust of himself was humbling him; +he felt wretchedly out of place; he was even dimly conscious of his +own baseness while he was for the moment blinded to the cruelty of +her conduct. Under his breath he cursed himself. By his too great +haste, by a too great frankness he had fooled away his chances with +her.</p> +<p>"That is more than I dared hope," Evelyn rejoined +composedly.</p> +<p>"If I've offended you—" began Gilmore.</p> +<p>"Your presence offends me," she interrupted and looked past him +to the door.</p> +<p>"You don't mean what you say—Evelyn—" he said +earnestly.</p> +<p>"My cook might have been flattered by your proposal; but why you +should have thought I would be, is utterly incomprehensible."</p> +<p>Gilmore's face became livid on the instant. A storm of abuse +rushed to his lips but he held himself in check. Then without a +word or a glance he passed from the room.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_TWENTY_ONE" id= +"CHAPTER_TWENTY_ONE"></a>CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE</h2> +<h3>THE HOUSE OF CARDS</h3> +<p>The long day had been devoted to the choosing of the twelve men +who should say whether John North was innocent or guilty, but at +last court adjourned and Marshall Langham, pushing through the +crowd that was emptying itself into the street, turned away in the +direction of his home.</p> +<p>For no single instant during the day had he been able to take +his eyes from his father's face. He had heard almost nothing of +what was said, it was only when the coldly impersonal tones of the +judge's voice reached him out of, what was to him silence, that he +was stung to a full comprehension of what was going on about him. +The faces of the crowd had blended until they were as +indistinguishable as the face of humanity itself. For him there had +been but the one tragic presence in that dingy room; and +now—as the dull gray winter twilight enveloped +him,—wherever he turned his eyes, on the snow-covered +pavement, in the bare branches of the trees,—there he saw, +endlessly repeated, the white drawn face of his father.</p> +<p>His capacity for endurance seemed to measure itself against the +slow days. A week—two weeks—and the trial would end, +but how? If the verdict was guilty, North's friends would still +continue their fight for his life. He must sustain himself beyond +what he felt to be the utmost limit of his powers; and always, day +after day, there would be that face with its sunken eyes and +bloodless lips, to summon him into its presence.</p> +<p>He found himself at his own door, and paused uncertainly. He +passed a tremulous hand before his eyes. Was he sure of +Gilmore,—was he sure of Evelyn, who must know that North was +innocent? The thought of her roused in him all his bitter sense of +hurt and injury. North had trampled on his confidence and +friendship! The lines of his face grew hard. This was to be his +revenge,—his by every right, and his fears should rob him of +no part of it!</p> +<p>He pushed open the door and entered the unlighted hail, then +with a grumbled oath because of the darkness, passed on into the +sitting-room. Except for such light as a bed of soft coal in the +grate gave out, the room was clothed in uncertainty. He stumbled +against a chair and swore again savagely. He was answered by a soft +laugh, and then he saw Evelyn seated in the big arm-chair at one +side of the fireplace.</p> +<p>"Did you hurt yourself, Marsh?" she asked.</p> +<p>Langham growled an unintelligible reply and dropped heavily into +a chair. He brought with him the fumes of whisky and stale tobacco, +and as these reached her across the intervening space Evelyn made a +little grimace in the half light.</p> +<p>"I declare, Marsh, you are hardly fit to enter a respectable +house!" she said.</p> +<p>In spite of his doubt of her, they were not on the worst of +terms, there were still times when he resumed his old role of the +lover, when he held her drifting fancy in something of the potent +spell he had once been able to weave about her. Whatever their life +together, it was far from commonplace, with its poverty and +extravagance, its quarrelings and its reconciliations, while back +of it all, deep-rooted in the very dregs of existence, was his +passionate love. Even his brutal indifference was but one of the +many phases of his love; it was a manifestation of his revolt +against his sense of dependence, a dependence which made it +possible for him to love where his faith was destroyed and his +trust gone absolutely. Evelyn was vaguely conscious of this and she +was not sure but that she required just such a life as theirs had +become, but that she would have been infinitely bored with a man +far more worth while than Marshall Langham. From his seat by the +fire Langham scowled across at her, but the scowl was lost in the +darkness.</p> +<p>"Your father was here last evening, Marsh," Evelyn said at +length, remembering she had not seen him the night before, and that +he had breakfasted and gone before she was up that morning.</p> +<p>"What did he come for?" her husband asked.</p> +<p>"I think to see you. Poor man, he doesn't seem able to get the +run of the hours you keep; I told him he could always find you here +between four and eight in the morning. I must say this little +insight into your domestic habits appeared to distress him, but I +tried to comfort him,—I told him you would probably outlive +us all." She laughed softly. "Andy was here this afternoon, Marsh," +she went on.</p> +<p>"What the devil did he want?"</p> +<p>"I don't know."</p> +<p>"Is he coming back?"</p> +<p>"He didn't mention it, if he is." And again she laughed.</p> +<p>Langham moved impatiently; her low full-throated mirth jarred on +his somber mood.</p> +<p>"Were you in court to-day, Marsh?" she inquired, after a short +silence.</p> +<p>"Yes," he answered briefly.</p> +<p>"Were there many there?"</p> +<p>"Yes."</p> +<p>"Any ladies, Marsh?" she questioned, with sudden eagerness.</p> +<p>"If you can call them that," he growled.</p> +<p>"Do you know, Marsh, I had a strong impulse to go, too. Would +you have been astonished to see me there?" she asked +tentatively.</p> +<p>"We won't have any of that,—do you understand?" he said +with fierce authority.</p> +<p>"Why not? It's as right for me as it is for any one else, isn't +it?"</p> +<p>"I won't <i>have</i> it!" he said, lifting his voice +slightly.</p> +<p>She had risen and now stood leaning against the arm of his +chair.</p> +<p>"Marsh, he didn't kill McBride; he couldn't,—he wouldn't +harm a mouse!"</p> +<p>Her words set him raging.</p> +<p>"Keep quiet, will you,—what do you know about it, anyhow?" +he cried with sullen ferocity.</p> +<p>"Don't be rude, Marsh! So you don't want me to come to the +trial,—you tell me I can't?"</p> +<p>"Did my father say anything about this matter,—the trial, +I mean?" asked Langham haltingly.</p> +<p>"Yes, I think he spoke of it, but I really wasn't interested +because you see I am so sure John North is innocent!"</p> +<p>He caught one of her hands in his and drew her down on the arm +of his chair where he could look into her eyes.</p> +<p>"There is just one question I want to ask you, Evelyn, but I +expect you'll answer it as you choose," he said, with his face +close to hers.</p> +<p>"Then why ask it?" she said.</p> +<p>"Why,—because I want to know. Where were you on the day of +the murder,—between five and six o'clock?"</p> +<p>"I <i>wish</i> you'd let me go, Marsh; you're hurting me—" +she complained.</p> +<p>She struggled for a moment to release herself from his grasp, +then realizing that her effort was of no avail, she quietly resumed +her former position on the arm of his chair.</p> +<p>"You must answer my question, come—where were you?" +Langham commanded.</p> +<p>He brought his face close to hers and she saw that his eyes +burnt with an unhealthy light.</p> +<p>"How silly of you, Marsh, you know it was Thanksgiving +day,—that we dined with your father."</p> +<p>"I am not asking you about that,—that was later!"</p> +<p>"I suppose I was on my way there at the hour you mention."</p> +<p>"No, you weren't; you were in North's rooms!"</p> +<p>"If you were not drunk, I should be angry with you, +Marsh,—you are insulting—"</p> +<p>He quitted his hold on her and staggered to his feet.</p> +<p>"You were with North—" he roared.</p> +<p>"Do you want the servants to hear you?" she asked in an angry +whisper.</p> +<p>"Hell!"</p> +<p>He made a step toward her, his hand raised.</p> +<p>"Don't do that, Marsh. I should never forgive you!"</p> +<p>Evelyn faced him, meeting his wild glance with unshaken +composure. The clenched hand fell at his side.</p> +<p>"My God, I ought to kill you!" he muttered.</p> +<p>She made him no answer, but kept her eyes fixed steadily on his +face.</p> +<p>"You <i>were</i> with North!" Langham repeated.</p> +<p>"Well, since you wish me to say it, I was with John North, but +what of that?"</p> +<p>"In his rooms—" he jerked out.</p> +<p>"No,—now you are asking too much of me!"</p> +<p>"I have proof,—proof, that you went to his rooms that +day!" he stormed.</p> +<p>"I did nothing of the sort, and I am not going to quarrel with +you while you are drunk!"</p> +<p>Drunk he was, but not as she understood drunkenness. In the +terrible extremity to which his crime had brought him he was having +recourse to drugs.</p> +<p>"You say you have proof,—don't be absurd, Marsh, you know +you haven't!" she added uneasily.</p> +<p>"You were with North in his rooms—" he insisted.</p> +<p>He was conscious of a strange wonder at himself that he could +believe this, and yet aside from such gusts of rage as these, his +doubt of her made no difference in their life together. Surely this +was the measure of his degradation.</p> +<p>"I am not going to discuss this matter with you!" Evelyn +said.</p> +<p>"Aren't you? Well, I guess you will. Do you know you may be +summoned into court?"</p> +<p>"Why?" she demanded, with a nervous start.</p> +<p>"North may want to prove that he was in his rooms at the hour +the murder is supposed to have been committed; all he needs is your +testimony,—it would make a nice scandal, wouldn't it?"</p> +<p>"Has he asked this?" Evelyn questioned.</p> +<p>"Not yet!"</p> +<p>"Then I don't think he ever will," she said quietly.</p> +<p>"Do you suppose he will be fool enough to go to the +penitentiary, or hang, to save <i>your</i> reputation?" Langham +asked harshly.</p> +<p>"I think Jack North would be almost fool enough for that," she +answered with conviction.</p> +<p>"Well, I don't,—you were too easy,—men don't risk +their necks for your sort!" he mocked. "Look here, you had an +infatuation for North,—you admitted it,—only this time +it went too far! What was the trouble, did he get sick of the +business and throw you over?"</p> +<p>"How coarse you are, Marsh!" and she colored angrily, not at his +words, however, but at the memory of that last meeting with +North.</p> +<p>"It's a damn rotten business, and I'll call it by what name I +please! If you are summoned, it will be your word against his; you +have told me you were not in his rooms—"</p> +<p>"I was <i>not</i> there—" she said, and as she said it she +wondered why she did not tell the truth, admit the whole thing and +have it over with. She was tired of the wrangling, and her hatred +of North had given way to pity, yet when Langham replied:</p> +<p>"All right. You are my wife, and North can hang, but he shan't +save himself by ruining you if <i>I</i> can help it!"</p> +<p>She answered: "I have told you that I wasn't there, Marsh."</p> +<p>"Would you swear that you weren't there?" Langham asked +eagerly.</p> +<p>"Yes—"</p> +<p>"Even if it sent him to the penitentiary?" he persisted.</p> +<p>"Yes."</p> +<p>He took her by the shoulders and drew her near to him that he +might look deep into her eyes.</p> +<p>"Even if it hanged him?" he rasped out.</p> +<p>She felt his hot breath on her cheek; she looked into his face, +fierce, cruel, with the insane selfishness of his one great +fear.</p> +<p>"Answer me,—would you let him hang?" and he shook her +roughly.</p> +<p>"Would I let him hang—" she repeated.</p> +<p>"Yes—"</p> +<p>"I—I don't know!" she said in a frightened whisper.</p> +<p>"No, damn you, I can't trust you!" and he flung her from +him.</p> +<p>There was a brief silence. The intangible, unformed, +unthoughtout fear that had kept her silent was crystallizing into a +very tangible conviction. Marshall had expressed more than the mere +desire to be revenged on North, she saw that he was swayed by the +mastering emotion of fear, rather than by his blazing hate of the +suspected man. Slowly but surely there came to her an understanding +of his swift descent during the last months.</p> +<p>"Marsh—" she began, and hesitated.</p> +<p>A scarcely articulate snarl from Langham seemed to encourage her +to go on.</p> +<p>"Marsh, where does the money come from that you—that +we—have been spending so lavishly this winter?"</p> +<p>"From my practice," he said, but his face was averted.</p> +<p>She gave a frightened laugh.</p> +<p>"Oh, no, Marsh, I know better than that!"</p> +<p>He swung about on her.</p> +<p>"Well," he stormed, "what do you know?"</p> +<p>"Hush, Marsh!" she implored, in sudden terror of him.</p> +<p>He gave her a sullen glare.</p> +<p>"Oh, very well, bring the whole damn thing rattling down about +our ears!" he cried.</p> +<p>"Marsh,—what do you mean? Do you know that John North is +innocent?" She spoke with terrifying deliberation.</p> +<p>For a moment they stood staring into each other's eyes. The +delicate pallor deepened on her face, and she sank half fainting +into a chair, but her accusing gaze was still fixed on Langham.</p> +<p>He strode to her side, and his hand gripped hers with a cruel +force.</p> +<p>"Let him prove that he is innocent if he can, but without help +from you! You keep still no matter what happens, do you hear? Or +God knows where this thing will end—or how!"</p> +<p>"Marsh, what am I to think!"</p> +<p>"You can think what you like so long as you keep +still—"</p> +<p>There was a hesitating step in the hall, the door was pushed +open, and Judge Langham paused on the threshold.</p> +<p>"May I come in?" he said.</p> +<p>Neither spoke, and his uneasy glance shifted back and forth from +husband to wife. In that wordless instant their common knowledge +manifested itself to each one of the three.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_TWENTY_TWO" id= +"CHAPTER_TWENTY_TWO"></a>CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO</h2> +<h3>GOOD MEN AND TRUE</h3> +<p>The North trial was Mount Hope's one vital sensation. Day after +day the courtroom was filled with eager perspiring humanity, while +in their homes, on the streets, and in the stores men talked of +little else. As for North himself, he was conscious of a curious +sense of long acquaintance with the courtroom; its staring white +walls and crowded benches seemed his accustomed surroundings, and +here, with a feeling that was something between fear and weariness, +he followed each stage of the elaborate game Judge Belknap, for the +defense, and Moxlow, for the prosecution, were playing, the game +that had his life for its stake.</p> +<p>When court adjourned, always in the twilight of those mid-winter +afternoons, there were his brief comforting interviews with +Elizabeth; and then the long solitary evenings in his cell; and the +longer nights, restless and disturbed. The strain told fearfully on +his vigor of body and mind, his face under imprisonment's pallid +mask, became gaunt and heavily lined, while his eyes sunk deep in +their sockets.</p> +<p>At first he had not believed that an innocent man could be +punished for a crime of which he had no knowledge; he was not so +sure of this now, for the days slipped past and the prosecution +remained firmly intrenched behind certain facts which were in their +way, conclusive. He told himself with grim humor that the single +weak strand in the rope Moxlow was seeking to fit about his neck +was this, that after all was said and proved, the fact remained, he +had not killed Archibald McBride!</p> +<p>When the last witness for the state had been examined, North +took the stand in his own behalf. His cross-examination was +concluded one dull February day, and there came a brief halt in the +rapid progress of the trial; the jury was sent from the room while +Moxlow and Belknap prepared instructions and submitted them to the +court. The judge listened wearily, his sunken cheek resting against +the palm of his thin hand, and his gaze fixed on vacancy; when he +spoke his voice was scarcely audible. Once he paused in the middle +of a sentence as his glance fell on the heavy upturned face of his +son, for he saw fear and entreaty written on the close-drawn lips +and in the bloodshot eyes.</p> +<p>A little later in the twilight North, with the sheriff at his +elbow, walked down the long corridor on his way to the jail. The +end was close at hand, a day or two more and his fate would be +decided. The hopelessness of the situation appalled him, stupified +him. The evidence of his guilt seemed overwhelming; he wondered how +Elizabeth retained her faith in him. He always came back to his +thought of her, and that which had once been his greatest joy now +only filled him with despair. Why had he ever spoken of his +love,—what if this grim farce in which he was a hapless actor +blundered on to a tragic close! He would have made any sacrifice +had it been possible for him to face the situation alone, but +another life was bound up with him; he would drag her down in the +ruin that had overtaken him, and when it was all past and +forgotten, she would remember,—the horror of it would fill +her days!</p> +<p>On that night, as on many another, North retraced step by step +the ugly path that wound its tortuous way from McBride's back +office to the cell in which he—John North—faced the +gallows. But the oftener he trod this path the more maze-like it +became, until now he was hopelessly lost in its intricacies; +discouraged, dazed, confused, almost convinced that in some blank +moment of lost identity it was his hand that had sent the old man +on his long last journey. As Evelyn Langham had questioned, so now +did John North: "If not I, then who did murder Archibald +McBride?"</p> +<p>In a vain search for the missing handy-man, General Herbert had +opened his purse wider than North or even Evelyn realized. There +seemed three possibilities in the instance of Montgomery. Either he +knew McBride's murderer and testified falsely to shield him; or +else he knew nothing and had been hired by some unknown enemy to +swear North into the penitentiary; or—and the third +possibility seemed not unlikely—it was he himself that had +clambered over the shed roof after killing and robbing the old +merchant.</p> +<p>North turned on his cot and his thoughts turned with him from +Montgomery to Gilmore, who also, with uncharacteristic cowardliness +had fled the scene of his illegal activities and the indictment +that threatened him anew. "What was the gambler's part in the +tragedy?" He hated North; he loved Marshall Langham's wife. But +neither of these passions shaped themselves into murderous motives. +Langham himself furnished food for reflection and speculation. +Evidently in the most dire financial difficulties; evidently under +Gilmore's domination; evidently burdened with some guilty +knowledge,—but there was no evidence against him, he had +credibly accounted for himself on that Thanksgiving afternoon, and +North for the hundredth time dismissed him with the exclamation: +"Marsh Langham a murderer? Impossible!"</p> +<p>The first cold rays of light, announcing the belated winter's +dawn, touched with gray fingers the still grayer face of the +sleepless prisoner. Out of the shadows that they coined came a +vision of Evelyn Langham. And again for the hundredth time, North +was torn between the belief that she, by her testimony, might save +him and the unconquerable determination to keep from Elizabeth +Herbert the knowledge of his affair with Langham's wife. Better end +his worthless existence than touch her fair life with this scandal. +But of what was Evelyn Langham thinking during the days of his +trial? What if she should voluntarily break her silence! Should he +not send for her—there was a sound at his door. North started +to his feet only to see the fat round face of the deputy sheriff as +he came bringing the morning's hot coffee and thick buttered +bread.</p> +<p>The town bell was ringing for nine o'clock when the deputy +sheriff again appeared to escort him into court, and as they +entered the room North saw that it was packed to the doors. His +appearance won a moment of oppressive silence, then came the +shuffling of feet and the hum of whispered conversation.</p> +<p>At the back of the room sat Marshall Langham. He was huddled up +in a splint-bottomed chair a deputy had placed for him at one end +of the last row of benches. Absorbed and aloof, he spoke with no +one, he rarely moved except to mop his face with his handkerchief. +His eyes were fixed on the pale shrunken figure that bent above the +judge's desk. His father's face with its weary dignity, its +unsoftened pride, possessed a terrible fascination for him; the +very memory of it, when he had quitted the court room, haunted him! +Pallid, bloodless as a bit of yellow parchment, and tortured by +suffering, it stole into his dreams at night.</p> +<p>But at last the end was in sight! If Moxlow had the brains he +credited him with, North would be convicted, the law satisfied, and +his case cease to be of vital interest to any one. Then of a sudden +his fears would go from him, he would be born afresh into a +heritage of new hopes and new aspirations! He had suffered to the +very limit of his capacity; there was such a thing as expiation, +and surely he had expiated his crime.</p> +<p>Now Moxlow, lank and awkward, with long black locks sweeping the +collar of his rusty coat, slipped from his chair and stood before +the judge's desk. For an instant Langham's glance shifted from his +father to the accused man. He felt intense hatred of him; to his +warped and twisted consciousness, half mad as he was with drink and +drugs, North's life seemed the one thing that stood between himself +and safety,—and clearly North had forfeited the right to +live!</p> +<p>When Moxlow's even tones fell on the expectant hush, Langham +writhed in his seat. Each word, he felt, had a dreadful +significance; the big linen handkerchief went back and forth across +his face as he sought to mop away the sweat that oozed from every +pore. He had gone as deep in the prosecutor's counsels as he dared +go, he knew the man's power of invective, and his sledge-hammer +force in argument; he wanted him to cut loose and overwhelm North +all in a breath! The blood in him leaped and tingled with +suppressed excitement, his twitching lips shaped themselves with +Moxlow's words. He felt that Moxlow was letting his opportunity +pass him by, that after all he was not equal to the task before +him, that it was one thing to plan and quite another to perform. +Men, such as those jurors, must be powerfully moved or they would +shrink from a verdict of guilty!</p> +<p>But Moxlow persevered in his level tones, he was not to be +hurried. He felt the case as good as won, and there was the taste +of triumph in his mouth, for he was going to convict his man in +spite of the best criminal lawyer in the state! Yet presently the +level tones became more and more incisive, and Moxlow would walk +toward North, his long finger extended, to loose a perfect storm of +words that cut and stung and insulted. He went deep into North's +past, and stripped him bare; shabby, mean, and profligate, he +pictured those few short years of his manhood until he became the +broken spendthrift, desperately in need of money and rendered +daring by the ruin that had overtaken him.</p> +<p>Moxlow's speech lasted three hours, and when he ended a burning +mist was before North's eyes. He saw vaguely the tall figure of the +prosecuting attorney sink into a chair, and he gave a great sigh of +relief. Perhaps North expected Belknap to perform some miracle of +vindication in his behalf, certainly when his counsel advanced to +the rail that guarded the bench there were both authority and +confidence in his manner, and soon the dingy court room was echoing +to the strident tones of the old criminal lawyer's voice. As the +minutes passed, however, it became a certainty with North that no +miracle would happen.</p> +<p>Belknap concluded his plea shortly before six o'clock. And this +was the end,—this was the last move in the game where his +life was the stake! In spite of his exhaustion of mind and body +North had followed the speech with the closest attention. He told +himself now, that the state's case was unshaken, that the facts, +stubborn and damning, were not to be brushed aside.</p> +<p>Moxlow's answer to Belknap's plea was brief, occupying little +more than half an hour, and the trial was ended. It rested with the +jury 'to say whether John North was innocent or guilty. As the jury +filed from the room North realized this with a feeling of relief in +that that at last the miserable ordeal was over. He had never been +quite bereft of hope, the consciousness of his own innocence had +measurably sustained him in his darkest hours. And now once more +his imagination swept him beyond the present into the future; again +he could believe that he was to pass from that room a free man to +take his place in the world from which he had these many weary +months been excluded. There was no bitterness in his heart toward +any one, even Moxlow's harsh denunciation of him was forgotten; the +law through its bungling agents had laid its savage hands on him, +that was all, and these agents had merely done what they conceived +to be their duty.</p> +<p>He glanced toward the big clock on the wall above the judge's +desk and saw that thirty minutes had already gone by since the jury +retired. Another half-hour passed while he studied the face of the +clock, but the door of the jury room, near which Deputy-sheriff +Brockett had taken up his station, still remained closed and no +sound came from beyond it. At his back he heard one man whisper to +another that the jurymen's dinner had just been brought in from the +hotel.</p> +<p>"That means another three quarters of an hour,—it's their +last chance to get a square meal at the county's expense!" the +speaker added, which earned him a neighboring ripple of +laughter.</p> +<p>Judge Langham and Moxlow had withdrawn to the former's private +room. Sheriff Conklin touched North on the shoulder.</p> +<p>"I guess we'd better go back, John!" he said. "If they want us +to-night they can send for us."</p> +<p>Morbid and determined, the spectators settled down to wait for +the verdict. The buzz of conversation was on every hand, and the +air grew thick and heavy with tobacco smoke, while relaxed and at +ease the crowd with its many pairs of eyes kept eager watch on the +door before which Brockett kept guard. No man in the room was +wholly unaffected by the sinister significance of the deputy's +presence there, and the fat little man with his shiny bald head and +stubby gray mustache, silent, preoccupied, taking no part in what +was passing about him, became as the figure of fate.</p> +<p>The clock on the wall back of the judges desk ticked off the +seconds; now it made itself heard in the hush that stole over the +room, again its message was lost in the confusion of sounds, the +scraping of feet or the hum of idle talk. But whether the crowd was +silent or noisy the clock performed its appointed task until its +big gilt hands told whoever cared to look that the jury in the John +North case had devoted three hours to its verdict and its +dinner.</p> +<p>The atmosphere of the place had become more and more oppressive. +Men nodded sleepily in their chairs, conversation had almost +ceased, when suddenly and without any apparent reason Brockett +swung about on his heel and faced the locked door. His whole +expression betokened a feverish interest. The effect of this was +immediate. A wave of suppressed excitement passed over the crowd; +absolute silence followed; and then from beyond the door, and +distinctly audible in the stillness, came the sound of a quick step +on the uncarpeted floor. The clock ticked twice, then a hand dealt +the door a measured blow.</p> +<p>The moment of silence that followed this ominous signal was only +broken when a deputy who had been nodding half asleep in his chair, +sprang erect and hurried from the room. As the swinging baize doors +banged at his heels, the crowd seemed to breathe again.</p> +<p>Moxlow was the first to arrive. The deputy had found him +munching a sandwich on the court-house steps. His entrance was +unhurried and his manner quietly confident; he put aside his +well-worn overcoat and took his seat at the counsel table. A little +ripple of respectful comment had greeted his appearance; this died +away when the baize doors at the back of the room swung open again +to admit North and the sheriff.</p> +<p>North's face was white, but he wore a look of high courage. He +understood to the full the dreadful hazard of the next few moments. +With never a glance to the right or to the left, he crossed the +room and took his seat; as he settled himself in his chair, Belknap +hurried into court.</p> +<p>Judge Langham had not yet appeared, and the crowd focused its +attention on the shut door leading into his private office. +Presently this door was seen to open slowly, and the judge's spare +erect figure paused on the threshold. His eyes, sunken, yet +brilliant with a strange light, shifted from side to side as he +glanced over the room.</p> +<p>Marshall Langham had not quitted his seat. There in his remote +corner under the gallery, his blanched face framed by shadows, his +father's glance found him. With his hand resting tremulously on the +jamb of the door as if to steady himself, the judge advanced a +step. Once more his eyes strayed in the direction of his son, and +from the gloom of that dull corner which Marshall had made his own, +despair and terror called aloud to him. His shaking hand dropped to +his side, and then like some pale ghost, he passed slowly before +the eager eyes that were following his every movement to his place +behind the flat-topped desk on the raised dais.</p> +<p>As he sank into his chair he turned to the clerk of the court +and there was a movement of his thin lips, but no sound passed +them. Brockett guessed the order he had wished to give, and the big +key slid around in the old-fashioned lock of the jury-room door. +Heavy-visaged and hesitating, the twelve men filed into court, and +at sight of them John North's heart seemed to die within his +breast. He no longer hoped nor doubted, he knew their +verdict,—he was caught in some intricate web of circumstance! +A monstrous injustice was about to be done him, and in the very +name of justice itself!</p> +<p>The jurors, awkward in their self-consciousness, crossed the +room and, as intangible as it was potent, a wave of horror went +with them. There was a noisy scraping of chairs as they took their +seats, and then a deathlike silence.</p> +<p>The clerk glanced up inquiringly into the white face that was +bent on him. A scarcely perceptible inclination of the head +answered him, and he turned to the jury.</p> +<p>"Gentlemen, have you arrived at a true verdict, and chosen one +of your number to speak for you?" he asked.</p> +<p>Martin Howe, the first man in the front row of the two solemn +lines of jurors, came awkwardly to his feet and said almost in a +whisper:</p> +<p>"We have. We find the defendant guilty as charged in the +indictment."</p> +<p>"Mr. Howe, do you find this man guilty as charged in the +indictment?" asked the clerk.</p> +<p>"I do," responded the juror.</p> +<p>Twelve times the clerk of the court, calling each man by name, +asked this question, and one by one the jurors stood up and +answered:</p> +<p>"I do."</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_TWENTY_THREE" id= +"CHAPTER_TWENTY_THREE"></a>CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE.</h2> +<h3>THE LAST APPEAL</h3> +<p>One raw morning late in April, Mark Leanard, who worked at +Kirby's lumber-yard, drove his team of big grade Percherons up to +Kirby's office by the railroad tracks.</p> +<p>"What's doing?" he asked of Kirby's clerk.</p> +<p>The clerk handed him a slip of paper.</p> +<p>"Go round and tell Mitchell to get you out this load!" he +said.</p> +<p>Leanard went off whistling, with the order slip tucked back of +his hatband. In the yard, Mitchell the foreman, gave him a load "of +sixteen-foot" pine boards and "two by fours".</p> +<p>"Where to?" the driver asked, as he took his seat on top the +load.</p> +<p>"To the jail, they're going to fence the yard."</p> +<p>"You mean young John North?"</p> +<p>"That's what,—did you think you'd get a day off and take +the old woman and the kids?" asked Mitchell.</p> +<p>It was a little past eight when the teamster entered the alley +back of the jail and began to unload. The fall of the first heavy +plank took John North to his cell window. For a long breathless +moment he stood there peering down into the alley, then he turned +away.</p> +<p>All that day the teams from Kirby's continued to bring lumber +for the fence, and at intervals North heard the thud of the heavy +planks as they were thrown from the wagons, or the voices of the +drivers as they urged their horses up the steep grade from the +street. Darkness came at last and with it unbroken quiet, but in +his troubled slumbers that night the condemned man saw the teams +come and go, and heard the fall of the planks. It was only when the +dawn's first uncertain light stole into the cell that a dreamless +sleep gave him complete forgetfulness.</p> +<p>From this he was presently roused by hearing the sound of voices +in the yard, and then the sharp ringing blows of a hammer. He +quitted his bed and slipped to the window; two carpenters had +already begun building the frame work that was to carry the +temporary fence which would inclose the place of execution. It was +<i>his</i> fence; it would surround his gallows that his death +should not become a public spectacle.</p> +<p>As they went about their task, the two carpenters stole covert +glances up in the direction of his window, but North stood well +back in the gloom of his cell and was unseen. Horror could add +nothing to the prison pallor, which had driven every particle of +color from his cheeks. Out of these commonplace details was to come +the final tragedy. Those men in faded overalls were preparing for +his death,—a limit had been fixed to the very hours that he +might live. On the morning of the tenth of June he would see earth +and sky from that window for the last time!</p> +<p>Chance passers-by with no very urgent affairs of their own on +hand, drifted up from the street, and soon a little group had +assembled in the alley to watch the two carpenters at their work, +or to stare up at North's strongly barred window. Now and again a +man would point out this window to some new-corner not so well +informed as himself.</p> +<p>Whenever North looked down into the alley that morning, there +was the human grouping with its changing personnel. Men sprawled on +the piles of boards, or lounged about the yard, while the murmur of +their idle talk reached him in his cell. The visible excuse which +served to bring them there was commonplace enough, but it was +invested with the interest of a coming tragedy, and North's own +thoughts went forward to the time when the fence should be +finished, when somewhere within the space it inclosed would stand +his gallows.</p> +<p>Shortly before the noon whistles blew, two little girls came +into the alley with the carpenters' dinner pails. They made their +way timidly through the crowd, casting shy glances to the right and +left; at a word from one of the men they placed the dinner pails +beside the pile of lumber and hurried away; but at the street +corner they paused, and with wide eyes stared up in the direction +of North's window.</p> +<p>A moment later the whistles sounded and the idlers dispersed, +while the two mechanics threw down their hammers and took +possession of the lumber pile. After they had eaten, they lighted +their pipes and smoked in silent contentment; but before their +pipes were finished the crowd began to reassemble, and all that +afternoon the shifting changing groups stood about in the alley, +watching the building of the fence. At no time were the two +carpenters without an audience. This continued from day to day +until the structure was completed, then for a week there was no +work done within the inclosure. It remained empty and deserted, +with its litter of chips, of blocks and of board ends.</p> +<p>On the morning of the first Monday in May, North was standing +before his window when the two mechanics entered the yard from the +jail; they brought tools, and one carried a roll of blue paper +under his arm; this he spread out on a board and both men examined +it carefully. Next they crossed to the lumber pile and looked it +over. They were evidently making some sort of calculation. Then +they pulled on their overalls and went to work, and in one corner +of the yard—the corner opposite North's window—they +began to build his scaffold. The thing took shape before his very +eyes, a monstrous anachronism.</p> +<p>General Herbert had not been idle while the unhurried +preparations for John North's execution were going forward; +whatever his secret feeling was, neither his words nor his manner +conceded defeat. Belknap had tried every expedient known to +criminal practice to secure a new trial but had failed, and it was +now evident that without the intervention of the governor, North's +doom was fixed unalterably. Belknap quitted Mount Hope for +Columbus, and there followed daily letters and almost hourly +telegrams, but General Herbert felt from the first that the lawyer +was not sanguine of success. Then on the eighth of June, two days +before the execution, came a long message from the lawyer. His wife +was ill, her recovery was doubtful; the governor was fully +possessed of the facts in North's case and was considering them, +would the general come at once to Columbus?</p> +<p>This telegram reached Idle Hour late at night, and the next +morning father and daughter were driven into Mount Hope. The +pleasant life with its agreeable ordering which the general had +known for ten peaceful years had resolved itself into a mad race +with time. The fearful, the monstrous, seemed to reach out and grip +him with skeleton fingers. Like the pale silent girl at his side, +he was knowing the horror of death, and a horror that was beyond +death.</p> +<p>They stopped at the jail to say good-by to North, and were then +driven rapidly to the station. The journey of about two hours +seemed interminable, but they rarely spoke. Elizabeth did not +change the position she had assumed when they took their seats. She +leaned lightly against her father's broad shoulder and her hands +were clasped in her lap.</p> +<p>For weeks the situation had been absolutely pitiless. Their +wrecked efforts were at the door of every hope, and if this mission +failed—but it would not fail! All they had come to ask was +the life of an innocent man, and surely the governor, unaffected by +local prejudice, must realize John North's innocence.</p> +<p>It was two o'clock when they reached their destination, and as +they left the car the general said:</p> +<p>"We will go to the hotel first. Either Judge Belknap will be +there, or there will be some word for us."</p> +<p>At the hotel they found, not Belknap, but a letter which he had +left. The governor was suffering from a slight indisposition and +was confined to the house. Belknap had made an appointment for him, +and he would be expected. The general crushed the sheet of paper +between his fingers with weary impatience.</p> +<p>"We'll see the governor at once. I'll call a carriage," he said +briefly.</p> +<p>Five minutes later, when they had left the hotel, Elizabeth +asked:</p> +<p>"What did Judge Belknap say?"</p> +<p>"Nothing, dear, nothing—the matter remains just as it was. +The governor is expecting us."</p> +<p>"What do you think, father? This is our last hope. Oh, do you +realize that?"</p> +<p>She rested her hand on his arm.</p> +<p>"It's going to be all right!" her father assured her.</p> +<p>Then there was silence between them until they drew up before +the governor's house.</p> +<p>Side by side they mounted the steps. The general's ring was +answered by a man-servant, who took their cards after showing them +into a small reception-room. He returned after a moment to say that +the governor was occupied and could not possibly see them until the +afternoon. The general's face was blank. He had never considered it +possible that the governor would refuse to see him at his +convenience. Certainly there had been a time when no politician of +his party in the state nor in the nation would have ventured this; +but it was evident the last ten years had made a difference in his +position. Elizabeth gazed up fearfully into her father's face. What +did this mean; was it merely a subterfuge on the governor's part to +avoid a painful interview? Perhaps, after all, it would have been +better had she remained at the hotel. Her father read her +thoughts.</p> +<p>"It's all right—be brave!" he whispered. He turned to the +servant. "Will you kindly learn for me at what hour the governor +will be at liberty?" he said stiffly.</p> +<p>"Oh, he must see us!" cried Elizabeth, the moment they were +alone.</p> +<p>"Of course he must, and he will," the general said.</p> +<p>But the governor's refusal to see them at once rankled within +him. His sunburnt cheeks were a brick red and there was an angry +light in his gray eyes. The servant did not return, but in his +stead came a dapper young fellow, the governor's private +secretary.</p> +<p>"General Herbert?" he asked inquiringly, as he entered the +room.</p> +<p>The general acknowledged his identity by an inclination of the +head.</p> +<p>"The governor will be most happy to see you at any time after +three o'clock. May I tell him you will call then?" asked the +secretary, and he glanced, not without sympathy and understanding, +at Elizabeth.</p> +<p>"We will return at three," the general said.</p> +<p>"He regrets his inability to see you now," murmured the +secretary, and again he permitted his glance to dwell on the girl's +pale beauty.</p> +<p>He bowed them from the room and from the house. When the door +closed on them, Elizabeth turned swiftly to her father.</p> +<p>"He is cruel, heartless, to keep us in suspense. A word, a +moment—might have meant so much to us—" she sobbed.</p> +<p>A spasm of pain contracted her father's rugged features.</p> +<p>"He will see us; he is a busy man with unceasing demands on his +time, but we have this appointment. Be brave, dear, just a little +longer!" he said tenderly.</p> +<p>"I'll try to be, but there is only to-day—and +to-morrow—" she faltered.</p> +<p>"Hush, you must not think of that!"</p> +<p>"I can think of nothing else!"</p> +<p>How they lived through the long hours the general never knew, +but at last three o'clock came and they were again at the +governor's door. It was opened by the servant who had admitted them +earlier in the day.</p> +<p>"We have an appointment with the governor," said General Herbert +briefly, pushing past him.</p> +<p>"Yes, sir; I will tell him you are here as soon as he comes in," +said the man.</p> +<p>"He's out, then?" and General Herbert wheeled on the man.</p> +<p>"Yes, but he's expected back any moment, sir."</p> +<p>"It will be all right," her father again assured Elizabeth, +speaking with forced cheerfulness when they were alone.</p> +<p>Ten—twenty minutes slipped by; minutes that were +infinitely precious, then a step sounded in the hall. It was the +servant who entered the room, however. He came to say that a +message had that moment been received from the governor; he was +detained at the capitol, and probably would not reach home before +five o'clock.</p> +<p>"Does he say he will see us there?" asked the general.</p> +<p>"He didn't mention you, sir; perhaps he has forgotten, but I +thought you'd wish to know."</p> +<p>"Thank you." The general turned to his daughter. "I think we'd +better go to the capitol."</p> +<p>The carriage was still at the door and they hurried out to it +and were whirled across town. As they came to a stand before the +capitol, General Herbert, without waiting for Elizabeth, sprang out +and strode into the building and up the familiar stairs to the +executive chambers. The door of the outer office stood open. A +colored janitor was sweeping the room.</p> +<p>"Who you want, boss?" he asked, stopping his work and leaning on +the handle of his broom.</p> +<p>"The governor—where is he?" demanded the general.</p> +<p>"You's too late, boss, he's done gone out."</p> +<p>A sense of futility and defeat almost overwhelmed the old +general. He was silent for a moment since he dared not trust +himself to speak, then he asked:</p> +<p>"Is the governor's secretary here?"</p> +<p>The man shook his head.</p> +<p>"Him and the governor left together. There ain't no one here +now, they've done for the day."</p> +<p>"Then the governor has gone home?"</p> +<p>"I expect that's where he went, yes, sir."</p> +<p>General Herbert swung about and hurried from the room. In the +hall he met Elizabeth.</p> +<p>"Did you see him?" she asked eagerly.</p> +<p>"Not here," he answered huskily.</p> +<p>Her eyes grew wide with terror, and she swayed as if about to +fall, but her father put out a sunburnt hand for her support.</p> +<p>"We must go back!" he said, mastering himself at sight of her +suffering. "We have missed him here, he's gone home, that is +all—it means nothing."</p> +<p>They drove in silence through the streets. Pallid, fearful, and +speechless in her suffering, Elizabeth leaned back in her seat. The +hope that had sustained her was lost in the realization of defeat. +There was nothing beyond; this was failure, complete and final; the +very end of effort! Suddenly her father's big hand closed about the +small one which rested in her lap.</p> +<p>"You must not give up; I tell you it will be all right!" he +insisted.</p> +<p>"He is avoiding us!" she cried chokingly. "Oh, what can we do +when he will not even see us!"</p> +<p>"Yes, he will. We have been unfortunate, that is all."</p> +<p>"Wretchedly unfortunate!" she moaned.</p> +<p>They had reached their destination, and this time slowly and +uncertainly they ascended the steps. With his hand upon the bell, +the general hesitated for an instant; so much was at stake! Then a +bell sounded in some distant part of the house, and after a brief +interval the door was opened to them.</p> +<p>"I am sorry, sir, but the governor has not returned."</p> +<p>The general thrust a bill into the man's hand, saying:</p> +<p>"The moment he comes in, see that he gets my card."</p> +<p>Again there was delay. General Herbert, consumed by impatience, +crossed and recrossed the room. Elizabeth stood by the window, one +hand parting the heavy curtains. It was already late afternoon. The +day had been wasted, and the hours that remained to them were +perilously few. But more than the thought of North's death, the +death itself filled her mind with unspeakable imaginings. The power +to control her thoughts was lost, and her terrors took her where +they would, until North's very death struggles became a blinding +horror. Somewhere in the silent house, a door opened and +closed.</p> +<p>"At last!" said the general, under his breath.</p> +<p>But it was only the governor's secretary who entered the room. +He halted in the doorway and glanced from father to daughter. There +was no mistaking the look on his face.</p> +<p>"How much longer are we to be kept in doubt?" asked General +Herbert, in a voice that indicated both his dread and his sense of +insult.</p> +<p>"The governor deeply regrets that there should have been this +delay—" began the secretary.</p> +<p>"He is ready to see us now?" General Herbert interrupted.</p> +<p>"I regret—"</p> +<p>"What do you regret? Do you mean to tell me that he will not see +us?" demanded the general.</p> +<p>"The governor has left town."</p> +<p>The angry color flamed into the old man's cheeks. His sorely +tried patience was on the point of giving way, but a cry from the +window recalled him.</p> +<p>"Where has he gone?"</p> +<p>"He left for the East at four o'clock," faltered the secretary, +after a moment of wretched irresolution.</p> +<p>The general's face became white, as his anger yielded to a more +powerful emotion.</p> +<p>"Impossible!" he cried.</p> +<p>"The North matter has been left in my hands," said the secretary +haltingly.</p> +<p>The general's hope revived as he heard this. He stepped to +Elizabeth's side and rested his hand protectingly on her +shoulder.</p> +<p>"You have the governor's decision?" he asked.</p> +<p>"Yes," answered the secretary unsteadily.</p> +<p>There was a moment's silence.</p> +<p>"What is it?" The general's voice was strained and +unnatural.</p> +<p>"He regrets it, but he does not deem it proper for him to +interfere with the decision of the court. He has had the most +eminent legal advice in this case—"</p> +<p>A choking inarticulate cry from Elizabeth interrupted him.</p> +<p>"My God!" cried her father, as Elizabeth's groping hands clung +to him. He felt the shudder that wrenched her slim body. "Be +brave!" he whispered, slipping his arms about her.</p> +<p>"Oh, father—father—" she sobbed.</p> +<p>"We will go home," said the general.</p> +<p>He looked up from the bowed head that rested against his +shoulder, expecting to find the secretary still standing by the +door, but that dapper young man had stolen from the room.</p> +<p>"Yes, take me home," said Elizabeth.</p> +<p>He led her from the house and the door closed behind them on +their last hope. Both shared in the bitter consciousness of this. +They had been brought face to face with the inexorable demands of +life, they had been foredoomed to failure from the very +beginning.</p> +<p>"Father?" she gasped.</p> +<p>"Yes, dear?" He spoke with infinite tenderness.</p> +<p>"Is there nothing more?"</p> +<p>"Nothing, but to go home."</p> +<p>Deeply as he felt for her, he knew that he realized only an +infinitesimal part of her suffering.</p> +<p>"The governor has refused to interfere?"</p> +<p>"You heard what he said, dear," he answered simply.</p> +<p>"And I have to go back and tell John that after all our hopes, +after all our prayers—"</p> +<p>"Perhaps you would better not go back," he suggested.</p> +<p>"Not go back? No, I must see him! You would not deny me +this—"</p> +<p>"I would deny you nothing," said her father fervently.</p> +<p>"Dismiss the carriage, and we will walk to the station; there is +time?"</p> +<p>"Yes."</p> +<p>For a little while they walked on in silence, the girl's hands +clasped about her father's arm.</p> +<p>"I can not understand it yet!" said Elizabeth at length, +speaking in a fearful whisper. "It is incredible. Oh, can't you +save him—can't you?"</p> +<p>The general did not trust himself to answer her.</p> +<p>"We have failed. Do you think it would have been different if +Judge Belknap had not been called away?"</p> +<p>General Herbert shook his head.</p> +<p>"And now we must go back to him! We were to have telegraphed +him; we won't now, will we?"</p> +<p>"My poor, poor Elizabeth!" cried the general brokenly.</p> +<p>"How shall we ever tell him!"</p> +<p>"I will go alone," said the general.</p> +<p>"No, no—I must see him! You are sure we have time to catch +our train—if we should miss it—" and the thought gave +her a sudden feverish energy.</p> +<p>"You need not hurry," her father assured her.</p> +<p>"But look at your watch!" she entreated.</p> +<p>"We have half an hour," he said.</p> +<p>"You can think of nothing more to do?" she asked, after another +brief silence.</p> +<p>"Nothing, dear."</p> +<p>Little was said until they boarded the train, but in the +drawing-room of the Pullman which her father had been able to +secure, Elizabeth's restraint forsook her, and she abandoned +herself to despair. Her father silently took his place at her side. +Oppressed and preoccupied, the sting of defeat unmitigated, he was +struggling with the problem of the future. The morrow with its +hideous tragedy seemed both the end and the beginning. One thing +was clear to him, they must go away from Idle Hour where North had +been so much a part of Elizabeth's life. Nothing had been added to +this decision when at length the train pulled into Mount Hope.</p> +<p>"We are home, dear," he said gently.</p> +<div class="figcenter"><br /> +<a href="images/336.jpg"><img src="images/336.jpg" width="45%" alt= +"" title="" /></a><br /> +<b>She abandoned herself to despair.</b> +<br /></div> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_TWENTY_FOUR" id= +"CHAPTER_TWENTY_FOUR"></a>CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR</h2> +<h3>THE LAST LONG DAY</h3> +<p>A long day, the last of many long days he told himself, was +ended, and John North stood by his window. Below in the yard into +which he was looking, but within the black shadow cast by the jail, +was the gallows. Though indistinguishable in the darkness, its +shape was seared on his brain, for he had lived in close fellowship +with all it emphasized. It was his gallows, it had grown to +completion under his very eyes that it might destroy him in the +last hour.</p> +<p>There had been for him a terrible fascination in the gaunt thing +that gave out the odor of new wood; a thing men had made with their +own hands; a clumsy device to inflict a brutal death; a left-over +from barbarism which denied every claim of civilization and +Christianity! Now, as the moon crept up from behind the distant +hills, the black shadows retreated, and as he watched, timber by +timber the gallows stood forth distinct in the soft clear light. In +a few hours, unless the governor interfered, he would pass through +the door directly below his window. He pictured the group of +grave-faced nervous officials, he saw himself bound and blindfolded +and helpless in their midst.</p> +<p>His fingers closed convulsively about the iron bars that guarded +his window, but the feeling of horror that suddenly seized him was +remote from self-pity. He was thinking of Elizabeth. What +unspeakable wretchedness he had brought into her life, and he was +still to bequeath her this squalid brutal death! It was the +crowning shame and misery to the long months of doubt and fearful +suspense.</p> +<p>Up from the earth came the scent of living growing things. The +leaves of the great maples in the court-house grounds rustled in +the spring breeze, there was the soft incessant hum of insect life, +and over all the white wonderful moonlight. But he had no part in +this universal renewal—he was to die his purposeless unheroic +death in the morning. For himself he could almost believe he no +longer cared; he had fully accepted the idea. He had even taken his +farewell of the few in Mount Hope who had held steadfast in their +friendship, and there only remained for him to die decently; to +meet the inevitable with whatever courage there was in his +soul.</p> +<p>He heard Brockett's familar step and suddenly, intent and +listening, he faced the door; but the deputy came slowly down the +corridor and as he entered the cell, paused, and shook his +head.</p> +<p>"No word yet, John," he said regretfully.</p> +<p>"Is the train in?" asked North.</p> +<p>"Yes, Conklin went down to meet it. He's just back; I guess +they'll come on the ten-thirty."</p> +<p>North again turned listlessly toward the window.</p> +<p>"I wouldn't own myself beat yet, John!" said the deputy.</p> +<p>"I've gone down at every crisis! I didn't think the grand jury +would indict me, I didn't think I would be convicted at the trial!" +He made a weary gesture. "What right have I to think they will be +able to influence the governor?"</p> +<p>There was a moment's silence broken by the deputy.</p> +<p>"I'll be outside, and if you want anything, let me know."</p> +<p>It was the death-watch, and poor Brockett was to keep it.</p> +<p>North fell to pacing his narrow bounds. Without, the wind had +risen and presently there came the patter of rain on the roof. +Thick darkness again enveloped the jail yard; and the +gallows—his gallows—was no longer visible. For an hour +or more the storm raged and then it passed as swiftly as it had +gathered. Once more he became aware of the incessant hum of the +insect world, and the rustling of the great maples in the +court-house grounds.</p> +<p>As he listened to these sounds, from somewhere off in the +distance he heard the shriek of an engine's whistle. They were +coming now if they came at all! In spite of himself, his hope +revived. To believe that they had failed was out of the question, +and the beat of his pulse and the throb of his heart quickened.</p> +<p>He endured twenty minutes of suspense, then he heard voices; +Brockett threw open the door, and Elizabeth, white-faced and +shaking, was before him.</p> +<p>"John!" she cried, with such anguish that in one terrible +instant all hope went from him.</p> +<p>His soul seemed to stand naked at the very gates of death, and +the vision of his brutal ending came before his burning eyes. Words +of protest trembled on his lips. This endured but for an +imperceptible space of time, and then that larger pity which was +not for himself but for Elizabeth, took him quickly to her +side.</p> +<p>"John—" she cried again, and held out her arms.</p> +<p>"Do not speak—I know," he said.</p> +<p>Her head drooped on his shoulder, and her strength seemed to +forsake her.</p> +<p>"I know, dear!" he repeated.</p> +<p>"We could do nothing!" she gasped.</p> +<p>"You have done everything that love and devotion could do!"</p> +<p>She looked up into his face.</p> +<p>"You are not afraid?" she whispered, clinging to him.</p> +<p>"I think not," he said simply.</p> +<p>"You are very brave, John—I shall try to be brave, +also."</p> +<p>"My dear, dear Elizabeth!" he murmured sadly, and they were +silent.</p> +<p>Without, in the corridor, an occasional whispered word passed +between General Herbert and the deputy.</p> +<p>"The governor would do nothing, John," Elizabeth faltered at +length.</p> +<p>"I understand, dear," he said tenderly.</p> +<p>"He would not even see us; we went repeatedly to his house and +to the capitol, and in the end we saw his secretary. The governor +had left town; he never intended to see us! To reach this +end—when nothing can be done—" Her eyes grew wide with +horror.</p> +<p>He drew her closer, and touched her cold lips with his.</p> +<p>"There is one thing you can do that will be a comfort to me, +Elizabeth; let your father take you home!"</p> +<p>"No, no, I must stay till morning, until the day +breaks—don't send me away, John!" she entreated.</p> +<p>"It will be easier—"</p> +<p>Yet his arms still held her close to him, and he gazed down into +the upturned face that rested against his breast. It was his keen +sense of her suffering that weighed on him now. What a wreck he had +made of her life—what infinite compassion and pity he felt! +He held her closer.</p> +<p>"What is it, dear?" she asked.</p> +<p>But he could not translate his feeling into words.</p> +<p>"Oh, if there were only something we could do!" she moaned.</p> +<p>"Through all these weeks you have given me hope and strength! +You say that I am brave! Your love and devotion have lifted me out +of myself; I would be ashamed to be a coward when I think of all +you have endured!"</p> +<p>He felt her shiver in his arms, then in the momentary silence +the court-house bell struck the half-hour.</p> +<p>"I thought it was later," she said, as the stroke of the bell +died out in the stillness.</p> +<p>"It is best that you should leave this place, +dearest—"</p> +<p>"Don't send me from you, John—I can not bear that +yet—" she implored.</p> +<p>Pityingly and tenderly his eyes looked deep into hers. What had +she not endured for his sake! And the long days of effort had +terminated in this last agony of disappointment; but now, and +almost mercifully, he felt the fruitless struggle was ended. All +that remained was the acceptance of an inexorable fate. He drew +forward his chair for her, and as she sank wearily into it, he +seated himself on the edge of the cot at her side.</p> +<p>"McBride's murderer will be found one of these days, and then +all the world will know that what you believe is the truth," said +North at length.</p> +<p>"Yes, dear," replied Elizabeth simply.</p> +<p>Some whispered word of General Herbert's or the deputy's reached +them in the interval of silence that ensued. Then presently in that +silence they had both feared to break, the court-house bell rang +again. It was twelve o'clock. Elizabeth rose.</p> +<p>"I am going now—John—" she said, in a voice so low +that he scarcely heard her. "I am going home. You wish it—and +you must sleep—" She caught his hands and pressed them to her +heart.</p> +<p>"Oh, my darling—good night—"</p> +<p>She came closer in his arms, and held up her lips for him to +kiss. The passion of life had given place to the chill of death. It +was to-day that he was to die! No longer could they think of it as +a thing of to-morrow, for at last the day had come.</p> +<p>"Yes, you must go," he said, in the same low voice in which she +had spoken.</p> +<p>"I love you, John—"</p> +<p>"As I do you, beloved—" he answered gently.</p> +<p>"Oh, I can not leave you! My place is here with you to the very +last—do not send me away!"</p> +<p>"I could not bear it," he said steadily. "You must leave Mount +Hope to-morrow—to-day—"</p> +<p>He felt her arms tighten about his neck.</p> +<p>"To-day?" she faltered miserably. "To-day—"</p> +<p>Her arms relaxed. He pressed his lips to her pale cold lips and +to her eyes, from which the light of consciousness had fled.</p> +<p>"General Herbert!" he called.</p> +<p>Instantly the general appeared in the doorway.</p> +<p>"She has fainted!" said North.</p> +<p>Her father turned as if with some vague notion of asking +assistance, but North checked him.</p> +<p>"For God's sake take her away while she is still unconscious!" +and he placed her in her father's arms. For a moment his hand +lingered on the general's shoulder. "Thank you—good-by!" and +he turned away abruptly.</p> +<p>"Good-by—God bless you, John!" said the general in a +strained voice.</p> +<p>He seemed to hesitate for a moment as if he wished to say more; +then as North kept his back turned on him, he gathered the +unconscious girl closer in his arms, and walked from the room.</p> +<p>North remained by the window, his hands clutching the bars with +convulsive strength, then the wind which blew fresh and strong in +his face brought him the sound of wheels; but this quickly died out +in the distance.</p> +<p>Brockett tiptoed into the cell.</p> +<p>"I am going to lie down and see if I can get some sleep," North +said, throwing off his coat. "If I sleep, call me as soon as it is +light—good night."</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_TWENTY_FIVE" id= +"CHAPTER_TWENTY_FIVE"></a>CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE</h2> +<h3>ON THE HIGH IRON BRIDGE</h3> +<p>As the weeks had passed Marshall Langham had felt his fears lift +somewhat, but the days and nights still remained endless cycles of +torment. Wherever he turned and with whomsoever he talked the North +case was certain sooner or later to be mentioned. There were +hideous rumors afloat, too, concerning General Herbert's activity +in behalf of the condemned man, and in spite of his knowledge of +the law, he was profoundly affected by this wild gossip, this +ignorant conjecture, which reason and experience alike told him +misstated every fact that bore on the situation. He was learning +just how dependent he had been on Gilmore; no strange imaginings, +no foolish vagaries had ever beset the gambler, his brutal vigor +had yielded nothing to terror or remorse.</p> +<p>He knew the Herberts had gone to Columbus to make a final appeal +to the governor. Father and daughter had been driven across the +Square by Thompson, the Idle Hour foreman, and they had passed +below the windows of Langham's office on their way to the station. +It had seemed to him an iniquitous thing that the old statesman's +position and influence should be brought into the case to defeat +his hopes, to rob him of his vengeance, to imperil his very safety. +Racked and tortured, he had no existence outside his fear and hate. +All that day Langham haunted the railway station. If any word did +come over the wires, he wished to know it at once, and if General +Herbert returned he wished to see him, since his appearance must +indicate success or failure. If it were failure the knowledge would +come none too quickly; if success, in any degree, he contemplated +instant flight, for he was obsessed by the belief that then he +would somehow stand in imminent peril.</p> +<p>He was pacing the long platform when the afternoon train +arrived, but his bloodshot eyes searched the crowd in vain for a +sight of General Herbert's stalwart figure.</p> +<p>"He has just one more chance to get back in time!" he told +himself. "If he doesn't come to-night it means I am safe!"</p> +<p>His bloodless lips sucked in the warm air. Safe! It was the +first time in months he had dared to tell himself this; yet a +moment later and his fears were crowding back crushing him to +earth. The general might do much in the six hours that remained to +him.</p> +<p>He was back at his post when the night train drew in, and his +heart gave a great leap in his breast as he saw the general descend +from the platform of the sleeper and then turn to assist Elizabeth. +She was closely veiled, but one glance at the pair sufficed.</p> +<p>Langham passed down the long platform. The flickering gas-jets +that burned at intervals under the wide eaves of the low station +were luminous suns, his brain whirled and his step was unsteady. He +passed out into the night, and when the friendly darkness had +closed about him, slipped a feverish palm across his eyes and +thanked God that his season of despair was at an end. He had +suffered and endured but now he was safe!</p> +<p>Before him the train, with its trailing echoes, had dwindled +away into the silence of the spring night. Scarcely conscious of +the direction he was taking he walked down the track toward the +iron bridge. It was as if some miracle of healing had come to him; +his heavy step grew light, his shaking hands became steady, his +brain clear; in those first moments of security he was the +ease-seeking, pleasure-loving Marshall Langham of seven months +before.</p> +<p>As he strode forward he became aware that some one was ahead of +him on the track, then presently at the bridge a match was struck, +and his eyes, piercing the intervening darkness, saw that a man had +paused there to light a pipe. He was quite near the bridge himself +when another match flared, and he was able to distinguish the +figure of this man who was crouching back of one of the iron +girders. A puff of wind extinguished the second match almost +immediately, and after a moment or two in which the lawyer +continued to advance, a third match was struck; at the same instant +the man must have heard the sound of Langham's approach, for as he +brought the blazing match to the bowl of a short black pipe, he +turned, standing erect, and Langham caught sight of his face. It +was Joe Montgomery. Another playful gust found Mr. Montgomery's +match and the two men stood facing each other in the darkness.</p> +<p>Langham had been about to speak but the words died on his lips; +a wave of horror passed over him. He had known not quite ten +minutes of security and now it was at an end; his terror all +revived; this hulking brute who faced him there in the darkness +menaced his safety, a few drinks might give him courage to go to +Moxlow or to the general with his confession. How was he to deal +with the situation?</p> +<p>"There ain't much Irish about me!" said Montgomery, with a +casual oath.</p> +<p>There was a moment of silence. The handy-man was searching his +pockets for a fresh match.</p> +<p>"Why have you come back, Joe?" asked Langham finally, when he +could command himself.</p> +<p>Montgomery started violently and his pipe fell from his +mouth.</p> +<p>"Is that you, Boss Langham?" he faltered.</p> +<p>He stared about him seeking to pierce the darkness, fearful that +Langham was not alone, that Gilmore might be somewhere near.</p> +<p>"Are you by yourself, boss?" he asked, and a tremor stole into +his hoarse throaty voice. He still carried the scars of that +fearful beating Gilmore had administered.</p> +<p>"Yes," said Langham. "I'm alone."</p> +<p>"I didn't know but Andy Gilmore might be with you, boss," said +Montgomery, clearing his throat.</p> +<p>"No, he's not here," replied Langham quietly. "He's left +town."</p> +<p>"Yes, but he'll be comin' back!" said the handy-man with a short +laugh.</p> +<p>"No, he's gone for good."</p> +<p>"Well, I ain't sorry. I hope to God I never see him +again—he beat me up awful! I was as good a friend as he'll +ever have; I was a perfect yellow dog to him; he whistled and I +jumped, but I'll be damned if I ever jump again! Say, I got about +eighteen inches of old gas-pipe slid down my pants leg now for Mr. +Andy; one good slug with that, and he won't have no remarks to make +about my goin' home to my old woman!"</p> +<p>"You won't have to use it."</p> +<p>"I'm almost sorry," said Montgomery.</p> +<p>"I suppose that thirst of yours is unimpaired?" inquired +Langham.</p> +<p>His burning eyes never for an instant forsook the dark outline +of the handy-man's slouching figure.</p> +<p>"I dunno, boss, I ain't been drinkin' much lately. Liquor's a +bully thing to keep the holes in your pants, and your toes out +where you can look at 'em if you want to. I dunno as I'll ever take +up whisky-drinkin' again," concluded Mr. Montgomery, with a +self-denying shake of the head.</p> +<p>"Are you glad to be back, Joe?" asked Langham.</p> +<p>It was anything to gain time, he was thinking desperately but to +no purpose.</p> +<p>"Glad! Stick all the cuss words you know in front of that and it +will be mild!" cried Montgomery feelingly. "It's pitiful the way I +been used, just knocked from pillar to post; I've seen dogs right +here in Mount Hope that had a lot happier time than I've been +havin'—and me a married man! I've always tried to be a good +husband, I hope there won't be no call for me to make a rough-house +of it to-night!" he added playfully, as he looked off across the +bridge.</p> +<p>"I guess not, Joe," said Langham.</p> +<p>His fears assembled themselves before him like a phantom host. +How was he to deal with the handy-man; how would Gilmore have dealt +with him? Had the time gone by to bully and bribe, or was that +still the method by which he could best safeguard his life?</p> +<p>"Say, boss, what they done with young John North?" Montgomery +suddenly demanded.</p> +<p>"Nothing yet," answered Langham after an instant's pause.</p> +<p>"Ain't he had his trial?" Montgomery asked.</p> +<p>"Yes."</p> +<p>"Well, ain't they done anything with him? If he ain't been sent +up, he's been turned loose."</p> +<p>"Neither, Joe," rejoined Langham slowly. "The jury didn't agree. +His friends are trying to get the judge to dismiss the case."</p> +<p>"That would suit me bully, boss, if they done that!" cried the +handy-man.</p> +<p>Langham caught the tone of relief.</p> +<p>"I don't want to see him hang; I don't want to see no one hang, +I'm all in favor of livin', myself. Say, I had a sweet time out +West! I'd a died yonder; I couldn't stand it, I had to come +back—just had to!"</p> +<p>He was shaking and wretched, and he exaggerated no part of the +misery he had known.</p> +<p>"When did you get in?" asked Langham.</p> +<p>"I beat my way in on the ten-thirty; I rode most of the way from +Columbus on top of the baggage car—I'm half dead, boss!"</p> +<p>"Have you seen any one?"</p> +<p>"No one but you. I got off at the crossin' where they slow up +and come along here; I wasn't thinkin' of a damn thing but gettin' +home to my old woman. I guess I'll hit the ties right now!" he +concluded with sudden resolution, and once more his small blue eyes +were turned toward the bridge.</p> +<p>"I'll walk across to the other side with you," said Langham +hastily.</p> +<p>"The crick's up quite a bit!" said the handy-man as they set +foot on the bridge.</p> +<p>Langham glanced out into the gloom, where swollen by the recent +rains the stream splashed and whirled between its steep banks.</p> +<p>"Yes, way up!" he answered.</p> +<p>As he spoke he stepped close to Montgomery's side and raised his +voice.</p> +<p>"Stop a bit," said Joe halting. "I shan't need this now," and he +drew the piece of gas-pipe from his trousers pocket. "I'd have +hammered the life out of Andy Gilmore!" he said, as he tossed the +ugly bludgeon from him.</p> +<p>"You haven't told me where you have been," said Langham, and +once more he pressed close to Montgomery, so close their elbows +touched.</p> +<p>The handy-man moved a little to one side.</p> +<p>"Where <i>ain't</i> I been, you better ask, boss," he said. "I +seen more rotten cities and more rotten towns and more rotten +country than you can shake a stick at; God A'mighty knows what's +the good of it—I dunno! Everybody I seen was strangers to me, +never a face I knowed anywhere; Chicago, Kansas City, St. Louis, +Denver—to hell with 'em all, boss; old Mount Hope's good +enough for me!" And the handy-man shrugged his huge slanting +shoulders.</p> +<p>"Don't go so fast, Joe!" Langham cautioned, and his eyes +searched the darkness ahead of them.</p> +<p>"It's a risky business for you, boss," said the handy-man. "You +ain't used to this bridge like me."</p> +<p>"Do you always come this way?" asked Langham.</p> +<p>"Always, in all seasons and all shapes, drunk or sober, winter +or summer," said the handy-man.</p> +<p>"One wouldn't have much chance if he slipped off here to-night," +said Langham with a shudder.</p> +<p>"Mighty little," agreed Montgomery. "Say, step over, +boss—we want to keep in the middle! There—that's +better, I was clean outside the rail."</p> +<p>"Can you swim?" asked Langham.</p> +<p>"Never swum a stroke. The dirt's good enough for me; I got a +notion that these here people who are always dippin' themselves are +just naturally filthy. Look at me, a handy-man doing all kinds of +odd jobs, who's got a better right to get dirty—but I leave +it alone and it wears off. I'm blame certain you won't find many +people that fool away less money on soap than just me!" said Joe +with evident satisfaction. "The old woman's up!" he cried, as he +caught the glimmer of a light on the shore beyond.</p> +<p>Perhaps unconsciously he quickened his pace.</p> +<p>"Not so fast, Joe!" gasped Langham.</p> +<p>"Oh, all right, boss!" responded Montgomery.</p> +<p>Langham turned to him quickly, but as he did so his foot struck +the cinder ballast of the road-bed.</p> +<p>"Good night, boss!" said Joe, his eyes fixed on the distant +light.</p> +<p>"Wait!" said Langham imperiously.</p> +<p>"What for?" demanded Montgomery.</p> +<p>"The water made such a noise I couldn't talk to you out on the +bridge," began Langham.</p> +<p>"Well, I can't stop now, boss," said the handy-man, turning +impatiently from him.</p> +<p>"Yes, damn you—you can—and will!" and Langham raised +his voice to give weight to his words.</p> +<p>Montgomery rounded up his shoulders.</p> +<p>"Don't you try that, boss! Andy Gilmore could shout me down and +cuss me out, but you can't; and I'll peel the face off you if you +lay hands on me!" He thrust out a grimy fist and menaced Langham +with it. There was a brief silence and the handy-man swung about on +his heel.</p> +<p>"Good night, boss!" he said over his shoulder, as he moved +off.</p> +<p>Langham made no answer, but long after Joe's shuffling steps had +died away in the distance he was still standing there irresolute +and undecided, staring fixedly off into the darkness that had +swallowed up the handy-man's hulking figure.</p> +<p>Mr. Montgomery, muttering somewhat and wagging his head, +continued along the track for a matter of a hundred yards, when his +feet found a narrow path which led off in the direction of the +light he had so confidently declared was his old woman's. Then +presently as he shuffled forward, the other seven houses of the row +of which his was the eighth, cloaked in utter darkness, took +shadowy form against the sky. The handy-man stumbled into his +unkempt front yard, its metes and bounds but indifferently defined +by the remnants of what had been a picket fence; he made his way to +the side door, which he threw open without ceremony. As he had +surmised, his old woman was up. She was seated by the table in the +corner, engaged in mending the ragged trousers belonging to Joseph +Montgomery, junior.</p> +<p>At sight of Joe, senior, she screamed and flung them aside; then +white and shaking she came weakly to her feet. The handy-man +grinned genially. He was not of demonstrative temperament.</p> +<p>"Joe!" cried Nellie, as she sprang toward him. "Dear Joe!" and +she threw her arms about him.</p> +<p>"Oh, hell!" said the handy-man.</p> +<p>Nellie was hanging limply about his neck and he was aware that +she had kissed him; he could not remember when before she had taken +such a liberty. Mr. Montgomery believed in a reasonable display of +affection, but kissing seemed to him a singularly frivolous +practice.</p> +<p>"Oh, my man!" sobbed Nellie.</p> +<p>"Oh, cheese it, and let me loose—I don't like this to-do! +Can't a married man come home without all this fuss?"</p> +<p>"Dear Joe, you've come back to me and your babies!" And the +tears streamed down her cheeks.</p> +<p>"I don't need you to tell me that—I got plenty sense +enough to know when I'm home!" said Montgomery, not without +bitterness.</p> +<p>"I mourned you like you was passed away, until your letter +come!" said Nellie, and the memory of her sufferings set her +sobbing afresh.</p> +<p>"Oh, great hell!" exclaimed Joe dejectedly. "Why can't you act +cheerful? What's the good of takin' on, anyhow—I don't like +tombstone talk."</p> +<p>"It was just the shock of seein' you standin' there in the door +like I seen you so often!" said Nellie weakly.</p> +<p>"If that ain't a woman for you, miserable because she's happy. +Say, stop chokin' me; I won't stand for much more of this nonsense, +you might know I don't like these to-dos!"</p> +<p>"You don't know what I've suffered, Joe!"</p> +<p>"That's a woman for you every time—always thinkin' of +herself! To hear you talk any one would think I'd been to a church +picnic; I look like I'd been to a picnic, don't I? Yes, I +do—like hell!"</p> +<p>"They said you would never come back to me," moaned Nellie.</p> +<p>"Who said that?" asked Mr. Montgomery aggressively.</p> +<p>"Everybody—the neighbors—Shrimplin—they all +said it!"</p> +<p>"Ain't I told you never to listen to gossip, and ain't I always +done what's right?" interrogated the handy-man severely.</p> +<p>"Yes, always, Joe," said Nellie.</p> +<p>"Then you might know'd I'd come back when I got plenty good and +ready. I fooled 'em all, and I'm here to stay—that is if you +keep your hands off me!"</p> +<p>"You mean it, Joe?" asked Nellie.</p> +<p>"What? About your keepin' your hands off me? Yes, you bet I +do!"</p> +<p>And Montgomery by a not ungentle effort released himself from +his wife's embrace. This act so restored his self-respect that he +grinned pleasantly at her.</p> +<p>"I don't know when I been so happy, Joe—it's awful nice to +have you back!" said Nellie, wiping her eyes on the corner of her +apron.</p> +<p>"There's some sense in your sayin' that," said the handy-man, +shaking his head. "You ought to feel happy."</p> +<p>"You don't ask after your children, Joe.—"</p> +<p>"Don't I? Well, maybe you don't give me no time to!" said Mr. +Montgomery, but without any special enthusiasm, since the truth was +that his interest in his numerous offspring was most casual.</p> +<p>"They're all well, and the littlest, Tom—the one you never +seen—has got his first tooth!" said Nellie.</p> +<p>Joe grunted at this information.</p> +<p>"He'll have more by and by, won't he?" he said.</p> +<p>"How you talk, of course he will!"</p> +<p>"He'd have a devil of a time chewin' his food if he didn't," +observed, the handy-man with a throaty chuckle.</p> +<p>"And, Joe, I got the twenty dollars you sent!"</p> +<p>"Is any of it left?" inquired Mr. Montgomery, with sudden +interest.</p> +<p>"The rent and things took it all. That was the noblest act you +ever done, Joe; it made me certain you was thinkin' of us, and from +the moment I got that money I was sure you would come back no +matter what people said!"</p> +<p>"Humph!" said Joe. "Is there anything in the house fit to eat? +Because if there is, I'll feed my face right now!"</p> +<p>"Do set down, Joe; I'll have something for you in a +minute—why didn't you tell me you was hungry?"</p> +<p>She was already rattling plates and knives at the cupboard, and +Joe took the chair she had quitted when he entered the house, +stretching his legs under his own table with a sense of deep +satisfaction. He had not considered it worth his while to visit the +kitchen sink, although his mode of life, as well as his mode of +travel for days past, had covered him with dust and grime; nor did +he take off his ragged cap. It had always been his custom to wear +it in the privacy of his own home, it was one of the last things he +removed before going to bed at night; at all other times it reposed +on the top of his curly red head as the only safe place for a cap +to be.</p> +<p>"I was real worried about Arthur along in March," said Mrs. +Montgomery, as such odds and ends as had survived the appetites of +all the little Montgomerys began to assemble themselves on the +table.</p> +<p>"What's he been a-doin'?" inquired Arthur's father.</p> +<p>"It was his chest," explained Nellie.</p> +<p>Joe grunted. By this time his two elbows were planted on the +edge of the table and his mouth was brought to within six scant +inches of his plate. The handy-man's table manners were not his +strong point.</p> +<p>"Oh, I guess his chest is all right!" he paused to say.</p> +<p>"I thought it was best to be on the safe side, so I took him +up-town and had his health examined by a doctor. He had to take off +his shirt so he could hear Arthur's lungs."</p> +<p>"Well, I'm damned,—what did he do that for?" cried Joe, +profoundly astonished.</p> +<p>"It was a mercy I'd washed him first," added Nellie, not +comprehending the reason of her husband's sudden show of interest +though gratified by it.</p> +<p>"Lord, I thought you meant the doctor had took off his shirt!" +said Joe. "He's all right now, ain't he?"</p> +<p>"Yes, but he did have such an alarmin' cough; it hung on and +hung on, it seemed to me like it was on his chest, but the doctor +said no, and I was that relieved! I used some of the twenty dollars +to pay him and to get medicine from the drug store."</p> +<p>Joe was cramming his mouth full of cold meat and bread, and for +the moment could not speak; when at length he could and did, it was +to say:</p> +<p>"I hear Andy Gilmore's left town?"</p> +<p>"Yes, all of a sudden, and no one knows where he's gone!"</p> +<p>"I guess he's had enough of Mount Hope, and I guess Mount Hope's +had enough of him!" remarked Joe.</p> +<p>"They say the police was goin' to stop the gamblin' in his rooms +if he hadn't gone when he did."</p> +<p>"Well, I hope he'll catch hell wherever he is!" said Joe, with a +sullen drop to his voice.</p> +<p>"For a while after you left, Joe, they didn't give me no peace +at all—the police and detectives, I mean—they was here +every day! And Shrimplin told me they was puttin' advertisements in +the papers all over the country."</p> +<p>"What for?" inquired Montgomery uneasily.</p> +<p>"They wanted to find out where you'd gone; it seemed like they +was determined to get you back as a witness for the trial," +explained Nellie.</p> +<p>Montgomery's uneasiness increased. He began to wonder fearfully +if he was in any danger, vague forebodings assailed him. Suppose he +was pinched and sent up. His face blanched and his small blue eyes +slid around in their sockets. Nellie was evidently unaware of the +feeling of terror her words had inspired, for she continued:</p> +<p>"But it didn't make no difference in the end that you wasn't +here, for everybody says it was you that hanged John North; you get +all the credit for that!"</p> +<p>Montgomery's hands fell at his side.</p> +<p>"Me hanged John North! <i>Me hanged John North!</i>" he +repeated. "But he ain't hanged—God A'mighty, he ain't hanged +yet!"</p> +<p>His voice shot up into a wail of horrified protest. Nellie +regarded him with a look of astonishment. She had been rather sorry +for young John North, but she had also felt a certain wifely pride +in Joe's connection with the case.</p> +<p>"No, he ain't hanged yet but he will be in the morning!" she +said.</p> +<p>The handy-man sprang to his feet, knocking over the chair in +which he had been seated.</p> +<p>"What's that?" he roared.</p> +<p>"Why, haven't you heard? He's to be hung in the morning."</p> +<p>Joe glared at her with starting eyes.</p> +<p>"What will they do that for—hang him—hang John +North!" He tore off his ragged cap and dashed it to the floor at +his feet. "To hell with Andy Gilmore and to hell with Marsh +Langham—that's why they drove me out of town—to hell +with 'em both!" he shouted, and his great chest seemed bursting +with pent-up fury.</p> +<p>"Why, whatever do you mean, Joe?" cried Nellie.</p> +<p>"He never done it—you hear me—and they <i>know</i> +it! You sure you got the straight of this—they are goin' to +hang young John North?" He seized her roughly by the shoulders.</p> +<p>"Yes—how you take on, Joe—"</p> +<p>"Take on!" he shouted. "You'd take on too if you stood in my +place. You're sure you know what you're talkin' about?"</p> +<p>"I seen the fence around the jail yard where they're goin' to +hang him; I went over on purpose yesterday with one of the +neighbors and took Arthur; I thought it would be improvin', but +he'd seen it before. There ain't much he don't see—for all I +can do he just runs the streets."</p> +<p>Joe's resolution had been formed while she was speaking, and now +he snatched his ragged cap from the floor.</p> +<p>"You stay right here till I get back!" he said gruffly.</p> +<p>It was not his habit to discuss affairs of any moment with Mrs. +Montgomery, since in a general way he doubted the clearness of the +feminine judgment, and in the present instance he had no intention +of taking her into his confidence. The great problem by which he +was confronted he would settle in his own fashion.</p> +<p>"You ain't in any trouble, Joe?" and Nellie's eyes widened with +the birth of sudden fear.</p> +<p>The handy-man was standing by the door, and she went to his +side.</p> +<p>"Me? No, I guess not; but I got an everlastin' dose of it for +the other fellow!" and he reached for the knob.</p> +<p>"Was it what I said about the police wantin' you?" his wife +asked timidly.</p> +<p>She knew that his dealings with the police had never been of an +especially fortunate nature. He shook off the hand she had placed +on his arm.</p> +<p>"You keep your mouth shut till I get back!" he said, and pushing +open the door, passed out.</p> +<p>The night had cleared since he crossed the bridge, and from the +great blue arch of heaven the new moon gave her radiance to a +sleeping world. But Montgomery was aware only of his purpose as he +slouched along the path toward the railroad track. The horror of +North's fate had fixed his determination, nothing of terror or fear +that he had ever known was comparable to the emotion he was +experiencing now. He did not even speculate on the consequences to +himself of the act he had decided on. They said that he had hanged +John North—he got the credit for that—well, John North +wasn't hanged yet! He tossed his arms aloft. "My God, I didn't mean +to do that!" he muttered.</p> +<p>He had gained the railroad tracks and was running toward the +bridge, the very seconds seemed of infinite value to him, for +suppose he should have difficulty in finding Moxlow? And if he +found the prosecuting attorney, would he believe his story? A +shudder passed through him. He was quite near the bridge when +suddenly he paused and a whispered curse slipped from between his +parted lips. A man was standing at the entrance to the bridge and +though it was impossible to distinguish more than the shadowy +outline of his figure, Montgomery was certain that it was Marshall +Langham. His first impulse was to turn back and go into town by the +wagon road and the wooden bridge, but as he hesitated the figure +came toward him, and Langham spoke.</p> +<p>"Is that you, Joe?" he asked.</p> +<p>"Damn him, he knows I won't stand for hangin' North!" the +handy-man told himself under his breath. He added aloud as he +shuffled forward, "Yes, it's me, boss!"</p> +<p>"Couldn't you make it right with Nellie?" asked Langham.</p> +<p>"Oh, it isn't that—the old woman's all right—but the +baby's sick and I'm out huntin' a doctor."</p> +<p>He did not expect Langham to believe him, but on the spur of the +moment he could think of nothing better.</p> +<p>"I am sorry to hear that!" said Langham.</p> +<p>An evil wolfish light stole into his eyes and the lines of his +weak debauched face hardened.</p> +<p>"What's the matter with you, boss; couldn't you get across?" +asked Joe.</p> +<p>"No, the bridge is too much for me. Like a fool I stopped here +to smoke a cigar after you left me; I hoped it would clear off a +bit so I could see the ties, but it's worse now that I can. I had +about made up my mind to come and get you to help me back into +town."</p> +<p>"Come along, boss, I'm in a terrible hurry!" said Joe +eagerly.</p> +<p>But Langham was a pace or two in advance of him when they +stepped out on the bridge. Never once did he glance in the +handy-man's direction. Had he done so, Montgomery must have been +aware that his face showed bloodless in the moonlight, while his +sunken eyes blazed with an unaccustomed fire.</p> +<p>"I can't walk these ties, Joe—give me your hand—" he +managed to say.</p> +<p>Joe did as he desired, and as the lawyer's slim fingers closed +about his great fist he was conscious that a cold moisture covered +them. He could only think of a dead man's hand.</p> +<p>"What's wrong with the baby, Joe?" Langham asked.</p> +<p>"Seems like it's got a croup," said Joe promptly.</p> +<p>"That's too bad—"</p> +<p>"Yes, it's a hell of a pity," agreed Montgomery.</p> +<p>He was furtively watching Langham out of the corners of his +beady blue eyes; his inner sense of things told him it was well to +do this. They took half a dozen steps and Langham released Joe's +hand.</p> +<p>"I wonder if I can manage this alone!" he said. But apparently +the attempt was a failure, for he quickly rested his hand on his +companion's massive shoulder.</p> +<p>They had reached the second of the bridge's three spans. Below +them in the darkness the yellow flood poured in noisy volume. As +Langham knew, here the stream was at its deepest and its current +the swiftest. He knew also that his chance had come; but he dared +not make use of it. The breath whistled from his lips and the +moisture came from every pore. He sought frantically to nerve +himself for the supreme moment; but suppose he slipped, or suppose +Joe became aware of his purpose one second too soon!</p> +<p>"Keep over a bit, boss!" said the handy-man suddenly. "You are +crowding me off the bridge!"</p> +<p>"Oh, all right; is that better?"</p> +<p>And Langham moved a step aside.</p> +<p>"A whole lot," responded Joe gruffly. But his little blue eyes, +alert with cunning, were never withdrawn from the lawyer for an +instant.</p> +<p>They walked forward in silence for a moment or two, and were +approaching the end of the center span, when the lawyer glanced +about him wildly; he realized that he was letting slip his one +great opportunity. Again Joe spoke:</p> +<p>"Keep over, boss!" And then all in the same breath, "What the +hell are you up to, anyway?"</p> +<p>It must be now or it would be never; and Langham, turning +swiftly, hurled himself on his companion, and his slim fingers with +their death-like chill gripped Joe's hairy throat. In the +suddenness of the attack he was forced toward the edge of the +bridge. The rush of the noisy waters sounded with fearful +distinctness in his ears.</p> +<p>"Here, damn you, let go!" panted Montgomery.</p> +<div class="figcenter"><br /> +<a href="images/368.jpg"><img src="images/368.jpg" width="45%" alt= +"" title="" /></a><br /> +<b>"Here, let go!" panted Montgomery.</b> +<br /></div> +<p>He felt Langham's hot breath on his cheek, he read murder by the +wolfish light in his eyes. He wrenched himself free of the other's +desperate clutch, but as he did so his foot caught against one of +the rails and he slipped and fell to his knees. In the intervals of +his own labored breathing, he heard the flow of the river, a dull +ceaseless roar, and saw the flashing silver of the moon's rays as +they touched the water's turgid surface. Langham no longer sought +to force him from the bridge, but bent every effort to thrust him +down between the ties to a swift and certain death.</p> +<p>"You want to kill me, too!" panted Montgomery, as by a mighty +effort that brought the veins on neck and forehead to the point of +bursting, he regained his footing on the ties.</p> +<p>But his antagonist was grimly silent, and Joe, roused to action +by fear, and by a sullen rage at what he deemed the lawyer's +perfidy, turned and grappled with him. Once he smashed his great +fist full into Langham's face, and though the blow sent the lawyer +staggering across the bridge, he recovered himself quickly and +rushed back to renew the fight. Montgomery greeted him with an +oath, and they grappled again.</p> +<p>Langham had known in his calmer moments when he planned Joe's +death, that his only hope of success lay in the suddenness of his +attack. Now as they swayed on the very edge of the bridge the +handy-man put forth all his strength and lifted the lawyer clear of +the ties, then with a mighty heave of his great shoulders he tossed +him out into space.</p> +<p>There was a scarcely audible splash and Joe, looking fearfully +down, saw the muddy drops turn limpid in the soft white light. A +moment later some dark object came to the surface and a white face +seemed to look up into his, but only for a second, and then the +restless flood bore it swiftly away.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_TWENTY_SIX" id= +"CHAPTER_TWENTY_SIX"></a>CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX</h2> +<h3>CUSTER'S IDOL FALLS</h3> +<p>Early that same night Mr. Shrimplin, taking Custer with him, had +driven out into the country. Their destination was a spot far down +the river where catfish were supposed to abound, for Izaak Walton's +gentle art was the little lamplighter's favorite recreation. After +leaving Mount Hope they jogged along the dusty country road for +some two miles, then turning from it into a little-traveled lane +they soon came out upon a great sweeping bend of the stream.</p> +<p>"I don't know about this, Custer," said Mr. Shrimplin, with a +doubtful shake of the head, as he drew rein. "She's way up. I had +no idea she was way up like this; I guess though we can't do no +better than to chance it, catfish is a muddy-water fish, +anyhow."</p> +<p>He tied wild Bill to a blasted sycamore, and then, while he cut +poles from the willow bushes that grew along the bank, Custer built +a huge bonfire, by the light of which they presently angled with +varying fortunes.</p> +<p>"I reckon not many people but me knows about this fishing-hole!" +said Shrimplin, as he cast his baited hook into the water.</p> +<p>"Where did you learn to fish?" asked Custer, thirsting for that +wisdom his father was so ready to impart.</p> +<p>"I guess you'd call it a natural gift in my case, son," said the +little lamplighter modestly. "I don't know as I deserve no credit; +it's like playing the organ or walking on a tight rope, the +instinct's got to be there or you'll only lay yourself open to +ridicule."</p> +<p>But truth to tell, fishing was no very subtle art as practised +by Mr. Shrimplin, he merely spat on his bait before he dropped it +into the water. Even Custer knew that every intelligent fisherman +did this, you couldn't reasonably hope to catch anything unless you +did; yet there seemed to him, when he now thought of it, such a gap +between cause and effect that he asked as he warily watched his +cork:</p> +<p>"What good does it do to spit on your hook?"</p> +<p>"I've forgot the science of it, Custer," admitted his father +after a moment's thought. "But I've always heard old fishermen say +you couldn't catch nothing unless you did."</p> +<p>"Did you ever try to?"</p> +<p>"I can't say as I ever did. What would be the use when you know +better?" said Mr. Shrimplin, who was strictly orthodox. His cork +went under and he landed a flopping shiner on the bank; this he +took from his hook and tossed back into the water. "It's a funny +thing about shiners!" he said.</p> +<p>"What is?" inquired Custer.</p> +<p>"Why, you always catch 'em when you ain't fishing for 'em. You +fish for catfish or sun-dabs, or bass even, if you're using worms, +and you catch shiners; mainly, I suppose, because they are no +manner of use to you. I reckon if you fished for shiners you +wouldn't catch anything,—you couldn't—because there is +no more worthless fish that swims! That's why fishing is like life; +in fact, you can't do nothing that ain't like life; but I don't +know but what catching shiners ain't just a little bit more like +life than anything else! You think you're going to make a lot of +money out of some job you've got, but it shaves itself down to half +by the time it reaches you; or you've got to cough up double what +you counted on when it's the other way about; so it works out the +same always; you get soaked whether you buy or sell, from the +cradle to the grave you're always catching shiners!" While Mr. +Shrimplin was still philosophizing big drops of warm spring rain +began to splash and patter on the long reach of still water before +them. He scrambled to his feet. "We are going to have some weather, +Custer!" he said, and they had scarcely time in which to drive Bill +under the shelter of a disused hay barracks in an adjacent field, +when the storm broke with all its fury. Here they spent the better +part of an hour, and when at last the rain ceased they climbed into +the cart and turned Bill's head in the direction of home.</p> +<p>"I hope, Custer, that your ma won't be scared; it's getting +mighty late," said the senior Shrimplin, and he shook his head as +if in pity of a human weakness which his mind grasped, though he +could not share in it. "Seems to be that people give way more and +more to their fear than they used to; or maybe it is that I ask too +much, being naturally nervy myself and not having no nerves, as I +may say."</p> +<p>Half an hour later, off in the distance, the lights of Mount +Hope became visible to Custer and his father.</p> +<p>"I'd give a good deal for a glass of suds and a cracker right +now!" said Mr. Shrimplin, speaking after a long silence. He tilted +his head and took a comprehensive survey of the heavens. "Well, +we're going to have a fine day for the hanging," he observed, with +the manner of a connoisseur.</p> +<p>"Why won't they let no one see it?" demanded Custer.</p> +<p>"It's to be strictly private. I don't know but what that's best; +it's some different though from the hangings I'm used to." And Mr. +Shrimplin shook his head dubiously as if he wished Custer to +understand that after all perhaps he was not so sure it was for the +best.</p> +<p>"How were they different?" inquired Custer, sensible that his +parent was falling into a reminiscent mood.</p> +<p>"Well, they were more gay for one thing; folks drove in from +miles about and brought their lunches and et fried chicken. +Sometimes there was hoss racing in the morning, and maybe a +shooting scrape or two; fact is, we usually knowed who was to be +the next to stretch hemp before the day was over,—it gave you +something to look forward to! But pshaw! What can you expect here? +Mount Hope ain't educated up to the sort of thing I'm used to! A +feller gets his face punched down at Mike Lonigan's or out at the +Dutchman's by the tracks, and the whole town talks of it, but no +one ever draws a gun; the feller that gets his face punched spits +out his teeth and goes on about his business, and that's the end of +it except for the talk; but where I've been there'd be murder in +about the time it takes to shift a quid!"</p> +<p>And Mr. Shrimplin shifted his own quid to illustrate the +uncertainty of human life in those highly favored regions.</p> +<p>"Don't you suppose they'd let you into the jail yard to-morrow +if you asked?" said Custer, to whom the hanging on the morrow was a +matter of vital and very present interest.</p> +<p>"Well, son, I ain't <i>asked!</i>" rejoined the little +lamplighter in a rather startled tone.</p> +<p>"Well, don't you think they'd ought to, seeing that you was one +of the witnesses, and found old Mr. McBride before anybody else +did?" persisted the boy.</p> +<p>"I won't say but what you might think they'd want me present; +but Conklin ain't even suggested it, and if he don't think of it I +can't say as I'll have any hard feelings," concluded Mr. Shrimplin +magnanimously.</p> +<p>They were about to enter Mount Hope now; to their right they +could distinguish the brick slaughter-house which stood on the +river bank, and which served conveniently to mark the town's +corporate limits on the east. The little lamplighter spoke +persuasively to Bill, and the lateness of the hour together with +the nearness to his own stable, conspired to make that sagacious +beast shuffle forward over the stony road at a very respectable +rate of speed. They were fairly abreast of the slaughter-house when +Custer suddenly placed his hand on his father's arm.</p> +<p>"Hark!" said the boy.</p> +<p>Mr. Shrimplin drew rein.</p> +<p>"Well, what is it, Custer?" he asked, with all that bland +indulgence of manner which was habitual to him in his intercourse +with his son.</p> +<p>"Didn't you hear, it sounded like a cry!" said Custer, in an +excited whisper.</p> +<p>And instantly a shiver traversed the region of Mr. Shrimplin's +spine.</p> +<p>"I guess you was mistaken, son!" he answered rather +nervously.</p> +<p>"No, don't you hear it—from down by the crick bank?" cried +the boy in the same excited whisper. His father was conscious of +the wish that he would select a more normal tone.</p> +<p>"There!" cried Custer.</p> +<p>As he spoke, a cry, faint and wavering, reached Mr. Shrimplin's +ears.</p> +<p>"I do seem to hear something—" he admitted.</p> +<p>"What do you suppose it is?" asked the boy, peering off into the +gloom.</p> +<p>"I don't know, Custer, and not wishing to be short with you, I +don't care a damn!" rejoined Mr. Shrimplin, endeavoring to meet the +situation with an air of pleasant raillery.</p> +<p>He gathered up his lines as he spoke.</p> +<p>"Why, what are you thinking of?" demanded Custer.</p> +<p>"I was thinking of your ma, Custer!" faltered Mr. Shrimplin +weakly. "We been gone longer than we said, it must be after eleven +o'clock."</p> +<p>"There!" cried Custer again, as a feeble call for help floated +up to them. "It's from down on the crick bank back of the +slaughter-house!"</p> +<p>Mr. Shrimplin was knowing a terrible moment of doubt, especially +terrible because the doubt was of himself. He was aware that Custer +would expect much of him in the present crisis, and he was equally +certain that he would not rise to the occasion. If somebody would +only come that way! And he listened desperately for the sound of +wheels on the road, but all he heard was that oft-repeated call for +help that came wailing from the black shadows beyond the +slaughter-house. Suddenly Custer answered the call with a +reassuring cry.</p> +<p>"Perhaps it's another murder!" he said.</p> +<p>"Oh, my God!" gasped Shrimplin, and there flashed through his +mind the horror of that other night.</p> +<p>Custer slipped out of the cart.</p> +<p>"Come on!" he cried.</p> +<p>He was vaguely conscious that his father was not seizing the +present opportunity to distinguish himself with any noticeable +avidity. He had expected to see that conqueror of bad men and +cow-towns, the somewhat ruthless but always manful slayer of +one-eye Murphy, descend from his cart with astonishing alacrity, +and heedless in his tried courage stride down into the darkness +beyond the slaughter-house. But Mr. Shrimplin did nothing of the +sort, he made no move to quit his seat. Surely something had gone +very wrong with the William Shrimplin of Custer's fancy, the young +Bill Shrimplin of Texarcana and similar centers of crime and +hardihood.</p> +<p>"Custer—" began Mr. Shrimplin, in a shaking voice. "I am +wondering if it wouldn't be best to drive on into town and get a +cop—Oh, my God, why don't you quit hollering!"</p> +<p>"Maybe they're killing him now!" cried Custer breathlessly.</p> +<p>He could not yet comprehend his father's attitude in the matter, +he could only realize that for some wholly inexplicable reason he +was falling far short of his ideal of him; he seemed utterly to +have lost his eye for the spectacular possibilities of the moment. +Why share the credit with a cop, why ask help of any one!</p> +<p>"You don't need no help, pa!" he said.</p> +<p>"Well, I don't know as I do," replied the little man, but he +made no move to leave his cart, his fears glued him to the +seat.</p> +<p>"Come on, then!" insisted Custer impatiently.</p> +<p>"Don't you feel afraid, son?" inquired Mr. Shrimplin, with +marked solicitude.</p> +<p>"Not with you!"</p> +<p>"Well, I don't know as you need to!" admitted Shrimplin. "But I +don't feel quite right—I reckon I feel sort of sick, +Custer—sort of—"</p> +<p>"Oh, come on—hurry up!"</p> +<p>"I don't know but I ought to see a doctor first—" faltered +Mr. Shrimplin in a hollow tone.</p> +<p>Misery of soul twisted his weak face pathetically.</p> +<p>"Why you act like you was <i>afraid!</i>" said Custer, with +withering contempt.</p> +<p>His words cut the elder Shrimplin like a knife; but they did not +move him from his seat in the cart.</p> +<p>"You bet I ain't afraid, Custer,—and that's no way for you +to speak to your pa, anyhow!"</p> +<p>But what he had intended should be the note of authority was no +more than a whine of injury.</p> +<p>"Then why don't you come if you ain't afraid?" insisted the boy +angrily.</p> +<p>"I don't know as I rightly know <i>why</i> I don't!" faltered +Mr. Shrimplin. "I feel rotten bad all at once."</p> +<p>"You're a coward!" cried the boy in fierce scorn.</p> +<p>Sobs choked his further utterance while the hot tears blinded +him on the instant. His idol had turned to clay in his very +presence, and in the desolation of that moment he wished that he +might be stricken with death, since life held nothing for him +longer.</p> +<p>"Custer—" began Shrimplin.</p> +<p>"Why don't you be a man and go down there?" sobbed the boy.</p> +<p>"It's dangerous!" said Mr. Shrimplin.</p> +<p>"Then I'll go!" declared Custer resolutely.</p> +<p>"What—and leave me here alone?" cried the little +lamplighter.</p> +<p>For answer Custer ran to the fence; his tears still blinded him +and sobs wrenched his little body. Twice he slipped back as he +essayed to climb, but a third attempt took him to the topmost rail +of the rickety structure.</p> +<p>"Custer!" called his father.</p> +<p>But Custer persisted in the crime of disobedience. He slid down +from the top rail and stood among the young pokeberry bushes and +ragweed that luxuriated in the foulness of the slaughter-house +yard. It was not an especially inviting spot even in broad day, as +he knew. Now the moonlight showed him bleached animal bones and +grinning animal skulls, while the damp weeds that clung about his +bare legs suggested snakes.</p> +<p>"<i>Custer!</i>" cried Mr. Shrimplin again.</p> +<p>But it gained him no response from the boy, who disappeared from +before his eyes without a single backward glance; whereat the +little lamplighter cursed querulously in the fear-haunted solitude +of the road.</p> +<p>Custer descended the steep bank that sloped down to the water's +edge. His eyes were fixed on a dense growth of willows and +sycamores that lined the shore; it was from a spot within their +black shadows that the cries for help seemed to come. Presently he +paused.</p> +<p>"Hullo!" he called, peering into the darkness ahead of him.</p> +<p>He listened intently, but this time his cry was unanswered; all +he heard was the grunting of some pigs that fed among the offal. +The boy shivered and his heart seemed to stop beating.</p> +<p>"Hullo!" he called once more.</p> +<p>"Help!" came the answer.</p> +<p>And Custer stumbled forward. As he neared the black shadows of +the willows he could feel his heart sink like lead through all the +reaches of his shaking anatomy. He had passed quite beyond the +hearing of his father's commands and reproaches, and the wash and +rush of the river came up to him out of the silence.</p> +<p>"Hullo!" cried the boy, pausing irresolutely.</p> +<p>Then seemingly from the earth at his very feet came a faint +answer to his call, and Custer, forcing his way through a rank +growth of weeds and briers, stood on the brink of a deep gully that +a small brook had worn for itself on its way to the river below. In +the bed of this brook was a dark object that Custer could barely +distinguish to be the figure of a man. A bruised and bleeding face +was upturned.</p> +<p>"Give me your hand—" gasped the man.</p> +<p>Custer knelt on the bank and grasping a tuft of grass to steady +himself extended his free hand.</p> +<p>"Are you hurt bad?" he asked.</p> +<p>"I don't know—" gasped the man, as he endeavored to draw +himself up out of the bed of the brook.</p> +<p>But after a moment of fruitless exertion he sank back +groaning.</p> +<p>"Go for help!" he said, in a painful whisper. "You are not +strong enough for this."</p> +<p>"How did you get here?" asked Custer.</p> +<p>"I fell off the railroad bridge, the current landed me here; +where am I, anyhow?"</p> +<p>"At the brick slaughter-house," said Custer.</p> +<p>"I thought so; can't you get some one to help you?"</p> +<p>But Custer, his reasonable curiosity satisfied, was already on +his way back to the road. "If only pa has not driven off!" But the +senior Shrimplin had not moved from the spot where Custer had left +him five minutes before.</p> +<p>"Is that you, son?" he asked, as Custer appeared at the +fence.</p> +<p>"Come here, quick!" commanded the boy.</p> +<p>"For what?" inquired Mr. Shrimplin.</p> +<p>"You needn't be afraid, it's only a man who's fallen off the +iron bridge. He's down in the bed of the slaughter-house run. I +can't get him out alone!"</p> +<p>"I'll bet he's good and drunk!" said the little lamplighter.</p> +<p>"No, he ain't, and he's mighty badly hurt!" said the boy +hotly.</p> +<p>"Of course, of course, Custer!" said Mr. Shrimplin. "He'd a been +killed though if he hadn't been drunk."</p> +<p>He climbed out of his cart, and clambered over the fence. +Something in Custer's manner warned him that any allusions of a +jocular nature would prove highly distasteful to his son, and he +followed silently as Custer led the way down to the brook.</p> +<p>"Here's where he is!" said the boy halting. "You get down beside +him—you're strongest, and I'll stay here and help pull him up +while you lift!"</p> +<p>"That's the idea, son!" agreed Mr. Shrimplin genially.</p> +<p>And he slid down into the bed of the brook where he struggled to +get the injured man to his feet. The first and immediate result of +his effort was that the latter swore fiercely at him, though in a +whisper.</p> +<p>"We got to get you out of this, mister!" said the little +lamplighter apologetically.</p> +<p>A second attempt was made in which they were aided by Custer +from above, and this time the injured man was drawn to the top of +the bank, where he collapsed in a heap.</p> +<p>"He's fainted!" said Custer. "Strike a match and see who it +is!"</p> +<p>Mr. Shrimplin obeyed, bringing the light close to the bloody and +disfigured face.</p> +<p>"Why, it's Marsh Langham!" he cried.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_TWENTY_SEVEN" id= +"CHAPTER_TWENTY_SEVEN"></a>CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN</h2> +<h3>FAITH IS RESTORED</h3> +<p>"Custer—" began Mr. Shrimplin, and paused to clear his +throat. He was walking beside wild Bill's head while Custer in the +cart tried to support Langham, for the latter had not regained +consciousness. "Custer, I'm mighty well satisfied with you; I may +say that while I always been proud of you, I am prouder this moment +than I ever hoped to be! How many boys in Mount Hope, do you think, +would have the nerve to do what you just done? I love nerve," +concluded Mr. Shrimplin with generous enthusiasm.</p> +<p>But Custer was silent, a sense of bitter shame kept him +mute.</p> +<p>"Custer," said his father, in a timidly propitiatory tone, "I +hope you ain't feeling stuck-up about this!"</p> +<p>"I wish it had never happened!" The boy spoke in an angry +whisper.</p> +<p>"You wish what had never happened, Custer?"</p> +<p>"About you—I mean!"</p> +<p>Shrimplin gave a hollow little laugh.</p> +<p>"Well, and what about me, son—if I may be allowed to +ask?"</p> +<p>"I wish you'd gone down to the crick bank like I wanted you to!" +rejoined the boy.</p> +<p>Again he felt the hot tears gather, and drew the back of his +hand across his eyes. The little lamplighter had been wishing this, +too; indeed, it would for ever remain one of the griefs of his life +that he had not done so. He wondered miserably if the old faith +would ever renew itself. His portion in life was the deadly +commonplace, but Custer's belief had given him hours of high +fellowship with heroes and warriors; it had also ministered to the +bloody-mindedness which lay somewhere back of that quaking fear +constitutional with him, and which he could no more control than he +could control his hunger or thirst. His blinking eyelids loosed a +solitary drop of moisture that slid out to the tip of his hooked +nose. But though Mr. Shrimplin's physical equipment was of the +slightest for the rôle in life he would have essayed, nature, +which gives the hunted bird and beast feather and fur to blend with +the russets and browns of the forest and plain, had not dealt +ungenerously with him, since he could believe that a lie long +persisted in gathered to itself the very soul and substance of +truth. Another hollow little laugh escaped him.</p> +<p>"Lord, Custer, I was foolin'—I am always foolin'! It was +my chance to see the stuff that's in you. Well, it's pretty good +stuff!" he added artfully.</p> +<p>But Custer was not ready for the reception of this new idea; his +father's display of cowardice had seemed only too real to him. Yet +the little lamplighter's manner took on confidence as he prepared +to establish a few facts as a working basis for their subsequent +reconciliation.</p> +<p>"I'd been a little better pleased, son, if you'd gone quicker +when you heard them calls Mr. Langham was letting out; you did hang +back, you'll remember—it looked like you was depending on me +too much; but I got no desire to rub this in. What you done was +nervy, and what I might have looked for with the bringing-up I've +given you. I shan't mention that you hung back." He shot a glance +out of the corners of his bleached blue eyes in Custer's direction. +"How many minutes do you suppose you was in getting out of the cart +and over the fence? Not more than five, I'd say, and all that time +I was sitting there shaking with laughter—just shaking with +inward laughter; I asked you not to leave me alone! Well, I always +was a joker but I consider that my best joke!"</p> +<p>Custer maintained a stony silence, yet he would have given +anything could he have accepted those pleasant fictions his father +was seeking to establish in the very habiliments of truth.</p> +<p>"I hoped you'd know how to take a joke, son!" said the little +lamplighter in a hurt tone.</p> +<p>"Were you joking, sure enough?" asked Custer doubtingly.</p> +<p>"Is it likely I could have been in earnest?" demanded Shrimplin, +hitching up his chin with an air of disdain. "What's my record +right here in Mount Hope? Was it Andy Gilmore or Colonel Harbison +that found old man McBride when he was murdered in his store?" And +the little lamplighter's tone grew more and more indignant as he +proceeded. "Maybe you think it was your disgustin' and dirty Uncle +Joe? <i>I</i> seem to remember it was Bill Shrimplin, or do I just +dream I was there—but I ain't been called a liar, not by no +living man—" and he twirled an end of his drooping flaxen +mustache between thumb and forefinger. "Facts is facts," he +finished.</p> +<p>"Everybody knows you found old Mr. McBride—" said Custer +rather eagerly.</p> +<p>"I'm expecting to hear it hinted I didn't!" replied Mr. +Shrimplin darkly. "I'm expecting to hear it stated by some +natural-born liar that I set in my cart and bellered for help!"</p> +<p>"But you didn't, and nobody says you did," insisted the boy.</p> +<p>"Well, I'm glad you don't have to take my word for it," said +Shrimplin. "I'm glad them facts is a matter of official record up +to the court-house. I don't know, though, that I care so blame much +about being held up as a public character; if I hadn't a reputation +out of the common, maybe I wouldn't be misjudged when I stand back +to give some one else a chance!"</p> +<p>He laughed with large scorn of the world's littleness.</p> +<p>The epic of William Shrimplin was taking to itself its old high +noble strain, and Custer was aware of a sneaking sense of shame +that he could have doubted even for an instant; then swiftly the +happy consciousness stole in on him that he had been weighed in the +balance by this specialist in human courage and had not been found +wanting. And his heart waxed large in his thin little body.</p> +<p>They were jogging along Mount Hope's deserted streets when +Marshall Langham roused from his stupor.</p> +<p>"Where are you taking me?" he demanded of the boy.</p> +<p>"Home, Mr. Langham—we're almost there now," responded +Custer.</p> +<p>"Take me to my father's," said Marshall with an effort, and his +head fell over on Custer's small shoulder.</p> +<p>He did not speak again until Bill came to a stand before Judge +Langham's gate.</p> +<p>"Are we there?" he asked of the boy.</p> +<p>"Yes—"</p> +<p>"Don't you think we'd better get help?" said Shrimplin.</p> +<p>And Marshall seeming to acquiesce in this, the little +lamplighter entered the yard and going to the front door rang the +bell. A minute passed, and growing impatient he rang again. There +succeeded another interval of waiting in which Shrimplin cocked his +head on one side to catch the sound of possible footsteps in the +hall.</p> +<p>"He says try the knob," called Custer from the cart.</p> +<p>Doing this, Shrimplin felt the door yield, it was not locked; at +the same instant he made this discovery, however, he heard a +footfall in the street and so, hurried back to the gate. The +new-comer halted when he was abreast of wild Bill, and stared first +at the cart and then at Shrimplin.</p> +<p>"Is anything the matter?" he asked.</p> +<p>It was Watt Harbison.</p> +<p>"Young Mr. Langham has fell off the high iron bridge," said the +little lamplighter, with a dignity that more than covered his lapse +from grammar.</p> +<p>"Why—are you badly hurt, Marsh?" cried Watt going close to +the cart.</p> +<p>"I don't know, I'm in most infernal pain," said Langham +slowly.</p> +<p>"Do you think we can lift him?" asked Shrimplin. "The judge +don't seem to be at home."</p> +<p>"Your boy would better go to my uncle's; Judge Langham may be +there," said Watt.</p> +<p>And Custer promptly slid out of the cart and sped off up the +street.</p> +<p>Langham met the delay with grim patience. A strange indifference +had taken the place of fear, nothing seemed of much moment any +more. Presently in his stupor he heard the sound of quick steps, +then Colonel Harbison's voice, and a moment later he was aware that +the three men had lifted him from the cart and were carrying him +along the path toward the house. They entered the hall.</p> +<p>"Take me up-stairs," he said, and without pause his bearers +moved forward.</p> +<p>They saw now that his face was pinched and ghastly under the +smear of blood that was oozing from an ugly cut on his cheek, and +Watt and the colonel exchanged significant glances. When they +reached the head of the stairs Custer pushed open the first door; +the room thus disclosed was in darkness, and the colonel, with a +whispered caution to his companions, released his hold on Langham, +and striking a match, stepped into the room where, having found the +chandelier, he turned on the gas. As the light flared up, Shrimplin +and Watt advanced with their helpless burden. It was the judge's +chamber they had entered and it was not untenanted, for there on +the bed lay the judge himself.</p> +<p>It was Langham who first saw that recumbent figure. A hoarse +inarticulate groan escaped him. He twisted clear of the hands that +supported him and by a superhuman effort staggered to his feet, he +even took an uncertain step in the direction of the bed, his +starting eyes fixed on the spare figure. Then his strength deserted +him and with a cry that rose to a shriek, he pitched forward on his +face.</p> +<p>The colonel strode past the fallen man to the bedside, where for +an instant he stood looking down on a placid face and into open +eyes. As his glance wandered he saw that the judge's nerveless +fingers still grasped the butt of a revolver.</p> +<p>White-faced he turned away. "Is he dead, Colonel?" asked the +little lamplighter in an awe-struck voice. "Was he murdered?" and +visions of future notoriety flashed through his mind.</p> +<p>The colonel and Watt exchanged shocked glances.</p> +<p>"Here, Shrimplin, help me with Marsh!" said Watt. "We must get +him out of here at once!"</p> +<p>They lifted Langham in their arms and bore him into an adjoining +room. As they placed him upon the bed he recovered consciousness +and clutched Watt by the sleeve.</p> +<p>"I've been seeing all sorts of things to-night—it began +while I lay in that ditch with the pigs rooting about me! Where is +my father, can't you find him?" he demanded eagerly.</p> +<p>Watt turned his head away.</p> +<p>"Then that was not a dream—you saw it, too?" said Langham +huskily. He dropped back on his pillow. "Dead—Oh, my God!" he +whispered, and was a long time silent.</p> +<p>Harbison despatched Shrimplin and Custer in quest of a +physician, and he and Watt busied themselves with removing +Marshall's wet clothes. When this was done they washed the +blood-stains from his face. He did not speak while they were thus +occupied; his eyes, wide and staring, were fixed on vacancy. He was +seeing only that still figure on the bed in the room adjoining.</p> +<p>There was a brisk step on the stairs and they were joined by +Doctor Taylor.</p> +<p>"I declare, Marsh, I am sorry for this. You must have had quite +a tumble, how did you manage it?" he said, as he approached the +bed.</p> +<p>Langham's eyes lost something of their intentness as they were +turned toward the physician, but he did not answer him. The doctor +moved a step aside with Colonel Harbison.</p> +<p>"Had he been drinking?" he asked in a low tone.</p> +<p>"I don't know," said the colonel.</p> +<p>"Shrimplin has gone for Mrs. Langham—I think they are here +now. Don't let her come up until I have made my examination. Will +you see to this?"</p> +<p>And the colonel quitted the room and hurried down-stairs.</p> +<p>As he gained the floor below, Evelyn entered the house.</p> +<p>"How is Marsh, Colonel Harbison?" she asked.</p> +<p>Her face was colorless but her manner was unexcited; her lips +even had a smile for the colonel.</p> +<p>"Doctor Taylor is with him, and I trust he will be able to tell +you that Marshall's injuries are not serious!" said Harbison +gently.</p> +<p>"Where is he? I must go to him—"</p> +<p>"The doctor prefers that you wait until he finishes his +examination," said the colonel. He drew her into the library. +"Evelyn, I must tell you—you must know that something +else—unspeakably dreadful—has happened here +to-night!"</p> +<p>"Yes?" The single word was no more than a breath on her full +lips.</p> +<p>The colonel hesitated.</p> +<p>"You need not fear to tell me—whatever it is, I—I am +prepared for anything—" said Evelyn, with a pause between +each word.</p> +<p>"The judge is dead," said Harbison simply. "My poor old friend +is dead!"</p> +<p>"Dead—Marshall's father dead!" She looked at him +curiously, with a questioning light in her eyes. "You have not told +me all, Colonel Harbison!"</p> +<p>"Not told you all—" he repeated.</p> +<p>"How did he die?"</p> +<p>"I think—I fear he shot himself, but of course it may have +been the purest accident—"</p> +<p>"It was not an accident—" she cried with a sob. "Oh, don't +mind what I am saying!" she added quickly, seeing the look of +astonishment on the colonel's face.</p> +<p>"Mrs. Langham may come up if she wishes!" called Doctor Taylor, +speaking from the head of the stairs.</p> +<p>Evelyn moved down the hall and paused.</p> +<p>"Does Marsh know?" she asked of the colonel.</p> +<p>"Yes, unfortunately we carried him into his father's room," +explained Harbison.</p> +<p>Evelyn went slowly up the stairs. The horror of the situation +was beyond words. As she entered the room where Marshall lay, Watt +Harbison and the doctor silently withdrew into the hall, closing +the door after them; but Langham gave no immediate sign that he was +aware of his wife's presence.</p> +<p>"Marsh?" she said softly.</p> +<p>His palpable weakness and his cut and bruised face gave her an +instinctive feeling of tenderness for him. At the sound of her +voice Langham's heavy lids slid back and he gazed up at her.</p> +<p>"Have they told you?" he asked in an eager whisper.</p> +<p>"Yes," she said, and there was a little space of time when +neither spoke.</p> +<p>She drew a chair to his bedside and seated herself. In the next +room she could hear Doctor Taylor moving about and now and then an +indistinct word when he spoke with Watt Harbison. She imagined the +offices they were performing for the dead man. Then a door was +softly closed and she heard footsteps as they passed out into the +hall.</p> +<p>Evelyn kept her place at the bedside without even altering the +position she had first taken, while her glance never for an instant +left the haggard face on the pillow. Beyond the open windows the +silver light had faded from the sky. At intervals a chill wind +rustled the long curtains. This, and her husband's labored +breathing were the only sounds in the leaden silence that followed +the departure of the two men from the adjoining room. She was +conscious of a dreary sense of detachment from all the world, the +little circle of which she had been the center seemed to contract +until it held only herself. Suddenly Langham turned uneasily on his +pillow and glanced toward the window.</p> +<p>"What time is it?" he asked abruptly.</p> +<p>"It must be nearly day," said Evelyn. "How do you feel now, +Marsh? Do you suffer?"</p> +<p>He shook his head. His eyes were turned toward the window.</p> +<p>"What day is this?" he asked after a brief silence.</p> +<p>"What day?" repeated Evelyn.</p> +<p>"Yes—the day of the week, I mean?"</p> +<p>"It's Friday."</p> +<p>"They are going to hang John North this morning!" he said, and +he regarded her from under his half-closed lids. "I wonder what he +is thinking of now?" he added.</p> +<p>"Would the governor do nothing?" she asked in a whisper.</p> +<p>She was white to the lips.</p> +<p>"And the Herbert girl—I wonder what she is thinking +of!"</p> +<p>"Hush, Marsh—Oh, hush! I—I can not—I must not +think of it!" she cried, and pressed her hands to her eyes +convulsively.</p> +<p>"What does it matter to you?" he said grimly.</p> +<p>"Nothing in one way—everything in another!"</p> +<p>"I wish to God I could believe you!" he muttered.</p> +<p>"You may—on my soul, Marsh, you may! It was never what you +think—never—never!"</p> +<p>"It doesn't matter now," he said, and turned his face toward the +wall.</p> +<p>"Marsh—" she began.</p> +<p>He moved impatiently, and she realized that it was useless to +attempt to alter what he had come to believe in absolutely. Beyond +the windows the first pale streaks of a spring dawn were visible, +but the earth still clothed itself in silence. The moments were +racing on to the final act of the pitiless tragedy which involved +so many lives.</p> +<p>"Marsh—" Evelyn began again.</p> +<p>"I've been a dog to endure your presence in my house!" he said +bitterly.</p> +<p>Evelyn was about to answer him when Doctor Taylor came into the +room.</p> +<p>"Is he awake?" he questioned.</p> +<p>Langham gazed up into the doctor's face.</p> +<p>"Will I get well?" he demanded.</p> +<p>"I hope so, Marshall—I can see no reason why a few days of +quiet won't see you up and about quite as if nothing had +happened."</p> +<p>"Come—I want to know the truth! Do you think I'm hurt +internally, is that it?" He sought to raise himself on his elbow +but slipped back groaning.</p> +<p>"You have sustained a very severe shock, still—" began the +doctor.</p> +<p>"Will I recover?" insisted Langham impatiently.</p> +<p>"Oh, <i>please</i>, Marshall!" cried Evelyn.</p> +<p>"I want to know the truth! If you don't think you can stand it, +go out into the hail while I thresh this matter out with Taylor!" +But Evelyn did not leave her place at his bedside.</p> +<p>"You must not excite yourself!" said Taylor.</p> +<p>"Humph—if you won't tell me what I wish to know, I'll tell +you my opinion; it is that I am not going to recover. I must see +Moxlow. Who is down-stairs?"</p> +<p>"Colonel Harbison and his nephew."</p> +<p>"Ask Watt to find Moxlow and bring him here. He's probably at +his boarding-house."</p> +<p>He spoke with painful effort, and the doctor glanced uncertainly +at Evelyn, who by a slight inclination of the head indicated that +she wished her husband's request complied with. Taylor quitted the +room.</p> +<p>"Why do you wish to see Moxlow?" Evelyn asked the moment they +were alone.</p> +<p>"I want him here; I may wish to tell him something—and I +may not, it all depends," he said slowly, as his heavy lids closed +over his tired eyes.</p> +<p>It was daylight without, and there was the occasional sound of +wheels in the street. Evelyn realized with a sudden sense of shock +that unless Marshall's bloodless lips opened to tell his secret, +but a few hours of life remained to John North.</p> +<p>A struggle was going on within her, it was a struggle that had +never ceased from the instant she first entered the room. One +moment she found she could pray that Marshall might speak; and the +next terror shook her lest he would, and declare North's innocence +and his own guilt. She slipped from his bedside and stealing to the +window parted the long curtains with trembling hands. She felt +widely separated in spirit from her husband; he seemed strangely +indifferent to her; only his bitter sense of injury and hurt +remained, his love had become a dead thing, since his very weakness +carried him beyond the need of her. She belonged to his full life +and there was nothing of tenderness and sympathy that survived. A +slight noise caused her to turn from the window. Marshall was +endeavoring to draw himself higher on his pillow.</p> +<p>"Here—lift me up—" he gasped, as she ran to his +side.</p> +<p>She passed an arm about him and did as he desired.</p> +<p>"That's better—" he panted.</p> +<p>"Shall I call the doctor?"</p> +<p>He shook his head and, as she withdrew her arm, lay back weak +and shaken.</p> +<p>"I tell you I am hurt internally!" he said.</p> +<p>"Let me call the doctor!" she entreated.</p> +<p>"What can he do?"</p> +<p>"Marsh, if you believe this—" she began.</p> +<p>"You're thinking of him!" he snarled.</p> +<p>"I am thinking of you, Marsh!"</p> +<p>"He threw you over for the Herbert girl!" he said with an evil +ghastly smile. "Do you want to save him for her?"</p> +<p>"You don't need to tell all, Marsh—" she said eagerly.</p> +<p>"That's you!" and he laughed under his breath. "I can't imagine +you advocating anything absolutely right! If I tell, I'll make a +clean breast of it; if I don't I'll lie with my last breath!"</p> +<p>He was thinking of Joe Montgomery now, as he had thought of him +many times since he drew himself up out of that merciless yellow +flood into which the handy-man had flung him. Evelyn looked at him +wonderingly. His virtues, as well as his vices, were things beyond +her comprehension.</p> +<p>The door opened, and Moxlow came into the room. At sight of him, +Langham's dull eyes grew brilliant.</p> +<p>"I thought you would never get here!" he said.</p> +<p>"This <i>is</i> too bad, Marsh!" said his law partner +sympathizingly, as Evelyn yielded him her place and withdrew to the +window again.</p> +<p>"Where's Taylor?" asked Langham abruptly.</p> +<p>"He's had to go to the jail, he was leaving the house as I got +here," replied Moxlow.</p> +<p>There was the noise of voices in the hail, one of which was the +colonel's, evidently raised in protest, then a clumsy hand was +heard fumbling with the knob and the door was thrown open, and Joe +Montgomery slouched into the room.</p> +<p>"Boss, you got to see me now!" he cried.</p> +<p>The prosecuting attorney sprang to his feet with an angry +exclamation.</p> +<p>"Let him alone—" said Langham weakly.</p> +<p>Montgomery stole to the foot of the bed and stared down on +Langham.</p> +<p>"You tell him, boss," nodding his head toward Moxlow. "I put it +up to you!" he said.</p> +<p>Langham's glance dwelt for an instant on the handy-man, then it +shifted back to Moxlow.</p> +<p>"Stop the execution!" he said, and Moxlow thought his mind +wandered. "North didn't kill McBride," Langham went on. "Do you +understand me—he is not the guilty man!"</p> +<p>A gray pallor was overspreading his face. It was called there by +another presence in that room; an invisible but most potent +presence.</p> +<p>"Do you understand me?" he repeated, for he saw that his words +had made no impression on Moxlow.</p> +<p>"Go on, boss!" cried Montgomery, in a fever of impatience.</p> +<p>"Do you understand what I am telling you? John North did not +kill McBride!" Langham spoke with painful effort. "Joe knows who +did—so do I—so did my father—he knew an innocent +man had been convicted!"</p> +<p>At mention of the judge, Moxlow started. He bent above +Langham.</p> +<p>"Marsh, if John North didn't kill McBride, who did?"</p> +<p>But Langham made no reply. Weak, pallid, and racked by +suffering, he lay back on his pillow. Joe leaned forward over the +foot of the bed.</p> +<p>"Tell him, boss; it's no odds to you now—tell him quick +for God's sake, or it will be too late!" he urged in a fearful +voice.</p> +<p>There was a tense silence while they waited for Langham to +speak. Moxlow heard the ticking of the clock on the mantel.</p> +<p>"If you have anything to say, Marsh—"</p> +<p>Langham raised himself on his elbows and his lips moved +convulsively, but only a dry gasping sound issued from them; he +seemed to have lost the power of speech.</p> +<p>"If North didn't kill McBride, who did?" repeated Moxlow.</p> +<p>A mighty effort wrenched Langham, again his lips came together +convulsively, and then in a whisper he said:</p> +<p>"I did," and fell back on his pillow.</p> +<p>There was a moment of stillness, and then from behind the long +curtains at the window came the sound of hysterical weeping.</p> +<p>Moxlow, utterly dazed by his partner's confession, looked again +at the clock on the mantel. Fifteen minutes had passed. It was a +quarter after eight. His brows contracted as if he were trying to +recall some half forgotten engagement. Suddenly he turned, +comprehendingly, to Montgomery.</p> +<p>"My God!—North!" he exclaimed and rushed unceremoniously +from the room.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_TWENTY_EIGHT" id= +"CHAPTER_TWENTY_EIGHT"></a>CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT</h2> +<h3>THE LAST NIGHT IN JAIL</h3> +<p>Whether John North slept during his last night in jail the +deputy sheriff did not know, for that kindly little man kept his +arms folded across his breast and his face to the wall. The night +wore itself out, and at last pale indications of the dawn crept +into the room. There was the song of the birds and a little later +the rumble of an occasional wagon over the paved streets. North +stirred and opened his eyes.</p> +<p>"Is it light?" he asked.</p> +<p>"Yes," said the deputy.</p> +<p>The day began with the familiar things that make up the round of +life, but North was conscious that he was thus occupying himself +for the last time. Then he seated himself and began a letter he had +told Brockett he wished to write. Once he paused.</p> +<p>"I will have time for this?" he asked.</p> +<p>"All the time you want, John," said Brockett hastily, as he +slipped from the room.</p> +<p>The sun's level rays lifted and slanted into the cell, while +North, remote from everything but the memory of Elizabeth's faith +and courage, labored to express himself. There was the sound of +voices in the yard, but their significance meant nothing to him +now. He wrote on without lifting his head. At last the letter was +finished and inclosed with a brief note to the general.</p> +<p>The pen dropped from North's fingers and he stood erect, he was +aware that men were still speaking below his window, then he heard +footfalls in the corridor, and turned toward the door. It was the +sheriff and his deputy. Conklin seemed on the verge of collapse, +and Brockett's face was drawn and ghastly.</p> +<p>There was a grim pause, and then Conklin, in a voice that was +but a shadow of itself, read the death-warrant. When he had +finished, North cast a last glance about his cell and passed out of +the door between the two men. They walked the length of the +corridor, descended the stairs, and entered the jail office. North +turned to Conklin.</p> +<p>"I wish to thank you and Brockett for your kindness to me, and +if you do not mind I should like to shake hands with you both and +say good-by here," for through the office windows he had caught +sight of the group of men in the yard.</p> +<p>The sheriff, silent, held out his hand. He dared not trust +himself to speak. North looked into his face.</p> +<p>"I am sorry for you," he said.</p> +<p>"My God, you may well be!" gasped Conklin.</p> +<p>North shook hands with Brockett and walked toward the door; but +as he neared it, Brockett stepped in front of him and threw it +open. As North passed out into the graveled yard, out into the full +light of the warm spring day, the sheriff mechanically looked at +his watch. It was twenty minutes after eight.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_TWENTY_NINE" id= +"CHAPTER_TWENTY_NINE"></a>CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE</h2> +<h3>AT IDLE HOUR</h3> +<p>From her window Elizabeth saw the gray dawn which ushered in +that June day steal over the valley below Idle Hour. Swiftly out of +the darkness of the long night grew the accustomed shape of things. +Wooded pastures and plowed fields came mysteriously into existence +as the light spread, then the sun burst through the curtain of mist +which lay along the eastern horizon, and it was day—the day +of <i>his</i> death.</p> +<p>Their many failures trooped up out of the past and mocked at +her; because of them he must die. They had gone with feverish haste +from hope to hope to this dread end! Perhaps she had never really +believed before that the day and hour would overtake them; when +effort would promise nothing. But now the very sense of tragedy +filled that silent morning, and her soul was in fearful +companionship with it. A flood of wild imaginings swept her +forward, across the little space of time that was left to her +lover. Gasping for breath, she struggled with the grim horror that +was growing up about him. His awful solitude came to her as a +reproach; she should have remained with him to the end! Was there +yet time to go back, or would she be too late? When? When? And she +asked herself the question she had not dared to ask of her +father.</p> +<p>The day showed her the distant roofs of Mount Hope; the day +showed her the square brick tower of the court-house—living +or dead, John North was in its very shadow. She crouched by the +window, her arms resting on the ledge and her eyes fixed on the +distant tower. How had the night passed for him—had he slept? +And the pity of those lonely hours brought the tears to her burning +eyes. She heard her father come slowly down the hall; he paused +before her door.</p> +<p>"Elizabeth—dear!" his voice was very gentle.</p> +<p>"Yes, father?"</p> +<p>But she did not change her position at the window.</p> +<p>"Won't you come down-stairs, dear?" he said.</p> +<p>"I can not—" and then she felt the selfishness of her +refusal, and added: "I will be down in a moment, I—I have not +quite finished dressing—yet!"</p> +<p>John North had thought always of others. In the moment of his +supremest agony, he had spoken not at all of himself; by word or +look he had added nothing to the sorrow that was crushing her. This +had been genuine courage.</p> +<p>"I must remember it always!" she told herself, as she turned +away from the window. "I must not be selfish—he would not +understand it—"</p> +<p>Her father was waiting for her at the foot of the stairs, and +the glance he bent on her was keen with anxiety. Perfect +understanding existed between them no less now than formerly, but +the anguish which had left its impress on that white face removed +her beyond any attempted expression of sympathy from him.</p> +<p>At the end of the hail the open door gave a wide vista of +well-kept lawns. Elizabeth turned swiftly to this doorway. Her +father kept his place at her side, and together they passed from +the house out into the warm day. Suddenly the girl paused, and her +eager gaze was directed toward Mount Hope—toward +<i>him</i>.</p> +<p>"Would it be too late to go to him now?" she asked in a feverish +whisper.</p> +<p>A spasm of pain contracted the old general's haggard face, but +the question found him mute.</p> +<p>"Would it be too late?" she repeated.</p> +<p>"He would not desire it, Elizabeth," replied her father.</p> +<p>"But would it be too late?" and she rested a shaking hand on his +arm.</p> +<p>"You must not ask me that—I don't know."</p> +<p>He tried to meet her glance, which seemed to read his very soul, +then her hand dropped at her side and she took a step forward, her +head bowed and her face averted.</p> +<p>Again came the thought of North's awful isolation; the thought +of that lonely death where love and tenderness had no place; all +the ghastly terror of that last moment when he was hurried from +this living breathing world! It was a monstrous thing! A thing +beyond belief—incredible, unspeakable!</p> +<p>"We can believe in his courage," said her father, "as certainly +as we can believe in his innocence."</p> +<p>"Yes—" she gasped.</p> +<p>"That is something. And the day will surely come when the world +will think as we think. The truth seems lost now, but not for +always!"</p> +<p>"But when he is gone—when he is no longer here—"</p> +<p>The general was silent. North had compelled his respect and +faith; for after all, no guilty man could have faced death with so +fine a courage. There was more to him than he had ever been willing +to admit in his judgment of the man. Whatever his faults, they had +been the faults of youth; had the opportunity been given him he +would have redeemed himself, would have purged himself of folly. +"Some day," the general was thinking, "I will tell her just what my +feelings for North have been, how out of disapproval and doubt has +come a deep and sincere regard."</p> +<p>The sun swept higher in the heavens, and the gray old man with +the strong haggard face, and the girl in whom the girl had died and +the woman had been born, walked on; now with dragging steps, when +the stupor of despair seized her, now swiftly as her thoughts +rushed from horror to horror.</p> +<p>The world, basking in the warmth of that June sun, seemed very +peaceful as they looked out across the long reaches of the flat +valley, and on to the distant town, with the lazy smoke of its +factory chimneys floated above the spires and housetops. But the +peace that was breathed out of the great calm heart of nature was +not for these two! The girl's sense was only one of fierce +rebellion at the injustice which was taking—had taken, +perhaps, the life of the man she loved; an injustice that could +never make amends—so implacable in its exactions, so impotent +in its atonements!</p> +<p>They were nearing the limits of the grounds; back of them, among +its trees, loomed the gray stone front of Idle Hour. Her father +rested a hand upon Elizabeth's shoulder.</p> +<p>"I will try to be brave, too—as he was always—" she +said pausing.</p> +<p>She stood there, a tragic figure, and then turned to her father +with pathetic courage. She would take up what was left for her. She +had her memories. They were of happiness no less than sorrow, for +she had loved much and suffered much.</p> +<p>With a final lingering glance townward, she turned away. Then a +startled cry escaped her, and her father looked up.</p> +<p>John North was coming toward them across the lawn.</p> +<div><br /> +<br /> +</div> +<p> </p> +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 14581 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/14581-h/images/001.jpg b/14581-h/images/001.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..6f25277 --- /dev/null +++ b/14581-h/images/001.jpg diff --git a/14581-h/images/016.jpg b/14581-h/images/016.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..2079ff8 --- /dev/null +++ b/14581-h/images/016.jpg diff --git a/14581-h/images/072.jpg b/14581-h/images/072.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..6174c2d --- /dev/null +++ b/14581-h/images/072.jpg diff --git a/14581-h/images/136.jpg b/14581-h/images/136.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..14e0901 --- /dev/null +++ b/14581-h/images/136.jpg diff --git a/14581-h/images/174.jpg b/14581-h/images/174.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..9d4b84c --- /dev/null +++ b/14581-h/images/174.jpg diff --git a/14581-h/images/204.jpg b/14581-h/images/204.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..e921701 --- /dev/null +++ b/14581-h/images/204.jpg diff --git a/14581-h/images/336.jpg b/14581-h/images/336.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..3f035bf --- /dev/null +++ b/14581-h/images/336.jpg diff --git a/14581-h/images/368.jpg b/14581-h/images/368.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..95724ee --- /dev/null +++ b/14581-h/images/368.jpg |
